"potts" poems
One day in an office somewhere,
On someone else’s time,
Someone had an idea -
They were looking for ways to make up money
Out of thin air.
Now this someone somewhere was a man
For want of a better name, let’s call him Dan
Dan’s idea was simple, it was this:
Let’s start making make-up aimed at kids!
Not kids like students, or as in school kids,
But real kids, you know, of 9,8,7, even 6!
Infants, toddlers, babies, that’s the biz!
We’ll be the market leader in make-up bibs!
Tell them they get purple potts when telling fibs
But try our concealer - Mum won't even notice!
We’ll get some newborn WAG to celebendorse it
And call it something aspirational like, Babywish
In fact, before 12 months they’re really not all that clever
So how about “With Babywish u2 can live 4ever!”
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 7:51 PM UTC
Feel great, feel cool, feel nice. Nice people, nice things, nice ice. Ice cream, ice blocks, ice cubes. Cube, pyramid, cone, sphere. Circle, circle of life, what comes around goes around. Ring around the rosey. Tulips, daffodils, daisies, pansies. Scared, frightened, freaked. Surprise, happy, content, friends. Social, shy, outgoing. Going out with friends, going out of town, going to bed. Sleep, cozy, pillows, blankets, nighttime. Stars, moon, owls, darkness. Dark hair, dark chocolate, dark night, Dark Knight. Batman, Superman, Cat-women, Supergirl, Flash. Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch, Captain America, Iron Man, Hulk, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Thor. Pepper Potts, Peggy Carter, Jane Foster. Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, William Shakespeare. Elizabeth and Darcy, Romeo and Juliet, Jane and Rochester. Love, tragedy, comedy. Happily ever after, never, future, past, present. Wishes, desires, wants, needs. Thoughts, actions, words, deeds. If, when, now, how. Questions, answers, research. Study, work, write, draw. Art, paint, opinions, facts. Math, history, grammar, science. Religion, faith, beliefs, devotion. Marriage, together, apart. Separate, different, change. Old, new, used. Abandoned, left, alone, useless. Useful, helpful, needed, wanted. A place, person, thing. Adjective, verb, adverb, noun, pronoun, proper noun. Mad Libs.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC
John sits
on the school coach
by the window
next to Goldfinch
watching the trees
and fields
and cottages go past.
Goldfinch is talking
of football:
who do
I put
in goal lunchtime
as Potts is way,
who do you think?
Goldfinch says.
Not me that's,
for sure,
John says,
his mind
isn't on Goldfinch
or the goal,
but on Elaine
sitting over
the other side
of the coach.
He looked at her
when she
and sister
got on the coach,
but she looked away,
and not at him.
He guesses she
was shy after all
the rumpus since
Elaine's mouthy sister
told everyone
on the coach
that he had
kissed Elaine.
But it soon
died down
and apart
from a few
How's the Frump Elaine?
When he got on
and later
when Elaine got on,
then it died out.
Now the kids
are talking amongst
themselves or listening
to the music
from the coach radio,
some pop song
about loving somebody.
Need someone
by lunchtime,
Goldfinch says,
whom do you suggest?
Green might,
he ain't bad,
John says.
Green? He couldn't
save a 1p
for Christmas;
someone else,
Goldfinch says.
John doesn't
care who,
he's thinking
of Elaine
and whether she'll
let him kiss
her again
after the rumpus;
he hopes so,
although he's
not sure
he'll be welcome
at Elaine's home now.
Why did her sister
tell like that?
He muses,
listening
half heartedly
to Goldfinch's talk,
it was just a quick
kiss not
too passionate
and it was only
while her mother
was out of the room
briefly that day.
He looks over
to where Elaine
is sitting quickly
to see if she's
looking his way,
but she isn't
she's staring out
the window.
Her sister
glares at him,
so he looks away,
and back out
of the window
and the passing view,
not sure
what to think
or what to do.
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
“Honey, let me fix that -
You've got your perfidious smile buttoned up all wrong
I couldn't remove her lipstick from your shirt,
Unfortunately it's on your heartless sleeve
This is your last tie, don't cut this one as well
Refrain from wearing these pants again, just give it to her
Maybe that way she'll stay out of yours
And here's your socks, your feet has been cold for a while now
Put on your new shoes, I hope it fits,
Since you can't place yourself in my shoes
I wiped your glasses this morning,
Maybe that way your wandering eyes won't mistake her for me
Your integrity is in the last drawer of your wardrobe
It's been in there for a while now
Oh, and I see your watch is broken
Maybe that's why you don't have time for me
Don't forget your coat of sympathy on your way out
I put a bit of empathy in its pockets
There, now you're all dressed to succumb to sin
Have a lovely day, honey” ~ Demi.M Potts
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 5:23 AM UTC
“Oh God, You're a poet
And I, I was Your blank page,
Rather the blank page of a poet,
Than the blank page of man
Rather the blank page of someone who already envisioned me as a masterpiece,
Than the blank page of man
Yes, even before He poured out His ink heart on me,
He saw me, with all the hidden words that were scribbled across me
All the fears, hopes, dreams and wishes inked so wildly
Oh man, I was His pièce de résistance
Last night I was staring at this blank page,
But little did I know that it was staring at me,
Waiting for me to turn it into a written work of art
And just then I realized, I was staring at my reflection
This revelation brought clarity to every blank page on Earth
Oh God, we are Your work of art” - Demi.M Potts
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC
“Engulfed in bubblewrap
Oh, he's a fragile gift
A colorless soul, some would say
For anyone could colour him
Most would paint over the lines
Some would never even reach the delicate corners
I know of one fine artist that could paint him
Her fine fingers formed with delicacy
For only she could grace him with panache
Regrettably, their paths would never cross
As she is engulfed in bubblewrap too,
And lives in a separate box” — Demi.M Potts
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 7:02 AM UTC
“The words just won't come, but the feelings are all here
Misunderstood mind-monsters whispers and that's all I hear
My tears are on hold; it refuses to be shed,
The silence turns into pandemonium as soon as I lay down my head
Some elusive words are hidden within my tainted heart,
Drenched in blood; a beautiful art
The thought of ever uttering those words suffocates me,
Thus the mind-monsters echo the words repeatedly
Every day I wish to escape these memories,
But seems like all that escapes me is my sanity
I was forced to acknowledge the muse in my miseries,
The mind-monsters said it would be one less frailty
Now as you walk this staircase to my mind;
Seek my angels to convince these mind-monsters to be kind” ~ Demi.M Potts
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
There is a gnawing in here and though I tread gently to mentally take out the teeth that would eat me away,
each day chews me some more,
setting store by the adage,'that no rage is good rage'for once I am right
and sometime in the night I find rest.
I am seesaw and constantly yawing,
feeling sick I am drawing a line in the sand,'til the teeth reappear and take a chunk out of my hand.
I try to repel this repulsion that drifts in like the smell of stale gin,
but I swallow and follow the lead that was set by the people I've met and have passed on the way,
there's no way I can do it.
I have wasted more moments in misery and self pity and spent time more than enough on the streets in this city to know that as more of me goes,more of me shows
and every plan that I made blows up in my face.
It's a case of eat or be eaten,fight hard or be beaten and the path that you choose is one more less to use.
I have travelled so many and many may travel some more and the lions that lead lambs to slaughter are still roaring their hunger as I hunger too,
the teeth are still gnawing as the day spreads its hymnbook and we sing as we look up
to the heavens above,
I sing out of tune because I know very soon that the darkness will fake me to take in and make me a note on the page,a stave or a slave?
and no one can save me.
I am being eaten away,each tiny bit of each day and to pray will not help me,nor pity or misery,
so kiss me goodbye
save your tears do not cry.
I am as I began
and I begin from
the start.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
To all that are alone on Christmas Eve
Maybe your home is cold and weary
The Christmas tree isn’t too cheery
And maybe life seems long and dreary
But, someone will call. No they will not.
Build a fire and make it hot. They just forgot.
Buy a present for youself. Pretend it’s Christmas… and you got
A present…. Not..
I know… buy one for a friend. Pick up the phone and call home.
You have no home. All is gone. And no one wants to talk.
When sugar pies and little children cries fill the halls of home.
Why speak of me.. or think of me.. when all are about the tree.
Hello.. Hello are you there? Please speak to me.
Billiam Potts
There are many homeless people that are alone in this world and need your support. Call them, visit them. Make them feel important again, because they used to be. Give a present to a friend on Christmas Eve. Call them.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC