ponderous poetry for the hoi polloi





Shapeshifter, middle-lane drifter,

How this Blu-tack brain of mine sure does miss her,

Her eyes, her ears, her nose…

While my head is busied with thoughts like

Railway replacement buses,

Overwhelmed with weary commuters,

Daily disputers,

Husks of humanness…

How unfair is the funfair when the fun is so far



But still I won’t give up!

(Oh no!)

And cherry-pick the moments which mean the most to


Of holding your sweet face in my hands again,

With as much love as Daphne odora does hang on to her

Flowering faces,

For though the faraway funfair is so frightfully unfair,

My mind is an endless carousel and every

Horse I ride is you.

Telephone torment

What madness are these

Midday moments of misery?

When my ears go deaf from the sound of

Faceless tears

Sent back in time from foreign fields and

Familiar mouths I long to



What madness are these

Midday moments of melancholy?

When lonely yowls do make me feel as blue as

Monsieur Majorelle’s fingertips,

Held against pneumonic lips,

Which match the colour of my toes



What madness are these

Midday moments of malaise?

When anxious nails scratch at these itchy feet,

As the phantom chilblains burn more fiercely than

Jaipurian suns,

How I long to





On such lonesome nights as these,

When the joyous pendant of tourmaline yellow

No longer drips from the sky’s neck,

My mind does seek abstraction,

A momentary distraction,

As my heart wanders through a

Crowd of fireflies,

Those nightly buttercups

Which do turn their eager heads

In search of kisses

So cruelly postponed,

Yet so carefully recreated in my

Febrile brain,

As my thoughts,

Dancing behind closed eyelids,

Like the coiled tendrils of a

Citrullus plant,

Turn to your mouth,

And though miles may separate me from you,

And you from me,

My face does still glow gold as the

Sun on your



Belgrade, grade A beauty!

Let me be your Danube, your

Caerulean ribbon and

Deep blue lover,

I’ll wrap around your

Little finger,

A pretty package for all.


Belgrade, grade A peach!

Play pass the parcel with yourself, and

Untie my aching, aqueous limbs,

I’ll be your citadel,

Sat atop your


The best seat in town.


Belgrade, grade A sweetheart!

Serbian siren with the acerbic


Jump in my time machine, so

I can play Augustus and

Conquer you once


Piccalilli Lily

She’s a silly billy,

Hair madder than fusilli,


That’s Piccalilli Lily,

A pickled delight, and a bit of a fright,

But charming all the same.



Yes! I’ve an acquired taste,

Lucky for you,

Oh lil Lily, head to toe in Piccadilly line blue,

A relishable dish for the

Daily commute,

And charming evermore.


But how far will I go,

Affable farrago,

To Cockfosters and back, just to keep up with you?

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

But a white campion is more lily-like than you!


Ah! Miss Misnomer,

City roamer,

They should’ve called you Little White Clover,

But when you spot me, this’ll all be over,

And I’ll charm you just the same.

Anne Bonny

Oh, pretty privateer

Pretty please won’t you

Plunder me for all the

Pathetic pennies I am


Worthy wanderer of the

Seven seas, sail aside my silly



I’m the Royal Navy, naïve,

You’re out to get me,

Maritime Marauder,

Make me your

Cannon fodder, plonker and


Come walk all over me.


And free me from this fruitless


Bloody booty-full

Freebooter, nightmare and




Shiver me timbers!

Tickle me pink!

Perky pirate,

Please let me sink!

Bermuda Triangle

There are three sides to

Every story – so do not

Believe all you read

Death in Paradise

Oh! Tropical thunder,

How you’ve got me feeling under

The weather,

Multicoloured malaise,

I’m as sick as a



Ah! How refreshing,

The rain still falls in the rainforest

Forever feverish,

Feverish forever,

Forever fainting at your



Alas! So pray for a Peruvian priest to

Execute the exoticism with an exorcism,

And rid me of this

Foreign body I so hate to



Little Italy

Let me unzip your boot, girl

And watch my hands roam

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