Bank Holiday

It’s a Monday bank holiday morning,
And I awake slowly and yawning.
I stifle my alarm’s infernal din
As I realise I can have a lie in !
So I refuse to let my head clear
And instead form a simple idea.
That starts with re-closing weary eyes
Then reawakening my sleepy desire
Then as slumber comes to reclaim me
Retiring again under the duvet.

Yesterday was a bank holiday in the UK so typically it rained and I wrote a poem !

A Widow visits the Necropolis

You hold what I love
For this I hate you.
Yet I still give you flowers
That you just let rot.
You stir my memories
Both good and bad.
Of how it might have been
Which now never can be.
Then though I vow not to cry
I break this as easy as.
You break my heart
Every time I see you.


Observations in a Boozer

Bloodshot eyes peer out
From under a faded baseball cap,
While shaky hands can only be stilled
By cuddling his glass.
Then like a fisherman’s nets
He casts out words
Trying to snare a conversation,
But the bait is poor
And nothing bites.
So he turns back to
His intense contemplation
Of the charity collection tin.
Drink finished and glass slammed down
He gives a goodbye both
Muffled and ignored
And he’s gone.


I visited a new pub on the way home from work last night and spotted the man who inspired this poem propping the bar up.  The poem itself is my idea of what this chaps character is, I didn’t speak to him and for all I know this might be a complete character assassination ?

Life is just too short

As I go about my life,
Avoiding trouble , strife
And time-wasting guff
Stopping me doing stuff.

I find …

I don’t want to take your survey
You see,  I’m in a hurry
And I’ve already tried your product
And to summarise , it sucks !


When I place my food order
On rudeness does it border
To ask me if I will add fries
I simply don’t have the time !

But what really takes the proverbial biscuit…

Is that I am sitting here writing
And though it can be exciting
I should stop at the next line
As I simply don’t have time !



This poem is based on a series of events that happened to me last week all when I was busy.

DDOcast 229

ddo poetry corner 49

Death of a Local Eyesore.


The Overstrand
So under used
And over rated
Now under going
Un ceremonious
Over eagerly wanted

Inspired by the glorious news that a local eysore in my home town called, ” The Overstrand ” is at last going to be demolished I have put pen to paper to celebrate. Full details of this loathed piece of local architecture can be found by following the link below.



A portrait of my daughter at nearly three years old.

Duvet kicker-offer,
Fast yogurt scoffer.
Dressing up lover,
Jigsaw puzzle solver.
Crys crocodile tears,
Over bruised knees.
Generous hug sharer,
Never a grudge bearer.
Sometimes patience tester,
100% natural jester.
Always proud of
Daddies true love.

Squeak at the Moon

Walking home past a creepy old pet shop,
I was coming home late last night.
When a small creature out of the dark shot,
Who proceeded to give me a tiny bite.
I went straight to the hospital,
They said I was OK, so was home soon.
However all it seems was not well,
As I found out at the next full moon.
I awoke that night with an odd feeling,
While at the window the moon rose.
I grew fur, whiskers and a small tail,
With a very cute bright shiny nose.
Rising in a state of terror and panic,
I looked in my bedside mirror.
Looking back at me I could see,
Was a Were Hamster, oh what terror!
Strange urges now took control,
For me that night there was no rest.
Firstly I found a load of old newspapers,
Chewing them to build a big nest.
Then as I lay down inside it,
Wondering where this would lead.
I was overtaken by a new craving,
A hungry urge to eat sunflower seeds.
So I went outside into the garden,
For it was there the sunflowers were.
Then with a swift blow from my claws,
Not a single delicious plant was spared.
While I gorged on the tasty seeds,
Another odd urge I began to feel.
I chewed and thought about it,
Where would I find a giant hamster wheel?
Then the solution hit me quickly,
I scampered into a farmer’s field.
There spying his tractor all alone,
Its big back tyre I began to steal.
I rolled around in the tyre in ecstasy
Feeling this night mustn’t end soon.
I was having such great fun,
Raising my head I squeaked at the moon.
Next morning human again I awoke in my nest,
The night before seemed so unreal.
But there against my garage wall,
Was my tractor tyre hamster wheel.
So now every full moon I change,
And go out and fulfill beastly needs.
By having a good run in my wheel,
And stuffing myself with sunflower seeds.



Selective Rioting

The untouched charity shop
Stands next to the looted TV store.
The smashed designer clothes emporium
Next to the pristine Starbucks.
Broken glass crunches underfoot
As boarded windows line the streets.
Blue police tape decorates the path
As its owners loiter looking tired.
The city stirs uneasily from the looting
And people talk about nothing else.


I was going to finish my jolly little barbecue poem this morning but instead after two days of walking through the debris of the Birmingham looting I changed my mind.

DDOcast 228

Comments on the Risia ice games this week and if you haven’t heard there is also some sad news. Next week will be my last DDOcast poetry corner and then once Skagtravaganza is done I am retiring from the DDO poetry business, the reason behind this is simply after a year I feel my inspiration is running dry and I need to recharge my creative batteries. Watch for news of my next project coming soon on this site.

ddo poetry corner 48