You can feel the tension mounting.
Slow to start but quickly gaining momentum,
Building to an epic moment.
A moment of true Hollywood proportions.
An assassin’s finger hovers on a trigger,
A countdown is about to reach zero.
This is the moment armies clash,
The fate of empires is at stake,
Worlds hang in the balance.
Is it over?
You realise you’re holding your breath,
The fear in your stomach stars to rise again.
Battle lines are being redrawn,
For the final showdown between good and evil.
The uncountable hordes of darkness gather,
Against them one tired man stands alone,
Gnarled hands hold an old blade.
Then the final prophecy is revealed,
“To be continued.”
I met a girl with a
star in her eye.
She didn’t sparkle but instead
radiated white-hot heat
scorching those who got
I fell for the girl with a
star in her eye.
She captured my heart as easily
as she did that heavenly body.
Now I orbit her, trapped
by her gravity.
I knew a girl with a
star in her eye.
who fell to Earth burning,
briefly so bright
before becoming just
This poem is partly based on the Doctor Who episode “The Pilot,” and the awesome illustration above was actually drawn by Stephanie Hyam who played the Heather the girl who inspired this poem.
The Wi-fi at home went down the other day,
Then all the phones crashed as well.
So me and the wife had to entertain ourselves,
It was complete and utter hell.
I asked the wife, “what can we do?
I feel like I’ve undergone electronic castration.”
She replied, “well there is one thing,
We could have a conversation.”
“Is that like Facebook?” I asked.
“Think of it like that if it helps, ” she said.
“But instead of typing,
We talk to each other instead.”
“You mean like I’m doing now,” I replied.
My wife nodded, “that’s a start,
But you’ll need to talk more,
To master conversational art.
Try asking me how my day went,
Or let’s talk about what’s for tea.
But you don’t have to text these questions,
All you need to do is speak to me.”
I felt odd, “I’ll wait for everything to work again,
It’s all very complicated, ” I said.
Then I’ll get my phone out,
And comment on your Facebook status instead.”
So the wife and I sat there all weekend,
Struck it seemed deaf and dumb.
Unable to communicate with each other,
Waiting for the Wi-fi to come back on.
Yes at last my Wi-fi is back, thank you for all your messages the blog was just on a technological hiatus, normal service is now resumed. 🙂
I’m chalking up another first for myself today in that a piece of poetry I’ve written has been turned into a comic strip.
Click to read
A quick bit of background. I’m a big fan of the Marvel hero Captain Britain and today being his birthday I’ve joined forces with Avengers UK and the talented artist Russ Leach to celebrate my favourite superhero in poetry form.
Please note this is only half the poem, the rest can be found here on the Avengers UK facebook page, enjoy.
I still remember my favourite childhood escape,
Those computer games on cassette tape.
After school loading them on to my TV screen,
Then happily getting lost in an 8-bit dream.
At space invaders I’d love to play,
Blowing those aliens back to the Milky Way.
Or I’d load Decathlon, try to beat my record,
Often instead only breaking my keyboard.
Then if I fancied a bit of a change,
I’d load up an adventure game.
Trying to guide a clueless hobbit to a ring,
While a dwarf about gold did sing.
Once I started a game, I never stopped,
Playing until I was ready to drop.
If a game finished I never felt down,
I’d just buy more from the shop in town.
Loading up my new game I’d play all night,
Fighting the good electronic fight.
But to be honest I’d play anything,
Happy to get lost in an 8-bit dream.
I’m still working my way through Uncharted 4 but while doing so I was reminded of how my gaming obsession started with the 8-bit home computer I first owned, the ZX Spectrum. A quick note – Decathlon the game was similar to Track and Field and involved rapid alternate pressing of two keys to make an athlete run. It was responsible for a lot of broken keyboards, including mine.
I remember our eyes meeting across a graveyard,
Then as we both stopped to pick them up.
Rotting desire gripped our putrid bodies,
We were both stricken with undying love.
I immediately asked you for your hand,
Which I still keep in an old green pickle jar.
When you asked me for something in return
I was happy to give you my withered heart.
You promised me you’d run away with me,
It started well, until your leg rotted.
So I gave you one of mine to take its place,
I don’t mind hopping, I’m besotted.
I said I’d love you until my last breath,
Then I realised my lungs stopped last week.
You said it was the thought that counts,
As you gnawed romantically on my cheek.
I’m sure our undying love will last forever,
We won’t part no matter how much we rot.
Because when we finally decompose I’ve chosen,
To have us both recycled as organic compost.
Today’s inspiration comes from Al the Author, every time he writes about zombies I’m inspired to put pen to paper.
I remember how keen my fingers were
To tear you quickly out of your box.
Then equip you with your trusty blaster,
Which up our Hoover was soon lost.
Oh Star Wars Death Squad commander
I loved you despite your lack of elbows and knees.
I was just happy to own a piece of Star Wars
In those days us kids were easy to please.
Sadly I couldn’t afford the Death Star
To give you a base from which to command.
So from an old box the washer came in,
I armed myself with a black felt and a plan.
To transform that mountain of waste card,
Into what I thought for you was a fitting base.
Full of trap doors, exhaust ports and cell blocks,
Plus a hidden trash compactor space.
So when you adventured with Action Man,
Or fought off a LEGO rebel attack.
You defended your cardboard Empire with pride,
But now I find that as I write this and look back.
That I wonder if I’d left you in your packet,
And put you safely away in the loft
That today your eBay value,
Might have covered a plasma TV’s cost.
But my young hands just wanted to play,
I couldn’t keep you to myself
Would we have had half as much fun
If I’d left you in the box on my shelf?
In a dress coat I looked like a stalker not a grandfather
And my cosmic hobo look was certainly more hobo.
My velvet jacket made me look like a standard lamp
And my very long scarf made running fast a no go.
Wearing some celery just raised people’s eyebrows
And my multicoloured coat just made people curse.
My question marked jumper was always ignored
And my frock coat look was just plain worse.
I’m too old to put on a worn leather jacket
And Converse just make my poor old feet cry.
Last but not least I was never really cool enough
To put on a red fez or a spotty bow tie.
Cyberpunk 2020 was one of my favourite games and thanks to Robert Ramsey and his tweets I was inspired to write this tribute to it ( the format of this poem is openly stolen from the great Vic Reeves song, ” I remember punk rock.)
I remember Cyberpunk 2020
Like it was only yesterday.
Microchips in my head
In that very special way.
Yes I remember Cyberpunk 2020
From R. Talsorian games.
Lots of mad techy ways
To hack,slash or maim.
Oh that Cyberpunk 2020
And it’s gritty world view.
Limbs replaced with cybertech
And a digital eye or two.
Oh I loved that Cyberpunk 2020
Arasaka, Millitech and Trauma team
Netrunners, fixers and rockerboys
And Euro Business Machines.
I really miss Cyberpunk 2020
It made other RPG’s seem tame.
And I miss the anticipation
Of those weekend cyberpunk games.