Monday, 24 January 2011

Pre-birthday breakdown/ silly haiku poem

Yesterday I became 25! Which was nice. Had a lovely day out in Oxford - fresh food, yummy friends, bit of old air.

Luckily I'd managed to get my annual birthday meltdown out of the way the day before ...

Turning 25

Saying goodbye
Felt stranger
Than I'd thought it would.

Nothing on my ipod
Matched my mood,
And I flicked through

Tune after tune,
Sitting on the rail replacement
Bus service,

Not sure where
I was going
Or how to call Phil,

Since my phone battery
Was dead
And I didn't have change

For the phone booth
At Liverpool Street.
Late to meet

Phil's sister for the first time,
Claustrophobic on the central line,
Panicky on the northern,

And tomorrow
I'll be 25
And I don't know what to do.

That was FAR TOO GLOOMY and should have been REPRESSED. Quick quick, here is a silly poem featuring a bird and a worm:


'Haiku', mused the bird.
'Bless you',
Replied a passing worm,
Who assumed
That the bird had sinus problems.


Monday, 17 January 2011

Those pointy bits are not decorative


I'm not very good
With plants,
Which they seem to know
In advance.

As soon as I own them
They start to wilt
And die,
Except for the cacti

On my sill,
Which, try as I will,
Won't give in.
Resilient, they reach

For the sky, occasionally
Surprising me,
With a sharp, sudden


Thursday, 13 January 2011

A retrospective weather report

The sunrise on Monday

The sunrise
On Monday
Was stunning.

Pinks and reds, spread
Across the sky,
To surprise
Me when I left
For work.

I lingered,
Trying to soak it in,
And I wondered
If everyone else did too.
Did those
People at the bus stop know?
Or care?

Did bus drivers stare
At the horizon?
(Probably best
If not, since admiring views,
In my experience,
Tends to compromise
Road safety.)

In the staff room,
To brighten the mood,
I mentioned
The beautiful dawn.

'Ah', said Mr Byham,
'Red sky in the morning,
Shepherd's warning.
That means there's a storm

Rather more doom
In that response
Than I expected.
(But then again,
It has rained
Quite a bit


Sunday, 9 January 2011

A chocolate story

A good weekend! Which involved making chocolate brownies. Yum yum yum. But here is a story about chocolate with a much less happy ending....

When hot chocolate goes bad

She found it
In the corner
Of a cupboard
And she used it
Once or twice.

Then one night
Before bedtime,
She poured out a mug-full.

This tastes,
She thought,
A bit odd,
A bit off.
But she didn't investigate
The best before date,
Until it was too late.

The past-its-best powder
Was already inside her,
Disrupting her physical
And moral

Next morning she felt
Out of sorts, disgruntled,
Almost - yes - curdled.

All day long
She frowned
And put down
Her friends
And she even forgot
To recycle.
(The end.)


Sunday, 2 January 2011

Greenwich (pigeons)


The pigeons are nicer
In Greenwich.
By which
I mean healthier,
More delicious (probably).

They live mainly, I'd say
On M&S sandwiches
And bits of quiches
Left behind
By middle-class picnickers.

The pickings,
I admit,
Must be slimmer
In winter
But they still look a lot better
Than the ones in the car park
Of Tesco Xtra.


Saturday, 1 January 2011

Bean burgers and sock puppets

New Year 2010

On New Year's Eve
We stayed in
With sloe gin
And whisky
To make bean burgers
For dinner
And sock puppets
For fun.

By 11.30
We were weary,
More sleepy
Than merry
But we went, anyway
To the park,

Where, along dark(ish)
Paths people wound
Their way to 'the mound'
With its view
Across to the London Eye
And around.

The night was nicer
Than the day had been.
Greyness doesn't matter so much
When it's dark.


Happy New Year!