Poetry

My ex’s Mother

The ex’s Polish Mum got her false teeth from a catalogue
And her diabetes, plus a love of sweeties, would give her awful wind
Which would then make her teeth fall out at random
I’d get the giggles, I’m afraid, then she’d catch those giggles
And her teeth would fall out all over again.
She didn’t speak much English and me not much Polish
But we’d have a fantastic time laughing.
I really loved that woman…who bought her teeth from a catalogue.

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Poetry

Apples

My Gran once had an apple tree in her garden.
The most dangerous ruddy tree in the county.
If you climbed it, you’d quite possibly fall and die.
If you stood under it, an apple might hit you and you’d die.
If you ate one of those cooking apples raw, you’d get tummy ache and die.
If you planted anything in its shade. Then it would die.
Of all the ills in all the world, over all of time, nothing was as dangerous.
As the apple tree my Gran once had in her garden.

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Poetry

Ears.

You can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear.
Yet, if you stopped and asked the sow, my dear.
The response would be perfectly clear.
‘I love that organ….it’s pretty in pink and helps me hear
Now keep your hands off of my fucking ear’

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Poetry

I love you

The more you get to know me, the more likely it is that I’ll love you.
Don’t be scared, it’s going to happen anyway, I’m afraid. It’s true.
There are more types of love in the world than Eskimos have words for snow.
Try ‘Agape’ because I love humankind. The bastards.
Or ‘Storge’ because you’re my Dad. And you bloody love me too.
I’d have ‘Pragma’ if we were married and old. In sickness and in health and DIY.
The love I have for myself is ‘Philautia’. It’s why I’m here and now.
I’ve ‘Philia’ for all the poets and dreamers I respect, who’ve supported me this far.
It’s ‘Ludus’ if I flirt but am testing your waters. Even play flirting between friends.
‘Eros’ is the love you’re thinking of. The sexy, powerful, all encompassing love.
So if I tell you I love you, don’t be scared or build that wall…I might not want to jump your bones.
But, apart from my Dad, I wouldn’t rule it out, just yet.

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Poetry

Recent puns.

I’ve just seen an elephant outside running about shouting ”Boo”. I think it must be the Elephant of Surprise.

I do all my gardening with a teaspoon. It’s a non-secateur.

I dated a short order chef once but the steaks where too high.

Did you hear about the Condom Killer? He was a spermicidal maniac.

I dated a wine dealer once but he was a sake bastard.

Just been trying to chat up the greengrocer in town but he wouldn’t lettuce.

What does Death play when it’s not busy? Pooh Styx.

I dated this trapeze artist once but the paint went everywhere

I’ve been reading up on this Combination Diet. It certainly isn’t all beer and Skittles.

I’ve decided to chuck it all in and retrain in a maternity ward. I think I’m having a midwife crisis.

They were selling fresh fish in the Pound Shop this morning. It was cheapskate.

I dated that Noam Chomsky once. He was ever so semantic.

I’ve got a new job as a UN Spokesperson. They’re going to pay me per country I sort out. I can’t complain, it’s Piece Work

I dated Pavarotti once but Letchworth was too much change for a tenor.

I got arrested for stalking down Saville Row last week. I was only following suit.

Why did Santa sign up for Twitter? He wanted to maintain his online presents.

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