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Surrealist artist, poet and all-round clever-clogs, Jas Maddock has sent this for your mind to climb into.


Hats

My old handsome pal wears no hat but a Homburg
It's furry and like a dormant creature nesting
Sometimes it lopes to the side as if he is drunk
But he got funny looks when he wore it in Hamburg

The men of Hamburg all chorused like off beat chords
All shouting their decrees of 'no hamburgs in Homburg'
In a sharp hard way that was reeking of malice
In this place all men must wear diamond palaces

Sparkling aloft on their heads like angel costume
Glittering with jewelled cornices and trapped nieces
Locked in the hat palaces as folly; mere pieces
Their eyes glowing with the reflection of diamond ices.

Handsome man despaired at such frippery
A homburg sombre suited his icy personality
Not an icy confection creation reminiscent of Georgian
Ladies' wigs only without the insects and pomade

Maybe he could bow to tradition and sport
A few crystals embedded in his hair
But then he'd be giving in to fashion diktat
And so bravely stepped out in his Homburg hat!

To scornful looks and manic hate
At this Homburg wearing hat man who decided to
Wear seven at once piled like in a bargain bin
Unfortunately for him it was a big mistake

He got booed he got them screwed as then
Rapidly changing hat styles appeared on his head
First a beret, then a nice warm woolly hat
A top hat, cop that, f******s, all boring suckers

We can all wear what we want anywhere.
Homburgs in Hamburg and Top hats in Torquay
Berets in Belize and Woolly hats in Wales
Bobble hats a bobbing down in Francisco Bay.

The conform or die hat police are everywhere.

Copyright Jas Maddock.



Next, a cautionary tale from Ruth.


Sweaty Palms

Quick, look did you see
That, what passed in front of me
Gone in a flash, just over there
Look, there it goes, I really swear
You think I'm joking, don't you know
There's a mark in the pure white snow
It's skidded, look just down there
I'm sure it's tall, with yellow hair
I don't know why it was so fast
Perhaps it's from our distant past
Two big feet and hairy arms
I'm sweating down to my palms
Oh no, it's gone, it's too late
It must have been a touch of fate
I'm glad I never saw it coming
If I had, I'd have kept on running
You really think I made it up
It's all that whisky you made me sup!!!!

Copyright Ruth Nelhams.


After spending two years of my life meat-free, I was drawn back to carnivorous ways after a powerful craving for a bacon sandwich. The following piece by Samantha Jones is on a similar theme.


Health Food Lament

I'm going on a health kick, I've heard it's all the rage
I've got this vegetarian book, I'm on the second page
It tells you not to eat meat 'cause it is bad for you
What don't exactly grab me is a vegetarian stew
Oh boy, I've tried the muesli but it just made me heave
It's called designer vomit and that I can believe
I had a bash at burgers, Linda McCartney kind
Alfalfa sprouts and Tofu, I really didn't mind
I'll finally try the nut roast, maybe admit defeat
If I can't get that down me, afraid it's back to meat

Copyright Samantha M Jones.



Here's a short one from Dean Nelhams.


Untitled

There's a man who lives up my road,
who's got a peculiar gait,
he walks with a stutter,
but he's not a nutter,
it's just an idiosyncratic trait

Copyright Dean Nelhams


Lovely MarySue Searles was one of the first people to really encourage me in my writing (so blame her!) and it is my pleasure to post a couple of her wonderful poems. You can see more of Mary's excellent work by visiting her website via the links page. Thanks, Mary!


On Being Middle-Aged

I'm thirty-eight and it's the pits.
I've lost my looks. I'm losing my wits.
Now here's the truth -
I've lost my youth.
I've even lost my once taut tits.

Oh, woe is me. Alack! Alas!
I miss the days when lad loved lass.
Looking around,
I've even found
That no one admires a middle-aged ass.

Spare me, though, your pitying glance.
I'd rather dream of a flaming romance.
Instead, I'll take
An ego break,
And join myself in old memories' dance.

Copyright MarySue Searles


Green Beans and Jared

During supper:

A smile from Jared
and green beans fall out.

Talking from Jared
and green beans drool out
and sometimes splatter out.

An examination of fingers in mouth
and green beans smear about.

And after about ten bites
green beans are spewed out.

Copyright MarySue Searles



Ruth Nelhams has sent in this quirky poem to brighten our day!

Archibald Gray

I once knew a man called Archibald Gray
Who wasn't quite straight and wasn't quite gay
He lived in a town called Munderfield Harrold
He didn't go far, he wasn't well travelled

Now Archibald Gray had a problem you see
This I know, 'cos he confided in me
He said if I told of what happened to him
He'd make quite sure that I'd sink and not swim.

Archibald Gray had a most unusual quirk
His eyes would roll on the mention of work
On the day of his birth, he was dropped on the floor
He rolled through the room, and through the theatre door

A nurse picked him up, inspecting the bundle
Shoving him down the shut with a tumble
He travelled still further in an old garbage can.
Flung with some force into a rusty old van.

To the tip it did speed with incredible haste
This driver I'm sure had no time to waste
On dumping his burden, poor Archibald Gray
Stayed there all night and most of next day

His mother distraught and crying in vain
"Where is my baby? All I've got is this pain."
"Don't worry my dear, no problem I'm sure"
"We know that he rolled right out of the door."

After some hours that very next day
A policeman found poor Archibald Gray
Covered in slime and unmentionable clutter
The policeman rang the hospital, with a terrible stutter.

"I I I I I've found your b b b baby Mrs. Gray this is true.
No worse for the wear, but I'm afraid he's turned blue."
"Bring him straight back to me, I don't care what he's like."
She wasn't prepared on seeing the bike.

You all can imagine, the horror and fear
As his mother looked at Archibald's rear.
A bike was stuck right up his bum.
A frog in his ear and a bone on his thumb.

I can tell you right now it took many days
To remove all the things in various ways
But now when Archibald Gray hears a bell.
It makes him fart and produce a foul smell.

He jumps, not walks so he never gets far
Barks like a dog when driving his car
Poor Archibald Gray won't ever be right
So I thought I would tell of his terrible plight.

Copyright Ruth Nelhams.



Our old pal, The Cheezer returns with this short but amusing verse:

Interjecture

There's nothing more boring
Than a lecture
In 21st century
Architecture.

Copyright Stuart Brewster 2001




Here are a couple from MarySue that say a lot about men and women!

Married Men

"I've admired you for years"
(at brunch)

"No involvement, no tears"
(at lunch)

"But I care; have no fears."
I should have listened to my hunch!

Copyright MarySue Searles.


Chivalry

It is not kind to dump a woman
Before she has tired of him.

Copyright MarySue Searles.



Here's a cheeky one from Samantha!

My Bud

I picked up little buddah
And rubbed his little tum
But I 'ad 'im upside down
And rubbed his little bum

Copyright Samantha M Jones



Please excuse a little self-indulgence with this one. Thanks, Ruth!

Feeling Happy.

One day when I was feeling glum
With nothing much to do
Skipping through the Internet
I came across a site or two

'Stupid Poetry' did catch my eye
So I stopped to have a browse
I laughed and laughed my knickers off
And stayed for hours and hours

I read the poems on the screen
It cheered me up. I smiled
So I wrote a few of my own.
I didn't feel so riled

I'd like to thank you Stephen
For making me feel happy
Keep up the good work my friend
You've stopped me feeling crappy

Copyright Ruth Nelhams