Best Humoured Poems

growing up too soon

	you said: is there anything more excruciating than lagging behind
						being passed by
	a hasbeen
				still knocking on portals
twitching toes twirling thumbs
         in fidgety drawn-curtained waiting rooms

and the always taken-for-granted toiling mothers maimed in mid-life stoopbent under...

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They thought he was a harmless fool.
His hair dyed black
And eyebrows pencilled in,
The silver outfits -
Shoulders huge -
And platform shoes.

His lyrics less than lyrical,
Chanted, shouted
At his concerts;
His hits always played at parties.

A has-bean humoured,
Perhaps patronised,
His antics tolerated.

But Gary Glitter had a dark secret…


Jack Horne for...

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"Distant" 

When winter came
it came fast 
cold as a witch's t*t

unwelcome and 
unwanted, 
we hesitate 

to move 
any further within 
the forest's interior

alarmed at how 
swift the transfiguring
of a season, begins

we think, 
now that in itself,
a dangerous thing, 

what course 
of journey, this? 
looking upwards...

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This is the story of Sally Doolally
A young maiden farmer from down in the valley
She kept a keen eye out for Thomas McNally
And dreamed of the day he would say, ‘Can we marry?’

Sally Doolally had once caught his eye
When the hat that she wore was...

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I am not the person you see

I am not the person you see,
There’s a fool, a clown inside me.
Shackled by my chains and red tape,
Only in solitude does madcap escape.
Sometimes I yearn to let go,
Be the extrovert only I know.
Show you who I really am,
Eccentric...

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light weight lamps outweigh surrounding darkness

float on wavy strings of lucid reason and emotion

translucent Christmas decorations are up to cheer

but ill-humoured disbelief has tripped the fuse box

remember there was a halo but just one single candle

close to the manger to minimize the risk of burning

the...

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There he goes again
proving them all wrong 
spent his life doing that 
they don’t cotton on 

Oh too right off in humoured fashion 
mock each day and banter bash him
make a mockery oh enjoying
openly mock it's only Trim

and he's aware and lets it fly
he knows...

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A tipped bottle on the windowsill 
next to the wine cascade,
overlooked by the half --
(empty) – moon.
The cat that painted autumn 
upon the trees, forgot me, instead, 
green turned straight 
into naked bark.

Yet, pleading for prestige is
ironic like a speech made
by a cartoon character.
It must...

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Santa Splash! And around they go.
'Round the islands and back, they row!
Surrounded by December hues,
reds and yellows, and brilliant blues.

Causey rises in purple glow
waiting the cold coming of snow.
Elves and Santas all do agree
that this event is full of glee.

What a sight as they race...

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ANOTHER DAWN

The morning winces as a new day begins
Mired in the half slumber of a restless night
And reluctant to engage whilst half awake
Like a trembling foot hovering over the brake
Good humoured dawn greetings sound trite
And the fading moon just knowingly grins

Dawn comes around so quickly...

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Villanelle : Doubt not who is Master of your conditioned Fate

Doubt not who is Master of your conditioned Fate
Ask only why your actions lead down the wrong path
All else makes for doubt doubt only if Fate's innate

Neither Past nor Future time exist inchoate
All and everything's...

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Drop hints play with my mind,waste my time, wind me up ,lows and highs, this roller coaster,i'm on your ride ,surfing your tide,choking on water,flip me around , fill my ears with false sounds,empty words, meaningless utters then leave me cold with shudders,dark empty space,...

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Today,
the emotions which arose,
contracted our consciousness 
arising from aversion
propelled by ego
owing to
a response,
which we determined
as being harsh and unjust,
whereas, after reflection,
we now recognise
that we could
have simply
have shrugged
and moved on,
humoured by the play,
being so enacted to test and jest with us,
under cover of darkness,
which we have...

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when aspect of us that is not
becomes good humoured
equal through highs and lows
feeling God in each breath
ego relinquishing all doership
becomes silence of space 
in, within but not of the world
whereupon bubble bursts
that that never was disappears
then all that is is Self alone
which always was, is...

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When I look into a mirror
who is looking back at me
I’m hoping
really, really hoping
that it is me looking back
but how will I know
that it’s really, really me
can I believe only me
the one looking in
and I hope
the one looking back 
or should I throw it out...

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