Shiver me timbers and blow me down
By climate change Juneau who was drowned
News spins around my head.
Killings, a brave puppy dog
saving a kitten,
rape & heroic deeds
done by cop and villain.
October surprises loom,
we are led by the nose
to suppose
he lied
or tried hard to tell the truth.
Forgive me for asking
but can the news cycle
get a puncture just once.
Blow me down
with a killer clown,
shock the horror
let the cat out
of its peekaboo bag.
Take a knee,
rest and drop -
that smoking gun is a prop
cool the hot-cross bun some.
Mute the chattering
media flunky's.
Not news is good
for news junkies,
yet bad stuff happens
and we must all chase it,
run it down
and claim the day
as if we owned it.
The wolf
When I was a child,
I dreamt of white picket fences,
And cuddling on a coach.
Long walks on a beach,
And hot chocolate on a winters’ night.
Instead three months into marriage.
I was welcome with a fist.
My dreams were scattered into nightmares of horrors and pain,
My hopes were blowing up in vain.
Although life was growing inside me.
It did not stop the pain.
More beatings and humiliation,
Leads to lies, to family, doctors and friends.
How long must I keep on?
Or my walls will crumbling down.
My wolf is not outside my house,
That blows my house down.
He lied his way inside,
And broke my guard down.
Like a pig prepared for slaughter,
He broke me piece by piece down.
His howls was just as worst as bites,
He brought his wrath down with might.
Can someone please come rescue me?
From the big bad wolf,
Whose huffs and puffs,
Blow me down.
Date: 6/08/21
Contest: Word Play Poems with Play -on-word Raison D'etre--Poetry
Sponsor: John Anderson
Who has seen the wind?
Well, blow me down.
Blow me right down.
I mean it is cold, really cold
Then there’s the wind.
The damned cold wind.
Wind chill, wind chill
Damn it.
It scrapes your cheeks.
Ices your ears.
Numbs your fingers
Chills your legs.
Freezes your feet.
I have seen the wind and the answer is:
Central heating.
Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Who’s that knocking on my door
again—and again—and again
on this day of all days?
Well, blow me down!
She’s back, the part-time poet--
confused, singin’ in the rain!
I stand here
mindful of the past and its lessons.
Baby Face, what’s you thinking?
STOP! Please don’t say that!
Susie, please stop talking.
Hello—Goodbye.
Good riddance!
July 5, 2019, entered in Charles Messina's Collaboration of Your Titles
Poetry Contest
A sailor who loved costume parties
would shout out a wild, “Aye, me hearties!”
This old buccaneer,
role playing with cheer,
got mimicked by all the young smarties.
April 14, 2019
entered in Tania Kitchin's Pirate Themed Poetry Contest Placed third
CENSORED: a kind of unfinished symphony
This hammer made my finger sting
The flaming, silly, soppy thing
Now I’ve hit my poor old thumb
Oh my giddy aunt, ho hum
My right leg’s broke below the knee
Goodness gracious, pity me
I just nearly broke my neck
Blow me down and what the heck
Oops, I think I’ve been misled
That bridge was lower than he said
What a shame I won’t get far
The roof’s gone off my poor old car
Gosh, the milkman’s nicked my wife
That’s how it goes, I guess... that’s life
My word, I just fell in the lake
What am I like, for goodness sake
So tell me, is it midnight yet?
Fifty quid, I’ve won the bet
So off you go and toodle pip
Block your ears as I let rip............... HOLY F....!!!
30 December 2018
For Brian Strand’s Contest 535
Well blow me down, miracles still happen
Life is still made of pure silk and satin
A really big surprise
If our outlook is high
Unless by chance, a bunch of poop you walk in
Whisper, whisper goes the wind,
Ruffling though my leaves.
I will not let him blow me down,
I’ll proudly bend with the breeze!
Drip, drip, goes the rain,
As it falls right through my branches!
I quietly let it slide right down my trunk,
And run into the ditches.
Yer briny whore
akin to boar
wit' mangy hide 'n scurvy-pocked
chomped 'n chewed
me black 'n blue
wit' carnassial chompers as of croc
Be curs'd, yer nit
me ample bits
equated ter yer own be nowt
yerz be carnivorous
scaly 'n scabrous
yer plaque be axed ter beef up grout
Uncomely wench
yer skunky stench
blunted me hook 'n scorched me beard
me peepers stung
me hornpipe hung
shorn ter th' bone 'n shrivelled 'n seared
Comely 'n curvy
riddled wit' scurvy
th' cap'n's whore-maid tooken yer whole
yer rat o' th' sea
holed and *****
yer fired yer cannon in a rottin' port'ole
Blow me down, lover!! I love it when we talk dirty.
(Hahahaha. I see the Soup powers-that-be deleted my word. I swear it's not used as a swearword. The word rhymes with "hussy". lol)
You fill me with hope then storms blow me down
When I smile you create happy into a frown
Promises of being a father, sadly I believed you
Back to square one i'm alone deja vu
Called me a parasite to crawl somewhere away
Scum and digusting is something else you say
Called me ugly and stupid for those years
Th cruelness won't reduce me to anymore tears
I hate you, detest you and us forever to be apart
Decision final daddy, you have no place in my heart
Dearest downfall, constant fiend,
You seek my out, in darkest dreams.
You know my faults and play them well,
Accompany me to planes of hell.
Longest time, you hide and watched,
Build me up then throw me off.
Debary thick, it always is;
A simple life I’ve yet to live.
Your will is strong, unflinching ore,
Amaze me with the pain you cause.
Poke and Prod, You’ve yet to score,
The killing blow…to end this war.
Armours gone, Thiers no defence,
Take me now, in all good sense.
For if you stop and give me space,
I’ll claim myself and go to waste.
Tell me foe, why don’t you bore?
Same mistakes can’t give you more.
Can you see a part you’ve left?
Take it now and add to theft.
Torn and raw, you stripped me bare,
I stand in hope of mercies care.
Care enough to send the wind,
To blow me down, absolve my sins.
And when I hit, the stony ground,
Strength enough to keep me down.
For if I fall to meet the earth,
She’ll open up, and keep me there.
14 July 2010
The Sea Rover
Moving sideways or careening
All hands hoay and avast ye
Sea dogs and landlubbers go on pillaging
Jolly Roger is flapping guarded by cannon and artillery
Pistol, daggers, and doubloon among things inside the sea-chest
Walk the plank if they caught you as offenders
Or heave to an island and marooning them as helpless
Yo ho ho! and a bottle of rum as a way of pirate’s laughter
As the ship rolled about on high seas
Plenty of cackle fruit to serve a salmagundi
A drink of grog or bumboo wobbled their sea legs
In tossing ship, proves them as scallywags
Blow me down! alerted by a cannon blast
The enemies have climbed on their Jacob's ladder
Black spot meet their way on to Tortuga’s vast
All hearty and brave soldiers have fallen to Davy Jone’s locker
You’re ninety two, well blow me down
I never would have guessed
You look so young and sprightly
And seem so full of zest
You’ve got your hair, its all your own
Your teeth are yours, not false
The way you talk, it’s obvious
Your mind’s intact, of course
What’s that you say, I’m sorry
Sometimes I can’t quite hear
It’s fifty two, not ninety
My word you do look *****
© John W Fenn 22-05-2009
Whisper in my ear
Caress me in the warm night
Wind, don't blow me down
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