As all roads lead to Rome
(if not home)
and when there
I do as the Romans do
and pasta alla carbonara
is my favourite meal
not scallopini veal
could not have too much
pork on my fork
and as a kid for the nonce
received the nickname
'Bacon Bonce'
but when in Spain
my brain remains
mainly on a higher plane
(the mountain)
where I enjoy Jamón Serrano
(como el paisano)
produced with a quality guarantee
under the strict control
of and labeled
Consorcio del Jamón Serrano Español
Early in a damp woodsman's camp
seeing sawyers from a logging town
to stop the conversation bogging down
as asked my age among other things
I replied, 'Cut off my head and count the rings,'
then had to be quick-witted and fast-footed
made a bee-line through the trees
so as not to lose my noggin
when a burly lumberjack grabbed his axe
I ducked and dodged his mighty swing
which (in a nonce) saved my bacon (and my bonce)
and them's the actual facts
That neighbour has just banged his door.
Again yet again and yet again.
I, a one of superior quality, wish to beat
his barking bonce against the wall of his rathole.
But there’d be no grey matter
to dribble down the concrete.
An ugly slimy mush would not be excreted
from that crumbly, crinkly, brainless brainpan.
No brainbox there to squirt the grey stuff!
Oh, what do I experience?
A swirly-whirly precognition of a pleasurable
banging of that brain that isn’t there?
Do I not wish to tear it into shreds?
Funny how feral thoughts burst into one’s mind.
Again yet again and yet again, this superior
wants to beat and bounce that barking bonce.
(17 Sep 2024)
To write poems missing one vowel
I'm struggling, you should see me scowl
Nice sponsor Emile
Won't know how I feel
I’m tempted to throw in the towel!
I thought writing this would be fun
Though Emile’s contest I won’t shun
My words will not flow
Bonce is being slow
My muse whispers why don’t you run!
I’m sitting here on my blue stool
I’ve finished my poem, it’s cool
Now I must check my work
From this job I won't shirk
By following Emile’s vowel rule!
‘
I have forgot whatever you knew.
A victim of grey matter - Tabula Rasa
You wander into my mind
slam the door behind -
run headlong into a brick wall.
My head hurts with emotionally empty
empathy.
O the humanity!
Strange just got scary
my hairless bonce just got hairy.
I think I can,
I know I can....puff, then poof.
Out of steam.
Good day to you
red-faced being
I never knew.
Am I invisible... you almost knocked me flying
I’m on the pavement too, can’t you see me!
Too busy on your bloody mobile
Makes me seethe as you can see!
Head bent, hell bent on concentrating
Your ‘ostrich’ bonce buried, phone in hand
Stop texting - look where you’re going
Or I’ll say words you WILL understand
Totally oblivious to your surroundings
Get a life you stupid ignoramus
Put down your friggin’ phone
Or I’ll whack you on your lardy anus
Written after being nearly floored twice today by men on their mobiles !
6/9/19
free me
life is a player
and I am the ball
of life
whenever I bonce
on the walls of knowledge
I roll back with wisdom
somany times I fear
but life play me back up
free me
am a man of peace
I pray I work
I feel I love
I hate I ignore
am not perfect
so I don't need
to be blamed
but be encouraged
free me
I roll like a ball
through the circumstances
life bring
I jump I fall
I fail I succeed
I dream I fight
am real am positive
but remember am not
perfect
just a human like you
free me
let me sing my songs
let me write my sorrows
away in my way
let me pour out my soul
let me be right first before
my eye
let me be cos life is
a free zone if only
this shadows i see
in places could
free me
In my bonce when to nonce Just another sense but I never ponce
Billys bald bonce brought barmy thoughts
It's getting cold Billy your skin is all white
What will I do, with what, to stop the withering look
Brave Billy bought a buffalo hat to keep warm
Mightily minging* my many thoughts conveyed
Big furry ears sure as heck did the trick
Billy’s bald bonce is balmy ok, bright puce in colour
Hmm why are the hungry hounds hounding him all day?
* dirty and smelly
Penned 4 November 2016
The archway formed of trees was green
It was shade from summer's heat
Splendid archway cover invites
Come love to this retreat
Now the archway hangs in color
Rust, orange, yellow, brown
Drawing home the inhabitants
Come here from bustling town
As filtered sunlight dances there
Leaves aglow bonce with glee
Walk the road slowly in Autumn
Stressed busy life now flee
Autumn arches call come my love
Spend some time in peace~ rest
Let the burgundy surround now
'Pon autumn's road be blessed
Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
Contest: Autumn's Breath
Written August 20, 2013
I shoots the birds what lands upon my garden
An’ I shoots the birds what lands upon my shed
I’m a strapping lad and people says an ‘ard un
But I never shoots a bird what’s on my ‘ead
I did it once when I were young and reckless
I shoots this bird what landed on my nut
The blood and guts and feathers made a real mess
So now I ‘its ‘em with my rifle butt
Now if you’re out and pigeons you are popping
And one lands on your bonce you must be quick
It’ll do no good a frettin’ and a ‘opping
Just hit the little bugger with a stick
Oh I love the battle of picking out hair,
The grey ones the brown ones, mistaking the fair.
I thought it was charming that first little one, they have turned into bxxxers from that stray
single one.
Now it's all turning as they bush from my bonce.
A blanket of grey is what I would see, if i wasn't plucking and dyeing day after day!!
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