SPIRITS OF THE PARROTS
Two parrots, one red, one blue,
share one large, rotund zoo cage,
just the two of them.
There are plenty of perches,
yet they sit on the same one,
close together,
looking over a feast
of fruit and seeds to share.
They make no noise,
as if in silent prayer
before their meal.
Where are those parrots today?
Where is the cage?
Can we see their spirits
flying past the zoo, over the city,
up and down the state, across the country?
When they fly through clouds
and rest on phone wires,
can they see rallies on street corners,
counter-rallies opposite,
each group waiting for the other
to offend them, just so they can lash out
with swear words and name-calling,
refusing to even look for common ground?
No, most likely, they stay in heaven,
flying close together,
exploring the new Jerusalem,
eating fruit from the tree of life,
the red one and the blue one.
-Jennifer Fenn
Pigeons
There’s a pigeon on the rooftop
And he’s driving me insane
For his constant pigeon noises
Seem to permeate my brain
From his perch upon the chimney
He’s coo cooing to his mate
It just thunders through the building
And it comes out in the grate
The noise is quite incessant
And no matter where I sit
I still hear this damned bird calling
It annoys me, quite a bit
How I wish he’d find another house
To broadcast to his lover
Why does he have to use my roof
Why can’t he find another
? John W Fenn 26-03-2009
There’s a bear in the kitchen
He’s ever so rude
He’s drinking my milk
And he’s eating my food
He’s broken the table
He’s broken a chair
And most every surface
Is covered in hair
He’s smashed off the lock
That was once on the door
He’s ruined the curtains
And pooed on the floor
The fridge he ripped open
Stuff strewn all about
I’ve nothing for dinner
He’s eaten my trout
When this one is gone
I will do some repairs
Fit a strong door
To repel wild bears
But should they get in
Their work will be harder
I’ll store all my food
In a solid steel larder
© John W Fenn 06-12-2009
The chara’ left the pub at seven thirty
The lads were there on time, and full of cheer
We heads off for the seaside, on our beano
Me mates and me and loads of lovely beer
As soon as we starts moving we starts drinking
A couple, just to help to calm us down
Pretty soon, I’ve had a half a dozen
And that’s before the bus gets out of town
Half way there we stops off for our breakfast
A fry up’s what you need to set you right
I sits down and I tucks in to full English
At this rate I won’t last until tonight
Back on board we has a few more bevy’s
Only half an hour to the coast
Then in the pub we drinks a fair few whiskies
Before we all sits down for Sunday roast
We drinks right through until the wee small hours
I never thought I ever would survive
The next time they all go out on a beano
They’ll have to get some other mug to drive
© John W Fenn 10-08-2009
I’m learning how to fly
My Mummy says I’ll be outstanding
She say’s I need to do a little
Practice on my landing
She said to stay low level
And to use my common sense
So I’m practising by jumping
With umbrellas, off the fence
© John W Fenn 11-11-2009
“He’s a strange old fish“, the Cap’n said
As he stood on deck and scratched his head
“What say you men, what shall we do”
He asked the members of his crew
“Hang him from the mizen mast
Or tie him up, good and fast, then
Forty lashes with the cat
Does everyone agree with that”
The crew then pondered for a while
Until the Bo‘sun forced a smile
“Now Cap’n that seems rather tough
I think the poor mans had enough
He’s not a bad man or a sinner
His only crime is burning dinner
So lets just let him off the hook
Cos’ no one else on board can cook”
© John W Fenn 01-08-2009
Over in the corner
By the photo of the Queen
Lives a great enormous spider
Trying hard, not to be seen
He is very very hairy
And he’s very very fat
And the last time that I saw him
I could swear he wore a hat
Now he’s lived behind the picture
For a while, I am sure
He moved there from the gap
Between the skirting and the floor
He used to be quite cosy
In his space against the wall
With his appetite for flies
He soon found it far too small
When I walk in the room now
He will give me such a stare
And looks at me as if to say
“I really couldn’t care”
He’s bigger now, it’s frightening
And the family live in fear
When I popped out for my tea
He made the budgie disappear
My minds made up, he’s has to go
And so, I grab a towel
I walk into the lounge, and,
Did I really hear a growl?
My fathers says I’m stupid
Are you man or are you mouse?
I’ll answer him tomorrow
When I’ve finished moving house
© John W Fenn 13-07-2009
I bought myself a motorbike, two cylinders, vee twin
With a hundred wild horses waiting patiently within
I release them when I take it out and open up the throttle
But never too much all at once, I haven’t got the bottle
I’ve got myself a motorbike, two cylinders vee twin
Whenever it is sunny you will never find me in
Hacking down the highway thirty seconds to the mile
Lovin’ every minute on my face a happy smile
Had myself a motorbike, two cylinders, vee twin
Used to go out riding but I had to pack it in
The policemen caught me speeding, once too often so it seems
Now the freedom that I had, is only memories and dreams
© John W Fenn 10-07-2009
If its not on the shelf we aint got it, he said
Grinning like a sphincter
And for your embarrassing problem
That is the only tincture
It is the only ointment,
To alleviate your stress
To take away the swelling
And relieve the tenderness
I know it must be itchy, and
I know you want to scratch
But there’s nothing we can do
Until we get another batch
We’ll have some in on Friday
In the meantime please refrain
From scratching it so heartily
You’ll only cause more pain
Try soaking in salt water
Let it dry off in the air
So until next Friday afternoon
Goodbye, farewell, take care
© John W Fenn 22-01-2009
If I could have a word with God
I’d tell him I’m not pleased
Throughout the years he’s toyed with me
He tempted and he teased
He’d lead me up that primrose path
Then with my goal in sight
Spins me round a dozen times
And turn out every light
Seems to me whenever I’m
About to be in clover
Someone pulls the rug out
And I have to start all over
So please God if you’re listening
I’ve never asked for much
The next time I’m successful
Don’t kick me in the crotch
© John W Fenn 18-08-2009
If it were not for darkness
There could be no light
And without light
There can be no darkness
They are a pair
Conjoined twins
One cannot exist
Without the other
© John W Fenn 19-10-2009
It was early in the morning when the postman came to call
I was standing in my undies as I shivered in the hall
He said he had a parcel as I peered around the door
“There isn’t any name and so I don’t know who it’s for
Its this address that’s on it, and that is pretty plain
But, I’m afraid, I cannot find, a clue as to the name
If you sign here I’ll leave it, and then I’ll be on my way
I’ve ever such a lot of things I need to do today”
So, I signed the postmans’ docket, placed the package on the floor
Thanked him for his trouble as I slowly closed the door
Standing there and wondering in the middle of the hall
I removed the outer layers to reveal a soccer ball
A note attached with sticky tape explained the senders thoughts
I’d smashed his bedroom window and been well and truly caught
“I have you here on video, the ball, found on my bed
You’ve been exposed, the bill’s enclosed, so next time use your head”
© john W Fenn 19-10-2009
There’s nowt so canny and nowt so deep
As the musings of the highland sheep
They’ll talk of this and talk of that
Of what they ate and where they shat
Or ponder on life’s mysteries
Like, is the grass beneath the trees
Much finer than the stuff that grows
Down beside the old hedgerows
© John W Fenn 18-09-2009
The most appalling thing to see
According to the likes of me
Is when abroad upon the street
A child that screams and stamps its feet
And parents who then try to quell
The ravings of the child from Hell
They attempt, in their entreaty
To appease, with toy and sweety, or
Promises of things to come
A brand new bike from dad and mum
So, parents do not plead or beg
Just slap the buggers round the leg
© John W Fenn 27-07-2009
She smiled at me and asked me
“Can you spare some time
We’d like your true opinion
On criminals, and crime”
She asked me lots of questions
About the criminal classes
I told her what I thought
And how I’d kick their arses
I told her that I reckoned
These people were a curse
Then when she wasn’t looking
I ran off with her purse
© John W Fenn 03-01-2009
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