My great-aunt, Ada, said to me;
you’re like your father used to be;
I never knew quite what she meant
or cared, I had a life unspent.
Her sister, Mary, gave me books
which I devoured like cakes she cooks;
both were born Victorian girls
their high church collars, necks of pearls
whose tut-tuts shaped my father’s core;
gossiped my mother was a whore;
in which, sadly, there was some truth
notably after red vermouth
or Babycham and brandy wine;
the show of stocking tops a sign.
My grandma Hanna was the third
of sisters, with some values shared
before year ninety sixty nine,
who knew the truth, and broke the line;
encouraged me to go to sea;
not shelter in the morbid lee.
Categories:
tuts, grandmother,
Form: Rhyme
Febrile Fog obfuscates palimpsest varnished promises..
Naysayers hoodwinked... deluded players peeling layers..denuded..
Deafening din of our chagrin...
Espoused by rabbles roused by mandarins’ sins..
Tarnished...pampered pilferers pickpocketing public purses...
Deploring the warring cacophony of citizens curses..
Ignoring the boring nagging nadir of nurses...
Corporate castles built without stilts on hourglass sands..
Placards versus lanyards..
Culprits preach parsimony from privileged pulpits..
Civic critics.. protests...pyrrhric..?
No tut tuts..relax…gluts of tax cuts for property sluts..
Licentious larcenists..lust for boom then bust..
Lavishly lacing our lives with lies..
Yet the more we holler...hanker..
Murky truths get darker...muckier.. starker..danker..
Avaricious arsonists torching our cries of why...
Leave us lolloping in a regret & forget.. leaking latrine...
Reeking of what could & should have been..
Categories:
tuts, health, political,
Form: Rhyme
There once was a man nicknamed " Nutty "
It was down to the way he played Footie,
Each match he'd score ten
Again and again
Then he'd pop off for a pint and a butty.
Each family tree has its nuts.
Such ones are quirky, have guts!
But to them, no surprise!
Their mum rolls her eyes.
She lets out a sigh and tuts.
He went to a sanitarium.
He thought it was an aquarium.
" So, I'm nutty says you?
You haven't a clue!
I'm really a veterinarian. "
" You are nutty! " Says you to me.
Is this a complement? Am I funny?
But then you pretend
That it wouldn't offend
You ask, " What's the matter honey? "
Written 19th September 2021
For the " N " Contest - Sponsor : Constance La France
Categories:
tuts, funny, humorous,
Form: Limerick
BITTER NOW THE FALLbitter now the Fall... Jack Frost cold
squirrels hoarding... burying nuts
jay's... birds... clever... stealing... so bold
listen... squirrel so irate... tuts...
days shorter... moon lights the darkness
ivy... fords shelter from the cold...
birds benefit... dense the foliage
holly bids... welcome to its fold
who teaches this vital knowledge...
days shorter... moon lights the darkness
#LAST WORD POETRY,
Categories:
tuts, autumn,
Form: Free verse
While out on the playground sitting on grass
Teacher asked question of her third grade class
What will you all do
When you finish school?
Little Johnny replied quick as a flash
A tree is what I want to be when I am all grown up
“You cant be a tree” said the teacher stuttering tuts
“Why Not”? he exclaimed
To the teachers disdain
“We both have limbs, trunks and nuts”
Categories:
tuts, funny, humor,
Form: Limerick
In the middle of the night,
When the moon shines bright,
A creature stirs with a terrible bite,
And his name is Spoonfang.
This vampire with a spoony face,
Has developed quite the taste,
For creatures of the pudding race,
Has the greedy Spoonfang.
So when the stars through dark clouds peek,
Into the kitchen he will creep,
And a tasty snack he’ll sneak,
Will the crafty Spoonfang.
Mousse and trifle, cake of cheese,
Ice-cream left in the deep freeze,
He’s had a bite of each of these,
Has the naughty Spoonfang.
But tonight he’s set his eyes,
Not on mother’s tasty pies,
But on Gran’s birthday surprise,
A gateau all for Spoonfang.
And so he creeps along the floor,
Tip-toes to the kitchen door,
But someone else is there before,
The bold and daring Spoonfang.
Count Spatula! The greatest Pudding Vampire of them all!
Both the vampires get a fright,
Their screams echo through the night,
And someone switches on the light,
On Spatula and Spoonfang.
Mother tuts and shakes her head,
Sends son and father back to bed,
Neither vampire has been fed,
Not Spatula nor Spoonfang.
Maybe there’s a little Pudding vampire in all of us!
Categories:
tuts, childhood, food, children, kids,
Form: Rhyme
Weighty words wasted on the east wind
blowing down Dame Street
they don’t heed or even hear them
the footsore army of suits and students
the new Abraham or Jesus or Muhammad
cries out
but is ignored
shoulder pushed to the side as the bus pulls up
cries out
new truths
replace the old
faith has become comical and morally weak
Bus pulls away and the Saviour is alone
in the crowded city
Screams
as the police move in
no laughter or mocking
just snorts of disapproval and ‘tuts’ of annoyance
eyes back down to the pavement
count the sore steps home
the rosary of the church of the rat-race
must have its homage
He could be the One
One true Saviour – again!
but this world would crucify him
with apathy and loose change
FREE this week ‘URBANIA’ contemporary poetry collection
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Categories:
tuts, metaphor, poetry, sad, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
A small stretch of bar to call my own:
I cover it with my paper and a thin book of poems -
Most I don't understand at all
Some, unfortunately, I understand too well.
A TV in the corner
tut tuts 20 thousand screaming Yankee fans
into a shushing murmur that drifts
amongst the guests like an oversolicitous maitre' d.
I discuss favorite movies with the bartenders -
kids really, and one, incredulously
insists that Running Scared, the Paul Walker version,
is the best movie ever.
I could love him for that.
Disembodied pieces of conversations
roam unmolested through the air -
"What are you doing after work tonight?" -
"Smoking marijuana"
And
"Lets put on our PJs".
Categories:
tuts, people,
Form: Free verse