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Best Poems Written by The Didds

Below are the all-time best The Didds poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Cuba Burns While Castro Fidels

Farewell then Fidel Castro
You have come to the end of your show
With Che and a cigar you seemed so cool
But over Cuba you no longer Raúl ...

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2016



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Size Matters Not

Big.
Small.
Short.
Tall.
Whatever...

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2015

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Shoulds, Coulds and Woulds

I picked up on a line posted by Gail From Devizes in another place and my mind wandered... 


Shoulds, Coulds and Woulds.   
A short poem on self reflection.
By The Didds

I pondered Ebenezer from the stone on which he stood...
I wondered why he stands on that instead of on some wood
Had I the chance to alter that I probably would
Though I realised afterwards that I'm not sure if I could.

Or even that I should,

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2015

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Dong But Not For Long

They clapped a clock
At noon today.
Some gave applause,
Some yelled "Hooray"
Some others weeped,
They shed a tear,
We no longer
Big Ben will hear.

For four long years
Silence will reign
In Westminster
But there's no pain
Busses will pass
MPs will sleaze
Time will just pass
Like a summer breeze

What will the Beeb
Do 'fore the news
Just shout six bongs?
Give us a clue!
And at midnight
Will there be nought
Instead of chimes,
Just silence caught?

It's not the end
As some would say,
Sobbing, wailing,
Grieving away.
It will be back,
In a few years,
So stop grieving,
Give it three cheers!.

Its just a bell
that makes a "dung"
It's not yet war
with Kim Jong-un.
There's so much more
We need to fix
So just forget
Big Ben at Six.

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2017

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Swimming - a Non Bilateral Technical Mantra

stroke, roll,
stroke, roll,
breath

climbing along the water's surface,
body turning on a skewer,
breathing bubbles,
exhaling fully,
metronomic to a viewer

stroke, roll,
stroke, roll,
breath

fingertips, wrist and elbow angled
each below the other in turn
break the surface
then pushing forward
spinning the torso in return

stroke, roll,
stroke, roll,
breath

catch before the full arm extension
pulling along the "railway track"
feel the water
hard on the forearm
and spinning the body right back

stroke, roll,
stroke, roll,
breath

continue the stroke under the 'pit
pulling the elbow high and clear
uncock the wrist
pull with the triceps
whilst pushing the hand to the rear

stroke, roll,
stroke, roll,
breath

lips breaking the top of the water
eye spying the rope of the lane  
one sharp breath in
the wrist leads the way
to start it it all over again

stroke, roll,
stroke, roll,
breath

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2015



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Lf52 Asv

LF52 ASV
Farewell Independence 106,
You served our Joseph well,
From driving lessons, 
To Scottish holidays,
What stories you could tell,
Also a runaround for me,
LF52 ASV

Dearest Peugeot model 106,
Your toughness you did hide
A prang at Black Dog,
Then rear ended in Bath,
You took them in your stride,
Accepting what would be would be,
LF52 ASV

That wonderful little 106
Took Joe from boy to man
From sixth form commutes
Workplace, and pub quiz nights
And doubling as a van,
Showing the workhorse you could be
LF52 ASV

You exist no more you 106,
You're at the breaker's yard,
Paperwork all done,
Scrap fee received in full,
The farewell's been quite hard,
Goodbye our trusted jalopy
LF52 ASV

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2016

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Fiddling About

Fiddling About. 
by The Didds

Annual Concert, DMT, Time to act, you and me,
At Dauntsey School, a painted floor, performed in the round, 
with rehearsals at Sheep Street church, St Joe's school hall, the con club too,
learning dances, blocking acting, making lovely sounds

Odessa, Ukraine, in 1881, 
Kiev and Chernigov , don't forget Poltava
At Taurida, Kherson, Yekaterinoslav,
Violence in Belorussia, and Lithuania

We didn't start the Pogrom
It all began in Russia
Ended up in Prussia
We didn't start the Pogrom
But we tried to show it
On a stage so well lit

Golde, Tevye, crippled horse, this show was a tour de force,
Tzeitel, Hodel, Chava, Shprintze, Bielke too
Rabbi, Reb Mordka, Butcher Lazar, Yente
Motel, Fyedka, what should Perchick do?
Joseph Stalin, Alexander and Tzarin, 
Preceded by Black Hundreds, Czar Nicholas, spilling blood
Smela, Kishinev 1903 much death
More trouble, much rubble in Aleksandriya

We didn't start the Pogrom
It all began in Russia
Ended up in Prussia
We didn't start the Pogrom
But we tried to show it
On a stage so well lit

Tevye's House, Mordkha's bar, Siberia's so very far,
Railway, Market Place, Anatevka is our space,
butcher shop, police post, and Frumah-Sarah's ghost,
Grandmother Tzeitel's dead, parents laying in their bed

Death camps, Dachau, Belsen and  Auschwitz-Bercenau
Treblinka, Chelmo, Final solution no?
Why these? Just because, Nazi Party, Holocaust,
Reinhard Heydrich and Goeth , Klaus Barbie- butchers three

We didn't start the Pogrom
It all began in Russia
Ended up in Prussia
We didn't start the Pogrom
But we tried to show it
On a stage so well lit

Constable, wedding, broken plates, ripped bedding
Perchik beaten, five chickens not eaten,
Lazar's present rejected, traditions not respected
Yente ignored, candlesticks on the floor

Fleeing Syria, refugees have come so far
Yemen Jews, on the news, pogroms happening today

We didn't start the Pogrom
It all began in Russia
Ended up in Prussia
We didn't start the Pogrom
But we tried to show it
On a stage so well lit

Our musical, tells the truth, its named "Fiddler On The Roof",
Tragic story, happenings gory,
Exit, edict, just a show, but there's nowhere to go, 
Taliban, Afghanistan, Jews are hated in Iran, 
The middle east, Palestine, muslim jihad, bombed airline

Hatred breeds, refugees, boats sink, while they flea
Just like Tevye's daughters four, off to sleep on Avram's floor
On and on these pointless wars, I can't take it anymore

We didn't start the Pogrom...

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2016

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Singing

Singing
(With thanks to John Miles.)

Singing was my first love,
And it may be my last,
Singing in the future,
Came from singing in the past...

First was singing at school,
Happy songs and ditties,
And a solo first verse
Of 'Royal David's City

Then to the local choir
To sing along in church
hymns and carols, where on
the edge of a pew I'd perch

Soon the joys of rugby
Enticed me from the choir
With songs of maidens named
Dinah and Delilah

We'd sing of Immobile,
and then "The Sloop John B"
And a Dickie-Die-Doe
My rugby team mates and me

Then a hip replacement
Stopped all the running stuff
Rugby and triathlon
My body had sung "Enough"

My soul cried out for more
My brain would not relent
From finding a way to
Assuage my musical bent

Next up was D.M.T.
And also TiTCo too
Concerts and musicals
Sung, and operas with W.H.O.

As-hoc singing as well
Sea shanties down the pub
And those  stand up, floor spots
At Seend Acoustic Club

So here I sit today
The score upon my desk
Learning my tenor line
For whichever show comes next.

Singing was my first love,
And it may be my last,
Singing in the future,
Came from singing in the past...

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2015

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Ode To Alf

Farewell then Alf Mitchell - Or is it Warren Garnett?
Your death has us now parted.
And like Dandy Nicholls,
The nails in your coffin are now Hammered.

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2015

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Autobiographical Passion

the smell of the leather
the fizz of the seam
thump into the gloves
its seems like a dream

the smell of the ralgex
the wince in the hit
strain of the scrummage
that I had to quit

the smell of the chlorine
the click of the hub
the ache of the thighs
no more, that's the rub

the smell of old photos
of passions now spent
now just memories
that history has sent

once all were passions
that soared on the wing
some things so central
that made my heart sing

Now while I can't scrummage
Play cricket no more 
nor tri-ing to run,
I can't shut the door

Cos these were my passions
my soul they did touch
they filled me with joy
i miss them so much 

but hope springs eternal
my hip has no pain
my doctor said "yes"
I _may_ run again

while i'll never scrummage
or face one more ball
one passion returned......
To answer the call 


The smell of the sweat
the pounding of feet
on trails and on roads
passion - on repeat

Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2018

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things