Humorous
Ocular jewellery.
This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop at Kings Cross Library, Halifax.
Published on Igniting the Spark Facebook page 25/05/24
When I go to Beihai, I am assumed to be an alien by the locals,
A bilinear man in Gunaxi province who can afford to hold
A wooden bar with two black cormorants across my shoulders. It
Costs just 10 Yeon for locals, but
If there is a man whose eyes appear like ocular jewellery
As cormorants do the price goes up to just 40 Yeon a time,
And if you won’t shout at the creepy street sellers - mù guā!*
That wooden bar will be on your shoulders with a wide-brimmed hat
On your head before you even blink your ocular jewellery eye.
They are flexible on payments. WeChat payments are
Accepted if you do not have cash.
Overall you rather sit in your five star hotel room
Instead of shopping
At local SUPER, SUPER cheap underground supermarkets
OR walk out with your eyes shut
If you don't want to be charged three times more than your dream-come-true item costs.
Local women will melt staring with their earthy brown eyes
At European, American or English men
And
Might try to drag them into their neatly prepared nests to breed another
Ocular jewellery-looking human being.
Anyone who has ocular jewellery-looking eyes in China
Will see it as a burden instead of God’s gift because locals will see them as
A child of James Goodfellow
One big bloody automatic teller machine.
*mù guā! translated from Chinese language means behaviour well, keep away
25/05/24
Butterfly
This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop at Kings Cross Library, Halifax.
Published on Facebook pages – Facebook Poetry Society, Igniting The Spark, Ivo Bierands, On My Mind, Poetry Prompts, Poetry UK and The Love of Poetry on 14/09/24.
We might think that there is no chance to
Infuse two words together that have no connection at all
If we think about them initially.
They have different meanings and different functions
Apart they can function as food or food ingredients.
Butter tends to be cooked or eaten with sandwiches,
I enjoy eating it with cheese
It can be dangerous if it has been smeared on the floor with a purpose
To make it shine.
On the other hand – flies have the function of annoying people
At least the most of them
And can end their lives fast with almost no pain under daily newspapers like The Sun,
Daily Mirror
Or
The Guardian that does not guard them at all
Though, they can be great snacks for birds like pigeons,
If they are not prioritising painting randomly things in their
Glorious masterminded snow white purge
And repaint the same place if they are accurate enough.
It is amazing if we think about what happens
If we link the word butter and fly together.
Initially, we might think it is cheese,
But
It’s not.
The outcome is – a butterfly, one of the most amazing wonders
Nature as an artist has created in different sizes and
Painted them in endless colours.
01/06/24
Burgundy green beauty
Published on Facebook pages – Facebook Poetry Society, Igniting The Spark, Ivo Bierands, On My Mind, Poetry Prompts, Poetry UK and The Love of Poetry on 22/09/24.
It was read at Serendipity 6th Birthday celebrations at Cloggs Cafe in Dewsbury, England on 18/10/14.
Wŭ Yén Yén found it in her back garden,
It was as green as the darkest Chinese forests,
Thoughtful as the wisest men
Before making their lifetime decisions,
Its eyes black and sparkling searching for freedom,
Still alive and hopeful.
Sadly, it has no name.
Now it sleeps its endless noon sleep
In a small bright green plastic container
With a white plastic handle.
There is nothing else to do.
I remember
My mum told me six years ago,
Her turtle went missing,
It might be the same in the ever bright green container,
It might taken six years for it to get here.
I heard that turtles has no teeth,
I assume, if it’s true,
This turtle might be a fan of Cliff Richard,
And if it would have enough money
It would stand in the first row of his gigs,
Waiting for his Christmas song
So it can sing it along with him
The way it can.
22.06.24
***
This poem is written based on Pablo Tisch's comment about how to use That in my poem I don’t know whether Blue and the combination of my experience on 27.09.24 going to a hospital by car.
I strive not using the word "that", unless absolutely necessary because it's one of those overly used words, lacking emotion or action.
Published on Facebook pages – Facebook Poetry Society, Igniting The Spark, Ivo Bierands, On My Mind, Poetry UK and The Love of Poetry on 06/10/24.
He thinks that he’s Lewis Hamilton
In short LH
Driving sky concrete coloured Seat Leon
With number plate 2016
Imagining driving a Range Rover
Brand new from a shop shelf on Canal Road
Acting like THAT
While other drivers would pick this character carefully
Unless it is absolutely necessary,
Because THAT is lacking emotions or,
I would like to say the driver’s well behavioural actions.
LH drives listening to loud music probably gone deaf already
Left with that dark caramel, sparkling eyes
Popping out of his eyeball holes
And
His two hands cramped into a steering wheel,
But his brains - left sitting in the rain on the wet tarmac in horror
On Hollingwood Lane
Blown out through the smoke painted exhaust
While their owner was going hell for leather over humps and bumps
Now living in its nightmares and screaming for free psychology sessions
From NHS to repair damaged cells by their owner who bolted away.
LH’s face is emotionless
When he takes me over suddenly without warning
In heavy traffic on Clayton Road
Putting other traffic members in possible danger,
Turning left on a junction without indicating
Racing down the Cemetery Road
Suddenly sharp breaking
Because there is a bloody idiot in front of him
Who drives as if to their future apartments
Living their very last cool lifetime moment on the earth
Before free-falling into pitch black bed-sleep
No-sit room.
And suddenly LH is gone
Probably to the hell
Where the devil is waiting for him for dinner
To eat
Acting like THAT too.
01/10/24
***
Published on Facebook pages - Absolutely Yours - Poetry, Lyrics & Music, 'Art, Literacy, Poetry', Beautiful Poems & Quotes, Dzeja No Sirds, Facebook Poetry Society, Global Poet & poetry, Igniting The Spark, Invisible Poets, Ivo Bierands, Life through poetry & writing, On My Mind, Poems & Poetry, Poetry Autopsy, Poetry lover, Poetry Prompts, Poetry UK, Poetry Universe, Poetry world, The Love of Poetry, The Poetry Club, The Poetry Corner Official, The hands On Poem Writers on 18/11/24.
My neighbour had a funeral ceremony
A few doors down the road
On that warm November day,
Black suits,
Black cars,
Eleven o’clock night
Black eyes,
The next morning
In his silent front yard
Crashed Famous Goose whiskey bottles
Two different colour women's high-heel shoes
Hanging as an evidence
Of raving sadness
A day before.
15/11/24