Mark Totterdell: Yet Another Bloody Bird Poem
Blackbird is Bach, Baroque,
pure notes that sweetly flow,
slides, trills and ornaments,
flash-fast or stately-slow,
swoops to bass clarinet,
flutters to piccolo.
Blackbird is Bach, Baroque.
Great Tit is Status Quo.
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Bruce McGuffin: Party Animal
The dog, with dog-tag's joyous jingle,
Sniffs about to greet and mingle,
Work the room with Christmas cheer
As guests bend down to scratch an ear,
Until she makes a sudden swerve
To scoop a freshly dropped hors d'oeuvre.
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Glo Curl: Saved
I baked a cake with skill and care
And left the thing I don't know where,
But then I heard a pitter-patter
As in Meg trotted looking fatter.
I looked at her and it was clear
The dog I loved and held so dear
Had sacrificed her figure's line
And stuffed herself to rescue mine.
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Joan M. Forde: Left v Right
Left-handed in a right handed world . . .
Shorthand class – seek out appropriate desk.
Dinner table – sit at end of table
Smile when someone says
That was a left-handed compliment.
Look to the left sitting at the bar
To see if the right one comes along.
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Julia Griffin: Fundamentals
What is it allows us to dominate?
O why do we have such an iffy sense
Of what in the sapient hominate
Permits our generic magnificence?
If praisers were really more duteous,
They’d not try to axiom-maxim us,
But offer salutes to the beauteous, cuteous,
Bootyous Gluteus Maximus!
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Ian Stuart: Make room!
Like I said to the stowaway
We threw out of the capsule
(It was cramped with even
the three of us there)
“There ain’t much room
but there’s plenty of space !”
He laughed
all the way to the sun.
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Elizabeth Horrocks: The Costume Ball
The Classical Club set a date
To be marked by a Grand Costume Ball
Where the members would seek to create
Ancient garments impressive to all
On the night, Rosie outshone the rest
And arrived looking stunning, if late,
As Clotho, half-naked, half-dressed.
She was really a most tempting fate.
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Chris O’Carroll: Y or K
Yeats or Keats,
Who whom beats,
Higher rates,
Keats or Yeats?
Are debates
Keats v. Yeats
Wastes of time
Like this rhyme?
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Nell Prince: Bad News Funding Blues
No gold for me,
no gold to do a PhD.
What will I do?
I’m blue as blue can be.
No gold for me,
but whiskey says:
bad news is just philosophy.
And whiskey, friends,
is gold as gold can be.
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Anna Nolan: Merry Christmas!
I’ve a secret that’s quite murky:
I have never stuffed a turkey.
Christmas pudding and mince pies?
That’s the stuff one simply buys.
Stress-free season, there’s no doubt
Means quite frankly, eating out.
Knowing we will have a ball;
Merry Christmas, one and all!
