An Almost Spiritual Experience

Without question,
Sans doute,
That, there, is the greatest word of poetry,
I have ever written,
In my entire life!

Come, take a look!
This word came to me in a dream,
An almost spiritual experience,
I think you will agree,
An almost spiritual experience,
Like,
Oprah interviewing herself on Oprah Winfrey.

That,
There,
Down here!
Please take a look,
Don't be bashful, don't be shy,
On this authentic piece of high-grade recycled paper -
Is the greatest word of poetry,
I have ever written,
In my entire life!
My. Entire. Life.
And perhaps,
Much more poignantly,
For me, at least -
This is,
The greatest word of poetry,
I will,
Ever,
Write.

At long last,
I've done it!
I almost feel like crying,
But I'm a man,
So I'll try and hold my tears -
My Tears of Toil -
I'll try to hold them back.

So,
What now..?
What do I do,
Now?

Oh,
I suppose this must be it really.
My journey has ended,
Yes, my friends,
This wonderful, crazy, dangerous and perilous,
Journey has ended.
Oh, What a journey!

This Fire Exit Sign

Dear audience,
Please be aware,
That,
In the event of a fire,
This FIRE EXIT sign,
Will not be damaged,
And will not catch alight.
Neither should any of the fire extinguishers.

However,
If you believe that you are likely,
To develop highly flammable,
Or toxic thoughts,
Please leave,
Right now,
As we really don't want your sort here.

If you do catch fire,
And you don't feel like leaving,
Would you please,
At the very least,
Be decent enough,
To collect the nearest fire extinguisher,
And,
Holding the extinguisher close to you,
Like a new-born child,
Stand under this FIRE EXIT sign,
Without making a fuss:
Please rest assured,
The fire extinguisher and FIRE EXIT sign,
Will remain perfectly safe,
Even when your body is engulfed,
With poisonous and toxic smoke and flames.
So try and relax.

Thank you.

A Realistic Aim

In a way,
I suppose that I must,
Must admire them -
The Legions,
Out there,
So able, easily,
To move on, and away,
From one lover to the new-another,
With an eerily elegant nonchalance,
No fleeting backward glance:
No time to seem,
Their last-lost-love-dream:
Such a waste of emotion: to feel forlorn,
Not part of the function and the form.
So when will I grow up then?
A realistic aim: when I'm ninety.

The thing is,
I still contemplate her beauty.
I have no choice, honestly.
I still contemplate her beauty,
Like a confused bull,
Hiding in a field of iridescent red roses,
In full-spring-bloom;
I still contemplate her beauty,
Much like a king penguin gazing,
And gazing and gazing,
At Inuits,
Dancing ecstatically outside their Igloo;
I still contemplate her beauty,
Like a funeral director,
Sleeping in her secret cryogenic chamber,
Beneath a bright full moon;
I still contemplate her beauty,
Like a confused suicide bomber,
Running towards his life-affirming savior,
As his bomb counts down to doom.

She stands there, other-worldly,
A mermaid's beauty, bespoken:
Hot-cold, human-alien, distant-here.
She's confiding in me,
Even though,
We,
Were a long time ago:
This vortex of perfumed memories,
I have fallen into,
Melts and melds Past Love's Mirror of Perspective,
And, no,
We mustn't get back together,
No sir!

And yet, as I say, here we are,
She's confiding, and I'm listening,
Like a choir,
Singing, listens to the congregation's
pin-drop sound,
I listen because I want to,
Because, really, I have no choice..

New Year's

Please don't -
I gave you another chance.
I did!
But now,
We're over.
And there's no going back this time.
Well, Probably..

See, it's eleven days into January -
Eleven!
So I fear,
We now must bow to the inevitable.
Sadly, that means,
Go our separate ways,
Once again!
So, goodbye then.

And how I tried my best to get along with you,
You know I did,
I did try,
As always.
And just like the last time,
I promised - again - to do things your way,
Because - in your blurb - that word - "commitment",
Would soon reap its amazing self-evident reward -
A shining "golden hello",
That would sing for itself,
Without appearing to try.

Strange then,
How you never mention,
The attendant pain.

It's now painfully, painfully obvious,
You don't understand my complex needs;
The resolution I made with you,
With my heart and soul,
I now realise,
Was not meant to be taken on,
Quite so literally.
Consider me no longer at your side,
In simpatico.

We're sadder but wiser,
I'm a lover, not an exerciser,
So,
Farewell then,
Lateral thigh trainer,
/Abdominizer.

Broken-Heart Transfusion

When will the NHS provide broken-heart transfusion?
Are there any volunteers?
Would you consider being a living-donor?

Your heart will be transfused,
To mend a broken one.
Imagine it as broken-heart transplantation.

The nurses afterwards,
Will give you a nice cup of tea,
And a biscuit -
Two if you like -
As a "thank you" for volunteering,
To transfuse your heart with a broken one.

And let's remember,
Some altruistic souls already,
Donate their blood, bone-marrow,
Or even a kidney!
So I'm sure there are benevolent heart-givers -
Healers, really,
Out there, somewhere,
Ready,
For the laying-on of hearts.

But here's a problem:
Often, the ones who would give their heart most gladly,
Are,
The most vulnerable to having their heart injured - even destroyed.

Such openness profiles them,
As the most likely candidates,
To be hurt, used,
Then rejected,
Or otherwise tossed aside,
By careless or cavalier,
Embittered or predatory,
Heart-breakers.
Only truly compatible,
Only with themselves.

Thus,
Many of the broken-hearted,
Will lock their love in cold-storage - fearful,
And hide themselves away,
As their own heart self-rejects,
And tumbles and ricochets the downward spiral, so harmful -
Feeling at home in the twisted forms and patterns,
Of negative familiarity,
Masquerading as self-preservation,
Also known as,
"Better the devil you know."

I wish the serial heart-breakers,
Would witness their damage,
And have a care,
So maybe they could take as much pleasure,
In nail-breaking instead!

Breaking people's nails:
No loving-souls damaged;
Infinitely less pain inflicted;
And,
So much easier to remedy.
After all,
To heal the broken-hearted,
May take more than a lifetime,
To heal the broken-nailed?
A couple of days.

I Love The Madness Of Shakira's Lyrics

I love the madness of Shakira's lyrics,
I love brandy cream on chips,
I love vodka more than wine,
I love writing poems of nine lines,
Yeah,
Yeah,
Yeah,
Yeah,
Yeah.

Nuisance Rain

Does your weather forecaster predict nuisance rain for you?

Have no fear,
Just pour some of this shampoo and conditioner,
Over your dull, lifeless clouds,
And your nuisance rain,
Will have a new healthy bounce and shine.


Love Or Happiness?

Some wish for love,
Others wish for happiness,
A few wish for both.

Love and Happiness?
At the same time?
Now that's just being greedy.

Eighteenth Draft

Well,
This really is it then,
At last - done.
This is The One.

Eighteen,
Eighteen drafts!
Eighteen?
Yes, eighteen,
Eighteen.

You wouldn't think it would you?


Ner-Ner (Part One)

"Jeremy Clarkson - God, he's the wittiest man alive,"
Stated the delightful dad-rock beer-gut,
He went on,
"He tells it how it is,
Never holds back,
Really socks it to those namby-pamby,
Politically correct, numpty Bambi shaggers -

Nanny state do-gooders,

Them environmentalists - bastards,
Mentalists more like, eh,
Yeah," (he agreed with himself),
"He really let's them have it in the neck,
And he's just so hilarious,
So funny as well,
Isn't he?
Isn't he?!"

I nodded.

Ner-Ner (Part 2)

Later,
To atone,
And for some light-relief,
I poured the entire contents,
Of a Tabasco Sauce bottle -
(That new extra-hot one),
Onto my little fellow -
(If you know what I mean).

I can't say that this,
Unorthodox method,
Of pain-relief worked,
But I suppose -
Given the circumstances,
It was worth a try.

Ner-Ner Ner-Ner,
Went the racing ambulance,
"Oh my head -
Both of them",
Went I.

Ner-Ner Ner-Ner

Inter-Faith

God. God.
God? God?
God, like this: God. God. I said God..
..Yes. And I say God. As in The God, pronounced "God". And I too..

God. God.
Ah, I know how difficult this is for you. Oh dear.
We must understand each other. Reach across this dangerous divide.
Yes. Yes.
So, listen: God. God?
Almost. Almost. Almost?
Almost, but not,
.... God God?
Again! God.. You're not listening I said God. Why are you getting angry?
Okay, love is all that we have here,
Let's remember that.

Okay. Again.
God. Oh, you mean, God, not..God? But..
In a word. In a word, hmm. Your opinion.
Let's try this again, agreed? Alright. Agreed.
Two, three, four..God. God.
Look, I was afraid this would happen. You're just afraid.
You're so.. I'm so..what..?
No. I'm sorry. Can we stop this dialogue now. Dialogue!
We seem..
This is why there are wars.. Yes! And isn't that a shame?
Yes, so why wont you.. Why wont I.. what?

Marshmallows

These marshmallows have not been scanned,
They may hold small atomic devices inside,
You look alright to me though,
And seeing as it's Christmastime,
I'll allow you through,
Next time, mind..

Text Message For The January Sales

I want to send this text message to you now,
But I'm waiting for the January sales,
Hopefully then the postage stamps will be cheaper.

I'll post my text message to you first class,
My phone will be in a white padded envelope,
With my name and address on the back of my phone,
So you know where to return your reply.

Massive Apology Live And Direct Outside The Big Gates Of A Really Big House

First,
Above first,
I must apologise to God,
Obviously,
That goes without saying.

And,
My fans,

But,
Firstly, (after God, obviously) my wife -
Especially my beautiful wife.
For,
To her,
My wildest and deepest sorrow goes,
And,
Then,
After God and my wife,
I must prostrate myself earnestly before,
Everyone else who knows me,
Who may now feel truly betrayed and disappointed,
At my appalling and unconscionable behaviour,
Especially -as I said - my beautiful wife.
Why does she put up with this?
She's an Angel,
And I will always stand by her,
Please don't judge her,
For she is my wife..

And after God, and then my astonishing wife,
And then those that know me,
I would also like to gastronomicallyapologise,
In a one word, not two, kind of way,
To,
Everyone else who doesn't know me,
And, ironically,
Now that they know,
That they don't want to know me,
Because of all the lurid headlines,
Written about my shameful life,
This past week,
I hope that they will continue,
To not want to know me,
But for all the right reasons,
And for none of the wrong ones,
If you see what I mean..

May I also express to all of you here today,
My colossal remorse,
At all my intimate infractions,
My romantic transgressions,
Moist, pulsating,
And evil,
As they were,
On reflection,
I realise now,
And - more to the point - you should realise too,
Were nothing more than moments of madness,
All sixteen of them - all moments of madness.
That you must all forget about.
Because?
Because,
No one and nothing compares to the fragrant beauty of my wife,
How could they:
The supermodels, lap dancers and waitresses,
How could they compare,
To my beautiful wife of forest fern fragrances?
My wife - not yours - who is so very beautiful,
And fragrant,
And astonishing,
And timeless,
Like a clock with no hands,
Made in Stonehenge:
Classical and insurmountable.

So what was I thinking:
The supermodels, the lap dancers, the waitresses?
No idea.

My sordid drug habits over this past week,
Have also - quite rightly in my opinion - been exposed,
For the pure, decadent and shameful filth it is -
In particular,
My love of hallucinogenics.
And while it's true,
The trips I had on them,
Were amazing,
And the visions I experienced there,
Opened up my mind,
To new, exciting and magical spheres of unicorn-riding reality,
And gifted me the inspiration,
For what I consider to be my greatest creations -
To be released early next year -
Well, that doesn't make it right.
What was I thinking?
Again,
I've no idea,
No idea..

I would also like to apologise for the tax evasion,

And that fraud thing too..

So,
To sum up,
I think it would be fair to say,
That I've behaved quite badly,
This week,
But I promise you all,
That I plan to make a fresh start,
And I promise,
Sincerely promise,
That I will really behave myself next week,
And be really good.

Honest.

But, I can't lie:
I'm not sure how I'll do,
The week after that,
But I'll do my best..