Politician Chops A Tomato In His Kitchen, Another Politician Sips Tea In His Second Kitchen

Politician chops a tomato
in his kitchen
Now he's chopping a lettuce
in his kitchen
He's saying things at the same time
in his kitchen

He's endowed with multi-skilled sets
Yes he must live in the real world I've guessed
He can chop a tomato
And then a lettuce
And talk at the same time
I've never chopped a lettuce in my life
in my kitchen
I have chopped a tomato though
But it wasn't in my kitchen
It was in someone else's
kitchen
It was a pretty weird situation
That pretty weird kitchen situation is for another poem
And probably one you won't want to read
if  I'm being honest
So I won't be honest..honest.

Well that tells us all we need to know
I'm convinced
I always wondered whether he could chop a tomato
in his kitchen
It's not easy at the best of times
You know that
I know that
Let's not pretend
And he did it all in front of the cameras
in his kitchen
Chopping a lettuce truly earns my respect
And should earn yours too
A man who can chop a lettuce and talk about not wanting to be prime minister for a third term
When he's still in his first
To think that far ahead
in his kitchen
While chopping a tomato
and then a lettuce
in his kitchen
Talking at the same time
in his kitchen
About not wanting to be prime minister for a third term
When he's still serving his first
That truly earns my respect
Like watching a marine punch a gazelle..

And regardless of whoever's kitchen I happen to be in
Were I to be in your kitchen for example
I would feel that same swell of admiration
And I promise I would never chop a tomato
in your kitchen
And definitely not a lettuce
Just in case you're wondering
I don't eat lettuce
And even if I did
I would never chop it in your kitchen
Even if I were to be in a really bad mood..

And here's another politician
This one is in his second kitchen
Conversing with his wife while drinking tea
in his second kitchen
I know that could never be me
I don't have a first wife and I don't have a second kitchen
(and I don't really sip tea for I'm an uncouth gulper
probably my Indian upbringing)
Thus I could never be a democratic socialist leader
Although I'd like to be
Who could believe in me
When I don't have a second kitchen to sip tea in
with a wife which I don't have
Listening attentively to my democratic socialist thoughts
While sipping tea which I wouldn't sip anyway
Being more of an uncouth gulper probably because of my Indian upbringing
in my second kitchen
which I also don't have..

To be that man who can sip tea so nonchalantly
Not even in his first kitchen
But in his second kitchen
The one that he's not used to sipping tea in
That's beyond the call of duty
So beyond you
And me
So who really lives in the real world
Well I think that's plain to see

It's Another Man Thing

Us men -
We write poetry about love,
Because we aren't very good with words.

Job Interview: I Loved It There So Much I Had To Leave

So tell us why you want to work here

I was impressed with your annual report, and attended one of your seminars.
I have no interest in learning tedious office IT packages, climbing the corporate ladder, improving my so-called work skill sets..

I mainly stare out windows and daydream. Your windows are very impressive, different colours..Some reflect and refract the light in interesting ways I bet..

Yes, when we commissioned this office to be built, one of our first requirements was to incorporate different shapes and colours. Windows are one of the most important things, yes? We also discourage corporate skills, they give us a bad reaction. That's good.
 
Now what do you bring in terms of experience?

I've been daydreaming for decades. In my last place I managed a team of daydreamers. They manage themselves now. In fact they are so committed to the cause they daydream for others. We actually secured the UK's largest daydream commission. It's time for me to move on, spread the word. I loved it there so much I had to leave. They want me to spread the word, evangelise daydreaming.

We know, really impressive. What other skills can you bring to us?

I astral project, bend space-time reality, stand around and stare into space, lie down, and occasionally walk around aimlessly listening to music..I'm exceptionally good at that.

That's lovely. The UK is so short now of people with such experience. What would you do to address this shortage?

Apprenticeships. Young people are especially wonderful at daydreaming. They should be encouraged to do it all day long. I'm amazed that at the moment there isn't even one app to help people do nothing but daydream. It's a worry.

We agree. We have a project in development, a quantum daydream app. 

And what is your greatest weakness?

Chocolate.

Wonderful! It's ours too. We have a chocolate emporium on our roof. You can eat chocolate while gazing at the sky, watching the lunar waves ripple and wash over the twinkling lights of Aristarchus.

No kidding! I do that all the time; it's one of my hobbies.

Well, talking of hobbies, what other hobbies do you have that you can bring to the workplace table lying prone while staring at the stars?

Sometimes when I'm half-asleep I've been pointed to the strangest YouTube channels. They help me have lucid dreams. Captain Bill, Crrow777, Streetcap1, 1967Sander..

Captain Bill?

He's a Brazilian guy who channels Mythi, a benign extraterrestrial. It's fabulous.

Are you daydreaming now?

Are you daydreaming now?

Yes. It's a good world we both live in here.

Well, everything seems to be in order. Your references checked and..so welcome on board! 
Let's go to the chocolate emporium and chill. The sky awaits.. 

Things To Do When Your Heart Is Broken

Things to do when your heart is broken

The second part of this poem is entitled Fridge Magnet Fuck Buddy Poem.
So if you want to skip the first part of this poem
for the more salacious, less spiritually uplifting second part, (or should that be fewer?),
Go ahead.
You should feel ashamed though.
It's up to you.

And just so you know,
We'll know.
(It's not just about fighting terrorism.)

You can save yourself a further eleven seconds
not reading this part too.
Though please note this intense and aggressive build up,
Will help you lock on,
Aggregate and calibrate your audience.
I hope you're not on drugs - or things.

Things to do when your heart is broken

Chuck grumpy glamorous people in hedgerows,
Comb the whiskers of a walrus,
Tickle the toes of a baby mole,
Eat blancmange with gusto.
Don't be surprised if you still feel low,
But at least know,
Baby mole will always love you.
Always,
And forever,
Up to the time,
That baby mole grows up and dumps you a "so long..".

Ah yeah, but you know that will happen, so that's okay.


     ****************************

Moving on.
I'm receiving lots of emails from glamorous women,
Imploring me to desire them as their f*ckbuddy.
Their explicit coyness designed to enchant;
They always send their emails begging me to be their effasteriskbuddy,
Directly into my spam folder;
To shy to fire their amorous missives directly into my inbox,
They fantasise the come-hither thrill, testing my detective skill, the cyber silken sheet chase.
James Blunt.

These comely ladies are from all over the world.
They really must support my poetry.
I suppose I can't blame them.

I reply to all:
Dear LusciousLips, HornyBeijingGirl, LatinMinx, etcetera,
Thank you for covertly approaching me to be your,
ahem,
Effasteriskbuddy..
You obviously enjoy my poetry
A Lot.
However,
I have to decline your passion offered.
You see, I'm celibate,
I live in a tree-house,
I only talk to owls,
And my best friend is a crazy witch that lives in the forbidden forest, (just by the motorway).
Cheers anyway!

And you'll be shocked by how many replies I receive, typically:
"Oh don't worry,
Just help me with my visa,
Pretend we're a couple and we want to marry,
And I promise to leave you alone,
I won't force you to be my effasteriskbuddy..".

I just ignore them;
I know they are lying.
At their first opportunity they will taunt me,
Tie me up to the bedposts for the rest of my days.
I'll be a man enslaved!
No way!

They must think I'm stupid.
And think of the poor owls!

Please note -
You can save yourself another two minutes of time,
By not reading any of the above.

Don't believe in conspiracy;
Be in the matrix.
Indeed, be,
Be the matrix. 

I Am The World's First Selfie Poem

I am the world's first selfie poem,
Held aloft by the world's first selfie poem stick,
A look-at-me wordsmith pic,
Here I am fluttering beside Tower Bridge.

So here I pose on the left bank;
Here I'm by the Eiffel Tower,
Here I selfie seductively next to the shower.
Ignore the bidet -
Admire my framed parchment hanging above a plastic flower
pot.

Here I am analysed by a poet I barely know,
Here I repose at a jazz festival amid falling snow;
Fractal flake dew blushes my paper skin,
Ink suggestively oozing, blotting,
Have I been crying or exercising?

Here I am tender and damp,
Here I am sunbathing, drying beneath a lava lamp,
My words florescent and glowing,
Quite becoming, a little knowing.

Do my words look big in this?
Are my right words in the wrong order
a hit or a miss?
Am I a PUA verse,
Or a try-hard blow-hard piece of doggerel, cursed?

Here I'm a selfie poem looking for love,
Not a one-night-stand performance poem only read once,
Then abandoned, carelessly tossed away, orphaned on the street,
Clasped by a refuse collector with his selfie poem collecting stick,
Torn,
Unshared,
To be recycled, reincarnated, cared for, repaired..?

Hidden Meaning

Acrostic 
Poem

 

An Oblong Table, An Oblong Space

this particular table is too big for my lounge
do you have any others?

well we have this one
the problem with this table
if it is a problem
is
it's oblong

why is having an oblong table a problem?

this is an up-and-coming area
people don't like oblong tables here now
it denotes something

oh i like oblong tables
and the table is definitely the right fit for my lounge
i think i'll take it 
thanks
so when can it be delivered?

sorry we no longer deliver
do you have a car?

yes

you can pick it up any time you like

i can't drive

i don't understand
didn't you just say..?

yes but the car was stolen for me

don't worry i won't tell anyone

no the problem is i can't drive
and the man who is taking my driving test for me is still in prison

when will he be released?

in nine months with good behaviour
it was only one bank he raided
and the kidnapping of that politician
was just a misunderstanding

no problem sir
i'll wrap it up for you
and your nominated doppelganger can come and collect your oblong table in your stolen car
once he has passed your test for you

that's great
do you take stolen credit cards?

yes but only because i like this poem

i'm glad you recognise this as a poem
most would say this isn't a poem at all
but a weird comedy sketch

ignore them sir
they are philistines
i recognised this as a poem immediately
no capitalisation no punctuation
the amazing white spaces..

you are a man of good breeding
in fact i stole this credit card from the kind of person
that wouldn't recognise this as a poem

serves them right sir

i'll also leave some glorious white space under this poem
as all great poems have virgin space under them
a huge oblong space

yes sir
it denotes something

•  beginning of oblong space

•  end of oblong space

Granny Farm For Gatsby

And those rare observational gifts
justify your estate agent's fee:
"So,
   This is the kitchen,
     That must be the bathroom..
       Yeah, that dude outside is
   your genuine solar-powered garden gnome..
So, we'll throw the solar gnome in gratis..
[Smiley face]
Delightful..
AspecttoSaturncrecheleaguetables
                Upcomingareagenuinelampposts
                           Rareopportunitybargainbuyorlet
                                     AB1respectableneighbourhoodpets
                                                   DIYgardencentregastropubdentist..
                                                             So made your mind up yet?
                                                                        Floordoorceilingconifersofthoroughbredbreeding..

                                                So,
you've had my five minutes,
So,
please give me my fee,
So,
thank you goodbye,
Exit stage left me"
So,
There you now are -
So deep inside the mortgagee kill zone;
You've dished up your bank a wage slave-loving home.
Your soul gravy shall drizzle commuter zone decades,
Tumbleweed eyes glaze,
Your plaintive rockstar days sand-blasted away,
dinnerware-damned and betrayed.
A lobster on simmer-to-boil-to-cold,
So here's your keys,
And here's a sweet strychnine flavour of rope,
And how about a glass of champagne to soothe your soul's mini-stroke?

Just think, it'll all be paid for - in forty-four years,
And then it's the granny farm for Gatsby,
If
  you're
still
here.

What a bargain - Fear.
Wherever you are in the universe, you're here.
You're flipping fish-headed coins beneath the stairway to starfish.
You're a lifer, you're a hamster -
A hamster stunned on the careering karmic wheel dealing 6 billion other lap-dancing tap dancers..

Watchful -
The Great Sardines are blaring above the broiling Tiggers of Spam.
I'm mixing my metaphors as fast as I can;
I understand.

Ison floored into the sun.
Will Planet X be closer still on its fun run?
So cheer up,
You're one of the lucky ones:
Your solar-powered garden gnome will help you take command,
For this castle of sand is your castle of sand.
So if you're happy and you don't know it,
Clap one hand.

The Horrifying Zen Of Jimmy Savile

Now then
 now then
now then now
then now
now now nowthen then then

Interview With The Commander Of A Western Suicide Bomber

We gave thanks
He was blessed from above,
After all, he died doing something he loved..

He flew in, just like they did:
But they invaded, he defended.
They cluster bomb, we behead.
He was good, he was disciplined;
He was no tearaway, he was a good kid.
He was funny, loved his playstation he did.
Oh, what was his name again..? 
You know, it was two weeks' ago,
And as you know
a lot has happened since then..

I Had To Write This Poem

I had to write this poem 
because I thought of this one great line,
What do you think -
will it stand the test of time?

Well, I had to write it down
to deter other poets stealing this idea;
You know lines are clutched from the atmosphere,
Or they fall like apples, spill over like beer.

I had to write this poem,
Because I thought of this one great line;
Like a beat messiah,
My acid milk turns to wine.

And now I feel fine, and your pleasure
in my one sparkling line.
I had to write this poem,
Hidden in this gem of a line.

Official Merchandise (Shut Up And Sing)

The only thing we learn from history:
We rarely learn from history;
The nihilists know a thing or two;
The hereditary privilege we deserve?

So face the morphing lineage,
Will the next generation be so different?
Carnivalising ancient lore, truth to power.
More graves, more public inquiries, more sellophane towers.

The Power learns their history:
Feed the believers a simulacrum of history:
Fine myths, folklore, official documentaries,
And a thank goodness we have our culture preserved.

So musical chairs plays you again,
Tuned to reflect the diffident muse-godheads.
Inside numbness outside sound:
The rolling parades;
The phoned-in outlines of revised promises of greatness.

And yet more memorials to more sacrifices.
And fresh blood trades shiny medals, praise and prizes.
And the kings and the queens and the presidents salute the fallen.
And the minute of silence silenced by an anthem.
And some trapped doves released escape a now Kitch Athens.

And the lead marionettes tightened heartstrings snap in the aisles;
And the anointed default-heroes' kids urged to shut up and sing:
It's the least we can do,
What's the hell is wrong with you?
Can't you at least join in?
They died for you, for what we must believe in.

So the only thing we learn from history:
Keep your blessed eyes on your crown,
But please move on, you won't fall down;
Chant reflexively item-listing hymns:
Tradition, Family, God, Country, Freedom, Loyalty, Liberty.
And Sacrifice, make some noise!
This new history has some history.