Poem: Under Pressure

Under pressure from the left,
Needing to do the paperwork of life,
Must be organised, constructive,
Make best use of the time.

Under pressure from the right,
Need to be someone I’m not,
Must be brave, unfearing,
Make the best of what I’ve got.

Under pressure from above,
Needing to meet expectations,
Must be here, there, everywhere,
Make the best of the limitations.

Under pressure from below,
Need to sort myself out,
Must be focussed, concentrating,
Be the best without doubt.

Poem: The Jigsaw Puzzle

Katie and Gary
When I first saw you all those years ago,
Little did I know how things would go,
It’s been nearly 8 years since that day,
And I’m in love; well what can I say!

Over 2 and a half years ago we became one,
Both of our hearts we had fought and won,
The start of something that would last forever,
The beginning of many happy years together.

I think about you every day and every night,
My constant companion, my guiding light,
The jigsaw puzzle that you say we are,
Physically apart, but never mentally far.

These days at university may be trying and hard,
But soon they will be over, our degrees on a card,
Then we go out into the world to experience life,
Get a house, settle down and then make you my wife.

What we have together is special to us, dear,
Who we are means we can’t always be near.
Whatever the distance, whatever we do.
One thing is certain, and that’s I love you.

Poem: Subvert Normality

Subvert normality to its precadescant state.

Attract the Lurkies and the Snarts but not the Trigs.

Subtripulise the eternal frulote, allowing for dasmanars.

Cripulating around the wreltible can provide byginous atrapules.

If you find any decvertazes, put them in the yop, and attach the efrentlip.

Not doing so will allow the creation of hult–maffing narnkysts.

This is not a good idea.

Poem: Sacrifice

To give it all up for the here and now,
Means that a circumstantial sacrifice is made.
Looking forward to what might just be,
Allows the ultimate glory to be claimed.

A giving of one thing precious,
To a cause so worthwhile and just,
A decision based on rumours,
A chance that is taken with lust.

Willing to risk it all for power,
It’s grabbed with both hands in greed,
Not thinking with the grey matter,
Forsaking the simple things of need.

Sleepily, the hour draws near,
When the point of no return arrives.
One must chose between the facts,
And the dreams for which one lives.

Finding it within oneself,
Is a challenge few care to take.
Creating the future for ourselves,
Takes practice for what we make.

A final word of warning,
To those about to embark.
Listen carefully to them all,
And you won’t drift far from the mark.

Poem: Reincarnation Of A Chip Bag

There I am, a flat chip bag,
Sitting with my friends, not yet a rag,
Of the undiscarded greasy chips,
Which they’ve shovelled past their bulbous lips.

At the end I’m consigned to the bin,
My reincarnation about to begin.
I sit in the trash for what must be days,
More rubbish on top of me in increasing layers.

I’m finally thought of, and to be recycled I go.
Along with my peers to a place we all know.
We’re shredded and cut into lots of little bits,
Then we’re split and thrown into the fire–filled pits.

The whole of me is burning,
Around and around I keep turning,
Oo I think I’m beginning to melt,
Now I know how those chips felt!

When I’m no more than ash, and the fire has died,
It’s then that I realise I’ve been totally fried.
No more chances for me in this lifetime.
I’ll just sit here and write another rhyme…