Postman (a poem)

postieI sit and wait for you to come
To the door
I sit and wait for letters to drop
Onto the floor

Some times you’re early
But you’re never late
I suspect you’re quite burly
By how you shove the gate

Giros, postcards
And bills
Letters, death threats
and thrills

Parcels,
Junkmail
Fingers
Squashed snails

Greetings
Cheques
Bleatings
Mail order keks1

None of it
For me.
Because this is not my house
You see
For I am the burglar


1 Keks = trousers

The milkman – A poem

milkman1
There is a man
He is quite cheery
Every morning
When my eyes are bleary

He comes up the path
Whistling a tune
Be it Dark November
July or June

In his hand are bottles
White and creamy
He delivers the milk
While I’m still dreamy

Juice and eggs
He does too
Loaves of bread
Things to chew

He drives with stealth
And boundless care
Laden with bottles
That tinkle and flare (in the sunlight)

Tinkle tinkle
Tinkle tinkle
Tinkle tinkle
Tinkle tinkle

Milko is here!
Hark and waken!
Semi-skimmed, homogenised
Fresh things and bacon

Full cream, half cream
Soya milk too
I bet if you asked him
He’d sell you some glue

Whistling his tune
His bottles a-clinking
With milk on my cereal
I can do some thinking

I love our milkman
Though not in “that” sense
But he brightens my morning
As he walks past the fence

 

Hot days Poem

Hot Days by Stegzy Gnomepants

I know I shouldn’t look
When I’m walking down the street
But when they’re in my face
I can’t just look at feet

They’re out there in vast numbers
Proud and volumous
But I swear I wasn’t looking
Just I thought I saw my bus

Cos if I stumbled blindly
Arms stretched, felt where I go
I’m sure I’d walk into them
And this you’d say I know

“Look where you’re going weirdo”
“You cant walk round like that”
“You stand their with your beard-o”
“I think you are a twat”

And then you’d punch and kick me
And push me to the ground
So I’ll walk with my eyes open
And see them nice and round

Ah thank you.

On a journey from Birmingham to Liverpool: Poetry

 

Crewe

What would I do
When I arrive at Crewe?
Sit and watch as you
Struggle with your bag
And Light up a fag?
What would I do?
At platform two
On the train at Crewe?
I’d probably do nothing

 

IMAG0175Winsford

Winsford ahoy!
Winsford a joy!
Winsford platform 2
Just in from Crewe
In Liverpool I’m due
In an hour.

 

 

Hartford


I’ve never been to Hartford
Until now
I’ve been to Winsford
I’ve been to Crewe
But Hartford
I’ve not been to you.
You’re the next stop though

Poetry Week 2011: Car washing

Car Washing by Stegzy Gnomepants

Fill the bucket
From the tap
Grab the sponge
Give the chamois a rap
Get out a rag
And the shampoo
Cos’ washing the car
Is what we do

Sponge off the dirt
And rub the bumper
Polish the wheel trims
Don’t wet your jumper!
Go get the vacuum
Cleaner from t’shed
Don’t forget the insides
Just like I said

Wipe down the dashboard
Empty the ash tray
Clean out the rubbish
You haven’t thrown away
Get out the wax
And polish the metal
Nip inside
And put on the kettle

I’ll need a cuppa
After all this hard work
Telling you what to do
Just like a jerk

Ah thank you

Poetry Week 2011: Duckbill platypus

The Duckbill Platypus by Stegzy Gnomepants

What a curious sight you are
Weird and out by far
Under the antipodean sky
Oh duckbilled platypi

You’re quite bizarre to look at
If you wore a hat
On your duckbill snout
If you ever went out

With brown fur and ear
You’re quite peculiar and queer
But I bet you’re good to eat
Do you have webbed feet?

Ah thank you

Poetry Week: Prostate Cancer

Prostate Cancer
I’d rather be a dancer
Than have prostate cancer
Which doesn’t sound pleasant
At all
Your bits inside rotting
The doctor just spotting
The discharge and pain
In your smalls
It kills many men yearly
But typically nearly
Few of them went to
The doctors
So mums get your son
To get a finger up their bum
To make sure they’re Fit
And well

Ah thank you.


There were only two three entries in this years poll. Help LJ stay alive by encouraging me to post more regularly and enter your topic here.

For more of my award winning poetry see here

For some prose, see the latest post at The Other Compost

Poetry Week: Tardis

The Tardis

I wish I had a Tardis
So I could travel back
To the distant past and see
The first railway track
I wish I could travel through space
In a box of blue and white
I’d visit Rome and travel home
Or go and fly a kite
I wish I had a time machine
That would take me anywhere
Like Dr Who or HG Wells
Sitting in a chair
I’d travel to a distant point
And look back at the Earth
I’d visit the Yarm or Jollity Farm
Or witness Jesus’ birth
I haven’t got a Tardis
In Leamington I’m based
I travel by car, quite near not far
And dine on garlic paste

Ah thank you.


There were only two entries in this years poll. Help LJ stay alive and enter your topic here

For more of my award winning poetry see here

For some prose, see the latest post at The Other Compost