Wednesday, 23 February 2011

You Can't Spell 'Audience' Without 'U'

A Lipogram

Of all the gigs I play every year,
The one I like best is now and right here.
It's not for the poems, or all of the comedy,
It's not what I said: it's the people in front of me.
If they hadn't come for my poems and jokes,
I'd be like Robin Hood with no Merry Blokes:
No-one beside him to help him to loose
The arrows he's made from ash and from goose.
A preacher exhorting to no congregation
Is wasting his passion for no consolation.
There's no real joy in scoring at Wembley
If there's no fans, friends, crowd, or assembly,
The wittiest line, if there's no-one to hear,
Is a solo party, devoid of all beer,
Like talking to someone telepathic,
So all that's said is one-way traffic,
A dialog box (with American spelling)
Where all conversation's hardly compelling:
        A window has crashed again: Click OK
        A window has crashed again: Click OK
        A window has crashed again: GO AWAY.

So thanks for coming, thanks for listening,
Thanks for leaving my ego glistening.
Words make my arrows, the best I can do,
Yet the deadliest longbows are all made of yew.

Wednesday, 9 February 2011


To make things hard for myself, I decided to impose two restrictions on this one - only using the vowel 'E', and sticking to the Haiku format. Thanks to Ali for providing one word and the names of the protagonists.

Scene: TV. Settee.
We see Trev, beset by stress.
He needs beer, needs weed.

Jenny eschews weed.
She needs TV. Endlessly.
Glee. Dry red. Perfect.

Trev rejects TV.
Even the BBC News
Repels Trev's peeved eye.

Jen eyes the TV,
Tends the stew, blends the jelly -
Jenny feeds Trev well.

Trev, dry, dejected,
Key green reserves depleted,
Necks the sleek green Becks.

Yet, he frets: Where's Drew?
Drew's key. Drew vends sweet weed, see?
He never fleeces.

Trev's eyes express nerves.
Even Jenny's well perplexed -
Her Trev's very vexed.

Enter Drew. Trev weeps.
Less testy, breezy even,
He renders the fee.

Drew sells the henry,
Then he shrewdly egresses -
He's needed elsewhere.

Even-keeled, Trev lets
Jenny, ever the server,
Help Trev perfect rest.

She feeds Trev the weed.
Pesky stress levels recede
Serene Lethe seen.

Elves, sweet elves he sees,
Breezy trees teem, green-sheened,
The sphere seems serene.

Nepenthe he seeks -
Jen's gentle neck nestles cheek -
Then:  Shhh! Trev, meet sleep.

Jen pets Trev's tresses,
Wryly, even tenderly,
Then wrecks the jelly.