The Judgement of Paris

By 'Paris', I mean the colleague, not the city. Or the Trojan bloke played so woefully by that Bloom feller in the movie.

In Ancient Greece, with its Golden Fleece,
And its tales of brave Odysseus,
They celebrated conquests with physical contests
Like throwing a hammer or discus.
When they won a battle, they'd slaughter the cattle,
And sacrifice blood from their veins,
Then run round in circles, jumping over hurdles,
And so began Olympic Games.

Now they are tradition more than superstition,
They run every four years or so;
And if a politician says we want this competition,
Then we all have to cough up the dough.
But the hundred metre dash is a fucking waste of cash -
Just one of many frivolous expenses.
And why's it us that pays for events that last three days
And solely involve horses and fences?

In the days of old, it wasn't about gold -
Friendly competition was enough.
Plus the Ancient Greeks used to show off their physiques
By doing the whole thing in the buff.
So if we're spending money, let's make the whole thing funny,
Remembering the spirit of the Games,
And sit inside the stadia, watching genitalia,
Especially the ladies' beach volleyball.

Dirty Protest

Anyone who's ever shared a house will understand.

"If it's yellow, let it mellow,"
My housemate quipped today,
"If it's brown, flush it down - 
That's always been the way!"

"Do you think your piss don't stink?"
I remonstrated thus:
"Don't use rhymes to justify crimes,
And learn to use the fucking flush." 

Ten Speed Poems: #10

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Ancient Verbosity (for Colo)

Long ago, when time was young,
An epoch, an era, an age,
Words would grow at fearsome rate,
And synonyms were all the rage,
Savage mobs of lexemes would
Roam free, unfettered, uncaged.

They'd frolic, gambol, gad about,
And lark in meadows gay;
They'd stalk, and hunt, and track, and trail,
Their blithe, unsuspecting prey;
Until they were coralled, kept, and compiled,
In a book by Mr Roget.

And nowadays, in present time,
Of words there is no dearth,
And poets choose and pick their terms,
To show their skill and worth,
They fondly, wistfully, recall
When Thesauruses ruled the Earth.

 

Ten Speed Poems: #9

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Black Gold - Two Sugars (for Smalls Murray)

Black as darkest hell, but sweet like the sun,
With swirls like the clouds and steam like a sauna,
Perky like a puppy, a pick-me-up bar none,
Coffee: noble king of Guatemalan fauna.* 
Perfect with a cigarette, first thing in the morn,
It gets you through the day when you need a little crutch,
But addiction is an awful thing - I'm really rather torn:
The problem with coffee is I like it too much.

* it was only two hours later that I realised I meant 'flora', but by then it was too late to change it. Also, it wouldn't rhyme, now would it?

Ten Speed Poems: #8

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Walking Off Mountains High (for Mountain Girl)

High up in the Andes
The Ayahuasca grows
Sacred shaman vine
Straining towards a sky
Pierced by peak upon peak

Higher and higher I climb
Clutching the sinuous branches
Wrapping them tight around my fist

Gasping breathing hard in the sparse air
Inhaling the heady fragrance of the vines all around me
The sweet smoke makes my head spin
As I burst through to the balding sunlit summit

Feeling that with every step upwards
I might wander off into the sky
And never come down

Which in retrospect
Is not a wholly unpleasant prospect
 

Ten Speed Poems: #7

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Louis' Plea (for Louis, his mum, and his gran)

Whenever I'm sad, whenever I'm lonely,
I love to munch on pizza with loads of pepperoni.
No wimpy stonebaked crust for me - I like 'em nice and thick,
With lots of herbs and mozarella: lovely, just the trick!
I'm never really happy 'less I'm munching on a slice,
And if I don't get my pizza, I tend to be less nice.
So grant me this request, mother dear, I pray:
Feed me deep crust pizza, every single day!
 

Ten Speed Poems: #6

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Screen Printing (for the girls doing the Screen Printing, natch)

In ancient China, where the walls were great,
The Emperor sat bored upon his throne of state.
He eyed his surroundings, all dull and drab,
And wished that he could make his palace much more fab:
"I need a way to liven up these silken threads I wear!
I need some colour in my life, my joy I need to share!"
He took some ink and took some mesh, thinking "This is easy!"
(Though it took a little time to invent to cunning Squeegee)  
He toiled all day, experimenting, trying different tacks,
Until he had a T-shirt, reading FRANKIE SAYS RELAX. 

Ten Speed Poems: #5

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Spring (for a girl whose name I didn't ask)

Somewhere on the M$ outside Swindon
There's a roadside bank
Of daffodils.
Every March, on the way to visit my grandmother,
We'd drive past these sun-filled trumpets
And think of Wordsworth.
As the morning rose, and the season swelled
With warmth, we read with joy the words
Spelt out by the sparkling blooms:
SPRING IS SPRUNG 

Ten Speed Poems: #4

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

The Goat Grave (for Julie)

White as snow and smooth as silk,
Winifred the Goat was famed for her milk.
She gambolled in the garden and made many friends
Who, tragically, were heartbroken when Winnie met her end. 
Stiff as wooden lats went Winnie when she died,
So when it came to coffins, Winnie wouldn't fit inside.
"Take a JCB, and dig yourelves a pit,"
Said the man from the Council, helping not a bit.
So Winnie's final resting place - a hole in the ground -
Is the only known Goat Grave for miles and miles around.

Ten Speed Poems: #3

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Confusion (for Steph)

Iceland isn't icy; Greenland isn't green;
A sailor on the ocean knows it's not Pacific;
Turkey has no turkeys; New Zealand's hardly new - 
I really think cartographers could be a little more specific. 

Ten Speed Poems: #2

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Celebrity Chefs (for Robbie)

Famed for his felafels and feted for his flans
Kudos in the kitchen and stardom on the screen
Guardian of garnishing and champion of cuisine
The peerless prince of TV food surveys his pots and pans

His fearful minions bustle thru the kitchen doors that swing
Past cameramen with microphones who trail their tyrant boss
With little trays of canapes at fifty quid a toss
While our hero swears and shouts at them and scoffs his Burger King

Ten Speed Poems: #1

Poems written in 10 minutes or less for The Poetry Takeaway.

Karen (for Jeff)

Her maiden name was Wood,

And summers (when she was good),

Her dad would take her strolling

Through the Welsh valleys rolling.

The apple of his eye,

Impatient for July,

And those stolen carefree weeks

In the land of slate and leeks.

Now Karen is a mother,

And grandad has another

Young girl to hold his hand

As he walks St David's land.

      Some spoil their kids with chocolate,

      Some with strings of pearls,

      But Jeff's idea of heaven is

      Welsh walking with his girls.