Category: Community Poem Archive

Stick it in the fuck it bucket

We’re 8 people sat on a boat,
human connection is rare and very needed today, I received it
here.
Alarmingly dysfunctional,
I can only just hold conversations with people that are as
socially inept as I am.
Henry sucky so good,
I’m a psychoactive toad baby, lick me all over and see infinity.
Elizabeth whiskers the tuxedo cat,
but Pablo stole the show-
If all the world’s a stage what did they build this stage for?
Tiny terrapin laughs at the pink moon.
Cortisol and hormones flood my mind, intoxicating blend of work
and age and busy brain, exploding in productivity-
5-7-5 right?
Was that enough syllables?
Fuck it, never mind.
Stick it in the fuck it bucket!
Ho you can court me in my pantoum.
My humps, my humps, my humpy humpy humps,
check it out.
I like flowers
they look cool.
Sick sleazy silk socks eat;
but the other way around.
I eat black holes for breakfast,
sausage a plenty,
discarded apple core,
a porridge-thick sickly sticking-
For the love of cider!
There’s always free cheddar in the mousetrap – Tom waits.
Satellite of Love
No trigger warnings for you
you only bring joy.

You know it’s bad when you consider turning to religion…

And now I will start a new, fresh poem! This one is called:

As it turns out, defenestrating a politician is less impressive
when their office is on the ground floor

Two tines of a plastic fork buried in the ground like some long in the root horse tooth

So what should we have for dinner tonight? ……. Dunno! What are you feeling? ….. Sigh.
A daily struggle we have to daily decide. Guess we’re having nothing then.
Oh, gimme a J20. Make it two please

I write my name on the gravy train as
stars cascade into crushing crescendos
I always tell the stars but I’m silent on you
I’ve spent far too long in the fast lane, feeling all the bumps

Next door the accountants are saying: ‘people who speak of their emotions feel nothing’
and weeping silently into their spreadsheets

Gays slay the day away
Be your own best mate!
This is a very good night honestly
Dream if you wanna go vaster

Slightly damp smelling but passionate, floating but not going anywhere
Help! I’ve turned into a sentient boat. This isn’t part of the poem!
Help I’m possessing the speaker of this poem! I’m so wet! I’m a boat!
Help! I’ve realised how terrifying it is to be in the water

What is time but a cold slime on the sea Cow Girl!

I want to make a dress out of the razzle-dazzle spaghetti behind me
Hair greasy, shines like the tinsel behind me
The glitter screen is losing strands amidst the ear-splitting whoops

It is very important to use the twisty thing at the bottom to adjust the mic stand
Touch it. Touch the mic
Flex like
Flex like Alex
He struggles to lift his weights. But I’ve got hubris to keep me in shape
A deep squat, deeper still becomes a sit

What if these clothes are my flesh and I have just broken the no-nudity rule?

I’ve been sat behind this guy for hours now, wonder what his name is?

Brush the air with words and make some rain
only to spiral down like sycamore seeds
over dosing on angst – therapy poetry! With a fuck or two
you –  strangled by shouts
swap one self for another
who? Mike, he said it

one day will be the last time you
see yourself in the mirror
my own one man show
do not adjust the mike it’s fucked
he sipped and sipped, gently, satisfied
The world is a magnificent place for those who give it the time of day
Aish can only adjust the mic stand
yeah yeah yeah  that’s trigonometry done

Go-Pro vertigo as commotion scroll through Dante’s Inferno
is it possible to get seasick on a moored boat?
Back of the van! I have a dirty finger
you regurgitate your animal like a tapeworm
pulling it between your teeth
more women will have the guts, their vibrations will roar

(shouted) lettuce, lettuce, lettuce

we really need to make a list
shoe news, new shoes!
tip tappity tap
I’m swimming in my own lane

The wind blew wild as the cat and the dog chased
the mouse through the woods –  while the tree swayed
no one seemed to notice the man on the bike, dressed as a Zebra

I can’t believe another lady took a shit on the floor at 9.30 am

Overcaffeinated Princess Leia chats shit backstage
while waiting for her cue at the village panto

When Darth Vader was the dame
I never did master the art of the gag reflex
on his “microphone of love” –
he’d say, “as anyone seen my “Barbie?”
Even my Grandma does burpees.
Oh, she’s like fish with a coral allergy!

My cat makes an excellent meringue
with her moles! Deep underground, coming up
when they hear a sound, from all around.

Last week, kneeling on the cocktail bar
with my fingers down my throat, I thought,
how darling, how Y2K, how B-Lister in a black dress
and Giotto Turbo Maxi Bob was in it saying
“I wanna stick it up your jacksy in a minute!”
and “All I need is another man to break the law!”

I was hoping to be inspired in the toilet.
I wandered lonely as a cloud savouring
memories of mammaries rarely found.
Summer’s earth doth seldom claim the frigid
mirth of my worn name…
It’s like they took the embodiment of literature
and made it take a piss behind the lonely
fucking curtain. Shit! It’s time.
Somebody got the shouty man.

Jasmine

In all these falling scraps of paper,
what words can we manage to catch?
A girl from Ecuador blowing cigarette
smoke into her best friend’s tear-gassed eyes.
Wild jasmine: approximate burning time
25 hours. A cormorant alights the ship,
confused by the pretty lights.
The dead cling to my skin like rain-sodden silk.
Leo’s full moon, new transit for Pluto.
Bright burn with realisations – I pray it’s done
How was it? she asks
and the stars shuddered as one.

Everyone say glove
I really dropped the ball today – wonder if anyone will notice
I am flippantly tossing tables as the barman pours another whiskey shot – sing to me
Do you like guacamole? I am scaling furniture when the beds break
I’m carbon dating my journals
Mr Blobby, dead at 53
Paul’s being a poopy poop
Mouldy bananas
Bodies of water
Paul loves wrestling
Not very relatable is it
My glasses are a shield and I can’t take them off
After sixteen years of appropriate onstage attire
the Satellite team finally stopped mentioning the nudity rule
A rainbow flag runs up the stairs

*******************************

Cold nights drawing in reflected in dark waters
We are finger bitten
Afloat in a sea of memories
I am out of words. I have scraped the jar clean,
licked the lid, and sit here full and silent.

Community poem November 2023

Darkness on the quay

Some mornings your room is a rain cloud
My old boots are letting the puddles in
The pillow cradles my skull and forms a crucible for my dreams
Are we nearly dead yet?
Darkness on the quay
Ghost-gulls fly and lights are reflected in the water
The pre-loved bin bags of Halloween rustle ominously in the gloaming
First time jitters once again
Her dress was made of music
Sparkling lights water my eyes
The boat turned poets into angels with bright halos
Inspiration, community, friendships, and smiles. All afloat on this boat.

Out of context seagulls (a one-way conversation with Shrek)

SHREK! You crushed the last piece of my shattered heart.
Little did you know you lost a strong girl.
I’d pay £1,200 for a new mic stand
or an exorcist
and I still think contactless is magic.
SHREK! There’s an out-of-context seagull troubling the roof of an urban semi.
My cat is awesome. Speak your truth, Eric!
The fun is in the egg TOMATOES.
MIC DROP

There once was a man from Nantucket
Who often thought well then (……………NO, NO I’m not going there!)

Peace to all here tonight
The whole world is in our hands
Newspapers all tell us the Earth is dying, but really its hoping and sighing.
Light-hearted skipping souls
This paper is sodden as is my heart
Whilst cultivating exclusively coloured socks just for you.

The Zebra’s tonsils swung like a metronome click-clacking-
And, what’s more, the gull that shat on my head, on the way to the show, did not stop me from
reading a poem.
We bade farewell, with a bourgeois bon soir- I blew a kiss, it missed!

Poets who can’t count also seem to have no sense of proportion as 2 tiny poems GROW…… and require lengthy introductions!!!

One Day I will write something clever, but until then……
carry on, there is plenty of time.
Thankfully in the meantime, I like beans, purple edibles
and Blue Duck eggs!

I used to be indecisive but……..
now I’m not so sure
It’s everything and nothing-
I know nothing and that’s something ha ha.

Sorry about the curtain
with me draped head to toe in full length lammentta
the dandelion forgot the time, knowing
Unity in the community, presents an opportunity.

On waking I found I’d lost my identity
And yet…..we thrust onward….
Even the birds are ambivalent as they carve their way through air
made solid with industrial smoke and smell.

Colin is dead, with his fuzzy camel face.
So sad…….., but I am valued, I am love.
You ask if I’m emotional?
Fuck yeah!

We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
The hammer.

We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
Cascades of silver glitter, 
Shimmering ghosts.

We rummaged in the toolbox but only discovered
My anatomy;
It smells of curry
It wasn’t very nice
But the dog ate it anyways. 

We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
Ferry boat Margaret
Swinging low with rats,
Boats, 
And rainbow oil. 

We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
A city in levels 
Like a Victoria spongecake. 

Love finds itself,
Rummaged in the toolbox,
Walking through the city’s dark history
Everything is black and white 
Except in the dead of night. 

We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
The last poem
Of the last dug dazzled. 
We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
Purple pen pushes words from my mind. 

We rummaged in the toolbox but only found
Barbados to Bristol and back. 
Reimagined in dance & verse
Choreo poetry curiosity, hoping
To bring on the flow in me. 

Speak your own truth. Love me
So don’t scare me of all these pomp & circumstales.