POEMS NOT PUBLISHED 

A Meercat I Am

I am a small cuddly now-famous mongoose,

I have large eyes and a pointed snout,

Also characterised by my broad head,

Having long legs, I look a wee bit pout.

 

My thin tapering tail,

With a brindled coat pattern;

Of course I a Meercat,

Like to live in the hillside fern.

 

I am normally found in waterless open habitats

I also like little woody vegetation,

My species are widely depicted in television;

I have no significant threats to the populations.

 

Now I’m pissed off for being a stooge;

I’ve been made famous by given thrills,

In stupid adverts for some company,

Do I look happy when I utter “simples”?

 

Tragedy

the rays of the sun

blazing forest fire

dead animals

 

I Thank Life With All My Heart

I thank life with all my heart,

from my mother's womb I had a bad start.

 

The youngest of three;

from tragedies I wasn't free;

at seven I was hit by a car,

I thank all drivers whoever they are.

 

I thank life with all my might,

Everything I touched turned to shite.

 

Whom do I thank for being sexually abused?

The paedophile obviously enjoyed me bruised!

Do I thank my dearest mother for what she did,

Cheating on father while this secret from him I hid?

 

I thank life with all the strength I have got

A miserable life that I never forgot.

 

At fourteen I was already addicted,

All the alcohol was predicted;

My school friends enjoyed life,

While I was in the bar swallowing strife.

 

I thank life with all my gratitude,

All sadness and all misfortunes renewed.

 

I am over sixty, though married with a family I'm grieved,

Never I was beamish, nor happiness perceived;

I thank all the hours, days, weeks, months, and years,

For a life full of fears, tears, smears, and a heart stab with spears.

 

I Thank Life With All My Heart

I thank life with all my heart,

from my mother's womb, I had a bad start.

 

The youngest of three;

from tragedies I wasn't free;

at seven I was hit by a car,

I thank all drivers whomever they are.

 

I thank life with all my might,

Everything I touched turned to shite.

 

Whom do I thank for being sexually abused?

The paedophile obviously enjoyed me bruised!

Do I thank my dearest mother for what she did,

Cheating on father while this secret from him I hid?

 

I thank life with all the strength I have got

A miserable life which I never forgot.

 

At fourteen I was already addicted,

All the alcohol was predicted;

My school friends enjoyed life,

While I was in the bar swallowing strife.

 

I thank life with all my gratitude,

All sadness and all misfortunes renewed.

 

I am over sixty, though married with a family I'm grieved,

Never I was beamish, nor happiness perceived;

I thank all the hours, days, weeks, months and years,

For a life full of fears, tears, smears and a heart stab with spears.

Aljotta

The head of the mullet

as clean as a whistle;

making a traditional dish,

a clear soup without gristle.

 

A soup with a twist,

with some rice to assist.