Missing
Where is she? Look for her!
Why aren’t you looking for her?
Her bedroom is how she left it
though a crime scene, every millimetre.
Someone knows something.
People don’t just vanish into thin air.
Runaways might. But homebods don’t.
Everybody’s going spare.
Let’s look at it this way.
Her face is on every street.
It only takes a second to recognise her.
Have you seen her? Can we meet?
Showers splatter unfinished sentences
down from hot air word clouds
to a thunderous monotonous boom.
Nothing gets better or worse
as people float
hanging from stringless balloons.
City ring roads go round in vicious circles
and mayhem motorists get nowhere.
Ring a ring a roses school children sing incessantly on repeat
and no one ages beyond the moment the traffic jam stuck them there.
Job applications get sent back automatically
as last in any queue are in front of the first.
Forever ranting rebels and frozen screen visionaries
pin their hopes on a monstrous effigy
that promises change until it inevitably bursts.
Everything to want is at the top of a spiral staircase.
The railings go on and on
and walls have the same font graffiti ‘You’ll get there!’
A metronome clicks out the race to the top
but there’s no winners or losers, to be fair
I’m not the type to make a scene now maybe
but little things might make me go just crazy.
I keep myself to myself.
It’s good for my health
but may well like just kill me.
The funny thing is that I joke about it
but something tells me that my smile’s just carpet.
I have no need to impress
just need to be best
in my bullet proof vest.
Got a desire to be a real life swapper
to swap my keys in one big bang instant popper.
Get away from it all.
Greener grass in my holiday hall
and top every top with a topper.
If God exists there’s a devil inside maybe maybe
and little things may make big things go quite hazy.
The world is as it is.
It’s got quite a fizz
but clicking and pressing buttons is making it lazy.
My blog ‘A Pretty Kettle of Poetry’ with my illustrations still gets on other blogs and is always a pleasure to realise that my blog has its admirers.
Since 2019 on top 100 poetry blogs on https://blog.feedspot.com/poetry_blogs/
plus https://blogging.org/top-poetry-blogs/ and https://eztoolset.com/top-blogs/110-top-poetry-blogs-websites-to-follow-in-2020/
and a great mention – ‘The best poems served through this poetry blog will leave you amazed and awe-struck ‘ here on https://thebrandboy.com/wonderful-poetry-blog-names/
Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to look at and read any of my poems!
You won’t believe this
but it’s true.
It’s a short journey to bliss.
You can get it like new.
Give it a chance.
Live out your dreams.
It’s a short journey to bliss.
It’s all what it seems.
You’ve got what it takes.
It’s your thing.
It’s a short journey to bliss
when you’re a big deal darling.
What was I saying?
oh yeah that reminds me.
It’s on the tip of my tongue.
You’ve been great to see me!
I’ll get it in a minute.
No, don’t give me any clues! It’s easy!
I can’t believe I can’t remember
Whatever happened to thingy?
Ok I give up.
Oh yes. Of course. Silly me!
Yes, I know, it’s been quite a while.
Great being back! So, what was my fee?
Like listening to Moonlight Sonata.
Reflection without being distracted.
Looking at nothing reflected in a mirror.
Deep in thought without an idea enacted.
Darkness of the night.
Waking up before everyone.
Minutes buried to candlelight.
Lying in wait and fitting a silencer to a gun.
You’re a good egg, Lilibet
and we’ve grown up with you all our lives.
In an era not long gone
Lilibet you’re the one.
Black or white, rich or poor
Elizabethans all.
With your profile on all those coins and notes
who wouldn’t want to see you more?
On an island in the sea
and around the world spinning in space
newspapers today are drizzly soggy
or sun-drenched parched with your face.
Lucky us to have lived through your times.
Bit of a shock you’re mortal and just like us.
Our personal angels are winging thank you letters to you
while those that aren’t might mumble think gasp ‘Let them have fuss”.
Lamp posts are falling down
and we’re toasting you and your reign.
While not always understanding, we got you.
Us a little bit wayward,
but coming back to your ever-forwatd constancy again and again and again.
On Pleasure Pieland
islanders live life under a system called pie-in-the-sky.
Plumbers fit pipe dreams
and statistics on counting your blessings are always high.
Opticians sell rose-tinted glasses
to see good things over the horizon
and in every house, doors are fitted
so that when one closes, another one opens.
Every silver cloud has a golden lining
and everyone’s glass is always half-full.
Every adult has the job they want
and every pupil is the teacher’s pet in every school.
There’s love at first sight and love that lasts
and, for those more adventurous, true love in blasts.
Underdogs win and no-one feels like they’ve lost even when they lose.
Everyone walks around in everybody else’s shoes.
Pielanders are so happy they look pie-eyed.
They’re easy to recognise.
Doctors prescribe magic potions for free
and hospitals are only there to rest in cos nobody really dies.
you’ve got bills to pay
and you won’t be able to
up to your giraffe in it
someone’s having a laugh
and here’s the graph
you can’t feed your kids
they’ll go without
back to scrooge’s surplus pop by half
someone’s having a laugh
and here’s the graph
you’re struggling
to make ends meet
the rope for your graft
someone’s having a laugh
and here’s the graph
you’ll rant and rave to no avail
you’ll get a pat on the head
scrimp and save for your epitaph
someone’s having a laugh
and here’s the graph
A Pretty Kettle of Poetry 