This is Poetry Week
Needs Must by Rick Haynes
(with apologies to all poets)
I entered the store
We needed much more
And I was a fool
For breaking the rule
My heart was thumping
My feet were jumping
From shelf to shelf
All by myself
Made way to the food
Stood, waited and queued
I filled up the trolley
Bumped and said sorry
Time now to go
The tills are so slow
Paid out the cash
And now to dash
The car is nearby
And I must fly
I sat and I cried
I hope I’ll survive
Now for the white mask
It’s such a big ask
The gloves are no more
And my throat so sore
Tomorrow will come
My plight just begun
The ambulance is here
The hospital is near
The end
Take care - be safe
You know it makes sense.
And now I delighted to showcase the work of a real poet.
I give you The Lockdown Blues by Richard Bunce
The Lockdown Blues
(with apologies to Lewis Carroll)
The walrus and the carpenter
were walking on the sands
they kept their distance, as they should,
and often washed their hands.
Good citizens, they followed all the
government demands.
"This virus is a beastly thing."
the carpenter remarked.
The walrus couldn't disagree
"You're right of course" he barked.
"If only we could have a beer
I wouldn't feel so narked."
The Rose and Crown was all locked up,
No customers allowed.
The beach cafe was looking sad,
without the usual crowd.
No surfers skimmed the briny deep,
or through the breakers ploughed.
The carpenter was self-employed.
His income had all vanished.
"I need to feed my family
My children are all famished."
His friend looked on in disbelief
"Your fears should all be banished."
The walrus tried to comfort him.
"With Universal Credit,
your family are provided for.
Apply! You won't regret it."
"But how am I to live till then,
It takes five weeks to get it.
The schools are closed, my kids are home,
they're driving me berserk,
I need to earn some money fast
I've got to find some work.
And I can't stand to watch
another politician smirk."
"The banks will help you with a loan,
if only you would ask.
You'll have to pay it back of course,
But that's an easy task."
The walrus twiddled his moustache
and re-arranged his mask.
"Or you could go and see the folk
at Citizens Advice.
I've heard they're very helpful
and they treat you really nice.
Request a food bank voucher
And you'll get a bag of rice."
The walrus saw their hour was up.
"Our exercise is done,
So now we must get home old chap,
I think you've caught the sun."
The carpenter said sulkily
"It wasn't that much fun".
"Don't be a gloomster, carpenter.
The spirit of the blitz
will see us through, believe me.
Remember that we're Brits!
And try and be less negative,
it's getting on my tits."
This time I showcase the work of a new poet, Anna G.
Home
Hemmed in by my threshold,
Into rooms safely sewn,
But still I keep saying
'I want to go home'.
Behind battened-down hatches,
Between walls of my own,
I'm well hidden, unbidden
And aching for home.
With my books and my pictures;
All the things that I chose
My head swims, unfamiliar,
And I want to go home.
I'm a coward, the first
To bemoan the unknown
This withdrawal should suit me
But I want to go home.
A poem in the style of Dr Zuess from Nav Logan - Is it Flu?
Is it a Flu? Or merely "Atchoo!" Is it a bug? Or do I just need a hug? Is it a cough, or am I just feeling rough? Am I under the weather? Feeling light as a feather? Or do I just have a sneeze? Excuse me please! I'm a little bit ill. I just need a pill. Slather me in Vicks, and i'll be over it quick.
Thank you so much for reading the poems.
Tuesday Tales will be back next week.
See you then.
