Where do planes take off from?
They take off from airports
What is going from one place to another?
Travelling is going from one place to another
What is a means of water transport?
It is a submarine
A submarine
If you know what I mean
It is a submarine
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The babies fly into arrivals,
And they met the expecting mothers there
They were holding their names up
On placards with all due motherly care
Then the elderly shuffled off to departures
In a state of eternal becoming
And death flew the plane from gate number eight
And piloted it then to the humming
And the businessmen and women
Sat in the lounges of purgatory
Oh it's all just arriving and becoming and going
Departing and flying, and humming and ho-ing
And it was all at the airport of becoming and going
Arriving and staying home homing
The fathers in the bars and in the shops
The woman looks at bras where she stops
Glass vases and confectionary delectable,
confetti, chocolates and collectables,
And duty free bargains play hop scotch
It's just a stone's throw away until you stop
In the airport of becoming and stop watch
What do you call the men who carry the baggage?
The luggage carriers? No they throw the bags
On the plane. He -throw- She-throw, we all throw up
Sick bag, pick a bag and show us when we stop
But it's all in the bag, by the time the corn pops
Pop tart, Racal Thorn, EMI in the pop chart's top
Top hat, hot tap in the ladies toilets
Choose to be thing you've been even if you spoil it
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
In the departures lounge, your future
Is written on the clouds
In the lacuna where the sun breaks through
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
These are the dogs of war
Little Chihuahuas, with their spirits so Ya Ya
Careering headlong into the fray
And other Jack Russells that go for your ankles
And can bring a lion to bay
German schnauzers with sausage dog trousers
Short in the leg, but not in the tooth
And husky sheep dogs who cough near to dusk
And end up lying down on white truth
Cocker spaniel beagles
Whose ears point up
When they hear their queen shuffling
In her slippers and cup
Of cocoa ready
For a lie on the rug
Or a cool collection of the latest little pups
And dogs die in hot cars
Don't you know
And a dog is for life not for Christmas
And stray dogs fall foul of criminals
On the prowl
So, keep them home and wrapped up
German shepherds make police dogs
They can sniff a drug deal out
From five thousand yards
At airports, they are trained as land sweepers
And ready with spider senses to follow up hard
Labrador and Golden retrievers
Make such wonderful believers
They can make a blind man see, if you follow after me
They say I'll guide you home to your happy family
But there are those who will turn up their noses
Who think themselves better than the queen of red letter
And whose furry pelts Cruella tried to get her
But best of all are the Socrates, who think with a tilt of
their heads
They remember the names of the toys you have said
And can go and collect them for you faster than
Postman Fred
These are the philosopher kings of dogs
They soar intellectually above the others like Gods
While your average might know only two words
These Descartes and Aristotles are on ten at least
So never sit down to a game of chess with one
Unless you're half-witted or you'll lose your crown
And Dogs will rule humans in a world upside down
Where black is white, and a dog can frown
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
A paper plane
Dropped a paper clip
From blue ink jet sky
With paper mache clouds
Printing out rainbows
In black and white
And dropping ink rain droplets
Onto the blotting paper ground
Where a strawman walked
Wearing a straw hat
And he walked a straw dog
Who was getting rather fat
And he drank Pimms
From a plastic straw after that
In the garden of his straw bale house
When at the door a pig turn up
Carrying in his trotters a little paper cup
And he said can you spare me a drop of that
So the straw man invited the pig
Inside his straw house
Before the ink jet rain began to fall
From the sky printer clouds
Just then a paperwolf appeared on the front lawn
And said, I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down
I'd like to see you try it said the straw man
These walls are four feet thick and you're not a bellows man
What you'd need is a good blaze
But even that is a push
Because the reeds are bound so tightly
That there really is no air gap
And the paper wolf howled
As he ran down the runway
Of the paper airport
To catch the paperplane
Out of the paper city
Where the wind blew through
The straw houses
And along the wooden streets
Where paper trees
Stood
Writing poetry to themselves
Written in their bark
And upon their fallen dead leaves
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
