The Thermos

Here’s a (not so good) rendition of an old joke.

I’ll pass you the flask
So you don’t have to ask
What do you mean I’ve done it wrong
it took me so long
It’s not even an hour old
Keeps hot hot and cold cold
So why is the tea ice
And the sorbet melted?

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse.

Does It Pay To Bleed Between The Lines

A piece of music by Mr Scroobius Pip states that it pays to bleed between the lines, from experience I disagree.

I look back and wonder
Did it pay to bleed between the lines
My poetry flowed so smoothly
When lubricated with my blood
But then I take a reality check
No amount of poetry
Is worth a single drop of blood
Nothing is
Does it hell pay to bleed between the lines
Whoever thought it was a wise idea
To teach such rubbish?

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse.

A Thousand Fragments

I honestly can’t remember if I was writing about the coffee shop I write in, my notepad, or something else entirely, but then what does it matter?

A thousand fragments
Of a million conversations
Fill the leaves of this place
I wonder if any will be heard
Or heard in full
Or if they will forever stay
A million conversations
In a thousand fragments.

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse.

A White Blank Page

Yes another poem moaning about not being able to write poetry. With thanks to Mumford and sons for the opening line.

A white blank page
And a bitter rage
Made the ink flow
My emotions show
But now I am well
Away from that hell
What can I write
Now I need not fight?

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse.

Drop by Drop

I’m sure there was something that prompted this, but I can’t for the life of me remember what.

He plots and cheats and schemes and connives
And he stole from me
He plots and cheats and schemes and connives
And he stole from me
This will not do

He stole what is mine
I shall have it back
Drop by drop
Because

He plots and cheats and schemes and connives
And he stole from me
He plots and cheats and schemes and connives
And he stole from me
And it will not do

I took what was mine
Drop by drop
And he watched on
Helpless

He plotted and cheated and schemed and connived
And he stole from me
He plotted and cheated and schemed and connived
And he stole from me
And it would not do

He wept and moaned
As I took it back
Drop by drop
And there was nothing he could do

For all his plotting and cheating and scheming and conniving
And his stealing from me
For all his plotting and cheating and scheming and conniving
And his stealing from me
It could not do

So I took it back
Drop by drop
I took what was mine
My precious wine.

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse.

Idiot’s Tax (aka the Lottery)

Sorry for the delay in posting, things have been a bit mad, but I’m back for a while now.
Fairly self explanatory title for you.

Try your luck
For just a buck
Freedom for you
Or maybe for two
So much money
Would be so funny
Rubbish odds
For you silly sods
Wit money so lax
Paying a fool’s tax
For just a buck
Try your luck.

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment
The Lonely Recluse.

The Bear

Happy Birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday dear meeee
Happy birthday to me
You may ave guessed it’s my birthday today (Don’t know what gave you that idea), so I thought we’d have a bit of nonsense verse to celebrate.

There is a bear
Sat on my chair
He gave me a scare
With his dark stare
When I asked for my chair

Now the bear
Has taken my chair
Back to his lair
It’s not fair
That the bear
stole my chair

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse