80 Poems Page 4
With real china plates
He’s brilliant at poetry
He’s brilliant at rhyme
He’s brilliant at lessons
He comes top every time
He’s Brilliant just Brilliant
With a capital B
(Although he’s only average
In comparison with me).
Imaginary Friend
I’ve got a friend
no one can see
That nobody hears
only me
He’s not a ghost
or anything scary
A cartoon rabbit
or a wicked fairy
He’s hard to describe
(looks a bit like me)
Though bigger and stronger
like I want to be
He’s there each morning
and throughout the day
We watch telly together
read or play
There are jokes to tell
and secrets to share
When I’m not well
it’s good that he’s there
We seldom argue
we never fight
(Because I’m the one
who’s always right)
I know he’s not real
it’s only pretend
And I’ll grow out of him
in the end
For when I’m older
I intend
To find an
un-imaginary friend.
Bubble Trouble
The trouble with Bobby is bubbles
Been his hobby since he was a boy
When Santa brought him a bubble
One Christmas instead of a toy
Since then he has tried to recapture
The magic of that shimmering sphere
And decided the blowing of bubbles
Would be his chosen career
Fairy Liquid he pours on his cornflakes
Scented soap he spreads on his toast
To be undisputed world champion
‘A billion I’ll blow!’ his proud boast
Golden globes, silver orbs and Belishas
All manner of ball he creates
And with a fair wind behind him
A small zeppelin our hero inflates
But the trouble with all of his bubbles
Though perfect in every way
Though fashioned with love and attention
(And we’re talking a thousand a day)
These incandescent flotillas
These gravitational blips
These would-be orbiting planets
Within seconds of leaving his lips
Go Just like that
The Tongue-twister
Watch out for the dreaded Tongue-twister
When he pulls on his surgical gloves.
Keep your eyes open, your mouth tightly shut,
Twisting tongues is the thing that he loves.
It’s the slippery, squirmy feel of them
As they wriggle like landed fish.
When he pulls and tugs and grapples
You’ll gasp and gargle and wish
That you’d never pulled tongues at teacher
Or a stranger behind their back,
As he twists out your tongue and pops it
Into his bobbling, twisted-tongue sack.
M. Barra-Sing
Sir asks a question
you really should know
You give the wrong answer
three times in a row
Who’s the one who points the finger?
M. Barra-Sing
Texting coolly
down the street
You drop your mobile
at your feet
Who’s the one who starts the laughter?
M. Barra-Sing
The deejay plays
your favourite track
You get up to dance
fall flat on your back
Who’s the one you’d like to strangle?
M. Barra-Sing
Who makes you blush
from ear to ear?
Who makes you want
to disappear?
Who’s to blame for everything?
M. Barra-Sing.
The Going Pains
Before I could even understand
The meaning of the word ‘command’
I’ve had them. The going pains.
Go to your room
Go to bed
Go to sleep
Twinges that warned of trouble in store
And once in the classroom, the more
I felt them. The going pains.
Go to the back
Go and start again
Go to the Headmaster
From year to year I hear it grow
The unrelenting list of GO.
That bossy word that rhymes with NO
Still can hurt. The going pains.
Go
Go now
Why don’t you just go.
A Poem Just for Me
Where am I now when I need me
Suddenly where have I gone
I’m so alone here without me
Tell me please what have I done?
Once I did most things together
I went for walks hand in hand
I shared my life so completely
I met my every demand.
Tell me I’ll come back tomorrow
I’ll keep my arms open wide
Tell me that I’ll never leave me
My place is here at my side.
Maybe I’ve simply mislaid me
Like an umbrella or key
So until the day that I come my way
Here is a poem just for me.
Emus
To amuse
emus
on warm summer nights
Kiwis
do wiwis
from spectacular heights.
Bee’s Knees
Ever seen a bee slip?
Ever kissed a bee’s lip?
Ever felt a bee slap?
Ever sat on a bee’s lap?
Ever made a bee start?
Ever eaten bee’s tart?
(rose petals and honey)
Ever told a bee ‘Stop!’
Ever spun a bee’s top?
Ever heard a bee sneeze?
Ever tickled bee’s knees?
Nor me.
You Tell Me
When it takes a well-earned rest
Is it still a busy bee?
When a woodcutter chops it down
Is it still a tree?
Do ships wrecked on rugged rocks
Ever forgive the sea?
If it makes them smooth and soft
Would you rub your hands with Glee?
Questions, questions, questions
I’ve no idea, you tell me.
If you met a tiger in the woods
Would you invite it home for tea?
Would you cuddle a triceratops
Or scream out loud and flee?
Do locks at the end of a boring day
Look forward to the key?
If you found a rattlesnake in a baby’s cot
Would you shake it or set it free?
Questions, questions, questions
I give in. You tell me.
Simple Questions
Is a well-wisher someone
Who wishes at a well?
Is a bad speller one
Who casts a wicked spell?
Is a pop singer someone
Who sings and then pops?
Is a shoplifter a giant
Who goes round lifting shops?
Is a night nurse a nurse
Who looks after the night?
Who puts it to bed
And then turns out the light?
Is a potholer a gunman
Who shoots holes in pots?
Does a babysitter really
Sit on tiny tots?
D
oes a pony trap
Trap ponies going to the fair?
Is fire-hose stockings
That firemen wear?
Is a fly fisherman an angler
Who fishes for flies?
Is an eye-opener a gadget
For opening eyes?
Is a light bulb a bulb
That is light as a feather?
Does an opera buff sing
In the altogether?
Does a lightning conductor
Conduct orchestras fast?
Is a past master a master
Who has mastered the past?
Is a scratch team so itchy
It scratches?
When a bricklayer lays a brick
What hatches?
Is a waiting room a room
That patiently waits?
Is a gatekeeper’s hobby
Collecting gates?
Is a prayer mat a carpet
That sings hymns and prays?
Is a horsefly a fly
That gallops and neighs?
Will a pain killer kill you
In terrible pain?
Is a rain hood a gangsta
Who sings in the rain?
Is a card sharp a craftsman
Who sharpens cards?
Who guards women
When a guardsman guards?
Is a tree surgeon a doctor
Who is made out of wood?
Is a blood donor pitta bread
Stuffed with blood?
Is a sickbed a bed
That is feeling unwell?
Is a crime wave a criminal’s
Wave of farewell?
Is a bent copper a policeman
Who has gone round the bend?
Is the bottom line the line
On your bottom?
THE END
Words
Like birds
who dream of eggs
before laying them
Words
I try to weigh
before saying them.
Give and Take
I give you clean air
You give me poisonous gas.
I give you mountains
You give me quarries.
I give you pure snow
You give me acid rain.
I give you spring fountains
You give me toxic canals.
I give you a butterfly
You gave me a plastic bottle.
I give you a blackbird
You gave me a stealth bomber.
I give you abundance
You give me waste.
I give you one last chance
You give me excuse after excuse.
The Man Who Steals Dreams
Santa Claus has a brother
A fact few people know
He does not have a friendly face
Or a beard as white as snow
He does not climb down chimneys
Or ride in an open sleigh
He is not kind and giving
But cruelly takes away
He is not fond of children
Or grown-ups who are kind
And emptiness the only gift
That he will leave behind
He is wraith, he is silent
He is greyness of steam
And if you’re sleeping well tonight
Then hang on to your dream
He is sour, he is stooping
His cynic’s cloak is black
And if he takes your dream away
You never get it back
Dreams with happy endings
With ambition and joy
Are the ones that he seeks
To capture and destroy
So, if you don’t believe in Santa
Or in anything at all
The chances are his brother
Has already paid a call.
Tomorrow Has Your Name On It
Tomorrow has your name on it
It’s written up there in the sky
As you set out on a journey
In search of the How? and the Why?
Oh the people you’ll meet
The bright and the mad
The sights to be seen
The fun to be had.
Oh the dreams that you’ll dream
The chances you’ll take
The prizes you’ll win
The hands that you’ll shake.
But don’t let your dreams
Get too big for their boots
Don’t hanker after the flimflam of fame
If you hunger for mere celebrity
You’ll be drawn like a moth to the flame.
For having dreams is not enough;
You must get down and do your stuff.
Take the ready with the rough.
Ride the punches, and my hunch is
You’ll succeed when life gets tough.
And it will.
Bullies will want to bully you
For that’s what bullies do
And you’ll feel small and miserable
(Don’t worry, I would too).
Even Big Bad Wolves have nightmares,
One of the reasons they howl at the moon.
Being scared is Nature’s medicine.
Not nice, but it’s over soon.
There’ll be days you’re made to feel foolish
When your head seems made out of wood
When you blush, mumble and shuffle
Feel embarrassed and misunderstood.
Things will get lost or stolen
Life doesn’t turn out as you’d planned
You get sick and then you get better –
What’s gone wrong? You can’t understand.
Take your time.
Sing your own songs and laugh out loud.
Weep, if you need to
But away from the crowd.
Disappointments will ebb and flow
Like the tide upon the shore
But an angry storm will quickly go
And the sun rise up once more.
Oh the dreams that you’ll dream
The promises you’ll make
The friends that you find
Whom you’ll never forsake.
Oh the dreams that you’ll dream
May the good ones come true.
Being young is an adventure
How I wish I were you.
Today is the tomorrow we worried about
Yesterday and all last night.
And as days go, as days they do.
It seemed to go all right.
So dream your dreams and journey
Be tomorrow foul or fine
So you can say at the end of it
‘Amazing! Today was mine.’
As Young as You Feel
I’d be the first to swim the Channel in a tutu
The first to climb Mount Everest eating fire
The first to cross the vast Saharan desert
Barefoot on a tightrope of barbed wire.
I’d be the first to win the Ladies Open Doubles
At Wimbledon, at tennis, on my own
The first to catch a fierce and mighty dragon
Whose roar is now the ringtone on my phone.
I’d be the first to surf Down Under underwater
On the belly of a hammer-headed shark
Race an alligator up an escalator
Go camping with vampires after dark.
I’d be the first to skateboard to the South Pole
South polar bears all marvelling at my skill
The first to hang-glide all the way to Venus
And get back quick, because it’s all downhill.
I’d be the first to leapfrog Blackpool Tower
Clear Grand Canyon in one almighty leap
Dream about the FA Cup at Wembley
Score the winning goal while walking in my sleep.
I’d be the first in all these things
So it’s painful to reveal
That maybe now I’m far too old
(Though they say you’re as young as you feel).
‘Roger McGough is a true original and more than one generation would be much the poorer without him’ – The Times Educational Supplement
‘… A collection that works well on the page and is a delight to read aloud’ – Guardian
‘Michael Rosen is one of our most popular writers – the champion for every bored, overdrilled, tested-to-tears pupil in the land’ – The Times
Full of Brian Patten’s wonderful wit!
‘Very silly, utterly crazy humour’ – Jeremy Strong, Guardian
A collection of witty and brilliant poems that bring our monarchy to life!
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