House

Estate

/ Poetpas

the difference between living
in or on estate
could be £5 million

in an estate
one has the feeling
one has the whole place to oneself

whilst on an estate
we know,
and (un)willingly accept,
we all live in one house…

Potatoes she peeled: a poem for my nanna

/ Poetpas

where to begin
maybe with the small cracks
in her skin
every afternoon
and again soon
she sat down
in a kitchen
basket on her lap
whilst you heard
the water
dripping from the tap
she peeled potatoes
part of her daily chores
that earthy fragrance
ingrained in her pores
taking out the pits
with a tiny knife
the homely joys
she thought
of her daily life

Free tips for men: Toilet 🚽

/ Poetpas

When you need to pee, sit down rather than stand up! This will prevent a possible deflecting urine stream spritzing the area surrounding you. Think of bath mats, tiles, radiators, shoes and of course the toilet itself.

It will save you a lot of cleaning and will prevent bad hygiene, bacteria, sticky surfaces and rusty radiators (urine contains saltpetre).

Extra tip: keep your pubes trimmed…you don’t want them scattered all round your WC as well? Or stuck to the urine for those who’ll remain standing?

So toilet seat down and be seated😊

Stay tuned for more…

Frau Glockenspiel

/ Poetpas

every day
she peeks
through my window
on her daily walk
short stepping her way
to an embracing slow death
me not knowing
who she is
where she comes from
where she lives
every day
her daily fix
around 6
she walks by
I call her
Frau Glockenspiel
I don’t know why…

Little boxes 📦

/ Poetpas

Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky
Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes all the same
There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same
And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same
And there’s doctors and lawyers
And business executives
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same
And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same
And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same
There’s a pink one and a green one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same

~Pete Seeger

A Nonymous

/ Poetpas

A Nonymous
was a shy young man
who came up
with a perfect plan

bought a cabin
in the boonies
to keep away
from all the looneys

glued his postbox
shut the blinds
build a fence
and planted mines

he removed himself
from internet
and stayed at home
all day in bed

turned his phone off
night and day
and put a sign up:
“Stay Away!!”

Little one

/ Poetpas

little one
on her arm
her nana
meant no harm
when she dropped her
on the floor
when granddad
opened the door

little one
broken in two
nana clueless
what to do
granddad said
I’ll fix her up
I’ll just get
some super glue

Screen door

/ Poetpas

aluminium and mesh
held by squeaky hinges
welcomes
a gentle entry
of air
frequently fresh
oft carried
by a soft summer’s breeze
passing from porch to pantry
keeping bugs at bay
backing the back
and the front door
all seasons
night and day

More flies

/ Poetpas

more flies
fly in
than they do out

they must like head butting windows
what’s that
all about?

Old knot

/ Poetpas

old knot
tied up
lays
to rest
rusty
in the gutter
of an abandoned roof
tried its best
to serve
an antenna
at the end
of a cable
keeping
the signal
strong
steady
and stable

Now I’m 64

/ Poetpas

now that I’m older and lost my hair
I am bald somehow
you stopped sending me a Valentine
no more laughs and now you just whine

tho I don’t go out much and stay at home
you still lock the door
do you still need me, you hardly feed me
now I’m 64

you are older too

and if you say more words
we just may be through

I was so handy, did all the jobs
but you broke everything
you placed my recliner near the fireside
I sat down and me bottom got fried

fell in the garden, I broke my hip
before it began to pour
do you still need me, you hardly feed me
now I’m 64

every summer we went camping near the sea
and in the rain, it was still too dear
we ate chips for tea
no children on our knees
only wasps and flees

write me no letters, don’t give me a sign
I’ll just have a brew
you can’t even hear what I say
I’m hungry here and wasting away

don’t want no answer, but fill out this form
like I asked before
you never need me, I will divorce thee
now I’m 64

~rewrite of When I’m Sixty Four by the Beatles

Vintro

/ Poetpas

old trash rekindled
revived to retro
pulled out the dumps
straight from the ghetto

air is all stale
table and chair
piled up for sale
at a price above fair

rusty lock
industrial lamps
seventies stock
give me the cramps

revamped to junk
in battered trunk
fresh antique
tres new chic

rehabilitated
vintaged venerable stuff
resold as hype
I’ve had enough

Fire alarm

/ Poetpas

oh fire alarm
you’re such a charm
waking me early
you stupid thing
with your noise
your piercing ring

oh fire alarm
you cause me harm
loud and false
no smoke no fire
off on a hunch
you blatant liar

3 blind mice

/ Poetpas

three blind mice
were eating stir fried rice
after they had dinner
they also wanted ice

but as they couldn’t see
they asked the cat to get it
yet the cat ate them instead
after he said: forget it!