An English student, Delores
Completely consumed a thesaurus
She struggled for ages
But ate all the pages
And now her vocab is colossal, huge, gigantic, massive, vast, immense, prodigious, large, sizeable, tremendous, extensive, considerable, enormous
Zero is nothing
Zero is none
Zero is a number
That's less than one
Zero is hollow
A goalless draw
Zero's uninspiring
A nil-nil score
Zero is absent
A vacant stare
Neither plus nor minus
Barren and bare
Zero's deserted
An empty space
Ever unimportant
It leaves no trace
Zero is boring
A gaping hole
A void or a vacuum
Totally dull
Although...
Zero is no problem
Zero is no doubt
Zero's no pollution
Zero is no drought
Zero's no starvation
Zero is no poor
Zero is no homeless
Zero is no war
Zero's no diseases
No trouble or stress
Pick any number that you like
But I think zero's best
It's the word that you dread, it's the word that you hate
It's the word that will stop you from staying up late
There is nothing you can do to delay your fate
It's BEDTIME!
It's the word you detest, it's the word that you loathe
When putting on pyjamas and your nighttime clothes
Though your movie has another half-hour to go
It's BEDTIME!
You're still buzzing about, neither drowsy nor tired
Your high energy levels nowhere near expired
Next you hear the command that you've never admired
It's BEDTIME!
Mum forever insists that you follow this rule
“Otherwise you'll be falling asleep in school!”
As you wonder why your parents are incredibly cruel
It's BEDTIME!
So to gain your revenge, you hide every house clock
And remove the small battery from Dad's new watch
Till two bellowing voices are yelling out “STOP!”
It's BEDTIME!
It's BEDTIME!
It's BEDTIME!*
(*...although you'll be reading secretly under your bed covers until midnight)
My anglepoise lamp
You are poised at an angle
With light that’s pure white
Beating torches and candles
Beside my computer
You stand on my desk
So sleek, silver, stylish
And bound to impress
When reading or writing
You’re illuminating
(Though if your bulb fuses
I find you frustrating)
Without you my homework
Would not have begun
Without you my studying
Would be less fun
Though your feet are solid
Your body is bendy
You shine through the darkness
Beams brilliant and friendly
Bright, blazing and burning
Like summertime sun
Of all types of lamp
You’re my favourite one
Grandad’s grown a bald patch on his head
Where there once was hair there is a space instead
He doesn’t need a hairbrush
He doesn’t need a comb
It’s tonnes of fun to see the sun bounce off his shiny dome
He bought himself a hoodie
A helmet and a cap
He bought himself a beret
And a woolly bobble hat
Grandad has a fallow spot out on top
Visits to his hairdresser have almost stopped
He's wishing he was younger
And not so very old
He's wishing that his noggin wasn't so over-exposed
He bought himself a helmet
Sombrero and a fez
He bought himself a Stetson
(Worn by cowboys way out West)
Grandad used to have thick curly locks
Now his nut is looking like a hole-filled sock
He sold his shampoo bottles
His hairdryer’s been flogged
I do declare his mop is bare there’s more fur on our dog
He bought himself a bowler
A toupee and a wig
He bought himself a turban
‘Cause that gap's extremely big
Grandad’s grown a bald patch on his head
Where there once was hair there is a space instead
I broke both legs
Smashed several toes
I grazed my knees
Fractured my nose
I hit my head
I split my lip
Then jarred my jaw
And sprained my hip
I burst my lungs
Ruptured my spleen
Bruised all my back
Black, blue and green
I crushed my arm
I cracked my wrist
Lost two front teeth
(Still sorely missed)
My elbow's chipped
My ankle's numb
It hurts me to
Sit on my bum
My shoulder snapped
My spine is strained
I'm not gonna roller skate again
I've an idea that's fantastic
But it's trapped inside my head
Slowly driving me bananas
Since it woke me in my bed
It caught my imagination
Then it burrowed through my ears
Now I sit with pen and paper
In the hope a poem appears
It is yet to have a title
It is yet to have a name
Round and round it swims in circles
It's the goldfish in my brain
It needs rhythm
It needs rhyming
And alliteration too
It needs onomatopoeia
(Sound effects like “BANG!” and...“BOO!”)
It needs funny bits and sad bits
It needs adjectives and verbs
Metaphors and similes
And bucketfuls of brilliant words
Yet this poem's going nowhere
My creative powers have stopped
So can you complete it for me
Or please cure my writers' block?
There’s no cheese on the moon
Only boulders, rocks and dust
There’s no cheese on the moon
You’ll not spot a cheesy crust
It’s a satellite in space
Unfit for the human race
“There’s no cheese on the moon”
Are the words Neil Armstrong said
There’s no cheese on the moon
So no need to take some bread
It’s a place that’s grim and grey
Don’t go there on holiday
There’s no cheese on the moon
No Red Leicester, Cheddar, Brie
There’s no cheese on the moon
Edam, Gouda, Caerphilly
Please select another snack
Fruit or biscuits when you pack
There’s no cheese on the moon
Gorgonzola’s never found
There’s no cheese on the moon
Wensleydale’s nowhere around
Dairy products can’t be seen
Yogurt, butter, milk or cream
Yes, there’s no cheese on the moon
I’ll reveal the reason now
There’s no cheese on the moon
‘Cause there are not any cows!
Enthusiastically
Energetically
Keenly
Carefully
Patiently
Purposefully
Hopefully
Optimistically
Eagerly
Endlessly
Intently
Intensely
Inventively
Assiduously
Ardently
Determinedly
Discerningly
Diligently
Longingly
Yearningly
Avidly
Actively
Curiously
Continuously
Restlessly
Resolutely
Relentlessly
Studiously
Skilfully
Fervently
Frantically
Breathlessly
Zealously
Worriedly
Anxiously
Desperately
I searched a list of appropriate adverbs
For this poem’s title
Until finally finding one that fitted...
When I was ten years old
I sat on the floor
In front of our black and white TV
Wearing only my pyjamas
Watching in amazement
As Neil Armstrong stepped onto the Moon
21.7.69
But I was extremely worried
What if he ran out of oxygen?
What if the Moon really was made of cheese?
What if his rocket did not have enough fuel for the journey home?
What if he was attacked by nasty little green aliens?
Why did Neil spell his name N.E.I.L and not N.E.A.L like me?
What if he felt lonely, frightened or homesick?
But what worried me more than ANYTHING was...
How?
How?
How?
Could he go to the toilet?
“Beware of the Dog!”
He's fixed his eyes on you
“Beware of the Dog!”
He practises kung fu
“Beware of the Dog!”
He packs a powerful punch
“Beware of the Dog!”
He's yet to eat his lunch
“Beware of the Dog!”
He's such a serious threat
“Beware of the Dog!”
Ask the bite-scarred vet
“Beware of the Dog!”
He's incredibly large
“Beware of the Dog!”
He's so supercharged
“Beware of the Dog!”
He devoured the postman
“Beware of the Dog!”
Or you'll be doggie toast man
“Beware of the Dog!”
He does dangerous stuff
“Beware of the Dog!”
SNARRRRRRL!
WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!
GGGGGGROWL!
RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!
Me and MirrorMe
We always agree
Living our lives
In complete harmony
Moving together
On parallel tracks
As I wave to him
I watch him wave back
He models my moods
(And has seen me nude)
He's wearing my clothes
He's eating my food
With replica bodies
Duplicate eyes
We're choreographed
And well synchronised
Our friendship's first class
Reflecting off glass
He frowns when I frown
He laughs when I laugh
If I feel lonely
We frequently chat
Though my world's 3D
And his world is flat
He's my second face
From that special place
My single twin
In the whole human race
Two people sharing
One identity
That's how it is with
Me and MirrorMe
You can run out of milk, mangos, biscuits or beans
When you run out of butter switch to margarine
You can run out of ideas, room, space or time
But you can never run out of rhymes
You might run out of energy, patience or steam
In a heatwave you could run out of ice cream
A very sick snail may run out of slime
But you can never run out of rhymes
You can get run out in cricket or run out the door
Run out of pounds and pence and you'll end up poor
A broken Big Ben could run out of chimes
But you can never run out of rhymes
You might run out of fuel: petrol, oil or gas
If you lose too much weight you could run out of mass
Bored monkeys may run out of trees to climb
But you can never run out of rhymes
In a drought you could run out of water to drink
Prolific poets' pens might run out of black ink
And if you're stuck on 'orange' use 'lemon' or 'lime'
Then you can never run out of rhymes
I don't want to JUMP hit the floor with a thump
I don't want to DASH I could possibly crash
I don't want to PLOD I would probably look odd
I don't want to CRAWL 'cause it's no fun at all
I don't want to FLY as the sky is too high
I don't want to HOP I might find I can’t stop
I don't want to LEAP and then land in a heap
(It’s tricky to SQUIRM unless you are a worm)
I don't want to BOUND bash my feet on ground
I don't want to SKIP I will tumble or trip
I don't want to SPIN like a washing machine
I just want to BOUNCE on my new trampoline
The way they feel, the way they bite
The way they curl up very tight
The way they slither 'cross the ground
The way they slide without a sound
I don't...
Like...
Ssssssnakes
The way their tongues are shaped like forks
The way they never smile or talk
The way they have no hair at all
The way they cannot kick a ball
I don't...
Like...
Ssssssnakes
The way they're still until they strike
The way they're rubbish riding bikes
The way there's poison in their fangs
The way they hang about in gangs
I don't...
Like...
Ssssssnakes
The way they shed their scaly skins
The way they look so long and thin
The way they hide inside your bed
The way they might prefer you dead
I don't...
Like...
Ssssssnakes
Cobra, rattlesnake or adder
Grass snake, python or black mamba
Boa constrictor or sidewinder
Anaconda or pit viper...
I don't...
Like...
Sssssssssssssnakesssssssssssss!
This poem is deadly
Dark, horrible, heavy
Grey, grisly, gruesome and grim
It's frighteningly fearful
Could leave you quite tearful
It does what it says on the tin
This poem's doom-laden
Don't read it to children
Or when you're alone by yourself
It may melt your ice creams
Cause nightmares and bad dreams
And certainly damage your health
This poem's not comic
You'll find no jokes in it
Devoid of all humour and cheer
It's hideous, hated
Now treble-X-rated
Most strenuous, strict and severe
This poem is solemn
Repulsive and rotten
I bet you're already depressed
Mean, miserable, manic
And sure to spread panic
Don't you like the funny ones best?
When I read my poems to my pet spider
They stir feelings deep inside her
When I read my poems to my pet lizard
He says “You're a wise word wizard”
When I read my poems to my pet kitten
She thinks they're the finest written
When I read my poems to my pet adder
Though they're fun they make him sadder
When I read my poems to my pet kiwi
She laughs till she has to wee-wee
When I read my poems to my pet capybara
He guffaws “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”
When I read my poems to my pet horse
She neighs...of course
When I read my poems to my pet pheasant
He tells me they're really pleasant
When I read my poems to my pet jackal
She rolls 'round and starts to cackle
When I read my poems to my pet gorilla
Watch him dance with my chinchilla
When I read my poems to my pet llama
She relaxes and grows calmer
When I read my poems to my pet red setter
He claims my rhymes can't be bettered
But when I read my pet parrot my poetry...
She reads each poem back to me!
I've no time for rhymes
Shape poems are worse
Haikus are horrible
Kennings a curse
I loathe limericks, acrostics
Sonnets, cinquains, odes
Lyrics, raps and ballads
Because I am a poetryphobe
Red sticky stuff upon my lips
Is strawberry jam
The razor teeth I'm sharpening
Are toy fake fangs
I dress in swish black velvet suits
So I look smart
Nobody's tried to drive a stake
Into my heart
You say that crosses bother me
Well that's not true
The only bats I've ever known
Are at the zoo
I'm cool with mirrors in my house
And garlic's fine
That zombie living down the street's
No mate of mine
As I won't sunbathe on the beach
My skin's snow white
I promise you I'm sound asleep
Before midnight
Thick fog around my castle
Is a morning mist
Count Dracula is fictional
He don't exist
No need to cover up your neck
When you meet me
I wouldn't drink your human blood
I'd opt for tea
Those trips to Transylvania?
I've never been
I'm really NOT a vampire
It’s just your bad dream
('Step on a crack, you'll break your mother's back' is an old saying)
Don't step on the cracks
Don't step on the cracks
Mum's back will break
For goodness sake
Don't step on the cracks
The Devil from the Paving Stone
Will rise up and grab her
I've warned you before
You're fighting a war
He might kidnap and nab her
Don't step on the cracks
Don't step on the cracks
Crossing that line
Will snap her spine
Don't step on the cracks
The Gremlin from the Underground
Will leap out and chase her
Push her in a hole
As big as a goal
Till nobody can nobody can trace her
Don't step on the cracks
Don't step on the cracks
Her bones will bust
Turn into dust
Don't step on the cracks
The Savage from the Stony Slab
Will stalk and attack her
Steal all her stuff
Treat her real rough
And permanently trap her
So don't step on the cracks
Be careful where you tread
But in trying to avoid them...
Don't walk under ladders instead!