I'm scared I'm gonna fail.
I'm scared I'm gonna lose him.
I'm scared...
Perhaps I'm too emotional,
Perhaps I'm too weak.
Maybe I've been to sheltered in life,
And in the things I seek.
I only want to be happy.
I only want to give love.
And now that I have my man,
I get shat on by a bloody dove.
Perhaps I'm far too emotional,
Perhaps I've lost my way.
To be with him is all I want.
With him I want to lay.
I'm scared that I've lost it all,
I'm scared to think like that.
And now that one more year's gone by,
I'm scared to lay down my hat...
• Dedicated to Ronaldo.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Hey Mr iPhone
Hey Mr iPhone,
Connect me to my honey,
I really need to talk to him,
About something funny.
Hey Mr iPhone,
Connect me to my man,
So I can tell him that I love him,
And I'll hug him when I can!
Hey Mr iPhone,
Why've I got no signal?
Perhaps I should move out this place,
And go and live in Bignall*!
Hey Mr iPhone,
Connect me to my guy,
I really want to talk to him,
If I don't I just might cry...
* I have no idea whether this place exists or is a figment of my imagination. Anyway you try rhyming with Signal! Hahaha
• Dedicated to Ronaldo.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Connect me to my honey,
I really need to talk to him,
About something funny.
Hey Mr iPhone,
Connect me to my man,
So I can tell him that I love him,
And I'll hug him when I can!
Hey Mr iPhone,
Why've I got no signal?
Perhaps I should move out this place,
And go and live in Bignall*!
Hey Mr iPhone,
Connect me to my guy,
I really want to talk to him,
If I don't I just might cry...
* I have no idea whether this place exists or is a figment of my imagination. Anyway you try rhyming with Signal! Hahaha
• Dedicated to Ronaldo.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Couldn't think of a title (1)
A really old Chelonian,
Did meet an old Devonian,
Upon a Cornish trail.
Said the old Devonian,
To the old Chelonian,
"What are you be doing down this way?"
Said the old Chelonian,
To the old Devonian,
"I'm down here on a holiday!"
"I started out ten years ago,
And my progress has been slow,
And I'm seventy years old today."
Then the old Chelonian,
Asked the old Devonian,
"What are you doing here pit of your way?"
Then the old Devonian,
Sighed to the old Chelonian,
"I went a-walking and I lost my way!"
Thus the old Chelonian,
And the old Devonian,
Parted and went sprightly on their way.
It took the old Chelonian,
Without the old Devonian,
Five more years to get on his holiday.
• Dedicated to Fred The Tortoise.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Did meet an old Devonian,
Upon a Cornish trail.
Said the old Devonian,
To the old Chelonian,
"What are you be doing down this way?"
Said the old Chelonian,
To the old Devonian,
"I'm down here on a holiday!"
"I started out ten years ago,
And my progress has been slow,
And I'm seventy years old today."
Then the old Chelonian,
Asked the old Devonian,
"What are you doing here pit of your way?"
Then the old Devonian,
Sighed to the old Chelonian,
"I went a-walking and I lost my way!"
Thus the old Chelonian,
And the old Devonian,
Parted and went sprightly on their way.
It took the old Chelonian,
Without the old Devonian,
Five more years to get on his holiday.
• Dedicated to Fred The Tortoise.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Friday, 25 March 2011
Those Simple Love Lines We All Know
You're the Cream in my coffee;
the apple of my eye;
the brightest star in the heavens;
the rainbow in the sky.
You're my ray of sunshine;
lighting up the world;
the wind that blows all over,
and keeps my flag unfurled.
(J.R.A.Gigney, breaking poetry convention and punctuation since 2011.)
• Dedicated to Ronaldo.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
the apple of my eye;
the brightest star in the heavens;
the rainbow in the sky.
You're my ray of sunshine;
lighting up the world;
the wind that blows all over,
and keeps my flag unfurled.
(J.R.A.Gigney, breaking poetry convention and punctuation since 2011.)
• Dedicated to Ronaldo.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Thursday, 24 March 2011
The Four Ages of Prehysteria
The Four Ages of Prehysteria
Many people believe that there are three ages of Prehysteria. There are, however, four. These are as follows:-
(1) THE BONSHUS* AGE
The age of large bulbous creatures with little legs, a few creatures called Deanosores which were mainly scaly and feathered angry things that growled alot and were squished by the Bonshii.
Also around at the time were a few people who liked to sleep with their feet tied together by Banana skins. They were known as The Stupid Na-Na people...
* The Bonshus (not to scale)
(2) THE STONED AGE
An age dedicated to the smoking of hallucinogenic substances and the odd stoning of adulterers.
Not much happened in this age, but boy they were very happy...
(3) THE BRONZED AGE
This age is mainly known for the rise and ultimate fall of the Tanning Salon people and the Orange Revolution created by the advent of cheap artificial tanning products... There was something about metal too...
(4) THE IRONING AGE
The birth of the Tefal, Rowenta and Morphy Richards Civilisations along with the invention of the ironing board which led to the creation of Extreme Ironing which virtually wiped out each of the civilisations due to the numbers of Extreme Ironing practitioners trying to iron whilst bungee jumping despite the fact that the bungee rope was not invented for at least another 2500 years.
The Romans finally caused the downfall of the civilisations when they invaded the main cities and banned Ironing Boards.
Julius Caesar is rumoured not to have actually been killed in the Senate but actually in an Extreme Ironing accident. He apparently was a fan of the now illegal activity and the accident involved a pleated toga and a pair of primitive underpants...
• Dedicated to Auntie Gillian, Auntie Sharon and Jolyon Parish.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Many people believe that there are three ages of Prehysteria. There are, however, four. These are as follows:-
(1) THE BONSHUS* AGE
The age of large bulbous creatures with little legs, a few creatures called Deanosores which were mainly scaly and feathered angry things that growled alot and were squished by the Bonshii.
Also around at the time were a few people who liked to sleep with their feet tied together by Banana skins. They were known as The Stupid Na-Na people...
* The Bonshus (not to scale)
(2) THE STONED AGE
An age dedicated to the smoking of hallucinogenic substances and the odd stoning of adulterers.
Not much happened in this age, but boy they were very happy...
(3) THE BRONZED AGE
This age is mainly known for the rise and ultimate fall of the Tanning Salon people and the Orange Revolution created by the advent of cheap artificial tanning products... There was something about metal too...
(4) THE IRONING AGE
The birth of the Tefal, Rowenta and Morphy Richards Civilisations along with the invention of the ironing board which led to the creation of Extreme Ironing which virtually wiped out each of the civilisations due to the numbers of Extreme Ironing practitioners trying to iron whilst bungee jumping despite the fact that the bungee rope was not invented for at least another 2500 years.
The Romans finally caused the downfall of the civilisations when they invaded the main cities and banned Ironing Boards.
Julius Caesar is rumoured not to have actually been killed in the Senate but actually in an Extreme Ironing accident. He apparently was a fan of the now illegal activity and the accident involved a pleated toga and a pair of primitive underpants...
• Dedicated to Auntie Gillian, Auntie Sharon and Jolyon Parish.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Ten Ditties
One
There's a hole in my nut,
Where the thoughts leak out.
They get out so fast,
I've the memory of a trout.
Two
Rain's transparent,
The sky is too.
But because of refraction,
The sky looks blue...
Three
Pogscroodle once,
Pogscroodle twice.
Then wait a second and,
Pogscroodle thrice!
Four
Thimble nimble,
Scribble scroo.
Ibbly dibbly,
Flibble froo.
Five
Dare to be wonderful,
Dare to be new.
Dare to be loveable,
Dare to be you!
Six
Larry Lather laughing lots,
Went abroad without his shots.
Larry Lather's in the loo,
Because he ate the Octopus stew!
Seven
Do what you want.
Do what you do.
Do what you need to.
Just think of me too...
Eight
Hello World!
My old brain said.
Then it got splatted,
So now it's dead.
Nine
Speeling mistukes,
And puddy tat boots.
Umblestewed peoples,
And Elephant flutes.
Werevarks and werewolves,
In vampirish suits.
Never take morphine,
With hoppity roots!
Ten
Look in the mirror,
You're the wrong way round.
Look through a spyhole,
For lots to be found.
Look back in the mirror,
Is that really you?
Look back through the spyhole,
To see if it's true...
• Dedicated to Auntie Gillian.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
There's a hole in my nut,
Where the thoughts leak out.
They get out so fast,
I've the memory of a trout.
Two
Rain's transparent,
The sky is too.
But because of refraction,
The sky looks blue...
Three
Pogscroodle once,
Pogscroodle twice.
Then wait a second and,
Pogscroodle thrice!
Four
Thimble nimble,
Scribble scroo.
Ibbly dibbly,
Flibble froo.
Five
Dare to be wonderful,
Dare to be new.
Dare to be loveable,
Dare to be you!
Six
Larry Lather laughing lots,
Went abroad without his shots.
Larry Lather's in the loo,
Because he ate the Octopus stew!
Seven
Do what you want.
Do what you do.
Do what you need to.
Just think of me too...
Eight
Hello World!
My old brain said.
Then it got splatted,
So now it's dead.
Nine
Speeling mistukes,
And puddy tat boots.
Umblestewed peoples,
And Elephant flutes.
Werevarks and werewolves,
In vampirish suits.
Never take morphine,
With hoppity roots!
Ten
Look in the mirror,
You're the wrong way round.
Look through a spyhole,
For lots to be found.
Look back in the mirror,
Is that really you?
Look back through the spyhole,
To see if it's true...
• Dedicated to Auntie Gillian.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Monday, 21 March 2011
For my friends
A song of love,
Go sing it true,
A song so cheerful,
And never blue.
Preserve my friends,
And let their love,
Be everlasting,
Sanctioned from above.
So let us sing a madrigal,
Of things of pleasure found.
So let us sing this song for all,
And make a glorious sound.
• Dedicated to James and JC.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Go sing it true,
A song so cheerful,
And never blue.
Preserve my friends,
And let their love,
Be everlasting,
Sanctioned from above.
So let us sing a madrigal,
Of things of pleasure found.
So let us sing this song for all,
And make a glorious sound.
• Dedicated to James and JC.
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Saturday, 19 March 2011
Brainache
Brainache
Go away!
Don't come back!
Just stay at bay!
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Go away!
Don't come back!
Just stay at bay!
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated in the title.
Friday, 11 March 2011
Defying Gravity
Defying Gravity by J R A Gigney
Inspired by a good buddy & Dedicated to Ronaldo
Hey!
What are you doing up there?
I'm sure you're not supposed to walk on the ceiling!
Where did you learn to do that?
You've done it all your life?
Yes I've imagined you floating free,
But I didn't know you could.
How long have you been defying gravity?
All your life!
Why didn't you tell me,
That you could do that?
I'm amazed and surprised!
Could I do it to?
Could I defy gravity like you?
Could I defy gravity like you?
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Inspired by a good buddy & Dedicated to Ronaldo
Hey!
What are you doing up there?
I'm sure you're not supposed to walk on the ceiling!
Where did you learn to do that?
You've done it all your life?
Yes I've imagined you floating free,
But I didn't know you could.
How long have you been defying gravity?
All your life!
Why didn't you tell me,
That you could do that?
I'm amazed and surprised!
Could I do it to?
Could I defy gravity like you?
Could I defy gravity like you?
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Thursday
Thursday by J R A Gigney
Once upon a Thursday,
A dragon was espied.
A big green scaly reptile,
With great wings at it's sides.
The dragon lit a fire,
With it's hot hot breath.
The wood pile leapt into flames,
And burnt on until it's death.
Some knights did come to slay,
The dragon which had done no wrong.
It watched their every movement,
And then tamed them with a song.
It's voice was rich and silky,
It's song was one of peace.
It sang of milk and honey,
And the softness of a fleece.
The knights who all were grateful,
Gave the dragon some wine to sup.
It gratefully accepted,
And then gobbled them all up!
Once upon a Thursday,
A dragon was espied.
But no one does disturb it,
Since the knights they had all died...
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Once upon a Thursday,
A dragon was espied.
A big green scaly reptile,
With great wings at it's sides.
The dragon lit a fire,
With it's hot hot breath.
The wood pile leapt into flames,
And burnt on until it's death.
Some knights did come to slay,
The dragon which had done no wrong.
It watched their every movement,
And then tamed them with a song.
It's voice was rich and silky,
It's song was one of peace.
It sang of milk and honey,
And the softness of a fleece.
The knights who all were grateful,
Gave the dragon some wine to sup.
It gratefully accepted,
And then gobbled them all up!
Once upon a Thursday,
A dragon was espied.
But no one does disturb it,
Since the knights they had all died...
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Words
Words can linger
Words can hurt
Words can express a thought.
Lexicography is important
The meanings need to be
Gathered up and written down
With other words you see.
One day you will find a word
That expresses what you think
Just use the right one at the right time
Or you'll be on the brink.
Words are clever
Words are good
Without words
You won't do what you should...
Use words carefully or you could hurt someone you adore...
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Words can hurt
Words can express a thought.
Lexicography is important
The meanings need to be
Gathered up and written down
With other words you see.
One day you will find a word
That expresses what you think
Just use the right one at the right time
Or you'll be on the brink.
Words are clever
Words are good
Without words
You won't do what you should...
Use words carefully or you could hurt someone you adore...
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Zonk!
Zonk
Zonk
Plonk
Bonk
Zonk
Donk
Gonk
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Zonk
Plonk
Bonk
Zonk
Donk
Gonk
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
The Fox, The Lazy Dog and All Good Men
The Fox, The Lazy Dog & All Good Men
By J R A Gigney
So! What happened,
After the quick brown fox,
Had cleared the lazy dog,
And all good men,
Had come to the aid of the party?
Did the dog yawn?
Where did the men go?
Did the fox get it's chicken?
Did the party fade out with a whimper?
Why didn't the quick brown dog,
Jump over the lazy fox?
Why did the party need aid?
Was it boring or was it Tory?
So! The dog's left asleeping,
The fox left a-creeping.
The party must be over,
And the men are all in clover.
The Quick Brown Fox jumped over the Lazy Good Men.
Now is the time for a Good Dog to come to the aid of the Party...
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
By J R A Gigney
So! What happened,
After the quick brown fox,
Had cleared the lazy dog,
And all good men,
Had come to the aid of the party?
Did the dog yawn?
Where did the men go?
Did the fox get it's chicken?
Did the party fade out with a whimper?
Why didn't the quick brown dog,
Jump over the lazy fox?
Why did the party need aid?
Was it boring or was it Tory?
So! The dog's left asleeping,
The fox left a-creeping.
The party must be over,
And the men are all in clover.
The Quick Brown Fox jumped over the Lazy Good Men.
Now is the time for a Good Dog to come to the aid of the Party...
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
The Only Duck In Maldon
The Only Duck In Maldon
By J R A Gigney
The only duck in Maldon came waddling up to me,
"It's lonely here,
I've got no friends,
Do you want to come round to tea?"
I was taken aback,
Surely ducks only quack!
But the offer had been true.
So I went around,
And the meal was sound,
With lots of cream cakes too.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
By J R A Gigney
The only duck in Maldon came waddling up to me,
"It's lonely here,
I've got no friends,
Do you want to come round to tea?"
I was taken aback,
Surely ducks only quack!
But the offer had been true.
So I went around,
And the meal was sound,
With lots of cream cakes too.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Saturday, 5 March 2011
Words
Words
By J R A Gigney
Words can hurt.
Words can cause wars.
Someones rhubarb,
Is anothers blah blah blah.
And yet we make more.
Some even swallow the dictionary.
But words are just words,
They're not worth killing for,
They're not worth dying for,
Yet they cause tears,
Heartache and joy.
Words are curious.
Some use them to hurt, to hate.
Time to learn to be diplomatic,
Or you will lose the argument.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
By J R A Gigney
Words can hurt.
Words can cause wars.
Someones rhubarb,
Is anothers blah blah blah.
And yet we make more.
Some even swallow the dictionary.
But words are just words,
They're not worth killing for,
They're not worth dying for,
Yet they cause tears,
Heartache and joy.
Words are curious.
Some use them to hurt, to hate.
Time to learn to be diplomatic,
Or you will lose the argument.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Waiting
Waiting by J.R.A.Gigney
Standing on the corner of a well trod street,
Watching other people greet each other as they meet.
Keeping hands warm in pockets filled with sweets.
Waiting for something to happen.
Standing on a station til a train comes in.
Listing to announcers who make such a din.
Screens that look as though they're made out of tin.
Waiting for something to happen.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Standing on the corner of a well trod street,
Watching other people greet each other as they meet.
Keeping hands warm in pockets filled with sweets.
Waiting for something to happen.
Standing on a station til a train comes in.
Listing to announcers who make such a din.
Screens that look as though they're made out of tin.
Waiting for something to happen.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
What is a Tea Bag?
What is a Tea Bag?
By J.R.A.Gigney
What is a tea bag?
It's a drink in a pouch!
What's a couch potato?
But a potato on a couch!
What is a coffee bean?
It's not a bean at all.
What's in a name?
I'm not sure I can recall...
What is the ozone?
Is it a zone with ohs?
Why do I ask this?
I do it at my repose.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
By J.R.A.Gigney
What is a tea bag?
It's a drink in a pouch!
What's a couch potato?
But a potato on a couch!
What is a coffee bean?
It's not a bean at all.
What's in a name?
I'm not sure I can recall...
What is the ozone?
Is it a zone with ohs?
Why do I ask this?
I do it at my repose.
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
Friday, 4 March 2011
The Microwave Meal Cafe
The Microwave Meal Cafe
By J.R.A.Gigney
Table for two, Sir?
Follow me, Sir.
Nice table here, Sir.
Menus, Sir?
Drinks to begin, Sir?
Well there's,
Lemonade,
Coke or Pepsi,
(It's your choice, Sir)
Wine from a box,
Red or White.
How about a beer?
Bitter, ale or lite?
You want some O.J?
That's okay!
Now for the food that comes your way...
Plastic meat from a plastic box,
Microwaved to perfection.
Just right for you to eat.
Plastic veg in plastic bags,
Boiled or microwaved until al dente,
And all of this for £10:20.
Plastic chicken in a basket,
Our speciality!
Plastic chilli with plastic nachos,
All of these are delicacies!
May I ask why you seem to be leaving?
It did say on the door!
You could make it at home for cheaper!
Well how on earth do you know?
Please come back I'm here to serve you,
Guide you through our wondrous meals.
Oh!
They've gone!
Now that's a shame,
And they didn't leave a tip...
Look another party's entered!
Will that be a table for six?
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
By J.R.A.Gigney
Table for two, Sir?
Follow me, Sir.
Nice table here, Sir.
Menus, Sir?
Drinks to begin, Sir?
Well there's,
Lemonade,
Coke or Pepsi,
(It's your choice, Sir)
Wine from a box,
Red or White.
How about a beer?
Bitter, ale or lite?
You want some O.J?
That's okay!
Now for the food that comes your way...
Plastic meat from a plastic box,
Microwaved to perfection.
Just right for you to eat.
Plastic veg in plastic bags,
Boiled or microwaved until al dente,
And all of this for £10:20.
Plastic chicken in a basket,
Our speciality!
Plastic chilli with plastic nachos,
All of these are delicacies!
May I ask why you seem to be leaving?
It did say on the door!
You could make it at home for cheaper!
Well how on earth do you know?
Please come back I'm here to serve you,
Guide you through our wondrous meals.
Oh!
They've gone!
Now that's a shame,
And they didn't leave a tip...
Look another party's entered!
Will that be a table for six?
• All poems on this blog are written and belong to J. R. A. Gigney, unless otherwise stated.
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