Wednesday, 18 December 2013

A luxury I’ve learned to live without (2000)

I stroll the Sunday silent street In thrall of muscle weary feat A wasted week
a reek bleak sleep
Straining against the grained brain ashamed of help outside my stale shale shell
a haze of hectic hegemony

                                                                                       recoils rasping from recalling

The strolling bundanced bile and beet Offal bustle. Beery beat, A lazy leap
a reek bleak sleep
Flailing amazed by railing shame I strain I belt out snide I fail fail yell
of ways to septic ceremony
                                                                                       of hangdog heartbust homily

That strolls the Sunday silent street.

Well... (1999)

If life, defined, is this moment
and then the world spins on,
kiss me into a coma
before this moment's gone.

Note: I remember writing this and thinking I was very clever, until I realised I'd read it in Brave New World. Oh well.

Summer Lovin' (1997)

Don't you feel there's something strong between us?
A bit like gropin' in the dark, or squelchin' in the sun?

Run rabbit, run
Quick - Quick - Quick

All this glory strummin' turns my head around
One of these whiles I'll tread a rut and run into the ground

Run rabbit, run
Right into the ground

Drawing at the well (1998)

To draw your face with words
Needs something I don’t possess -
Through the imprint of you at the back of my eyes,
Through the memory of your caress.

For in song lies a blossom, a heartbeat,
A larynxlove pure, untouched, true;
Unsullied by promise of sweetmeats
From poppydreams scrawled in wild hue,

And how bright is the flame of the chorus
With fearless delight in its birth,
Untouched by life’s grimy thesaurus,
Unclipped by this rust-scissored earth.

So I’ll shape a phrase of you,
Inapt though my mothwords will be;
Through the essence of you in the mackintosh rain
Through the part of you dying in me.

Twister (1997)

Can you feel the twister winding up within you?
Do you feel you're flying?

You know,
it's days like these when I feel I could do just about
anything -
as long as you're with me, and I keep this
inside me.
Up into the ether, the only way
<or so they say, I don't care anyway, cause I feel I'm flying.>

I got a spring inside me,
tensing and bending inside me,
so scared it's gonna snap
I feel so spiky it hurts.
I feel the world turning away,
burning my fevered mind away -
too close to the sun on
electric icaruswings,

but I don't care anyway
because for now,

I'm flying.

Service me (1996)

Full on annual sexual MOT,
A gasping jalopy
Rolling on, I let your almond teeth
Clamp lost dignity,
And in an instinct-second, leave my rusty
Hasbeen liberty
And dissolved élan for feckless junkyard elegy.

Where they belong.

Miles behind me.

Rhyw Beth (1997)

Mi oedd hi'n anghreadwy
yr dau ohonym ni wrth gwrs wedi meddwi
ac yn siarad am rhyw

Ond 'r 'on ni wedi chwalu,
rwan dwi'n methu meddwl amdani hi
heb meddwl am rhyw

Be' dwi'n mynd I gwneud
hebdach rhyw


Past caring (1999)

Amongst the dross there is


(the secret is loving the dross)

(thusly stupifying the tricksters and shysters
who seek only to polish turds for diamonds)

Do not seek out the


(for it will demean to illusion)

(seek out the dross, but know therein lies love,

and the stars will sing)

Love and Magic (1996)

Slowly, softly
the world shrinks imperceptibly.
Simplicity through purity
and time is stopped in sympathy
with this moment.




Lollipop love (1996)

Desolate waterfalls of lust are reduced
to a trickle, as years and people
that pass through us

give us only

hesitancy, broken rules, mistust, for we
are so fickle, and tears are a feeble

Still, the only end to a pointless diversion


match and miss-match,
thrust and counterthrust,
use and miss-use,
craven cravings:



And In The End... (2000)

And where do you do my dear where do you do that involved aspect that influences and satiates that bilious bastard of sweaty sweetness that demure dilation that defiles that defies that derides that denies that where that where does it take where does it take where can I first feed where do you do where my dear my where do you do feed first I can take it does it take that denial that derides that defies that defiles that dilation demure that sweet sweat of bastard bile that satiates and influences that aspect involved do you dear do you where and where that where where do that do that take my take.

Forswear do you do unclean fare do you do not evolved perfect not insolences bland face to face not religious mustard of dirty darkness not azure alienation not fertile not facile not for real not for life forswear forswear for my sake forswear for my sake there can I burst bleed forswear do you forswear unclean fare forswear do you forswear bled burst I can there forswear forswear forswear life for not real for not facile not fertile not alienation azure not dark dirt not mustard religion not face to face bland insolences not perfect evolved do you do fare unclean do you forswear for my sake for my sake I swear I swear I swear do do do for my sake my sake.

To share two for two I fear share two for two soft sinful spirits soft sin-abuses gland hate to hate soft thrill of debasement of healthless heathen soft secure secretion soft girdle soft gestalt soft garble soft gum-style to share to share where I break two for two to share I fear I break share gumstyle soft garble soft gestalt soft girdle soft secretion secure heathen healthless debased of thrill soft hate to hate gland abuses sin-soft spirits two for two share I fear two for two to share of sin to share of soft sin to share I break I fear to hate to hate.

And near you you you have seen there you you you laugh betrothed bereft laugh enthralled erect stand late too late laugh chill buff laughter laugh stealthstill semen laugh venal virgin laugh curdles laugh crumbles laugh conquers laugh cancers laugh near and near seen too late seen you you you near too near I seen near too late near cancers laugh conquers crumbles curdles virgin venal laugh semen stilled buff chill too late stand erect enthralled bereft betrothed  you you you near have seen there laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh and
laughter too late

Every night I sweat for daybreak / And every day I shrink from light (1995)

I can’t relax on purpose –
suppose my heart a klaxon;
decibel intolerable,
a squalid debasement, a cell.

The morning’s too close to sleep,
so keep inhaling morose
indelicate aspirations,
respirations inelegant.

Shit man ain’t life a bitch (1995)

I really feel like I’m losing it, losing it,
and I can’t see forward for the blood in my eyes.

I just don’t know what’s holding me up
(or holding me back,
I can’t decide.)

Redemption Suite (predilection, prediction, preclusion) (1998)

The fickle flame flickers, and I smile at the knowledge
That we cry at the same time, it’s just 
The faces that are different.

I’m so tired past the smack of my life
I won’t sleep tonight;
and the image of you burns the back of my eyes,
though I yearn for ice.

So I flirt with the memories, tender illusions
of a honey past,
but I need some brand new ones that don’t have you in them,
and I need them fast.

There’s a beckoning candle in the ebony night
and I’m warmed by it;
for the dungdevilled darkness can never enshroud it
with vile velvet.

In dull destitution and sullen seclusion, I lie
with my sweat,
spinning my hapless way round, round and round, 
round this empty secret.

Redemption Suite 2 (1999)

Were love untainted, yet would it hold no glory.
Insipid, unchanging, and pockmarked by furyless dreams, we'd walk
in faithless fog: a paceless parody of life we'd trudge

were love untainted.

Redemption Suite 1 (1997)

The sun, yawning, wakes;
Its pale, tired rays break through
The receding night.

one4one (1998)

I awake

A tawdry mess of lumpen limb and spaghetti senses.


Upon adage pulverised on pulsing crag, my pulped wrists

Of rage

Assumed long-lost, wizarded away, with imprudent folds of trust long-left

In lakes

Of lonely. Drowned in this azure, even the wanton-weary cannot rest

(Or wake)

Surge, then,

If dare you do, and in challenge to the sorry sun, whose filthy light


To snide into these rabid eyes, shout atonal assurance; and banish trite


Of gratitude given weakly, naiveté lost cheaply. With clattered conscience, delight

In limb

Locked fallacy, only to wake with a world whose hope spins bland and blind.

Methods of Dissent 5 (1995)

Dyle fod rhywle I mi guddio
O lygaid greulon byd galed yma.
Dwi eisiau hedfan o'r gorff yma,
Hedfan a ddianc o'r byd yma.

Methods of dissent 4 (1997)

Piloted I
through Dante-sky
my carriage: talonned, cawking high.

Downcast eyes spy,

on rustsoaked stone cathedra,
grinning brutes awaiting my tumble
claws clamped,
and clanking cold surburbanities.

But the rocks nearby
are comforting, sharp.

When I fall,
I will aim well.

Methods of Dissent 2 (1997)

Infantile I feel, unpleasant at best,
infernal, unreal, and yearning for rest.
With a spine cracked and bent
from this smalltown lament,
eternally reeling, impistry repressed.

Methods of Dissent – the truth at last and easy (2000)

Words, when uttered, lose their power, and mysteries shared are demeaned when inked for all to see.
Stay silent, lock eyes, and smile in the deceit that you know of the same fashionable fantasy,
for language is the last refuge of a gloom-groping man
whose imagination has failed him utterly.

Four Years (1996)

An affliction, this affection.
We bite and scratch from the inside out.
Every sinew, every synapse craves a partner,
Then another.

Years roll by so swiftly

But tears follow you forever.

Season’s Greetings

Who’s happy today?
I am.
Look, I am smiling and can say

Well, because December is a season to celebrate.

December 8 is Bodhi Day,
That remembers Buddah meditating.
We can learn more about that in books and online!
Hannukah is a festival of lights
A special Jewish holiday!
What can we learn about that?

A very old festival is called Yule
Maybe you know that word already.
It is celebrated with singing and food,
A 12 day festival in December.
Christmas happens, too, we know,
At the same time of year. There’s food, and singing,
Family, too, and gifts and a baby Jesus.

Kwanzaa, that’s another one,
A great celebration of African culture,
The name means ‘first fruits of the harvest’
And cheering and happiness too.
Dongzhi Festival’s something you can see in China,
Japan, Korea, Vietnam too
It marks the winter solstice
As many people also do – what date is that this year I wonder?

For the Zuni and Hopi there’s Soyal on that date,
Bringing the sun back awake from his sleep.
It marks another wheel of the year,
Purification and blessings.
Pancha Gapati honours Lord Ganesha,
Who is important to Hindu friends.
Five days of blessings and love and hope.
Maybe we can learn more here too.

Everyone is happy
At this time of year,
Giving thanks and helping each other out,
Remembering those who have come before,
And looking forward to many more times
With family, friends
People we meet


Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Cyfleuon hyll (2013)

Dwi wedi methu fy hun
Colli fy hun?

Dwi eisiau anghofio


Unigrwydd o gofiadau fer

Sdim ots

I still get a shudder when I walk past
Undercover. I suppose.
Just Me. Farrar Road.
Ay. Well.
They killed it.
But here and there you can see them.
Tiny crush barriers. Growing.
From the ground.
From The Ground.
As da price of commerce.
Pitch markings now marked down peaches.
Two-one now two for one..
Penalty box now cornflake box.
Red cards now loyalty cards.
Sent off for savings.
Gave 110% guvnor for a 10% discount.

Students mill about the place picking up
Pizzas for a pound.
So; and so what?
I shiver.
I smile.
I check the bargains aisle at the St. Paul’s End.
It’s a bit too far out for a free kick.
Nobody’s looking.
One last chance?
There’s always a last chance.
And, then:
I check for green shirted referees.
None are watching.
Somehow a marked down orange
Accidentally falls out my hand.
And I volley it toward the defensive wall
Of 49p loaves.

It goes wide.

Felly, a felly.
Ail-creu. Ail-credu?
Na, dwi ddim yn meddwl
fod hyn yn teimlo’n iawn
Dwi ddim yn deimlo.


A ble mae’r iechyd? Lle mae’r fywyd wedi fod?
Sdim ots rili lle fydd bywyd mynd.
Sdim ots pam neu pryd.
Fydd y byd dal yn ddawnsio I rhai ohonym ni.
I mi? Chdi? Be di gwahaniaeth eniwe?
Am pob o rhesymau od
Dim colliad, ond
Yn siml: methu
Ag yn y ddiwedd faswn I eisiau dim ond un cwestiwn bach arall:
O, pwy?

Tuesday, 10 December 2013


There’s a country called Holland.
Stop this poem and find it on a map.
Ah hello, I see you are back.
It’s also called the Netherlands.

Next door there is a place called Belgium.
Stop again and find that place.
Did you find Belgium? That’s ace!
It’s small too, but important.

Because here in this area
Almost a thousand years ago
Was invented a delicious food
Called the waffle, yeah!

The word wafel was originally Dutch
Because they have their own language
It is a big advantage
To speak it, oh, so much.

In English, we call it a waffle
It is of course a kind of dough
Cooked in a special waffle iron, you know.
You can eat it with sliced apple

Or butter, or chocolate, or fruit
Whatever flavour that suits you, man
Maple syrup, cream, honey, jam
Whatever things you like to chew

If we may stop one last time, we
Can find California on a map
Aha you have returned, come back
All this running is making me hungry.

Wednesday, 4 December 2013


I read in a book, a book I trust,
That every single one of us
Me, you, the teacher too,
The man down the road who is eating some stew,
We all are 50 per cent water.

Not to say, to say a lie,
It doesn’t mean that you and I
Splash, walk, splosh and talk,
But that all of our cells, skin, heart and all,
Are made, in part, of moisture.

So, let’s think, think of a way
To cool down on a summer’s day
Hey, yo, why don’t we go
To a swimming pool, sometimes called a Lido
And front crawl through the water?

Which strokes, strokes to swim
Do we know, what do we think?
Doggy paddle, breaststroke, back,
Butterfly and more - just depends what
Way we want to float-a.

And in LA, LA has beaches
Perched upon an ocean that reaches
All the way to Japan! Hey
I guess it would be best
Not to swim all that way, instead
Just to enjoy the water.

We can learn, learn to swim
And sometimes use our water wings
It’s fun, and healthy, that’s for sure
I wonder if that’s all because
We’re all half made of water?

Monday, 18 November 2013


It’s close to dawn or dusk and something furry’s lurking in the soft light
Under the grey you see a sight that burrows in the rocks
You try to stroke it but it jumps 6ft high before you make it
You give him lots of sticks and chew toys to keep their teeth right
That’s right

It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
But keep him nice and cool cause he don’t know just how to sweat
It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
He’s native to the Andes in Bolivia, Chile, Peru, yeah

There’s two types of chinchilla, one has shorter ears and tail
They’re a bit like a ground squirrel and are rodents don’t you know
They live in mountain herds high up at 14,000 feet
They like to eat plant leaves and fruits and insects and small grubs

It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
They only eat a tiny bit of grass or hay pellets
It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
Keep away the fat and fruit because they don’t like that

Chinchillas can hear very high notes a bit like a human
Their thick fur resists parasites like fleas and itchy things
They take their baths in pumice dust made of volcanic rock
Cause water stops them drying and is real bad for their skins

It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
Don’t take them for their fur because they’re under constant threat
It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
Remember always that they like to hang around with friends

It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet
They’re happy in the mountains, but can live with humans too
It’s a chinchilla, chinchilla pet

If you look after them properly, they’ll look right after you

Tuesday, 12 November 2013

Marshmillow, Marshmewllow, Marshmallow

There’s a funny little fellow
Who’s red and green and yellow.
He’s so small that his pillow
Is made of a marshmillow.

He wakes at 5am
Then goes to sleep again
He plays a tiny cello
And sits on a marshmellow.

This chap, whose name is Floo
Sings ‘Dinga donga doo’
As quiet as a bellow,
And wearing a marshmellow.

So, Floo, chew! Chomp that sugary goo! It’s not so good for you! Though delicious, it’s true!
You just can’t beat a sweet sweet treat!
Now everybody…
Stamp your feet!

Floo set up a a toy store
So he could buy some more.
Ran out of things to sell-o
And bought a new marshmellow.

He ate a hundred pounds
And could not leave the ground.
His stomach felt all ill-o
From too much marsh-a-mill-ow.

The moral of this story?
Well, try not to be naughty,
Don’t eat too many sweets
And you’ll stay on your feet!
The fluffy soft marshmallow
Is wonderful to swallow
But make sure that you chew
Or it will be the end of you!

So, Floo, chew! Chomp that sugary goo! It’s not so good for you! Though delicious, it’s true!
You just can’t beat a sweet sweet treat!
Now everybody…
Stamp your feet!
And shout! 

Marshmallows are neat!

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Family Vacations

The world.
It is quite big.
My house.
That is also quite big.
(If you are a bug.)
I wonder where bugs go on vacation.
Do fleas take the fast cat? Or the doggie fur tram?
Or even
The birdy airplane?

A vacation.
What is that?
A holiday.
Time spent, that is that.
(Away from my normal day.)
I wonder if I will see my family?
Uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins.
Maybe sometimes even nephews.

We share
These times together.
We share
Good and bad weather.
(Hopefully mostly good.)
I wonder, will we travel far?
Will we go by train? Will we go by car?
Will there be ice cream?
Or new flavours? New friends?
New places to spend
A little

The world.
It gets smaller.
Back at home
When you remember
(if you can recall!)
The things we did together
As for the fleas – well, jeez, Louise


Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Komodo Dragon

Bet you didn’t thnk dragons were

Ssssssssssssssssssssseeeeeeee we are
Don’t come too close because we
And we have

Do you want to come and see us?
We live in the far
In only a few islands in
Where are we on a map?
Can you find our home island?
Here is a clue:
It is called

We come from a family called
Monitor Lizards.

We can grow to be 10 feet long!
That is higher than a school classroom!
And longer than a big SUV!

We have sharp claws and lonnnnngggggg

When we move we shake our heads to taste the air
Then we can find our

Our skin is made of scales with armour and even bones
This makes us very rugged and strong.

We like to live in hot, dry places like grasslands and savannahs.
We sleep in the night and run in the day.
We can run VERYFAST.
(But not for long)

Did you know that dragons were

Well now you do!

Monday, 21 October 2013

The Ballad of John the Woodcutter

John was a woodcutter
He did nobody harm
Every day he cut his wood
And kept his cottage warm
And kept his cottage warm

Deep in the midwinter
Just before the dawn
The trees creaked as the wind whipped up
Its passion for the storm
But inside, it was warm

But John slept on, regardless
Of the horrendous morn
He’d gathered wood from far and wide
To weather any storm
To keep his cottage warm

The wind blew long and violent
The rain raged down with scorn
Lightning flashed, and thunder cracked
It was a hellish storm
But inside it was warm

It worsened, and it worsened
But John was not forlorn
Outside his cottage he could see
The havoc of the storm
But inside he was warm

He sat there with his porridge
His bread, his simple corn
But John was sad, he wished he had
Someone to share his corn
Someone to share the warm

Go out! Go out!
Go out! Whispered the wind.
Breathed the wind.

So John put on his overcoat
And opened his rough door
He shivered as he staggered fast
Enveloped by the storm
But inside it was warm

He could not see the woodpath
The rain had lashed it all
Through mud he trudged, he knew not where
His steps would take him on
But they would take him on

Come here! Come here!
Sang the wind
Beckoned the wind

The rage and rain and thunder
Made John’s face red and raw
His back was bent, but on he went
Toward the wind god’s call
It was the wind god’s call

The wind god blasted, angry
That John could stand at all
For years the god had tried to blow
John’s house away, but no
The house stood proud and tall
And inside it was warm

John was weak and hungry
And lost inside the storm,
But he buttoned his overcoat
And inside he was warm
His coat would keep him warm

Dusk fell; the wood bruised blackly
Sprites danced, and cackling called
Across the dark, foreboding night
Ungodly noises all
The soundtrack to a storm
The wind god blew in thrall

Lay down, lay down
Said the wind
ordered the wind

Underneath an oak tree
John fell, discomfort raw
He had to sleep, he could not keep
His journey evermore
His tiredness was his all
Exhaustion made him fall

The wind god smiled, victorious
As if the game was won;
But John had closed his overcoat
And, buttoned, he was warm
He dreamt he was at home
Cause inside it was warm

And in his dream he saw her
As always he had thought
He knew her name, but not her face
He dared not look at her
In case she disappeared
He trembled in his fear

His arms reached out toward her
But, laughing, she ran off
John gave a frown, a tear ran down
His cheek, unkissed and rough
It was his lonely lot
But inside he was warm

The storm roared all around him
A wind god’s tantrum fought
To wake John up, but still he slept
Searching for his love
If ever she would come
To fill his heart with warmth

Wake up! Wake up!
Shouted the wind
Screamed the wind

John awoke, in pitch black
Surroundings, as if born
And as he yawned, in front of him
Trembled a tiny fawn
It shivered and it called
In need of hope and warm

John cried once more, with sadness
At this poor creature’s pain
And tenderly he opened up
His coat as round it rained
And beckoned to the fawn:
Inside this coat is warm

He held the creature closely
Protected from the storm;
“Tonight,” he said, “the two of us
Will keep each other warm
For inside it is warm
My coat will keep us warm.”

The wind god raged and blustered
This would not do at all
With mighty effort he blew direct
Onto John and the fawn
They kept each other warm
But vicious was the storm

I hate you, I hate you
Spat the wind
Hated the wind

And suddenly, the mighty force of the wind found a weakness
For John had opened his coat and he could not button it back tightly
The fawn, restored, skipped away from the raging wind
And the wind god had his prize as he blew John’s coat to the furthest corner of the forest
John shivered as he slept, and in his dream his love was also gone as the storm came to its head and danced death upon the forest

John woke, exhausted, hungry
With fever from the storm
He could not walk, he could not sit
His bones were fused and torn
His body racked and worn
His tears horror-borne

Delirious and dying
He shouted and he called
But no-one came, they were all safe
And sheltered from the storm
Keeping their families warm

Sleep death, sleep, death
Cackled the wind
Croaked the wind

John closed his eyes, defeated
And ready to move on
He made his peace with god and man
Ready to breathe his last
He felt his time had past
But suddenly light flashed

He knew not if he lived or died
Or if it night or morn,
Somehow he opened up his eyes
To see the lovely fawn
Who’d come back through the storm
For he had kept her warm.

She spoke to him, voice crystal
Like fresh dew was her song
“You must take your axe,” she said
“And kill me for my warmth,
My fur will keep you warm
My meat will spur you on.”

John said, “But I have saved you.
I cannot kill you now;
Leave me to die, it is my time
But you are young and strong
And life will carry on.”

The fawn said, “John, you do know
That this is fair and just
You must not think me dead,” she said
“So do just what you must -
Remember me at dusk
Remember me at dusk.”

So John struck once, and it was done; and the wind dropped forever
But the skies broke, and rain lashed down, deep and prismic. There seemed to hold a thousand nights of sadness in each single raindrop
John ate of the fawn’s meat, crying with every mouthful
Then he skinned the fawn and fashioned a coat
And trudged off back to his heavy-fashioned, sturdy cottage with the woodpile by the fire, and he fell into sleep

John, John
Whispered the wind
John, I am sorry
Breathed the wind

John dreamt of love and magic
And sharing warmth and corn
His love came back, and he looked up
And saw her eyes were warm
The eyes of John’s dead fawn

She smiled and spoke with crystal
A dewdrop in the sun
“I always loved you too,” she said
“But I could never come
For I am not the one.

“My father is the wind god
My mother is the storm
One night I had on this green earth
Disguised as a poor fawn
And John, you kept me warm.”

“And now you must not dally
Tomorrow you must go
To town, and find yourself someone
To share your life and love
Someone to share your warm.”

“But one thing I will tell you
Is when it’s said and done
Let love be your overcoat
And it will keep you warm
And always you’ll be warm.”

And with that she was gone
Her song was fully sung
Inside his heart was warm
Inside his heart was warm

Thank you, thank you
Said the wind
Cried the wind

And when he awoke the next day he skipped into town on the wings of a caressing breeze
He stopped by a tavern, and heard voices and laughter
And as he peered into the unfamiliar heady haze he caught the eye of a maiden
“Hello” she said, in a voice as crystal clear as the dew, “What’s your name?”

Bonk from Clonk

A young lad who lived in Grand Cayman
had a dream that he was a spaceman
He flew in the skies
to the planet of pies
Where he met an octopus-faced man

On the planet were wondrous things
like a doughnut-shaped dog made of strings
And a green-haired baboon
who lived on the moon
And bounced around daily on springs

There were blackberries bigger than trees
and everyone had fifty knees
Sixteen eyes and a nose
and eleventy toes
And fingers they counted in threes

The friendly alien Bonk
said the planet’s name was clonk
The spaceboy replied
“Do you think that is why
When I walk my spaceboots go ‘donk’?”

Bonk replied, “Yes, it is true
that those noises are coming from you
But they’re not from your feet
because just for a treat
We have given you magic donk shoes”

Now the shoes had five wings on each side
cause the people of Clonk realised
That getting around
without making a sound
Was easier if everyone flied

(because in Clonkety language
 that’s sometimes how things were established
If they knew not a word
 it was never absurd
To invent one, and then make a sandwich)

So the boy said, “thank you Mr. Bonk
how can I repay planet Clonk?”
And Bonk said, “It’s easy:
just sit in the breezy
And together we will sing a sonk

It’s the national anthem of Clonk
this easy and squeezy old sonk
Are you ready my friend?
Let us sing to the end
Our wonderful loverly sonk”

(are you ready? This is how it goes…)

A-Bonkety bonkety bonk
clonkety clonkety clonk,
Donkety donk,
e- flonkety flonk,
Gonkety gonkety gonk.

Honkety honkety honk,
 i-jonkety jonkety jonk,
Lonkety lonkety,
monkety monkety,
Nonkety nonkety nonk.

O-ponkety ponkety plonk,
quonkety quonkety quonk,
Ronkety ronkety,
sonkety sonkety,
Tonkety tonkety tonk.

U-vonkety vonkety vonk,
wonkety Wonkety Wonk,
Xonkety, xonkety,
yonkety Yonkety,
Zonkety zonkety…


Guinea Pigs

Jenny is a Guinea Pig
Her feet are small and her nose is big
She likes to scritch and scratch about
And sniff things with her funny snout

At meal time I give her food
And little treats, if she is good.
I clean her cage and then we play
And that’s what we do every day.

Jenny likes to sing with me
And sits on my lap to watch TV
She has a friend called Danny Dig
Who also is a Guinea Pig

Cause critters feel just like us,
We all need people we can trust
Someone to feed us, play and sing
Someone to share in everything

So be like Jenny, Dan and me
And make a friend immediately!
School is cool with lots to do,
You might find someone funny too!

We can all learn from Guinea Pigs
Though we are small and teachers are big
Once  they were little,  just like us,
They just grew up and lost their fluff.

Shake hands with a new friend today!
But wait!
There’s more!
Don’t forget to shake hands and say,
As loud as you can…




The Siberian Tiger

The snow is white, crinkled, hugging empty branches. I sit, steady and solid, warmed up by my fluffy winter coat. I am waiting.
Across the vast tundra of whiteness I spy a movement. Yes, there, in a copse, behind an evergreen tree. There again, a scrape, a momentary flicker of orange and black, tricky to pick out against the woods but unmistakable if you know what to look for.
I creep closer and as I do so, the figure also stops. This giant, magnificent cat with ice blue eyes and haughty demeanour shows me his teeth. He shakes his mighty head and does not bother with a roar because he knows his own power already. Not today, his gaze says as he stares into my soul.
We share the same earth, now and forever.

As he pads off into the trees I wonder whether we all have a tiger within us.


That’s all you’ll notice!! I am so fast I can run faster than your car!
75 Miles Per hour!! Can’t catch me!! I can even do it in metric! 120 kilometers an hour!
You could say that!!!
I am a very big fast cat!
I get my name from Sanskrit. That is a very old language from India! WOW!
That’s where I like to live!
And in Africa!
That is a very big continent made up of over 50 countries!
Africa is bigger than United States, Europe, China, Mexico, India and Japan all put together!
Once there were many more of us but now we are vulnerable because bad people try and take us as pets and sometimes farmers want to shoot us in case we eat their animals. BOOO!!
But now good people help us find special  protected places to live in Africa!
Where we can run!
And run!
I have spots! But I am hard to spot!

Can’t catch me!!!

Manta Rays

I am a giant.
I do not swim, I fly through the briny deep.
I am warm here in my watery house.
My body is flat, my fins are gentle; I can duck, swoop, shimmer and speed in three dimensions.
If you were underneath me, you’d see me as a kite, playing on currents of restless energy as I make my way through life, happy in my place, ready for adventures.
When it’s a full moon for us Manta Rays, it’s time to find a partner and fall in love. About a year later, new baby rays will appear. They are small but ready to fly too.
Sometimes fishermen sweep us up in their nets by mistake and sometimes they do it on purpose. We are not meant for eating; our skin is tough and we do not taste good.
We are giants.
We only want to fly and swoop.

We are Manta Rays.

Spidge and Spodge

Spidge was a little ginger cat
His friend was Spodge, who was white and black
They loved being friends and making a fuss
Of each other, and grooming, and eating food up

They awoke with the rising sun one day
Spidge was alert and he wanted to play
But Spodge was still sleepy and wanted to snooze
He yawned and turned over and snored like a moose

Spidge said 'Spodge, wake up, it's time for some games'
But Spodge was fast asleep and lost in his dreams
Spidge jumped on the bed and bounced like a ball
But still Spodgy snored and would not rise at all

Spodge opened one eye and said to his friend
'Spidge, let's play something. I recommend
A special game of hide and seek.
I will count to a hundred and seventy three

You go and hide,
And I will try
To see if I
Can find

Spidge tried
To see if he
Could go and hide
Somewhere behind

The sofa, where nobody else could be seen
But in a game of hide and seek
It was a bit obvious that he would end
Up in such a hiding place. Meanwhile, his friend

Curled up once more in a comfortable ball
Cheeky Spodge was not intending at all
To find little Spidge! He was only, it seems
Pretending to play so he could go back to sleep!

Three dreams later, Spodge thought he would choose
To wake up, and decided to eat his catfood
So he miaowed for Spidge, as if to say
That it was time for them to eat then to play

But Spidge didn't hear, because he was curled up
On a cushion and Spidge did not want to wake up!
So little Spodge, who was white and black,
Purred and curled up next to the ginger Spidge cat.