Poem - A dark cloud

A dark cloud
that comes like
a Heavy Metal band
playing it loud.

With some thunder
for percussion,
with the best ballet dancers
who are Russian.

There they are
pirouetting along,
as they dance
to it's song

Lightning
strikes
and you think,
oh yikes.

A dark cloud
that drives you mental,
comes as rough sex,
so please be gentle.

The whole orchestra
in full swing,
just letting it
all sing.

What's all
that noise,
but the Almighty
playing with toys.

It really
disturbs,
residents who live
in the suburbs.

It's so wet
and wild,
like the wrong number's
just been dialled.

What's happening
on the other end
of the line,
yeah too much wine.

All that racket
making too much noise,
a dark cloud
behaving like boys.

We all live
under a dark cloud,
so say bugger off
cuz its allowed.

Poem - Cruella de ville

You know
the drill,
watch out for
Cruella de ville.

Sooner or later
she's after your hide,
with a pair of handcuffs
supplied

Those lips you
wouldn't want
to smooch,
ah poor pooch.

Quick get out
of the pound,
cuz she's always
around.

Run and leap
over the fence,
when in her
presence.

Fast as a Greyhound
running down
the track,
and don't look back.

For once she gets
you in her claws,
she quickly
gnaws.

She's one hundred percent
carnivor,
gobbling you up
at the door.

It's pure soap opera
at the end of
the day,
but keep out of her way.

Poem - The Jehovah Witness protection program

There was a man
from Birmingham,
who decided to join
the Jehovah Witness protection program.

Just like the Mob
their well organised,
but you don't have
to be circumcised.

For their message
is on the cutting edge,
and add more to it
than Fruit and Veg.

Ringing more bells
than kids playing
knock doors and run away,
they might show up today.

They must be all
pretty fit,
cuz none of them
quit.

Giving you a
friendly hello,
carrying leaflets
must cause Tennis elbow.

Just keep yawning
like you've got Jet lag,
and put the leaflet
into the Recycling bag.

Like having your
identity erased,
The Jehovah Witness protection program
are locally based.

Their very committed
and do it well,
so join up or you are
going STRAIGHT TO HELL.

Poem - The Brynystwyth Estate

The Brynystwyth Estate
is falling apart,
that's been happening
from the start.

Problems with
blocked drains,
who built this place
didn't have any brains.

Pipes that aren't thick,
and everything looks like
it was glued
with Prit Stick,.

Who goes first
through the floor,
never dropped in on you
like this before.

Thanks for
breaking my fall,
and apologies for
damaging the wall.

Its a real teaser,
when your home's
turning into
The Leaning Tower of Pisa.

We've got some
big outer wall cracks,
but no-one wielded
the axe.

If we get an
Earth tremor,
that would cause
a dilemma.

These flats are
spacious,
but look where I landed
my good gracious.

Poem - Two cacklers

Two cacklers
laughed as if
they were Witches,
rolling around in stitches.

The stuff of Fairy tales
and Fables,
their voices
could shake chairs and tables.

Or bring down pictures
off the wall,
and send a Car's engine
into stall.

With cracks not
seen before,
the sonic boom
unhinges a door.

Afterwards needing
a strong Malt,
two cacklers shook
like the San Andreas Fault.

Needing to be prepared
for Earthquake drill,
that one came close
to shaking a window sil.

To watch other's
crumble like chalk,
at the sound of Giants
up a Beanstalk.

Like going through
a Blitz,
it wasn't exactly
Puttin on the Ritz.

Still laughter
is good for the Soul,
but why now
is there another big hole.

Poem - A little bit of what you fancy

A little bit of what ya fancy

Its good to have
a little bit of what ya fancy,
so how about some
Chips and Scampi.

Do you mind if I add
some Vinegar, Salt and Pepper,
but afterwards
don't treat me like a Leper.

The perfect meal
before bed,
and promised you
there would be a good spread.

How do you
like the taste,
or was the satisfaction
in haste.

If you don't like it,
I'll repent,
as your fries aren't straight
but bent.

The Scampi
wasn't too well done,
oh and wasn't it
fun.

OH Pwease
was it good for you,
and there's dessert
for afterwards to..

Cuz if you don't
like what I did for you,
I'm moving into Iceland
and building an Igloo.

Nor will
I quickly thaw,
Jesus every part of me
now feels red raw.

Poem - The talk and walk

Ruffling a few feathers,
and see how
the storm
weathers.

Got a
good idea,
and others liking
what they hear.

Full of self confidence
and oozing charm,
something inside
just let off the alarm.

Someones words
spoken eloquently,
like it's created a
glimpse of eternity.

Human beings needing
to be nurtured
and protected,
rather than walls erected.

Oh the love and fears
of Heaven and Hell,
casts upon us
it's own spell.

Dogma gone astray,
amongst those
so desperate to get their
own way.

The human potential
has always been there,
it's energy
travels everywhere.

We have
such aspirations,
right across
nations.

Yet we do
the talk and walk,
and watch some things
crumble as chalk.