A selection of poetry and verse from new poet in Birmingham England
Ay bee!
Did you C dee?
'E's F 'ing put money
On a G gee.
H and I
Went out with Jay,
And Kay said
To 'ell with it
Emm' 'n oh!
Wait a minute
I need a pee.
There's a Queue
Arrr!!
A long S bend,
Fancy a Tea?
Me, you and Vee.
Fancy a double?
You will need it,
As your ex is here.
Sorry for yawning,
Why?
I'm really tired
Zzzzzzz.
Fill All Aypryll 2014
The dreadful Crohn's disease has no cure, a lifetime of surgical intervention awaits all who develop it. I met a young lady who was for theatre...... Hannah.
Today,
There is no such thing
As today.
It was just like
Any other day,
But that's not
What I wanted
To say,
It was this day
A normal working day,
I met Hannah.
She was sat
A nervous young thing,
Her bravery
Like a gossamer wing.
A fragility
In youthful skin
Concealing
A defiant woman within,
But I saw through it all
The timid and delicately small
Hannah.
She walked with me
She held my arm,
Fear in her steps
Afraid of the harm.
But, she trusted me
Her Knight, all in blue,
I held her hand
I knew what to do.
The team gathered
And hands were lathered
For Hannah.
The hours past
We did what we were able,
As this defenceless young lady
Lay naked on the table.
Life dealt her a tough hand
She'll have problems for life,
Many operations
Under many a knife.
As she came round
The defiant sparkle re found
Brave Hannah.
Thank you Hannah
For leading the way,
For giving me renewed faith
In people today.
This young lady
So inspiring and brave,
To this condition
She'll not be a slave.
For a day you were a queen
A true Angel I'd seen,
Sweet Hannah.
He stands
Looking over what has been,
Strange visions
Espied
Never before seen.
He sees the hands of time
Telling the story of man,
The tick tock
Racing clock
Lifetimes rapid span.
The seconds pass
Players on the stage,
Pain and joy
Whether girl or boy
Ink dried on the page.
He sees birth
All in the breath of a second,
Then death
Decomposition
When ones soul is beckoned.
Phil Hall July 2014
Alone again and staring
Over the sea of uncertainty,
The doleful moon isn't shining
Its beams are dimmed, I can't see.
A sorrow I've felt once before
When time ground to a halt,
My heart is leaden and heavy
Am I the cause, the fault?
Was any of this truly written?
Of love, yearning and desire,
The stars explode in the sky
As tears douse the funeral pyre.
My soul had been opened
For all the world to witness my joy,
Now this warrior stands broken
Just a scared and timid little boy.
The only thing that matters
Is I can see her, hear her voice,
I pray God keep her safe
(She'd be a perfect angel I know)
Please don't make that choice.
A pulse of the resonant drum
With its beat dull on times spent,
The sun has gone, left me here
To tread water in my sad lament.
The waves curl about my legs
And the tide of time tugs at me,
I can't swim, my arms are tied
In the bleak sea of uncertainty.
Phil Hall April 2014
You're great
Oh! and you're great too,
Thanks
But I'm not as great
As you.
I think you're the best
I like you the most,
Wow
I'm so honoured
I try not to boast.
I'll back slap you
If you slap me back,
I'll not mention him
Though
He thinks I'm cack.
He's not one of us
As he stands alone,
With his aggression
All he does is
Moan.
He's not part
Of our circle or select clan,
His poetry
Mocks the clique
He's an awful man.
He often hits the nail though
And his work has a place,
But never try to
Slap his back,
'Cause he'll more than likely
Punch your face!!
Phil Hall April 2014.
I've always loved
The little man
Sailing in his boat,
When he salutes me
I flick my tongue
And away to heaven he floats.
It's important to me
That I speak to him
In a loving kind of dream,
I can taste
The salty sweetness
Upon the river of cream.
I plot a course
Beyond him
Deep into uncharted waters,
Past turbulent waves
Of passion
Lay with Hyperions daughter.
Once I reach my destination
And paradise
I have found,
My flag
Is planted deeply
In this fertile ground.
I work her hard
Til all seed is cast
And our grinding has abated,
The joy of new life
In future months
Has left us spent and sated.
But my pleasure is to give
And pay homage
To the little man in the boat,
All wrapped up snug
In his hood
And scented petal overcoat.
Phil Hall April 2014
Hey you
Out there!
Are you true to your word?
Not just sucking up
Like some
Snivelling turd?
I mean
For Christ sake,
Do you believe
In what you write?
Or is it
Just fake?
You plagiaristic shite.
You speak of love
Like it's extremely rare,
You extol your sexuality
Like it's a childish dare!
You find a theme
And flog it to death,
Like a long distance runner
Who's struggling for breath.
Throw away lines
So easy to discard,
You'd be better suited
Writing verse in a birthday card.
This medium is a haven now
For the generic and the bland,
Original thought getting rarer
I'll try and make a stand.
Have a go and write
About a subject or topic new,
Then instead of the crap
I may understand the real you.
Phil Hall April 2014
When once I larked
Kicking a football
In the park,
My life has now turned
To just throwing stones
And
Shattering the stillness of the pond.
There's a greyness now
And stress creasing
A furrowed brow,
Hair once blonde
Just throwing stones
And how;
Shattering the stillness of the pond.
For years the denial
And young minds
To defile,
The tongue became barbed
Wicked edge like a nettles frond
With me
Shattering the stillness of the pond.
What comes next?
Shuffling along
Can't stay vexed,
Hands in pockets deep
A need to abscond
Away from the hurling
Of stones into the pond.
Life has taken me
From the front seats
To a place in the dark,
With death I have a bond
The flint of youth
Offers now just a feeble spark
A faint ripple on the pond.
So, today I take pleasure
Painting the canvas of my past
A masterpiece, a treasure
This is my mortal song,
I sit looking into the ponds depths
The stones representing breaths
To waste them would be wrong.
Phil Hall April 2014
Hey there!
Hello stalker Tom,
Why don't you
Tell the world
Where you come from?
Come on Tom
Don't be scared,
Is it because
I'm a man
That we've not shared.
Or is it
Just the ladies
On which you prey?
Earlier
You had plenty to say,
But, I think
That's your way.
Public outlets you trawl
Finding pretty ladies
To whom you can call,
Jesus, you made
My girls skin crawl.
Once you were denied
Turned down
I called you out,
So now you hide,
Until another victim
Can be spied.
There are plenty
Of places you can go,
Left handed sites
That put on a show.
So Tom
You pathetic stalker,
Google walker,
There are lots
You can find
So leave the women be
And beat yourself stupid
And happily go blind!!!!
Phil Hall April 2014
I've got a foot
In fact
I have got two,
They're very useful
When going to the loo.
I don't have to bend
To piddle
In the pan,
That is a benefit
Of being
A big man.
The problem
That I have
And I don't know
What to do, is
If I have a stiffy
How do I
Put on my shoe?
Phil Hall April 2014
Oh dear
Oh dear, dear, dear
What the hell
Is going on round here?
Where Daddy is Mommy
And Mommy is Daddy
And other things
Rather queer.
The subjects
Generally taught
Eg..Reproduction in biology
To our children at school,
The union
And procreation
Of man and woman
Being the rule.
Now, we've
Barry and Brian
Anna and Anita
With a blob of aqua lube,
Replacing
Natures purest form
Of mating
With a turkey basting tube.
As parents
There's no denying
They'd probably be
Full of love,
But
In truth they're
Just guardians
Giving mother nature a shove.
"Daddy, where did I come from?"
"Ask your Mommy darling"
"But Daddy, Mommy is a man",
Oh dear, oh dear dear dear
"In biology today"
"We learnt about having babies"
"And that it's only a woman who can"
When fish first slithered
From the murky depths
Millions of years ago
They were male and female,
If it had been
Any different
Like Barry and Brian
Then life on earth would've failed.
Phil Hall April 2014.
It just happened
I didn't intend to do it,
I remember thinking
Oh shit!
I mean
Who would actually
Want
To kill the queen?
The one minute
She was there,
All elegant and regal
Then I was plunged
Right in it.
I don't think
It's legal.
In my defence
I was
Protecting myself,
As I grabbed
The rolled up newspaper
Lying on the shelf.
I thought
She was attacking me
In my own
Front room,
So I belted her
About the bonce
And sealed
Her majesty's doom.
She lay there
Squirming dizzily
I wasn't sure
What to do,
So I put the queen
Out of her misery
And crushed her with my shoe.
Phil Hall April 2014
I've written about
Nature
And comedy too,
I've penned
Historical
And educated you.
Rhymes about
Love
And how it was found,
Prose created
For the worlds beauty
On view all around.
My feelings typed
Telling
Of birds in flight,
And the build up
Of tension
When warriors fight.
I've waxed lyrical
Regarding a threesome
With chocs in my bed,
Also described
My world
From A to Z.
There's been poems
About a frog
And a flea that talk,
With an invitation also
To stroll on cliffs
And a country walk.
How many times
Have I written
About age?
Sharing a woman's pain
About abuse
Being locked in a cage.
I've teased
The reader
Describing fantasy sex,
Even been chased
In a dream
By Tyranosaurus Rex!
But for all that
I've written
It means bugger all,
When I see
The comments about
A bloody waterfall!!
Phil Hall April 2014.
When I look up to the stars
I think
Which one of you is mars?
And which one is the moon?
Saturn has its rings
And the
One which sings
Must be
Far away nep-tune.
Would it be
Very hot
Walking on mercury?
Is it too far
To ski
On tiny pluto?
Wouldn't get there anytime soon.
Just for my girl
I'd please her
With a holiday on Jupiter,
Venus might also be ok
To visit for a day
Maybe not though
It'd just cause a stir.
For what it's worth
I'll stay
Right here on earth,
It's certainly a bonus and boon
Because it'd be awfully shite,
If Ur anus was in sight
I'm sure I'd probably swoon.
Phil Hall April 2014.
TIGER LILY
(A WHORE FROM PICCADILLY)
The first time
I sang about
Tiger Lily,
I was marching
Down High Street
With my best mate
Corporal Billy.
I heard
She was a whore
From Piccadilly,
Long black hair
Bright red lips
An expensive
Feisty filly.
Her mother
We had come
To understand,
Was also
On the game
Working the street
Known as the Strand.
The father
Hung around
The 'Elephant & Castle',
Offering men
All sorts of things
Including
Selling his arsehole!!
So we march
And sing
Off to war as planned,
Waxing lyrical
About Tiger Lily
And the weirdest
Fucking family in the land.
Phil Hall April 2014
"My name is Tiger Lily
I'm a whore from Piccadilly
My mother is another
On the Strand.
My father hawks his arsehole
Down the Elephant & Castle
We're the weirdest
Fucking family in the land"
World war two British army
Marching song.
Composer.... Unknown.
I have died,
That's how I feel
On the inside.
I last felt like this
When I was seven,
Summer sun
Endless fun
Through til
I was about eleven.
But, now I've met you
It's like I've died.
Yes died!
And now I'm in heaven.
Phil Hall March 2014
