Poetry - February 2009

Snow Joke

The white stuff falls overnight
As everyone wonders at the sight
But do they really just know
Why everyone loves the snow?
Is it because it seems picturesque
To have the Winter feeling, by eck,
Or is it because there's a chance
Of a day off work for some time for romance
Or if you prefer, playing in the snow
And building snowmen till the cold hands blow
But there's chaos on the roads around
As the blackest of ice sets on the ground
There's crashes and abandonments abound
Which leaves you feeling quite profound
That a little bit of snowy weather
Seems to stop England altogether
Even though the gritting lorries seemed to be out
Their salt based mixture had very little clout
But you get on with the day in the snow
Because it feels quite oh so wintry, you know!

(I dunno, a falling of snowflakes and everyone gets into a tizzy really. The roads are shut, someone built a large snow penis in one of the local parks and the London-based media say that London's at a standstill because it happened to fall there. Ho hum.)

Going Back To Tottenham

You left White Hart Lane with the promise
That your career would get better elsewhere
Your agent probably brokered the deal
That said you'd earn much more over there
But six months on, it's become a nightmare
You aren't getting first team football at all
And no matter what you do to get in the team
You feel like you're hitting a brick wall
So when your former club comes in with a bid
That seems a sensible amount to be had
You wonder whether you could redeem the mistake
And try and make amends with the fans - who're glad
That you've seen sense and made the trip back
To the N17 of North London town
Leaving behind a team that's struggling
And possibly faced with relegation going down
Or one that the squad was too big to have you
Commanding a first team place all the time
But now you feel back home with it all to prove
And your finishing there was completely sublime.

(Seems everyone is going back to Tottenham in the recent transfer window - first Jermain Defoe, then Pascal Chimbonda and now Robbie Keane....)

Wii Are Addicted

It's got the just one more go factor
As you attempt to beat your best score
Even though the golf is quite hard at first
As your first nine holes score plus four
You're determined not to give up at all
And carry on learning the controls
Until you've mastered how to hit the ball
So you have delicate chips and ball rolls
Then you move on to another game
And put what you've learnt into practice
Your friends are amazed at your prowess
As you show that the bowling is pure bliss
But be warned when playing the tennis
As some people hit the ball hard and fast
The controller is flung furiously
And hits the left elbow with a really hard blast
Nonetheless I can't complain
It's all so much good old fashioned fun
No wonder everyone seems to be playing the Wii
Makes me so glad I went and got one.

(It goes to show just why the Wii is so popular - there's the one more go factor, there's the controls and then there's the multiplayer modes - all ace.)

I Can't Write A Love Song

Been trying to write a love song
But I'm getting the words all wrong
I want to tell you how I feel
But nothing I write feels competely real
I want to tell it from the heart
But everything I write falls apart
It doesn't quite fit what I had in mind
And I don't want to be an axe to grind
I just don't think I can write what I want to
Because I'm thinking too hard and true
I know what I want to say most of all
And that's driving me up the wall
Because I know how I feel about you
And I know that you feel that way too
But it's describing those feelings in a way
That you can take them with you and stay
I know what I like and I like what I know
That you're so lovely and I have that glow
No matter how hard I try I can't find the words
I know they're in my head: it's so absurd
It's like you have an effect on me
That I can't get the right words out, you see
I want to say what I want that's right
And not anything that's too flirty or trite
But just my deep down feelings that I have
And I know that I'm on the right path
I can't write a love song, I know now
And that much is oh so true I vow
But I do know one thing that is true
And that is I know how to love you.

(Makes me wonder how these songwriters who write love songs must burn lean tissue in order to achieve something special that millions of romantics take to their hearts. Well, with it being the love month (supposedly) my sort of take on how hard it is to write a love song, even if there's somone to love.)

Soccer Saturday Haiku

Jeff, they're fighting like beavers
And it's a bad miss.

(Ah, Chris Kamara on Soccer Saturday on Sky Sports. Unbelievable!)