Sometimes life’s happenings make you snicker, giggle, chuckle, smirk or just exhale particularly forcefully from your protruding facial appendage.
Looking through the courtyard
My gaze is drawn
To the two unclothed people
Frolicking in their kitchen
Wondering if they know
They are putting on a show
For my neighbours and I
Leaves me enough time to conclude
Perhaps time for a hot and steamy
cuppa tea
An older gentleman
With the battle scars of the elements
Crossed upon his brow
Sat opposite me on the metro
And held in his hands
His hard-worked and tough hands
(No ring adorned)
He softly held
A packet of ham from the supermarket
The same way my beloved holds me when I’m down
When all grey becomes bright and colourful
I hope the famed ham was nice:
perhaps it partook in a good sandwich or two,
perhaps he framed it.
Holding banana bread in my hand
A bit soggy, like the weather outside.
The raindrops crumple against the windscreen
as the banana bread crumples in my mouth
It’s more of a squish than a crumple, really.
Not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Driving away from Christmas
Towards Bruges, being
a tourist at home
A glimpse of the cars streaming past
Like the raindrops
(only, thankfully, a bit more stable)
Sitting in the passenger seat,
the well-dressed man’s asleep
His wife, girlfriend, sister?
an earphone hanging from one side
In another car, the BMW driver
grimaces at the greyness of the world
as we pass over the local river.
It’s a funny language, Dutch
like lots of boiled potatoes falling apart
in your mouth
throw in some nails and beer for good measure
adding some nuance for the pronunciation.
I’d keep on writing here, but we’ve arrived
And now it’s time for me to look at pretty houses
As Chris Rea echoes down the street
Hold my banana bread
as I engage in conspicuous capitalism
You, sitting over there with your AirPods in
or you, with those funky glasses
and those trousers retrieved from a dustbin
What are you thinking? How are you doing?
What did you do today?
Yes, the wind was blowing
but weather’s so damn blasé
about the whole thing.
I often wonder what we all go through
John, are you also wondering about life
or maybe your investments failing to accrue
What’s Maria wondering? The same as Sophia?
Yes, he was cute but he’s got a girlfriend
and maybe we should talk about local politics
No, let’s not
What are you listening to, you with your AirPods in?
I hope it’s as nice as as Chopin or Purcell
they didn’t really have auto-tune (it’s a bloody sin)
Or Springsteen, he’s pretty good
when you’re in the right mood
I’ll never know anyway
maybe it doesn’t matter
It’s fun to think, though,
of our collective cranial banter
It’s been many months since
—you could say “an elapsed ellipsis”—
I have felt like this towards
towards a most resplendent lady
And this time—despite having
caught the monarch butterfly migration in my stomach
I don’t feel paralysed
Excited, scared—good scared—maybe
But not petrified, worried or anxious
okay, maybe yes anxious
But she’s beautiful, she’s many things,
she is her—and that’s true beauty.
Check in with me next week. I hope to have an answer.
Worst case, it’s good to keep your heart pace up:
like at the gym but kostnadsfri!
There’s nothing quite like a bit of Rachwhat’shisname
That Russian guy,
Not the Chai guy, the other,
Not Theother, no! (although sounds like Theodore)
Pro-cough guy? no, not him,
different guy
why are they all guys hm?
Good thing society’s evolved now.
Right, so famous contemporary Russians:
Putty-guy must have a lot of putty
but who else is there
must’ve been a -kovcoughovoff somewhere.
So this Rachamagicoff guy I’m telling you
he’s pretty good!
This poem is rather different from some of the other ones I have written, as you might notice. That’s why it’s marked as ‘experimental’.
On this eve of the New Year,
Now is the time to reminisce,
Now is the time to cry
Now is the time to wave 2020 goodbye!
Cheesy rhymes put away
keeping those urges at bay
just kidding—definitely not
I’d get my brain in a knot!
As I was saying
before my words started rhyming
This is the end of a hell of a year
A new one is here
almost, within touching distance
let’s hope it’s different than last one, good riddance!
Let me tell you:
when you meet a friend, kindred spirit or someone special
don’t—whatever you do,
start cracking economics jokes.
Their demand is in low supply
and people’s humour for them even more;
they’ll all just say “bye”
with a rather sullen face.
You might call that a negative externality;
let me tell you: stop.
We all know of your fantastic ability
but one’s enough.
Diversification of your jokes is key
much like many things in life
and your inability to see
past macro is, um, a problem.
So next time you see your grandma or next Juliet,
please err away from trade surpluses
or anything remotely soviet.
You’ll thank me later.
I’m a magician
pulling words out of a hat
not knowing if it’s going to be a brick
or a cat.
I pull religiously everyday
even Jesus would raise his brows
pulling strings
and threading them into bows.
One fateful day I put my whole hand in
rumbling, fumbling around
just empty air
not a single sound
Oh wait! There’s something!
Hard as stone but firm
It’s a bit of Lego—
I can use it to finish
building this poem!