I don’t tell a soul.
I just breathe a sigh as I
Look into their eyes
A private moment,
Awkward, erotic, secret.
This is ours to keep.
As the moment ends,
They leave, confused and hungry.
They don’t tell a soul
Question from Michael Clark from Facebook
I love you a number that’s incalculable.
It may sound unfathomable,
Bordering on inconceivable,
But a number is not believable.
Because love is immeasurable,
But if this answer isn’t pleasurable,
Placing a value is not applicable
Trying would only be despicable.
Sweetie, you are adorable
Even when you’re inconsolable
But I can’t say something numerical
Because that would be heretical.
Darling, please be flexible.
It really isn’t personal.
Please don’t hold me responsible
For this answer diabolical.
I’m sorry it isn’t palatable,
This doesn’t make us incompatible.
But I don’t have an example
Of a value that is ample.
I’m not acting feeble,
You’re being unbelievable,
This situation’s laughable,
Here’s an answer that is passable:
I love you a number that’s incalculable
It may sound unfathomable,
Bordering on inconceivable,
But one hundred sounds believable.
Question from Kirsty E. from Facebook.
I understand it’s confusing,
But due to recent changes
To their life and lifestyle
The Doctor will now be using
This bathroom instead of that one.
Oh my God, Dave, that’s so racist.
You can’t say that anymore.
Smurfs are people and hey can be here,
There’s no place for this level of xenophobia.
It’s the twenty-first century now.
He has tried his damn best,
He has been sticking to a strict regime
Of diet and exercise.
Addiction is a serious issue,
Cookie, you are not a monster
Stop judging people by the colour
Of their skin, fur, or exoskeleton.
Stop judging people by their
Problems, gender, or species.
Blue people are people too.
Question from Kate K.
In my room,
I have a portal to another world
And a solar system on my shelf.
A personal Eden
Built of recycled trees
And knowledge devoid of sin.
From whirlwind romances
To hideous creatures,
From nightmareish circuses
To heavenly prisons,
I have scoured, sought and salvaged
To create the greatest collection of all.
I am the Tolkein dragon of today,
But I don’t wear my leather-bound armour
And my treasure isn’t made of gold.
A modern day book-wyrm,
Fiercely protective and inherently selfish
When it comes to my “babies”.
They are more than just trophies,
They don’t just hang on my wall
Like a perverse, forgotten decoration.
Despite the landscape of spines
And the paperback mountains that litter the floor
I do pick up my portable adventures to the unknown.
I have dared to cross Charybdis,
And traversed the mountains of Transylvania,
I have sought sanctuary in the halls of Notre-Dame,
And battled basilisks and defeated death.
Stared down demon clowns and walked into the wild,
And despite the fear and danger, I always want more.
My vast wealth is now only measurable
In Penguin Classics and First Editions.
My desire for creativity without being creative
Has resulted in always wanting more,
A prison with bars made of pages,
A literal literary addiction.
So my wings, claws and eyes
Are always open wide,
Hunting for the next treasure
For my private and precious collection.
My hunger is ravenous, my thirst is unquenched.
No bookshop is safe.
Question from Audrey J. from Facebook
Sir, if you expect me to grovel,
Then I shall exceed expectations.
I routinely aim to exceed expectations,
If I was a Charles Dickens novel,
I would be Great Expectations.
I feel it should be expected
That I am expected to exceed expectations
And I expect that you agree,
And we can both agree on
Expectations I can exceed.
I feel that we can
Expand into the international market.
I know you don’t actually sell anything
But there’s a market for that.
There’s an app for that.
We can make an app for that.
There’s a market for an app
For people looking for a market
To make an app for,
And I can help with that.
This is a company that has family values
And I can relate to that.
I will relate to that,
I have relatives and relations that
Let me relate to that
On a relateable level
So I would be a perfect fit
Because we relate to each other
When it comes to building strong relationships.
Sir, if you expect me to grovel,
I will, but in all honesty,
I’m just in this for the money.
Question from a recent job interview. Â
Child,
I gave you warmth,
I gave you nourishment,
I did not give you my brain.
If I had, you wouldn’t ask this.
Child,
You have your father’s brain,
It’s as plain as the hose on your face.
Which you also inheritated from your father.
I can say you are definitely more like your father.
Child,
Did I give you my intrigue,
Or did your dad give you stupidity?
Why do you ask the most ridiculous things,
I heard you ask why the triangle had four sides.
Child,
It was a fucking square.
Why couldn’t you be a square?
I’m not angry at you sweetie, I promise.
I blame your father. I definitely blame your father.
Child,
You’re seventeen now,
You asked me how to spell DNA.
Not Deoxyribonucleic acid, the letters, DNA.
You make me want to test you to see if you have my DNA.
Child,
I didn’t give you my brain,
I didn’t give your brother my brain
Damn Kenneth, I didn’t give you my brain
But I swear you’re definitely making me lose it.
Question from Amanda P. from Facebook
Jesus H. Christ,
You know how to pick your moments.
I wish I could say that
I haven’t given it much thought,
But for thirteen years
It was all I could think about.
Don’t complain at me for being morbid,
You brought the subject up.
It might take me a while to get to the answer,
But I’m hoping it’ll take a while for it happen
So let’s take a moment as I
Wax lyrical about the great inevitable.
So for music,
Have the organist play
“Phantom of the Opera” and “Whiter Shade of Pale”.
I cannot abide “Abide With Me”
I may believe in reincarnation,
But damnit I will circumvent my own cycle to haunt you.
Please don’t tell stories of what I did during life,
There’s a whole lot I don’t intend to tell my husband or wife.
No prayers and no sermons, avoid all religion,
Just avoid any talking at all,
I don’t want to take up your time,
You’ve got shit to do.
And when they drop me in the flames,
Use Doritos for kindling,
Chilli Heatwave not Nacho Cheese.
You’ve got to have standards afterall.
Play the Countdown theme as the flames take me,
Never let anyone say I never had whimsy.
If you must have a wake,
No booze, because I’m a dick.
And fill a pinata with bees.
Be happy but not too happy.
Play 90s dance anthems and
Rave on my grave.
And while all this is happening,
I’ll get to be alone.
Because while they’ve been
Crying and reflecting,
And going insane with my shitty choices,
I’ll be secretly being buried at sea.
Question overheard on a bus. People are weird.
I saw the sheets, Dave,
You left your crumbs in our bed
That was our bed,
We made love like an over making bread,
It was hot and rising,
And maybe a little yeasty at times,
But how could you taint it with another essence?
Is this why you got the second bank account?
To fund your filthy problem?
I can’t look at you,
I can see it on your lips,
I can smell it on your hreath,
Like a battery left to leak in the sun,
A blend of acid and ass
I can compromise,
You can buy the crunchy peanut butter
Even though I prefer the smooth.
Even though the bits get stuck
To you dentures and I can’t kiss you,
I’d rather have a thousand nuts in my mouth
Than let you kill me in this way.
Why is Fido licking the knife?
You took the dog too?
He was an innocent child,
He wasn’t a pawn for you to play with,
My sense of smell is not a pawn for you to play with,
Did you even think about me?
No, it was always about you,
It’s always take, take, and take with you,
You never think about me, Dave.
You took away my Nutella
But that wasn’t enough
Did you have to take away my Biscoff?
I am the only sweet thing in your life you can spread
But I’ll be damned if I let you do that again.
Is this over, Dave?
We used to be like bread and butter,
Now you’ve gone and found another.
How can you do this to me?
How can you bring this cancer into our bed?
How can you love Vegemite?
It’s over, Dave.
Question inspired by Amanda F. Palmer
In Haiku form.
In his special way,
He guards the stove and toaster
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.
Arsenal of spoons,
Crown made of foil, forks and card,
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.
You enter his realm,
Cutlery and insults fly,
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.
“Gerrout my kitchen!”
He shouts, as marmite hits you.
Hail, Kitchen Goblin
You fight ’til first sauce,
Your shirt reddens with ragu,
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.
He squeaks out, “Fuck Off!”
You run, embarrased and bruised.
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.
From my mate, Dave.
I’m sure we can answer this
With simple logistics and mathematics.
If an adult diplodocus is ten to twelve tonnes,
How much would it weigh when it was young?
Now a baby diplodocus would be very small,
Five feet from the ground, that’s not big at all!
But an adult diplodocus, well they were huge
They were bigger than me and bigger than you!
They were ninety foot tall, as tall as the trees
So the diplodocus would eat all their leaves.
But a teenager, what about their weight and size?
Well now we’ll find out, I won’t tell you lies!
A teenage diplodocus is somewhere between,
They’d be pretty tall and they’d be pretty lean.
A teenager would be about two thirds of the size
So let’s use some maths and start to divide
Two thirds of twelve tonnes, well that would be eight
But let’s find the height as well as the weight
Two thirds of ninety, that’s sixty feet tall
So they wouldn’t be big but they wouldn’t be small.
So know we know what a teen diplodocus would weigh,
I hope you had fun, now have a great day!
Question from Alice F. from Facebook!
Mxcellany - Poetry, Music, Art 