Saturday, 30 May 2015

Largely wined and unrefined by Grant Harbison

“Who the bleedin’ ‘ell stole me syrup of figs?” exclaimed the duchess when she realised she’d lost her purchase of wigs.
The customers were shocked when the accusation rang.
For here was the duchess speaking Cockney rhyming slang.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” cried the manageress in despair. “This is a refined department store. I’m sure no one would dare.”
“I want me syrups now you snotty little cow!” screamed the duchess amid horrified stares. “Or I’ll kick your scrawny butt down the apples and pears!”
“My dear duchess, please don’t make a scene. Can you kindly try and remember when they were last seen.”
“After I bought them I went back to the aisles, because I’d forgotten to get cream for me Farmer Giles. I then saw some ties that would really suit the duke, so I went to the display to ‘ave a butcher’s ‘ook. But why are you still ‘ere, why are you ‘angin’ around? I want me bleedin’ syrups and I want them found.”
“Our people are searching throughout the store. I’m here in case you remember anymore.”
“Well I remember I was with the duke, the drunken ol’ dog. And I remember ‘avin’ to go to the Kermit Frog. I was in a bit of an ‘urry because of a dodgy Ruby Murray...Wait I’ve got it now. I really can be a silly cow. ‘E went to look for socks and ‘e took my box. ‘E’s the bugger who’s got the locks.”
“Duchess, I’ll get an assistant to take a look. It shouldn’t take him long to find the duke.”
“Fine, fine, fine. Make it quick and get what is mine.”
She motioned for a young man to come to her aid as she wouldn’t be able to withstand another tirade.
“Find the duke, find him quick,” she said. “Because that drunken witch is getting on my wick. And when you come back with the stupid old git, get rid of him and get rid of it. How you do it I don’t give a Tom kit, but if it doesn’t happen soon I’ll have a screaming fit.”

The bald and the beautiful by Grant Harbison

Kojak was married to Goldilocks but the honeymoon was a flop
For he was constantly sucking on a cherry lollipop
And she wouldn’t stop rambling about a previous affair
With a rich tycoon called Sugar Daddy Bear
There were other factors too that led to their frustration
One of them being that there was no consummation
He wanted her and she said, “Maybe.”
But he did drive her nuts with his, “Who loves ya, baby.”
To be perfectly honest they got on each other’s goats
And the gruel was cruel as no one got their oats
Eventually it was evident that none seemed to care
And he’d wake up some nights and find she wasn’t there
That’s when he decided that he didn’t give a toss
And decided to have fun and invite Stavros
Every single night they painted the town red
And Goldilocks didn’t care where she laid her head
On the last day of the vacation she eventually returned
And both stared at one another like lovers spurned
After a brief conversation and their situation mulled
Both of them agreed to have the marriage annulled  

Thursday, 28 May 2015

Hare piece by Grant Harbison

“You are late!” screamed the rabbit. “This is becoming a habit!”

“It’s not my fault!” cried the hare. “I had a flat tyre and I needed a spare!”

“Another likely tale. Your feeble excuses are becoming quite stale.”

“I swear it’s the truth. I tell you no lies,” said the hare with a look of surprise.

“I know that look and you’re scratching an itch. Even your nose is starting to twitch.”

“Okay, I stopped for a drink at The Palace Bar. I got a bit parched after sorting the car.”

“What were you doing in a place like that? Don’t tell me you were lured by the scoundrel with the hat.”

“I don’t know what you don’t like about Maddy Hatter. The old guy’s alright. It’s just his patter.”

“What about the queens and the tarts at The Palace? Oh, and that despicable girl, the one they call Alice.”

“Alice? Is she the one who pops pills and puffs on a chalice?”

“You know who I mean, you sneaky little hare. Do I detect a look of guilt? Are you having an affair?”

“Of course not, honey. You’re my sweet little bunny. I swear that I would never dare.”

“Keep that in mind, for if that I do find, I’ll sever your pole and send you to another hole.”

So happily they lived until the lies unfolded

It’s too gruesome to relate, but he was more than scolded

He’s now found himself another hole

Just down the road with a buck toothed mole

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Love by Grant Harbison

Love doesn’t judge
Nor hold a grudge
It’s a force within us all
Large and small
It’s what makes the world go around
A mighty force that never makes a sound
It’s free to give
And a joy to receive
It may bring us sorrow
But doesn’t deceive
We may ask its reasons
We may vent our wrath
But it’s forever on our side
To find the right path
One we may recognise later in life
When life could have gone wrong
Heartache and strife
Something to contemplate
Love may be hard
But it’s so easy to hate

Sunday, 24 May 2015

Glisten by Grant Harbison

A line in time prevents the crime
Anything is possible when words don’t rhyme
I rant and bicker and pull on my hair
Am I hackneyed, boring or threadbare?
Is it good enough?
I’m never quite sure
My alternative poems are far from pure
I’m just glad that you read and listen
That appreciation makes me glisten
And that my friends thrills me to the core
And I’ll do my best to give you more 

Valentine by Grant Harbison

She left everything to chance
The chance for romance
And that night’s blind date
She began to anticipate
There was that glimmer of hope that he could be the one
But if that didn’t happen
She was determined to have fun
When they met she was pleasantly surprised
He was well-mannered and cultured
Not what she’d surmised
And although it wasn’t love at first sight
Her feeling was good
Something felt right
The night started well
He was so full of fun
So charming and gentle
She thought he was the one
But he hid the monster well
It was all a charade
And not easy to tell
Like others before her
She was easily swayed
And for that naivety 
Her life she paid
And just like the others
She never saw the signs
Another of his victims
His bloody Valentines

Friday, 22 May 2015

Children of the grave by Grant Harbison

Survival means all wrong doing
But what do you care?
It’d be easier for you if we weren’t there
We are the scourge
We are the infected
Streetwise kids
The sons and daughters who decided to roam
Each with reasons for leaving home
Years of abuse
Physical violence
Threats of death to keep our silence
Life on the streets may be mean
But what we’ve been through and what we have seen
Makes us cling to one another
Children lost
Sisters and brothers

Wednesday, 20 May 2015

Think before you fink by Grant Harbison

Aye, I am a man of deep thinking
But ne’er have I sunk to the nadirs of finking
A descent so far below
The leagues where Captain Nemo dared to go
Yet cupidity still commands the canary curse
And inveigled by the proffered purse
The tattler tweets and sings his song
Blithe and indifferent to right and wrong
But anonymity can never last
And when the present presents the past
When the treachery is revealed
The fate of the Judas is well and truly sealed

Bad news by Grant Harbison

I know you love my hair
And I’m sure you love my teeth
But I bet you’d like to know what lies underneath
Should I give you a clue?
After all it’s only you
I love my life and I love my power
I feel it surge during my morning shower
I love my job and hope for a death
I always hope it’s gruesome so that I can gasp for breath
Now don’t get upset
I don’t need any blues
I’m just a reporter for the TV news 

Saturday, 16 May 2015

Jason and the argue not by Grant Harbison

“Jason!” screamed Medea with extreme irritation. “Let go of the dragon, you've missed the station!”
“Hush now, Medea, you’re driving me insane! All you ever do is rabbit and complain. If you think you can do better, then you take the rein. Remember this is a chariot, not a bloody train!”
“Don’t you holler and don’t you cuss. I know sometimes I can make a fuss, but you should have listened to me when I suggested the bus.”
“I thought it would be easier to fly, even if your dragon is blind in one eye. But it seems like that’s not its only imperfection. It keeps veering off in the opposite direction. I wasn't expecting such a silly dragon. Either it’s old or it’s drunk from my flagon.”
“Jason, don’t be cruel. Puffy’s not old. It’s just now and then that his breath goes cold. When I say let go then he’ll take us below. He doesn't like you pulling when his mouth is cooling.”
I've never heard such drivel in all of my life and I think I might regret having you as a wife. It seemed like a good decision when we decided to elope, but seeing your true colours, I doubt if I’ll cope.”
“So you’re planning to leave me? I had a slight notion. That’s why I filled your flagon with potion. I made that decision when you insisted we fly. I make the decisions; you had no right to defy. So now it’s time to bid you goodbye, for as soon as we reach the ground, you’re probably going to die.”   

Friday, 15 May 2015

Dog eat dog by Grant Harbison

Amidst the jeers and cheers I hear your cries of pain
Why must I do this time and again?
Forgive me brother I had no choice
I’m bound to obedience and my master’s voice
Although it’s them that should be taking the blame
I still hang my canine head in shame
This is what I go through night after night
For a bowl of food I’m forced to fight
Was it the puppy love that made me blind?
For I never would have imagined man to be unkind
Lay still my friend
Rest your head
Moments from now you will be free and dead
My life will continue in fear and dread
But just for now I’ll be glad to be fed

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

In a lonely place by Grant Harbison

I should be glad to see the back of a life filled with sorrow
But anxiety consumes me when I think of tomorrow
Is it doggedness that keeps us clinging to life?
Even one so wretched and torn with strife
Does fortitude pervade us until that final breath?
Stubbornly trying to resist the finality of death
My fate is sealed and I no longer have a choice
The Samaritans fighting injustice have lost their voice
They really tried their best but it didn’t go to plan
But at least they believe that I’m an innocent man
The hardest part was my family and saying our last goodbyes
And those final embraces with tears in our eyes
It was then it hit me that this is all real
And I couldn’t even eat my very last meal
Tonight I’ll stay awake and watch the hours go by
Waiting for that time when morning is nigh
Consciously aware of every single breath
Knowing they will get deeper as I approach death

Tuesday, 12 May 2015

Rant and rave by Grant Harbison

I skimmed a glance over the dance



Void of romance

No tangos

No foxtrots

Nor waltz of the Viennese

Just animated clowns raving on E’s

Pulsating beat swept through the crowd

The sound was insipid

Repetitive and loud



Offending my lugs

Appreciate this?

Not even with drugs

I’m not out of touch

Nor am I too old

This kind of trash just leaves me cold

Without further ado I headed for the door

And began to yawn

Oh what a bore

Sunday, 10 May 2015

The pain of your disdain by Grant Harbison

Scathing words spew forth from your malevolent lips

Drenching me with their vile vitriol

Seeking to fuel my discontent

Trying to belittle and degrade

With your senseless tirade

Over and over you mock and you spurn

Craving my indignation

Or some form of retaliation

But I simply ignore

To avoid a furore

There is nothing to gain

And as I walk out the front door

And into the rain

I feel the blossoming pain

Of your disdain 

Saturday, 9 May 2015

Snitch with and itch by Grant Harbison

“I need another fix!” screeched the snitch. “The whole of my body is starting to itch. My head is pounding and I want to be sick. Prick me with that thing and make it quick!”
“The only thing I’ll prick you with is broken glass!” growled the dealer. “If there’s anything worse than a junkie, it’s a bloody junkie grass!”
“I know it was foolish and I was a little rash, but I've already been punished. I've already got the gash.”
“If you ever grassed me up, I’d do more than slit your face. I’d cut you up in pieces and I wouldn't leave a trace.”
“I’d never do that to the hand that feeds. Only you can ease my pain and satisfy my needs.”
“You’re the lowest of the low, you are worse than pond scum. You’ll do anything for a fix; even sell your mum. I don’t give a damn and you can grovel and you can plead. Find another dealer to gratify your need.”
“Please don’t be like that, I really need a hit. Acid, crack and smack. I’ll buy more than just a bit.”
“Even if you offered me thousands, I wouldn't take your cash. You’re a snivelling little squealer and I won’t even sell you hash.”   

Thursday, 7 May 2015

Krayfish by Grant Harbison

“Cor blimey, them oysters are slimy, and that cod is a little odd,” cried little Mo Barrow, the Cockney sparrow.
“Come on, luv,” protested Bash the Slash. “It’s quality stuff I got from the guv.”   
“Not another present from them bleedin’ Krays. All you do is sing their praise.”
“Ain’t many blokes like that in this day and age. They’re real smart geezers and pay me wage.”
“Yeah, and I’m 'er indoors, the stupid bleedin’ wife, with an 'usband that goes to work with a Stanley knife.”
“Oh stop bleedin’ moanin’, my trouble an’ strife. All I’m tryin’ to do is give us a life.”  
“Yeah, one behind bars, and they’ll still have their clubs and their fancy cars.”
“Someone 'as to do it, do them jobs. Someone 'as to be tough and sort out them yobs.”
“Just dirty work that both of them shirk. If they’re the big bad brothers, 'ow come they still cower in front of mother?”

Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Maritime by Grant Harbison

A cormorant dived down and cleaved the virgin wave

Boring its hooked beak and elongated neck through the crest of the breaker

Before the cascading water foamed and rushed towards a sandy shoreline

Stars filled the sky

And the light of the pallid moon glistened on the icy water

Generating a silvery hue

A flock of seagulls screeched and swooped down on a walkway adjacent to the shore

Grappling for tiny morsels on the ground

A lighthouse beamed bright for a vessel sailing in to dock

And its light briefly captured a pier

Where lovers stood entwined osculating under the moonlit night

Monday, 4 May 2015

Vengeance comes from she who waits by Grant Harbison

She remembers being nervous on her first day

But she never expected the trials that would come her way

The uniform made her look like a Playboy bunny

She cringed but wore it for she needed the money

She was rushed off her feet

But really did her best

And right from the start she was put to the test

Attending to drinks and serving meals

Trying not to trip with her stiletto heels

Trying to ignore suggestive remarks

Macho wolf whistles and chauvinist barks

Through all that she still managed to cope

Simply relieved that none tried to grope

But all that changed when he walked in

Malevolent eyes and a lustful grin

She went to take his order and he instantly started to flirt

And recoiled in disgust when his hand brushed her skirt

She quickly took his order and then walked away

And thought about ways of making him pay

As soon as she came back with a bottle of beer

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her near

She decided there and then to carry out her plan

She wanted to get back at this despicable man

What she did was extremely rude

And one should never ever do that to food

But she thought that he deserved what he got

The ghastly groper

The slimy old sot

Saturday, 2 May 2015

Bumps in the night by Gran Harbison

She’d gone bump in the night

Bumped me quite hard

As I’d awoken with fright                                     

What happened next was the last thing I’d expected

If I’d been a little more vigilant I could have detected

When she’d connected my eye with a mighty thump

I’d slipped off the bed and come down on my rump

As I’d sat on the floor bewildered and sore

I’d stared in disbelief as she proceeded to snore

The whole scenario had been really quite incredulous

How could she have been asleep and been totally oblivious?

I’d pondered the situation and to myself did decree

That it would really be best if I slept on the settee

On a night like that I wouldn’t be missed

And I’d be totally safe from an elbow or fist

When she’d awoken the very next day

She’d given me a look of utter dismay

I’d told her that there was no reason for alarm

I’d totally forgiven as she’d meant me no harm

Darkness by Grant Harbison

Darkness spray has gone astray
But the showery bastard loves to play
So when I can
I bask in the light
Seize its warmth
With transient delight
This ethereal space
And fleeting grace
Brings forth laughter
Saving face
But more than often
And with no explanation
I’m soaked in misery
Dark precipitation