When Kate and I got married we were young and we were stupid,
Two kids convinced our love would be the strongest in the land.
We thought that we were special, that our love was bound by Cupid,
But life just didn’t pan out in the way that we had planned.
Years went by, the kids arrived, we slipped into a funk,
We started talking less and less, as many find is true,
But then I really slipped up when, while really really drunk,
I got off with the intern at the office Christmas do.
I staggered home, my eye bright red, my speech a drunken slur,
We had a massive argument, the word “divorce” arose.
Proceedings came, proceedings went, the kids would go with her.
I wept in court, a salty torrent running down my nose.
That night, when I got home into the bedsit where I’d moved,
I vowed that I’d be better than I ever had before.
I read some self-improvement books, and think that I improved –
I even joined a gym (although my depth-perception’s poor).
I got a posher haircut, now I moisturise and cleanse,
I’m working on my diet – healthy body, healthy mind.
I went to the opticians, got a massive contact lens
(Though opticians that did contacts quite so big were hard to find).
I think I’m doing well, and really feel that I’m proceeding –
The break-up really showed me what’s important in my life.
I’m trying to be better, and I think that I’m succeeding,
And getting on amazingly with Kate my former wife.
The highlight of my month is when the kiddies come on by,
I always have fun things to do when they come round and stay.
I get them for the weekend, though because I’ve got one eye,
It feels as though I’ve only got to see them for a day.
Posts Tagged ‘Creatures We’ll Never See
Unicorn
The horn on my head prevents me from kissing,
Though there’s no-one to kiss if the horn wasn’t there.
I watch people do it, and see what I’m missing;
As a mythical creature, companions are rare.
The horses don’t like me, they think that I’m weird –
I’m bored and I’m tired of this lonely confusion.
I’m cloven of hoof with a billy-goat beard,
Alone in this world with my forehead protrusion.
People adore me and think that I’m magic.
They see me and stand there, their faces agog.
The truth is, however, my social life’s tragic –
I’m sad and I’m lonely and craving a snog.
Hardcore Leprechaun
A pot of gold, some lucky charms,
A Guinness clutched in outstretched arms.
Enormous biceps, tattooed knuckles,
Four-leafed clover, shoes with buckles.
Dodo
We lived on a rock in the Indian Ocean,
When some sailors arrived and caused quite a commotion.
We thought we were food when they came to our isle,
But they ate very few of us – dodos taste vile.
But they’d brought with them dogs to whom we were delicious,
And soon dogs were running amok on Mauritius.
Perhaps if our wings were conducive to flying,
A few of us might have escaped without dying.
But no, as it was, we were soon all destroyed,
And the world had an empty and dodo-shaped void.
Yackety schmackety,
Mort Pterodactyl was
Having a chat with his
Childhood friend Saul.
“Some say we’re dinosaurs
But they’re mistaken, we’re
Identifiably
Not that at all”.
Minotaur
My mum’s a queen, my dad’s a bull,
My days and nights are mostly full
Morosely mooching round my maze,
My horned head hung in sad malaise.
My step-dad had this structure built
To keep me hidden, spare Mum’s guilt
At bringing him so much disgrace
And leading to my taurine face.
I eat the folks that come to visit,
But really that’s not my fault, is it?
It’s just there’s nothing else to eat,
Entrapped within a maze in Crete.
Stegosaurus
I’m really old, completely dead,
An armour-plated quadruped.
I spend my time just wandering round,
My belly inches from the ground.
I count among my many likes
Grass and big defensive spikes,
While numbering among my hates
Are creatures with no dermal plates.
Hunger
Because I never went to college,
I’ll eat your brains, absorb your knowledge.
I am mighty, you are puny,
And now it’s like I went to uni.
Desmond Is A Zombie
Desmond is a zombie.
He lives inside a grave.
I rarely go to visit him
Because I’m not that brave.
There’s issues too with hygiene –
He doesn’t smell too fresh.
I think it’s mainly caused by
Des’s decomposing flesh.
I only feel prepared to face
That rotten rancid funk
When trying to impress a girl
Or when I’m really drunk.
The Octopig
Beware the Octopig, my son.
The Octopig is full of cunning.
If you see the Octopig,
Turn around, commence some running.
The Octopig is not like us.
Not for him are daylight hours;
Not till the night does – oh my word!
The Octopig display his powers.
The foul flesh of the Octopig
Will withstand all that man can make,
Indeed there is no limit to
The punishment that it can take.
And when the Octopig attacks,
Why then, son, ’tis no time to pause,
For the Octopig attacks you with
Not one, not two, but eight long claws,
And each claw of the Octopig’s
Is poison-tipped with foul green point
That’s cured by no known medicine
That any doctor can anoint.
The Octopig is cursed, my son,
To roam the earth till Judgement Day,
Snorting through its foul red snout
In the most disturbing, hellish way.
I bid you please, my precious son,
Avoid the forest lands at night,
Lest you wind up victim to
The Octopig’s unearthly bite.
Please hold it in your mind, my son
That any man, however big
Or strong he feels he is, my boy,
Is frightened of the Octopig.
