Posts Tagged ‘Poem’

One Night in Derby – Part 2

June 20, 2010
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I wandered lonely as a cloud, along the Derby streets
As if I’d fallen from the sky, shaken free by techno beats
(If you will remember, I had left the warmth of Fusion,
With three hours still to go before the night reached its conclusion…)
 
 ————————-
 
Salvation came in the shape of a bar which was named the Flaming Fox
Referring, I supposed, to the barmaid, whose smile could have melted rocks
I settled myself at the edge of the room, and got out my notebook
Figuring I would do some work, make the most of my bad luck
 
But it wasn’t long before I was approached by one of the in-house bouncers
Who’d seen me writing in a book, and had come looking for some answers
“Are you an inspector or something?” He asked me, to my surprise
“No,” I responded, then instantly thought of many better replies
 
About ten minutes later, it was the barmaid who ambled over
And we chatted nonsense for a while, me glad that I was sober
She went away for a few minutes more, and then, upon returning
She turned my head and kissed me, leaving my cheeks fairly burning
 
“Keep up the good work,” she said with a grin, and slinked back to the bar
While I smiled like a lunatic – best moment of the night by far!
‘On par with Zeppelin Dude at the least’, I thought, and began to wonder
If any other strangeness would emerge from out of the thunder
 
Lo and behold, the night indeed had one more thing in store
Blasts of cold wind filled the room, and a midget walked through the door
He wandered round the room a bit, and passed me once or twice
So on his third pass I said “Hello”, trying to be nice
 
He said hello back and so I made polite conversation
Feeling rather sorry for his slight air of desperation
However this backfired when he asked me “So… wanna come back to mine?”
I managed to say, with contained shock, that I’d have to decline
 
After that he turned away and left without a word
Just as the dreaded call ‘It’s closing time!’ was heard
Thusly did I head out again into the Derby night
And trudged back to the station, which was a very gloomy sight
 
The only passenger was I, on a train so quiet and dead
That never so eager have I been, to see my single bed
And when finally I did get home, at around half-past seven
The cloudy grey of Leicester dawn looked like the plains of heaven
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—————–
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So that, then, is the story, of what happened on that night
Of shocks and laughs and oddities, and the occasional fright
But should I ever find myself once more stranded in that hell?
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I think I’ll do the sensible thing, and find a good hotel.
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One Night in Derby – Part 1

June 17, 2010

A few entries back, I mentioned that there was a tale-in-waiting which deserved to have an entry dedicated to it. As it turns out, it needs more like two, so here’s part one of that story, dragged out of the dungeons of my memory, 100% true. To set the scene: I was travelling back to Leicester from York by train in horrendous weather, and arrived at the station of a small, grimy town called Derby, where I was to change trains to continue my journey…

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It was a dark and stormy night; I think you know the kind
I watched my connecting train depart… while I’d been left behind
And the story of what happened next I wrote out for you all
But the tale came out so long it would’ve filled the entire wall
So here instead are the events, rewritten in poetry form,
Of what can happen stranded in Derby, in the middle of a storm
Oh, and just one crucial point – to add to my bad luck –
My phone battery had up ‘n died (Yeah I know; I suck 😉 )
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———-
Time: 9:00 pm

At nine o clock I missed my train, the connection had been late
The next one? Half-past five AM; so now, I’m thinking ‘Great...”
Then I saw a pub nearby, and headed towards the lights
To be told: “Closing early, love. Sorry, it’s one of those nights!
You’d best head into town by foot – it’s only half an hour.”
Which was fine, ‘til five minutes in, the sky began to shower
So watch me leg it down Main Street, while folk in taxis gloat
(I’ll leave it up to you to guess, whether I had brought a coat.)
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10:00 pm
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Thankfully I soon found a bar, sporting a sign which said:
“SUNDAY NIGHT IS BAND NIGHT, SO COME IN AND ROCK YOUR HEAD!”
“Band night eh, that doesn’t sound bad,” I thought, with optimism
Then discovered that ignorance is bliss, faced with Nu Metal rhythm.
However there was entertainment to find, in braving these aural assaults
By talking snobbily with some guy, about each band’s musical faults.
He’d been a friend of Robert Plant; so I ensured that we shook hands
While he reminisced about Zeppelin – “So much better than these shitty bands…”
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12:00 am
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That place closed around midnight, so time for some more bar-hopping
But now I had to hurry it up, with the temperature rapidly dropping
And it seemed that a club called ‘Fusion’ was the only available place
So I lingered in its doorway, spine shaking along with the bass.
I was just minding my own business there, when one of the bouncers asked
If I was coming in or not, and I had to convince him fast;
I didn’t have much money left by now, and less desire to spend it here
So I explained myself and pointed out that the weather was quite severe
The doorman laughed at this and then, after talking to his mate,
Suggested I help out on the door – “Beats freezing, at any rate!”
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2:00 am
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So I became a Fusion bouncer – well, at least for a while
Until the nightclub had to close, and I continued on my trial.
Through rain and wind and metal and bass, so far I had survived
I could only hope to hold my ground, until the train arrived.
But there were strange things waiting to happen in the intermittant time
And they my friends, will be the subject, of the next entry’s rhyme…
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The Niggle

September 15, 2009

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There was a new student at Leicester

About to start his first semester

But it quickly became clear

As the beginning drew near

That something was starting to fester

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It was not in his stomach, this niggling new doubt

Nor in his sock pile – which was starting to sprout

Rather it happened to be

(just between you and me)

in his mind, and it made him pout

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Now I’m sure you’ll concur

Both madams, and sirs

That pouting can never be handsome

“But it couldn’t be helped!”

The young man would have yelped

if the issue had been brought to ransom

.

And it may well be, that the gentleman here

Was unable to alter his manner

But the point to be made

As blunt as a spade

Is the fellow’s just being a spanner

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“So why is it,” you’re entitled to ask

“that you mention this dull metaphor?”

“Because,” I’d sigh, in weary reply,

“there are things he’d be much better for.”

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The Beast of Deepest Peru

May 14, 2009

Hello and welcome to any and all who’re stumbling across this place 🙂 Have a poem I scribbled a few months back:

In the shifting sands of the deepest east
lies a very peculiar and unfathomable beast,
who stalks victims with a glint in his eye,
and a gentleman’s gait in his muted stride.

At first you may be fooled by such a courteous gaze,
but know that ’tis as insubstantial as the desert haze
and wouldn’t hesitate a second before taking your life
in a manner much more deadly than any hunting knife.

The common monsters of the world are hideous and warped,
sporting foul unpleasant features, with lumps and eyes that gawp.
This particular individual bears no unsightly demeanour
yet in this world you’re sure to find that there is no fiend meaner.

And dwelleth not in dark cave this most ancient of perils,
nor in a gothic cathedral flanked by coarse demonic heralds
(For such is the force of habit of the very foolish ghoul –
It is a white picket fence that surrounds the evil most cruel).

So as you venture down the busy market streets
perusing oh so gaily the fine selection of meats
remember the tale of the beast of Peru,
who strolls behind, and is looking at you…