I was watching 'Eggheads' the other night, because I couldn't sleep. I then wrote three poems relating to 'Eggheads'. I hasten to add the words in these poems are in no way indicative of the characters of the actual Eggheads, who I'm sure are wholesome, professional people.
Eggheads one.
Judith from Eggheads sat alone.
Daphne (from Eggheads) ambled past.
Judith coughed.
Daphne pretended not to notice her.
But she had noticed.
She had noticed.
Eggheads two
CJ and Kevin on a lawn,
Playing lawn tennis.
Kevin loses a point,
Picks up the ball, folornly.
But a happy day, a joyous scene!
Later, whilst taking drinks,
Their hands brush. Their eyes meet.
Why doesn't he just kiss me?, thinks CJ.
Why don't I make my move? - Kevin - Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But the moment had passed,
And it was CJ's serve.
Eggheads three
Chris wheezed as he stood. His tongue, lolling.
Sweat oozed from his bald scalp,
Forming drips and drops that dripped and dropped onto the leather of the sofa.
He picked up an apple. Tossed it, casually, in the air.
Caught it, calmly. His gaze elswhere.
'Same time tomorrow?' He implored, putting on his glasses.
'Yes,' replied Daphne, with a wry smile, tugging up her gusset.
Barry watched on, seething with envy.
Another normal day,
In Eden.
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6 comments:
O.. M.. G..
Will one ever be able to watch that programme again?
Why don't they rhyme?
Artistic License. Not all poetry has to rhyme, Jon!
Where do I get this artistic license? Would I have to pass a test?
It's in you. It's always been in you.
Syphilis?
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