Aahlu's Poetry

More Tea?

Oho my dear, I am aware

That many may only sit and stare

At this old man in his chair

Drinking lots of tea.

But yesterday before breakfast I made

An armoured box and forged a blade

Both for the re-enactment trade

While drinking lots of tea

Now here I am at five AM early

In teeshirt and socks, feeling girly

Recalling tools and shavings curly

With another mug of tea

I've a pair of candelabra to make

With iron curled round - like a snake

And thought I'd get up, as I was awake

And make myself some tea.

Then my Everloving, she came down

With a cat, the one that's brown

And together we watched bright Venus drown

In our two cups of tea.

She fades now into soft misty trees

Beyond our hedge where no-one sees

Or feels the faintest, early morning breeze

Save us two with our teas!

© Aahlu. 2009.

Aahlu's Poetry

Let me know what you think!

Tue, 1st June, 2010

Please include the title of the poem you are commenting about!

Wednesday Afternoon and Raining

Wednesday afternoon. 5.17 pm. and Raining!

But…………

We cuddled together

In a dry doorway

Where I kissed her

While the rain poured

The sirens screamed

And blue lights flashed

Splashing eerily

In the wet street.

It seemed a good idea

I was cold, so was she

Tired after a day’s work

Wet from the rain still

Pouring down all over

The street, miserably.

So I kissed her again

In the dry doorway

I hope its not

She said, anyone

I know in that accident

So do I, I replied

And kissed her a third time

While rain still poured

All over the street

The wet, wet street.

Shall we? I asked

Go on? She shook her head

No, no, we’ll get drowned

So we cuddled into

That recessed doorway

While the rain poured

And I kissed her some more

In that dry doorway.

I could get, she said

To like this, do it again

With your tongue like

You did just now

You taste like a chocolate

Chip cookie dipped in coffee

And quite unlike

A wet wet street.

And you taste, I told her

Of this morning’s lipstick

A ham roll for lunch

And seven cups of coffee

She giggled and wriggled

So I kissed her again

And she returned the kiss.

In our dry doorway

I’ve fancied you

She told my ear

Ever since I saw you

In reception with

Your best suit on, shiny shoes

And a brand new shirt

With raindrops staining it

From that wet, wet street.

And I’ve fancied you

I said, licking her nose

Ever since I saw your knickers

When you reloaded the photocopier

The other day.

Those pale blue ones, she giggled

I nodded and kissed her again

In our dry doorway.

I’ve got them on

Again today

She wriggled

Against me

Asking me

To touch her gently, so

I did, and found her nearly

As wet at the wet wet street.

She tasted salty

Down there

Grunting, jerking

What was she thinking

Of, I wondered

Her man at home

Or of me crouching

In that dry doorway.

We missed our lifts needless to say

Cuddled as we were into

Careless cunnilingus

In that dry doorway

While they cleared the wreckage

Of her husbands and my wife’s cars

Off the crossroads

In the pouring rain.

© Aahlu.13.10.2008.

An Old Saw

Fight me?

Bite me?
Lets have tea
Instead, he said
Then go to bed
Its an old saw
So I won’t bore
"Make love not war"

*******

Another Ramble

Many places claim their Robin Hood
While Norfolk has Old Shuck
In Nottingham Robin did much good
In Norfolk he did nothing

But the Shuck Dog kills people on the cliffs
Of this it is no wonder
For when they walk home pissed
He barks and makes them blunder

Thats just like me, what do you know!
I left school at fourteen after a row
With the maths teacher who was a cow
I wasn't one of her favourites.

I haven't stopped learning since that day
I'm widely travelled 'cos I ran away
From hearth and home one morn in May
To seek my fortune elsewhere.

Theres not enough time left I tell you now
To learn astronomy, astrology and how
Exactly one is supposed to milk a cow
Though I can do that already.

The smell of adventure is strong even now
And it is a long time since I milked a cow
But I married a gypsy the first time around
A real one, yes, born on the ground.

That was experience I can tell you of course

While tending yet another bloody horse
In six generations I was the first one to force
The parent to free a daughter from slavery...........

Her schooling was negligible - she did not read
Nor write much more than her name and indeed
Before were married her parents told me straight

To take her out I’d have to wait

There was absolutely no chance, no fear

Not unless I paid them and bought them beer
Then they didn't care what I did with their dear
Daughter they'd kept in slavery.

So that was the first wife, the second was weirder
A very noisy lovemaker, you should have heard her!
With no father to speak of but a harridan mother
Who pestered me daily and was no end of bother

So I left them both to it after about eleven years
Tons of smashed china and mountains of tears

Irrational behaviour, untold fears
I wanted none of their slavery

Here I am now with wife number three
Who loves me, she says, but I do worry
'Cos my boyfriend wants me to leave her
What can I do? I don't want to deceive her.

You’ll be better of with me, says he.

From ALL women you must be free

But too is much at stake to make the break
I must have my cake, And eat it.

© Aahlu 2010.

Llamas

Ah the pillows smell of Cats again
And the quilt does too
My side of the bed is crumpled
There is a vague smell of poo....

One night alone would be
For me so carefree
No wriggling, no sneezing
No meowing without reason
And when it gets light,
No chance of a fight
No stains on the sheet
Ton weight on my feet
Oh I despair
For all their hair
At least llamas
Don’t chew pyjamas

They’ll stay outside
They won’t hide
Deride or Chide

Or bring in rats

To rip the mats
Sometimes cats,
I can't
Abide.

© Aahlu 2010.

Mother’s Green Apron.

I sense I have not so very long a time left

A few goals remain, yet memories

Litter life’s fields like molehills, growing

Larger as their shadows lie long upon

Mother’s stained green apron.

Spread upon England’s fields so green

Her woods bounteous, her rivers pure

Where once we kept avarice’s hordes away

The thief safe out, the wolf at bay

Now we can no longer.

Not so very long a time left in which to worry

You or fret and frighten neighbours and friends

Or anyone, not so long a time, perhaps one

Or two more summers before I’ll lie long upon

Mother’s rumpled green apron.

I shall no longer walk in England’s lanes once so free

Nor scent her banks bedecked with wild flowers

They’re stolen now, poisoned, tidied, regulated away

They shine no longer, no more to grace.

My Mother’s Rich green apron.

Then what will become perhaps you will ask

Of this and that and those other things? Books

I cherished, tools I used, a picture, a poem

A thing of little worth or use, burdens left upon

Mother’s crumpled green apron.

Do what you will with them I shall not care

There value gone as my country is gone, as

My history and heroes are derided and ridiculed

My children taught the lies of others and not of

Mother’s true green apron.

History is writ by the victors they say

Yet in this both us and them will lose

Treachery and treason, wars, long memories

Victory for no-one in the end but bloodstains on

Mother’s Green English apron.

10th April 2010

*******

One Acre of Sunlight

One acre of sunlight

Cut diagonally

Sliced sympathetically

Paves my floors this morning.

Triangular, as the window rises

Uncertain here, and there, where

A silhouetted tree intrudes.

Dappled across the threshold

By seashore shaped lace curtains

Coloured by inconsequential prisms

Of flowerpot and plant, toned and tinted

By glass timeworn, cobwebbed.

None of this concerns some people

The wife, the postman or the milkman

They’ve all seen it before, so many

So many times they no longer comment

They’ve tripped lightly through it

Smiling with superiority or bad temper

Fat with the conviction that only they

Are immune to such frivolities.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, and no…….

When, to breakfast naked

While cats gambol and chase their tails

Is the ultimate in exquisite exclusivity.

A jewel made of sunshine, angular yet soft

Spilled like leaked emulsion, stepped in

Smeared, half wiped up, half forgotten,

Shapeless with facets uncountable………

So I take my coffee outside

My toast and my box of cereal

The dawn damp cushion accepts its fate

The cloth lies still, smooth on the little table

Pale where I place my bowl and begin to eat

In my one acre of sunlight.

© Aahlu. 07/06/2010

*******

Rubbished

I do it too, just like you

Daydream! I know you do

All about tea and Tamil Flu

And the dire political situation

Then Alice cuddled me so tight

In my rabbit hole that night

She told me everything‘d be alright

If I loved her for the duration.

I wrote a novel about the stars

Far off ones, not just Mars

With spaceports, restaurants and bars

To take my rest and recreation.

No publisher would look at it

Some said it was just dirty squit

Controversial, Lewd and a bit

Rude about inflation.

So it languishes in a drawer

Hidden no doubt for evermore

From those who might read and adore

My wonderful creation.

© Aahlu. 2010.

When in Rome

We sat in sun some time a'rove

In Italy but not in Rome

Out in that country’s hilly groves

Wandered far from home

Lively bards we two were, not knowing

Language nor custom there

But taking all the baits they were throwing

Travelling lightly as we dare.

We played cards and my companion won

With concessions, I admit

Some comfortable berth out of the sun

In cool shade for to sit.

A ragged hag made us some coffee

Similar to mud and I tell you

Truly it tasted more like burnt toffee

Than any bean that ever grew.

Then I won a hand and the men cried out

That I was somehow a cheat

And in beating them there was no doubt

They resented their defeat

They threw down their cards; I shook my head

Seeing sadly what I'd done

The cards were a Tarot deck and easily read

And I'd considered it mere fun.

So we drank our coffee and packed our bags

And shouldered our loads again

Italy is filled with mad old men and sullen hags

So we made our way to Spain.

© Aahlu 1996

The Great Bed of Ware

Is twelve feet square
And heres a riddle:
How do you reach the middle
When its full to the steeple
With sleeping people?

Office Antics.

I tripped in the hallway, fell flat on my face
All because of some stupid race
To see who could get out to lunch on time
All because of some stupid rhyme
I looked up from the floor and um......
Noticed my little secretary had a bare bum.

She didn't even blush when I looked at her
At her smooth pussy devoid of all fur
Nor did she help me; she went on her way
Leaving me wondering for the rest of the day
Did she always go around pushing her luck
In an office full of men all wanting to fuck.

Now I know who left the copier messed up
The top all smeary as if a cup
Of hot chocolate had been spilled on the glass
I know now it was her naked arse
Being copied for a laugh or a dare
I recognise her now, she's the one with no hair.

© Aahlu 2010

*******

His Other Hat

it is fortunate

he said

to be waiting in the rain

wearing my other hat.

(one of his other

hats in fact for

he had many

he had many)

the lorry passed and

splashed him thoroughly

soaked him as he stood

waiting in the rain.

(in his other hat

one of them for

he had many

he had many)

i am wet, he wept

no hat can save me

save me, save me!

i’m soaked to the skin.

© Aahlu 2006.

At the Crossroads

At the crossroads.

I love the way

You say

Go away

Your lips curl

Just like a girl

Getting ready to hurl

A cup or plate

If I don’t wait

And be late

Why

Try

To get by

That parked bus

When both of us

Can see

Plainly

The gaps too small

To get through at all.

I’ll take the blame

And give my name

I’ve no shame

It was my fault

The sign said Halt

What a jolt!

When we

Hit that tree

You and me

Now youre mad

And I am sad

The damage is bad

The cars all bent

We’ll have to rent

Repent! Repent!

Or today

I’ll hear what you say

And go away.

I Love the Way

I love the way.

I love the way your knob looks

When I roll the skin back

Smooth and shiny like

The top of a gear stick

Polished by hand.

(I thought it would come right off

The first time I sucked it as hard

As I did in my eagerness to please)

I love the way your knob feels

When you push it against me

I feel you tensing, getting ready

Feel the sharp slip of it

Going in.

(I thought I’d choke the first time

You came as much as you did

In your eagerness to please)

I love the way your cock feels

Solidly sliding deeper

And the way you hold me

Squeezing tight my nipples

With your strong hands.

*******

At the Crossroads

I could write a song

To the rhythm of your breathing

To the rise and fall of your breasts

While you lie sleeping

To the beat of the pulse

On the curve of your wrist.

Don’t ask me why,

I couldn’t tell you

Would not know where

To begin the description

Of love, my love for you

But bring me a feather

A petal, a raindrop

Then you’ll know.

I could cry a song

To the pain of my sadness

To the emptiness inside

When you’re not here

To the shape you’ve left

On your side of the bed.

Don’t ask me how

I couldn’t define it

Have no idea what

When or why it is it

But show me the sough

Of the wind in the trees

Or the shape of the snowflakes

That crowd my window

Then you’ll know.

I watch the day fade into evening and wait but still there is nothing to show me where in my world you might be travelling; whether from me or to me, I cannot tell. Drifted snow darkens my windows, curtains shade the last of the light from the sky.

I cry as softly as those snowflakes, as silently as the breath, your breath, I can no longer hear. Once I drank, now my cup is empty, ate, now my cupboard is bare, loved, now my heart feels broken. Perhaps it is………

All evening I pottered aimlessly, never more than a yard from the phone in case it should ring. It didn’t, now I am worried. Anguish is a funny word. Inadequate to describe the way I feel. Tearful sounds torn and frightful, like smeared mascara. Broken hearted sounds so final. Perhaps it is…….

Uncertainty kills me slowly, inexorably. Creeping like a ice cold snake into my thoughts, my coffee, my chocolate biscuits. If only you’d ring, it’d only take a minute. Less ‘cos I’d answer straight away. Hello, you’d say. Sorry, I’ve been delayed. There are delays on the motorway. Something, anything instead of nothing. Is it dark outside? Perhaps it is…….

Words are my weapons and armed I shall fight my fears. Love, she said, conquers all, if only you believe. I love you dearly, with all my heart, I said. Tears are my enemy, tears and the gulf of you not being here. Love, she said, sustains all, if only you believe. I love you truly, with all my soul, I said. And I did………...

I could write a song

To the misery of my crying

To the flurry of snowflakes

And the drip of tears

To the cold fear inside

To the weight of my worry

Don’t ask me why

I couldn’t tell you

I know naught of anything

Except that sadness

Is death, or soon will be

‘cos you’re not here

‘cos you’re not here

‘cos you’re not here.

I could cry a song

For th……………

I jump out of my skin when the phone rings so suddenly, drop it on the floor in my haste to answer it.

Hello, yes? Yes, YES!

“Hello! It’s me……Sorry I’ve been cut off. There has been a lot of snow and they’ve closed all the roads over the Pennines. My phone won’t work up here but I’m alright. I’ve got a room in that funny little hotel on the Snake Pass, you know the one, I am calling from there…………”

© Aahlu. 2009

*******

It Doesn't Matter

He’s just an ordinary bloke
Hairy legged, hairy chest
Perhaps plumper than
We’d both like
But it doesn’t matter.

He’s just an ordinary man
Muscular, musty
His breath smelling
Of us both
But it doesn’t matter.

He’s just an ordinary lover
Dominant when necessary
Quiet when he’s not
Sometimes uncertain
But it doesn’t matter.

You’re just an ordinary bloke
He says, cuddling, cumming
I love your legs, your ears, your bum
He fucks me til it hurts sometimes
But it doesn’t matter.

© Aahlu 2010.

Breakfast in Bed

Shall I compare thee to a summers day (she asked)
I grinned, still abed but hungry for food and herCompare away I told her, just bring me breakfastSoft fried eggs on your round belly, coffee on your lips
And don’t forget the salt and pepper.
She went away, I heard the car start, the crunch of gravelWe were out of eggs she says, on the phone from Morrison'sPriapus failed me, as did patience! I rose, showered and wentTo the boyfriends place and found him still sweetly in bed.

Shall I compare thee to a summer evening (he asked)
I smirked, climbing aboard eagerly and with alacrity.
Compare away, I declared, he did so, my mobile ringing
In the middle of it all; damn, damn oh damn and damn!
Have you gone for the milk?
Her plaintive cry, sarcastic, unsubtle, I think she knew
Our quickie quickened, I, quietening my grunting, agreed.
Suppressing giggles we ground to a halt, kissed and I made it
Back home fifty five seconds before her and made her tea.

© Aahlu. 2010.

Jealous? Who Me?

After sixty three
Cynical years
Drinking tea
In a castle
With an Aga,
An orrery,
An abacus,
An almanac
And a ginger tomcat,
Do you really think
I’d be bothered if one day I discovered
My boyfriend dancing with another man?

No, no, no, I'd just pull the blind
And leave them dancing in the dark
Knowing that I don't really mind
Because its just a lark.

It would bother me
Not a Jot
Because you see
What we’ve got
Leaves him and me
No matter what
Free from jealousy.

© Aahlu. 2010.

Not Yet

I’ll have to start wearing shoes and trousers soon
Now the mornings are colder
Now the delivery boy is frightened
But I can’t bring myself to. Not yet.

I’ll have to start writing a letter to you soon
But my hand is still bandaged
And uck looks funny, without the F.
So I can’t bring myself to. Not yet.

I’ll have to clear the cat mess up soon
Before I tread in it and walk it upstairs
Another reason to wear shoes maybe
But I can’t bring myself to. Not yet.

I’ll have to make love to you soon
In between everything else
The demands and obligations
But I can’t bring myself to. Not yet.

For a hundred quid

I lay in the sun this morning thinking
How nice it would be to have an outside loo
Where I could sit with the door open and a book
Pages clipped with clothes pegs against the breeze,
Watching a ribbon of pink paper unroll.
I’d build one if it could be done, for a hundred quid.

Footbath

I haven’t wrote a pome of late
Because I’m very wary
Of spending time forcing the rhyme
Whilst growing ever hairy.

I left my left foot in the rain
Forgot where I had left it
The rain was wet and yet, and yet
Twas better than my left tit

Its drier now I’m pleased to say
Back here with the other
And the rights alright despite the fright
Of losing its twin brother.

Now you will laugh I know you will
You lost a foot you’ll say
But look its tanned and socked and banned
From ever going away.

Now the kettles on, the cats are too
All over the damned bed
I’ll put on my shoes and am telling youse
I’ve wrote this pome instead.

© Aahlu 070910

Revenge

I lost out to a Lithuanian
With a big prick and hands
The size of dustbin lids
And a mouth to match
His ego stretched widely
From ear to ear like a banner
But I got the better of him
Caught him at the crossroads
In my tractor, it’s a JCB
And ran him over, right over
Until he was flat.
Can’t say I’m sorry, I’m not
It was an accident after all

Now he’ll pick no more
Cauliflowers or fights
Make trouble in the field
Shout out about his glorious
Motherland wherever it was
Steal from others jackets
Whilst sheltering from the rain
They all cheered when I told them
Watched the ambulance go away
And the police. Industrial accident
They said. One less foreigner
Stealing our women
And our NHS.

© Aahlu 070910

Can Love Fade?

Grey eyes
Sleepy on the pillow
Smile good morning
Yawns.

Brown eyes
Goes to make tea
And bring a present
Kisses

We know
Love can fade, yes
But anniversaries
Brighten

How long
She asks lightly
Have you kept this
Hidden?

Brown eyes
Laughs with pleasure
Love burns brightly
Today.

Torn paper
Little box and card
Fifteen years! Oh a
Lifetime!

Our eyes
Together know this
Love fades but also
Strengthens.

© M.V.W. 120908

Hole

T'was very wet and full of mud
Of this I was reminded
When it all fell in with a sickening thud
I don't know who designed it..........

RSVP EROTICA

I could write a song
To the rhythm of your breathing
To the rise and fall of your breasts
While you lie sleeping
To the beat of the pulse
On the curve of your wrist.

Don’t ask me why,
I couldn’t tell you
Would not know where
To begin the description
Of love, my love for you
But bring me a feather
A petal, a raindrop
Then you’ll know.

I could cry a song
To the pain of my sadness
To the emptiness inside
When you’re not here
To the shape you’ve left
On your side of the bed.

Don’t ask me how
I couldn’t define it
Have no idea what
When or why it is it
But show me the sough
Of the wind in the trees
Or the shape of the snowflakes
That crowd my window
Then you’ll know.

I watch the day fade into evening and wait but still there is nothing to show me where in my world you might be travelling; whether from me or to me, I cannot tell. Drifted snow darkens my windows, curtains shade the last of the light from the sky.

I cry as softly as those snowflakes, as silently as the breath, your breath, I can no longer hear. Once I drank, now my cup is empty, ate, now my cupboard is bare, loved, now my heart feels broken. Perhaps it is………

All evening I pottered aimlessly, never more than a yard from the phone in case it should ring. It didn’t, now I am worried. Anguish is a funny word. Inadequate to describe the way I feel. Tearful sounds torn and frightful, like smeared mascara. Broken hearted sounds so final. Perhaps it is…….

Uncertainty kills me slowly, inexorably. Creeping like a ice cold snake into my thoughts, my coffee, my chocolate biscuits. If only you’d ring, it’d only take a minute. Less ‘cos I’d answer straight away. Hello, you’d say. Sorry, I’ve been delayed. There are delays on the motorway. Something, anything instead of nothing. Is it dark outside? Perhaps it is…….

Words are my weapons and armed I shall fight my fears. Love, she said, conquers all, if only you believe. I love you dearly, with all my heart, I said. Tears are my enemy, tears and the gulf of you not being here. Love, she said, sustains all, if only you believe. I love you truly, with all my soul, I said. And I did………...

I could write a song
To the misery of my crying
To the flurry of snowflakes
And the drip of tears
To the cold fear inside
To the weight of my worry

Don’t ask me why
I couldn’t tell you
I know naught of anything
Except that sadness
Is death, or soon will be
‘cos you’re not here
‘cos you’re not here
‘cos you’re not here.

I could cry a song
For th……………

I jump out of my skin when the phone rings so suddenly, drop it on the floor in my haste to answer it.

Hello, yes? Yes, YES!

“Hello! It’s me……Sorry I’ve been cut off. There has been a lot of snow and they’ve closed all the roads over the Pennines. My phone won’t work up here but I’m alright. I’ve got a room in that funny little hotel on the Snake Pass, you know the one, I am calling from there…………”

© Aahlu. 2009

Waiting *Newly Published*

Rejected.

I do it too, yes, just like you
Daydream! I know you do
All about tea and Tamil Flu
And the dire political situation

I dream all night as well no doubt
Sometimes I even have to shout
“Its dark in here, oh let me out!”
So strong is the temptation

To disappear for good in dreams
Where I can be me and so it seems
I need no potions, lotions or creams
To smooth away ablations

Then Alice cuddles me so tight
In my rabbit hole all night
She tells me everything’ll be alright
If I love her for the duration.

I wrote a novel about the stars
Far off ones, not just Mars
With spaceports, restaurants and bars
To take my rest and recreation.

No publisher would look at it
Some said it was just dirty squit
Controversial, Lewd and a bit
Rude about inflation.

So it languishes in a drawer
Hidden no doubt for evermore
From those who might read and adore
My wonderful creation.

© Aahlu. 2010.

Amanda

Ah Vegetarians, but I wont scoff
I had one once but the wheels fell off
She smoked so much it made me cough
And what was even less of a laugh
Were the two Vegans tumbling after.

Cabbages she ate for dinner and tea
Long carrots too, fine grated by me
No morsel of meat passed her lips, no siree
So the only thing ever to fill me with glee
Were the two Vegans stumbling past her.

Her complexion was fine, she had yellow skin
Jaundiced, you'd say if you saw her come in
You'd be right too, and she was everso thin
A proverbial skeleton without even a chin.
But so were the two Vegans who asked her.

To join them for a meal of wilted green things
Bring your boyfriend too, he likes onion rings
We've fresh asparagus too - the food of Kings.
But I got fish and chips and fried chicken wings
And the two Vegans? I didn’t dare ask them!

© Aahlu 010210