Hey Presto

Words recited in sentence spell 

Spell of fairy magic wand, directions cast 

 Abraca dabra hey presto, rabbits   

Subjective Perspective

A blow with a word strikes deeper
Than a blow with a sword 
Words are all we have 


Famously, frivolously, chitty chitty  
My girl says I make up words  
Sometimes I leave it blank, empty head in a room 


Meaning, this thing, "this thing" being my favourite line
Fills in the gap on thoughts, of  my missing words, read my mind 
Ok ok, time out, ours to hold, on hold, I remember word


Lets see, in pictures view  
Mirror, mirror, on the dictionary wall of words 
To whom is the word, best to behold 


This hold adds meaning in definitions expressed  
Thesaurus gives options, go on make my day 
On words to replace with, then with, them with  


Poets like big words, again with confusing conundrums 
As if methaphors are not  
Hard enough to decipher   


So brain works, brain food 
Brain storm, tic toc, tic toc,  sudoko
You should know by now


Already by now this is me ranting. 
But to t' point to be made, by now, on words with words
Chaos and order are two sides of the same coin 


So who holds order, ready in exchange for chaos 
Curiosity always gets the better of man in exchange 
I am heading towards order with word, patience,  me love 


The thing is, this thing is 
Poetry like abstract painting 
Needs subjective, perspective, rendition  


For the individual to make their own 
Mirror, mirror on the wall, this thing, with words 
Who is the most beautiful, of them all, to be used "subjective" 


Note: if you understood this poem, then you did better than I did

Typos Like A Rush

The feel of face pimple, mountain of topography 
A rush of molehills sat firm on the face, picture perfect  
Looking back at me in mirrors, does my bump look big   


Holds in form the same gravity of annoyance 
As typos firmly sat in notes, pee ka boo
Poems and essays written, on thoughts  


Steven Fry thus quoting from Oscar Wilde
Thus wanting to make a point, on peek-ka-boo
Once included a note to his publishers


Saying "I will leave you to tidy up the woulds
wants, wouldn'ts and should, 
will and shall, should and whiches"
Etc etc etc etc.....on and on and on and on, pee ka boo 


I wrote a poem, an epic poem 
And got the title all tipsy wrong
A few typos, nicely stack like they belong 


Hidden from view, on first read
Second read, third read, blind 
Still hidden from view, pee ka boo 


Only to stand out like a post 
With flag on mountain 
On the critics first read 

So I ponder with frustration asking questions
Why does such glitches  always happen
Not always, sometimes, but too often, sometimes 


Sometimes it takes a whole day and more 
While typos play pee ka boo, hiding and poking out, bumps 
Like a fresh pimple, ready to be popped, squeezed out 

Would, for will, there and their
And all the other misfits, misfits 
My mind reads over, blank to blind 


At least I have 
Steven Fry and Oscar Wilde 
On my side, looking at the bigger picture 

Best have a second read before the critics' read 
Just in case, I overlooked another pee ka boo
Misfit, hiding from plain view