A herd of seahorse

My head is filled with bits of fluff
Cotton wool and other stuff
I stayed up until almost two
Because I had important things to do
I made an awesome robot cake
And my colleague here thought I could not bake
It’s covered with cream cheese icing in blue
And jelly tots and Smarties with absolutely none for you

A fractal, tactile symphony
It’s a mystery to me
I’m quite at sea
When it comes to post rationalizing this pretentious AV
Ignite, tonight
I just might
Spontaneously combust
Is the demographically correct poet
Literate, good looking and perfectly articulate?
I wonder if I qualify for an honorary PHD in generating bullshit?

So I’m sitting here feeling dizzy
With some marketing types in IT
In chinos, shirts and ties
Who never quite meet your eyes
I think they hide behind
Big words and catchy little anagrams
To hide the fact they really don’t understand
The animatics are fantastic
Award winning and very slick
But where is Africa catching on fire
A sure fire way to alight my ire

Now a herd of wild seahorse
Are galloping through the land
And Neptune looks on benign
His scepter in his hand
A little lost mermaid surfaces
And then dives quickly beneath
The waves, she’s no where near ready
To sacrifice her beautiful tail for a pair of human feet
While I understand the longing to waltz upon the land
Why give up the deep blue sea for an ungrateful man
So she could dance the night away
But had no voice to say
“He’s mine” and so some other girl stole him right away
And now the little mermaid has a pair of Jimmy Choos
And a handbag from Gucci so she can never loose
Her perfect composure as she stares across sea
And leaves her footprints in the sand as she
Wonders what became of her palace beneath the waves
And the pearls and pretty fishes whose company she craves

I’m taking the small boy aged 4 on an awfully big adventure
A great white steed awaits who carry will him swift and sure
I’ll carry the echo all through my life of the pure sound of his laughter
I hope his friends all liked the cake and left not a crumb
I really want to be his absolutely perfect mum
His brother aged 6 is moving out
He’s ranted and raved and had a shout
He’s going live in a tent in the backyard
I think I’ve just been handed the red card
Equivalent in small boy parenting
I’ll spend tonight in abject pleading groveling


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I write because I have to. It is a compulsion. I do it to vent, to laugh and to remember. I blog because it has been so long since I had to write with a pen that my hand would go into cramp if I tried to write a journal.

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