The busy body
was so bloody busy
he lost his bloody body!
So he bled
and bled
and bled
to death.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
The busy body
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Category Archives: Poems
Eric
It was lunchtime,
So he climbed inside a sandwich
And waited for Eric.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Where
The dog did a poo.
It was pretty big,
quite smelly and
rather sloppy.
But the interesting thing
was where he did the poo –
it was somewhere you
really wouldn’t expect.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Turn up
A big banker gave his massive,
massive bonus to a charity,
which is actually quite funny
because we don’t really
expect that behaviour from someone like him.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Employment
The employee wanted to care.
She wanted to care so much
and about every tiny little thing.
But she just didn’t.
So then she worried.
She worried so much
and about every tiny little thing.
Six months later she got promoted!
Which was terrifying.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
29
29. The age of Kasper, son of Peter. I don’t think you would’ve heard of him in a footballing context, but he’s turned out pretty good. The last solid memory I have of you in goal was when I tripped backwards and broke my wrist. I opted for the Jamie Vardy blue cast, way before that 29-year-old was even in non-league, let alone playing for England. Time can fog the mind and death most certainly tints it rosie but, while I remember you laughing as I hit the ground, you were definitely the first to check I was ok. Probably. 14 years ago we were asked to write letters you’d never read. “Almost gone the whole season unbeaten. Just need to win against Leicester. Easy.” How times have changed. I watched them lift the trophy this year and thought of what you might have achieved – besides, of course, making me well up at a smiling Wes Morgan.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Secret
the man had a secret
it was quite dark, actually
so he never told a soul
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Sometimes
Henry was
all over
the place,
which
was really
quite stressful, until
he
met
Donna
who
kept
him
on
the
straight
and
narrow sometimes.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Attention span
She peeled her orange
to reveal her own face staring back at her.
She pondered her very existence
until her BFF texted her a massive ROFL
And she pegged it to the night club.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
The day I murdered seven men
The day I murdered seven men, I was grumpy. But that doesn’t tell the whole story, you see. I was very, very sleepy and I’m rarely happy when I have a bad night’s rest. I start the morning all slow and dopey, but then the smallest thing can set me off. This day – the day I murdered seven men – it was that precious little “princess”. She always acts so bashful and coy, but she’s not. She’s manipulative. She has all the guys clamouring over her and gets them to do all of her dirty work: filing, proofing a Word Doc, franking the post. The other day she even got one of them to clean and dust her desk, fully aware he has allergies! Poor sod was all puffy and sneezy. Unbelievable. She’s like it with all of them, but they just put on a brave face and whistle away their day. Well, they used to. The day I murdered seven men, I was grumpy. But I like to think I put those little guys out of their misery. Not everything is as black as coal or white as snow.
© Carl Burkitt 2016
Carl tells tales 