3/4/18 – Murphy

Posted on April 3, 2018 by carltellstales

Eddie Murphy climbed into
the fat suit one last time
and cried himself to death.

This poem is part of a challenge for National Poetry Writing Month 2018 – a daily poem for a celebrity’s birthday.

2/4/18 – Fassbender

Posted on April 2, 2018 by carltellstales

Michael Fassbender
Was quite a big spender.
Not big as in expensive,
But big as in size.
He bought foam fingers,
Top hats and giant bow ties.
He bought inflatable rubber dinghies
And a large French fries.
Though the most impressive thing,
One that caused the biggest shock
Was not his jumbo popcorn
Or novelty stick of rock,
But his monstrous, humungous,
Breathtakingly ginormous
cockerel.

This poem is part of a challenge for National Poetry Writing Month 2018 – a daily poem for a celebrity’s birthday.

1/4/18 – Boyle

Posted on April 1, 2018 by carltellstales

Susan Boyle started to sing.
No-one asked her to,
but she did on a whim.
She sang and sang
as the church bells rang
and the entire village smiled.
Susan felt prouder
so sang louder and louder
until her volume exploded a child.

This poem is part of a challenge for National Poetry Writing Month 2018 – a daily poem for a celebrity’s birthday.

Fooling

Posted on April 1, 2018 by carltellstales

“You ain’t fooling anyone,” said Paul to the mirror.

Struggle

Posted on March 21, 2018 by carltellstales

For two weeks words have struggled to enter my brain.
The few that have either didn’t feel strong enough
to travel down my long arms and out of my fingers,
or were negative, mean and not cool about me.
I’ve kept myself locked away and avoided people
and things and haven’t even looked and my notepads.
But today is the day to celebrate poetry
and I’d be remiss to miss out and have another blank page.
So for you today, on World Poetry Day, I’d just like to say:
I’m not OK.
And that’s fine.
But I will be.
Also: Midwifery.
What a great word that is.

Pockets

Posted on March 14, 2018 by carltellstales

You know the tiny pocket that lives inside your jeans pocket? What’s that for? Is it a pocket for your pocket? Does your pocket keep its pocket money in there? Its pocket knife? Its pocket dictionary? Probably not, it’s too small to hold a dictionary. Or is it? Surely a pocket’s pocket dictionary is even smaller than our pocket dictionaries. How many words does a pocket need to know? Wallet. Coins. Change. Fingers. Keys. Fluff. Why don’t jogging bottoms have tiny pockets in their pockets? Maybe jogging bottom pockets don’t carry things when they go jogging. Makes sense.

Open

Posted on March 14, 2018 by carltellstales

Having not written anything for a week, the writer forgot how to do it. He picked up a baguette and tried scribbling in a notebook. Nothing. He rubbed a squirrel on a Post-it note. Nothing. He delicately peeled off his forehead, pierced a hole in his skull and let blood and bits of brain and his inner most innards drown his keyboard. Bestseller.