Poetry corner

Monster wasp – by Gent Thunderblanket and Franz Wotsit

wasp

Picked on the wrong wasp fool.

An unbelievable beast it was rarely believed,
Brian’s pet wasp all his friends they agreed,
Such a good pet it was for a young buck,
Though the constant stinging yeah, that did suck

But the wasp was Brian’s for bad and for good,
He cared for it, paid for its education and food,
It wore the best clothes that could be provided,
For invertebrate tailors are often misguided

Stripy it was, bad tempered and surly,
Its owner, dear Brian still loved it most purely,
A habit of jam jars and pub garden cider,
Harsh buzzing of wings and its owner the rider

For Brian you see was a finger-width tall,
For him a matchbox was the size of a hall,
So a wasp was a monster to a man of his stature,
A brave choice of pet and tricky to capture

Yet one day Brian spied in a neighbouring field,
A similar bug but far better heeled,
It was stripy and fluffy so soft on his knees,
It seemed that he’d finally fallen for bees

The sort of pet you could show to your mum,
With it’s nicer demeanour and gentler humm,
All the advantages afforded to wasps,
But none of the stinging or tailoring costs

“I can’t keep them both for I am too little!”
Sighed Brian the height of a badger’s toy skittle,
“Can I abandon my overwrought wasp?”
“It’s not like I owe him. I’ve never been boss.”

So by nightfall Brian rushed out and ran to the hive,
So neat not like wasps nests that were always such dives,
He selected a bee the biggest he’d seen,
Not knowing he’d foolishly stolen the queen

It fought for a while but he resolute,
Tamed the queen bee and escaped with a hoot,
But bees are possessive of their majesty,
The swarm quickly roused and pursued with alacrity

It dawned on him quickly he’d made quite the blunder,
That bees were not pets and would tear him asunder,
The abandonment guilt for his old wasp felt funny,
But not as unpleasant as falling in honey

He’d fallen right off of his striped royal steed,
Into the stuff on which bears like to feed,
It closed round his ankles a sugary glue,
And closer and closer the angry swarm flew

The moral of this as the buzzing grew keener,
Thought Brian is that the grass is not greener,
A wasp is a wasp from cradle to grave,
Angry and surly but incredibly brave

But wasps feel abandonment issues like us,
Although they may hide it not making a fuss,
Too late this epiphany for treacherous Brian,
A thousand stings later he lay there just dying.

Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

Good gardenstuffs! Is this site still limping along? Well I’ll be… More poetry possibly in the next decade only on MonkeyBroth.

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Poetry rectangle

Savoury trees

By Jordan Drysponge-Wetsponge

A decent buffet is really all a chap wants,

Wotsits, sausage rolls and mushroom vol-au-vents

Add in pints of strong continental lager,

And your average Joe will be in a heavenly lather

But for the love of arse don’t just lazily tip out a bag of twiglets,

And expect THAT to constitute a buffet, I’d rather nosh on piglets’

Buttocks or electrocute myself in the bath with a hairdryer,

Or immerse my whole body in a turned on chip fryer,

Or throw myself in front of the 8.46 from Waterloo,

Or stick a fork in my eyes and give myself a Chinese burn. Oooo

It makes me mad these twiglet loving idiots whose brains are clearly dead,

Just going around pouring them out and calling that a buffet instead

of taking some time and care about their savoury presentations

Running around all evil and weird with their nasty twiglet machinations,

I’d rather shove a piglet, yes another one, in my ear than gracefully concede to friggin twiglets PLEASE!

Hello? People? What’s so wrong with a decent bit of pineapple and cheese?

You bunch of howling apes with your stupid savoury trees,

Except they’re not trees are they, Mmmm? They are made of erm, actually…

I’m not sure what they are or what they could be

Marmite? Oh marmite did you say?

I quite like marmite, but I’m still going to stick forks in my eyes anyway

Hah! That will teach you, Mum, for

Not serving me a buffet for my 43rd birthday