Queen's English

I shall try to explain so you will understand
the usage of shall or will in English Grammar.
Both shall and will are auxiliary verbs
predominantly relating to the future.

Shall is used with the preceding nouns I or we;
I shall write a free verse poem and we shall read it;
as the case in point is apt, so to speak.

Now will relates to the nouns you, it, he, she and they;
it will rain tomorrow and he will walk her home;
she will kiss him goodnight and they will live happily ever after.
You will use grammar correctly, if you don't mind.

This is all very well unless one is from the US of A
where all nouns relate to will and shall hardly ever happens,
but as far as correct English as spoken by our Queen
I shall use both as correct in English Grammar.

I conclude with this thought
Shall I submit for your contest or shall I not?
If I do may I suggest a follow up
of how to use would, could and should. 


© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Mostly Harmless

The hapless, tea-drinking moppet from Earth
Hadn’t a clue he was just a glitch of software
The science of white mice decried his birth
As the Vogon’s blast left him threadbare
Save for the friend by the name of Ford
Who gave him a towel for the trip to space
Tortured by Vogon poetry, no art of word
Here is a sample, translated at Babel fish’s place,

“See, see the scary sky
Marvel at its big pink depths.
Tell me, Larry Burns do you
Wonder why the sloth ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel snumblefaced.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your grumplingshinks facial growth
That looks like
A yoghurt.
What's more, it knows
Your caustic potting shed
Smells of old custard.
Everything under the big scary sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You don’t even charm old socks”

After that the dear fish died, no surprise,
And the tea-drinker and Ford were out with the trash
By odds so improbable its impossible to surmise
Zaphod caught the guys on the back lash.
Adventures were made and the Earth’s reason found
A computer its said to work out the question, just one
The meaning of life, the universe and everything is sound
The answer is 42 but what was the problem to be done

It’s bothered me since the radio days
When that psychotic robot started gripping
A manic depressive with  miserable ways
I’m there on my bed thinking I’m tripping
There must be answers but mother called me for tea
With a frown and a moan I have to switch off
With wishes for a knack for Vogon poetry
Dedicated as is their way to mother… cough, cough

Now I think I have solved it at last, I’m free
At 42, the question must quite simply be me.

Nuff said!!!
© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

It's Lilac if you Please

 

I've never seen a human bean
I worry why they don't see;
They assure you, I'm never seen,
Even glasses can't find me.

They ponder over purple cows
a variant of nature
whose beauty smiles, as she allows
my lilac hide a future.

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Dactyllic Nightmare

Horrible Harrible
Harriet Simpleton
terrifies poets with
portraits of meter

Innocent writers are
beaten to see that the
hexasyllabical
words are much neater

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Ernie the Other Half a Bee

Half of me, co-incidentally,
As has been said, Eric be,
This half of bee must surely be,
acutely, the half bee that is me.

They forgot me, can you not see,
That Eric Bee was half of me,
They said this Bee was not a bee
And blamed it on an injury!

Sing it...

ABCDEFG
Ernie the half a bee
One, two, three... la dee dee
Ernie the half a bee

It's that cursed semi-bee
No chance he recalls me
As he dozes upon your knee
Damn that Eric, the half-a-bee

Ho, ho, ho, and he he he
Ernie the half a bee
Twiddly dum, fiddler's three
Ernie the half a bee

I loved the hive, 'til he broke free
Split in two, bi-sexually
That summer's day when he loved me
Wholly carnally.

He loved me carnally
I was his lady bee
The End

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Ballad of Sir Jeff

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

The shining waistcoats your defence
They come and lay the curse.
They write while questing for suspense
The dragons of free verse.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

So gather shields of metered rhyme
Be firm with iamb feet.
Release spondaic darts in time
To save the poet's seat.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

The fiery breath of random word
Descends the walls of verse
And cause the sonnet, now absurd,
To flow a little terse.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

Sir Jeff, is he legend or myth?
From iambic wizards
He used his magic poet gift
As flow defeated lizards.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

And when he sleeps in mermaid dreams
Inside dark fantasy.
The rhyme and rhythm are the seams
And words of ecstasy

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

The quest is done time for PG
And scones with cream and jam.
A mug of brew his cup of tea
And his feet are iamb.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Brief Intro

A writer of poems at forty
A lady but not of leisure
I live in England, how haughty
My pet cats are divine pleasure

An eco-warrior I be
A wild Pagan heart is my treasure
Words and pictures set my mind free
My pet cats are divine pleasure

Now learning to write with flow
And classical beat to measure
Form poetry now needs to show
My pet cats are divine pleasure.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Just a Boy

Stood beneath the station clock I wait,
Make-up fixed as my nerves start to tremble.
Apprehension inside growing as I watch the gate
As the crowd for the next train assemble.

Eyes slowly move to the clock, quarter to eight.
I wonder if the ad in the paper was right,
And then hope that his train isn't too late.
The letters exchanged, yet still I feel this fright.

'Pull yourself together, girl, it's only a date!'
A brief hello at a nearby pizza bar.
The letters it seemed this was our fate,
He's just a boy, me a girl, we could go far.

Why worry if the need for love we sate?
Oh, why can't it be easy to find the perfect mate?

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Oh My Love

Oh my darling, do you not see
Without you I am not able to be
Each morning you awaken my body and mind
And always beside me, you, I loyally find

I watch the steam pass free from your lip
I savour what is to come as I hear your first drip
Dark, strong, smooth and intoxicating
For you my love I don't mind waiting

Those strange noises you make each morning
The start of the day on my mind is dawning
Slowly you grunt into your rhythmic action
Making ready for our sweet chemical reaction
You give me so much each day, my darling one
Without you, my love, my day cannot be begun

You alone the cobwebs of my mind do shake
A day of sweet music we soon will make
You stir me, inspire me, not one drop from you will I waste
As at last you offer me that first oh so sweet taste

Silky heat as first you touch my eager lips
The delight and pleasure send my mind into back flips
Oh baby, baby, yes I love you such a lot
My darling, my beautiful, sweet coffee pot.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Afternoon Tea Inspection

An English tradition, now so rare
Afternoon tea in mother's parlour.
The table set as she warms the pot,
His nerves explain his opal pallor.

Tea served in the best Royal Doulton
With crust less sandwich and dainty cakes.
Endless questions about his intent,
No wonder the poor man has the shakes.

Where are you going? What a to do!
I apologise for her prying.
Another boyfriend will soon be gone
Again left alone at home, crying.

Just to get past first base would be nice
The joy of life, the only daughter
Why can't I taste passion and feel lust
Just to feel love once like I oughta!

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

A Writer's Rage

Yet another typo missed by the spell check
Draft after draft I have to type again
My fingers move faster than a hen’s peck
Or get judge’s comments full of disdain.

Proofreading screams at mistakes in grammar
The anger I feel is building up inside
Start again I don’t want all the drama
Just so editors won’t push me aside.

Yet more errors to infuriate me
Hours spent in front of the glaring screen.
I’m now going to be late home for tea,
Patience all gone, it’s now a has been.

System failure its now quite grotesque
That is how my keys ended in the desk

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Journey to the Land of Neverwas

Poor Mr. Easter Bunny, so full of woe.
No chocolate, oh gosh, it so is not funny!
Head in hands he sits, what to do?
Kiddies don’t want candy sticks coated in honey.

My dear friend with the elongated ears,
a legend exists, if you are willing to go.
A land where chocolate rivers gently meander
Through valleys of jelly bean meadow.

To get there is quite simple, just follow this road
Of sweet Parma violets till you come to the bend.
There a fluffed chick of yellow will continue as guide
To Neverwas, and Easter you will soon mend.

You can gather from the trees full of dolly’s mixture,
Or find Bertie for a selection of liquorice all sort.
Take a handful of Smarties here, and grab some Snickers there.
If you have time, a slice of Granny’s finest chocolate torte

One last thing, as a gift from me, Mr. E. Bunny,
The secret map, to this ideal of sweet candy infusion.
A garden of indulgence you will surely find,
An extravagant delight, an end to this Easter confusion.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Boys Are Stupid, Throw Rocks at Them

The sun beats down and you sleep on missing the fun
A mad dog lying there in the English summer sun.
Oh clever you covered your member, you did
And you remembered to put back the sunscreen lid


Think you are smart don’t you my dear,
The blazing sun you have nothing to fear
Just laying there on your lazy back
Did no one tell you that sand will get in your crack?

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

April 1 Breaking News: WMD Found

After fives years of violence and slaughter,
Evidence has finally been uncovered of WMD.
There it was in plain sight, ignored so many times,
A pea shooter and a casket of dried pea.

Spud guns in red, blue and yellow,
Yes, we should have been so afraid.
Organic biological warfare, such a danger,
Unearthed yesterday morning in a dawn raid.

Information is coming from the Beeb and ITN,
Aggi Omar is heading to the scene in a dash.
Paxo, a report is preparing for Newsnight.
If you are affected please call this number - end of newsflash

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

My Girl and Me

I watch as she warms the pot at quarter to three,
a tray for two laid perfect in the conservatory.
Ready for that oh, so English speciality,
an event of elegance and grace is afternoon tea.
Cups sat on saucers, china decorated delicately,
everything perfect she looks and smiles at me.
My smile returned tell her the service is satisfactory
and she sits on my lap, and drinks her tea.
Simple things please best, my girl and me.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Temptations

Ms Lilly, my dear, give me your hand,
let me take you to a sensual promised land.
Soft tendrils of evocative silk stroking your face,
a greeting as we enter this velvet soft place.

Whispered the caresses of luscious arrays of rainbow colour,
prints mingling with checks, vibrant pinstripe and pretty flower.
Ms Lilly, sweet Lilly, let go of your fear and concern,
step into the realm of retail sensuality for which you so yearn.

Don't stop yet, my dear do not tease, there is many a pleasure
awaiting your temptation, at your delight and your leisure.
Juicy peaches that dribble sweet on your chin,
sticky trails of fruitiness and a longing to give in.

Lose your awareness and grip on reality, let it slide,
as you engulf yourself in your desire's lustful wild ride.
Come my Ms Lilly, fill your sweet honey basket with love,
chocolate covered fingers, a taste of heaven above.

Feel your excitement mounting as you reach out to the checkout girl,
hand her your card and let your senses take a whirl.
The rushing of sensation as your card she does swipe,
the realization that shopping is nothing but... sexual deviant hype.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Wild About Worthing

The hell's angels on electric scooters
Race along the promenade to the pier.
Make sure you move at the sound of hooters
Or be mown down by the grannies, we fear.

The stars come out at the Pavillion,
Just like the teeth of those that go see 'em.
The original louts of rebellion,
They'll get you with a stick up the bum.

Watch old boys in white playing with their bowls
Or listen to the tunes at the bandstand.
Making the most of life with sagging cowls
Though most can no longer do a handstand.

Concerns of functions of waste congestion,
It's enough to give us indigestion.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.