Jul 24, 2012 0
I have a good five or six posts in Simplenote that are labelled ‘draft’ or ‘almost good to go’. Thing is, I’ve been writing so very much at work over the past few months instead of doing technical things, and it’s consuming most of my writing capacity.
In the meantime, I was planning on leeching some content from better writers than I and posting some of my favourite poetry here, but in the course of searching for it I rediscovered ‘Bad Poetry at the Flying Blogspot’ – something I wrote sporadically for my LiveJournal back in the day. Hold my hand; let’s travel back in time.
Oh, Office Job of Doom (2005)
Oh Office Job of Doom,
You sap my will to live
As each second passes,
And I can barely find comfort
In the knowledge that
I will be out of here in two hours.
Nor is there solace in knowing
That I am here but two days in each week,
Or that better things await me.
Oh Office Job of Doom,
You are so much less interesting
Than rioting in Cronulla,
And yet you both suck
So very much.
I wish to stab you in the face
With something very pointy,
Or better yet
Something very blunt.
How is it that you warp
The very fabric of Space-Time
Oh Office Job of Doom?
If I could understand this
I would surely not be working here.
Words to Adobe Creative Suite In No Particular Poetic Form (2006)
My love, it occurs to me,
That you and I
Have the most dysfunctional
On the one hand,
I defend you against the likes
Such as Quark and Freehand.
We sniff at MS Paint,
And bring new beauty
Into the world each day.
On the other
I rain abuse upon you;
And as you claim ‘Out of Memory’
I swear I’ll never forget.
You send ripples of electrons
Across the surface
Of our motherboard and hard drive.
My wailing and cursing
And gnashing of teeth
Can be heard
By the neighbours.
For as long as we both shall live, my love,
It will be you and I
Trading punch for punch,
Down the hall.
Ode to David Tennant, Upon the Watching of Season Four, Episode One (2008, not actually an ode)
You are quite fabulous, especially in glasses,
And we have as good a relationship as can be expected,
Given that we’ve never met.
Offered a choice between
Your good self and The Doctor
I would at first be inclined towards The Doctor
What with the space travel and time travel
And all that.
However, upon serious reflection
I would most likely choose you,
Because you could always pretend to be The Doctor
Then spend the rest of the day
Talking to me in that sexy, sexy accent.
Also, I’m not sure
In spite of having read many works
Of filthily speculative fan-fiction,
Of quite how, biologically speaking,
A Time Lord would go with the making out and so forth,
And I’m sure you appreciate
Quite how critical a concern that would be.
Further, Mr Tennant,
I saw you on Top Gear,
And you were quite adorable,
Much more so than Billie Piper,
So if you’ll just bring the car around to pick me up,
My hatbox and I shall be waiting for you, Mr Tennant,