Where are you?

Where are you?

By jfarrell


Jim….. Jim….. JIM!!!!

Where are you?


“sorry, was racing my dinosaur through the Martian forest;

Trying to evade the two assassins, after my bounty…..)


Oops! Sorry, was polishing spoons….

Bing! (eyes widen and sparkle)

Big shiny SHINY smile…

With all the noises of a grand-grand-grandfather clock going off…

I raise my head….


And it drops to my chest..


My fontanel slides open,

A million ants emerge and erect a scaffold around my shoulders

And a giant, bright pink crane

Raises my head fully


“yes, sir. What were you saying?”

I mumble, as I stupidly hand you some spoons to polish.


Jim, where are you?

“I’m at work, handing you spoons, aren’t I?”

No! You’re in the laundrette, in your underwear again…. dancing…

I really gotta get more sleep… don’t know what day it is…


Nevermind where I am.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

a bit of fun

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I’m not the messiah.. (he’s a…)

I’m not the messiah.. (he’s a…)

     By jfarrell



(thank you, monty python)


I am not the messiah;

I hope you know that….

I too stupid to be anything other than honest.


Instead of wallowing here, in this hole…

I could sweet-talk old ladies outta their savings;

But that would make me feel bad.


A way with words is, apparently, the only real skill I have;

And for someone who doesn’t talk a lot,

I can be very careless with words.


I could easily make a suicide cult :)

But I imagine the pay is disappointing;

And the perks… shagging everything I want


Not really me,

Though,sometimes, I sorely wish it was;

Everyone, die on my command.


I can see how that would appeal.

You read my ramblings

And I feel, YES, I AM, but I don’t want the job.


Why do you read me?

I am nothing, a mote upon the wind of the cosmos;

But so many of you read my stuff


And say nice things;

And, sometimes, scarey things?

Please tell me why, I am nothing.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

and i'm not a very naughty boy, either :) well, that website doesn't count...

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The slug slimes back

The slug slimes back

By jfarrell


I did a trial shift at a peri-peri chicken store;

It didn’t work out;

After cutting my thumb

I just felt like a case of mass food poisoning waiting to happen;

And seeing how swiftly I nearly bethumbed myself

Serious physical harm to my colleagues

Was also a possibility;

I learnt

My future does not lie in cooking.


I also, once worked a shift as telephone operator,

For a cab firm; a Friday night;

Between my “h…h.hh… hello…p….p…and…..”

And my manager shouting at me to stop stuttering

After I again put the phone down with nothing to write down;

They paid me off that night, “never come back”

I don’t blame them

But the next week they closed down!

I feel my stutter put a cab firm out of business;

I reckon answering telephones is not a good career choice.


I did cook for my nursery once; 100 or so children;

That went very well :)

Halfway through my cooking chilli con carne

I was asked if I’ve soaked the kidney beans? Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

McDonald’s all round.


And my first primary school trip,

With me as the leader;

Think we wrecked Madam Twoswords

(and I know it spelt wrong, too lazy to get correct spelling)


Hope this has been more lighthearted

Than my recent output


Author's Notes/Comments: 

who you gonna call? "slugbusters"

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Boris Johnson as Delboy Trotter

Boris Johnson as Delboy Trotter

By JFarrell


“El dolce est decorum…” he says

Waving a hand nonchalantly

Just because he uses Latin phrases

Doesn’t mean he’s using them correctly

Like Delboy with his French phrases

And his ridiculous heavy south London accent

The pronunciation exaggerated his ignorance

Of what he was saying;

Boris uses a posh accent

And everyone falls for the super-intelligence act.


If “Allo, Allo”, “Only Fools and Horses”

And “Upstairs, Downstairs” had a love child

Boris would be it.


Don’t laugh

With how our current prime minister is doing

He could be our next Prime Minister

Leading demand for a second referendum on Europe

Leading the Remain campaign

And he’d probably end up

The most popular prime minister ever


Author's Notes/Comments: 

welcome President Boris Johnson

Inspired by English exercise to write a news report

Inspired by English exercise to write a news report


In an astounding interview yesterday the Foreign Secretary, Boris Johnson, apologised for his involvement in the Brexit campaign.

He said “It is clear people were misled badly over the consequences of Brexit. I deeply and humbly apologize for my role in this deception and will do all I can to fix the mess I’ve made.”

He went on to say that he feels it is his “responsibility” to initiate a vote of “no confidence” in the Prime Minister, Teresa May. “In these times of crisis, it is clear that my Right honourable friend is not up to the task of providing the “strong and stable leadership” we need. El dolce est decorum… or some other meaningless Latin expression to baffle the stupid.”

When asked how he intends to fix it, he answered “I will urge for a second referendum and lead the Remain campaign.”

In response to this announcement LBC presenter and former UKIP leader, Nigel Farage, dragged himself away from his pint to say “I think it is a very noble and courageous act that Boris has performed today. It is bravery like this that demands my full support and convinces me that Boris would be an excellent prime minister.”

Michael Gove was unavailable for comment, though he could be heard screaming “Devious bastard!” from within his parliamentary office.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

breaking news...

I say, I say, about this book….

I say, I say, about this book….

By JFarrell


I say, I say, about this book…..

Look at that mountain,

Does it look like I write books?


Oh, please forgive me,

You probably do not recognise me,

It has been a long while.

I’m God, so pleased to make your acquaintance,

I designed this little paradise,

Quite a while a go.


Then got called out on a job;

After all, one has to pay one’s bills.

Forgot all about this place.


I was driving home listening to Radio 4’s Christian hour,

What a secret pleasure, rather like listening to Monty Python on acid;

Laughed so much, nearly rear-ended the police car in front of me.

But, about this book….


I do not write books,

I make mountains, and I create microscopic snowflakes,

Why the hell would I write a book?


Look around you,

Every mountain, flower, cloud, living creature, raindrop, snowflake and rainbow,

If you can’t see “I love you” written there,



I did not write this book.

MEN wrote this book.



Just a bit of fun :)


Author's Notes/Comments: 

harmless bit of fun

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Last Night

Last Night

By Jfarrell


Last night,

as I lay my head upon my pillow,

To sleep,

I held a picture in my mind…


The swing on your porch;

I sat there,

With you in my arms.

My arms around your shoulder,

Holding you close;

Your arms around my waist,

Holding me, a little tighter.

Your head upon my shoulder,

Your hair crowning the both of us,

Like a silken pillow.

Th light breeze,

Plays with strands of your hair,

Caressing my cheek gently, tenderly,

Like angel’s kisses.

We sat like that for hours.


It must have been,

A little after three,

You raised your head from my shoulder,

There was a strange glint in your eye,

As you sat astride me,

And screamed aloud

“Your queen must ride her stallion,

Break him in,

Make sure he knows who’s in control!”


I could only dumbly smile,

And willingly submit.


What came next was not sex.

It was the purest of love.

The joining of body, soul,

Spirit and heart.

It was joy,

It was ecstasy,

It was very noisy.

I don’t know if we woke the neighbours,

But we scared the life out of

Every living animal,

In a five mile radius.

The roar of the escape

Sounded like a stampede of elephants.


After our yearning,

Our need,

Was satisfied, fulfilled,

We returned to the swing.


To sit entwined,

In each other’s arms

With your head on my shoulder.

I kiss your crown.


My queen, I am so in love with you.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

hope you love this

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The Poet

For Print

Of late I have been subject to some ridicule
for the volume of my rhymes has been minuscule
and if that's not enough to make one contrite
I have been asked why I even bother to write

As a poet, I am not prolific
for my work tends to be specific
I only write when something stirs my passion
birthing verse needlessly is not my fashion

As to the question why
you might as well question the blue sky
or changing of seasons
nature of things require no reasons

I write simply to satisfy my soul
beauty of the verse makes me whole
and if my sharp wit has ever offended
so too my verse have often mended

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Cat And Dog (Cat, Dog, Sang)

Cat and dog are at it again
they're trying to impresss me,
but they are not fooling anyone
by singing for their food, daily.

I can't wait to hear this
wonder what song they'll sing,
it may be blues or even dance
such happiness to them, it brings.

I think it's torture on the ears
hearing them every single day,
I'm starting to think they're tone deaf
in each and every way.

Stand in front of the fireplace
snapping fingers and tapping toes,
they sang their song to me
they'd sing high, then go very low.

It's something they just came up with
didn't make any sense to me,
they even took turns dancing
I was tired of listening to their plea.

One would howl, the other meow
but not in the way you'd think,
they had switched places, you see
I heard giggling, then they'd wink.

I thought that was pretty clever
even for a dog and cat,
they'd twirl their canes, 'round and 'round
as I watched them tip their hats.

I think that maybe this time
they had outsmarted me,
they stood there with smiles
when they saw me with food AND treats.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem written for children. I figured I'd put a little humour close to the end.