Category Archives: poems

Wrongful Language: Misnomer

While fixing my laptop, which was overheating, I discovered the problem was that I was using it on top of my lap. It seems that Compaq laptops are not meant for this purpose, to quote the user manual:

‘To reduce the possibility of heat-related injuries or of overheating the computer, do not place the computer directly on your lap’

So in the case of Compaq, ‘laptop’ is a misnomer, like peanut (which is a bean not a nut) or guinea pig (neither from Guinea nor a type of pig).

This reminded me of some old lyrics I wrote in the early nineties, which use a play on the word ‘miss’ similar to that used by a number of female R&B artists for their stage name:

She likes to think that she’s just a loner,

but I like to call her my little Miss Nomer,

hiding behind that loner persona,

I hope she’s had enough,

and life is getting tough,

I’m hoping that she’s coming around.

She is the one who will go down in history,

the only one to stay a bit of a mystery,

and I am hoping that perhaps she will miss me,

I’m hoping it’s getting rough,

that she’s had enough,

I’m hoping that she’s coming around.


The space between the beats

Here is the space between the beats,
that pumps the warmth between our sheets.
This is the space between her feet,
growing longer as the strides down the street,
And I follow her, anywhere.

This is the space in what a sing,
the space is silence ’cause I’m listening (for her).
This is the space in what I see,
the space is her, when she’s not with me,
So I’d follow her, anywhere.

This is the space between the straps,
the space is mine, where her neck meets her back.
This is the space ‘tween her and me,
Growing closer as the days become weeks,
become months, become years,
And I and her, become us,
in everything.

Because this is the space I fill,
a space where I fit so well.

‘Just because’

My son and daughter are both still at the ‘Why?’ age. However they recently gave me a taste of my own medicine. When asked why they were pretending to be hamsters in the imaginary game they were playing the 3-year-old answered, ‘Oh, just because!”

This made me wonder if I am killing their inner philosopher… and think about the general absurdity of some of the things I say to stop the incessant questions.

Because I told you not to.
Because it was your turn yesterday.
Because you need to learn to share.
Because your mother said so.
Because she knows best.
Because you can’t always get your way.
Because we’re not made out of money.
Because money doesn’t grow on trees.
Because you can’t have everything.


 Another pointless proverb poem:

Age before beauty,
The calm before the storm,
The darkest hour,
Is the last before dawn.

Look before you leap,
Pride before a fall,
Tears before bedtime,
Before after, is before.

Don’t cross your bridges,
Don’t count your chickens,
Don’t cast pearls…don’t run.

As clouds gather,
Before the storm,
Before after, is before.

Couldn’t fit my favourites in:

Engage brain before opening mouth

You have to kiss a lot of toads before you find a handsome prince.

Love is…

Love is missing,
missing the kissing,
hating the waiting,
continually stating,
with love I’m not poor,
with you I can roar.

Love is ideal,
an ideal I can feel,
feel the appeal,
conceal then reveal,
with love I’m found out,
with you there’s no doubt.

Love is needing,
leading to breeding,
from staring to pairing,
consuming and caring,
with love I am more,
with you, we are four.

Love is selfless,
selfishly helpless,
make like a rabbit,
friendship and habit,
with love I’m all heart,
with you I’ll not part.

(…for aitch)

Son to sun

A poem from popular proverbs:

A son is a son till he takes a wife,
a daughter is a daughter all her life.

He that would the daughter win,
Must with the mother first begin

In the mother he can behold,
How his wife will look when old,

For a wife’s work is never done,
While he just works from sun to sun.

The mother of all questions

If experience is the mother of wisdom,
and necessity the mother of invention.

If education is the mother of leadership,
and diligence the mother of good fortune.
And if marriage is the mother of the world,
Who’s the daddy?