Canker Crabs

My body made lumpy by a hundred cankers

Resembling an infestation of pussy crabs,

Their veiny arms keep them well anchored

As they grow like infected scabs

Each one sits and stares, almost daring me

To scratch and squeeze them-

And though my fingers twitch and desire achingly

I’m good and I stand most firm.

In this battle of wills I won’t fall,

This siege will end when they starve.

So long as I can stay standing tall

I will make a successful charge

From deep within to push them out

And away from my body forever,

Leaving me free and to run and shout

Once more, happily, with our Trevor.

Tweet Repeat 63

A dearth of sweets led the office to ruin,
hitting low after low while
there was no sugar for chewin'

........

When they could no longer coast by
upon sugar highs,
they found themselves down the pan going.

Reflections on a bad decision

Slowly over time that beast had me cankered

Until the point I became completely conquered:

Doomed and totally beyond hope;

Man I felt such a dope

To be taken in by what I knew was evil,

By a slowly burrowing and poisoning weevil

That took its time but wore me down,

To create a brand new follower clown.

And oh! the tumbling acts I performed:

Throwing people from the cliffs, forlorn,

Squeezing information from their lips

By applying hot pokers to their hips;

Even deconstructing human bodies

To hide our acts from searching ploddies.

I did it all and all for shame,

Til our leader to here came

And we were quickerly up-rounded,

To follow him and be impounded,

To sit, waiting for death, and to think

About getting ourselves into this here stink:

From the day I let my conscience slide,

And went off to sail upon a bloody tide.

Tweet Repeat 62

You don't know what an interrobang is‽ The greatest invention of the sixties‽...

...If only more would type or inscribe it, so a keyboard might imbibe it....

To keep it and to carry on, we must fight and tarry on!

A Ceorl

A ceorl,

Whose job was to unfurl

The red carpet for the king,

Once did a very unusual thing.

In a fanciful flight,

He plunged himself to plight,

And exchanged the regal carpet, well strung

For one made entirely of dried dung.

The crowd gasped

As the king set foot, expecting a rasp,

As he realised he was stepping on poo,

But he paused and calmly asked for our fool.

He stepped on forward,

His head bent at the king, toward,

Ready for a slap or his sword,

Buried deep through his gourd.

Instead his liege,

Anointed on him prestige,

Elevated him to the royal entourage,

Something some strangely named espionage.

You see, this ceorl was a lucky bugger,

For this he could have seen a dagger

Come and extricate him like a tumour:

Fortunately the king had a sick sense of humour.