Funny Poems / Stuff
I'm a performance poet so my stuff is written to be performed. So, remember, although it can be read OK off the page, it's better when it's read out loud by me! Hopefully I'll be getting some stuff recorded, then you'll be able to hear for yourself.
Other pages are divided into three sections:
The serious stuff can be found on the serious poems page and for all you budding Betjemen's out there check out the kid's poems page.
- A Poem Every Day.
- I Went Clothes Shopping.
- Turning Forty.
- Washing for Girls.
- Super Biscuit.
- The Sump Hunt.
- Sunday Morning TV.
- Why Can't Men Hang Out Washing?.
- What are we Protecting our Children from?.
- Brenda.
- Love in My Garden.
- The Magic of Spring Time.
- Love on a Plate.
- Eulogy for Paul McKenna.
- Embarrassing Medical Conditions.
- Mr Charisma.
- Poetry Spews out of me.
- Sarah Comes Round.
- So-Called Friend.
- Take That.
- We Women.
- £5's worth of love.
- Marital Barbs.
- Straightforward.
A Poem Every Day
I have set myself the goal
Of one poem every day
If I only live for another week
That's seven poems
That doesn't seem too hard
Let's hope I get hit by a bus
© Kate Tym
I Went Clothes Shopping
I went clothes shopping
With a shopper's eye and a poet's ear
I bought two items
A dress of suedette
A jumper of chenille
I didn't like the way they looked
I didn't like the feel
But they sounded great
© Kate Tym
Turning Forty
I've just turned forty
Still naughty at forty that's what all the cards say
But I wasn't really naughty before
So does it really count?
And do I now have to start getting nifty
In readiness for fifty?
© Kate Tym
Washing for Girls
In a house full of girls
The washing machine whirls and whirls and whirls
It whirls with one more load than you think
There's a light load, a dark load and a load that is pink
© Kate Tym
Super Biscuit
Wilbur and me invented a Super Biscuit
We manufactured it in our kitchen
We took a mint-chocolate Matchmaker
And stuffed it inside a Marks and Spencer melt-in-the-mouth biscuit curl
It was a biscuit, but not as we know it
It was Super Biscuit
We bit through the golden shell of the biscuit curl
Into the velvety smoothness of the minty choc
Our biscuit rocked
We felt elated
We rated our biscuit above all others
We were brothers in biscuity arms
We had created a Super Biscuit
Later, on the couch, we argued over who had eaten all the Cheesy Wotsits
I pointed out our Super Biscuit collaboration of earlier in the day
Wilbur relented
Our relationship cemented by the Super Biscuit
We created and ate several more in celebration
Our elation reinvigorated
We were smug inventors of the Super Biscuit
And we felt slightly sick
© Kate Tym
The Sump Hunt
My car's sump is broken
My husband has sent me
To a garage in Seaford
To get a salvaged one for
Fifty quid
My friend Claire has come with me
We feel like Thelma and Louise
Two girls in a man's world
It's a dump
The place of the sump
But it's a manly dump
It is covered in tyres
And broken bits of cars
And we like that
There are oily men
In overalls
We smile at them
As we show them the old
Sump off my car
'Here is my sump,' I say provocatively
It is not the same as the spare sump he has
'You've had a wasted journey,' he says
But it is not wasted
For a moment Claire and I felt the power
Of the mechanic's wrench
And our engines quietly purred.
© Kate Tym
Sunday Morning TV
On Sunday mornings
We sometimes stick the kids in front of a video
So we can have a shag
Lots of telly, for the kids, is generally not my bag
But on this occasion I'll make an exception
If it gives me time to focus on my husband's erection
Spongebob Squarepants the video of choice
Our silent rutting accompanied by Spongebob's distant voice
I don't feel too bad about the telly viewing
If the kids stay oblivious to what Mum and Dad are doing
And it doesn't take very long for us to do our stuff
In fact one episode is more than enough
Spongebob is brilliant - deserving an ovation
For Sunday morning telly and parental fornication
© Kate Tym 2009
Why Can't Men Hang Out Washing?
Men are logical creatures
So why can't they hang out washing?
There's a logic to it
A way to do it
That ensures eveness of drying
And crease free clothes
My husband hasn't mastered those
He says it's because he
Operates on a higher plane
I say it's because he's an idiot.
© Kate Tym
What are we Protecting our Children from?
What are we protecting our children from?
Big bums
Saggy tits
Old ladies wrinkly bits
Cellulite
Caesarean scars
What we look like out of bras
Wobbly thighs
Overgrown bushes
Knobbly knees
And skinny tushes
Bingo wings
Tampon strings
And other really scary things
Like growths and moles
And belly button holes
No two people are alike
Fluffy girly
Big butch dike
All of them have their place
In the fabulous human race
Yet the naked form is not the norm
Unless it's trimmed and tucked
The concept's fucked
My girls can see anorexic clones
Ribby chests jutting bones
Barbie dolls with blow-up knockers
Here's the shocker
Real breasts don't look like that
Some are deflated, sucked flat
From feeding babies
And d'you know what?
Maybe that's OK.
© Kate Tym
Brenda
There was a woman I only saw at parties
Brenda is her name
And every time I saw her it was the same
She would get me in a corner
And tell me everything that was wrong in her life
She was a wife of man who didn't understand
Her son was a grunting teen
And she was stuck in between
Him and her husband arguing over every little thing
She struggled with her job
And even her dog was unwell
I tell you Kate 'my life is hell'
She'd say whenever I saw her
And the irony was
My life was hell
I was a single mum
My ex was an alcoholic
I'd moved away from London
To a town where I knew no-one
To come to a party was a very big deal
I had to put things in place
I had to pay a babysitter
I had to go on my own
And stand anxiously in a corner
Trying to look like I felt OK
When I didn't
And then there was Brenda
Making me wish I'd stayed
At home with my screaming infants
Which would be preferable
to listening to her
Suicidal small talk
And then my life changed
I met someone
My salvation
I joined the nation
Of normal people
Whose lives tick along
Quite nicely thank you
And then there was a party
I felt fine about it
A party, with my man on my arm
A party where I could afford the babysitter
A party where the shittness of my life wouldn't
Be brought into sharp focus because my life wasn't shit anymore
And then, there was Brenda
I tried to avoid her
Hid in a corner
But eventually I could see her
Making a b-line for me
I felt my heart sink
But then, I thought
No, it's OK
It's not like it was before
Nothing she can say can bring me down
I'm in a good place
I can face her
'Hi Brenda' I said 'How are you?'
'My Mum and Dad came to stay,' she said, 'I opened the front door and my dad had a heart attack and died right in front of my eyes.'
Oh Brenda you really are one super-dooper party pooper.
© Kate Tym
Love in My Garden
Rupert loves Henry
And the love is returned
Grooming each other
With gentle pink-tongued licks
Where Rupert trots on
His porcine legs
Henry bobs behind
The eager paramour
Doting on his beloved
Seeing a future of cavie decrepitude
Filled with lapin servitude
Henry lives to love Rupert
So if Rupert exits life's arena
Before his beloved companion
Our only recourse will be
To set our Henry free
And put him out of his misery
With a lethal bunny injection
© Kate Tym
The Magic of Spring Time
Hocus-pocus, there's a crocus!
Love on a Plate
Like a cheap chicken
I overfeed you
Forcing you to gain weight
With every mouthful
I think you're getting
My love on a plate
Does it matter
That you lick clean every platter
And get fatter and fatter?
When I see the delight
Night after night
Of polishing off
My Stroganoff
Loving my lasagne
The fleeting moment
Of satisfying satiation
Is tangible, edible
Incredible
And yet at night
When we go to bed
I stroke your head
And say 'My God you're fat -
How the hell did you get like that?!'
© Kate Tym
Eulogy for Paul McKenna
Paul McKenna made me thinner
He stopped me eating so much dinner
© Kate Tym
Embarrassing Medical Conditions
Recently I had to have a wart
Frozen off my bottom
The wart, I thought was about as
Embarrassing as I wanted to get
And yet
In a twist of fate that was almost uncanny
A week later, I got an abscess on my fanny
© Kate Tym
Mr Charisma
My friend has a husband
I call him Mr Charisma
He has been scrubbed clean
Of any personality
He comes to drop off my kids after play dates
I say, 'all right, mate,' through gritted teeth
Then heave a sigh of relief as I close the door
'Imagine a night in with him!' I say to my husband
'He is so unbelievably boring'
My husband doesn't reply
He is on the couch in front of the telly
Fast asleep and snoring
© Kate Tym
Poetry Spews out of me
Poetry spews out of me
It bubbles up ferociously
Sometimes I try to hold it back
Like a belch welling up
In polite company
But it gets the better of me
It demands my attention
Itches at my brain on the school run
Nags at me like a guilty conscience
Until I succumb
Dive into my poetry habit
Get my fix
Stop my clucking
And even out
Yes poetry spews out of me
And it's better out than in.
© Kate Tym
Sarah Comes Round
Sarah comes round
I give her tea
And commence moaning
It's all about me
Me Me Me Me Me
My hopes
My disappointments
My aspirations
My dental appointments
She listens
She offers words of advice
She is nice
Then she goes home and says to Steve
'I don't know why I go round there,
that bloody woman never shuts up!'
Thanks mate,
Lots of love, Kate xxx
© Kate Tym
So-Called Friend
Life's a set of stepping stones
We hop we skip we jump
Sometimes we slip and stumble
Fall down with a bump
I had marched across life's stones
Extending my hand to you
Guiding you over the wobbly bits
Helping to pull you though
And then came a gap
Too wide for me to straddle
I turned to you, hand extended
You looked offended
And pushed me in
Shit Creek without a paddle
© Kate Tym
Take That
Take That
Don't they look cute
In an M and S suit
I would like to undress them
Loosen their ties
Stroke their thighs
Yes, even Gary Barlow
Has something about him I like
Although Howard and Jason
Are easier to imagine
Coupling with
And Mark Owen
I could do some goin' with him
I'd like to be covered in Take That
Man fat
I imagine a fivesome
Them and me
I'd relight their fire
I'd never tire of
Their boy band banging
In a tangle of Take That limbs
I know it's not right
I feel contrite after the fantasy has faded from my mind
But Take That
Don't they look cute in an M and S suit
© Kate Tym
We Women
We women work
We women worry
We women clean
We women hurry
We women love
We women laugh
We women talk about men
'Oh you know what they’re like!' we say
But do we?
Sometimes I don't know my one at all
He is weirdly mannish
Not like a woman
But I like to shag him
So I guess that's OK
© Kate Tym
£5's worth of love
Saturday 14th Febuary
I stood outside Tesco Express
One dozen red roses for £5 the sign said
Disappointment in bouquet form
It might as well have read
'I love you, but only £5's worth of love
I love you but only if it requires zero effort, zero thought
And a creativity factor of nought
My heart is full
But only to the extent
Allocated by a Tesco's marketing guy
In a drive to make you buy, buy, buy. '
For Tesco - a fleeting promotional campaign
But for womankind?
A romantic gesture
Left to fester in a supermarket bucket
Fuck it, we'd rather have nothing.
So men of Britain listen up
The way to a woman's heart is not through
A pre-packed, shrink wrapped, forced flower display
It comes in a different way
Knowing you left your zone of comfort
Entered the female world of flowers
Communicated
Thought
Considered
Hand picked every rose
And paid, of course, through the nose
© Kate Tym 2009
Marital Barbs
During fits of pique
My husband has a clever way
Of finding the barb that hurts the most
And firing it straight into
The pumping muscle of my heart
Once lodged
Its acrid juice cuts loose
And heads for my brain
Where the pain
Increases
Releases
Thoughts of worthlessness
And worry
Doubting the validity of my relationship
And yet
The rest of the time
He's a thoroughly nice bloke
© Kate Tym 2009
Straightforward
I don't do esoteric
I write in a straightforward way
I say what I want to say
I don't veil things in
Metaphorical whimsy
I could try
To be less dry
Less to the point
To anoint you in a shower
Of flowery poetical musings
But why make it so confusing
When I can tell it how it is
In words of a straightforward nature?
Sometimes I would like to be
Fashionably vague
The mistress of hidden meaning
Leaving you gleaning
Nuances
Drawing your own conclusions
What do you think I'm saying?
Well, what do you think I'm saying?
I'm saying
I don't do esoteric
I write in a straightforward way
As obviously as I dare
And if you think there's nothing to it
The way I do it
I don't really care
© Kate Tym 2009
