RIP

It was a year today that you were taken from me,
On that warm april night,
We were riding on a wave of freedom,
Our happiness shining bright,
Then that man came out the darkness,
With a face of anger and frowns,
He rammed us with his taxi,
But only you stayed down.

As i got up bruised and bloody,
You were motionless lying there mangled,
Passers by unsure how to help,
Your frame at awkward angles,
The ambulance came to no avail,
Your chances of survival minute,
The taxi driver drove me home,
Your corpse was in the boot.

My bella itilana I've left you now,
For a streamlined french madmoiselle,
I picture you in free-wheeled heaven,
While that Skoda rots in hell,
A greater companion I never did have,
Two days were never alike,
You'll live on in my memory and the parts I salvaged,
My beautiful racing bike.

Fresh

Bournemouth is an odd little place,

Especially in late september,

Clubs heave with wide-eyed youngsters,

Eager to explore what hedonistic delights,

This quaint seaside town has to offer.

Men on the cusp of adulthood,

Still wet behind the ears,

Seek to integrate with strangers of the opposite sex,

And be welcomed with open legs.

I remember when I was the same,

Youthful and fresh-penised,

Back then people had sevens and eights,

On the back of their sixth form hoodies.

We were all as naive as each other,

So in that way it was harmless,

Now it would be like shooting fish in a barrel,

And I've got one big-ass gun.

For Lucy and Berno

To be Christian,

Is a different experience,

A one with which I feel,

Intent and delirious.

Lucy and Berno,

Look so good together,

I feel like they've been,

Together forever,

And of course,

In time they will,

I hope they're loving,

I hope they're chilled,

I praise the groom,

I admire the bride,

And seeing these two married,

Fills me with pride.

NB I wrote this poem on my phone whilst very drunk at the couple's wedding reception, and performed it an hour later to them and the rest of the room as part of the reception's open mic session.

Ode to Ovaltine

Oh warm malty cup of chocolate mirth,

How I have longed for you for hours gone by,

As I sit in front of my computer screen,

My eyes square with every movement of the clock's elongated hand,

One sip is all I need to be transported,

Away from cold empty shared accommodation,

To memories of my grandmother now inhabiting distant lands,

And sitting in front of the fire on cold winter nights,

Alas the warmth is short lived,

So with my last sip I slip,

Into this cold April evening,

Alone once more.