Tag Archives: humor

Fully Sick, Bro!

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12sick

“Cure your ills with these here pills,
As easy as can be.
With my prescription in your hand,
You’ll soon be fit as me!”
The Doctor, smiling, showed me out
And took me by the hand.
His Secretary, smiling too,
Then charged me seven grand!

I hastened to the Pharmacy,
They welcomed me right in.
And when they saw my list of pills,
They wore a hearty grin!
“These pills aren’t on the PBS,
So sad, you’ll have to pay!”
I grabbed my pills and paid the bill,
Still shaking with dismay.

I found my way to Medicare
And settled in a chair.
The crowd of people waiting there
Near drove me to despair.
When my turn came, they shook their heads
And said it’s just the rule:
The scheduled fee is very small,
The refund’s minuscule!

Thankfully, the pills did help,
I’m working overtime.
When I was sick, the bills I paid
Were really quite a crime!
So when someone you know’s taken ill
And turns a little green,
And says, “I can’t afford to be sick!”
You’ll know just what they mean!

Stephen Tomkins
15 November 2014

Roam

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original

We fall asleep and then wake up –
There’s nothing new in that.
It’s where we go when somewhere else
That’s worth a little chat.

It seems that slumber sets us free,
Just how we’ll never know.
Our spirits wander far and wide
To stage their nightly show.

We find ourselves as Presidents,
As tyrants and as Kings,
As heroes and as fugitives,
And a thousand other things.

We fall asleep, we fall in love,
We fall off mighty cliffs.
We save the day, we play guitar,
Composing catchy riffs.

And all the while, we stay at home,
But nothing ever changes;
While round the globe and into space
Our spirit freely ranges.

I like to think, when life is done,
And night becomes eternal,
I’ll find myself still free to roam,
Released from chains nocturnal.

Stephen Tomkins
20 October 2014

Solemate

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There was a girl I used to know,
She, past my desk, would to and fro,
Delivering mail and other things,
A whiff of perfume, I’d have wings!

Infatuation ruled my life
And soon I found myself in strife.
Distracted from my work was I
As back and forth she’d catch my eye.

One day I took my chances, and
With racing heart and trembling hand,
Caught her attention as she passed
And asked her out: she smiled and laughed.

That night I picked her up at eight
On what, I hoped, was our first date.
She said she couldn’t stay too long:
There was a sale on heels.com!

I should have seen the warning signs:
Her interests lay in shoe designs!
She loved her pumps, I now can see,
And leather boots much more than me.

Aghast, I finally understood:
I’d lost her heart to clogs of wood!
So happy did she seem that I
Could only smile and say goodbye.

Stephen Tomkins
2 April 2015

PS. Before I left unnoticed, I left her a note that said:

“I wish you and your shoes many happy years together”.

 

Singapore Storm

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The heavens blackened, down it came!
It never slackened, just the same
The lightning flashed, the thunder roared,
And all the while, the torrents poured.

My ears protested, all in vain
As I ingested airborne rain.
Umbrella useless, shelter nil.
The air took on a nasty chill.

The sun admits defeat and sets;
The moon remains in bed and frets.
Sloshing home, knee-deep in water,
Lightning bolt now poised for slaughter.

Unscathed, I somehow make it back
Without a jump-start heart attack!
In steaming tub, I’m thawing out,
There’s zero chance there’ll be a drought.

Stephen Tomkins
14 March 2015

Guess where?

Dinner For One

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nighthawks-diner-wikipedia

The restaurant was quiet but not for very long.
The volume still was building and now it’s loud and strong.
A flock of eighteen women claimed the tables next to mine,
A-clipping and a-clopping and a-looking very fine.

A gentle wave of perfume softly found its way to me,
A pleasant fresh aroma, an aperitif for free.
The laughter and the chatting, like an endless flood of sound,
Gossiping and joking and occasionally profound.

It seemed to me as though all at the same time they were talking,
Gesticulating, nodding and occasionally some squawking.
They must have paused for breath but just when is not so clear.
It’s very entertaining – a cabaret of cheer!

Stephen Tomkins
12 September 2014

What’s For Tea?

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I simply asked what I should eat;
Advice rained from the sky like sleet:
Eat more of this and less of that.
Avoid all foods containing fat.
Eat less sugar. Eat less salt.
Cook your food by lightning bolt.

Leafy greens and oily fish
Must adorn most every dish.
Eat less red meat, leaner cuts.
Stay alive by eating nuts.
Omega 3 and red krill oil.
Remove the skin and cook in foil.

Right! I think I understand!
At last I have my diet planned.
Wait! The experts changed their mind!
And what did this new research find?
Eat less of this and more of that.
Eat more foods containing fat.

Try more red meat. Add some wine.
Eat what you like! You’re doing fine!
You need more sunlight. Exercise.
Add to your diet more meat pies.
Just wait a while and you’ll agree
It’s very hard to plan your tea!

At least you still can drink my shake
And eat my guilt-free Muffin Bake!
Infomercials? Good advice!
You should try my Wonder Rice!
I like to play upon your guilt,
And thanks to you, my mansion’s built!

Confused-Woman-200x300

Stephen Tomkins
19 November 2014

A Love Story

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He yearns for his beloved through the day and then the night.
Though he does his best to care for her, he hopes she’ll be alright.
His soul cries out in pain each time she disappears from sight,
But the thought of seeing her again, keeps the flame alight.

At last, he has the chance to hold her gently in his arms.
Clearly, he’s affected by her plentiful charms –
Her golden skin, her shapely curves, her long and slender neck.
But when, wide-mouthed, she starts to sing, he nearly hits the deck!

An angel choir greets his ears!
His eyes begin to fill with tears!
To Heaven now he quickly nears,
Blotting out his hopes and fears!

Intuition tells him that, with time, she’ll just get better.
Despite his lack of finances, he knows he has to get her.
Whipping out his credit card, he just can seal the deal!
Homeward bound with new guitar, he knows she was a steal!

Stephen Tomkins
23 July 2014

NOTE: While it is true that the author both plays and owns several guitars,
any resemblance between the character in the poem and any person (living or dead) is purely coincidental.

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Magnificent Isolation

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manycaller

Temple of unearthly white,
Shining beacon in the night,
Moth-like, drawing towards the light,
Seeking icons, black or white.

High Priests robed in royal blue,
Welcome neophytes in too.
Throngs of faithful join the queue,
Latest offerings on debut.

A gentle chant can soon be heard,
Mouthed by fervent convert nerd.
Refrain then joined by zealous herd,
Unrelenting, undeterred:

“iPhone, iPhone, Glorious iPhone!
How I long to make you my phone!
Without you, I’ll be trapped on my own!
Deign, in me, to make your new home!”

The Trinity greets my awe-struck faze,
On entering this most Holy maze,
As iPhone, iPad, iMacs blaze.
A young Priest meets my earnest gaze:

Wearing glasses, oh so Hipster,
And designer jeans by Ripster,
(“Borrowed” from her older sister),
Words pour forth at speeds that blister!

Fleeing from her siren call,
I promptly hit the glassy wall,
And barely manage not to fall,
Running, bleeding, through the mall.

Members of this brazen sect
Are very easy to detect.
“Friends”, by thousands, they confect
With lives that barely intersect.

Educated by Wikipedia,
YouTube and by social media,
Oblivious to the world exterior,
Desperate lest they feel inferior.

Pallid faces float by, serene,
Music fuelling the machine.
Eyes glued to the heavenly screen,
Every message must be seen.

The sun is shining bright today,
Flowers blooming, birds at play.
On their minds, it fails to weigh,
But that, to them, is quite okay!

Stephen Tomkins
27 May 2014

CONFESSION:
The author owns an iPhone, iPhone, Glorious iPhone……

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A Fun Night Out

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“I sense a presence in the room!
A presence coming from the tomb!
She’s saying something, it’s not clear.
She wants to contact someone here.”

Looking round the darkened room,
Their faces clear despite the gloom,
My séance partners looked at me,
Trembling, moaning, like they’d flee.

Incense rose in lazy plumes,
Candles burning, menace looms!
The table rises, shakes about.
A puff of wind and candles out!

One cold beer won’t be enough,
This séance is now getting rough!
Chains are clanking, falling down!
I’ll soon be getting out of town!

A former friend thought it would be
A good idea to see if we
Could contact someone who had died
And hear of life from spirit-side.

I haven’t slept a wink in weeks
And every time a floorboard creaks
I crack my skull upon the roof
Or maybe it’s a cloven hoof?

Stephen Tomkins
14 February 2015

Time’s A-Wasting!

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tired-man

It’s been so long since I have slept,
It’s clear at sleeping, I’m inept.
I’ve laid in bed at night and wept
And round the darkened house I’ve crept.

If you’ll permit me to explain
And forgive my seeming to complain,
Please don’t regard me with disdain,
And be assured I’m not insane.

It all began some years ago,
When I was dealt a heavy blow.
Sleep was then an easy task
but now it’s an enormous ask.

I woke one morning quite refreshed
And took for granted nightly rest.
It seems my lack of gratitude
Erased my restful aptitude.

From that day forward to today,
I’ve, every night, been made to pay.
I refused to take it lying down,
But, over time, have been worn down.

Every treatment in the book
Is little more than gobbledygook.
I’ve tried them all and I can tell you
There are even some that would repel you.

I’ve jazzercised, been tranquillised,
And sleeping I have visualised,
Eaten lots and had some shots
And even been tied up in knots!

Meditation, incantation,
Frontal-lobely amputation,
Failed to yield a shortish nap!
I even found a sleeping app!

I gave up all forms of caffeine,
Retreated from the social scene,
Tried dancing and some French Champagne,
And even snorted cheap cocaine!

Sought a creepy Voodoo guy,
Who looked at me with watery eye,
“Relief you soon will come to know,
On me, your worldly goods bestow!”

I ran around and round the room,
Heard peaceful music in the gloom.
I starved myself and got so bored,
While all around me people snored!

I tried my doctor, said I’m ill,
But he just thought that I’m a dill,
Prescribed me several largish pills
And sent me frequent largish bills.

My sense of humour’s wearing thin,
I’ve tried to take it on the chin.
With enormous, bloodshot, saucer eyes,
I’ve slowly come to realise

That this whole sleep-thing’s overrated.
Its benefits can be debated.
I’m living proof that we don’t need
To yield to sleep’s voracious greed!

And though it still remains seductive,
At work, I’m now the most productive.
And while I may not have the looks,
I’ve loads of time for reading books!

tired-worried-man

Stephen Tomkins
1 June 2014