Floating on the wind, wind, wind,
Life can be a grind, grind, grind,
Then quicker than the wind, wind, wind,
I realise that I’ve grinned, grinned, grinned.
Everytime I read, read, read,
Getting my brain fed, fed, fed,
I wonder if I read, read, read,
More often than I feed, feed, feed.
You see what I did there?
LIVE AND LEARN FROM MONK MONKEY!
Cannons fire in my head,
Left to right and then I’m dead,
When I hear a cannon’s fire,
I wish I lived with the hobbits in The Shire.
Do ya hair ya mug.
Jeremy is at it again. I wish he would just sit in the corner and shut up. Just because no one loves him and he has to look after my bananas doesn’t mean he should get all angsty and write poems…
But… he gave me this one and as his posts seem to double my page hits to 6 or 7, I thought FINE!
In my chrysalis coccoon,
I close my eyes
The spots of red and black appear
Upon my retinal diary. Here
At least until my fear
Are all I pray for,
Is what I wait for,
To wake me too.
A moment to
This morning, Jeremy left his corner for five minutes to visit the toiley. I went to have a look at his area and found: a bottle of water, a used tissue, and this notepad. I took a photo of it to prove that he is the untalented waste of space that I’ve been telling everyone he is.
Last time, I introduced you to the gang who work here with me at the Monkestry. I briefly talked about Jeremy and the little he does here.
Well, Jeremy seems to have enjoyed his five minutes of fame and has written a poem, ‘for your readers to read.’
I hope you enjoy…
I cry when it rains,
Upon the tourists.
They have paid a lot of money
For their holiday to just be ruined.
All of a sudden.
Not that it’s anyone’s fault,
I just don’t want them
To go home and then
Bad mouth our country
Because of the weather.
Monk Monkey forces me
To sleep in a corner of the bingo hall.
That is all.
And this is why