brought cake to work today
Which everyone rejected,
For Nige has several hygiene problems
And some say he’s infected.
Ungrateful Nigel
Nigel’s so ungrateful
For I feed him once a day
And I clear his poop up once a month
But he doesn’t want to stay.
He says his cage is just too small,
And is too far from the ground,
And he hates it when I grab the bars,
And spin him round and round.
He says he needs some space to move,
And some light to help him see,
And warmth to stop him shivering
And a bucket for his wee.
But I am bored by Nigel’s needs,
I’ve no time for luxuries.
He’ll have to live with what he’s got
And show some thanks to me.
More Cake
Nigel has cake!
But for goodness sake!
Make sure you don’t have any,
For Nigel doesn’t wash his hands,
When he goes to spend a penny.
I Have Issues With Nigel
I hate Nigel.
I hate his kids.
I even hate his wife.
I hate his house, his car, his dog,
I hate Nigel’s entire life.
The next time Nigel visits me
I’ll punch him in the face,
And I’ll kick him in the testicles,
For he’s a useless waste of space.
Nigel’s Written Work
Nigel doesn’t understand
The need for punctuation
That sentences are far too long
Without correct truncation
He rambles on and on and on
Missing any comprehension
A full stop here and there would mean
No need for explanation
But Nigel laughs, ignores our calls
For paragraph formation
He writes his words continuously
Just causing more frustration
But soon we all have had enough
Of Nigel’s rambling script
So we push him backwards down the stairs
And tell the world he tripped
Sleepy Nigel
Our Nigel looks so very tired,
He’s got rings around his eyes.
And if ever ask him something
He just crumples down and cries.
His employer wasn’t happy,
And they told him he was fired,
And he hasn’t worked for ages,
Because he’s just so very tired.
He simply can’t stop yawning,
Says he’s nearly at the end.
His skin is thin magnolia,
He’s a truly broken friend.
The exhaustion is consuming,
And he aches down to his core,
And yet I don’t feel guilty,
Indeed, I plan to do it more!
For every night at bedtime,
When he wants to feel serene,
I always tweak his Horlicks,
With a big spoon of caffeine.
LET’S BE SERIOUS
After the Storm
The storm had washed him
Far onto the beach,
Where the sand was dry
And out of waters reach.
Unaccustomed to the stillness
He gazed along the shore,
His familiar world of crashing seas
And turbulence no more.
No need to swim or stay afloat.
Or wait in vain for a rescue boat.
The panic though did not subside,
And still he tried to swim.
Frantic kicking, thrusting arms,
All that was known to him.
Until he found his clarity,
And realised he was free.
Calm and safe and distant
From the torment of the sea.
Goodbye
How is your sadness on this day?
Said the man who had come
To take mammy away.
Words well rehearsed, yet sincere and true,
Him providing the service
The home couldn’t do.
Be kind, be gentle, ensure you respect her,
She was our mammy, be soft, be tender.
We all loved her dearly, please treat her with care,
Dress her correctly and brush her hair.
How is your sadness on this day?
Said the man who had come to take mammy away
“On Sunday morning, my mammy died”
“And I ache with sadness”, I replied.
Abstinence
I face a Devil’s picnic,
For which I have no need,
Sugar, Caffeine, Beef and Beer,
All calling me to feed.
Urban Heart Attack
Arterial route from east to west,
A city crushed with cardiac arrest,
Thick with vile traffic congestion,
Use your bike is my suggestion.
Self Employed
Unable to pause (no time to ponder)
About life’s flaws (no time to wonder)
Hurry, hurry, flat out,
Keep moving, dashing about,
Rushing faster, no time to stop,
If I work any harder then I think I’ll drop.
No time to breath (just gasp if I can)
The impossible schedule of the self employed man.
Duvet Duvet
“It’s safe under here” said the man who was smaller,
Than people perceived him, for they saw him taller.
A man who had burdens that earned him respect,
Admiration from all for his business intellect.
Multiple tasking and memory elastic,
Motivating staff so they feel fantastic.
Suppressing the stress so no one could see,
The regret of promotion, the desire to be free.
Calm on the outside yet inside he’s choking,
Panic filled thoughts despite all his joking.
Calling timeout when the diary is bursting,
Customers moaning and swearing and cursing.
Rushing straight home and locking the door,
Sucking his thumb curled up on the floor.
“I’ll be big tomorrow, but not today”
Said the man hiding under his 10 tog duvet.
The Runner’s Paradox
I want the finish,
I crave the finish,
The finish is my friend,
And yet the black dog waits for me,
For finish marks the end.
A Poem To Sing With Friends
(or loudly and alone, in the centre of town)
Bring along a bing bong,
Ding a dong a ping pong,
Ring a ding a sing song,
Plop plop plop.
Mandatory Action
I trust you liked my poetry,
And I hope it made you smile,
Please tell the world about this book,
Before you throw it on the pile.
Use your social media,
Make sure you shout it loud and clear,
Tell your friends,
Your mum, your gran,
Tell anyone who’s near!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robby Dundee is a marathon running father of three who lives with his wife in York, England. Born in Middlesbrough, he has also lived in Birmingham and Wakefield, and has worked in France, Holland and Italy.
As well as a long career in IT, Robby has also worked as a market trader, a key cutter, an ink cartridge engineer, an end of life vehicle specialist, a car washer, a project manager, a motor dealer, a computer shop owner, a virtual office entrepreneur, a web developer, a computer programmer, a work study officer in the sewing industry, a bingo hall ca
rd checker, a pizza delivery man and a Sudoku grid creator.
In 1985, aged 12, he started a business selling bespoke poems to residents in his street. Business was brisk, until his mother found out, and she marched him up the road to return all the cash.
www.RobbyDundee.com