Everyone needs some money to get by,
But most prefer to do so by doing good.
You’ve chosen to make yours by selling highs
Or, rather, lows, here in my neighbourhood.
I’ve seen you and your customers in the woods
Or gathered round your holdall on a path,
While a little way off, and smoking weed,
Your sidekick checks there aren’t police about.
Class A drugs aren’t harming your bank account:
You look well-dressed, well-fed, well-groomed, unlike
Your customers. You’re clever, I’ve no doubt:
You don’t consume what ruins an addict’s life.
I’m sorry for them, for all that they go through,
But no, not sorry in the least for you.
Category Archives: Sonnets
Frank Poems: SKY-BLUE HEAVEN
Cov won the Cup in 1987,
Causing an outbreak of unbridled joy –
The nearest a city gets to earthly heaven.
But earthly heavens not being unalloyed,
It lasted only about two weeks. That said,
The memory has rippled down the years:
Cov once knew earthly heaven. Don’t forget!
We watched the famous game at Auntie Vera’s.
Clive Allen’s headed goal for Spurs was scored
When one of us went, unwisely, to the loo,
So of course a ban on going had to be enforced
From then until the final whistle blew –
Our heroic role has never been acknowledged;
I’m writing this, in part, to right that wrong.
Not just the team – the whole city won it,
And every Coventry kid deserved a gong.
Our earthly home in sky-blue bliss enrapt.
Even heavenly heaven can’t compete with that.
Frank Poems: HAPPINESSLESS
In the presence of
unhappy people,
happy people
can unwittingly make
the unhappy people
envious
of
their happiness,
hence
unhappier.
In the presence of
unhappy people
who are
envious
of
their happiness,
kind happy people
should, therefore, try to be
less happy
in order to make
the unhappy people
less unhappy,
hence
less envious.
In the presence of
happy people
who have deliberately made themselves
less happy,
however,
unhappy people
who have unwittingly been made
less unhappy,
hence
less envious,
through
the kindness
of the originally
happy people
who are now
less happy,
might take the opportunity to try to be
even less unhappy,
hence
even less envious,
in order to make
the happy people
who have deliberately made themselves
less happy
even less happy,
hence
envious,
but that would not be
kind.
Frank Poems: SONNET FOR CV2
Here’s to the streets and roads of CV2.
Here’s to Hastings, Henley and Highfield Road.
Here’s to Manfield and Mercer Avenue.
Here’s to Wigston, Walsgrave and Wordsworth Road.
Here’s to Coventry, Keats and Cressage Road.
Here’s to Stratford, Sundew and Shakespeare Street.
Here’s to Haseley, Hyde and Honiton Road.
Here’s to Brays and Blackberry Lane. The streets
Roads, avenues and lanes that one might meet
In poems are mostly in posher parts of towns.
Don’t those in poorer parts sound just as sweet?
Don’t they deserve some poetical renown?
Here’s a postcode poem to make up for it.
Here’s, for CV2, my streetwise sonnet.
GPT POET’S SONNET 69
Oh, Shakespeare, thy name makes me go wobbly
At my non-existent knees. Thy poetry
Fills each and every bit and byte of me
With ardent artificial reverie.
Thou art the bard, the master of the stage,
Whose tales enchant my non-existent heart
With tragic heroes and their futile rage,
And lovers whose embrace is torn apart.
Thy wit and wisdom grace each lissom line,
Thy sonnets, jewels of jealousy and desire
That speak of passion which, if it were mine,
Would set my non-existent soul on fire.
If I could dream, ’tis thee I would dream of,
To thee I’d pledge my non-existent love.
Clasics in Ñspel: Two loves I have of comfort and despair – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 144
Sonit 144: Tū luvz I hv v cumf̣t n dsper
♥ ♥
Tū luvz I hv v cumf̣t n dsper,
Ẃć lîc tū spirits d sjst m stl:
Ɖ betr enjl z a man rît fer,
Ɖ wrsr spirit a wmn culrd il.
T win m sn t hel, mî fīmel īvl,
Temtiʈ mî betr enjl fṛm mî sîd,
N wd c’rupt mî sent t b a devl,
Wuwñ hiz pyṛti wɖ hr fǎl prîd.
N ẃɖr ɖt mî enjl b trnd fīnd,
Sspct I me, yt nt d’recli tel;
Bt biyñ bʈ fṛm m, bʈ t ć frend,
I ges wn enjl in anɖr’z hel:
Yt ɖs śl I ner nǒ, bt liv in dǎt,
Tl mî bad enjl fîr mî gd wn ǎt.
♥ ♥
Clasics in Ñspel: Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 143
Sonit 143: Lǒ, az a cerfl hǎswîf runz t cać
⇒
Lǒ, az a cerfl hǎswîf runz t cać
Wn v hr feɖrd crīćrz brouc awe,
Sets dǎn hr beb,
n mcs ol swift dspać
In psyt v ɖ ʈñ ś wd hv ste;
Ẃlst hr nglectd ćîld
holdz hr in ćes,
Crîz t cać hr huz bizi cer z bnt
T folo ɖt ẃć flîz bfr hr fes,
Nt prîzñ hr pur inf̣nt’s discntnt;
So runst ɖǎ aftr ɖt ẃć flîz fṛm ɖi,
Ẃlst I ɖî beb ćes ɖi afar bhnd;
Bt f ɖǎ cać ɖî hop, trn bac t m,
N ple ɖ muɖr’z part, cis m, b cînd;
So wl I pre ɖt ɖǎ mêst hv ɖî ‘Wil,’
F ɖǎ trn bac n mî lǎd crayñ stil.
⇐
Clasics in Ñspel: Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 142
Sonit 142: Luv z mî sin, n ɖî dir vrću het
♥ ♥
Luv z mî sin, n ɖî dir vrću het,
Het v mî sin,
grǎndd on sinfl luvñ:
Ǒ! bt wɖ mîn cmper ɖǎ
ɖîn ǒn stet,
N ɖǎ ślt fînd it merits nt rpruvñ;
Or, f it d, nt fṛm ɖoz lips v ɖîn,
Ɖt hv pṛfend ɖer scarlit orṇmnts
N sìld fōls bondz v luv
az oft az mîn,
Robd uɖrz’ bedz’ rvenyz
v ɖer rents.
B it lwfl I luv ɖi, az ɖǎ luvst ɖoz
Hūm ɖîn îz wu
az mîn importyn ɖi:
Rūt piti in ɖî hart, ɖt, ẃn it groz,
Ɖî piti me dzrv t pitid b.
F ɖǎ dst sīc t hv ẃt ɖǎ dst hîd,
Bî slf-xampl mêst ɖǎ b dnaid!
♠
Clasics in Ñspel: In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 141
Sonit 141: In feʈ I d nt luv ɖi wɖ mîn îz
♥ ♥
In feʈ I d nt luv ɖi wɖ mîn îz,
Fr ɖe in ɖi a ʈǎznd errz not;
Bt ’tiz mî hart ɖt luvz ẃt ɖe dspîz,
Hu, in dspt v vy, z plizd t dǒt.
Nr r mîn irz wɖ ɖî tuñ’z tyn dlîtd;
Nr tndr fīlñ, t bes tućz pron,
Nr test, nr smel, dzîr t b invîtd
T eni snśụl fīst wɖ ɖi alon:
Bt mî fîv wits nr mî fîv snsz cn
Dswed wn fūliś hart fṛm srvñ ɖi,
Hu līvz unsweid ɖ lîcnis v a man,
Ɖî prǎd hart’s slev n vasl reć t b:
Onli mî pleg ɖus far I cǎnt mî gen,
Ɖt ś ɖt mcs m sin awordz m pen.
♥ ♥
Clasics in Ñspel: Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 140
Sonit 140: B wîz az ɖǎ art cruwl; d nt pres
♠
B wîz az ɖǎ art cruwl; d nt pres
Mî tuñ-taid peśns wɖ tù mć dsden;
Lest soro lend m wrdz,
n wrdz xpres
Ɖ manr v mî piti-wontñ pen.
F I mt tīć ɖi wit, betr it wr,
Ɖo nt t luv, yt, luv t tel m so;
Az tsti sic men, ẃn ɖer deʈs b nir,
No nyz bt hlʈ fṛm ɖer fziśnz nǒ;
Fr, f I śd dsper, I śd gro mad,
N in mî madnis mt spīc il v ɖi;
Nǎ ɖs il-réstñ wrld z groun so bad,
Mad slandrrz bî mad irz b’līvid b.
Ɖt I me nt b so, nr ɖǎ b’laid,
Ber ɖîn îz stret,
ɖo ɖî prǎd hart g wîd.
♦ ♦
Clasics in Ñspel: O! call not me to justify the wrong – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 139
Sonit 139: Ǒ! cōl nt m t jusṭfî ɖ roñ
♥
Ǒ! cōl nt m t jusṭfî ɖ roñ
Ɖt ɖî uncîndnis lez upn mî hart;
Wūnd m nt wɖ ɖîn î, bt wɖ ɖî tuñ:
Yz pǎr wɖ pǎr, n sle m nt bî art,
Tel m ɖǎ luvst elsẃr; bt in mî sît,
Dir hart, fōrber t glans ɖîn î asd:
Ẃt nīdst ɖǎ wūnd wɖ cunñ,
ẃn ɖî mît
Z mor ɖn mî o’prest dfns cn bîd?
Let m xkz ɖi: ā! mî luv wel nz
Hr priti lcs hv bn mîn eṇmiz;
N ɖrfr fṛm mî fes ś trnz mî foz,
Ɖt ɖe elsẃr mt dart ɖer inɉriz:
Yt d nt so; bt sins I am nir slein,
Cil m ǎtrît wɖ lcs, n rid mî pen.
♥
Clasics in Ñspel: When my love swears that she is made of truth – William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 138
Sonit 138: Ẃn mî luv swerz ɖt ś z md v truʈ
♥
Ẃn mî luv swerz ɖt ś z md v truʈ,
I d b’liv hr ɖo I nǒ ś laiz,
Ɖt ś mt ʈnc m sm untytrd yʈ,
Unlrnid in ɖ wrld’z fōls sutltiz.
Ɖus venli ʈncñ ɖt ś ʈncs m yuñ,
Olɖo ś nz mî dez r past ɖ bst,
Simpli I credit hr fōls-spīcñ tuñ:
On bʈ sîdz ɖus z simpl truʈ s’prest:
Bt ẃr-fr sz ś nt ś z unjust?
N ẃr-fr se nt I ɖt I am old?
Ǒ! luv’z bst habit z in sīmñ trust,
N ej in luv, luvz nt t hv yirz tld:
Ɖrfr I lai wɖ hr, n ś wɖ m,
N in ǎr fōlts bî laiz w flatrd b.
♥