Poem: The Slayer of Daisies

Daisies of Optimism (Moku Hanga GP)


I was an Author,

I was a Film Maker,

I was an Artist.


I am merely a Slayer of Daisies

Their heads falling beneath my relentless blade.

No longer does their positive individuality

Punctuate my lawn.

They have all fallen

With not even a poppy to bow and nod its head in grief.


Now there is the monotonous regularity

Of a unified, green singularity.

All is decent

And in order.

There are no dissenters here,

No conscientious objectors,

No rugged individualists.


But I slew them

In the hope

That when I am gone

They will come again;

They will resurrect and remain

But I will pass away.


For unless there is individual

Radiance in the quest for light

All will be uniform green

And then all will turn to night.


Viva la resistance!

Viva Daisy!



Doggerel: I Want Me Bleedin’ Tonsils Back!

I had a little sore throat

So they yanked me tonsils out.

They said, “You’ll never need ‘em son,

“Of that we have no doubt!”

But now I want me tonsils back

Or at least some compensation;

I’m gonna shout ‘til me throat is sore

And sue this bleedin’ Nation.