The Christmas Competition.

[peter]

[/quote]

Don't be silly. No way you'll come last because it's your son judging it.


There are loads of other ways you'll qualify.


How?
The work I have put into this, the mistakes I have made, they must surely count for more than last place even if you were judging it.

[Diamond Lil]

Peter, at last I have the company of a fellow-sufferer...if you're last, I'll share the sherbert dab

[The Peepmaster]

Don't be silly. No way you'll come last because it's your son judging it.


There are loads of other ways you'll qualify.


How?
The work I have put into this, the mistakes I have made, they must surely count for more than last place even if you were judging it.
[/quote]

To me, at least, your efforts have been admirable, Peter. However, you are partly responsible for the existence of Mince...

[peter]

Don't be silly. No way you'll come last because it's your son judging it.


There are loads of other ways you'll qualify.


How?
The work I have put into this, the mistakes I have made, they must surely count for more than last place even if you were judging it.

To me, at least, your efforts have been admirable, Peter. However, you are partly responsible for the existence of Mince...
[/quote]

Could have been the milkman

[peter]

I would have died that day if not for you.
I would've given up on life if not for your kind eyes.
I would have used my teeth in fear if not for your gentle hands.
I would have left this life believing that all humans don't care.
Believing there is no such thing as fur that is not matted.
Skin that isn't flea bitten.
Good food and enough of it.
Beds to sleep on.
Someone to love me.
To show me I deserve love just because I exist.
Your kind hear eyes, your loving smile, your gentle hands.
Your big heart saved me.
You saved me from the pound.
Soothing away the memories of my sad life.
You have taught me what it means to be loved.
I have heard you ask yourself why you do it.
The Dogs are the reason.

This has no names in it but it is a poem

[Colin]

I'd be really surprised Peter.
I don't have any kids.

Really surprised indeed.

Now you are trying to evade the question, your just splitting hairs. Be a man and answer.

I did answer.
You asked me if my kid was judging.
I told you I don't have any kids.

What other answer can I give?
Do you want me to lie?

[Colin]

I would have died that day if not for you.
I would've given up on life if not for your kind eyes.
I would have used my teeth in fear if not for your gentle hands.
I would have left this life believing that all humans don't care.
Believing there is no such thing as fur that is not matted.
Skin that isn't flea bitten.
Good food and enough of it.
Beds to sleep on.
Someone to love me.
To show me I deserve love just because I exist.
Your kind hear eyes, your loving smile, your gentle hands.
Your big heart saved me.
You saved me from the pound.
Soothing away the memories of my sad life.
You have taught me what it means to be loved.
I have heard you ask yourself why you do it.
The Dogs are the reason.

This has no names in it but it is a poem

Is that a poem?

[Mince]

No, it's not a poem.

This is a poem. (It's not by me and not an entry for the Christmas competition.)


Stealing

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman.
Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute
beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate
with a mind as cold as the slice of ice
within my own brain. I started with the head.

Better off dead than giving in, not taking
what you want. He weighed a ton; his torso,
frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill
piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing
that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars
to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.
I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera.
I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob.
A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,
he didn't look the same. I took a run
and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out
in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing
alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.
One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might
learn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once,
flogged it, but the snowman was strangest.
You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

[Colin]

 

[Mince]

Go on, Colin. Write me an essay on it.

[Colin]

Go on, Colin. Write me an essay on it.

I gave up being a pupil years ago  and you haven't offered a prize.

[Mince]

I gave up being a pupil years ago  and you haven't offered a prize.

You're no fun.

[Vulture]

I gave up being a pupil years ago  and you haven't offered a prize.

You're no fun.

Persnickety has turned into House.  :

[The Peepmaster]

I gave up being a pupil years ago  and you haven't offered a prize.

You're no fun.

Persnickety has turned into House.  :

Dilapidated dwelling, more like.

[Roger Kettle]

No, it's not a poem.

This is a poem. (It's not by me and not an entry for the Christmas competition.)


Stealing

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman.
Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute
beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate
with a mind as cold as the slice of ice
within my own brain. I started with the head.

Better off dead than giving in, not taking
what you want. He weighed a ton; his torso,
frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill
piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing
that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars
to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.
I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera.
I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob.
A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,
he didn't look the same. I took a run
and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out
in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing
alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.
One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might
learn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once,
flogged it, but the snowman was strangest.
You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Well, that's a nice, cheery Christmas number.