Nasty Evil Ninja – A Poet???

Nasty Evil Ninja – A Poet???

I’ve had literally ‘a few’ people ask me about this lately.  For my sins, I am, in fact, a poet.  Or at least was…

It’s really where all this started.

I was forced to write a crappy poem at school in an English lesson in 1990.  So, after being bored silly with ‘Dulce Et Decorum Es’, I sat there and wrote this:

The Chicken

A funny thing happened
To me the other day,
I was walking along
Down an alleyway,
When a bloke in a hat
Said “Psst! Come over here!”
Showed me a chicken,
And whispered in my ear.
“Young lad, this chicken
Could change your life-
It could make you rich,
And pull you a wife.”

To an offer like that
I couldn’t say no,
Asked “How much?”
And hoped it was low.
“Fifty quid to you, son,”
He held up a hand,
“I can’t go any lower
‘Cause I bought it for a grand.”
I gave him the money,
Looked at the hen,
Turned to thank the man
But he was gone again.

So I was walking along
With a chick under my arm,
When I noticed that it
Was surprisingly calm.
I held it out,
And wobbled its’ head,
But it fell on the ground-
The chicken was dead!

I couldn’t believe it!
I just stared in surprise!
All along
He’d been telling me lies!
Now I’m fifty quid less,
With a motionless hen,
And I’m telling you this
So it won’t happen again.

It got a good reaction!  Hell, even Girls seemed to like it!

Of course, my teenage angst soon took over, and stuff got far more moody and twisted.

Most rhyming poems are crap.  They compromise what you’re trying to say because you’re more concerned with trying to find something that rhymes with ‘incandescent’ than just explaining how angry you are!  (Having said that, probably my two favourites DO rhyme, but meh – shup!)

I found people liked this moody non-rhyming stuff even more.  More importantly, Girls liked it!

I found this a bit strange, because most of my poems aren’t actually very nice!  It should also be noted here that I NEVER spend weeks writing a poem like some – mine all came out fast.  A bit like being sick.  I doubt many took me longer than 30 minutes in total (with no more edits after I declared it finished), which made it an excellent release for me.

I went through a period of several years where I’d  write out my latest poems and hand them out by request to several Girls.  I figured this poetry stuff could work!

This is my most published poem overall:


She is rape,
For she holds my heart against my will,
Her icy clutch
Freezing me from inside.
Her playful mind is warped
Like a lioness toying with her prey.
She sees my pain as nothing,
When her own life is desolate.
My joys will never excite her,
Though with my self-destruction
She grows strong enough to fade away.

Dark, huh?

My sister actually acted out one of my poems with her friends when she was at school, which is quite possibly better than being published in a book or magazine!  That was another comedy poem about three old ladies causing havoc in a supermarket, titled ‘Clean Up In Aisle Three’.

For now, though, I’ll leave you with one of my few poems I can remember instantly.  I think it’s got a great flow to it, and don’t feel the rhyme compromises the feel or the words.  And if you think this stuff is dark – you should see some of the lyrics I’ve written for my bands!

Lessons Learned From Scars

A fool to believe
If he wore on his sleeve
His heart – he could have it returned.
For his long drawn-out pain
Just what did he gain?
More scars and more lessons learned.
When she returned his kiss
He felt ultimate bliss
But never, since that long time ago
Did she show that she cared
Or was even aware
Of his pain which swallowed him whole.