Formal and Polite, Poetry

The Interview

Mr. Perkings is quite glad,
This could be the job he had
Were he rich and educated
At top schools that man created.

He puts on a long blue tie,
Shines his shoes with deep dark dye,
Perkings likes his long grey beard
Bank Deadend likes them quite sheared.

‘Good afternoon, you must be Mr. Perk!’
‘Perkings ma’am’, he gave a smirk,
‘Mr. Banks will see you soon,
Have a seat in the saloon’.

As he sat on a small chair,
A dozen others turned to stare,
They were dressed the same as him
With a tie and chin quite trim.

One was counting notes with speed,
Another stacking coins with greed,
Perkings had nothing to count
That could add to some amount.

‘Perkings!’, ‘Yes sir! I am here,
Of assistance with great cheer!’
He then stepped through a grey door
Of an office with grey floor.

‘I can see from your CV,
You can count to level three.’
‘I worked hard, sir, to become,
Through this job a level one!’

Mr. Banks gave him one glance,
From his dyed shoes to his hands.
‘We want at least a level two,
Don’t call us, sir, we’ll call you.’

(From  Formal and Polite)

Chasing the Light, Chasing the Light Poetry, Poetry

The Keeper of Light

The Keeper of light and all that is good,
Brought life to the faces sculpted in wood.
His breath is like fire, deep from the Earth,
Scorching the makings of inferior birth.

He sees not only the sharp witted mind,
But delves deeper his treasure to find.
For thoughts are mere shadows of a higher art,
Crafted and shouting from deep in the heart.

(From Voice Mountain and Chasing the Light)

Anam Fiain, Poetry

Bravery of Dawn

by Anam Fiáin of House Gideon*

A brave tale of knighthood I shall tell
That speaks not of blood stained swords or spells that repel
Nor does it speak of the shields that crush hearts of stone,
But of the courage of a man who is truly alone.

You have been sent to the bleakest abyss,
Where madness and darkness are never amiss
And if your brother raises his sword before you with death
Spare him his life and leave him his breath.

Be not afraid of those who can kill
A body of flesh as it can again heal,
Take heart, have courage and bare all with faith
And let not one soul become a wandering wraith.

Your brother will wake and morrow will ring
Of clinging voices who have forgotten their sting,
Heartfelt songs will replace the harsh and cruel zeal,
Saying: “My brother spared me so now I may heal.”

* Anam Fiáin is a character I created for an Empire LARP event

Formal and Polite, Poetry


On the round side of the Earth
Lived spheres of many a girth,
They all were very proud
Of their land, which was very round.

On an apparently circular day
A good hearted cube came along to play,
He was sharp in thought and flat in voice,
The small girthed spheres did not rejoice.

They listened not to his warm thought
And didn’t see the life he sought,
They took a rounded rock and said,
‘Let’s make this cube a sphere instead!’

(From Formal and Polite)