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Best Poems Written by Ken Duddle

Below are the all-time best Ken Duddle poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Choose 2000 Gods Or Free Will

Eeney meany is what I will say
Which God shall I pray to today
It all depends on how I fee
And which one gives the better deal..

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Writer's Block

Blank sheet. Empty head.
Ideas not forthcoming.
Wastepaper bin full

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No Farting Allowed

There was a man named Fred
Who liked eating baked beans in bed
One day when he farted
He and his wife parted
'Well it's quicker than divorce' Said Fred.

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It'Ll Be Ok

Don’t worry.

The head of British Gas
will take a pay cut.
Your favourite watering hole
will never shut.
There may be acid rain
because the ozone layer is kaput,

But someday
it’ll be OK.

Don’t worry.

Elvis Presley will announce
that he is well and truly dead.
You will be given a wage
to stay in bed.
There may be squatters
in your garden shed,

But someday
it’ll be OK.

Don’t worry.

There’ll be a non-stop funfair
in your local park.
Granny muggers will prowl
the streets in the dark.
There may be need
to build a fall-out Ark,

But someday 
it’ll be OK.

Don't Worry

Leicester City will achieve
the Cup and League double.
Politicians will resign
when in trouble.
You may have to live
in a pollution-free bubble,

But someday,
it’ll be OK.

Don’t worry.

Lady Gaga will become
 the Antichrist (or Pope).
Cliff Richard will crack
and start smoking dope.
You may have to listen
to another Tim Vine Joke,

But someday
it’ll be OK.

Don’t worry.

Footballers will not dispute
the yellow card.
Salman Rusdie will not need
an armed guard.
The next London airport
may be New Scotland Yard,

But someday
it’ll be OK.

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Green Fingers

Dave, who when his time came to retire
Thought he'd have a quiet life
But instead he soon discovered
That he had a nagging wife.
He acquired an allotment  to pass the time
An hour or two of solitude out of the house.
A relaxing day in the summer sun.
Far away from the over bearing spouse.
Then one day he had a shock.
While relaxing with a cold beer.
In the distance, rolling down the path,
A nightmare come true, his worst fear.
His wife came ever closer.
Wearing a massive grin.
She put out her arms to greet.
And kissed him on the chin.
'I have come to help you'
She said with a smile.
'I will come here every day.
And be with you for a quite a while'
Now he did not fancy this one bit.
And tried gently to decline.
But  his wife insisted. and said together 
They must spend more time.
So he asked her 'what would you like to do.?'
'Oh just give me the spade.' she said.
So reluctantly he did as she asked
And brought the spade down on her head.
Then he dug a fresh new plot.
And buried her in the ground.
Her skill in the garden was proved true.
With a good harvest all year round.
But he was eventually caught.
And how was most absurd.
For his wife had the final say.
As always had the last word.
Of his fruit and veg Dave was proud
Set up a business, sold door to door.
Until somebody noticed something sprout.
It was not a spring onion they saw.
Dave goes over the day again and again.
As in his cell he lingers.
For what was seen poking out the ground.
Were two solitary green fingers.

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Lcfc

Football season done.
Optimistic Leicester fans.
Promotion next year.

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Meat

“Meat is bad for you,”
said the young vegan, lighting
up a cigarette.

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Mother




MOTHER

When all alone, quiet, and lost in thought,
I see again the times when I was young.
I smile for attention I often sought,
Knowing if  I was sad then you would come.

You would dry the teardrops that then would flow,
Be my bedside nurse on a restless night.
A soothing word and I'd forget my woe,
Consoled that you were not far from my sight.

Your wrath confused me when I misbehaved,
Never believing I was ever wrong.
But now I see love through your stormy rage.
With your wise words I have grown, oh so strong.

So when I think of you, Mother and friend,
All regrets are over, all sorrows end.

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A Chance Encounter

A Chance Encounter

A chance encounter the other day
Got me chatting to a stranger
Just for some time to pass away.
He was very well groomed, very smart.
Spoke well too, seemed a decent sort.

I told him a little tale
I had learned whilst at work.
Outside a building that’s up for sale
Close to the centre of the town
A queue of people gathered. 
Old clothes, hand me downs.

Inside people of good heart and souls
Were behind tables long.
And a kind of soup was poured into bowls.
A slice of bread was added to each one poured.
As the hungry-eyed came through the door.


As each one passed a thank you was heard.
Grateful for the meal today.
A simple reply least we can do.
All was silent no complaints from the poor.
Till a young voice said, ‘Please Mummy I want more.’

I sat back in my chair waiting for a reply.
The guy opposite gave a big sigh.
He said, ‘Things were tough in those days
Very hard for the poor in the Victorian Age.
They were ignored, did not count,
How could others treat them like that?’
No-one should be without the means I say,
To feed and clothe their children today.

I looked at him and shook my head.
My dear friend you misunderstand
The tale was not yesteryear or a foreign land.
I visited a local food bank the day before last.
And like you I was taken aback.


Unless with my eyes I had seen,
The myth about scroungers I would still believe.
Some get the dregs, others get the cream.
This is Great Britain in 2013.

But the people of our Nation are strong
In times of strife they speak as one.
‘We are mighty as Caesar, mighty as Rome.’
‘ NI CARBORUNDUM BASTARDORUM’

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Creaky Bones

Creaky bones,
I must be getting old.
Creaky bones,
But I will not be told.

Creaky bones,
Those stairs are hard to climb.
Creaky bones, 
I will not moan and whine.

Creaky bones,
Bending to tie up shoes.
Creaky bones,
Waiting in those long queues.

Creaky bones,
Once young, now aging fast.
Creaky bones,
Soon I’ll have that free bus pass.

Creaky bones.