Tag Archives: fun

Flat. A Poem, Recorded Live in Exeter

Poem

My tyre is flat
My roof is flat
My cola is flat
I live in a flat.

My pancake is flat
My iron is flat
My enthusiasm is flat
My coffee is a flat
white.

My battery is flat
The joke I told fell flat
Norfolk is flat
I played a piano in B
flat.

My carpet is flat
On the floor of my flat
My cap is flat
It’s a flat
Cap.

I showed this poem
To a friend.
They thought it was too
one-dimensional.

Mariner Man – Dame Edith Sitwell, performed at Paignton’s beach by Robert Garnham

It was a beautiful day so I decided to go for a stroll on the beach and recite this poem by one of my poetry heroes, Dame Edith Sitwell. I hope you like it, and if you don’t, it’s not very long.

Why barbershops close early on Christmas Eve (I didn’t realise that this was a thing)

A barber I spoke to closes early on Christmas Eve because apparently drunk people decide to get spur of the moment haircuts and I didn’t realise that this was a thing.

The atmosphere in the pub
Had been stale.

Oh, here they come, John thought,
Just as he was thinking of flipping the sign
In the door to CLOSED.

In they pile in their puffy coats!

Lairy, unable to fathom
A system for queuing.
Use your indoor voices, for goodness sake!
One still had his fingers clamped around
A glass from the pub,
Like he really couldn’t let go of the moment.

We all want
MOHAWKS!

(Lads! Lads! Lads!)

Are you sure?
Wouldn’t you rather
Sleep it off?
MOHAWKS MOHAWKS MOHAWKS!
(Lads! Lads! Lads!)
A chant from the waiting area,
Ruddy cheeks and bleary eyes.

Sit down then, he sighs.
Adam first, he adjusts the chair, the lad yells
WAHAAAAYYYY!
I’m going down, fellas!
It’s like riding Big Dippers!
John brings out the clippers,
Cuts away his luscious locks, 
Hey lads, Ad yells, hey lads, hey lads,
I’m getting a real buzz out of this.

Do you get it? Buzz!
Geeeeenius!
Who’s that bastard in the mirror?
Want to fight about it, brother?
And by the way,
Is there a draught in here?
Adam,
What the fuck you done to your barnet?

Who’s next in the chair,
Runs a hand though his hair, it’s Rick,
Clipped and buzzed and shorn,
For goodness sake, sit still!
Says Rick : I think I’m gonna be sick!
I think I’m gonna be sick!
Calls for Huey as he leans for the sink,
Oh my god it’s dripping from his chin!

Lads! Lads! Lads!
MOHAAAWWWWK!

And now it’s time for Scoots.
Says Scoots, give me a MOHAWK my good friend!
Make me look less feral, like nature has called!
Says John, I can’t, because you are bald,
I want a MOHAWK gimme a MOHAWK!
I want one now without further ado.
OK says John, let me find 
The super glue.
Now stop your shouting, please,
Let’s have some hush.
And someone pass me the contents
Of that dustpan and brush!

And now it’s Aidge, he leaps on the stage,
Your turn now, sit still, stop fidgeting!
Play punch your pal when this is all done.
I can’t wait for my wife to see this, says Aidge,
Oh my she will laugh, it will be such fun!
This is gonna be great, this is gonna be dope!
Hey, why are you taking off so much hair?
What’s a MOHAWK anyway?
Why didn’t anyone tell me what a MOHAWK was
Before we started all this?

Can you put it back?
Can this be reversed?
Sindy is gonna kill me!
Though he nods nods nods
When John holds up the mirror,
See the back of your head?
Yeah, I see the back of my head.

Sad tinsel twists in waves of warmth
From a plug in heater.
The lads all look the same
And a little bit neater.
They pay up in full which makes it
All the more sweeter,
And then, with a belch and a curse and a cry
Of MOHAWK MOHAWK MOHAWK,
Lads! Lads! Lads!
They’re off.

How quiet it is, John locks the door,
A sigh of relief as he sweeps the floor.
Perhaps he won’t open
On Christmas Eve no more.
On the spur of the moment he decides what he’ll do.
He’ll pop next door and get an impromptu tattoo.

The Tedium of Listening to Other People’s Dreams (Audio, Live in Exeter)

Hello, here’s a poem from my set last night in Exeter. The poem is called Dreamscraper, from my collection, Hello!

I hope you like it.

I have a sofa-phobia

Hello, just booked into a hotel and my room has a s-s-sofa in it. I don’t want to change rooms because it’s otherwise quite nice. But I’ve always had a phobia of sofas.

That’s what this poem is all about.

And here’s me, on the s-s-sofa. Being very brave.

Sofa Phobia poem, recorded live in Exeter

Poem about not getting enough butter to go with your toast in a cafe.

Hello,

Here’s a new poem for you. It’s from my collection Hello!, which can be ordered here.https://robertgarnham.bigcartel.com/product/hello

I hope you like it

Hello! The new book from Robert Garnham

My new collection Hello!, has just been published by Puddlehopper Books. And I’m really excited about it!

I do believe that Hello! contains some of the best poems I’ve written. Some of them were featured in my show Bouncer, which I performed last year, and in the version of Juicy which I’ve been performing this year.

The book is a pleasant mix of comedy and serious poems.

You can purchase a copy here if you’re interested : https://robertgarnham.bigcartel.com/product/hello

An Evening with the Professor of Whimsy

Hello, you are cordially invited to spend an hour in the company of Robert Garnham, the Professor of Whimsy! Over the course of the hour Robert performs some of his best known and funniest poems. The last twenty minutes is a stand alone theatre piece called Mr Juicy.

If you like what you see, feel free to pop something in this tip jar! https://ko-fi.com/robertgarnham

The show can be watched right here. Enjoy!