Mayonnaise

I'm on tour at the moment and am eating a lot of packet sandwiches, hence the following sentiments:

I hate you, mayonnaise

I open the packet, saliva a-brewing

but the moment I chomp, the whole sandwich is ruined

because plastered throughout, like a coat of emulsion

is a glutinous substance to cause my revulsion…

Wherever there’s food, mayonnaise, you’re there - hidden,

you lurk in my sandwich: you snuck in, unbidden.

You slick up my burger, you skulk near my chips,

you posture as mustard – you’re the craftiest of dips.

I loathe you, I hate you, I can’t stand your taste

you eggy, you slimy, you wobbly paste!

I won’t stand aside, I abhor acquiescing

to a gate-crashing, slippery, commonplace dressing. 

© Catherine Lucie, 2013

The Dragon

Here's a little something I wrote about a dragon. Just your everyday dragon. Dragons are funky.

The Dragon

Perhaps it would be safer to be with the dragon

battering on, a broiling cloud,

while its muscular eye juts out

swivelling to pinpoint bloodful meals.

But having clung on long enough,

dodging roaring columns of purple flame,

thighs gripping and slipping from its scaly back ,

I drop free

and hurtle to ground.

Landed, I wipe away ash and viscera

and look up

to see the dragon’s torn but mighty wings

creak on. 

© Catherine Lucie, 2013

Thoughts about patriotism

Here's a post! It's my first! Maybe I'll never post again! Oh, the unknown of it all! 

Anyways, this is a poem I wrote, loosely inspired by the Daily Mail and Ed Milliband's dad. It's a poem, because I think it can safely be accepted as fact that all thoughts about politics are best expressed in rhyme:

Patriotism

It’s considered a given

that wherever you’re livin’

is the best piece of ground

wound round and round

in a fog of renown.

And that love of one’s kingdom

is something to sing from

the palaces of power,

the football fan’s glower,

the tabloid front-pages.

But in truth it enrages

me royally.

Could someone explain

how raising terrain

to a moral position

is not superstition?

Extolling the good

and throwing a hood

on the bad, is a fiction:

a shut-eyed constriction

of history.

It disguises our flaws,

it drives us to wars

where our flaws become claws

and worse -

we grab at the purse

of others’ resources,

with clench-fisted forces.

I don’t get ‘nation’

and its awful conflation

with right

and I slight

patriotism

as nothing but schism.

© Catherine Lucie, 2013