Stripped of my masculine pride,
My dignity gone down the drain.
Respect disappeared,
It’s worse than I feared.
Can life be the same again?
My self-esteem has been shattered.
Eloquence reduced to babble.
Just an old so and so,
With my head way down low.
My wife just beat me at Scrabble.
© Copyright Philip Barton, February 19th, 2026, All rights reserved
My sister is a gasbag.
Our conversations vast.
By the time she’s finished listening,
At least an hour has passed.
© Copyright Philip Barton, May 14th, 2026, All rights reserved
He was violent, tough and agitated
Never showing calmness.
But he chewed his nails
Up and up
And ended up quite armless.
© Copyright Philip Barton November 21st, 2009. All rights reserved
My trousers
Upped and left me,
Just packed
And walked away.
I think they stole my socks,
I never liked them
Anyway.
© Copyright Philip Barton December 26th, 2010. All rights reserved.
This compulsion keeps me going,
Drives me on,
Won’t let me stop.
Wild bursts of senseless logic
Like a woman in a shop.
Precious posturing and prattling
When will these ditties cease?
I really need a proper job
And a little bit of peace.
© Copyright Philip Barton. 18th September 2015. All rights reserved.
Rhinosauras is his name
And how this came to pass
Is that Rhino’s Greek for money
Which came from his saurarse.
© Copyright Philip Barton 24th February 2010. All rights reserved.
A specious and spurious swine
Stole a wonderful opening line.
As a writer of fiction
Not known for his diction,
It was always quite obviously mine.
© Copyright Philip Barton, February 14th, 2008. All rights reserved
He thrust his finger at the crust
Up high within his nose.
So hard his arm then followed,
Then his torso, legs and toes.
What started out discreetly
In the style of those well-bred,
Ended with him inside out
And standing on his head.
© Copyright Philip Barton, January 16th, 2026. All rights reserved
I need to buy a jacket,
So sought my wife’s advice.
She kindly agreed to accompany me,
Which I thought was terribly nice.
It only took four hours,
With all the following bagged:
Two blouses, some pants,
One ‘top’ and one dress.
Oh how my posture sagged.
Of jackets, nothing at all,
Nothing could I don.
I’ll do it tomorrow – on my own.
Oh no all my money has gone.
© Copyright Philip Barton, July 18th, 2025 All rights reserved
