Poets Play Pokemon

W*ll**m W*rdsw*rth

We were a genial crew who met to trade
Our not-uncoloured cards. With boyish zeal
We joyed to show our knowledge intricate
Of Primeape, and of bulbous Ivysaur.
Yet through our play, insensibly we learned
Commercial virtue. Trade was tough yet fair;
Therefore delight combined with usefulness,
And social skills with pleasure intertwined.
Yet one there was amongst us, from a home
Of honest worth, but quite unblessed by wealth,
Who coveted the cards he could not own,
And most for Ponyta his longing grew.
In desperation he would offer us
His one Charmeleon for swaps. We laughed
The carefree laugh of blessed childhood glee
For of Charmander's son we'd cards to spare.
Alas, the urchin's passion grew intense;
He grabbed a fellow's pack, and ran away
To hide among the groves of Borrowdale
And gloat upon his gains in secret joy.
Yet soon must happiness have turned to shame,
And fear of retribution from hard boots.
Oh rightly so! We found him in the hour,
And knocked his teeth in, and took all his cards,
And threw him headfirst in Lake Windermere.

W*ll**m C*rl*s W*ll**ms

This Is Just to Say

I have taken
the cards
that were in
your schoolbag

and which
you were probably
for swopsies

Forgive me
they were collectible
so rare
and so cool

  W.H **d*n

Nidoran stand sentry, taking proper care
Of ammunition supplies. Beware
The bogus Drowzee. Camped by the watershed
We shall dream of gannets tonight, and the Pokemon dead.
On heights past Dufton the enemy lines
Wait watchful as Mew. Beneath us deserted mines
Lie wrecked and flooded. Conceal your distress.
Be prepared for any unpleasantness.
They have tallied our hit-points. Chances are small
Of survival till spring, of lying where grass grows tall
Beside Oddish or Squirtle, speaking of Wallsend
Or of meeting, just once, the one true Friend.
Do not think of this. Tonight we only
Watch the dark moorland where sheep stand lonely,
Prepared for the strangers, the disruptive, the unruly,
Ready to say "I choose you," and to mean it truly.

S*lv** Pl*th

Pikachu and Co

What is it within that Exeggcute?
Is it soft, is it seething, do its eyes twitch?
Should I touch will I itch, will it spit?
Is it an it?
Is it godawful?
I've got to catch them all.
It's as though I've a call.

Creatures are bagfuls of blood
Taste it, it's ochre-green
It'll spurt if you lop
Off their limbs or unpeel them
I know how they feel
I think I may be Machop.

George Simmers

If you've any comments on these travesties, George Simmers would be pleased to hear from you.

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