Never Eat Peas

When I say never eat peas
I don't mean never eat them with cheese,
I don't mean never eat them with fleas,
I mean never eat peas full stop.
They're small green round things
that don't even have strings
and look nothing like rings.
They just hop about the place
jumping over your plates
as though they know how to elaborate
assimilate and plan an escape.
I'm aware that peas can't rap,
but that doesn't mean they can't sing
when hit by a fork or a hot water spring.
They don't go with chips or beans.
What does the word pea even mean?


In short I can safely conclude,
peas are no good for me or you
or anyone else for that matter.
I'd much prefer cod and batter.
Now it's time to end these horrendous rhymes
and finish this as the clock of doom chimes.


Never eat peas.


The Tiger Poet

Introducing the Tiger Poet

Hi. I'm the Tiger Poet and welcome to my blog.

I call myself an amateur poet, although amateur is probably an inaccurate description. A poet who is just about getting by would be better. I come from a small village in South Wales, which is so small it's pretty much just a couple of houses in a valley. As a result, nothing much happens where I'm from, but if something does I'll let you know.

Of course the main thing you'll find here is poetry. I tried writing poetry when I was in school, but my teacher told me that my writing style would be better suited to advertising billboards in car parks. I believed her at the time, but now I'm giving it another try seeing as I'm at university where poetry is fashionable. I'm going to try and get the first of my efforts posted here in the next week or two, and we'll see if my teacher was right.

Basically, if this sounds like your sort of thing, feel free to stick around. You never know, might be half good. Ok. Over and out.