Flaming Nora

San Francisco Sea Fret  or The Day They Took Me For 60 The girl in the picture With long, dark hair Stares at the camera In a pre-digital age San Francisco sea-fret On Christmas Eve Pebbles and shingles Tide and the bay She's homesick for friendship Wants her mum's hug  and the family tree The woman at the counter With hair going grey and thinning  Stares at the pharmacist Who assumes she's prehistoric Her heart aches for friendship Misses her mum's hug A branch snapped  Find out more about me and my books at: Glenda Young Books I'm on Twitter @flaming_nora and Instagram @flaming_nora

A list of nots to do A stream of words to keep quiet A lifetime to never discuss Half circle Without heart or mind Half squared that edges away Until Boxed in and silent And biting, biting the words Find out more about me and my books. Click on the image below : I'm on twitter @flaming_nora

A gash of cherry lipstick The tightest, shortest skirt Heels, blouse Hair teased and tangled into unnatural curls Blood oozes out Scarlet drops fall Pink flesh rips The blade travels down his arm Unaware, unknowing of who he really wants to be Find out more about me and my books. Click on the image below : I'm on twitter @flaming_nora

Each week I enter the Let's Twist competition in The Spectator. I've never won and I never will and that's not false modesty, I know I'm not literary enough. But each entry I send in, although it doesn't win or get published, sits on my computer wanting its day in the sun.  Now is the time for my little poems to shine. The Spectator brief was:  You are invited to submit a poem of 16 lines in which the lines begin with the letters of the alphabet from A to P.  Here comes the bride by Glenda Young All of the people Behind me today Came to see me get married and Dad give me away Even the vicar said my Frock was rather nice Groom didn’t mention it as He was miffed about the price I was almost ready to say ‘I do ‘ Just as mt pregnant bridesmaid fainted ‘Keep calm!’ I said ‘Let’s carry on’, but the wedding day was tainted My husband cared for fallen maid Now giving her the kiss of her life ‘Oh!’ cried the vicar, looking on. “I Pronounce those two husband and wi...

Each week I enter the Let's Twist competition in The Spectator. I've never won and I never will and that's not false modesty, I know I'm not literary enough. But each entry I send in, although it doesn't win or get published, sits on my computer wanting its day in the sun.  Now is the time for my little poems to shine. The Spectator brief was: The Rime of the Wedding Guest Thick neck and tattoos by Glenda Young She’s far too good for him, they say And I think they may be right He’s got tattoos, a very thick neck, an unflattering overbite But I’ll smile when they exchange their vows and rings I’ll giggle when she throws her bouquet My Chanel suit will shine on the wedding photographs Of my son’s wedding day Find out more about me and my books. Click on the image below : I'm on twitter @flaming_nora

Each week I enter the Let's Twist competition in The Spectator. I've never won and I never will and that's not false modesty, I know I'm not literary enough. But each entry I send in, although it doesn't win or get published, sits on my computer wanting its day in the sun.  Now is the time for my little poems to shine. The Spectator brief was: You are invited to supply a protest song for Donald Trump’s detractors. Reasons to be Fearful (World War 3) by Glenda Young Why don't you get back into bed Why don't you get back into bed Mike Pence, Building a fence Ban him, Twitter! He lies Fake News, Dodgy Views Coiffured Hair and Panda Eyes Pandering to Putin, From the Lip Shootin’ Hacking emails to Hilary Huffing, Puffing, He’s a down and dirty rough ‘un And he’s gonna cause World War Three Why don't you get back into bed Why don't you get back into bed Reasons to be Fearful (Part 3) 1 2 3 Find out more about me and my books. Click on the image be...

Each week I enter the Let's Twist competition in The Spectator. I've never won and I never will and that's not false modesty, I know I'm not literary enough. But each entry I send in, although it doesn't win or get published, sits on my computer wanting its day in the sun.  Now is the time for my little poems to shine. The Spectator brief was: You are invited to submit a poem about a deadly foodstuff. Sunday Dinner by Glenda Young If the chicken doesn’t poison you Then the roast potatoes will And beside your Yorkshire puddings Lurks the killer kale  Leafy greens and artichoke Sunday dinner? What a joke Find out more about me and my books. Click on the image below : I'm on twitter @flaming_nora

Each week I enter the Let's Twist competition in The Spectator. I've never won and I never will and that's not false modesty, I know I'm not literary enough. But each entry I send in, although it doesn't win or get published, sits on my computer wanting its day in the sun.  Now is the time for my little poems to shine. The Spectator brief was: You are invited to recast John Masefield’s ‘Sea Fever’ in light of the news that the poet suffered from acute sea sickness. See the Chemist By Glenda Young I must go down to the chemist again, to the pharmacist counter, quick And all I ask is a packet of pills to stop me feeling sick As the mouth hurls and the head heaves and the legs are shaking, And a green pallor to the face, with a multicoloured yawn breaking. I must go down to the chemist again, for the fluids in my ear Are calling loud and calling clear; I retch, but I can not hear And all I ask is my vestibular system be still instead of flying As the dizziness spira...

Our local Indian restaurant does a monthly poetry and poppadoms night, both of which are crisp, fresh and tasty. The winner this week of the Poppadom of Power Poetry Trophy was Abe Benson. Now then, I've never put YouTubes on my blog before. I've always thought it was a sleazy, easy, lazy way to blog but Abe Gibson deserves a wider audience. Click and enjoy Abe's poem: Nancy and Riva.

When there's someone in cyberspace Trying to take your place You type tomatoes And so do they Following in your footsteps Wearing your cyber shoes Copying what you do It's creepy and quite scary But kind of flattering too For more of me poems on the blog, have a look here .

Having just written something about Stephen Fry reminded me that he and I have history, oh yes. He once emailed me a poem in response to one I emailed to him. Now then, this was over a decade ago - but I am now laying down a challange to Mr Stephen Fry . If he reads this (as if... but hey, you never know) and can remember the poem that he comprised to rhyme with my first name (that's the real one, not the Flaming Nora one) then I'll donate £50 to a charity of his choice.

In today's Guardian - that'll be Wednesday March 14 - it said it was Pam Ayres' 60th birthday, so I thought I'd write another of me poems like this one and this one . Oh, I wish I'd looked after me blog It got lost in the mist and the fog I've emailed me host That I can't get in to post Oh, I wish I'd looked after me blog

On the tube this week, I read one of the Poems on the Underground stuck on a poster in the carriage. It was called Ballad of the Londoner by Flecker and you can read it here . It was good, it was old but it wasn’t relevant any more. So I thought I’d put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) and write one myself. It’s called: Ballad of the Londoner (2007), With Apologies to the Flecker Fella. In the Piccadilly Line carriage Where I’m sat I can’t tell if that woman is just fat Or heavily pregnant and in need of my seat For which I’d happily stand To my destination Final station As long as I don’t get Mugged or bombed Or make eye contact with anyone

Spam, spam, email spam. It all goes into a special filter which I check occasionally, just to make sure the latest Popbitch news hasn’t gone in there by mistake. So, I was checking to retrieve Popbitch from the spam and realised there’s something quite poetic about spam email titles. I thought I’d take the titles, exactly as they were and turn them into a poem. The title and the poem are all from spam, exactly as they arrived. Nothing has been changed. It’s called… Three Steps to the Software You Need at the Prices You Want Play Online Casino Quicky Birds here Have you liked writing yet? Re: ? She will love you more than any other guy Time is unfair Fast secure Easy Re: ? Jacob & Co. Watches Generic medications the only way it goes Re: ? Fwd: deal