STAR POems: 100 Ways to Lose Yourself

By Suzanne Toogood


Drink wine, beer, spirits that cheer,

go on a bike ride, watch the tide, admire Gay Pride,

read a book, be spooked by a spook, try not to look,

don’t get hooked.


Go to the zoo, catch flu, listen to the blues, sew,

cook, spy a rook, or a crow, a sparrow, or a tit,

act like a git.


Go to a show, wear a giant bow, pretend you don’t know,

go slow, jive, tango, eat a mango, do the splits,

back flips, get nits.


Love snow, winds that blow, feelings that glow,

mow the lawn, get up at dawn, go out in a storm,

mourn, feel drawn, pawn your watch, more Scotch.


Take a hike, beat fear of a mike, fish for pike,

beat the clock, sit on the dock, eat jellied eels,

kneel in church, with a hassock, so won’t ache, make.


Smile, look, see, hear, enjoy the scent, the senses,

the sexes, the kids, blow your lid, just stop in the midst.


Buy a frock, think outside the box, cut your locks, smoke,

find a bloke, try coke and get stoned, unadvised,

don’t be naive, ignore strife, get a life.


Have a laugh, or a bath, with incense, with candles,

buy Victorian door handles, Indian sandals, paint toes,

plant rows of peas, sneeze, brain freeze.


Go for a sail, sick over the rail, ride on a whale,

wear a veil, fail, tell the tale, get into jail, get bale,

rail, become a male.


Become a child, go wild, smell the flowers, the coffee,

float like a butterfly, have a lobotomy, plant a tree, drink tea,

get angry, feel free.


January 2017.