RUMPLESTILTSKIN

Everyday he'd turn up
and sweep
the turnings on the factory
floor to piles
and no-one new his name.

They'd call him Jud,
or little Jud.
They thought he were Jud's
son, but he weren't.
He didn't even know a Jud.

One day, he comes in
all quiet
and gets about his sweeping.
The missus no-one knew he had
had lost the bairn.

Afterwards they called him nowt.
Cut a wide berth
round the machines to avoid
conversation.
Nothing awkward like. Just work.

At the Christmas do he didn't show.
Sent a photograph
two days later from Magaluf
and a bottle of champagne,
offering his resignation.

A bottle of champagne
for thirteen men?
We barely got a thimble each
the spawny get.
Jud. Ungrateful sod.

ILL TREATMENT BY HUSBAND

The first bowl of porridge was too hot.

The second bowl of porridge was too cold.

The third bowl of porridge was never right.

He sat in a chair that was too hard.

He sat in a chair that was too soft.

He smashed a chair over her head.

In the bedroom he treated her roughly.

In the bedroom he kissed her neck tenderly.

In the bedroom he near-half strangled her.

One night three bears broke into the kitchen

and disturbed the contents of cupboards and bins

and nobody has seen him since.

THREE LITTLE PIGS

First we lived in a house of bricks

and the wolf was the landlord

and the wolf came

and blew the bricks in.

Then we lived in a house of sticks

and the wolf was the landlord

and the wolf came

and blew the sticks in.

Then we lived in a house of straw

and the wolf was the landlord

and the wolf came

and blew the straw in.

Then we lived in the roads and streets

and the wolf was the landlord

and the wolf came

and blew us all in.

This was partly inspired by part of this interview with Owen Jones: click here to view

Listen to the songified version: here

HAPPY ENDING

for AG

The prince and princess were married,
or not married, or married but only by
common-law, and the frog was involved.

They were married by the turkey who lived
on the hill with a ring on his nose at noon,
or midnight. There were stars, or sunshine,

or rainclouds, a hurricane of weather systems
applauding the marriage. They were blanketed
in snow, or swirled in dandelion seeds,

or eidered in down. The frog turned into
a handsome priest when they kissed his frock,
and the dish sloped off with the laughing dog.




This poem was commissioned for charity. You too can commission here http://www.justgiving.com/Gavin-Hudson1