Category Archives: Brands and the Management of Meaning

Random inspiration’s results on Royal Street, New Orleans

12 Thursday Mar 2020

Posted by in Brands and the Management of Meaning, Flotsam, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

New Brand Poetry:

Random Inspiration on Royal Street, New Orleans

The sweet gummy taste of the welch’s

Sends my taste buds swirling around

the milky way orbiting toward

some caramel chocolate fantasy

mouth watering

the jingle jangling in my mouth

with each bite

as my eyes wander to the bowl

peanut butter

M&Ms

colourful candid shells

hiding the delicious peanut butter

handfuls and handfuls

i desire

but I let them

remain

for the company

coming for dinner

with the kids

expecting sugar rushes

 

by Dee, the Poet on Demand

New Orleans

5 March, 2020

 

A Love Song to a Merry Wife of Waitrose*

04 Thursday Oct 2018

Posted by in Brands and the Management of Meaning, Poetry, The Language of Voice

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

images-1

Entranced by the elegance

I found amidst these shelves

I stand burrated:

Your beet-rooted servant

Who contemplates the promise

Of a kimchi smile.

Let’s picnic now!

I long to dance the tapenade with you

Clink glasses at the golden hour

Sip Miraval

And partner with appropriate toasts,

Beachcomb for salt and seaweed

To crust and bake our love;

Let’s merge like tagliata

And rocket parmesan,

Before the blowtorch sun retreats

To burn the sugar and so hide

The cream of deep affection.

 

 

*From the collection: Brand New Poetry

 

Poems of Place: At the M&S Café, Walsall

03 Sunday Jun 2018

Posted by in Brands and the Management of Meaning, poems of place, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

Poems of Place: At the M&S Café, Walsall

IMG_1502

 

Sitting amidst the rich and zingy,

Zesty feast of flavours that is

The Marks and Spencer Café,

I think of you and me.

 

And as I scan my ebbing latte’s tidal art

I think of places in this town, our town

Where post-school, we met

To court, hold hands and play.

 

I wrote you soppy poems,

Buttressed with pilfered fragments, yet in homage,

Treasured the hour before our haven closed

And the moment came to walk you to the ‘bus

 

Back in town today, ours – but not,

I’m close to where we sat and laughed

Not knowing nor imagining then,

The rich and zingy zesty love we’d share.

 

 June 2nd, 2018