Happy 40th Birthday Big Bwuv, Love From Baby Sis
This is the poem that started it all off for me. In 1996, my older brother Stephen turned 40, but unfortunately, I was broke at the time, so I couldn’t afford to buy him a present. So, I decided to try and write him something instead. Thankfully, this appealed to his strange sense of humour, and he loved it. He showed it to everyone he knew, and before long, I was taking orders from other people, (people I had never met,) for poems, too. Strangers were sending me their life story, or those of their loved ones, (especially all those embarrassing little secrets that we all have,) and I found that I could turn anything into a poem. If you, or someone you know deserves their embarrassing little secrets turned into a poem, why not have me write it for you. They make great party pieces.
Happy 40th Birthday,
Big Bwuv, love from Baby Sis.
By Amanda Jay Clark.
What do you buy a very
old man,
Whose age is double his IQ?
Birthday or not, it wasn’t my fault,
The shops had nothing for you.
I could buy you a comb if you had any hair,
I could buy you a brush for your locks.
I could buy you some shoes, orthopaedic of course,
To hide all the holes in your socks.
Then, I thought of your corns, and your calluses,
Your gout, and your ugly bunions.
And with the smell of cheese that comes from your feet,
You’d be better off wearing onions.
I could buy you some jewels to wear round your neck,
A chain of the finest gold,
But the added weight would put strain on your back.
That’s a curse of the very old.
I could buy you some clothes for the nightlife.
Trendy, chic, black, and tight.
But after one whirl round the dance floor,
You wouldn’t be walking upright.
I thought of the strain on your bladder,
So I wouldn’t buy you booze to drink.
You wouldn’t get up the stairs in time,
And you’d have to pee in the sink.
Neither would I buy you chocolates.
Cholesterol’s a problem, you know.
They can also bind and constipate,
Making it impossible for you to go.
I could buy you a trumpet to blow on.
Play a tune that the family could hum.
But your lungs would never manage it,
You have more air come out of your bum.
I could buy you some fancy undies,
To replace the ones that you’ve blown.
But, if that’s all you’re going to do in them,
You can damn well buy your own!
Then, I thought of some fancy hankies,
With your initials embroidered in gold.
But at the pace you walk at, at your age,
You’re even too slow to catch cold.
I could buy you a sweater for warmth,
But at your age, who needs to sweat?
Dehydration could easily happen,
And you’d be sore from the constant wet.
I thought that you might like a video,
A film that was made in your youth.
But Valentino would remind you how old you are,
And you couldn’t take the truth.
So then, I thought of a novel,
Till I thought of the strain on your eyes.
So I put it back on the top shelf,
With the others a dirty man buys.
I was going to buy you a holiday,
But everywhere I looked,
I couldn’t find a vacancy,
The rest homes were all fully booked.
I even tried a health farm,
But because you’re getting on,
I had to show them a photo of you,
And they said you were too far gone!
So, you’ll have to make do with this poem.
It’s all I have to give.
But look on the bright side, Stephen,
It’ll last you as long as you live.
It’ll never need repairing,
Cos there’s nothing here to break.
So you can bury your tools in the garden,
PLEASE for heavens sake!
This poem may not be to your taste,
Cos I don’t know your favourite flavour,
But there’s no gift out there that’s safe for you,
So I’m really doing you a favour!
Happy 40th Birthday Big Bwuv, is protected by copyright, and remains the property of the author, Amanda Jay Clark.