The Teapot

by Nick Gisburne

---

The teapot shared their lives for fifty years
Extravagant and brash, but so is she
She cuts a slice of cake and wipes her tears
Then adds a little whisky to the tea
She always loved the contours of his chin
Dismayed to see the hint of any beard
Athletic, rugged, handsome, perfect skin
The spark between them never disappeared
The letters that she wrote him, every day
Had made the war seem shorter, so he said
She found them, just before he passed away
A hundred, sealed with kisses, ruby red
    She swung the teapot, killed him with her rage
    For hers was not the writing on the page

Smash

by Nick Gisburne

---

The storms hurl tides of blood and seething tar
They drench the land in darkness and disease
A river, thick with plague, a poison scar
Delivers death to sterilise the seas
Colossal giants smash the city gates
The throbbing of their engines shakes the skies
Within, the doomed defenders face their fates
And yet, they see a silent spectre rise
The necromancer makes a final stand
Arcane, infernal magic fills his head
Apocalyptic angels sweep the land
The giants, screaming, shatter, broken, dead
    Though little but a wasteland still remains
    They need a plumber, soon, to fix the drains

Duels in the Darkness

by Nick Gisburne

---

Deformity - the torment of her day
The twist of tainted flesh on crooked bone
The eyes of those who witness it betray
The shock, the scorn, the hate she’s always known
At night, she stalks a secret, shadow place
With gun and blade she duels on the street
And, at the point of murder, shows her face
The final fist of terror in defeat
Her victims are the worst of mortal men
The arrogant, the reckless, and the vain
They fight, yet when they die, and only then
Does any man confront what gives him pain
    She duels in the darkness of the night
    With those who would despise her in the light

A Legion of Limericks: 21st Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

I am selling my soul. Will you buy it?
It’s the Angel Mark 2 - you can fly it
It’s a little bit rusty
The morals are crusty
I’ll give you a discount. Just try it

I discovered a hole in the wall
Through the tunnel I eagerly crawl
I expected to find
Something splendid behind
But it’s nothing like Narnia at all

I bought magical beans in a bag
And I don’t want to niggle or nag
But the wizard who sold me
The beans should have told me
There’s ‘Danger of Death’ on the tag

At the castle the princess was torn
By the magical oath she had sworn
“All my duties are clear
But the paragraph here
Says I’m never allowed to do porn”

Hot and sticky, I sat in the sea
And a bear came to join me for tea
When he offered me fish
In a porcelain dish
It was only polite to agree

From the alien energy source
Came a beam of incredible force
But a blizzard of smoke
Filled the sky as it broke
And the warranty? Worthless of course

She has suffered for all of his crimes
In the worst and the darkest of times
For his years of abuse
He will die in the noose
To his death, to the scaffold, he climbs

Tiny leprechauns come for the craic
They are formal at dinner, in black
But they’ve broken the rule
‘Do not shit in the pool’
I am never inviting them back

What a glorious, colourful bird
And the song, quite the sweetest I’ve heard
It was hit by a car
Here’s the head, in a jar
This was not the result I preferred

When the snowman was dating my daughter
I was pleased with the flowers he bought her
But I gave him no doubt
If his snowballs fell out
I would thaw out his thing with hot water

Threads of Aether

by Nick Gisburne

---

We wear it on the aether ships we tame
The highest and the lowest, rich or poor
A pendant, crooked cogwheels, forged in flame
A charm, for luck, a token to be sure
We harvest threads of aether from the sky
The veins are rich, but thick with dark debris
We dance with danger, knowing we may die
And kiss the cogs to set our troubles free
If greed betrays the careless in the clouds
Tenacity is hammered on our hearts
Farewell to anxious lovers, cheering crowds
The ship of dauntless aeronauts departs
    We sail beyond the clouds to claim our prize
    The harvest, threads of aether, from the skies

Whispers of a Nightmare

by Nick Gisburne

---

I pull the shattered scarab from the clay
A shock, a cold connection, grips my heart
The paralysing tendrils of decay
Contaminate, divide, and twist apart
The whispers of a nightmare brush my face
A suffocating evil, septic, sick
They slip inside the mind to take its place
Dismantling my soul, they pry and pick
Unlocked, unleashed, a nauseating curse
Awakens in the shadows of my skin
Immortals, spawned beyond this universe
Impatient for the madness to begin
    The demons of apocalypse descend
    And I, alone, bear witness to the end

A Legion of Limericks: Twentieth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

All is calm as I wait for the sun
In the stillness I steady the gun
I see death in his eyes
But no hint of surprise
For he knows now what has to be done

We are stirring the cauldron of grief
For the infamous Liar-in-Chief
There is nothing inside
Only smiles when he died
And for most there is welcome relief

I have nothing to pay for a meal
Should I beg, perhaps borrow, or steal?
I have one other skill
I’ve decided to kill
It’s a little like clubbing a seal

Scrolls and parchments, strange, alien skin
Tattered bundles, but where to begin?
What strange secrets hide here?
Ancient, festering fear
Are there answers, or madness, within?

From the depths of a fathomless pool
Swarms a legion, accursed and cruel
Are they beasts of the night
Born to butcher and bite
Or the quiet ones bullied at school?

There are days he will never reclaim
He forgets, but has no one to blame
But the treasure, the prize
Is the light in his eyes
When he smiles and remembers your name

I have twenty Bavarian nieces
And the buggers all bore me to pieces
I will cut out their souls
Plant a bomb in the holes
And just hope their banality ceases

When her shadow fell into the water
A bespectacled navy man caught her
He returned it at speed
But he bungled the deed
It belonged to the dog of his daughter

Though I may not be handsome or rich
I was charmed by a beautiful witch
We were out on a date
And the dinner was great
But I woke as a frog, in a ditch

For a hundred and ninety-nine years
I have saved the most precious of beers
It was ready to drink
But it fell in the sink
All I have is a gallon of tears

A Legion of Limericks: Nineteenth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

Let us see how much pain you can take
You are strong, but I know you will break
When your spirits are dead
And the contract is read
You’ll be married and cutting the cake

I will tell you the future I see
Hear the wisdom once given to me
From the day we take breath
We are destined for death
But, as long as we live, we are free

They insist that my face does not fit
And they try to convince me to quit
But I prove them all wrong
I am worthy and strong
On their bigoted bias I spit

When the Devil dropped in on the town
He decided to burn the place down
Good old God was on form
He delivered a storm
So the flames are all out, but we’ll drown

In the smouldering ruins and ash
Bands of sickening scavengers dash
There is profit in pain
Where the helpless are slain
And their bodies are trampled like trash

Call him worthless, a criminal stain
But he thrives in the depths of disdain
In your moment of need
Say his name as you plead
In the heart of his deadly domain

Said the wolf to the innocent child
“I am dangerous, hungry, and wild”
He expected her cry
But she said, “So am I”
Then she picked up the rifle and smiled

In the circle of clowns there is fear
For their master has summoned them here
He exposes the snitch
Drags him into a ditch
And he beats him to death as they cheer

From the moment they breathe, she begins
Weaving tapestries into their skins
Scenes of scandal and shame
Twisted fibres of flame
She must shape every strand of their sins

See the future! Discover your fate!
Take the journey, before it’s too late
It’s a serious crime
But the nature of time
Means of course you could probably wait

A Legion of Limericks: Eighteenth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

The elixir is cold in my throat
And I dream of the sky as I float
Senses seamless and keen
Mind in harmony, clean
But I’m vomiting blood on my coat

Tiny windows where nobody sees
Broken doors with inscrutable keys
Is it prison or tomb?
Is this really my room?
Can I speak to the manager please?

It is torment he cannot avert
An unbearable blizzard of hurt
As he changes and grows
In this body he knows
He will never fit back in that shirt

Let us slaughter the slow and the weak
They will give us the serum we seek
Split the skull and the spine
Drink the fluids like wine
Though their toxins are bitter and bleak

See the bodies hung high in the trees
Watch them swing in the shivering breeze
They are signs of the scourge
Of the poisons we purge
There are none so unworthy as these

In the mirror I fear what I see
I am certain this cannot be me
Cold reflections of age
Disappointment and rage
This is not who I wanted to be

When he whispered the promise, she fled
But his flower she took to her bed
She was charmed by the rose
But together they froze
And he found her by candlelight, dead

Seven witches were quietly sitting
Roasting criminals, smoking and spitting
While they waited to eat
Slowly basting the meat
They were bingeing on Netflix and knitting

With her voodoo she turned him to stone
But the seeds of her downfall were sown
In his shirt was a ticket
She’d even helped pick it
The jackpot, if only she’d known

I have kicked the big bucket - deceased
I can’t wait for my funeral feast
In their droves they’ll attend
Come to mourn a good friend
Or it might be just me and the priest

A Legion of Limericks: Seventeenth (Surreal) Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

As the bird of conspiracy sings
She is haunted by rhythmical strings
But the oracle tells
Of impossible bells
In the gardens of innocent kings

Lonely children with desolate eyes
Light the beacons of dust with their sighs
Only reason rings true
But the echoes we grew
Shade the evergreen glow of the skies

There are castles of cinnamon clover
And their riddles bring rage to the rover
In the darkness of time
See them coil as they climb
For their nightmares will never be over

From the annals of wandering whales
Are subtracted unusual tales
Such an intricate catch
Lures of light are no match
For they whisper with snow in their sails

Swirling armies draw stars in the smoke
In their battles to pray and provoke
Understanding the seed
May empower its creed
To enlighten, yet never uncloak

She begins her illegible signs
With a cobweb of damaging lines
But a scandalous flow
Blows them woefully low
Till the spiders entangle their spines

In the spark of a unicorn’s eye
Long before there were starfish to cry
Only dance filled the trees
But the tangerine seas
Sang of sorrowful seasons gone by

If your vision is fearsome and free
Tell me, why do you wander with me?
Do you struggle to stray
On this dangerous day?
Are you lost in my deadly debris?

From the shadows, where nightingales die
To the fields of the fever we fly
Cloaked in spiralling steam
We are lords of the dream
Come to shatter the shivering sky

Seven circles envelop the dawn
As the child of illusion is born
But the mothers must weep
For the scarlet runs deep
When the sunset bleeds over the corn

A Legion of Limericks: Sixteenth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

It was vengeance, but no one could blame her
When she found he was trying to shame her
As the hate in her eyes
Ripped the tissue of lies
It was clear that no evil could tame her

As I storm every city and town
Watch me burn every inch of them down
When I throw you aside
Though you cower and hide
You will praise me and worship my crown

When the substance was put into gin
It exploded on contact with skin
But a blend with old whisky
Made everyone frisky
Production’s about to begin

She was sculpted with painstaking skill
A gargantuan effort of will
But the artist was old
And his studio cold
So she looks like a duck with a drill

I’m a zombie. I’m falling apart
I’m so hungry I’ve eaten my heart
And I’ve taken a look
There is nothing to cook
I could chop off an arm. It’s a start

She was branded, the miscreant’s mark
And forever ignored in the dark
But the one she accused
Was so quickly excused
That the contrast could not be more stark

There are virile young vampires outside
Each is looking to find a new bride
All the women have packed
And their husbands, now sacked
Beg for one final fumble. Denied

For the fortunate, favourite few
We provide an inedible stew
Those who ordered the duck
You are shit out of luck
It’s a dungeon, not dinner for two

There’s a train coming into the station
It’s the Devil’s Express to Damnation
If you paid for a seat
There are nibbles to eat
If you’re standing, prepare for castration

In this fragile but fortunate place
On a journey through infinite space
See the glorious light
In the stars of the night
And forget that you’re stuck with that face

A Legion of Limericks: Fifteenth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

From the underwear under my bed
Comes the smell of old pork and stale bread
Though the leathery treat
May be deadly to eat
If it kills me at least I’ll be fed

If a movie star’s blessing you lack
When you ask them for sex in the sack
Tell them just where you are
And they’ll send you a car
Though it’s doubtful you’ll ever come back

Yes, a planet has formed in my garden
It is growing and starting to harden
I am eager to see
What the science will be
It’s a cabbage. I do beg your pardon

Once again, while on garden patrol
I discovered a tiny black hole
In the gravity well
Is a curious smell
From a wandering star. Or a mole

There are neighbours I need to destroy
But a hitman is hard to employ
Just a wandering bus
Quick and easy, no fuss
It would give me incredible joy

He is rancid, and everyone knows
From his head lice to gnarly old toes
Though he smells like a ditch
He’s incredibly rich
I would bang him for cash I suppose

There’s a gateway, a portal of light
And I stand here before it, tonight
It may lead me to death
And embrace my last breath
But its pull is too potent to fight

It would seem to be foolishly petty
For a mask to be put on a yeti
Although spreading the virus
Is never desirous
He’s sure to be breathless and sweaty

“You are finished! Surrender your sword!”
Cries the pirate while climbing aboard
But the victim is vexed
About what happens next
“I have quite a collection, my lord...

So could you be a little more specific? Would you prefer the scimitar, the sabre, or perhaps this fine cutlass... Ah. Yes, I see... the dagger at my throat certainly does bring some clarity to the proceedings. Shall we begin again? So...

Why not all of these weapons, my lord?”

There is yearning and hunger and greed
As she enters the city to feed
She unleashes the urge
And she soars to the surge
Of the heat from their hearts as they bleed

A Legion of Limericks: Fourteenth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

I have nothing to give you but pain
All your questions deserve my disdain
You’re the customer, yes
But I’d hazard a guess
You are missing a part of your brain

In the sulphurous swamps of the east
Lurks an ancient, unspeakable beast
He is easy to kill
With a portable drill
So a sequel was never released

There are spiders attached to her chin
Spinning cobwebs all over her skin
Though it led to divorce
She can feel no remorse
For her freedom from flies is a win

I have joined a promiscuous cult
As a fully consenting adult
Though I waited in line
And bent over the shrine
I had hoped for a better result

The delirium enters his mind
And the madness begins to unwind
On his soul is a scar
He was parking the car
But was given a ticket and fined

In a game of barbarian chess
There is only one rule to address
Simply cover the board
With a ravaging horde
And prepare for a terrible mess

Grind the lungs of a monkey to paste
Add the legs of a spider and baste
Speak a blasphemous rhyme
Serve with maggots and slime
And your children will die for the taste

Said the Sphinx, “Solve this riddle for me
What has four feet, then two feet, then three?”
“It’s a person, I think
Yes, it’s me, on the drink
At the door, when I can’t find my key”

There were seventeen swords in her chest
And she wasn’t quite feeling her best
“Look your last on the sky
For today you must die!”
From the clues she had probably guessed

Through the mirror of murderous kings
Comes the damnable end of all things
Desolation returns
And the universe burns
As the bell of the prophecy rings

A Legion of Limericks: Thirteenth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

What a wonderful day for a ride
In the coffin of someone who died
There is plenty of room
In the back of the tomb
If the lavender lube is applied

They are watching us, tucked in the trees
And I think they can smell the disease
I’m a little unsure
When we pay for the cure
Should we whistle, or offer the cheese?

On a fascist, dystopian planet
Stands a statue of Hitler in granite
It’s enormous in size
What a Nazi surprise
But their leader refuses to ban it

There are skeletons under the tree
You must feed them with poisonous tea
If the potion runs dry
You will certainly die
For their leader is merciless - me

He had stolen her magical skin
But it summoned her, hidden within
As her soul was set free
He was nailed to a tree
And he wept as she butchered his kin

She had nothing but rage and a gun
And she told him to get up and run
When he fell and he bled
He was already dead
But she screamed, “Are we now having fun?”

We are proud of our studious daughter
She absorbed all the lessons we taught her
Stealing treasure in sacks
Slicing skulls with an axe
Her degree is in pillage and slaughter

I was trying to polish my dragon
Round the back of the medicine wagon
When the doctor walked in
He said, “Don’t use the bin!
Here’s a sterile emergency flagon”

When I dream, I see visions of you
They are moments so precious, so few
But you’re frying a cat
In a whirlpool of fat
While an octopus paints a canoe

As I strap the device to my head
And the coils of the vortex burn red
I have summoned a gate
To a power so great
It will shatter the sunrise with dread

A Legion of Limericks: Twelfth Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

I can sing with incredible force
And my pets have to listen of course
But the notes were so flat
That they clobbered the cat
And I’ve twisted the teeth of my horse

Tell me, why are you looking so sad?
You have killed your own mother - be glad
She spent all of her life
As a tormented wife
And she’s finally free of your dad

Giant eagles are filling the skies
Swooping low as they strike for the eyes
But their bloodthirsty lust
Will ignore me I trust
I am wearing my chicken disguise

There is moonlight and music and bliss
As the lovers lean closer to kiss
Their melodious hearts
Play a fanfare of farts
And they both need to go for a piss

As the vampires return to the hive
Every victim is barely alive
One can never be sure
If the prey is impure
But on virgins it’s hard to survive

The celestial kingdom is lost
Overcome by a murderous frost
Lying silent and cold
Stripped of all of its gold
It’s a crime how much heating can cost

She is trapped in a circle of time
And returns to the scene of the crime
As she waits for the knife
To extinguish her life
Father’s footsteps continue to climb

Sailing hard through the storm and the snow
Through the seas of the siren they go
As she beckons the ship
She has started to slip
Falling flat on her face, far below

Mighty demon, before thee I bow
To thy shadow I shackle my vow
By this powerful hex
Bring me seafood and sex
But I’d settle for strippers, for now

She would never have smiled if she knew
What the fairies intended to do
As they pulled out her teeth
And they tunnelled beneath
They were stripping her skin for a stew

A Legion of Limericks: Eleventh Cohort

by Nick Gisburne

---

I’m a Viking, ferocious and strong
But my pillaging doesn’t take long
When the peasants are dead
And the rivers run red
I wear dresses and break into song

I am drilling a hole in my head
And my brains on the carpet are spread
When it’s empty in there
I am fully aware
I will need to recover in bed

I can still see the look in your eyes
At your Valentine dinner surprise
I remember the meat
So deliciously sweet
There were pieces of you in the pies

No suspicion was put on the bride
When he jumped from the window and died
But the body was found
Strangled, poisoned and drowned
So perhaps he just couldn't decide

There are llamas all over the road
And they’re speaking in Spanish, in code
Argentina is full
Of combustible wool
And I think it’s about to explode

They had buried him ages ago
Yet his body survived in the snow
He was legally dead
And still missing the head
So success as a singer was slow

There’s an angel too clumsy to fly
And I think I’ve identified why
When he severed a wing
He attached it with string
And the glue is refusing to dry

From the alien milkmen in space
Came a force no defences could chase
Now the cities all scream
As the skies fill with cream
And there’s yogurt all over the place

He has fallen to ruin and rust
And his body decays in the dust
As an army of ants
Finds a home in his pants
He decides that a cleaner’s a must

It was tragic how Santa Claus died
From a diet of reindeer, deep fried
When no coffin would fit
He was thrown in a pit
In a shiny red box, wrapped and tied

Government Guidelines: Vacation Protocol

by Nick Gisburne

---

The sickness has infected sector nine
Possessions will be sterilised and burned
All passengers must strip and face the line
Approval for the shelter must be earned
Protection will be rendered by the spray
Do not inhale until you reach your mark
For those who wish to urinate or pray
Please use the hole provided after dark
A lethal strain, detected in the camp
Determines that we scan you for disease
A mandatory radiation lamp
Will enter as you bend and touch your knees
    A pill will be provided every day
    Without it you will die. Enjoy your stay

The Legend of Dána Nocht

    (dor-nah nokt)

by Nick Gisburne

---

The dangerous enchantments of the Fey
Within their darkest catacombs were locked
But then a spiteful spirit stole away
The foul, forbidden book of Dána Nocht
The fairy king sent goblin scouts to hunt
And anxiously awaited their return
The spirit, soon besieged on every front
Disguised the book with roots and leaves and fern
The king, without his magic, died, alone
No seekers found the secret, though they tried
By moonlight you can hear the spirit moan
Corrupted by the wickedness inside
    The pages, frail and faded, warped and worn
    Are filled with scary, hairy, fairy porn

---

The Irish words Dána Nocht can be read as ‘dor-nah nokt’, but you’ll need someone more fluent than I to tell you exactly how to pronounce them.

To find a translation of Dána Nocht from the Irish, first read the poem, then click here.
You’ll be glad you did.

The Queen of Old

by Nick Gisburne

---

Her robes of golden silk are drab today
The armour chafes the creases of her skin
Will nothing turn these enemies away?
She does not want the battle to begin
The memory of war soon folds and fades
And peace is rarely found, though long pursued
The crown of serpents coiled around her braids
Proclaims her strength, or is it servitude?
The armies gather, angry dolls and toys
New blades of steel oppose her velvet hands
To fight, to die, her every word destroys
A future she no longer understands
    She longs to leave the field, to leave the light
    The Queen of Old, too weary for the fight

Catching Fairies

by Nick Gisburne

---

I’m certain that this plan will make me rich
There’s nothing here I cannot understand
I’ve heard that catching fairies needs a witch
But in the 1930s that was banned
The traps, so very simple and unique
Are baited with a pair of screaming kids
The blueprints mention how to make them shriek
Just bash their little heads with saucepan lids
The fairy folk will flap here in a fit
Addicted, like a duckling to a quack
And then I’ll use the mallet, just a bit
And bag the little buggers in a sack
    Well, sadly, this was not the perfect day
    The fairies ate the kids and got away