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What is a SKREWBALL POEM?

A "Skrewball poem" , or in short "a Skrew" , is a poem with short lines and multiple rhyming or repeated words, often wi...

Saturday, 24 May 2025

Queen

Brooding mare, striking hair, 

Rebellious our Queen, Boadicea,

Red, white and blue,

She was the English overseer.

Her chariot storms the troops, 

Romans shaken with fear,

Arrows fly like sparrows, 

Axe weilded against spear. 

Her hair browny, red and firey, 

Ends plated with blood flares, 

She storms the Latin invaders,

Striking Romes soldiers with dare.

Battling for her home and people, 

Against the Roman legions, 

Smash, blood, and crackle,

She leads the British region. 

Faces painted with blue paint, 

Rolling bales of tar aflame, 

Soldiers run and dive for cover, 

"Holy Zeus", Centurions exclaim. 

Romans sent by Emperor Hadrian, 

Lost became the fate of the 9th legion. 

Due to our killer Queen Boadicea, 

The Romans were eventually beaten. 


© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved


(This won the Facebook Group competition May 2025)

Thursday, 22 May 2025

Ghost Parties

I'm constantly partying with Ghosts,

My dead friends being the hosts.

We rave to House in my dreams,

Lots of sweets n unlimited means.

Cream cakes, booze n smack,

Pregabs, ice cream, an ickle of crack.

Chilling, watching comedy n chat,

Making designs for all r new tats.

We gouch out, giggle n laugh,

Telling old stories of R mad past.

But my lost friends are all in ma head,

I only get to party with the dead.

N at the end I tell em I'll phone.

Then I wake up n realise I'm all alone.


© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Friday, 16 May 2025

Head Shrink

Do you internally think?

Thinking you need a head shrink?

Twenty one eyed wobbly blinks,

Coz a voice in ur heads linked.

I'm schizo, rizo, paranoid dizo,

Anxious, rancorous, mentally smart tho.

Twitchy itchy, living in a kill zone,

Always searching, looking 4 my birth clone.

Has ur brain gone wonky?

Working like a 3 legged donkey?

Planning to throw a ghost party?

Led astray by your monkey?

Coz depression is a constant mission,

Brain atoms split like nuclear fission.

Bed sweats from constant pillow kissin,

Want 2 take a dive n go forever missing.

Got bed rot, n old blood clots,

Never gonna be back at top spot.

Get arrested 4 a hot shot,

N nicked 4 murder by dumb cops.

So go and get ur meds filled,

I'm over scripted like a cow field.

My chemist always has the good pills.

But nothing takes away my brain ails.

Maybe ma heads always gonna be fucked,

Internal plumbing needs a plunge suck.

But what can I do about this head fuck?

Maybe I've just run out of luck?


© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, 13 May 2025

Back Again

Trolleys rolling,

Kettles boiling,

Phone scrolling,

Nurses scolding.

Head pains,

Blood stains,

Muddled brains,

PAL complaints.

A Bell rings,

A Bet wins,

A needle stings,

No phone rings.

Hot showers,

Doctor power,

Visiting hours,

R lonley hours.

Here once more,

F6 upper floor,

Locked med drawer,

My bodies poor.

Never ends,

Mind bends,

Thoughts 2 pen,

I'm back again.


© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Thursday, 1 May 2025

Death

Today I got told my friend is dead,

Seems every time I'm in a hospital bed.

Another pal walks thru heavens gate,

My generation has a deadly fate. 

Is 47 the age of my crews death? 

Coz too many hv taken last breaths. 

In 2 yrs I've lost over 15 mates, 

Too many died a grizly fate. 

My bodies ragged n my brains boiled, 

I got no veins n all my organs R soiled. 

Ppl say I'm next on deaths list, 

Tbh I'd rather skip this life a miss. 

If I do go don't be sad or ask why, 

I've jus spent 2 long in pains cry....


© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Saturday, 5 April 2025

5 Dead Boys

5 dead boys sitting on a wall,

5 innocent souls waiting for a fall.

5 young kids who didn't know fuck all,

5 of us boys, just waiting for deaths call.


First there was Ozzy,

He was my good mate,

But he sucked on gas for fun,

Got frozen lungs for his fate.


Second was my mate Gav,

He took one too many sweets,

Was found dead in his Mums bath,

Fully clothed with sunken feet.


They were both my friends,

Now they're both dead,

No one cared but old bill,

Murder arrests, local papers said.


Then was Mario in Spain,

We toked n walked the sand,

He danced n touched the wrong girl,

Shot by Russian mob, with cut off hands.


N then my old time mate Luke,

Banged, then drunk til his liver was toast.

Cancer spread through him like the plague,

He was a skeleton, dying on the South Coast.


They were all my good friends,

Now they're all brown bread,

I'll be next the Devil said to me,

Making no 5, to join em he said.


5 dead boys were all sat on a wall,

5 dead boys all strutting tall.

Look for those 5 boys they didn't deserve their fall,

But we all die someday, so heed that call.


© 2025 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Friday, 4 April 2025

Kitchen

Yap, yap, yap.

Clack, clack, clack.

Rarr, rarr, rarr.

Clack, Clack, Crack.


I pour from the bottle,

The smell is raw n almost burning.

A drop spills out the beaker,

washing machine starts churning.


The cold plastic box,

is full to the brim.

Of recyclable rubbish,

I need to put in the bin.


Cloth damp n dank,

I rub through my fingers.

As I load up the machine,

That raw smell it still lingers.


Brrr, brrr, brrr.

clunk, clunk, clunk.

rurr, rurr, rurr.

clunk, clunk, clunk.


© 2025 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid