Bland On Bland – The BookThe theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Closing your eyes“.

Well, this is JVG really rolling the obscure theme dice again this week.

Some times you have to wonder where he comes up with them. But it does make you dig deep for an idea.

Well normally it would, but I had one idea percolating around that just happened to fit the theme, what are the odds?

No Ed this week, but have a listen to how it went below…

To play this poem directly in your browser – just click the “play” button below:

Closing your eyes

It was my birthday, Sunday past
They come around so fast

It only took one week
To go from ‘classic’ to ‘antique’

Just a quite night, no big deal
A few friends, perhaps a meal

“No presents” I contended
They looked at me offended

Though I steadfastly resisted
They emphatically insisted

I said “I want nothing at all”
They begged “Please, just something small”

I sighed “There’s nothing that I need”
But the pricks would not concede

‘It’s my birthday” I implored
Universally ignored

I suppose I should have known
Your birthday’s not your own

In the end exasperated
I capitulated

I reversed my opposition
On the one condition

“I choose what I get”
“Right” they cried “no sweat”

My choice was crystal clear
“I want one pint of beer”

They smiled and said “Okay
Anything you say”

Came the time for my surprise
They shouted “C’mon close your eyes”

Do I have to go through this
For a bloody pint of piss?

Oh well, it might be lame
What the hell, I’ll play their game

“You can open now” they hounded
I pretended to be astounded

Actually in the end
There was no need to pretend

I wondered, what’s their caper?
You can’t wrap up beer in paper

What’s this? Moisturiser?
A Kevin 07 sun visor?

‘What to feed your Iris’?
The Best of Billy Ray Cyrus?

A carob and anchovy treat?
Thongs? But not for your feet

A DVD of ‘The Voice’?
A signed photo of Barnaby Joyce?

Fluoro pink edible jocks?
‘I Love Westlife’ socks?

A relief carved from Coconut Palm
Of Werribee Sewerage Farm?

A brass plaque ‘In Memoriam’
Pinched from Springvale Crematorium?

They felt a beer just wasn’t enough
So I get all this useless stuff

Nothing I want, like or need
And yet not the beer we agreed

By tomorrow they’ll be in a skip
Consigned to the Salvos or tip

Next birthday, recall what I’ve said
Don’t think, ask me instead

No more huffing and puffing
I know what I want, which is nothing

Nothing, in endless amounts
Cause it isn’t the thought that counts

Ungrateful? Got that right
A beer at last – it’s light!

Seems birthdays are for those who
Know what you want more than you

Next year whatever they say
My eyes stay closed all day

© Copyright 2019 Ian Bland


Also, have a listen to “Everything or Nothing

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