21. Amanda Samm
"If its not sunny, its not funny"
Amanda describes herself as a sixties hippie rock chick who enjoys Karaoke, sudoku and Rummikub, although not necessarily all at the same time. Her reading at the recent launch night for Sixty Odd Poems - the first Half Dozen, earned positive responses with its humour, dialect and quality.
She has a number of published collections including In search of Sympathy or a Cure (2016) Candle (2019) and Gemini (2023),
Her support of the Mexborough Read to Write group and the Sixty Odd Poets projects is much appreciated.
Poems
Senior Exercise The Mangle Sonnot Never Ending Winter Private Life Passion is Fleeting - Laundry Remains
Senior Exercise
I’m exercising muscles that I didn’t know I’d got Trying to get my body back before it goes to pot Less food I can manage, in an effort to get thin I need to do some exercise but where do I begin? I’ve tried a bit of yoga, and pilates is OK But now I have to do the squats and push-ups every day I’ve got a set of dumbbells to tone my bingo wings My biceps and my triceps and other muscley things. I’ve practised doing sit-ups - last week I managed four (Took three days to recover. I won’t do that no more) Aqua fit was freezing. Zumba made me sweat. I’m told I’ll find my balance but I haven’t found it yet. Walking is the answer. At last I’ve found the knack I walked right out the gym today… …and I’m never going back. <<<
The Mangle
Me mother ’ad a mangle She turned it wi’ an ’andle I loved to see the water squashed Out of all the clothes she washed Me brother bought a motor And made it automatic So t’andle wasn’t needed And me mother wa’ ecstatic One day me Mam were poorly So me Gran came to do t’washing She didn’t know about The automatic squashing Got her fingers in the rollers And couldn’t find reverse We had to pull the plug out And what was even worse Blood dripped from her fingers And turned me dad’s shirt red And I got into trouble For repeating what he said Her fingers, flat and floppy Turned purple, blue and black Dad took the mangle motor off And we ’ad to take it back. Now Granny can’t do laundry Or knit things like before Dad bought Mam a twin tub And Granny just sweeps t’ floor. <<<
Sonnot
I thought I’d write a sonnet but the lines were much too long It had too many syllables: it all went very wrong The syllables in sonnets must, they said, add up to ten And this one has fourteen so I would have to start again The rhyming pattern also, was too difficult for me It should go a-b-a-b but this goes a-a-b-b AH! Sonnets should have fourteen lines so this is four lines short Now, maths is not my strong point but I’ve had an awesome thought: I know it’s not a sonnet but the aver’age is mean ‘Cos fourteen lines of ten adds up to ten lines of fourteen! <<<
Never Ending Winter
I’m wrapped up in a blanket (I can’t afford the gas) It’s a never-ending winter And questions must be asked. What happened to the springtime? (If I could be so bold)- They talk of “global warming”- So why is it so cold? This never-ending winter This never-ending rain What if British Summer Time Never comes again? I should have hibernated About five months ago But it didn’t seem too bad at first There wasn’t any snow I thought that I could “weather it” -It won’t “weather” any more I need some Yorkshire sunshine I’m frozen to the core. Don’t give me “global warming” It’s messing with my head I’m putting on my winter coat And going back to bed. <<<
Private Life
Your private life’s not private any more The internet holds everything you share You cannot hide your life behind the screen And robots are emerging everywhere Our secrets are all held within the cloud We use it and we give it all our trust But one day soon that cloud is gonna burst And rain is gonna turn your life to rust Your mind is still your own - maintain it Keep it fresh and use it every day Fight against this tide of cloud control Don’t let if fade or give it all away It wont be long we’ll be assimilated AI. will grow and infiltrate us all They’ll tell us what to think - we’ll be outdated Too late - you’ll find your back against the wall <<<
Passion is Fleeting, Laundry Remains
Somewhere between being girlfriend and wife Passion is fleeting. The laundry’s for life. Somewhere between the losses and gains Passion is fleeting. Laundry remains. Somewhere between the lies and the truth Somewhere between old age and their youth Somewhere between the sheets and the shirts The frocks and the socks, the bruises and hurts Out on the line, left out in the rains Passion is lost but laundry remains. Somehow the tears and the blood and the stains Come out in the wash, and just laundry remains. Somewhere beneath the laughs, the pains and the patio slabs; lover’s remains. <<<
Great to read more of your material - I wasn't aware you're actually in print too. This is different to what I'd seen from you before though - more comment than descriptive perhaps; though I have to say my knowledge of poetry esp formal types (sonnot) is barely minimal. I always enjoy your comments at rtw and look forwards to more:)
Making me chuckle before 9am 👌. Especially enjoyed Laundry.