Comfort and Joy

Paul Bell

It’s with heavy heart I pen this verse
Watching your father pass  by in the hearse
Takes me back to that night in the shed
When you said, this is like fireworks
It was,  I dropped the cigarette on the petrol can
Still, as I remarked, not many sheds get a technicolour funeral
He was beyond reason
Not helped when rumours of porno magazines started circulating
He told me straight, marry my daughter, and I’ll kill myself
So we married in haste
But he didn’t keep his promise
What a waste
Still, when that great oak fell on top of his new shed
I had a grin from ear to ear
It was like the chainsaw massacre, but more fun
It was about that time you found god
I found your sister
You forgave me, I was weak
She was pregnant, sixteen weeks
Your dad went mad, he said I was the devil incarnate
Then he dropped dead
They looked at me in horror, in dread
Like it was something I said
Do something they cried
I didn’t know any songs, so I punched him between the eyes
He was definitely dead
I carried the coffin
The least  I could do
I shed a tear, maybe two
We decided to scatter his ashes over his pride and joy
But they couldn’t be found
The crematorium were in shock, people were running around
It was like he just disappeared
I was agog
Couldn’t see the mist for the smog
Later that day, just to console
I produced a big rocket
Really his soul
I set it off, and said goodbye
They had a little cry
It climbed high in the sky
They gave a sigh
Should it not explode
Well it is supposed to go with a bang
Just then it made its descent
It was like he was heaven sent
Plummeting to earth
Mad as hell
We all dived for cover
Just as well
She screamed, oh god, oh boy
No need to tell you where he landed
Okay then
His comfort and joy.

  • Author: Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 22nd, 2022 13:24
  • Category: Humor
  • Views: 28
  • User favorite of this poem: Gingerpoetryman.
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Comments4

  • Gingerpoetryman

    A pretty funny poem, great job.
    Just kind of inconvenient timing, right when I upload a poem about my grandad dying last weekend but hey! What can ya do?

    • Paul Bell

      I think your grandad would have loved it.

    • Doggerel Dave

      Attachment - what a burden, what a curse.... a shed, a daughter..... a life curdled by these two. Still, you did your best to liberate him, Paul - no one could have asked more of you than that.

      • Paul Bell

        I thought it was a fitting epitaph. lol

      • Goldfinch60

        Wonderful fun write Paul.

        I must remember not to come your way.

        Andy

        • Paul Bell

          He spent too much time in his shed anyway, definitely not healthy.

        • Neville


          You were a very norty boy .. & it aint hard to see that there's more than just a little bit of residual lingering, just waiting to .......... 🙂



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