John Carter Brown


John Carter Brown Poems

281. It's No Fun 8/25/2012
282. Not Romantic 8/25/2012
283. On The Move Again 8/17/2012
284. Apple Pie And Custard 8/28/2012
285. The Old Box 8/15/2012
286. Those Were The Days 8/25/2012
287. Two Jackdaws 10/6/2013
288. Dreamland 9/3/2013
289. When Life 9/3/2013
290. Fit For Nothing 9/6/2013
291. Maggie T 4/10/2013
292. R.P. And The Elite 7/28/2013
293. Limerick 109 2/22/2013
294. An Institution Thing 11/7/2013
295. Old Places, Old Things 10/29/2013
296. The Ordinary Man In The Street 10/12/2012
297. Limerick 050 10/10/2012
298. Mirrors 10/6/2012
299. Peace 10/4/2012
300. No E 10/1/2012
301. Limerick 084 11/23/2012
302. Limerick 083 11/27/2012
303. Limerick 075 (For Val) 11/11/2012
304. The Lottery Monster 8/24/2012
305. I Miss You, I Wish You 8/25/2012
306. I'M Not An Ape Man 8/21/2012
307. You Could 8/13/2012
308. Weston-Super-Mare 8/15/2012
309. Christmas Again 8/17/2012
310. Spelling 8/16/2012
311. War 9/8/2012
312. For Ellias (A Limerick) 9/9/2012
313. Hair Today - Gone Tomorrow 9/13/2012
314. Death Of A Phone 9/21/2012
315. April (An Acrostic) 2/17/2014
316. May (An Acrostic) 2/24/2014
317. Three (An Acrostic) 4/17/2014
318. Matter 11/25/2013
319. Into The Morning 11/29/2013
320. Monday (An Acrostic) 2/6/2014
Best Poem of John Carter Brown

A Hole In My Sock

I've noticed, again, a small hole in my sock
And there's something I don't understand:
It puzzles me greatly, I'm baffled, and so
On this subject I now should expand.

I put the sock onto my left foot and see
That peeping out there's my big-toe;
This makes me unhappy, because I am sure
That left there, the small hole it must grow.

To effect a solution is easy enough,
So I swap the sock o'er to my right,
Then the known laws of physics get twisted around,
I begin to lose trust in my sight.

I cannot believe what I see on my foot
It seems that...

Read the full of A Hole In My Sock

The Old Box

Whatever is on the old box
It don't matter,
Some people just sit there
Their eyes getting fatter;
Their brains being dulled
By the flickering screen,
By the adverts that urge them
To buy what they've seen;
They worship their telly

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