My very first funny poem, which I turned into a trilogy...

Monsters in my car

I was driving home from work one day,
The weather had turned cold.
A monster and his family
Went and jumped into the road.

Their seven heads (one hadn’t yet grown)
Looked up and down the car.
And the father (at least I think it was)
Asked, “Are you going far?”

Now, what to say on that cold day
To monsters in the road,
With fifteen arms (I’d lost my count)
And skin as gold as…well, gold?

“I’m going home to my warm house -
It’s only small,” I said.
The mother monster (she had long hair)
Said, “We only want a bed.”

So in they climbed, the four of them -
Their nineteen legs were squashed.
I left a window open
Because I don’t believe they’d washed.

We drove through snow, they never spoke,
Except to ask my name.
And to say that they were Schmoogles
And from whereabouts they came.

And they asked me if I knew at all
Of the spotted Ignaroo.
I thought about it for a while
And said, “I don’t believe I do.”

They said that was a shame because,
The night being so cold…
And then another monster
Went and jumped into the road.

“The Ignaroo!” my monsters cried
(I was quite attached by then).
I stopped the car and, of the
Ignaroo, I counted ten.

My house was small, oh that was true,
But my car was smaller still.
But the Ignaroo just clambered in
And we lumbered up the hill.

We all shook hands, my monsters,
The Ignaroo and me.
And then a tiny monster asked,
“Excuse me, what’s for tea?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” I said,
But then I passed a sign
Which read ‘Monster Supermarket Sale‘,
So I thought that would do fine.

Have you ever shopped for monsters?
It’s no fun with wonky wheels.
But seven trolleys later
I had fourteen monster meals.

Returning to the car
With monsters squished and squashed inside,
Mmm…where to put the shopping
Whilst continuing the ride?

There was just one small place empty
And, my arms weighed down with fruit,
I opened up the rear
To find twelve monsters in the boot.

“Hello, we are the Grinsters.
Nice to meet you. How d’you do?
The Schmoogles and the Ignaroo
Said we were welcome too.”

I closed the boot – well, what to do?
Where would all of this stop?
And, opening up the driver’s door,
I said, “You all have to move up!”

And they all did. The monsters
Really are a bendy race.
There were knees and elbows and other bits
Crammed into every face.

The trolleys finally emptied,
I squeezed into my car,
And started on my way again.
“It isn’t very far.”

Ten minutes later we arrived.
I stopped the engine there,
And asked the monsters to get out,
Then climbed out of my chair.

And so the monsters followed me,
Schmoogles and Ignaroo,
Exploding from my little car,
Each carrying some food.

“Don’t forget the Grinsters,”
A little monster said.
And then the boot flew open
And bonked me on the head.

When I awoke the house was quiet,
No monster was in sight.
It must have been a dream, I thought
As I turned out the light.

I climbed the stairs and brushed my teeth.
How good to be at home,
With the snow and wind so wild outside,
How nice to be alone.

I climbed in bed, and felt some fur.
But I didn’t have a pet.
And suddenly…twenty six loud voices cried…
“IS BREAKFAST READY YET?!”

The monsters’ day out

Have you read the first poem I’d written
About monsters I met on the road,
And brought home for dinner at my house
On that night that was unusually cold?

In that poem I woke in the morning,
With a bump on the top of my head,
Only to find them there with me,
And asking for breakfast in bed.

Well, they must have unpacked all the shopping
(And I’d bought ten times more than was plenty).
I was grateful they’d filled up the cupboards,
But the packets and boxes were empty.

When the car boot had knocked me unconscious,
They must have sat down for a bite,
And then tucked me in bed nice and cosy,
Then joined me to sleep through the night.

So there I was, stuck with four Schmoogles,
Accompanying ten Ignaroo,
And topping it off with twelve Grinsters,
With nothing for monsters to do.

I brushed my teeth while I was thinking,
And got dressed behind the closed door.
And when I walked back in my bedroom,
I found there were eight monsters more.

There weren’t any other new species -
No Spingles or Quinkers or Splots.
But bouncing around on my mattress
Were eight newly born monster tots.

I said to the proud monster ladies,
‘I didn’t know you were pregnant last night.’
The ladies looked down at their nine legs,
And said, ‘We were not - you are right.’

But that subject I didn’t wish to dwell on -
An idea had just come to my mind.
The fairground had opened that morning,
And the weather was looking divine.

I promised them food when we got there,
And we all walked out into the day.
A Grinster spoke to me in Monstrish,
And asked if it was a long way.

I explained that it wasn’t much further
Than the journey we’d take to come back,
And he said if it took any longer
He would have Schmoogle tot for a snack.

So they bundled back into my small car -
Their manners were slightly uncouth.
But we couldn’t fit in all the Grinsters,
So the baby ones went on the roof.

I’m not boring you all with the journey
(I did that in rhyme number one).
Needless to say it was crowded,
And I wanted it over and done.

So we arrived at the fairground at lunchtime,
And I unstrapped the kids from the top.
But one of them couldn’t help crying,
‘I was scared and I wanted to stop!’

Then the rest of the monsters exploded
From the doors of my car once again,
And this time they were so tightly packed in
That they popped like a cork from Champagne.

The first thing to do was to feed them,
And I said, ‘There’ll be hot dogs all round!’
And the next thing I knew, Mummy Schmoogle
Was setting alight a poor hound.

It was too late to save the old dog now,
So I dragged them away to the tent.
Then I ordered up seventy hot dogs,
And this time explained what I meant.

And then there were seventy burgers,
And seventy candy floss too,
And seventy toffee bananas,
And seventy trips to the loo.

And then they all said they were thirsty,
So I bought seventy bottles of pop.
But they just tried to squirt one another,
So I told them quite sternly to stop.

And then it was time for the fun bit.
We queued for an hour for the wheel.
It took us around in ten seconds,
And a Grinster brought up his whole meal.

So we thought we would go on the dodgems,
But the Ignaroo didn’t understand
That you were meant to crash into each other,
And demanded all children be banned.

Then we walked to the mirrors of magic
That distorted all shapes, short and tall,
And made humans look just like the Schmoogles.
So the Schmoogles adopted them all,

And took them all onto the ghost train
Which broke down very near to the end.
When the engineer came they all jumped out
From the ghost he was trying to mend.

The coconut shy man was cheating -
That nut was just too hard to hit.
So a Schmoogle got into a tantrum
And threw a small Grinster at it.

He won a big teddy as jackpot,
And cuddled it sweetly, then said,
‘I’ll share it,’ and ripped it to pieces,
Then put his hand inside its head.

‘I’m just a small teddy, don’t eat me!’
The monsters all fell on the floor,
And laughed as they scoffed the poor teddy,
Then asked if they could eat one more.

I said, ‘We must really be going.
The babies are closing their eyes.’
But the Ignaroo Mum said, ‘Don’t worry.
We’ll just give them away as a prize.’

So that’s what they did with the babies.
To people who wanted to play,
They could guess the new names for the monsters,
And the winner could take them away.

We had Ian and Martin and Dave and Juan Carlos
And Chloe, Charmaine and Chantelle.
But we thought Quasimodo was what we liked best
Because, somehow, that name rang a bell.

So we gave all the babies away to a lady
Who’d already won a huge frog.
And I saw in the distance an angry old man,
And beside him a smouldering dog.

So I said to the monsters, ‘Look lively!
It is time we decided to split.’
But, with all of the food they had eaten,
In the car there was no way they’d fit.

So some Ignaroo climbed in the front seat,
And some Schmoogles climbed into the back.
Grinsters half in the boot, and the rest on the roof,
And the car full of creaks and of cracks…

In the mirror I saw the man pointing,
So I screamed to the monsters, ‘Hang on!’
And before they replied, we were moving.
And before he arrived, we were gone.

As we disappeared over the mountain,
And we headed back home to Chez Me,
A small Schmoogle leaned over my shoulder
And asked, ‘Mister, what time is tea?’
The monsters go to school

It was that dismal time of year
That every child detests –
When summer holidays are gone
And everyone’s depressed.

I’d woken up quite early
And I’d nipped out to the shop
And, when I got home with the food,
I woke the monsters up.

The Schmoogles were excited,
Said they’d had a problem sleeping.
The Ignaroo were nervous
And had spent the whole night weeping.

The Grinsters were just angry
And they woke up in a mood.
But all of them agreed that
It was time to have some food.

So I cooked them bacon sandwiches,
Fried eggs and lemonade,
Cereal and sausages
And then they went and played.

They came back in for croissants,
Jam on toast and other stuff,
Porridge, peas and squirty cheese…
I yelled out, “That’s enough!”

They didn’t take much notice,
So I gave another SHOUT!
And led them to their rooms where
I had laid their school clothes out.

I let them dress in private
But, just after I had gone,
I realised they didn’t know how
To put their school clothes on.

But I thought I’d leave them to it –
They had to learn somehow.
And several minutes later
A tiny voice squeaked, “Ready now!”

I strolled back to the bedroom,
Where I found them in strange poses.
There were arms tucked into trouser legs
And socks being worn on noses.

Some had ties around their waists
And some around their heads.
And one small naked Schmoogle
Had eaten all his clothes instead.

Eventually I straightened up
Their clothes and made them smart,
And a tear rolled down my face
As something small tugged at my heart.

I looked down at the tugging
And an Ignaroo gazed back,
Asking, “Can you take a photo please?”
And then, “Can I have a snack?”

I found the camera, lined them up.
I shouted out, “Say cheese!”
And all the monsters ran towards the fridge
And yelled, “Yes, please!”

As you may know, to get a load of
Monsters in one car
Just isn’t worth the hassle
When you’re not travelling far.

So, in a line, we walked to school.
The monsters joked and played,
And ran around and made strange sounds,
And sicked up lemonade.

Some children walked ahead of us
But I’d warned that, should they meet them,
The monsters must act nice and calm
And not attempt to eat them.

Near the school, a busy road
Was guarded by a bloke
Who carried a big lollipop
Which a Grinster went and broke.

He ran after a child,
The lollipop held like a racquet,
And shouted, “Let’s play toddler tennis!”
And then began to whack it.

I grabbed the Grinster, told him off,
And gave the lolly back,
And said sorry to the mum of who
My Grinster had attacked.

Then through the gate and at the school
We finally arrived.
I must admit I was relieved
That we had all survived.

That’s when I saw the faces
Of the children at the school –
Mouths open wide in pure surprise,
And others dripping drool;

Eyes bursting from sockets,
Faces filled with fear.
Then, from the corner of a little girl’s eyes,
Tumbled one small tear.

The children started screaming.
The mums and dads screamed too.
And that seemed to upset
One of the smallest Ignaroo.

Now, I’d never seen what happened
To an Ignaroo when scared.
I suppose I’d never asked
And I had never really cared.

But when an Ignaroo gets frightened
He swells up and explodes
Into a million Ignaroo
(Well, if not a million, loads).

The Ignaroo went everywhere –
Such tiny little things,
Flying here and flying there
On tiny monster wings.

They landed on the mums and dads,
Who screamed and tried to struggle.
But my mummy Ignaroo yelled out,
“They only want a cuddle!”

Yet the parents ran and panicked
As the tiny monsters wriggled
And the Schmoogles, Grinsters, Ignaroo
And children laughed and giggled.

And I just stood there staring
With no idea of what to do.
Then I took a breath and shouted
To the mummy Ignaroo.

“You have to try to stop it!
You have made me look a fool!
This isn’t how you’re supposed to act
On your first day at school!”

Still the human adults shrieked and screamed
In panic and distress
Until, from the nearest classroom
Walked a deadpan headmistress.

“Watch,” said daddy Schmoogle
From both his mouths at once.
And we all stood still and waited –
The oddest, strangest, weirdest bunch.

Then, from the mouth of the headmistress,
A whistle sharply blew
And, slipping from the mums and dads,
Fell the tiny Ignaroo

Who stopped being so frightened,
Lost their wings and lost their feathers,
Crawled back to where they’d come from
And then glued themselves together.

So there we stood in silence –
My monster friends and me.
And, all around, the parents
Stood and gawked bewilderedly.

And then a little girl came up
And took a Schmoogle’s hand,
And then a boy said, “Come with me,”
To all the Grinsters and,

Within the briefest moments
Every monster had a child,
And was led to the headmistress
Who stood at the front and smiled

And said, “To all, good morning.
Children, monsters – form a queue.
I know it’s scary being here -
I’m feeling quite scared too.”

And before I turned around to go,
A tear rolled down my cheek.
My monsters had grown up since
I had met them, just last week.

And so I left the playground
As the school bell gave a chime
But, before I did, I heard a voice ask,
“Is it dinner time?”

© Copyright Mike Lucas