Our own Daily Wrestlemania


Forget about ECW or WWE

Sumo Wrestling & Lucha Libre

Flying off the top ropes

Onto our screens

Piledrivers; dropkicks & chokeholds

Tombstones and sleeper holds


Wait till you get a few kicks

In the small of your back

A few flailing elbows

In the side of your face

From our little luchador

And nocturnal gymnast

By the name of Grace

As she carefully picks

Her moment to attack.


Buries her face in the pillow

Backside in the air like at the gym

Falls back on her side. Turns and tosses

Stretches out her limbs

Full length.

So you know who the boss is.



Leaves you’re doing your best

To hang on to your space

In your horizontal home

Hovering on the precipice

Of your duvet domain

With no ropes in place

To prevent the inevitable pain

Of falling off the side

Onto the floor. Ouch!!

Think it’s the couch again

For me.


That’s only if you’ve made it that far

For many of us are still at the point

Of wrestling and wrangling

A over-tired and curious child

Who shows no sign of going


Head pushed back and legs a dangling

This could take a while

Hair dishevelled and tears a flowing

And that’s just parents

Whose nerves are jangling

As we pace the floor for miles

Trying get up their wind, knowing

If you don’t, they’ll be saddling

Your lap in a while

With more wind and tv screen glowing


Pulling them in and holding them close

Trying to calm and appease

Our wriggling; writhing gremlins

And agitated little creatures

Who just refuse to cease

There are few exemptions

In what has become a night-time feature


Whispering and singing to our little mites

The full repertoire of bed-time lullabies

We wrestle with them until they submit

We wrestle with them until they hit

They hit the hay

And don’t wake…

For a few hours at least.


Written by Ken Hume




Stand up!

Stand up woman

Stand up man.

Stand up tall

and stand up proud!

Stand up when you fall.

Stand up for yourself

And for all,

All the people, you love

And don’t be cowed

Stand up for your passions

That is allowed

Stand up against injustice

Against the demons inside

Don’t be pushed or shoved

Or swept along by the crowd

Stand up and speak up

Let your voice ring aloud

Stand up for something

For the longer you stall

The older you get

You’ll forget what you stand for

And won’t be able stand up at all.

YOU’RE NOT A WOMAN (Typical Man)

You’re not a woman

You’re just a man

You’re not a woman

So, you would not understand

The trauma and upheaval

Of a pregnancy, unplanned


How your emotions spiral

And your tummy expands


You’re not a woman

Of that this is true

You’re not a woman

You wouldn’t have a clue

Of the pain & the heartache

Of a pregnancy, stillborn


It’s impossible to take

Now you silently mourn

The loss


You’re not a woman

You’re just a man

A typical man

Responsible for all the wrongs

In this world

Trying to shut the strong woman down

Trying to keep her in her place


Nothing could be further from the truth

If you knew this man at all

As far from typical as you’ll get

For since the days of his youth

He has been in thrall

Of the strong woman in his life. Yet

He still gets abuse

When he tries to stand tall

And express his mindset


One day, woman

You’ll fall in love with me

A man. A “typical man”

You’ll give birth to me

The sexist man

Will you say the same things?

To him as you do now.

Will you wear the same wings?

That take you above us, proud.

Will you tar us all with the same brush

Paint us with the same colour

Be in such a hurry to hush

Us up and keep us down

Saying, jokingly.

“Ah, he’s just a man”


This man was a baby boy once

Born with a cord around his neck

Blue in the face, scary occurrence

Until his father, a man, checked

And asked the doctor to cut the chord

As this man was in distress

Just say the word

Before it all ends in a mess


I’m thankful today that one “typical man”

Gave another a chance at life

Cut the chord, gave a damn

And supported the ambitions of his wife

Bent over backwards to support each child

To follow their dreams and walk the road

Less travelled. So we’d be reconciled

With our true selves and never erode

Who we truly are. Thought us to smile


Written by & copyright to Ken Hume


Green Ribbon Day Mental Health Awareness 1



To sit down on this couch, I never thought

I’d be here, yet this strange life has brought

Me to this place, where I’ve become wrought

With these anxieties that have me caught

In the mousetrap of crippling past vocations

Haunting my mind and stilting aspirations

So here I find myself sharing my vexations

With a stranger, a long way off from elation


I sit down on this couch, not to think

But to carve open my head to a shrink

And let him see inside, how I just sink

Sometimes under life’s weight, the brink

Of fragility and battened up tears

Vulnerability and fattened up fears

That I try to hide but truth always rears

When nerves are fried, breakdown nears


To sit down on this couch, I now believe

Is the beginning of the long path to retrieve

The sense of balance and peace to conceive

Medicine for the silence and keys to relieve

The pressure that’s been building up inside

Gets less, the more I’m willing to confide

The more I’m willing to swallow my old pride

and learn the lessons that need to be applied









All for Democracy (As Long As You Agree)

We’re all for democracy

All for equality

As long as you agree

As long as you see

Things the same way as me

I’ll mock you for your beliefs

Belittle you on FB

Bully you until you retreat

From your point of view

For it’s better to be politically

Correct than morally true.

These days.

Standing on the Outside

Standing on the outside

On the brink, on the ledge

Looking in on the cool kids

Desperately looking for an edge

That’ll make you stand out. Fit in.

Hand out. Waiting for someone to pull you in

To the inner circle

Embrace you as one of their own.

Instead of clearing hurdles

So that you won’t end up alone


But they keep you at arm’s length

With no intention of letting you in

Not realising the extent

Of their jibes and sniggering,

Behind your back, has on you

The reasons are many

The reasons are few


Because you’ve got 4 eyes

Instead of two

You’re too fat or too small

Too thin or too tall

You laugh too much to nervousness

You’re not funny enough or you dress

Differently to the rest


You’re awkward; quiet and your shy

You pick your words before you reply

Leaves you bothered with a riot inside

As your continued efforts to try

And fit in. Standing on the outside



You’re a square peg in a round hole

Knocking the corners off your soul

Just to fit in to someone else’s role

Can wear you down & take its tole


Because what makes you stand out

What makes you unique

You want folk to hang out with

Then hang onto your mystique


Hang on to your real yourself

Even though you desire

Recognition from kindred spirits

Don’t lose it in the fire

Of social acceptance. Critics

Will burn you every time


Keep standing on the outside

Even though it might hurt

Though it might be lonely

Take pride in your self-worth

Take pride in your difference

Give fools a wide berth

Make silence your preference

While you walk upon this earth


Because approval is so fickle

It doesn’t last long

If people like you, that’s great

Don’t be fooled by the throng

Needn’t be your claim to fame

It needn’t be your song


Written by and copyright to Ken Hume


A Thousand Words

I am a thousand words left unsaid

Swirling, tumbling about in my head

Fiercely curious yet full of dread

Quietly furious at how closely wed


I am to my own company

Married to the thoughts in me

How I want the world to be

Inked reactions to what I see


To some it might seem like a futile caper

Others yet, like I’m playing it safer

Still, I do my talking on a piece of paper

For it allows me to be braver


And say the things I could never say

In person. It holds more sway

Because it struggles to translate

The message I yearn to convey


A thousand words on vacation

Stranded at the railway station

Of over wrought observation

Of paralyzing concentration


A thousand dreams, not out of the blue

Lie there in waiting to come true

Breaking at the seams, poking at you

To unlock the door and bring them into view


A thousand words

A thousand thoughts

A thousand birds

A thousand moths

All longing for the light

All waiting to take flight


A thousand wishes.

A thousand desires

A thousand dreams

A thousand fires

All longing to be lit

All waiting for the right fit


Written & copyright of Ken Hume


I Will Carry You

I will carry you on my shoulders

Though it fills your mum with fright

I will carry you on my shoulders

Because it fills you with great delight

I will carry you on my shoulders

Till you reach those lofty heights


I will carry you in my arms

Though my arms grow weak

I will carry you in my arms

Cradle you while you weep

I will carry you in my arms

Rock you till you fall asleep


I will stoop down to pick you up

Though my back cries out in pain

I will stoop down to lift you up

When you’ve fallen down again

I will carry you when the going’s tough

Through the pouring rain


I have carried you from the start

Before your feet 1st touched the ground

I will carry you when it’s dark

Until a light we’ve found

I will carry you always in my heart

Even when you’re not around

Stay at Home Dad

“I’m out of work

Yet I go to work everyday

It might seem berserk

That I might want to stay

At home

And mind my child

Change her nappy

Help make her smile


No, I’m not confused

I’m a stay at home dad

It’s not a joke or a ruse

Nor a passing fad

It’s something that I choose

“Stay at home dad

You’re not much use”

Is what the demons

Whisper. Much to their amuse-

-ment. “You’re no good…”

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