2nd June

Hi All

Last month’s subject was My Dream Job and before I tell you the winning entrants and put on some of our readers’ poems, here’s one I’ve written:


by Judy Karbritz

You need qualifications

For most occupations

Like A levels or a degree

This rule you can’t breach

If you want to teach

In a young child’s nursery


If you want to build

Have your City and Guild

Written down on your CV

Pass your exams first

Before you can nurse

Know all your anatomy


There are courses for drama

Or poet or farmer

All at university

To be an electrician

You need lots of tuition

For years you’d be a trainee


So what can you do

If this doesn’t suit you

What can the right answer be?

If you won’t work in a store

Then need I say more

Why don’t you become an MP

It’s been another bumper month for poetry and there are new names added each month to the list of entrants for both Harrow and Barnet Borough Times.  In fact this month for Harrow we have first time entrant Shreya Tanna who is our winning poet yet in Barnet, regular entrant Patricia J Tausz has won the for first time.  So all is equal in the competition, so why not give it a go.

Patricia’s winning entry:

Thinking About My Dream Job  

by Patricia J Tausz

What would I like to do as a dream job -

would I like to earn more than a few bob?

Maybe I could work as a telephonist

or even as a dentist's or chiropodist's receptionist

I could work as a special needs teacher

or perhaps as a verger or a preacher

Perhaps I could be the leader of a famous band

or even a treasure seeker digging for gold in the sand

Maybe I could work as a zoo keeper

or as a driver on the overnight London to Edinburgh sleeper

I could work as a pilot on a transatlantic plane

or perhaps as sales assistant in a shop just seemingly ordinary or mundane

Perhaps I could be a doctor, consultant or nurse

or even a poet laureate daily writing verse

The job I would like more than any other

would be being a loving and devoted wife and mother.

 and Shreya’s poem is:

My Dream Job - An Author

by Shreya Tanna

Writing each cursive letter my dreams on a page
Each thought racing, my author’s stage,
Blank sheets of paper like an unborn child
Empty, thoughtless, unable to smile
Lifeless, blank until I begin to write
And the ink flows from my heart and readers take flight

Through the twisted path of my mind, along Tragedy Lane,
Each crevasse of my soul, every alleyway of my pain,
Each character a pawn, dotted across the board
Unexpected plot twists interrupting their course,
Avoiding unpleasant villains, the king, queen and knight
Travelling with them, cry, laugh and fight,
First love, loss and heartbreaks bitter kiss
Drowning in the hellish flames of the Devil’s abyss

But as all good things must come to an end,
My story almost over, a conclusion around the bend
Each character is happy, the infants of my strife
And the blank sheet of paper is tattooed with life
The unborn babe is developed, wonderfully grown up,

In a book lies my passion, my dream job

Tal Gurevich has written a haiku:

My Dream Job

A storyteller - 

To tell the stories of those 

Who cannot tell theirs.

Raymond Turner has treated us to:

My Dream Job

From the South Pacific

To shores fantastic

Dreams wash around

Like proverbial plastic.

But it needn’t be

This way for you

Protect your dream

So it comes true.

Polish your dream

Make it sparkle

As did the lovely

Miss Meghan Markle.

Regular entrant, Kusum Hars, submitted this poem:

MY DREAM JOB - A Teacher

She sat on the chair elegant and tall, surrounded by us all

All pair of eyes on her listening to her soothing call

She made us feel secure and comfortable and hence

She was our world and enthused us with confidence

The image of her stayed with me as I grew up

More and more I wanted to be like her and do what she did

That is when the dream to be a teacher was born within me.

Teenage years my dad showed me another dream

Of being a doctor and serving  in the main stream

But that could not materialise for lack of funds

So back again trying to chase the childhood dream.

The day arrived when I stood where my idol had been

Chalk in hand I looked to see thirty pair of eyes

Eagerly watching me, to lead them on to the future skies

It was like in a dream, I responsible for shaping the minds

Of these youngsters, as mine was shaped before in kind

I tread carefully treating each mind like a flower, sent

To me, to open to the world  as nnsecure and confident

And that dream lasted more than three decades, now left behind

When I had the honour of shaping numerous such minds.

Howard Lambe, who has read poetry at the regular Open Mic events I present, has written:

My Dream Job

Daydreaming at my desk I wondered what would be my dream job

It must be as easy I thought as falling off a log

Something interesting and hopefully well paid

That I would enjoy and perhaps a career make

A disc jockey or writer would do

Or maybe on a yacht as part of the crew

Blissfully sailing around the Med.

Enjoying the sun and being well fed 

Perhaps even managing a club or bar

But that would probably be a step too far

As in retrospect the thought of working late at night

Doesn't appeal to my idea of having a good life

There must be out there a dream job for me

Which would suit my needs and make me happy

Maybe on the Council or even an M.P

But that sounds harder than cutting down a tree 

So what would my dream job be?

I'll think about it over a nice hot cup of tea

But for now I'll just let it keep

And look for inspiration when I've had a good sleep

Addiction or My Dream Job is by talented poet, Ian Herne

I eat sugar, I drink tea,

All that I love, all that is me.

But the real drug of favour, the real desire,

Is to write all day with a burning fire.

In my belly is a feeling, I need to find,

to clear like cupboards my capacious mind.

Then all the shadows can be free

This addiction that is telling me.

I could get locked up for it, it

drives me mad, it incarcerates

my hand, constrains my life.

And when I sleep one thousand

stories come from mousy cracks.

Some would say I issue hyperbole

for the mouth of hacks.

But I don't care, it's better than silence.

It wakes me up and fills the void.

Sometimes I hear myself cry.

But I need to do it, this addiction that is

About making stuff up.

Babs Lee, a recent JPS member, has written:


I don't dream of being a movie star
Or having a job with lots of money to buy a big car
I don't dream of being a lawyer or a pilot flying in the sky
I don't dream of working in an office block which is much too high
I don't dream of being on telly as a newsreader on war
I don't dream of being in a charity but would like to help the poor

But there somewhere deep in me
 Who wants  to go and help animals to roam free
To be with lions, and elephants too
And save them from extinction
That's what I want to do
To work on a game reserve in Africa , even in the heat
To help baby orphan cubs find their feet
To save the tusks
From poachers out there at dusk

And so i wonder what it would be like
To live in a tent and watch the moonlight
Where all around me are only the wild
This has been my dream job since I was a child. 

Helen Cynthia Feldman who attends my workshops has written:


There was one career I hoped to make mine

on finishing work on my manuscripts

A quite romantic hope:

to be a queen of one kind that no woman has been yet

in this land’s most exclusive of professions,

with only four juniors, six other members

and three seniors, a queen at or of arms

for heraldry would just have suited me

as a medievalist and a researcher

and having more taste that ability artistically

but it was not to be

for each herald must have a coat of arms

and one qualifies for a grant of arms

if attested as of good character

and I was, after an unjust expulsion,

branded an outcast from the very outcasts

and although I have now attained acceptance

the club that gave the ban has been closed down

it is too late for it to be revoked


Lisa Cohen is a lady who has lots of entertaining stories about her life.  This particular poem was another treat:


The publisher  was shaking his head while scanning my short CV
"I'm not looking for extra staff. But, sell the  Gift Guide. Then, we'll see.
Six weeks commitments.  Market traders are tough nuts to crack.  
Go for it.  Good luck. Come and see me when you're back"

The Luton Herald,  boasted free distribution  through every door.
A new concept.  Must catch on. Can't fail. Discounts galore
In reality. Bundles were found in fields and  skips. Widely scattered
"Disgusted from Luton"  cancelled.  After all,  reliable delivery, mattered

Circulation worries, solved. Targets hit. Business thrived. Then, a unique idea
I suggested  regular feminine feature pages. My nerves jumped in fear.
Given total control, and with limited knowledge. This vain, old  sinner
Proudly produced .  "FOR WOMEN TODAY".  A dream job winner

Important issues raised. Letters poured in. First chaos. Then order
And the perks.  Interviews.  Chats on Beds Radio. Meeting Estée Lauder.
Women 's Refuge. Health Clinics.  Editorials. Books. Fetes and Fashion.
Empowering  distressed women and giving them a voice. My passion.

In 1990, "For Women Today" closed it's pages, leaving an empty hole
Through the joy of words, loyal friendships filled  my heart and soul.
Ladies, are we still controlled today.?  Don't go gently into the night
Stand firm.  Be counted.  Like the Suffragettes. We've earned the right.

J D Milaric wrote the following poem with great passion:


It’s with great regret

That we cannot, yet

Announce the last breath

And consequent, death

Of the concept itself which is heinous

And it’s proponents, who’re ubiquitous

For it would be my dream job

To  announce the death of



As the chosen one, I’d work with such gusto

To make sure that people  worldwide, know

About its final demise

Alas, I can only fantasize

That I have such a job, for the moment

One that would give me such fulfilment

I hope that the time will come

When I can announce “Job done”

But until then, I’ll just dream on

Jeff Edmunds wrote the following poem with great humour:

My Dream Job by Jeff Edmunds

This is an easy choice. A simple job for a simple person. A job

where I don’t have to think hard or reason

A job that doesn’t involve anything strenuous or demanding

Wait a minute! The answer is coming. Let me keep you guessing

It’s a job that keeps me horizontal, except that I don’t like being

too flat. It doesn’t involve any use of implements

It’s employment that requires no firm stance

It could involve some romance. That would depend on circumstance

Would this work be tiring?

Yes, I suppose, you might say, but I might catch up on my reading,

when I’m not turning each way

There’s no danger of being caught sleeping on the job. In fact, it

would be positively encouraged

How much would somebody pay me for turning in a good result and

reporting my findings succinctly?

Because my dream job really is just that. Have you guessed it yet?

I want work testing mattresses for employment..!

I hope you enjoyed those poems which were just a few which were submitted for last month’s competition.

Next month the subject will be Modern Technology - so lots of emails please.

Be well and have some fun writing poetry.