John Lennon: I Sat Belonely (In His Own Write, 1964)

a little poetry for now, this is my favourite poem by john lennon. among those who are probably no real die-hard beatles fans there are not many who actually know that john had written two book with surreal poetry in 1964 and 65. most of the stories and poems in these books feature a black and cynical humour you would just expect from lennon as he appeared later on, but interestingly this was written in the high time of beatlemania already, when he still was the sonny-boy, little-girls-hero in public.
as i really love and appreciate johns literary works, i will post some more of his poems and short stories in the future, to try to give an insight into this fascinating, fairly underrated personality.

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn’t see at all. I’m looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzle puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.
“Speak up, come forth, you ravel me,”
I potty menthol shout.
“I know you hiddy by this tree”.
But still she won’t come out.
Such softly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.
Then suddy on a little twig
Ich thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it’s might.
“I thought you were a lady”.
I giggle, – well I may,
To my surprise the lady,
got up – and flew away.