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Gardening

2011-04-08T08:43:00.000-07:00

An Incredible Gardener…
Jim was a gardener incredible
With anything green, brown and edible
He knew what was brewing
Knew what he was doing
With seeds, pods and bulbs that were beddable.
By some clever means
And by fiddling their genes
With a switch of their cellular systems
He induced brand new features
Into vegetable creatures
- Hang on just a mo’ and I’ll list ‘em.
There were turnips with eyes
Of an overweight size
And carrots with ears made for listening
And a leek that would speak
Three times every week
And a cabbage that couldn’t stop whistling.
Soon his name achieved fame
And to world-wide acclaim
His peers could do nothing but gape
For against all the Regs
All his plants sprouted legs
And he soon had a marrow escape.

Colonel Blippington

2010-11-30T01:54:00.000-08:00

Back again - where have I been? Nowhere - just resting I suppose -

Colonel Blippington

Colonel Blippington Hyphen Lefarge
Late out of India, Ex of the Raj,
Nursing his dislike and incredible ire
For any enemy of the British Empire,
And being a most cunning weaver of plots,
A man, who was used to calling the shots,
Awaited his moment, laid well his scheme
To strike against all who spoke ill of the Queen.
He planned for all traitors a terrible fate
All the tortures of hell to encapsulate -
He invited them out, as his guest they would dine.
He plied them with caviar, food and fine wine
And they willingly went to his well-chosen venue
Not knowing strychnine would be on their menu.

The Actor

2010-09-13T09:59:00.001-07:00

With a flourish of my cloak
I tell a funny joke –
I may appear dishevelled
But with talent I’m bedevilled -
For though I seem a clown,
I’m an Actor of renown -
Every role that I discharge
Is with genius - writ large.
I can play Shakespeare or Pinter
An Admiral or Printer,
A Pauper, King or Prince
Gay Courtiers who mince
And every character I’m sold on
Wins awards - with lots of gold on.

Gladioli and slugs

2010-09-08T07:59:00.001-07:00

I had some gladioli that grew up from the sod
Horticulturally logical, I’d say.
Yes they grew up from the soil
And I’m glad I didn’t toil
Cos the slugs came up and gobbled them away!

Gravity

2010-09-03T22:44:00.000-07:00

Gravity's a useful thing
It keeps us on the ground
But our pants need belts and braces
To stop them falling down.

Little Miss Muffett

2010-09-02T13:22:00.001-07:00

There was a young lady named Muffett
Whose life was so tough she’d to rough it
When a spider came by
She was making a pie
So she used that poor spider to stuff it

Young Man

2010-08-13T12:17:00.001-07:00

Young Man from West Shotton

There was a young man from West Shotton
Who’d a girl whom he really was hot on
Said she “All your kisses
Won’t make me your Missus
I’ve told you before that it’s not on!”

What Goes In First?

2010-08-06T04:12:00.001-07:00

What goes in the cup first?
The milk or the tea?
It’s a mystery to me –
But I don’t care what goes in first –
I just drink tea to quench my thirst –
And I find
To my mind
It doesn’t matter one iota -
I still drink tea beyond my quota.

Vasco Pyjamas

2010-08-05T07:43:00.000-07:00

Words – June 2010.

Cheese and Vasco Da Gama

‘Tis said that Vasco de Gama
As well as sailing on the seas
Was a great success at making cheese.
An Architect of cheese was he
Formulating cheese with glee.

As a lad he eschewed toys
And unlike all the other boys
Watched the farmer plough his plough
Sought out the milk-maid and her cow
And unlike his sisters and his brudders
Became obsessed with milk and udders,
So that his feet were always turning
Towards the sea and cheese a-churning;

He studied cheese from near and far
All shapes and sizes, triangular
Rounds and oblongs, spheres and cubes
Stretched out to cylinders and tubes
A technique took from Eric Thrower
A neighbour and a great glassblower.

For years the two worked as a team
Towards the glass and cheeseman’s dream
Fashioning, with greatest ease,
Shakespeare - out of glass and cheese –
And next to him they did John Bunyan –
Then ate them both, with a pickled onion!

Totally absurd

2010-08-03T23:18:00.000-07:00

It’s totally absurd
I’ve quite forgot the words!
Once upon a time
I could’ve put them into rhyme
But now – I know it’s rotten -
It’s a skill that I’ve forgotten!

On your toes...

2010-08-02T09:52:00.001-07:00

Why, I ask, do you suppose
That on his feet a man has toes?
Is it because the way he stands
They would look silly on his hands?

2010-08-01T02:09:00.001-07:00

I buy my shares when the market is Up

And sell them again when it’s down

I’ll never get rich

On this cyclical pitch

But my Broker’s the richest in town!

Silly Milly

2010-07-31T10:27:00.001-07:00

Silly little Milly
Thought she’d lost her little Willy
Then she found him at the Vicar’s
Having tea in cami-knickers.
Said Milly very angrily
You should not be having tea
At the Vicar’s wearing knickers
At the age of 43!
Unless of course the Vicar
Is the worse for drinking liqueur
In which case wearing knickers
Doesn’t make you quite as sick as
The liqueur-drinking Vicar -
Who should be drinking tea.

Query the Big Bang

2010-07-31T02:20:00.000-07:00

I’ve a little query
On the Big Bang Theory -
I just cannot get the hang
Of what was there before the bang!

The Sauce fights back - OK!

2010-07-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

Sauce

SAUCE

There’s evil things in bottles of sauce
They communicate by means of Morse –
They send out signals ‘dot dash dot’
Which means “wake up you dozy lot
There’s someone ‘ere who wants to scoff us -
Take action quick to get ‘em off us -
So when they shake us all about
The sauce gets stuck and won’t come out!
They’ll poke it hard with spoon and stick –
We’ll make it glutinous and thick –
They’ll get all angry, swear and shout
We’ll make it so it won’t come out!
Until, from desperation reeling
They’ll shake it up - and spray the ceiling…

Back again

2010-07-29T04:32:00.000-07:00

A well-practised reincarnator
Was squashed by an earth excavator
Just after he died
He sat up and cried
“I'm off - but I'll see you all later!”

Reincarnator2

2010-07-27T06:06:00.000-07:00

A reincarnator from Slough
To live on a farm made a vow
But the last time he died
He couldn’t decide
To come back as a pig or a cow!

Reincarnator 1

2010-07-22T04:25:00.001-07:00

There was an Alchemist from Hythe
Who discovered the secret of Life
He was so very clever
He’ll live on forever
So there’s STILL that Alchemist from Hythe.

Queen Nefertitti

2010-07-20T10:32:00.001-07:00

QUEEN NEFERTITTI

Queen Neferttiti was beautiful, witty
Egypt’s best tumble they say
But when she got mummified
She lost all her chummy side
Her charms they all crumbled away.

She made no apology
Towards Egyptology
The Pharaoh just loved all her kinks –
Perhaps her propensity
To sex with intensity
Put the smile on the face of the Sphinx.

Packaging...

2010-07-19T11:08:00.001-07:00

PACKAGING
By
Ray Lawrence (2.05)

Remember those days, those halcyon days
When you bought anything you would take it away
In a bag.
In a bag, a common or garden, ordinary, uncomplicated bag.
And getting that thing, that thing that you’d bought
That thing that you’d wanted, that thing that you’d sought
That thing that you’d hunted the shops for
That thing that you’d pulled out the stops for -
Getting it out of the bag
Was simple and easy with never a snag;
You’d put your hand in, just a moment went by
Just a fleeting of seconds, a twinkling of eye
And the thing that you’d bought was there in your hand
Ready to use - and the feeling was grand!

But nowadays try
To get anything, anything that you buy,
Just in a bag, in a bag by itself,
Just a common or garden, ordinary bag
With no extra wrappings nor plastics nor tags
Nor bright coloured papers, nor unwanted swags -
You’d be disappointed for nowadays it seems
The makers of goods, the producers of ‘things’
Have conspired against you, have plotted and schemed,
To wrap everything in a manifold way
To stop you from using it, keep you at bay -
They won’t let you in to the things that you’ve bought
And watching you try to get in is their sport.
They’ve introduced packets with ‘easy-pull’ tags
That you can’t find the end of – that’s one of the snags
And medicine bottles with childproof stoppers
That open for kids, but not Mamas nor Poppas -
Then there’s flat plastic packets that tell you ‘tear here’
And vacuum packed wrappers and pull-tabs for beer –
And you squeeze and you pull and they suddenly squirt
All over your suit and your very best shirt.
Yes - All kinds of packaging has been devised
With papers and wrappings to cross both your eyes –
How to break into it? – that is the question –
Without getting stressed and acute indigestion –
And although it’s a small thing that won’t change your life
You squeeze it and tease it
And grip it and rip it
And thump it and bump it
And knock it and sock it
And whack it and crack it –
And in the end attack it - with a knife.

Old Person From Sale

2010-07-18T06:40:00.000-07:00

There was an old person from Sale
Who went off to live in a whale
He explained as he went
“I won’t pay any rent
For a two-bedroomed flat near the tail.”

An Old Man of Malaysia

2010-07-15T23:29:00.000-07:00

There was an old man of Malaysia
You could never meet anyone crazier
He stood on his head
By the side of his bed
And toasted his toes on a brazier.

Dr Hobb and the unemployed (strictly non-PC)

2010-07-15T02:41:00.000-07:00

Dr Hobb and the Unemployed

Now if you’re so unfortunate as to be without a job
Don’t think that you are useless – oh dear no! –
For I know a transplant surgeon by the name of Dr Hobb
Who could use you from your head down to your toe.
So if you’re fit and healthy and your parts are all in place
And they haven’t suffered too much wear and tear
Go along and see him and tell him of your case
And bit by bit he’ll fit you in somewhere.
For Dr Hobb believes it’s disastrous, a crime
To waste the unemployed as you will see
Why not divide them up, just a little at a time
And make them do a job for two or three.
To take a person whole he finds is very very rare
But he can use you piece by piece or part by part
So if by any chance you’ve an organ you can spare
He would gladly take your kidney or your heart.
He can always use a fibula, a collar bone or hip
An ear, an eye, a nostril from a nose
Which on some unlucky patients he’ll join up to their lips
And on others to their rectum or their toes.
If you’ve got a duodenum that is glowing health and strength
Or a humerus, a clavicle or lung,
Or if you’ve got no stomach for intestines of great length
Dr Hobb will find a place they can be hung.
So Dr Hobb can use you in a hundred different ways
The National Health in you a boon has found
Then if anybody asks you how you spend your time these days
You can tell them that you spread yourself around.

Man From Mars

2010-07-14T11:12:00.000-07:00

Man From Mars

I’d like to be a man from Mars
With sixteen arms and legs
With a dozen eyes and sixteen thighs
And living on raw eggs.
Being a bloomin’ oomin bein’
Really ain’t much fun
A Man from Mars and other stars
Does things that just ain’t done.
Us on the ground that’s going round
The sun that’s bloomin’ hot
We’d like to race about in space
We wouldn’t give a jot!
The satellites and meteorites
The rocket ships with mice in
The apes and men with oxygen
They live a life with spice in!

Judge Grudge

2010-07-12T04:21:00.000-07:00

JUDGE GRUDGE

When you have a grudge
Against a Judge
And want the satisfaction
Of taking legal action
Where can you find a lawyer
Who'll act for yer?

Jogger

2010-07-04T02:25:00.000-07:00

Just to show that exercise is not good for you!

JOGGER

A jogger from McMurdo Sound
Got fed up with jogging around
So he ran on the spot
‘Til his feet grew so hot
That he burned himself into the ground.

Being retired

2010-07-03T03:43:00.000-07:00

I’ve recently retired, given work the final shove
And I’ve found that doing nothing just fits me like a glove.
I sit and watch the world go by, that’s good enough for me
And for my daily exercise I lift a cup of tea.

My family, they can’t believe I’m happy doing that
They say I’ll get fed up with life, they say that I’ll get fat,
They say that I must exercise and run ten miles a day
But I’m content with doing nowt – I don’t care what they say!

Geraniums

2010-07-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

Geraniums

He loved flowers with interesting aromas.
Some made him fall into comas
But others, like the geranium,
Drove him totally insanium.

Flea...from what I do not know...

2010-06-29T21:43:00.000-07:00

FLEA

I wish I was a little flea
A little flea was me.
I’d climb around the teapot
And then drop in for tea.
I’d walk around the tabletop
Then onto the floor I’d drop
I’d bounce and flounce with every ounce
And jump and skip and hop
I’d be about the mostest, the cleverest of fleas,
I’d nip and sting my hostess as often as I please.
I’d crawl in under the pantry door
And bite just everything I saw
And be about the happiest, the snappiest of fleas.

Flaming Boots

2010-06-28T13:31:00.000-07:00

Flaming Boots

Creepy, crawly little things
With evil eyes and flapping wings
Fly down my chimney every night
And try to set my boots alight.

Amelia Bloomer

2010-06-27T22:28:00.000-07:00

Amelia Bloomer

There was a rumour
Amelia Bloomer
Was cycling in clothes indiscreet
Down the length of her thigh
Visible to the eye
Was that garment that covered her seat!

Molly

2010-06-27T00:04:00.000-07:00

Molly...

Molly liked her fish with batter
Piled high upon her platter
People told her she’d get fatter -
Molly said it didn’t matter!

Blood test...?

2010-06-26T08:00:00.001-07:00

Count Dracula out for the day
Was asked which type blood was OK,
He replied “I don’t know
Type “A” or type “O”
But type “A” has a better bouquet!

Sorry for the long break - very busy what with one thing and another!...

2010-06-24T06:14:00.000-07:00

ODE TO MY CREDITORS.
Dear Mr.Chop the Butcher
It fills me with remorse
I would have paid your bill at once
If the beef had not been horse
And your sausages and pies
Were like SOMETHING in disguise
But WHAT exactly, Mr. Chop
I failed to recognise.
Yes, I would have paid your bill
Very promptly, be assured,
If all the lamb had not been RAM
And the bacon had been cured.
Dear Mr. Lodge, the landlord,
It hurts to tell the truth
I would have paid the rent at once
If the house had had a roof
And if there had been windows
With glass, do you suppose
I would complain about the pain
Rheumatic in my toes?
Yes, I would have paid your bill
Just as quickly as a shot
If the damp had not been rising
Through the floorboards - with dry rot.

Dear Mr.Therm, the builder, it vexes, honour bright,
Of course I'd pay your bill at once if the gas would only light.
With stupidity quite crass
You've mixed water up with gas
So in the bath now I must cook
And in the cooker bath

- Yes, I would have paid the piper
If the pipes had been correct
If the load did not explode
And my house had not been wrecked!
Dear Mr Fonn, the 'phone man I wish to "but no buts"
I would have paid your bill at once if my line had not been cut.
And that stupid little bird Named; "Buzby" I have heard
Makes tweeting noises down the line at almost every word
Yes I would have paid your bill with not a moment lost
If all my numbers were not wrong and all my lines not crossed!

A jumble of words

2010-06-09T00:41:00.000-07:00

Peanuts, Sleep, Ventriloquist,
Liquorice, Minibus, Psychiatrist
A meaningless jumble of words said at random
They symbolised nothing when I first scanned ‘em
But since I’ve been thinking about them a lot
They’re a jumble of words that’ll not be forgot.

A Fiendish Mouse...

2010-06-08T09:47:00.001-07:00

A fiendish Mouse (he’s Chinese)
Built some steps into space if you please
He said “before noon
I shall be on the Moon
Stuffing myself with fine cheese!”

Fireworks

2010-05-15T01:00:00.000-07:00

FIREWORKS

Little Catherine Wheeler loved fireworks and set
Herself to making fireworks much bigger than you get
In shops and supermarkets and pyrotechnic stores -
She wanted them much louder, with flashes, bangs and roars.
Her ma and pa they warned her “Catherine take care
You know you’re very careless, so of Fireworks beware!”
But Catherine laughed and gathered all the bangers she could find
The rockets and the “whooshers,” fireworks of every kind
Until she’d built the biggest firework that you could get
A rocket that was twice the size of a boeing Jumbo jet.
She lit the blue touch paper and - maybe for a dare -
She stood too close to watch it – and it caught her by the hair.
She went up with her rocket and I think that sometime soon
Little Catherine Wheeler will be half way to the moon!

I'm adamant I think...

2010-05-14T14:14:00.000-07:00

There can be no doubt about it, I’m adamant - I think -
That I saw the Loch Ness Monster, very vague, but quite distinct.
He had big rolling eyes and a set of wicked teeth
He was there down in the loch – Or at least that’s my belief.
His body was all green - and lumpy with red blots -
Though he may have been dark blue and those lumps, perhaps, were spots.
He was shaped just like a serpent and he chased me with a roar –
At least I think he chased me - I cannot be too sure.
Yes! There is no doubt about it, I’m positive – I think –
That I saw the Loch Ness Monster - but it might have been the drink!

It could be Verse...

2010-05-13T04:07:00.000-07:00

I've just brought out a new book of comic verse - "It Could Be Verse", produced and printed on behalf of Macmillan Cancer Support(e-mail Rebecca at rstaden@macmillan.org.uk)- £4.99 each, plus postage if applicable. Hope you enjoy it.

In the meantime, another poem - this one really written for the end of the noughties...which is now a few months away...

FAREWELL NOUGHTIES

The Noughty decade’s deathly knell
Is ringing out – we say “Farewell!
We’re looking to the decade new
We didn’t think a lot of you!”
“How so?” The decade gives reply
“We did our best to satisfy.
You may complain and grump and curse
But - we could’ve been a whole lot worse!”

“A whole lot worse?” is our retort
“On history’s face you’ve been a wart!
Each year new disasters swarming
With floods and rains and global warming
Tsunamis, wars and hurricanes,
Droughts and floods, persistent rains,
For thirteen years we have been haunted
By Politicians no-one wanted -
MPs' expenses, Bankers’ greed,
Taxes soaring, with no heed
To real or Economic need
Instead they followed Potter’s creed
Used Magic, and a witch’s broom
To sweep away all bust and boom.
Ha!

Then came the Credit Crunch, Swine flu’
Topped off by Health and Safety Crew –
You mustn’t light a fag or smoke
In Public buildings, and your jokes
Must have no hint of Race, Creed or Sect
Must be Politically Correct
And - We’ve heard tell, there’s been a rumour
Jokes must be free of fun and humour.
And Art you’ve made us all despise,
With unmade beds and Turner Prize.
And where is Wedgewood? – alas not Benn –
And Woolworths, we’ll not see again –
Lehman Brothers is no more
House prices fell straight through the floor;
Stocks and Shares made dreadful Trade-offs
And billions more made off with Madoff..
That’s not to mention nine eleven -
So - We’ve not exactly been in heaven!”

“Ooooh! Now look at you
You always take the gloomy view”
The decade says. “Just look at all the progress made –
During my reign, this last decade -
You’ve Internet, Ipods, MP3s
New medicines to fight disease
New scientific methods tapped
The Human Genome cracked and mapped
Stem Cells to grow replacement limbs,
Mobile phones with massive SIMs
And look at all the new computers
Worldwide Broadband, wireless routers –
Blackberries conquer time and space
E-mails round the world do race
CCTV is everywhere
You cannot linger, stand or stare
You can’t afford the smallest boob
For fear you’ll feature on You Tube!
Bebo, Facebook, Myspace,Twitter -
I think I’ve made your World much Fitter!”

But fit for what? We cannot see
We’re drowning in technology –
HTTP, HTML,
HD Blueray Digital,
M One Hundred HDPRO,
ATK One Double ‘O’
Dreamed up by Geeks, Computer Nerds
Who cannot cope with simple words -
They’re using Acronyms too much
To us it’s so much Double Dutch –
But worst of all, what makes us weep
Is everything must have its bleep.
Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, Bleep! Bleep!
We cannot think, we cannot sleep –
Where e’re we go it’s “bleep”.
Reversing trucks, X-Rays for bones,
ATMs and mobile phones
Dishwashers, Dryers, wash machines
Freezers and Computer screens –
All keeping us from blessed sleep –
Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!

And so you Noughties as you fade
And make way for the next decade
The Twenty Tens that soon will start
Grant us a wish straight from the heart
Give us, please, no nerds or geeks –

That Nagging Feeling

2010-05-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

There’s a mediaeval tavern in the centre of the town
Where the Publican he used to be a clown
But he left that job he'd chosen
When he married Sadie Rosen
And ever since his face has worn a frown.

When he met her she was serving
From behind a bar in Durban
And the fellows they came flocking to her bar
She dispensed real beer and coffee
From her jugs both full and frothy
With a taste of Eastern Promise - Oo-la-la!

In all weathers, hot or freezing
Sadie had a way of pleasing -
All her customers were satisfied as hell
Her Pyms were full and fruity
Apples, grapes, a pear of beauty
And served with Pomegranate seeds as well.

Our Clown, whose name was Solly
Wooed Sadie and felt jolly
When she said she’d plight her troth with him and wed
And with all her loving touches
He cried out and called for crutches
When he tried to get from off their marriage bed!

But his joy was short and snappy
Solly ended far from happy
For he hadn’t really known the girl he'd wed –
She was something of a tartar
And he near became a martyr
Wishing that he wasn’t wed, but dead.

For Sadie was a wild shrew
Her words of praise were very few
Every sentence that she uttered was a nag
In a voice so shrill and strident
Like a Devil with a Trident
She nagged and nagged and nagged and nagged and nagged.

“You’re still acting like a clown
See that toilet seat stays down
Don’t put wet spoons in the sugar
Oi! You’re driving me meshugga -
Don’t get finger marks on toaster
Every cup must have a coaster
When you put it on the table
Read the date that’s on the label!
Oi! You always were a messer
And you're such a greedy fresser!
You eat just like a pig -
You’ve got gravy in you're wig
Oi! You're such a useless jerk
Never done a real day's work…
Nag nag nag nag nag nag nag nag nag nag!”

Solly rued the day he’d got her –
And finally he shot her
But even as her lifeblood flowed away
She nagged “You stupid Mug
Just look at our best rug
Why didn’t you just poison my glass of Beaujolais?”

The President's Cup of Tea...

2010-05-06T03:48:00.000-07:00

Said Mother “where’s the teapot?
You must have moved the teapot –
We must have the teapot
For the President’s coming to tea.”

Said Father “Look at me not
I haven’t moved the teapot –
Would I have moved the teapot
With the President coming to tea?”

Said Mother “where’s the skimmed milk?
You must have seen the skimmed milk
You know we need the skimmed milk –
To put in the President’s tea.”

Said Father “Why the drama?
Don’t ask me - ask the farmer
He supplied the skimmed milk
To put in the President’s tea.”

Said Mother “Where’s the sweetener?
What have you done with the sweetener?
You know we’ll need the sweetener
To sweeten the President’s tea.”

Said Father – “I ain’t moved the teapot
Nor the milk as you will see -
Nor did I move the sweetener –
For the President’s cup of tea -
Anyway, it’s not logical
To keep on asking me -
For I never never never make the tea!”

There was a young man...

2010-05-05T01:25:00.000-07:00

There was a young man from Padua

Who decided to live in a sewer

He felt quite elite

Living under the street

But his friends became fewer and fewer.

(Why does it always have to be a young man or woman?)

A Young Lady From Wembley

2010-05-04T08:25:00.000-07:00

This is nothing to do with football!./...

There was a Young Lady from Wembley
Whose knees were all shaky and trembly
Her Physician declared
They cannot be repaired
Cos they missed some parts out in assembly.”

Choco the clown

2010-04-29T04:12:00.000-07:00

CHOCO THE CLOWN

Choco was a merry clown
His face had never seen a frown–
If he’d one fault it was to make
Little dolls of chocolate cake
With celebration and elation
He fashioned dolls of his relations
Uncle, Aunt or second cousin
He made and ate them by the dozen
A practise many thought, it seems,
Peculiar in the extremes –

His wife complained – did harsh words utter –
“It’s plain that you’re a fruit and nutter!
What you do – why! It’s just black magic
The consequences could be tragic!”
A message filled with negatives
“You cannot eat your relatives!
Desist Sir! Or without remorse,
I’ll surely file for divorce!”

“Cast not the first of stones,” cried he
“It surely mars my galaxy
For you love chocolate beings for tea!
You like them just as much as me!
You like, again it must be said
To chew on men of gingerbread
And please don’t tell me any porkies
I’ve seen you chomping into Yorkies.
And I suspect that is not all
You are inclined to Cannibal!
There is no fire without smoke
You love to eat my chocolate folk!
If you don’t stop ‘twill be a blunder
Our lawyers will split us asunder!”

Just one day later he’d just cause
To call on his solicitors -
For on that morning he had caught her
Gobbling up the blacksmith’s daughter!

Don't miss out on your greens!

2010-04-26T06:48:00.000-07:00

It had to happen - Fagin's gone GREEN!....

I’m reviewing my green equation
Is my carbon footprint sending me to hell?
I hear the cry “abomination!”
When I drive my car on BP, Jet or Shell.
Bus drivers could they drive for me?
And keep the world alive for me?
Be waiting in the street for me?
And always keep a seat for me?
To make the journey sweet for me
And ease my aching feet for me?
I think I’d better think it out again!

The bus is too slow, anyway,
It’s too far to go, anyway
The best way of saving our world
With so many to feed?
Will wave power and windmills on beaches –
Really succeed?

I’m reviewing my habitation
Is my rubbish bin for garbage or for what?
Must I fear the visitation
Of the Garbage police inspecting what I’ve got?
Will the taxman make his tracks for me?
Take a heavy tax from me?
And carry it in sacks from me?
Be making such a stack from me
And taking such a whack from me
Oy! Things are looking black for me!
I think I’d better think it out again!

I’m no good being green, anyway
It isn’t my scene, anyway
It’s not that I’m selfish and really I don’t give a damn
I just want to go on with my life just the way that I am!
Noo? Don’t you?

I’m reviewing my habitation
Is my central heating using too much juice?
Do I hear the accusation
That too much heat is going through my roof?
So I must a magician be?
To cut my electricity?
Recycle glass and plant a tree –
A greener busy bee that’s me!
And all this for posterity -
What is it that they want from me?
I think I’d better think it out again.

Can I do any good, anyway?
If I do what I should, anyway?
Can I do any more for ‘em? – any more about seeing it through?
Cos I am just me and I don’t know what to do!
Noo? Do you?

A tale of Hetty

2010-04-22T04:09:00.000-07:00

Big Hetty, a lady truck driver,
The fastest that ever you saw
Slipped out of her gear for a fiver
Went from red light to green for a score.
Her boy friend he loved his spaghetti
Swimming in Bolognese sauce
He was French, so that clever young Hetty
Made mincemeat from haunch of a horse.
She’d tried it one-day using kipper,
He’d reacted at once to the taste
It was like he’d become Jack the Ripper
And he threatened to rip off her face –
“My spaghetti is ruined!” he bellowed
Like an urban guerrilla unhinged
Then he burped and he smiled and he mellowed
And since then on kipper he’s binged!

It's simple Dr frankenstein

2010-04-20T02:22:00.001-07:00

It’s simple, said Dr Frankenstein,
I can see his picture now,
My monster will have spectacles
And thick-ridged beetle brows.
He’ll look like a relation
A bit like Uncle Ned
With cousin Cyril’s torso
And Aunty Susan’s head.
Now all I need is a thunderstorm
With massive lightning surges
My monster then will spring to life
With hot primeval urges.
He’ll make a film, a play, a book
And headlines on the news
And when he’s finished doing that
I’ll take him on a cruise.

Lady Godiva

2010-04-19T03:38:00.000-07:00

A famous horse-rider
Was Lady Godiva
She rode through the streets in the buff
Of her husband Elfric
She was fed up and sick -
‘Til one day she’d just had enough -
“I can’t take it no more
You keep taxing the poor –
You strut and you brag and you Lord it –
You put up their rent
By four times every Lent -
Can’t you see that they cannot afford it?–
It’s a racket that you can’t resist –
You just love coins and money
And it just isn’t funny!” -
He replied “I’m a Numismatist!
Coins send me reeling –
I just love that feeling –
Of fingering shillings and sheckles
Just touching the metal
Puts me in fine fettle
And the smell of it brings out my freckles.
I’m smitten by coins of all nations
Taxing the poor
Brings me coins – and what’s more –
It’s my dream – it’s my one contemplation.”
Then to her annoyance he stated
He suddenly felt so elated -
He’d rather have coins
Than his wife on his loins!
He was perfectly willing
To sell her for a shilling -
Which as everyone knows
Undoubtedly shows
Just how lowly that poor “lass-he rated”!

70 going on 50

2010-04-14T23:14:00.000-07:00

Here's a little ditty I wrote for a friend - set to the melody of "16 going on 17"...

I have lived my life at a frantic speed
And still I want to fight on
There are many things that I still need
That I have set my sights on -

I am seventy going on fifty
Baby, I won’t slow down
I’m still nifty, living life swiftly
Wanting to paint the town.
I am seventy going on fifty
Doing things at a run
Three score and ten is time to play tennis
Living is lots of fun –
Totally unprepared am I to take a lesser role
Vigorous, strong and firm am I
To show I’m in control!
I don’t need anyone older and wiser
Helping me to get through -
I am seventy going on fifty
I know just what to do!

I am seventy going on fifty
Working for charity
Acting, producing, maybe seducing
There’s no disparity!
I am seventy going on fifty
Bursting with energy
Yes I can do this – on my to do list
No signs of lethargy.
Totally unprepared am I to stop and give it up
I’m feeling fine so bring out the wine ho!
Fill up and lift the cup –
I don’t need anyone older and wiser
Helping me to get through -
I am seventy going on fifty
I know just what to do!

A pretty young thing...

2010-04-13T06:46:00.000-07:00

Said a pretty young thing from Belgravia
“I know what the boys in the Navy are
You know you’ve been caught
When you’re listing to port
And from then on it’s all misbehavi-are!”

Accommodation...

2010-04-11T11:15:00.000-07:00

The William Pitts
Stayed at the Ritz,
But Benjamin Franklin
Made do with bed and breakfast in Shanklin.

Biggles giggles

2010-04-06T06:28:00.000-07:00

Squadron Leader Biggles
Couldn’t stop the giggles
Especially when General Custer
Tickled him with a feather duster.

Joan was having trouble finding a place...

2010-04-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

Joan of Arc
Couldn’t park
But Maria Montessori
Found a place in the multi-storey.

Versonalities

2010-04-03T14:47:00.000-07:00

This is one of many that I'll be posting from time to time - "Versonalities" - you may have heard of them, but never in this context...

Catherine of Aragon
Was something of a paragon
But Catherine Parr
Regularly went too far.

Rain

2010-04-03T00:37:00.000-07:00

This was written in the summer a couple of years ago - but it's almost equally appropriate now!

RAIN –

It’s rained for days It’s rained for nights
It’s rained like this before
Does anybody know a way
To get in touch with Noah?
It’s rained all day, it’s rained all night
It’s rained in light and dark
Can someone ring that feller Noah?
We really need an Ark.
For forty days and forty nights
It’s pelted dogs and cats
It’s washed away our brollies and it’s
Washed away our hats.
It’s rained on me, it’s rained on you
On people of all types
How can it be that way down South
They’re standing by their pipes?

Buffalo Bill

2010-04-02T04:16:00.000-07:00

Buffalo Bill was an Actor
A showman of fame and repute
He played a poor fellow
Who, in a bordello,
Performed in his birthday suit!

Bill’s girl friend was Miss Annie Oakley
She of quick temper and gun
Jeff the poor chef
Was dicing with death
When she found his hair in her bun!

Big Bill and Annie were lovers
Bareback they rode on a horse
Like a couple of teens
Eating sausage and beans
They galloped three times round the course.

If you happen to have a computer
You can google them both on the net
You’ll find there’s no truth
In my tale – it’s a spoof –
The truth is the two never met!

Timothy Machin

2010-03-31T23:18:00.000-07:00

TIMOTHY MACHIN

Timothy Machin nearly died of frustration
A writer, though no one had heard of him,
He claimed that Shakespeare was a relative – near -
Which, you know, was both sad and absurd of him.

As a junior bard he was quite a retard
And his parents they thought not a lot of him.
They said “you don’t try” and his only reply
So depressed them they quickly got shot of him.

Cast off by his folk and totally broke
He vowed they would one day think well of him
But try as he might he just couldn’t write
- That’s the reason that no-body’s heard of him.

So he worked as a hack, with a genuine lack
Of talent, the critics steered wide of him,
But he managed to cope with great dollops of dope
And Johnny Walker (Black Label) inside of him.

transvestite

2010-03-23T23:51:00.001-07:00

It's not true, but it seemed like a good idea at the time!

The words we had to use were - Pink, Concoction, Obstinate, Pope, Transvestite, Tarmac.

It’s not easy to be a transvestite
I’d rather be Bishop or Pope
And sometimes I think
If it wasn’t for pink
I just wouldn’t know how to cope.
It’s not like I’ve got any option
It’s an obstinate urge that I get
To put on nice clothes
Silk bra, knickers and hose
With a corset to make up the set.
I wish I could make a concoction
To make me more macho and butch
I would lift a large load
Or tarmac the road
If you’d only stop calling me “Chooch”!

Ethel the nurse...

2010-03-22T10:19:00.000-07:00

Nurse Ethel was working one night on the ward
When Tom Pugh a plumber, rang his old whatsitcord
That emergency string
You’re instructed to ring
When you’re dying to pee - or your systems have stalled.

“What’s with you, Thomas Pugh?” Our Ethel inquired
She was no fan of Thomas, she was hungry and tired
In no mood to face
Such a medical case
As Tom - a young man by diseases inspired.

He’d been in her ward more times than she knew
With measles and dropsy and shingles and ‘flu
Surely no mammal
(Including the camel)
Had as many conditions as young Thomas Pugh.

He’d read Medical tomes, daily page after page
And every disease he had sought to engage
So that Ethel the Nurse
Couldn't wait for the hearse -
That would finally page Thomas Pugh off her stage.

A new Gnu

2010-03-19T11:53:00.001-07:00

GNU -

It’s been so very long since they wrote that wretched song
And they’ve left me feeling angry, feeling blue,
They were of course that duo people call Flanders and Swan –
And now everybody thinks I’m a Gnu –
But I’m an Elk, I’m not a Gnu, I’m not a Gnu and I’m not at all gamused
That everybody seems to take the irritating view- that I’m a Gnu!
Everybody knows a fish – if it swims it must be fish
Whether in a lake or in the sea -
Everybody knows a bird – if it flies it must be bird –
Unless it be a wasp or g-nat or bee
Any schoolboy ignoramus, knows the specie he should name us
But it seems that rule does not apply to me!
Cos when they look at me, it isn’t me they see, confusion will most certainly ensue
They just look and all agree
That what they think they see – well, it isn’t really me – It’s a Gnu!
But I’m not a Gnu, I’m not a Gnu, I’m not a Gnu if it’s all the same to you.
I suppose that, at a push, if you saw me in the bush,
You might think I have the smile of a leather skinned reptile
But it’s certainly not the smile of a Gnu!
At a festival of fools all the zoologic rules
May be overturned by some alternate view
So that - though an Elk I be – I’ve forsook my pedigree
And metamorphosed into a Gnu.
Zoo keepers, as a rule, learn their animals at school,
And should guard their nomenclature with their life
My keeper should proclaim my nature and my name
With the loudness of a common old fishwife
But he doesn’t, I regret and I’d like to take a bet
That even he is of the view – the much mistaken view – that – I- am – a - Gnu!

Little Madge - who loved to come dancing, but ended up all at sea

2010-03-18T10:04:00.000-07:00

Little Madge, the story goes,
Was far from being Twinkletoes
She was a clumsy little creature
And quite dismayed her dancing teacher –
Who’d learnt her skills at Sadlers Wells
Then fell to teaching little ‘gals’
The finer points of ballet dancing–
But Madge was never good at prancing
To dance and jig she had no flair
Banana skins were always there –
She’d learn her steps, but soon forgot ‘em
And always ended on her bottom.
At skipping too, there was no hope
Poor Madge got tangled in the rope.
So all the girls at Madge’s school
Would hold her up to ridicule,
They’d cry “you’re such a clumsy clot!
And such a lovely mover – not!”
They were such horrid little dears
They often brought poor Madge to tears!
One night young Madge knelt by her bed
To say her prayers like Mummy said.
And in tearful desperation
She called her magical relation -
“Oh give me, please, a dance make-over
And make my legs like A. Pavlova -
I want to dance a sailor’s jig
Like Captain Cook upon his brig.
But most of all, instead of slipping
Please let me be the best at skipping.”
There was no camera there to prove
That Fairy Godma made her move -
But - of this - there is no doubt
She waved her wand with joyous shout
And in the twinkling of an eye
Twelve thousand miles did young Madge fly
To find herself the worthy Skipper
Of a South Sea Island clipper.

Poor Bill...

2010-03-13T07:17:00.001-08:00

HERE LIES BILL…

Here lies Bill
He always had the Will
And suffice it to say
He always found a way!

I just can't keep up with the changes...

2010-03-12T09:49:00.000-08:00

CHANGES
Each week that goes by there are new things to try
Every day there are new things to learn
It’s the very quintessence of planned obsolescence
And you soon wonder which way to turn!
It was all very different when I was a lad
We had what we had - and that wasn’t too bad
We had little choice, with a limited range
But now we’re bombarded by “ progress” and “change” –
It’s not like the days when I used to be young
With all these new thingies to get round your tongue-
And it’s all from computers, that’s where they derive,
And they all go “beep beep” and take over our lives –

There’s routers, broadband, mobile phones,
Hubble telescopes and clones
Nerds and Geeks and wireless mouses
Domain names for hi-tech houses
WYSIWIG is What You Get.
And you can safely surf the Net
If your Password is protected
Trojan Horses are rejected
As are Viruses and Worms
(Double-click to read the terms).
Acronyms are used to tease –
LCDs and TFTs
SD Cards and ISPs
USBs, HDTVs
LEDs and MP3s
CD ROMs and ISPs
And they use them to confuse
With VCRs and CPUs
AOLs and GP-esses –
What do they mean? You’ve got three guesses.
Go and Google them, no sweat -
If you go on the Internet!

Peter the Penguin

2010-03-10T00:59:00.001-08:00

Peter the Penguin the Painter.

You’ve heard of a Penguin named Peter
Who was hatched on the Antarctic ice
When petrol was 2p a litre
And whisky was half of that price.
When Pete was a tiny “penguinlet”
He developed a talent quite quaint
For one of his small, stubby, winglets
Became covered in bristles – and paint -
So he sat there ignoring the strictures
Of temperatures thirty below
And painted spectacular pictures
Of glaciers and icebergs and snow.
His mother, a bird of resources,
A society climber most skilled,
Booked him in to art painting courses
To see his potential fulfilled –
A trumpeter of her chick’s talent
She determined to make him a name
And soon he became an appellant
To the bird pecking-order of fame.
He was known as a great innovator
Eschewing traditional ways
And as Peter the Penguin the Painter
He created the painting bird craze;
Of garden and river and meadow and pool
He painted landscapes with a view;
Pretentious Art Snobs call them “Avian School” -
But to you and to me they’re “bird poo”!

In London, New York and in Boston
Art critics were stunned by Pete’s stuff
It mattered not what it was costin’
Of his art they could not get enough –
In fashion there was nothing quainter
Famous galleries sent out the call
“Peter the Penguin the Painter
Is THE bird to be hung on your wall.”

Phobias - we all have 'em...

2010-03-09T07:15:00.001-08:00

PHOBIAS.

In days of old when men were bold and heroes were normal folk
When cats were never scared of dogs and women had hearts of Oak
When the boldest knights wore ladies’ tights and nobody dared to laugh
Britannia ruled the waves those days and we never did things by half –
Nobody was scared of anything then and phobias didn’t exist –
But now we’re scared of everything, there’s a never-ending list!

We’re scared of heights and insect bites
Con-fined places, open spaces,
Flying, dying, crossing bridges,
Baldness, spiders, bats and midges,
Fags and smoking,
Chewing, choking,
Flying moths and crossing roads
Chickens, nuts, and flu microbes,
Unfriendly dogs and cats and rats
Asbestos, loo seats, baseballs bats,
Walking under workmen’s ladders,
Being bitten by angry adders,
Doing things on thirteenth Fridays
Going out on wet and dry days -
We’re scared to win, we’re scared to fail
Scared to swim and scared to sail,
Scared of being in the sun
Scared of having too much fun,
Scared of eating steak and chips
Scared of scoffing walnut whips -
Of growing old and being late
Scared of what might be our fate –
Scared of looking back, regretting
Scared of losing and forgetting –

But things would be a whole lot easier
If we would all contract amnesia.

Which Witch?

2010-03-05T05:44:00.001-08:00

WHICH WITCH?

Two witches who came from Ipswich
Were identical to the last stitch
You could see they were twins
With the same kiths and kins
But you couldn’t tell which witch was which.

Young Leo the layabout...

2010-03-02T22:27:00.000-08:00

Young Leo - how he fell in love and got himself a job...

Young Leo was a layabout, forever on the dole
His mum said “Go and get a job you lazy little …soul!
All you do is lie on t’couch and sup your father’s ale
Like people what we read about in blooming Daily Mail!”
One day while Leo lay on couch with six pack in his hand
Clutching his remote control with movies on demand
Salvation Army Band came round – their music it were grand –
With rousing tunes and songs and hymns about the Promised Land -
Leo liked it a great deal and at the brassy sound
He dropped his six pack on the floor and threw the window down
And there he spied a comely lass with trumpet to her lips
Blonde of hair and fair of face, a-wiggling her hips -
Leo fell - head over heels, and told her in a flash
“I was a worthless sofa spud* – you’ve turned me into mash!”

He swore true love forever, serenaded her with odes -
But she rejected him and cried “You’re laziest of toads!
How could I love a man like you, who’s always on the dole?
Go get yourself a job you slob – emancipate your soul!”
She didn’t mean that sole at all, the one that’s on your shoe –
She meant the metaphysic one, but he did misconstrue
And took a job in local shop, whose adverts he had seen,
“The oldest leather shop in town - and Cobblers to the Queen!”

(* = couch potato)

Loch Ness Monster?

2010-02-23T02:54:00.000-08:00

Hi! Back again after two weeks soaking up the sun (and a bit of rain) in mid-Atlantic Canaries. Reminds me of something that happened when Kath and me were holidaying in Scotland not so long ago...

I’m Adamant, I think

There can be no doubt about it, I’m adamant - I think -
That I saw the Loch Ness Monster, very vague, but quite distinct.
He had big rolling eyes and a set of wicked teeth
He was there down in the loch – Or at least that’s my belief.
His body was all green - and lumpy with red blots -
Though he may have been dark blue and those lumps, perhaps, were spots.
He was shaped just like a serpent and he chased me with a roar –
At least I think he chased me - I cannot be too sure.
Yes! There is no doubt about it, I’m positive – I think –
That I saw the Loch Ness Monster - but it might have been the drink!

The tale of old Mrs Shine

2010-02-04T00:59:00.000-08:00

SHINE ON MRS SHINE...

I went to a boot sale the other day, you know the sort of thing,
Took all me bits and me bobs to sell and me 'alf used balls of string
I was settlin' in
Wiv me bottle of gin
When along came Mrs Shine -
Of all the stalls in all the world she 'ad to be next to mine!

We've all met Mrs Shine before, or somebody just the same,
She's got all the evils of this world and somebody else is to blame,
She bent my ear from 'ere to 'ere
I thought I'd committed a crime -
Of all the stalls in all the world she 'ad to be next to mine!

"It's me piles is givin' me gyp today", that's how she started orf
"And I nearly died the other day, on account of me smoker's corf.
And me very close veins
Is givin' me pains
From me ankles right up to me spine -"
She bent an' rattled 'er wooden leg and clicked 'er metal ‘ips
'Er voice it whistled and wheezed a bit on account of 'er plastic lips -
So to get some relief
She took out 'er teeth
And washed 'em in 'ome-made wine -
Of all the stalls in all the world, she 'ad to be next to mine!

"My daughter is worser than me" she said, "She's never been very well
She went with a bloke and then 'ad a stroke and 'er body began to swell
Then some of 'er bits
Fell off and said quits
She nearly passed over the line -"
She combed and permed 'er auburn wig, her daughter was introduced
And they sat and they moaned and complained all day and I wasn't very amused
When they 'anded out parts
Amputated at Barts
And preserved in a lager and lime -
Of all the stalls in all the world they 'ad to be next to mine!

Then all of a sudden she 'ad a fit and 'er daughter looked on with pride
You wouldn't 'ave thought she would act like that, when 'er mother 'ad just gorn an' died
But she then 'ad the gall
To stay by 'er stall
Still floggin’ 'er latest line -
"My mother" said she, "Was quite rightly proud, of the fings wot was wrong with 'er
And she knew in 'er way there would come a day, something fatal was bound to occur -
'My daughter,' said she
'Never falter' said she,
'Stay open till closing time -'

An' so she went on, working round 'er late mum, with 'er body there lying in state
An' the punters with stares went on buying 'er wares at a madly exorbitant rate
Whilst me at my stall
I sold nothing at all -
All thanks to the late Mrs Shine! -
Of all the stalls in all the world - did she 'ave to be next to mine?

That Nagging feeling...

2010-02-02T02:57:00.000-08:00

Our latest Poetry and Prose threw up the following words -
Coaster, jug, crutch, publican, freezing, pomegranate.

from which came -

There’s a mediaeval tavern in the centre of the town
Where the Publican he used to be a clown
But he left that job he'd chosen
When he married Sadie Rosen
And ever since his face has worn a frown.

When he met her she was serving
From behind a bar in Durban
And the fellows they came flocking to her bar
She dispensed real beer and coffee
From her jugs both full and frothy
With a taste of Eastern Promise - Oo-la-la!

In all weathers, hot or freezing
Sadie had a way of pleasing -
All her customers were satisfied as hell
Her Pyms were full and fruity
Apples, grapes, a pear of beauty
And served with Pomegranate seeds as well.

Our Clown, whose name was Solly
Wooed Sadie and felt jolly
When she said she’d plight her troth with him and wed
And with all her loving touches
He cried out and called for crutches
When he tried to get up from their marriage bed!

But his joy was short and snappy
Solly ended far from happy
For he hadn’t really known the girl he'd wed –
She was something of a tartar
And he near became a martyr
Wishing that he wasn’t wed, but dead.

For Sadie was a wild shrew
Her words of praise were very few
Every sentence that she uttered was a nag
In a voice so shrill and strident
Like a Devil with a Trident
She nagged and nagged and nagged and nagged and nagged.

“You’re still acting like a clown!
See that toilet seat stays down!
Don’t put wet spoons in the sugar
Oi! You’re driving me meshugga* -
Don’t get finger marks on toaster
Every cup must have a coaster
When you put it on the table -
Read the date that’s on the label!
Oi! You always were a messer
And you're such a greedy fresser!**
You eat just like a pig -
You’ve got gravy in you're wig
Oi! You're such a useless jerk
Never done a real day's work…
Nag nag nag nag nag nag nag nag nag nag!”

Solly rued the day he’d got her –
And finally he shot her
But even as her lifeblood flowed away
She nagged “You stupid Mug
Just look at our best rug! -
Why didn’t you just poison my glass of Beaujolais?”

* = mad ** = greedy eater

Getting above myself

2010-01-29T01:57:00.001-08:00

GIRAFFE

I wish I had a big giraffe

A giant like a steeple

I’d sit up on his head and laugh

At all the little people

Charlie Darwin again, this time more intimately

2010-01-28T03:21:00.000-08:00

I used to know Charles Darwin
I called him CD once or twice
I met him horse riding
And joined in the chiding –
His theories were not very nice!
He caused quite a schism
A great cataclysm
Between science and church on this planet
He said Homo Sapes
Were related to Apes
And tomatoes to fresh pomegranates!
To some he’s a Champ
To others a tramp
A trumpeter of wild theories –
But now I can see –
As I swing from this tree –
He was right – do you have any queries?

Thinking about Charles Darwin

2010-01-27T10:13:00.000-08:00

Does anyone know the present state
Of the Nature/Nurture great debate?
It’s an Open Question – and for some
Each side has doubts to overcome.
The Verger no doubt thinks it’s true
That God has Power over You –
He thinks, whatever circumstance,
In Life there’s nothing left to chance
We simply can’t ignore the facts -
We reap the Harvest of our acts;
But some think nurtured - good or bad -
We ape the ancestors we had;
That character in all creatures movin’,
Like filigree is interwoven
Within our genes; in every case,
The nose that grows upon our face
Mimics the nose some forebear sported –
Which proves that genes cannot be thwarted.
And, like a lintel careful placed
Above a door, to building brace,
Our genes ensure the human race
Although displaced from place to place
Will always take the human form
Will not mutate too far from norm –
So each man looks much like his brother -
And his wife, in time, becomes her mother!

back again

2010-01-25T22:45:00.000-08:00

Just for fun and thinking about being drawn into things -

Mesmer was a funny chap
His eyes were large and deep;
He was no bore, but when he spoke
Most people fell asleep!

Back after a billion years

2010-01-22T02:43:00.000-08:00

After sorting out the bad weather - it's raining but it's got nothing to snow for it -
a few little words from the Diplodocus

The Prehistoric Monster Staff
Made a touching photograph.
Pterodactyl had a smile
Stegosaur teeth by the score
All the lumpy, bumpy features
Of those monstrous ugly creatures
Showed up clear – save Diplodocus
Who was slightly out of focus.

Molly, who really didn't care...

2010-01-13T07:23:00.002-08:00

A little thought about ever-eating...

Molly liked her fish with batter
Piled high upon her platter
People told her she’d get fatter -
Molly said it didn’t matter!

2010-01-13T07:23:00.001-08:00

Fred Was a Fiend for Food

2010-01-12T04:15:00.000-08:00

"You've got to eat well to keep out the cold," my Mother used to tell us when we were mere striplings; that has nothing to do with the fact that one of the poetry and prose sessions ended with the words "Steeplechase, abstemious, egg, divorce, philosopher, crawling" so I consequently wrote about Fred, who was and is completely fictitious-

FRED WAS A FIEND FOR FOOD...

Freddy was a thinker, the philosopher kind
Who’d nothing but thoughts going round in his mind
And chief of those thoughts, which he daily pursued –
Was banquets and feasting and all kinds of Food.
For breakfast he favoured six rashers with eggs
Freshly ground coffee he’d drain to the dregs
For lunch he’d consume – well, I’ll try to be brief –
Two thirds of a lamb and a mountain of beef.
For tea it was sandwiches, prefer-ably ham
Anything less than three loaves was a sham
And even on days he was feeling abstemious
He’d consume sixty scones lashed with cream - at its creamiest.
He ate and he ate - far too much than was wise
‘Til he grew to a giant incredible size
Forty stones in his socks, he made the scales quiver –
Which wasn’t so good for his heart nor his liver.
Fred’s wife it is true and the truth must be said
Endeavoured to change the way her Fred was fed
She cajoled and she’d scold, and then threaten divorce
But Fred kept on scoffing – and showed no remorse.
His doctor, a man who was kindly and wise
Said “You’ve got to eat less, Fred, get some exercise
Or you’ll end up in trouble, a real basket case -
Now, why don’t you run in the town steeplechase?
It’ll give you the exercise you so badly need –
If you train and you diet you’ll run it at speed.”
To which Fred responded, with language appalling –
“You must think I’m daft, Doc, for I’ll finish up crawling!”

Friends

2010-01-11T05:13:00.000-08:00

It's bleak and horrible and snowy - you can either get depressed or enjoy it with your
FRIENDS
You can travel to the moon
You can walk around the block
You can hover in a balloon
You can wear a brand new frock
You can follow all the latest fads and fashionable trends
But there's nothing quite like being with your friends.
You can dine on caviar
Drink Chateauneuf du pape
Pig out on foie gras
And have chardonnay on tap
You can race a sporty car around the tightest of hair bends
But there's nothing quite like being with your friends.
You can shop until you drop
If it really turns you on
You can run and skip and hop
Until your energy's all gone
You can live life to the full, burn the candle at both ends
But there's nothing quite like being with your friends!

Through the winter snow

2010-01-07T07:06:00.000-08:00

Back now after a few days in Hertfordshire - home journey much inhibited by the snow, which seems an apt time to remember this -

I was walking in the snow one winter’s day –
They’d not put down the salt, it was slippery I thought,
And icicles from windows made display –
I was walking, as I say, in a very careful way -
When my hat flew off my head
In a way - it must be said -
In a peculiar, extraordinary way.
It parted from my hair
And flew up in the air
And landed in a gutter, I declare.
I turned around to see
A small boy behind me
On his face an expression wholly blank.
I said “now let’s be frank
Did you throw a ball of snow
At my hat – It must be so –
For I really do not know
How else my trilby hat
Could have shot off just like that
In that totally extraordinary way.”
He said “‘Guv would I do that
To your beautiful new ‘at
With a feather stuck together in it’s brim?”–
But his gloves were white with snow
And I knew it must be so
That little guy was full of porky pies –
And so on a sudden whim I turned, grabbed hold of him
And threw him in a dustbin with a will –
Then I went off through the snow – with a festive ho ho ho
And for all I know he’s fester-ring there still!

Edna Clouds

2009-12-29T10:12:00.000-08:00

Hi! Here's one about a little girl who walked around with her head in the clouds...That can be dangerous!

THE CAUTIONARY TALE OF A LITTLE GIRL WHO BECAME KNOWN AS “EDNA CLOUDS”

A little girl named Edna Searle
Was really not of this cruel world
Her mum and dad were worried sick
Could not work out what made her tick–
Why was she always vague and woolly –
Half awake, but never fully?
“Eye tests,” said her dad, “she always passes;
Which surely means she don’t need glasses!
So why on earth does she keep knocking
Into things? She’s really shocking!
She falls up kerbs she falls down stairs
She’s always bumping into chairs,
Each time she goes across a room
She sends our Wedgewood to its doom
And woe betide cut glass and vases
And all our other objet d’arses -
She cannot walk a dozen paces
Without she knocks them from their places.
She mixes up her socks and shoes
And seems so utterly confused
Between her left hand and her right –
We swear she can’t tell day from night!
And when she goes to cross the street
She doesn’t look- nor pause her feet
But walks across without a care –
As if the traffic wasn’t there!
What is it makes our errant daughter
Do these things she didn’t oughter?”

Poor parents of young Edna Searle
Their world was in a total whirl.
They took her to the Doc to see
If he could find a remedy
Or even yet could diagnose
Just how her problem had arose.

He thumped her chest, made her say “ah!”
Prodded her appendix scar,
Examined places numerous
Lungs, patella, humerus,
Heart and chest and duodenum
(Had they changed since last he’d seen ‘em?)
Found that all her vital signs
Were running well on perfect lines;
Checked her psyche for neurosis
And then pronounced his diagnosis -
“I know your child is in a state
Of mind where she can’t concentrate -
I think she’s gone, well over the border
Into Attention Deficit Disorder.
She’s very smart and well endowed
But her head’s up there amongst the clouds!
Nothing’s real to her it seems
She just wanders round – and dreams.
She walks the streets of our great city
With definite traits of Walter Mitty.

There’s not much I can do to aid her
Just do your best, please, to persuade her
To change her ways. Speak clear, speak loud -
And get her head from out those clouds!
For if you don’t – I’d like to bet
She’ll soon do something she’ll regret!”

The parents of young Edna Searle,
They took her home, that wayward girl
And as they walked amongst the crowds
The people cried “There’s Edna Clouds!”
For word had spread of her condition –
But Edna – showing no contrition –
Would not change her wayward ways
And went on living in a daze.

Then Edna’s school, as some schools do
Took all their pupils to the zoo
To see the animals and creatures
That any modern, good zoo features.
Parakeets and iguanas
Monkeys scoffing ripe bananas,
Hippopotami and spiders
Bugs that burrow down inside us
Insects, beasts, invertebrates,
Chimpanzees in tête-à-têtes,
Lions, tigers, leopards too
Doing what those creatures do,
Penguins, Polar bears in lakes,
Lizards, alligators, snakes.

“This one here’s an anaconda”
The teacher said, “So don’t you wander
Too close to him nor any snakes
Don’t get too close, for all our sakes –
Your mums and dads would be upset
If by a big snake you got “et”.
And I’ll be blamed for choice of venue
If you’re dished up on serpents’ menu!”

Edna Searle though standing near him
Head in clouds, just didn’t hear him,
She wandered off in daydream mode
And fell into the snakes’ abode
Where a hungry boa-constrictor
From his luncheon menu picked her -
Wound around her, squeezed her flat
And swallowed her whole, complete with hat!
Edna, dreaming, made no protest –
It’s doubtful that she even noticed.

This tragedy now lies far behind us
But Edna’s fate serves to remind us -
That those who keep their heads in clouds
Will very soon be wrapped in shrouds.

No Time for losing your head

2009-12-23T22:58:00.000-08:00

Busy time this festive season, but it's no time to lose your head as the King said to the Queen...

Anne Boleyn

Said Anne Boleyn “I’ve lost my head
Where is it? I can’t tell!”
“I’d help you look”, King Charles said,
“But I’ve lost mine as well!”

2009-12-20T10:12:00.000-08:00

Hi!

As it's coming up for the New Year here's an apropriate one...

NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS

There’s my next door neighbour Fred
He keeps standing on his head
He thinks that he was born Australi-an
His wife, she gets confused
Always talking to his shoes
Resolves that he must stop it if he can!

My Uncle Jeremiah
He’s resolved to join the choir
But he hasn’t got a voice –
And that’s the truth!-
I suppose it’s just as well
Cos the choir sounds like hell
Like cats a-caterwauling on the roof!

Cousin Paul says it’s no joke
He will keep away from smoke
No cigarettes will touch his lips no more -
He’s bought a ciggy holder
That stretches from his shoulder
Around the room - and then straight out the door!

Last year my cousin Emma
Faced a terrible dilemma -
Should she abstain from chocolates or sex?
Her husband, Cousin Jay
Didn’t notice either way
But the milkman – he was looking rather vexed.

Auntie Maude resolved her thighs
To reduce by exercise
But Uncle Ted was full of “ifs” and “buts” -
A wife with slimmer thighs
Would be pleasing on the eyes,
But who the hell would crack his Christmas nuts?

2009-12-19T05:12:00.000-08:00

Hi - today is time for a limerick -

Said a pretty young thing from Belgravia
“I know what the boys in the Navy are
You know you’ve been caught
When they’re listing to port
And from then on it’s all misbehavi-are!”

2009-12-18T07:42:00.000-08:00

I've had a bit of a toothache over the last 24 hours, so now seems a good time to post a little ditty I wrote a few months back

The WORDS for Poetry and Prose were – Picnic, horrendous, forest, Animal trainer, dentist, climbing.
Out of which I made the following -

“She was only a dentist’s daughter, but she certainly knew the drill!”

I’ll always remember my dentist
The one I had down in the south
He sang songs by Elvis from Memphis
And he always looked down in the mouth –
Orthodontics to him was horrendous
No picnic for him pulling teeth
An animal trainer he’d rather have been
A steeplejack, fireman or thief,
A lumbering Jack in the forest
Or a tar sailing yachts on a reef.

But his mother she loved social climbing
She was always a bit of a snob
For her son it must be a profession
Not for him any second rate job -
But Accountant, or Lawyer, or doctor –
To him they meant nothing but grief
So he ended up being a dentist -
And now he’s fed up to the teeth!

A Poem for Early Friday

2009-12-17T18:38:00.000-08:00

This time the words were -
governor
messenger
soothing
friend
role
punch

I was walking on the beach just after lunch,
When I met my good old friend – yes! – Mr Punch
I asked him “Where is Judy?”
He replied “She’s gone all moody –
She’s walked out of our show – and that’s the crunch!”
A messenger of doom, that’s what he was,
He played the role convincingly because
“You can’t have Punch and Judy
When Judy’s gone all moody
Cos she wants to be the governor, the boss!
“She said ‘the punch lines are all yours and that’s not fair!
I never get the laughs – I want my share –
You’re nothing but a cheater
You’re a wife and baby beater –
I’m walking off the show – and I don’t care!’”
“Try saying something soothing,” I advised
“It’ll get you back together, I surmise!”
He said “That’s the way to do it!
I’m an idiot, I blew it
It may not come so easy, but it’s wise!”

Poem for Wednesday

2009-12-16T03:42:00.000-08:00

Hi!
Here's one I wrote a couple of years ago - it wasn't really my Uncle!

A CURIOUS LANGUAGE

My Uncle was a clever man, a King of Spelling Bees
He knew the length and breadth of words and the Latin names for trees
He was an English Master of no small intellect
Who practised crossword anagrams and spoke in dialects –
His zeal for punctuation was strict to such a level
That his poor and suffering students wished him gone - and to the devil!
He was, in short, a master of the glorious English tongue
Who knew the meaning of all words, spoken, mimed or sung -
But all his life he wondered at the lack of correlation
Between the spelling of some words – and their pronunciation –

For instance ‘W-I –N- D’ spells ‘wind’, but then you find
Those letters, quite unchanged, may be pronounced as ‘WIND’ (Wined!)
Then Cholmondeley – a curious name, it isn’t very comely
The educated and elite pronounce it simply ‘chumly’;
And Featherstonehough, pronounced like that, your tongue and teeth make war,
The toffs, who know a thing or two, say simply thus - ‘Fanshaw’.
Boatswain? – that is a naval term, all mariners will know some –
A tar who’s sailed before the mast will tell you it is - ‘bosun’!

Then famously there’s ‘plough’ and ‘bough’, that funnily enough,
Don’t rhyme with tough or rough or cough and other diphthong stuff.
And if ‘does’ (duz) is also said as ‘doze’,
Then why say ‘shoes’ not ‘shuz’ – or shows’?
If ‘spouse’ in plural is said as ‘spices’,
Then more than one small ‘mouse’ is ‘mices’.
If ‘route’ is ‘root’ then ‘bout’ is ‘boot’
And ‘shout should surely sound like ‘shoot’?

With cricket games you win or lose depending how you play ‘em –
It seems to be the same with words – it’s how you choose to say ‘em!
It’s English, famous mother tongue, of Shakespeare, Keats and Milton
The great communicating tool the English race was built on –
So many words, so many ways, so many rules for playing
Great wonder anyone at all knows what the hell we’re saying!

2009-12-15T06:06:00.000-08:00

Hi! Welcome to my new blog. What I'd like to do is to get my comic verse to a wider audience. At the moment the vast majority of my work is created for the Poetry and Prose evenings that Kath and I host each month. Quite often people have said "why don't you sent that up to this or that publisher?" Better than that I'll put it on a blog. The way it works with the P & P evening is that we think of six words at each session and, at the following session, P&Pers have to use those words in a poem or piece of prose that they have written. So here is the first one to appear on my blog; I hope you enjoy reading it...

Words – cyclical, terrible, rat-catcher, consent, negative, sneezing.

He was an honest looking feller
This down-and-out “Big Issue” seller
I felt quite sad he’d had to live
For so long in the negative.
He’d lost his job a while ago
Exactly why he did not know -
“How terrible it’s been,” he said
To find a place to rest my head.”
He gave a little, plaintive, sob.
“I don’t know why I lost my job.
It’s not just the economy
It’s not been cyclical for me,
The time of year, or change of season -
There’s got to be a better reason.
I was a rat-catcher by trade
A goodly living I had made
And as the years both came and went
I moved, by mutual consent,
From town to town - just catching rats –
Successfully, check out the stats.
I’ve had my share of ups and downs
But rats have always been around;
From sewer pipes I’ve come up wheezing
Sometimes coughing, sometimes sneezing
With loads of rats, a goodly haul -
But now I find there’s none at all.
They’ve gone from rubbish tips and drains
From sewer pipes and water mains
It’s very strange and really weird
The rats have somehow disappeared.”

I thought – this seems most dark and sinister –
Then walked, by chance, into Westminster –
There I found Rats in every quarter
Doing what they didn’t oughter -
And this confirmed my worst suspicions
They’d gone up to London to be politicians.