Rhymes or Reason

March seventh! Gosh, I've made it this far and still managed to find summat to write about. Hmmm! Well, here's one I did earlier, about ten minutes ago actually. So have a read if you like, or if you don't like then don't, but it's Monday tomorrow, and you'd hate to go off to work/school/college/retirement, etc., knowing that you'd ignored my musings now would you?

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It's late Sunday evening the telly is on
but the programmes are rubbish it's all such a con
the way they distract us with almost there porn
is a crime against nature and something to scorn
so it's off to the corner to sit myself down
and start to write up something as yet unknown
but the words they will come if I put my mind to it
I've just got to concentrate hard then I'll do it
I'll sort out the order of words so they rhyme
and with luck they'll appear at the end of each line
if I'm careful to think up a subject to write about
why not a comedy, a right royal knockabout
or perhaps a cold horror to end the weekend
on a note of foreboding, what do you recommend?
a drama or tragedy romcom or soap
the sort of idea that saps all your hope
of a fairytale ending to finish the piece
or a cliffhanger ending to titter and tease
whatever it will be it's just dawned on me
that it won't be much better than what's on TV
so perhaps I'll just give up and leave the computer
then doze in my chair like the standard consumer
who goggles all eve at the screen on the wall
but next morning can remember nothing at all
of what programmes were aired the evening before
when I tried to create something worth working for
who knows what tomorrow brings in with the day
think I'll just say goodnight now and be on my way

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Just think, tomorrow actually is Monday. Reminds me of a song from back in the 60's. It was called "It's Good News Week", which was about anything but good news. Still, it's a good line to start a song with isn't it?

 

Moonday it is Moonday. xxxx

 

It's International Women's day today, and in honour of that this poem is about an international woman. A woman who becomes international due to the pain she suffers at home. So she takes her life in her hands and moves to somewhere more conducive to her health.

There are many times when I wish I could do the same!

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The lady stood quietly beside the lake
but eventually her resolution waned
she stood as still as her bones could take
till she had to give in to the growing pain

for arthritis gripped her joints
her shoulders, elbows, hips and knees
and though she'd constantly anoint them
nothing seemed to help her ease

the chronic pain from which she suffered
despite the steroids she was prescribed
only sleep could keep the aching fettered
despite the cures she had contrived

but warmth could help her to survive
along with low humidity
it's what she craved throughout the winter
till the sunshine she could see

on sandy beaches by the shores
of distant lands she dreamed about
and though she struggled to keep going
she was determined to make it out

from cold and damp depressing weather
to where the sun beats down all day
and nothing spoils the deep blue vault
while a gentle breeze helps palm trees sway

so now she lays upon her sun bed
soaking up the warmth and rays
her illness now is in recession
let's hope that's just the way it stays
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I wonder when it will be International Men's Day? Or perhaps International Grumpy Old Git's Day?

 

Today I thought I'd write about our black cat (lucky for some!) who came to us from a rescue centre just before Christmas. It turns out he's a mouser!

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Huge unblinking orange eyes
ears bent forward, head quite still
long tail swishing side to side
back leg muscles tense his haunches
razor claws now grip the ground
he steels himself to make his launch
like a coiled spring
he prepares to pounce

the black furred killer waits and watches
when he's ready, then he'll strike
his quarry won't even know what's hit it
till his jaws close businesslike
around its throat, it's out of luck
and caged with teeth in vice-like maw
with grace and speed the cat has struck
he's pounced
and now he bites and scratches
just like every living thing he catches

in seconds the deadly fight is over
the quarry now lies limp and broken
clamped in jaws cat grips his prize
then to his padded feet he rises
slides quickly off to somewhere warm
there inflamed with urges untaught
he begins to bite and paw
the poor dead creature he's just caught

he'll maybe eat it if he's hungry or
perhaps he'll just leave it on the floor
last week it was a large brown rat we found
limp and crushed upon the ground
the other night just a poor small mouse that
he quickly devoured
the spoils of combat

with such a killer in the house
we've had to adapt and learn his habits
and though we feed him every day
he still likes to hunt his chosen tidbits
so though we're squeamish
and don't like blood
we clean up the carnage
and tell him he's good

having a cat is an education
in tolerance and adaptation
he tolerates us or so it seems
though we may kid ourselves we own him
we're the unpaid employees

we slave to feed him and give him treats
pet him when he gets under our feet
we clean and refill his litter tray
with set routine every other day
and spend some hours performing chores
so he can roam and hunt outdoors
without interference from anyone
and since he arrived
we dearly love him
he's a character, and lots of fun

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I wonder what tomorrow will catch in its rainy gaze? Coz it's due to be a rainy day.

 

Really love that xxx

 

Early one today. It's all about letters. You know, the sort you write to other people, or perhaps to yourself. The title's lifted from a line in the song Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues.

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Letters I've written ...

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The postman's coming
the postman's coming
the postman's coming!
I hear you say
I wonder what he'll bring today?
perhaps a toy in a great big box
or just some leaflets we'll throw away

the lottery that is the post
arriving through the long thin slot
accrues to those who write the most
communicating with a lot
of others who are of right mind
those people of a certain kind
who like to put their thoughts on paper
send them off to one another

in foreign climes or close to home
we like to write our feelings down
as scribbled notes or giant tomes
across the fields and market towns
we send those sealed down envelopes
that may contain our dreams and hopes
of how we'd live if we could close
the distance 'twixt both thee and those

there's something profound about a letter
that's far more deep than spoken words
and we compose ideas much better
when we shape our heart felt thoughts
as well judged prose that can convey
our feelings in a constant way
for once they're written down and sent
we can't retract them or repent
for what's been writ
those words have flown
our ammunition's now been spent

fleeting feelings now forgotten
but ever more to stain the page
and then remind those who may read them
of happiness or sudden rage
or love or sadness for what's past
and all the time those words will last
because we wrote them down and sent them
let's just hope we won't resent them
in the future when we meet
with those we wrote in lines so neat
about our lives as were right then
when we picked up our chosen pen

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No letters for me today. I'm hopeful that I'll get something tomorrow though.

 

Didn't know what to write about today, so I decided to play on 'March' as the operative word. So today's ode is about holidaymakers, but starts off with a reference to the strong winds we've been having. Then again, March is the windy month, so that explains it.

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When the wind blows the cradle will ...what
start rocking, or rolling, or just tip right over?
whatever it does the crying will start
but let's not talk babies
let's talk about travelling
come on now ladies
it's time to depart

March is well named as the month when we move
like an armadic force the wind blows us around
it gets us all climbing from rut and from groove
and leaving our homes to get out of the town

the grass is now growing up under our feet
and we itch to be starting our journeys of miles
to search out new places, somewhere unique
find something special to make it worth while

so we set off with bags packed
with hat and a rucksack
and a compass and road map
it's a new world we seek

the exodus starts as the Sun first appears
the people all milling about as they load
firstly suitcases or whatever their gear is
they're all in a hurry to get on the road

but the road's going nowhere
and soon blocked with traffic
which can be a shame
as the views are fantastic
once out of the city and into the country
the armada flows
like the March wind it blows
that will end up who knows
where the journey's end
will turn out to be

as people all spread out to look for attractions
and the ones who live in the places they pass
though wishing that they
could join in with the masses
they silently watch
as the tourists all flock
to the beautiful sights
while they frown in dismay

cameras click as the tourists pass by
selfie sticks poke everyone in the eye
the chattering hordes
invade every shore
and loudly cavort
though at home they're quite shy
this chaotic rabble the locals all hate
yet rely on to put daily food on their plates

and when in October the warm days have gone
the grockles departed
no more bawdy songs
the youngsters all silent now
back at their homes
there's nothing to wish for and nowhere to roam

the locals can move about freely at last
but they miss the excitement
they miss the bombast
of the people who visit them all summer long
and silently pray for them all to return

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With luck the wind will have dropped a little by the weekend, and hopefully by Mother's Day on Sunday.

 

It's my eldest sprogs birthday today, so that's what today's ode is about.

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Birthday Girl

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Today is the birthday of someone I know
one of my family members
she's in her late thirties with lots more to go
till age will eventually catch her

but right now she's pursuing her chosen career
doing vital research for her bosses
product releases rolled out by the score
let's hope they don't suffer any losses

she's quite independent, has always been so
no partner to tie or restrict her
it seems that's the way things are likely to go
till finally age overtakes her

but she's very happy with her chosen life
she wants for no gadget or toy
no battles to fight and no internal strife
has no need of a girl or a boy

to comfort or guide her or just be a pal
when things get her down in the dumps
instead she continues to feel fulfillled
and glide over life's little humps

those bumps in the road that catch us all out
and slow our inevitable progress
through life and maturity and I've no doubt
she'll follow this path till her egress

so Happy Birthday! daughter of mine
let's all have a sing song together
when you visit us here and we all can combine
to wish for your good health forever

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Have a lovely evening, and I'll see you tomorrow.

 

Today's the 13th. Not that that means much, but I've written a lament about the stupidity of war. Goodness knows why? It's a sunny day, and the wind's dropped a bit, so I should be in a more positive mood.

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A lament for the loss

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The battle was raging with deafening sound
with the bright orange flashes of shells all around
the soldier looked on, in his eyes was reflected
not the battle but something profound

he suddenly stood up as though death to defy
his comrades all wondered if he'd lost his mind
but he opened his arms and spread them to the sky
and he cried so loud everyone heard

"I've seen enough of my friends who lay dying
while generals sit at their desks and keep lying.
We fight and we suffer, for what I may ask?
Please tell me I'm wrong if you can."

the sergeant then shouted for him to get down
before he got killed by an enemy sniper
but just then the shooting stopped and all around
other soldiers stood up to be counted

"We've seen enough killing, we're all done with dying
you can't make us kill other young men by lying.
We all declare peace here on Earth as we stand
as only those in the right can!"

the captain then stood up with weapon in hand
to shoot down the men who'd disobeyed his commands
but the sergeant took the gun and he threw it away
and grabbing the captain he said

"Sir it looks like the mutiny's not just on our side
the enemy too has stopped fighting you see,
so don't blame our men for not wanting to die
the time for killing is done."

but the major then came up and without a word
he shot the poor sergeant through the back of his head
then turning the gun on the other men standing
he took aim
to fire again

just at that moment a shot did resound and
the major fell dead before he could find out
who'd shot him
to stop him
from killing his men
an enemy sniper then stood

"It was me who just shot your mad major my friends
it's time that we brought this whole war to an end.
There's no need for fighting, so let's stop it here
then perhaps we can all just go home."

the soldier who'd first stood up lowered his head
for it seemed that his message had still not been heard
to stop all the killing two more men were dead
and inside he silently cursed

"Why is it that people are so death obsessed
that they force us to fight till there's none of us left
all we are doing is killing young men
who'd be better off ploughing the fields.

Those men who are dead were the next generation
of workers and fathers who sustain all our nations
yet we throw them away just like yesterday's news
no people can deserve such reward!"

the soldiers all turned and as one walked away
from the battlefield where so many dead young men lay
but the big guns now roared and the soldiers all fell
till none were left living to tell

of the peace that the soldier had tried to declare
how the mass killing had nearly ended right there
but for greed and for profit the war thundered on and
more young men were sent out to die...

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Mother's Day tomorrow, but I don't recall whether Father's Night was nine months ago!

 

Wonderful as always. X

 

Mother's Day so I thought I'd write about family stuff.

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Mother's Day today, and a happy occasion
can't remember when Father's Night was though
it was so long ago I'm sure I've now forgotten
who cares it's the nurturing thought that counts. No?

we're sitting here wondering if any of our children
will come to visit today, perhaps not
it was Amy's birthday on Friday, she's already been
and Kate was here yesterday, we don't see her a lot

that just leaves Tom, and he's already here
as he's never left home, looks like he's here for good
and the lockdown don't help much to find him a partner
to join him and look for a flat in the 'hood

but right now he's upstairs asleep in his room
and when he'll awake is a riddle my dear
we don't know if he'll choose to join us real soon
or stay upstairs hoping we'll forget that he's here

so everything's quiet now here in our home
we can't plan for dinner till we know who'll come
to eat with us, laugh with us, drink with us too
to celebrate being the fruit of mum's womb

but in truth I like the quiet times when it's just us
there's no one to rush around, no need to fuss
we can just sit in silence and do what we do
I wonder if that's just what you're doing too?

I'm sure if you were you'd be knee deep in thought
and pondering what the next words of your tale will be
agonising over every detail of your plot
and labouring hard to help your reader see

what your hero or heroine needs to do next
to vanquish the foe and gain their reward
perhaps you'll indulge them in hot steamy sex
or perhaps just a sandwich to help them move forward

the story's the thing that trumps every other
even family days that will come and will go
through the year as the card makers want us to smother
our kin with much love like a blanket of snow

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Monday tomorrow and back to work for some, but not me. Ha Ha! Take that world of working for a living, you can't get me I'm retired!

 

Truly loved that. xxx

 

All about the Ides of March today, because of course today IS the Ides of March. Unlucky for some!!

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The Ides of March!

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The Ides of March are here today
sages told Ceasar to stay away
but he wouldn't listen to their advice
they didn't have the chance to warn him twice

a funny thing happened on the way to the Forum
or so they say in comedy films
but for poor old Ceasar it weren't so funny
when Brutus and friends their fate fulfilled

Ceasar perished from the blades
of all the senators gathered there
even his close friend Brutus betrayed
him not even letting his life be spared

and so the Ides are known to be
a warning for those who could be jinxed
but for the rest as dawns this day
we just see March winds, sleet and rain
that often fall, just like today

as for me what can I say
backache and headache rule the day
you shouldn't wish your life away
but right now I wish that I could play

with lithe young body
(mine of course!)
so don't go thinking I'm an old lech
if only time could be reversed
I'd treat it now with more respect

for my own health than when I was young
and foolishly doing stupid things
that could have been my own swan song
when my life could've come unhinged

but as it turned out I'm still here
to write these words upon this page
from what I've seen it's abundantly clear
I'll probably live to a ripe old age

so don't you worry about the Ides
it's only Romans who have to worry
it's a lovely place but stay inside
when it rains or you'll be sorry

the Roman rain don't always fall
in the plain or so I'm told
when it hits the drains all smell
and far from being the city of gold
Rome stinks just like rotting Hell!

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Just tomorrow to go then it's Paddy' Day, and the shamrock will be flying. I'll be toasting him with my Jamesons and Coke or lemonade, whichever I've got in the fridge.

 

Oh there will be a thread for St Patricks day. xxx

 

St Paddy's Day tomorrow, so here's a little ditty about the rain. If you don't know what rain's got to do with St Paddy, then I must ask, have you ever been to Ireland?

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Rain!

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Rain rain go away
and don't come back another day
I don't want water on my head
so please rain overnight instead

then every morn there'll be a view
of lots of sparkling morning dew
from all the rain that fell at night
to keep the flowers clean and bright

so get your act together clouds
and just remember two's a crowd
we don't need lots of wetness over
us as we seek four leafed clovers

the lucky one's we'll need tomorrow
for Paddy's Day or don't you know
the Shamrock Saint will have your guts
if go spilling water butts

their contents drowning out the plants
and dispossessing all the ants
of their great nests that dominate
anywhere they choose to migrate

for they give sustenance to birds
just like the tireless lowly worms
who toil for long months underground
to turn the clay that's all around

into the soil where we can grow
the seeds that every year we sow
to raise as crops each year to reap
as one our bods and souls to keep

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See you tomorrow!

 

St Patrick's Day, when the Chicago river turns green! With envy? or just from all the revellers out chucking back Guinness, and then chucking up into the nearest waterway.

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St Patrick's Day

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St Patrick's Day and only a year
since the last one came, it makes me think
of those we've lost who should be here
to raise a glass and hear it chink

the year we've seen has been an odd one
many people have passed on
to other worlds where we can't go
and then return to report upon

but now the sunrise starts to warm us
Winter's lockdown kept us safe
but Spring will come and so will charm us
with the new growth of God's grace

as bare brown earth begins to turn
into a healthy shamrock green
St Patrick I'm sure'd be pleased to learn
the worst of Winter's now been seen

so please raise glass of frothing brew
so dark yet with such promise headed
with tiny bubbles rising through
the mixture as it settles loaded

with such taste and texture laced
that tickles as it slides past tonsils
fermented Liffey water placed
in barrels to mature till bottled

or perhaps just barrel tapped
to give us all some much sought pleasure
now our stamina's been sapped
this heady brew's something to treasure

thanks St Patrick for your aid
in keeping Ireland free from snakes
in such green pastures now is made
the stoutest drink we can partake of

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Sorry for it being short, but that's all I could think of to write.

 

Thursday today, so here's a ditty about Thursday's Child. Oh, and about me getting old as well. I wasn't a Thursday's Child, I was born on a Monday, so I should have been fair of face. Don't know what went wrong there, but someone slipped up I think!

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Thursday's Child

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Thursday's child has far to go
or so the old rhyme tells us
glad I'm not a Thursday's child
I've nearly filled my canvass

very little's left to paint
perhaps a blank white corner
of snow white fibres that I ain't
as yet brought into order

for chaos reigns in life right now
we don't know where we're going
for all we know we might look out
and find it's started snowing

with just a few miles left to run
before I'm out of energy
I'd like to feel what's left is fun
until you speak my eulogy

I'll drift until I stop at last
with no more strength to utter
witty words to make you laugh
instead I'll surely mutter

and no-one who's nearby will hear
the wisdom of my ages
so quietly into your ear
as though from ancient sages

my last words spoken will expand
just like a spreading haze
and as I sigh my soul will fly
from here to the next phase

but till that time, it's still far off
I'll try to play around
with words and phrases off the cuff
yet deep and so profound

in fact I think I might commit
to write my poems down
into a book, then publish it
to sell around the town

who knows I might end up quite famous
in a modest way
if I can fill my word brush canvass
easel(y) each day!

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Frixxday tomorrow. The end of the working week for most, and then the weekend to recuperate, or if your name's Henry, perhaps it should be reCooperate?

 

Frixxxday today. So it's a not quite XXX poem that I've written. You've been warned!

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Down below

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He roughly pulled her down onto the bed
and held her with his hands each side her head
then to perform he started as
he pulled her top it parted and
bare flesh soon started showing down below

she watched his every move with glowing eyes
as he watched her in return with no surprise
she licked her lips then smiled
he could see she was quite wild
once the sap began to rise from down below

the temperature was almost steaming hot
and in no time they were wearing not a lot
a blush came to her face
and her pulse began to race
as he found her hidden places down below

she licked his earlobe then began to nibble
he could feel her hot breath mixed in with the dribble
that escaped her shining lips as
she gyrated with her hips and
then began to firmly grip him down below

slowly running his soft fingers through her hair
he could hear her moan and see her nostrils flair
she was breathing hot and hard as
all her clothing she discarded
revealing closely guarded secrets down below

they now moved into a lover's hot embrace
and passionately kissed each other's face
her perfume was so heady
he could see that she was ready
to get both hot and sweaty down below

they tore off all the clothes that they still wore
that then landed in a heap across the floor
with mutual satisfaction
they now made the full connection
and both sighed as passion took them down below

their thirst for one another needed slaking
the mattress on the bed quite soon was shaking
as they moved in time together
wishing this could last forever
and he dreamt she'd never leave him down below

the beast with two backs now hove into view
the kind that only happens when there's two
in a passionate embrace who
hold each other face to face to
try and raise the human race from down below

there's a moral to this sort of rude(ish) tale
there's always more than what's been writ that I can tell
but here is not the place and
I've no wish to fall from grace so seek out
for yourself what takes place down below

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Saturday tomorrow. Lie in, Yay!!

 

ooh xxxx

 

Today's offering is an acrostic poem so find out what the first letter of each line is then read downwards to find the phrase.


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Tis Was (acrostic)

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Today it's the weekend so let's all have a shout
open the windows and let it all out
don't let work make you moody and fill you with doubt
and leave you feeling like you're all worn out
you can still have fun that's what life's all about

if the week days still haunt you and try to get you down
surprise them with a sunny smile and not a frosty frown

Saturday is here, so let's go out and have a beer
and a takeaway as we come home from town
then tomorrow morning we can have a lie in
under duvets we've pulled right up to our chins
relax and stay all day in our bed clothes
don't rise until your thumping headache goes
and then it's time for breakfast, perhaps some tea and toast
you'll soon be much more lively and it shows

Wearing a smile is what we should all do
everyone you're with should wear one too
and if we shout loud enough making a fuss
raising the roof till the world hears of us

and we raise all our voices to lift all our spirits

showing the world that we can all have fun
maybe those who hear our shout will want to join
in the loud celebration of every weekend
loving the time that we're all free to spend
enjoying our days till they come to an end

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The full phrase of course was "Today is Saturday Wear a smile" which when abbreviated is "Tis Was". The name of one of the best programmes ever shown on TV!