Tag Archives: doggerel

‘Tis the voice of the whinger

 

Winter comes but once a year
Days of darkness soon to bring
Weather cold and storms so drear
Blessed respite brought by spring

But too soon it then gets hot
Summer days we’re bathed in sweat
Autumn’s next as like as not
Mists and storms to make us wet

Now it’s bloody winter come
Starts the cycle once again
Constant change, my brain’s gone numb
Each new season’s such a pain

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Freelancing in a swimsuit

Newgale beach

Working as a contract paralegal
has components in its favour,
and factors that are
unfavourable to some people.

If a way-off journey
and pleasure in your work life
is what would swimsuit you the very best,
freelancing may very well be
an awesome option for you!


I don’t want to bemoan the quality of spam these days but I find that very few live up to the standards I look for in found poetry. This is a tolerable exception

Apportioning blame

The quality of spam is much declin’d.
It droppeth as the state of public discourse
Upon our eyes and ears is daily ‘smirched.
It blasteth him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it ill becomes
The thronèd tweeter in his office,
Whose textspeak shows the force of ignorant power
(No attribute to awe and majesty)
Wherein doth sit his wanton spiteful thoughts.

But spamming sits below this septic sway;
It is embedded in the hearts of those
Who think to embody the soul of wit itself;
Their online power resembleth trolls’
Whose cruelty seasons hate.

Continue reading

Rapier wit

crosswordblank

If ever forced to try out swordplay
I’d fail to be a Cyrano.
And as for impro wordplay,
expecting puns? Oh, sirrah, no!

Clash of steel best fitting crossed swords
(whether epées, foils or rapiers),
flash of real wit suiting crosswords
(often met in broadsheet papers):

all would go from bad to worse
(same as when I’m writing verse).
I’m as like to win a duel as
write a gem fit for a jeweller’s.

Rhyme without reason

catandfiddle

Hey diddle-diddle
Come read me my riddle
Sing hickory dickory dock
For down came a spider
A gossamer glider
And landed on Bo Peep’s blue frock

This creature so lowly
She brushed off real slowly
Then played on her didgeridoo
She charmed not just creatures
But parsons and preachers
Who featured in France’s Who’s Who

Her sheep were not fazed
For they grew fat and grazed
Till a wolf with a weasely grin
Slipped the sheep, plus a goat,
Past his jaws down his throat,
By the hairs on his chinny chin chin

The spider then teased
The old wolf till he sneezed
Who then coughed up sheep, plus the goat,
And a cat with a fiddle, a rope round its middle,
Attached to a lifebelt and boat

So now ends my riddle
Puss played on its fiddle
And Bo Peep her didgeridoo
I hope you find pleasing
My rhyme without reason
Au revoir, tally ho, toodle-oo!

wolf

Today Was

mist

Today Was

Monday was Hug-an-Atheist Day
but I found that my arms
couldn’t reach all the way
round my body

Tuesday was National Book Lovers Day
but I missed it
I was too busy
reading in bed

Next came International Xenophobia Day
and I spent all Wednesday
just hating
myself

Thursday was National Paradox Day
but it took me till nighttime
staying in bed
to puzzle it out

Friday was Who Gives A Damn Day
and I decided to do
just that and go
back to bed

Saturday was the thirteenth
day of the month
and my luck
just
ran
out

Sunday was the seventh day
when God rested

Who can argue with that?