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.
Things come in threes: he’s about to drop her off at the shops when he realises he’s left his phone at home, so can’t liaise about where and when to meet up.
Next, after he’s filled up the car with petrol, he discovers his wallet is in his other man-bag. At home.
After some frantic running around the money problem is solved when he spots her coming out of a shop. But later, returning from a visit to the local library, he finds his everyday glasses are no longer on his nose — and the library isn’t open for another two days.
“Is it nearly time for the pillow over the head?’ she murmurs, sultrily. And so it begins.
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!
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
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
Sunday was the seventh day
when God rested
Who can argue with that?
« : 0 ♦ o : »
“And very long …”
“… could it be previous to …”
“… THREE-DIMENSIONAL printers
can make use of several elements
and therefore are of satisfactory power
to permit users …”
“… for you to make their particular hand gun…??”
“… it might probably be performed …”
“… currently company desires to place the areas together …”
“… I’m afraid the actual irony
of THREE-DIMENSIONAL making
needs to be planned along with …”
“… the tree-hugging, good-for-the-earth features…”
Found poetry from a Nike Max spam (we’re told “pas cher” but, frankly, do I care?) which seems to resemble scraps of overheard conversation — rather in the way these spams are put together to try to get past filters, unsuccessfully in this case
from early childhood
conditioned to see faces
of people, in things
The Canada goose likes to wander
To sites far from way over yonder
From seas off Newfoundland to Europe it’s bound and
Once here looks for stream, lake and pond.
Er, why leave lands to fly over water?
It’s water that ought to support her!
It’s proved of great use as resource for the goose
And also resource for the gander.
But I’m told there’s no need to migrate:
We’ve long known that it’s grass that they ate.
Where there’s grass there is home — there’s no reason to roam —
Just a spot to go eat, swim, laze and mate.
Canada geese with goslings, Great Chesterford, Essex
Beginning with this post the blog features a short series of posts about birds, many of them reposts. A few subsequent reposts will cover a period of house-moving: normal service will be resumed as soon as possible!
no dead body parts
or hairs from the only cat
allowed in the house
cat yowls at the window
it’s time to be fed?
our daughter interprets
“I hate you!” she said!
I once met a man who was in a trance.
As I walked up to him he just did a prance.
When I asked him “Oh why?” he just uttered a sigh
and said, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t Riverdance”
“Has Medusa a terrible stare?”
Yes, her glare means farewell if you dare
try to risk a fair fight,
for you’ll freeze at first sight!
And the eyes! And the snakes in her hair!
“I just knew as I rode over water
that in combat I should give no quarter,
so I kept my eyes peeled
when I looked in the shield
and I cut off her head as I fought her!”
“But I never saw severed-head djinni,
whom I popped in a sack, what a meanie!
What to do with said hag
whose head’s now in a bag?
Why, I’ll gift it to Pallas Athene!”
Said the goddess, “Why give it to me?
I have powers enough, can’t you see?”
“Well, all girls have a thing
for jewellery and bling…”
“Woah, just stop there, you young MCP!”
“No, listen, you’ll like what I say!
On your breastplate or shield it can stay.
It’ll work like a charm
your foes to disarm,
do your work as you rest and you play!”
So that’s why she wears a Medusa,
a fearsome old terror producer!
“I’m now justly famous
for combat, the same as
for wisdom, so thanks, Perseus, sir!”
a summer make