Author: Toastingfork

Not afraid to rhyme.

…But Then Again, Too Few To Mention

~ Toastingfork ~ Leave a comment
embarkation
Embarkation of St Ursula by Claude Gellée

…But Then Again, Too Few To Mention

I wonder how we might have met,
If I were not so shy and wet –
We may indeed have had a blast !
Ah well, the moment passed.
I was so young, I was so green,
I didn’t dwell on might-have-been –
The moment came, but then was gone,
And I was moving on.

I wonder what we might have thought,
If I had not adventure sought –
But on came life, so bright and fast,
And so the moment passed.
I was so young, so seventeen,
I had no time for might-have-been –
The cygnet must become the swan,
And soon be flying on.

I wonder if we might have laughed,
If I were not so brash and daft –
I set my lot before the mast,
And thus the moment passed.
I was so young, I was so lean,
I longed for now, not might-have-been –
My time had come to take the conn,
And I was sailing on.

I wonder if we might have sighed,
If only I were not a-stride –
But all the world was deep and vast,
And so the moment passed.
I was so young, I was so keen,
With time enough for might-have-been –
I searched for Zeus and Prester John,
Forever moving on.

I wonder what we might have found,
If I were not so onward-bound –
But dice were thrown and dye was cast,
And so the moment passed.
I was so young and so serene,
And put off thought of might-have-been –
So many sights to gaze upon
Meant I was moving on.

I wonder what we might have said,
If only I had stayed instead ?
We may have loved as beau and lass,
Or let the moment pass.
We were so young, my almost-queen,
So nearly and so might-have-been –
The chances danced, the summer shone,
But life was moving on.

Con Occhi Aperti

~ Toastingfork ~ Leave a comment
crimson king
In the Court of the Crimson King by Barry Godber – the subject of which is clearly just having a singalong.

Con Occhi Aperti

If I don’t close my eyes when I sing,
Don’t think that it means that I don’t mean a thing,
When all that it means is I don’t close my eyes.

It don’t mean I don’t know the words,
Or when comes the moment to harmonize thirds,
It don’t mean I’m frightened of botching the song,
By notching too low for the highs.
I’m just like the whole throng of songbirds,
Whose eyelid ain’t tightened and eyeballs are watching,
Whenever they sweet vocalize.
If I don’t close my eyes up to sing
It just means I don’t close my eyes.

If I don’t move my lips when I pray,
Then don’t get to saying I still must be praying –
I could just be thinking away.
If I don’t snap my fingers in time with the beat,
If I don’t nod my head and I don’t tap my feet,
Don’t think I don’t got it,
Or done gone and shot it,
If I keep my feelings discreet.

I don’t need to wring out no tears to sing out,
Cos weeping – that just ain’t my thing.
It just means, besides, that I don’t close my eyes,
When I don’t close my eyes when I sing.

The Verse That Goes Like This

~ Toastingfork ~ Leave a comment
cascade
Cascade by Jane Jones

The Verse That Goes Like This

This is the rhythm and this is the line
This is the poem that starts like this
This is the stanza and this is the metre
This is the terminal-tonal repeater

This is the engine and this is the spine
This is the beat and it drives like this
This is the tempo and this is the timing
This the feminine method of rhyming

These are the syllables – see them combine
These are the feet and they march like this
These are the dactylic dactyls all chasing
This is the pittering-pattering pacing

This is the rhythm and this is the line
This is the poem that stops like this
This is the build-up and this is the pending
This is the climax and this is the ending

Hello Aeronautic

~ Toastingfork ~ 1 Comment
flying vee

Hello Aeronautic

Astride your Flying Vee,
You beckon me
To step right up and climb aboard –
The bass is thrubbing low,
It’s time to go,
Ignition with your power-chord.
At once we lose the crowds
To walk on clouds,
As smoke comes billowing beside –
You swoop me low and high,
We are the sky,
We buckle-up and take the ride.

Musical AI version generated by Suno.com – find more of them over here.

Necessary Narcissism

~ Toastingfork ~ 2 Comments
omnia
Omnia Morte Cadunt by Barthel Bruyn

Necessary Narcissism

Yeats ?  I’m better than him, any day !
Shakespeare ?  Kipling ?  Take them away !
Wordsworth ain’t worth a word, nor a letter –
Betjeman, ha !  Bet you meant to be better.

Sure, they have moments – as do I, if you only knew –
But it’s only their moments forever retold and adored.
I could write beauty, should it suit me – and it does !, and I do !
But it’s always their words get remembered, and my words ignored.

To tell the truth, I’d always hoped I could have loved them all instead,
But then they never wrote the lines I wished and needed to be said,
And so it fell to me to please myself with what I couldn’t find,
And that is why it’s only I who sparks my picky, prickly mind.

Oh, they all have moments, and I cling to these for dear love –
That just for once they get me – when they get me right and get me good !
I need these, only ten times more so – scattered crumbs are not enough –
Why must I hack my own damn verses just to feel I’m understood ?

Perhaps I over-dramatise a little, make too much a fuss,
But surely we’ve all felt at times abandoned, like we’ve missed the bus –
They make such lofty claims of how they speak for us, these sacred arts,
Yet often fail so mis’rably to touch us in our hungry hearts.

Sure they have their moments – as do I !  Ah, but you’ll never know.
I wouldn’t care, if only you could steal my thoughts and set them free.
I know I have some beauty, somewhere – Ah, forget it, let it go…
If only I could love them as you love them – but it ain’t to be.

Yeats ?  I’m better, when we’re both said and done !
At least, to my audience of one.

White Knowledge

~ Toastingfork ~ Leave a comment
raven foot
Common Raven Foot by Glor

White Knowledge

Hey, have you heard the news ?
It turns out ev’ry single bird,
From ducks to crows to cockatoos,
Is really just a dinosaur !
I bet you never knew before !
Oh, I guess you’ve heard…

Well, of course you have, I guess…
We all have – hey, we ain’t naive.
Some facts, it seems, we all possess,
They’re quotes that ev’rybody knows –
Apparently, it’s one of those,
Like, ‘sharks must swim to breathe’.

Like how Brazil and Timbuktoo
Have split apart and drifted.
The jigsaw that’s too-good for true,
Is really true !  And the world is round,
In space our screams won’t make a sound,
And the stars have slowly shifted.

Or how without a pinch of salt,
We’d all be quickly dead.
But sodium and chlorine halt
Our welfare quicker, if we dined
On each alone – but when combined,
We’re kept alive instead.

We know all this, we’ve known for years –
It’s just some stuff we know.
It’s been so long between our ears,
We’ve let it grow mundane –
If we forgot and learned again,
Our minds would surely blow.

But hey, not ev’rybody knows,
We all had to be told.
So someone had to first disclose
That farting fungus rises bread,
Or knocking protons out of lead
Will turn it into gold.

So someone has to spread the word,
And we could be the ones !
For someone, somewhere hasn’t heard,
And we could get to cast the spell,
And see their wonder as we tell
Of how we’re made from suns !

Us Too ?

~ Toastingfork ~ Leave a comment
witch trial
A Witch Trial by Joseph Baker

Us too ?

The accusations may be true,
Although we know we’ll never really know,
Because they’ll never come to court –
So round and round the rumours flow.
Is it slander ?  Is it exposé ?
We guess, but cannot know for sure,
Though plenty tell us yes or no,
And brand the sinners from the pure.
Some will castigate victims,
Sniffing lies or madness in their act –
But others join the critical mass,
Until the fatally-named are publicly sacked.

But us ?  We must decide –
To believe or to ignore ?
There’s plenty point the finger,
And there’s plenty keep the score.
But are they not still innocent
Until beyond a reasoned doubt ?
Or are we so convinced
That unproved testimony carries clout ?
Is this then justice by the mob
That surely always ends in tears ?
Or are we now, collectively,
The jury of their peers ?

Either we’re waking up to reason,
Or else witches are in season.

Squatters

~ Toastingfork ~ Leave a comment
plughole

Squatters

A year ago they built this flat,
And only I reside herein.
So how precisely is it that
In just one year, my welcome mat
Has ushered all these spiders in ?
I’m not allowed to keep a cat,
But pets a-plenty hide and spin.

Have they blown-in as eggs so soon,
Or spiderlings on silk baloons ?
Or hitched a ride upon a rat ?
(I really hope it isn’t that !)
Or did they creep up ev’ry stair
I’m on the seventh floor, you know !
I’m sure they’re here – their webs say so !