Darker Later
When I was young and fair as fair,
My mother sat me down
And warned me as she brushed my hair
To never pout or frown –
“It draws the sun from curl and frond
And clouds your golden crown.”
And lo ! I once was blond as blond,
But now I’m brown as brown.
The Golden Future
“Blondes to die out in two hundred years”
– Playgene
Blonds need blond and blond for blond,
They need two blonds together.
If blond and not-so-blond have spawned,
Their offspring sport whatever:
Some may get the full brunette,
And some may get the raven jet.
Unless they both are blond and blond,
It’s better not to bet.
But not-so-blond can still be blond,
Though blond that’s in disguise –
It lurks within their protein bonds,
If not their hair and eyes.
A secret code that never showed
But down the years is still bestowed,
Until – surprise ! – a newborn blond
Has donned the retro mode.
So look, if both your folks are blond
But only blond by halves,
Then out of their genetic pond
The trait is passed, so says the maths,
To three in four when said and done,
(Though only outward shown in one).
So more and more shall carry blond
Through countless dark-haired sons.
If blonds need blond and blond for blond,
Then blond and blond they’ll get.
In China, Congo, far beyond,
Their genes repay their debt.
Their folks may awe at kids so fair,
But they’re the ones who put it there…
So blonds need blond and blond for blond,
But blond lurks ev’rywhere !
Monaesthesia
The number one is many things:
The first, the last, a third of three,
But never red or cold or soft to me.
And as for feelings Monday brings
Like boredom, stress and starting new,
It’s never musk or Mendelssohn or blue.
My numbers do not stretch in strings
That always and precisely wind
In fixed meanders hanging in my mind.
And yet, for you each letters sings
As glad or cautious, salt or sweet.
To you, my view of life is incomplete.
How am I to love you back ?
My thoughts are elementalized,
My triggers compartmentalized,
And never transcendental accidentalized.
And you with yours all out-of-whack
With P’s as quartz and Q’s as jet
In ways I’ll never really get
When white is white, and only black is black.
I must admit, it kills me
When I think of how I’m blind
To the wiring of your mind,
And the way your neurons spill and slide.
But then again, it thrills me
When I think of how my touch
Can bring about so much besides,
With all your senses catching rides.
God Bless You !
With ev’ry atishoo,
Our souls are at issue –
Unless the Lord blesses it, quick !
But these days, we’re finding,
He needs the reminding
To come down and make us less sick.
So that’s why, I’m guessing,
We shout out a blessing
To keep us away from Old Nick.
But if we keep sneezing,
The Lord we ain’t pleasing –
We let in the Devil, our nose to be seizing !
Malodorous breezes
Are born on our sneezes
That mark the ill winds of demonic diseases.
We’d best stop our messing
And get to confessing,
To put our poor souls on the level –
Cos all of our sneezing
Is proof of our sleazing,
And putting-off prayer for the revel.
It’s better than evens
All sneezers are heathens –
Our allergies come from the Devil.
Our futures, by Moses,
Ain’t smelling of roses !
We can’t blow our sinning from out of your noses.
They don’t need our sneezes
Achoo-ing for Jeezis –
To stop a nose running, get down on our kneeses !
There’s some who say sneezing
Is just nature easing
The irritants stuck in our sinus –
And each unbeliever
Will call it hay fever,
And curse only willow and pinus.
Take honey for tea,
And vitamin C,
And pray for the rain, to bring dryness.
They think they’re so clever
With Science and Weather,
They think they can do without God altogether –
And when they get sneezes
And sniffles and wheezes,
They just pop a tablet, and quickly it eases.
They think they have answers
For hiccups and cancers
They think that their Science is all
But their days are dreaming,
And eyes that are streaming
Can’t see how their pride gets its fall.
So don’t be so cocky,
Their logic is rocky,
For God made the pollen so small !
But hold on a minute…
If Satan’s not in it,
Then ev’ry atishoo – it’s God who must bring it !
I guess that He teases
As much as He pleases
To bring out more “bless you”s, he brings on the sneezes !
Watching You Idle
I love the way you love to put
Your limbs to work on your behalf,
And use the top side of each foot
To gently stroke your other calf.
I love the way you interlace your toes
So absently,
But best of all, I love how no-one knows
But you and me.
I love the way you stretch and pull
Your sleeves, to burrow hands within
So all that shows beyond the wool
Are fingertips where cuffs begin.
I love the way you flex and click your thumbs,
And use the other eight for drums –
I love the way your body uses stealth
To exercise all by itself.
I love the way you use your eyes
To stare and stare and never see,
Until they catch you by surprise
By darting off quite suddenly.
I love the way they love to smoothly glide
And sometimes fly –
But best of all, I love the way they hide
When feeling shy.
I love the way you purse your lip,
And chuck your tongue, and breathe out slow –
And always lodge an apple pip
Within your teeth, and never know.
I love the way that ev’rytime you smile,
It has to build itself a while.
It’s not your body that I most approve,
But it’s the way you make it move.
These Eyes ain’t for Crying
The day that she left me
All cliches ran true,
And words like avow
And bereft and eschewing
Were bringing their heft
As their moment was due.
But I’m over them now,
And I’ve things to be doing.
The day that she left me,
All tears ran stains
That nothing could hide,
Not the beards of druids.
But now I’m more deft
At controlling my drains,
And so no salt is dried
By the theft of my fluids.
Psycho-Allergy
Peanuts will not kill me,
They just make me want to retch,
And chestnuts cannot choke me
But they sure can make me kvetch !
Coconuts are pussycats
That scratch my taste-buds raw,
And almonds leave me bitter,
Should one sneak into my maw.
Macadamies lack the proteins
That could send me into shock.
Cashew, beech and pecan – each
As puny as a hollyhock.
A pish upon pistachios,
Your toxins well withstood –
My shell is hard as hazelnuts,
My kernel strong as wood !
No nuts will ever crack me,
Be they pine, brazil or wall –
My body couldn’t give a fig,
My brain, though, hates them all !
Evolution Chant
I am an ape-man,
You are an ape-man,
Just like my great-great-granddaddy ape-man.
I am a monkey,
You are a monkey,
And so is the queen, her ministers and flunkies.
We lost our tails, we lost our fur,
We grew up bigger than we were,
We kept our hands and eyes and hips,
So we’re still monkeys to our pips.
One mill’yon, two mill’yon, three mill’yon, four –
Back in time, back in time, back to before.
I am a mammal,
You are a mammal,
We’re just like my great-great-grand-uncle Samuel.
I’m a reptilian,
You’re a reptilian,
Just like my great-great-third-cousin William.
We lost our scales, we lost our eggs,
We grew up with less-bandy legs,
We warmed our blood and changed our ears,
But we’re still reptiles to our gears.
One era, two eras, three ears, four –
Mill’yons and mill’yons of years by the score.
I’m an amphibian,
You’re an amphibian,
Just like a German, a Chinese, or a Libyan.
I am a swim-fish,
You are a swim-fish,
Just like our sisters, the curvy and the slim-ish.
We lost our gills, we lost our fins,
We grew up with our necks and chins,
We gained our lungs and lost some cones,
But we’re still fishes to our bones.
One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four –
Hundreds of mill’yons of years to explore.
I am a wiggle-worm,
You are a wiggle-worm,
Just like our brothers, who squiggle when they squirm.
I am a wet-sponge,
You are a wet-sponge,
Just like our neighbours, the blond and brunette ones.
We lost our universal cells,
We grew up bony, without shells,
We gained our teeth and gained our butts,
But we’re still sponges to our guts.
One eon, two eons, three eons, four –
Ages and cycles and epochs galore.
I am a germ bug,
You are a germ bug,
Just like the scorpion, the skylark and sea-slug.
I am a virus,
You are a virus,
Far enough back, and ev’rything’s a virus.
We lost our tiny little size,
We grew up big and strong and wise,
We may not think so anymore,
But we’re still microbes to our core.
One bill’yon, two bill’yon, three bill’yon, four –
Back in the days of the yoriest yore.
Feel free to change the opening lines to ‘ape-girl’ if you wish.
Ammonites & Moabites
Ammonites are ceph’lopods
With spiralling shells,
A bit like the nautilus
With gas-chambered cells –
But larger and groovier,
These kings of the ocean,
These chosen of Ammon,
These Jurassic movers,
These Cretaceous shakers –
In the Fathoms of Mammon,
From sea-beds to breakers,
Till the shark and the salmon
Cast out these apostles.
But there in the fossils,
Their statues awake…
Moabites are ceph’lopods
We’ve yet to discover
They’re out there, still buried,
In one rock or another –
And each slab we lever,
So hopes the believer,
May yet be inscribed
With this prodigal tribe:
A bit like a nautilus,
A bit like an octopus,
A bit unlike either.
And just like the ammonites,
They need us to free them –
We know not what they look like,
But we’ll know them when we see them.
The Pillars of the Earth
What is this power
That holds up cathedrals ?
That bring in the pilgrims,
And keeps out the gales ?
It isn’t lord Jesus,
Nor bishops and beadles,
It isn’t the faithful,
Nor relics and grails.
Forget all the masons
With stone tetrahedrals,
Forget all their chisels,
And braces and nails –
The answer is columns !
Those load-bearing needles,
Those orderly uprights,
Those masts without sails.
And the finest of columns,
So stately and regal,
Use marble from Purbeck
In multiple scales.
Now, wildlife in Purbeck,
From roe-deer to seagulls,
From rabbits to lizards,
From fishes to whales,
Are nothing compared
To her beasts without equal –
But who are these heroes ?
Well, there hang some tales…
For hidden in hedgerows,
There lurk her great people:
Like bees in her fields,
And yeasts in her ales –
But her mightiest creatures
Have built ev’ry steeple:
The lime in the limestone
That polish unveils –
For marble from Purbeck
That holds up cathedrals,
Is held up in turn
By the shells of her snails.
Rhyming Couplets 