Future Habitual
At some point in the future,
I would have laboured ev’ry day –
I would have gone to work and back,
Is what I would will say.
But further in the future,
I would have been retired by then
(But not yet will have go to God),
And I can would be looking back
And I will wondered yet agen
At how such phrases once will sounded odd.
The Future Habitual aspect is a clause of speech that linguists insist does not exist.
Succession
The President is dead.
Who gets the nuclear code ?
“I” said the Vice,
“I am the next in line,
For the order is precise
And this is my time to shine
A cool head and a steady load.”
But now the Vice is dead.
Who gets the nuclear code ?
“I” said the Speaker,
“I am the next in line.
All other claims are weaker
And are junior to mine.
I get to tread the royal road.”
But now the Speaker’s dead.
Who gets the nuclear code ?
“I” said the head of the Senate,
“I am the next in line.
For that’s how the framers pen it –
And their penmanship is fine.
Let it be said, I am bestowed.”
So now the matter’s put to bed,
He gets the nuclear code.
“Wait !” said the new head of state
“Who now is next in line ?
I must appoint a running mate,
A brand new Vice to guard the shrine,
To rule instead if I explode.”
“But hang on, boss” the new Vice said,
“Hand over the nuclear code.
For you are still a Senator,
And only acting next-in-line.
I’m number two, you’re number four –
I clear outrank you, so resign !,
Before the Feds reach panic mode.”
So, now all logic’s fled,
Best hide the nuclear code…
The Curse of the Couplets
A minister’s office. There is a knock and the Professor enters.
Minister
Ah, professor, good afternoon.
It’s really very good of you to see me quite so soon.
Professor
Oh, no trouble, Minister, no trouble at all.
I came the very minute that I first received your call.
Minister
Then let me bring you up to speed the problem facing here:
Something has been happening, and something very queer.
Something has affected quite the very way we speak,
It’s spread across the nation within only half a week,
It’s very hard to spot, of course, which makes it all the worse –
But each and ev’ry citizen has started talking verse.
Professor
But surely you don’t mean…
Minister
Alas, I rather mean I do.
Professor
But what then made you realise ?
Minister
(on intercom)
Ah, Bridget, tea for two.
(to Professor)
Oh, little things, just nagging doubts.
Professor
You thought you had some pests ?
Minister
We wanted to be certain, so we ran a batch of tests.
We’ve got our finest boffins out there looking for the source.
Professor
But why then did you turn to me ?
Minister
It’s time to alter course.
We need to find an antidote, we really can’t delay.
And that is why I called you in…
Bridget
(entering)
We’re out of Earl Grey.
Minister
Well never mind, well never mind, I’m sure this shall suffice.
Bridget exits.
Professor
I really can’t imagine I could give you sound advice.
Minister
But you’re our finest scholar, you must surely have some clue ?
Professor
Nothing at the moment, I’m afraid.
Minister
One lump, or two ?
Professor
But are you really certain that we’re talking all in rhymes ?
There hasn’t been a mention in the Telegraph or Times.
Minister
We’ve had to keep it hush-hush so as not to cause a panic.
Would you like a ginger-nut ? Don’t worry, they’re organic.
Of course, it isn’t fatal – no, the country’s not entombed –
It’s just so very curious…
Professor
We’re doomed, by God, we’re doomed !
Minister
Now not to be alarmist, or to overstate things grossly,
You’d never even know it’s there unless you listen closely
To the steady pitter-patter in the rhythm of each sentence…
Professor
We’re doomed, I say ! We must all pray, and beg the Lord’s repentance.
Minister
Professor ! Pull yourself together ! I need you now to think –
There must be something, anything, to save us from the brink ?
Professor
Wait ! There may be something…the problem is systemic.
Minister
The problem is we’ve staring at a bloody epidemic !
Professor
The problem is within the brain and its linguistic centre
Now, usually it’s very good at recognising…
Door knock
Minister
Enter.
Bridget enters and clears the tea things.
Professor
…the diff’rences in how we speak, but something has confused it.
Bridget
Shall I clear the paper, too ?
Minister
I haven’t yet perused it.
Professor
We need to shake it up again, with something quite sublime:
By ending ev’ry sentence with a word that doesn’t rhyme !
Now ev’ryone’s aware that there is nothing rhymes with orange…
Bridget
I’ve contacted the builders to come and fix the door hinge.
Professor
Another word that comes to mind – there’s none to find with chimney.
Bridget
That Watkins tries to feel my legs – he said I had a trim knee.
Professor
There must be more, there must be more – I’m sure we’re safe with plinth.
Bridget
That gift I need to buy your son – was it guitar or synth ?
I’ve called the milliners – your wife has found her trilby small.
Will there be something else ?
Minister
No thanks, I think that will be all.
Bridget exits.
Professor
There’s must be more examples, such as anxious, purple, month…
Minister
No rhyme, say you ? That can’t be true ! Why, surely there is…
There is…
Hah ! You’ve done it ! I’ve stopped rhyming. How can I ever thank you professor ? Your suggestion will save the country. Finally, we can stop the rhyme.
Professor
That’s alright, Minister. Any time.
Follow Your Nosings
Ev’ry staircase runs in two directions,
Even MC Escher’s –
Join midway – on a landing, say,
And we all must make selections –
Oh, the pressure !
Do we climb for the sky through the oculus eye ?
Or sink in the bowel of the gravity well ?
Perhaps it’s an endless trip round a Mobius strip,
To spiral-step forever.
Jacob’s dreams have gone to town,
As the stairs go up, but the stairs go down –
Descend today, and tomorrow we rise,
Or labour now for a future of ease.
Yet up is always hard on our thighs,
And down is hard on our knees.
Nothing with a Face
I won’t eat a creature with eyeballs to see,
Nor noses or ears will I hurt.
So that’ll be mussels and starfish for tea,
And sponges and worms for dessert.
Some Officers Have Coaches And Horses To Order About
Landau, take me down the lane.
Hansom, turn beyond the trees.
Phaeton, take me home again
By fifty-four degrees.
Ride a tangent from the mews
To the sign of the Hypotenuse.
Adjacent to the Octogon,
Opposite the bend in the strand,
For a measurable distance on.
Times by the four-in-hand.
Send a spyder, send a fly,
On a steeplechase by the root of pi.
Frontispiece
On the Inability of many Victorians
to adequately append to their Dissertations
such short and succinct titular Benamings
as would better serve their weighty Publications
without exposure to crucial Details
of sundry Devices and Plots thus delineated
by which the presumed Reader is disprivileged
and their subsequent Enpleasurement undersated.
Ping-Pong
Here’s a sing-song on playing ping-pong,
With a rat-a-tat-tat on the tic-tac-toe
With a whack and a smack and a snickersnack,
With a there and back to the come and go –
But the pitter-patter must clatter, I bet
When heard from the other side of the net.
Here’s a song-sing on playing pong-ping,
With a mi-re-doh to the swash and the swish,
With a tock-tick tock-tick clacker-click,
With a slow-slow-quick and a bosh-bash-bish,
With a fum-fo-fi-fee la-la-land –
But how does it sound if you play left-hand ?
Here’s a sing-ching on playing pong-pong
With a buckle-my-Schubert under par,
With a nee-nah nee-nah stick it up your jumper,
Baa-baa blast-off twinkle star,
With an eeney-meeny knees-and-toes –
But how does it sound if you’ve got no nose ?
Here’s a see-saw on Plato plink-plonk
With a yan-tan-tesseract mamma-me-and-you
With an all-for-one and a four-four-two,
A diddy-diddy-doo-da and lop-bop-be-doo
With an ella-menno-pee and a ringo-john-and-paul
But how does it sound from inside the ball ?
Here’s a *dok-dok* on playing *pat-a-pat*
With a *boing-boof-bok* and a *spit-spot-SPLAT*
Delay Pedal
Strike a note – an A – with a delay to fade away and underlay the next you play.
Strike a note – an E – and you will see how easily it echoes free within the key.
Now slide away and do you see how this delay shall carry me
Across the stay, the next, and three, till they decay in filigree ?
Trees in Threes
1.
Trees are nice and all,
But I feel I’ve already seen ‘em –
They’re big and fat and tall,
With not a conker between ‘em.
And they’re so brown,
So endless brown,
Except where the leaves have greened ‘em.
2.
I’ve spied these trees before
On the other side of the woods –
They’re taunting me, I’m sure,
With their secret brotherhoods.
They move about at night, I swear –
For how else did those trees get there ?
But when I question them, they just ignore,
And won’t give up the goods.
3.
Poplar black and willow white,
I think that I have got that right –
But easy to confuse them, each,
Like copper birch and silver beech.
