Regulation Jollity
What can this madness be ?
Say what ? April Fools ?
Ah yes, the day of anarchy,
Though strictly by the rules.
The toying with insanity,
The jesters’ feast of ridicule,
The PG-safe profanity,
The smirking after school.
Oh, what a rictus parody,
Such clever-clogs hilarity –
Such silly lies and naughty fibs,
And pointy elbows in the ribs,
Hee-hee-ho-hum-hee.
Well, don’t I feel a tit,
And there was I expecting wit –
I guess the joke’s on me.
The Deep State of Fear
First it was the Devil and his minions beseiging us,
And then it was the Cath’lics and the Pope –
After them the Masons with their fingers in the pies,
And then the Jews would steal away all hope –
And don’t forget the Communists, the baby-eating Communists,
To polish up the ever-slipp’ry slope –
Today’s we blame the media, tomorrow blame the nanobots,
But do we ever blame ourselves ? Hell, nope !
Piratez-Moi
If you like me – use me, take me,
Pass me on and make me fly.
If you hate me – change me, break me,
Set me right or let me die.
Eulogies
1.
At sorrowed times like this, I’ve heard it said
That mem’ry is the living of the dead –
So when I find I dwell too long a-while,
I force myself to call to mind your smile.
2.
Not the chance unmet,
Not the promise broken…
This alone do I regret –
Words left unspoken.
3.
I never thought this day would call
When I stand here and you lie there –
Of course, our time comes to us all,
It’s entropy, and only fair.
I knew it too, down deep below,
By grace of fate and rule of thumb –
I knew some day you’d have to go,
Yet never thought that day would come.
Ancient & Modern
To tell the future we were here,
To tell our names and what we think,
What gods we praise and tribes we fear,
What bread we bake and wine we drink –
That we do more than just hunt deer
And gather fruits for year on year,
But proudly harvest grain for beer !-
Then build in stone, and write in ink.
Too many cultures vanish, gone,
Because they left nothing behind –
They were forever moving on
And left no footprints in the mind
But others carved and others built,
And others wrote in soot and gilt,
So we might know who worked the silt –
Because their names were proudly signed.
Gordianwort
Knotweed, yes-weed,
Garden-in-a-mess weed,
Big-leaves, red veins,
Sprinting down the old lanes.
Upstart, groundswell,
Settled-in all too well,
Regrowth, nine-lives –
Fattening the bee-hives.
Twenty Seconds
1.
Eeny meeny, counted Queenie,
Fingers one two three and four –
A fish alive and thumb makes five,
And on the other hand there’s more.
So rub-a-dub and squeeze and scrub,
And this little piggie wee wee wee
Index middle ring and little,
Pinkie perky owe-you-tee.
2.
Queenie went to market
To buy a bar of soap
She went to Deal and Margate,
And Cape Town on the Hope,
But a laundry-maid from Washington
Had bought up ev’ry crate,
So Queenie had to wash with none
But ashes from the grate.
3.
Queenie on her lone and only,
All her friends are all indoors –
They’re down with spots and chicken pox,
And tummy-aches and sores.
Queenie finds the streets are empty,
Like the swings and slides and stores –
They cannot come and play today,
They’ve all been through the wars.
The Land of Nod
Faith is like sleeping.
What dreams we conceive there
We always believe there,
Where no doubt may creep in.
But be not mistaken
By heavenly seemings
And wishful sweet-dreamings;
It’s time to awaken.
As Genesis 4:16 informs us, Nod is located on the East of Eden.
Fewer & Less
Actually, I think you’ll find,
For nouns of the countable kind,
We shouldn’t say there’s more at all
But manier bricks in mucher wall.
Immortal Remains
My mind I leave to science, to probe and to dissect,
To extract and to magnify each secret and regret.
To show up my ideas that I never got to note,
Or poems I was writing but I somehow never wrote,
Or stories for the telling that I never passed along,
Or maybe sweetest music for my never sung-out song.
Work swift with my ditherings, these children may yet make
An epitaph of dreams to be awoken at my wake.
Rhyming Couplets 