Peasblossom, Cobweb, Moth & Mustardseed by Rosalind Lyons
Sparkle
Glint all you want, you spangle, you sequin, We won’t hear the photons you sing – Your careless and moment’ry manner of speaking Is nothing but corporate bling. Your beauty is deadly, you tinsel, you glitter, You’re nothing but plastic that shines – You shimmer undimmed in the undying litter Of downfall that’s dressed to the nines. But it isn’t your fault, your glimmers, your flashes, How can we not light to your smile ? If the end of the world has such radiant ashes, At least we will go out in style !
Diablophis & Ceratosaur by Julius Csotonyi. The former is exiting through the orbit and curling around the lacrimal bone (which looks like it ought to obstruct the vision of the eyeball behind, but I guess not…)
Canis lupus canis
Wolves, it must be said, Make a rubbish pet – They’re far too wild and free. So get a husky instead, If you want to get That echo of prehistory. And the malamutes as well Have the tundra feel, And even alsatians at a squint – Most laymen cannot tell Which ones are real, They’re built to the same blueprint.
But for all dogs look like wolves, With their shaggy coats In black and white and grey – They’ll act like dogs, not wolves, Won’t rip the throats Of our toddlers when they play. Our forbears spent many tens Of thousands of years, To breed-out the threat in the growl. To be our deceptive friends With the upright ears, Who will never bite, but can still howl.
Note that a husky is no more closely related to a wolf than is a pekanese or a dachshund. It’s true that huskies can still interbreed with wolves, but again this is true of all dogs (logistics notwithstanding…).
The Buddhists believe in the hungry ghosts, Who need to feed – So paper models of modern life are burned, To sate their greed. Good to know that the heavenly hosts Are capitalists, Hording the hell-money they never earned In their undead fists.
Whyever are woodpeckers Logged by how they’re spotted ? Why are we such checkers Of how many lots we’ve totted ? And is the greater-spotted greater In the number of its spots ?, Or is its name a commentator On the quality of dots ? Or is each polka such a size, They’re practic’ly uniting ? Or are the spots our searching eyes, Recording ev’ry sighting ?
Since woodpeckers are more likely to be heard than seen, perhaps it’s a reference to Spotify…?
A chain is an intermittent cable, Links half-full of air, Excluding weight, whenever able, Just enough to keep it stable – But chains have noise enough to spare, When dropped upon the table, Or creaking swings, or armour-wear, Or rattled in a dungeon liar.
Jack Frost and Jack Thaw, Mortal enemies – Fighting over water drops In air and stone and trees. Jack Frost gets in early, But then Jack Thaw wins the day, But once the Sun has set, we see Jack Frost come out to play.
Ev’ry cherub has a good side, Has a cute and blond-curled nonesuch, Muted-trumpet, harp-soft-touch. But deep within, they surely hide A grinning, sharp-horned, prong-tailed whiplash, Bass-drum-beating, cymbal crash.
The truth is, in ev’ry Gabriel, A Lucifer is also present – Ready, should things get unpleasant… But likewise, in the darkest Hell, In ev’ry Beelzebub in town, A Michael waits to calm things down.
Musical AI version generated by Suno.com – find more of them over here.
That subtle hint of rosemary, That teasing tang of thyme, Where parsley peps with a pleasing edge And fennel venerates our veg. The wisdom of the sage is free To sing the zing of lime, As basil dances on our tongues, And spearmint sweetens-up our lungs.
But herbs in all their subtlety Are pinched-off in their prime – Just swamped beneath the mono-taste With which are dished are debased As cooks commit with careless glee A culinary crime Of blanding soups and stews and rice With boring bucketfuls of spice.
When does a walk become a hike ? When does a saunter start to stride ? Upon how many trails must I strike Before I get to the other side ? When does a trek become a wander ? When does a road not lead to Rome ? Upon how many paths must I ponder Before I get to go back home ?
Rhyming Couplets 