Aug 31, 2010


takes cue
for walk round
the green baize bed. 
 Prowls. Ponders. Crouches. Lies
down. Aims. Squints. Aims. Gets
up. Taps cue on cushion. Points 
at the blue. "Oh Nooooo!" A little
blob of chalk! "Let's keep our balls clean, ref!"
He's on a one-four-seven! Fouls first red!

The poetic form "etheree" has been defined elsewhere.  More demanding than it looks, because one must be able to count as well as think of the right words.  Doesn't HAVE to be centered, but in this case the shape is a bit like the wooden triangle that the red balls sit in at . . . . Oh, Forget it!

Aug 29, 2010

More Lifestyle Advice

Never play the trumpet right after taking a laxative.

Aug 25, 2010

The Poetry Bus Rumbles Forth Again!

This week, Chiccoreal is driving the Bus, asking us to extemporise on the First Thing We Think of When Waking, or the First Tune That Comes into Our Heads. (Mrs.Trellis has offered to award double points for combining both prompts into a single Musical Extravaganza.)

My morning tune is here, or here, or here.  It's well known and just right for adding Silly Words . . .

Waking with Music

I wake . . . to find my underpants have vanished.
Where can they be? (He'll look and see.)
And fur . . .ther, from the bedroom I've been banished.
Oh, woe is me! (Yes, woe is he!)
Last night . . . I set out early for some drinking,
but got home late. (Inviting fate!)
No doubt . . .  I knew what Dearest would be thinking.
She won't be told. (He's far too old!)

Chorus 1.
So I found she'd locked the bedroom door.
Cried "Try sleeping on the kitchen floor!"
It's such a shame, I'm not to blame,
the bus I hoped for never came!
Pleading was no use,
I just got more and more abuse.

So here . . . I lie, still half asleep and weary.
My back is sore. (There's worse in store!)
My eyes . . . all bloodshot, terminally bleary
feel full of grit. (He's full of s**t)
She would . . . n't even let me get my jarmies.
It's just not fair! (Why should she care?)
My fro . . . zen botty, legs and both my arm-ies
are in the nude! (How very rude!)

Chorus 2
To recap . . . my underpants have gone,
can't recall where last I had them on.
What's this I hear? She's drawing near!
"Goodmorning, Dear . . . why do you leer?"
"You've got them on your head again!"
"Why . . . so they are!  I can explain . . . ."

Aug 19, 2010

Magpie Tales#28

This week, Willow prompts entrants with another picture . . . 

She Counts Her Toes

at either 
end. She gets as
far as eight and then
cries "Help! Someone has pinched
my pinky toes! Have they gone
down the drain or up the faucet?
Perhaps they both went walk-about when
I was asleep just now. What a nuisance!
Perhaps I'll count from the right once again.
That little piggy went to market.
That little piggy stayed at home.
Next little piggy ate roast beef.
Next little pig got none.
This little pig cried
'Wee-wee! Wee-wee!'
PLEASE, pigs! Not
in my,
  bath . ."

(Form: Double Etheree.   Verdict: Very Silly)

Please Help Mrs.Trellis

She came across the following out in Blagland . . . oops, sorry in Blogland. She will award a minimum of 500,000 points to any blogger who can tell her what it means. And you know what points from Mrs.Trellis mean . . .
"Artists in literature, fine art and music affect their audiences’ awareness of possibilities in cultural change through their use of iconic realism by representing concepts in need of transformation. The study of iconic realism offers an exploration of semiotic theory and iconic structures within the arts."

Aug 17, 2010

Microfiction Monday #44

Microfiction Monday needs 140 characters devoted to this character
Theme . . . .

Variation 1
"What's up Sir Knight, hanging about outside yer TinTent?"
"I washed it. It would dry better if I could see how to turn it inside-out."
(140 characters inc. spaces)

Variation 2
Enter Hamlet, in full armour:
Hamlet.  "To pee or not to pee, that is the question."

Variation 3
"What's that tin thing, Daddy?"
"It's the Sealed Knot Society's portaloo, son."

Variation 4
"Oh, what can ail thee, Knight-at-Arms, alone and palely loitering, bollock naked outside thy TinTent?"
"Forgot the entry password, innit!"
(136 characters. Apologies to John Keats)

Variation 5
Juliet:  "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?"
                       Romeo: "Locked in 'ere, you silly moo!  Run and get the tin-opener!"

Breakfast With Ginger

Somebody needs further training . . .

but I'm not sure it's the retriever . . .

Aug 15, 2010


. . .  for a bus ticket, prompted by the picture HERE


“You can’t see me!  I’m out of shot.
I’m a WiFi poet. I am not
in training for the Thames Boat Race
in that old punt. I like my Face
Book, Twitter . . all's grist to my mill.
Eight syllables per line. I will
throw off the pentametric yoke
that really has become a joke
in recent odes. But wait! ‘Ang on!
Go back . . that second line’s got nine!
And now I've lost my grip on rhyme!
That's it!  I’m rowin’ home.  Now, where
did I . . .  Yoohoo! . . . oars?  Are you there?
You're hiding! Stop your rowstick prank! 
Without you, on the river bank
I am self-stranded. Get a life
boat, quick. Wait! What’s that noise I hear?
A diesel engine drawing near!
What need have I of oars!  No fuss!
I’ll ride home on the Poetry Bus.”

Aug 12, 2010

Magpie 27

This short poem in honour of Magpie 27, should be sung "largo e doloroso" to a fairly well-known tune . . 

"Mind where you tread, the plumbing's on the blink.
See - water spurting underneath the sink.
You hold the flashlight, I'll look for the leak.
I've had to wear my wellies all this week"

"Oh, not again! Those pipes, so thick with rust
 finally snapped, the whole jingbang is bust!
 Rot and decay in bend and valve and T,
 no hot, no cold, no shower, no lavat'ry!"

Psssst . . . stuck for a tune?  Try "Abide With Me."

Aug 10, 2010

Some Limericks Won't Stand the Test of Time

A young beauty queen called Claire Voyant
whose bosom was ample, and bouyant
on the cat-walk one day
declared "Oh, I say . . .!"
(There's NO RHYME!  How very annoyant!)

Try again!

A young beauty queen named Claire Voyant
whose bosom was ample, and bouyant
said "Now I'll look a sap!
I've broken a strap!"
(There's no rhyme for 'brassiere' either)

Aug 9, 2010

Staying with the gardening theme (see post below this)

A prize winning gardener from Harrow
said "I don't want to damage my marrow.
And so when I go
To fair, fete or show
I need an upholstered wheelbarrow."

Aug 6, 2010


This NobelPrizeWorthy effort is in reponse to Magpie Tales Mag 26


"A waterin' can without a complete spout?  
However do you pour the water out?"

Now then, Doc, you're just being VERY SILLY!   Go down a different road, but stay with the watering-can . . .

There was a keen gardener called Ned
  whose children set fire to his shed.
  With one can of water
  he extinguished his daughter
 (Doc! Slow Down! I think you've misread.)

Aug 4, 2010

At the Digital Gift Shop

(Try it to the tune "I Gave My Love a Cherry.")

I bought our lass an iPhone so she could ring.
I gave our lad an xBox. It's just the thing.
I gave them both an iPod to surf the net.
And then I gave them iTunes. They're singing yet!

I treated them to iBooks. They like to read.
iPads, iMacs, iPhoto . .  meet ev'ry need!

I gave my wife an iRon.

That was about a month ago.  Haven't seen her since . . .

Aug 1, 2010

Verifying The Poetry Bus.

The task, admirably set by NANU, was to use a verification word or words in a poem.  So . .

On the Dangers of Whibal

Stanza Uno

Polsy (she's my neighbour's daughter)
Suped Centora to the water.
Alphyl, watching from the bank
Hid their zilacs . . whibal prank!
Those poor girls! He left them dising
left them with the river rising.
Just in time came Polsy's sister.
Threw a rope and saved their dister!
Both the girls were gridely grateful.
They said "Alphyl is ankeme hateful.
Whibal pranks! We could have drowned,
If Lystome had not been around!
So . . . in future, we girls shall
Avoid him, he's dasypygal!"

Stanza Due

Mrs.Trellis of North Wales
told me off in her eMails.
So, although is seems absurd
One blogcheck's an English Word!
Check them in your dictionairy.
One means "blessed(*) with buttocks hairy"

(*)  Or cursed.  Take yer pick.