Rhymes or Reason

Scatterday and the sun shone bright
Made me want to take up flight
They gathered on the beaches here
Today none had any fear
Now the night is here and dark
I wonder if they drink in the park

 

Last day of the month today. I'm surprised I've managed this far to keep writing more and more drivel, but keep writing it I do. Anyway, here's today's little ditty that has a nautical theme.

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Deep beneath the ocean waves
the mud stirs silent in the dark
leviathan becomes awake
it feels a hunger deep and sharp

soon rising on the swirling currents
it drifts aloft to smell the sea
and search for food it can consume
not just a snack will quell its need

so fish and seals are soon discounted
it feels vibrations deeper still
as whale and orca cruise above
it comes upon them from below

but as it closes on its prey
a new distraction clouds its mind
vibrations of a different shape
that pound its head from deep inside

for these emit from nothing living
nothing with a beating heart
where breath's imbibed through gills or blow hole
packed with muscle eyes and teeth

the unknown monster ploughs the deep
it courses through without a challenge
for nothing can devour it or
try to beat to ocean's floor

the huge but never seeing beast
that bends the water currents as
it pushes on through warm and cold
currents that sweep ocean depths

inhabitants that know their ocean
flee in panic when it passes
constantly it stays in motion
never sleeping never eating

leviathan can only watch
and wonder what this strange beast is
with giant hump upon its back
that has no eyes or mouth or teeth
so cannot battle with another
for the harvest of the sea

and so the two gigantic monsters
turn to go their separate ways
the submarine returns to port
leviathan slides silently away

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Back to school tomorrow, for some at least, and all the poor supporting staff that cater to their every need.

 

Brilliant addition as always BJ. XXX

 

"New Moon, New Month, - the wheel doth turn,
A time of reflection, of what ones learned,
There's good and bad, - time takes its' toll,
Can break the heart, strip at one's soul,
- Though one can take this gauntlet, and
Strike back with resolve, - can make a stand,
Draw line in sand, and face the fear,
And vow to live, a better year"

 

March 1st today, and in my effort to become a better poet I read up about different poetry forms, types, etc. One I came across is the acrostic type. The way it works is that you have to read the first letter of each line going down and it spells out a word. So I thought I'd have a go, and here's what I wrote. In case you don't get it I'll put the acrostic words after the poem.

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Must I write this here
as though I felt good cheer
rare though it is for me to say
change is surely on its way
however we may wish it weren't so

1 cannot be quite so self assured
surely you can see that's quite absurd
to think you can defeat what must be fate

Above is an example you might see
created by none other than just me
reacting to a prompt from off a page
opened for to help me see the light
savoured by my intellect to write
this small verse of lines for your delight
in such a short and neverlasting time
cut through with solid meter and with rhyme

Perhaps I can try to make amends
open a new page to see what message that it sends
engage with others who know what to do and
memorise those deep embedded clues

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OK, so the clever ones will have seen the following; March 1st Acrostic Poem

See you tomorrow.

 

My mind is blank
But thanks BJ I just have no poem today

 

Candy Gal,

You don't need one.

Whatever you choose to write, and whenever you decide to do so is your choice, so please don't feel obliged to write stuff just because I have.

Don't forget that the main reason I post up everyday is because I made a committment to myself to do it, and as such I force myself to think of something new everyday. I thought it would get easier with time, but I'm beginning to think otherwise now, as subjects for my rhymes seem to be drying up. Still, I'll keep going as long as I can before the well dries up altogether.

 

Thesaurus is your friend. xxx

Beware the Ides of March
Look at the tides of March
They lash against the sand
But now are calm on land

 

Hello again, I've altered the acrostic poem a bit, so here's the new version. I think it flows better and adheres to the meter better than the one I posted earlier.

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Must I write these thoughts of mine just here
as though I felt life full of morning cheer
rare though it is for me to boldly say
change must come it's surely on its way
however we may wish it would go away

1 cannot be quite so self assured
surely you can see that's quite absurd
to think you can defeat what's been deferred

Above is an example you might see
created by none other than just me
reacting to a page prompt I'll agree
opened for to help me see the light
savoured by my intellect to write
this small inviting verse for your delight
in such a short and neverlasting time
cut through sometime with meter and with rhyme

Perhaps I ought to try to make amends
open a new page to see what message that it sends
engage with others who know what to do and
memorise those deep embedded clues

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See you tomorrow.

 

Well, it's March 2nd today and I couldn't think of what to write, so this evening's poem is a little shorter than most. I'm hoping I can find something good to write about tomorrow.

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March has started, so where's the bang
I guess it must still be a lamb
but when the wind blows open doors
then we'll hear the lion's roar
for Spring will spring in twenty days
and blow the Winter clean away

soon the olden New Year's day
will mark the new financial year
the flowers show their sunward face
and April then steps up a gear
the growing season has begun
as shoots emerge to feel the Sun

in days the grass has started growing
blossoms turn the trees pale pink
daffodils yellow trumpets showing
and all it seems within a blink
the sun now rises with the larks
the sap is rising all around
in woods and even city parks
the fruits of Winter's rut abound

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Not very good I know, but I'll try harder tomorrow, promise!

 

They are always good. Xxxx

 

A bit late tonight because I've been busy doing engineering stuff all day. This one's about one of nature's little wonders, gloworms, and the fact that in two or three places in the world every year in June or July the males all gather in one place and flash in sync with each other instead of whenever they feel like. This give an effect similar to watching Christmas lights that flash together in a tree, but the spectacle is put on in late Spring, early Summer.

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Gloworms

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The flickering light ignites the night
the strobing darkness hurts the eye
when from the shadows spring the bright
and warming glows that elicit sighs
of wonder and of great delight
from all who see them in the sky

the tiny insects flash together
why we never really know but
when they do it's one of nature's
greatest shows they can put on
when mating season comes around
across the great and wild unknown
the males all gather in one place to
show the females where they are

but only in two or three locations
does this yearly show appear
where all the males will flash together
as though the trees have Christmas lights
but in the Spring and not in Winter
does this yearly show take place
and when it does the tourists flock
to film the lights from God's own grace

for mysteries like this abound
I sometimes wonder why we fear
such things that nature spreads around
to give us cause to wish to gather
in one place to wait and see if
whales or gloworms will perform
their party tricks for us tonight

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See you tomorrow.

 

love it xxx

 

March Fourth, or march forth? Which should it be? I was going to use the pun about marching forth, but couldn't think of anything to write, so instead I did a poem about numbers and people's obsession with them.

Yer 'tis!

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The magic of numbers

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March fourth, May fifth, June sixth and July seventh
have something in common which I won't hide
they're all in the first line of this poem
so ponder that when you have time

the magic of numbers for all to see
when you pick them they could be
the lotto numbers that you choose
to make you rich one day perhaps
so let the numbers bubble up
they'll tell of gains and handicaps
just like tea leaves in your cup

boil your kettle and brew your tea
then pour to find what fate has chosen
if you want to keep your options
your beverage should now be frozen
then in future you can reopen
the archives showing the path you chose
so you can recall when important
your motives that are now disclosed

numbers can guide you through your life
they're not just random in the ether
when arranged in a certain order
it seems in truth they can deliver
if sometimes for worse and some for better
then what are the odds we should consider?

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Just think, tomorrow never comes! Because when it does it becomes today, and is no longer tomorrow. Doh! my brain hurts.

 

Remember this BJ.
Frixday is tomorrow.
A day for spreading love and kisses. X

 

Sorry Candy Gal, but the poem below is something of a rant about society today. I started it with just the idea of carpet slippers being all warm and cozy, but then it grew out of my control into a raging monster of anger and angst. So anyway, you've been warned, read it or leave it at your discretion.

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Lost times

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Cold outside but warm in here
sit here in my favourite chair
cup in hand I watch the box
carpet slippers warm my feet
looking at the programme sets
of the England I knew in years gone by
I feel a sense of loss sometimes
and others I just want to cry

for all I knew when I was young
has now been thrown into the flames
of white hot progress
or so it seems
all that was good about those times
is now considered old and bad
and though some bits still seem to chime
I find I still feel loss and sadness
for those fun times we had back then
before the world was turned upside down

when fashions were daft even to us
but some of them spoke of elegance
when despite the beginnings of fluid gender
girls and boys dress was still distinctive
boys in platforms, baggies and tanks
girls in their floral Laura Ashley dresses
with flowing long and windblown tresses
soft curves tempting brash young men
to copy our heroes Bowie and Stewart
I well remember them

as they preened and strutted out their stuff
on the dancefloor with feathered hair
like a peacock's shining plumage
flying in all directions every which where
as they threw themselves into the beat
till they fell off starred and spangled
brightly leather clad platformed feet

gosh those things were so hard to walk in
I nearly broke my ankles but I did enjoy the height
although sometimes it gave me a bit of a fright
to see things as I'd never seen them
being as short as I normally am

but all that's gone now the new world's here
where people no longer enjoy a beer
down the pub with all their mates
but now have wine or healthy spritzers
to slake their thirst as trends dictate
and pie and chips is out the door
now replaced by fancy plates
of raw fish curry and maybe more
exotic dishes from the East
a veritable moving feast

attitudes are now so false and plastic
that genuine talent no longer matters
if you can smile to laptop cameras
persuade the people you're the source
of all they want to see and wear
then you'll be an internet star of course

one of the new influencers
shaping teenage fashion and ideas
to suit big business and corporate suits
channeling young minds into ever deeper ruts
where college no longer challenges you to think
but now lets you just feel safe and sink

into a warm and mushy soup
of set ideas and attitudes
dictated by those in the know
the power movers with their own agendas
who train you to dance like puppets to their
dark and political wrapped out tunes

so you sit and play with fluffy puppies
while you imagine yourself as a star to be
staring at your laptop camera and
strutting your stuff for all to see

thank goodness I'm not young today
is all that I can find to say
the latest snowflake generation
has no idea of what will hit them
when the rug gets pulled away
with the NHS sold to the highest bidder
they'll have to work till their dying day

I just worry for my children
who must live on in this locked down world
after I've put all my toys away
and packed my suitcase
I'll be on my way
to God's waiting room and there I'll stay
till I'm called to go and then I'll pray
that I've made a good impression
I don't want to go to a Hellish prison
but instead wish to end my days
in the sunshine of the other place

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I hope it's warmer tomorrow, I might be in a better mood then, and perhaps I'll write something light-hearted, or even funny? Who knows what tomorrow brings, eh? We can only sit and wait, but with an Irish Whiskey and lemonade to help the long hours pass.

 

yOU poured your heart out there BJ. XXXX

 

Brilliant mate .

That is exactly how I felt and drove me into a depression .

I miss the socialising on the Saturday night out and I know others as well as myself who are struggling .

But at last the end is in sight and will happen

 

Saturday today, and Saturday's child works hard for a living. Good job I wasn't born on Saturday then wasn't it? So I can laze around all day without doing a thing, well I can now I'm retired.

Anyway, this isn't getting us very far is it? So here's today's ode, and it's a little more light-hearted than yesterday's one.

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The Ravens of the Tower

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"The time has come!" the raven cried "to purloin golden rings!"
and with that spoken aim he tried to spread his coal black wings
but though he tried until he sighed the wings could not be spread
for someone else had bound them, so he had to walk instead

now walking isn't easy if you're not designed to do it
despite the onset of much pain you have to work on through it
for only then can you progress to find your chosen goal
and not look like the raven did, a bird sized lump of coal
that has to leap aside when people just don't see you there
while ambling along or simply out in the fresh air

so poor old raven had to hide till he could free his wings
then fly around this ancient Keep to find and steal those rings
for he is proud and shouts aloud, he sounds just like the boss
who boasted of his prowess, now he has to pay the cost
humiliated, tired and weary raven slinks away
"perhaps I'll try to purloin golden rings another day"

the moral of this sorry tale is to not make rash claims
'cause if you fail then like the raven you will only gain
a reputation as a loud and boring personage
who thinks he is much better than the normal average
but average is what he is when he's compared with others
of his own breed, the ravens who are known by their black feathers
who flock together when they can and hunt for shiny things
like jewels and silver amulets, and even golden rings

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Have a good one! Saturday night that is, and I'll see you tomorrow. And if I don't see you through the week I'll see you through the window. Heh, Heh!

 

Love it xxx