Rhymes or Reason

Looking forward to Thrustday's poem. xxx

 

Okay Candy Gal, your wish is my command. Here's today's little ditty.

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Thursday today and a bit of a non-day
did nothing this morning, as the day slid away
shopping this afternoon for pet stuff that's all
then back home in time to see darkness fall

so now I'm sat here and bereft of ideas
what can I write about, any suggestions?
perhaps I should sit and watch TV some more as
it might help me make better mental connections

my fingers would fly around over the keys
pounding out stories full of intrigue
with plot and with characters growing like trees
in a forest of tales and each one unique

now to begin to pen my magnus opus
my novel so great it will be a best seller
all I need is a good basic premise
some well dodgy actors and a plot that's real clever

then plan it all out on a blackboard perhaps
to see all the twists and turns of the tale
until I've worked out that there are enough traps
to catch out the unwary and make them all fail

to guess the denouement before the last page
that's surely the mark of perfect suspense
a book that remains for years as you age
a mystery that's deep and really intense

some stories are famous all around the world
but we don't really know why that should be the case
there's some universal need for us to feel unsettled
like horror films scare us, it's a fear we embrace

we enjoy the vicarious pleasure and pain
of the down-to-earth hero and the villain who's slain
and the pretty young girl who the hero has saved
from a fate worse than death by the villain enslaved

so where do I start this great undertaking
I guess I should start to write up the last chapter
that way I'll know how the plot will be ending
then write it for your imagination to capture

and once my great work's been polished to a shine
and sent to the printers for their final say
it'll need a good title this story of mine
to fly off of the bookshelves every day

if I write any more here I'll have to start working
on plot and on characters to make it all real
it will have to jump up off the page not sit lurking
and waiting for me to land a publishing deal

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Friday tomorrow, another week crashes into the weekend (thud!)

 

Ooh a story with character's.
That sounds good. X

 

I'll see if I can write a story in rhyme for you Candy Gal. In fact I already have one that I don't think I've posted up here yet. It's a bit rude, and it's only short, but after I've posted up today's poem I'll see about finding the rude poem to put up as well. Meanwhile, here's today's offering.

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Friday afternoon the weekend approaches
I remember the days when I was at work
couldn't wait to get out of the stuffy old office
and cease to be just one more downtrodden clerk

mind you I wasn't really, not in my last job
I programmed computers and made up reports
for the faculty members at my own small desktop
so they could show figures based on my support

I worked with a few of the departments on campus
but mainly the PGCE recruitment team
and armed with my numbers from college admissions
they toured many schools to sell them the dream

the rather odd dream of becoming a teacher
to pass on the knowledge they'd only just learned
and be permanent scholars who turned into preachers
spreading the gospel to all those concerned

I noticed that mostly it was girls who applied
I guess the boys wanted to leave education
they wanted to enter their careers from outside
and not be a spark for the next generation

on the campus there was an imbalance of genders
with girls two to one compared to the boys
I sometimes wondered if the boys knew the status
and went there to find themselves spoiled for choice

but that was before the virus pandemic
hit all the campuses right in the guts
now no-one can go there and be academic
instead they must study at home in a rut

I hope that this year we get to the bottom
and find a new method of stopping the spread
even the brightest of students will fail to blossom
while working alone to take it all in their heads

and exams if there are any will be a sham
who will be able to answer the questions
with no interaction but through instagram
I seriously worry they'll fail their inspections

so in future graduates will become scarce
and employers will have to employ different means
to find out how each candidate compares
and decide who to take on and who to demean

and for those not accepted into a career
what can they do next to get a good job
stand by the roadside and advertise beer
or look for the nearest bank they can rob

opportunity's there but nobody knows
the roads to success are not clearly defined
the schools need to teach about profit and workflows
so their graduating pupils won't get left behind

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Now to see if I can find the rude rhyming story. Back in a tick!

 

Sorry about this, but it turns out I've already posted up the rude rhyme I was looking for. It's on page 3 and is called 'Vidi Vici Veni!' which means 'I saw, I conquered, I came!' So I guess I'll have to try and write something else that has characters and plot. Give me a couple of days and I'll see what I can manage. Meanwhile, I'll continue to write up the daily ode, and will try to carry on till June 30th, as I have committed (on another forum) to writing a poem a day for the first half of the year.

 

No worries Frixday is day of love and fun. xxx

 

Saturday today. It rained, again! My garden's a water garden now, it doesn't have a water feature, it IS a water feature. Ah well, with luck the pigeons won't drown, or I put on my wellies to go and feed them for nothing. Anyway, here's the story of Katie and Rory.

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Saturday today it's been raining again
I heard it this morning on the window pane
my garden now looks like a flooded storm drain
I had to put on my wellies to put out the bird grain

now I'm back indoors and thinking of stories
perhaps one about Katie and her old man Rory
they liked to go cycling on their weekends
out on their tandem when they had loose ends

they rode in the country they cycled to the town
but lots of steep hills, they got Katie down
she said to poor Rory 'go buy us a car!'
he did as she asked and then said 'there you are!'

then they both went out driving together each day
for miles they drove both home and away
but Rory wasn't the man he'd once been
and he couldn't remember the places he'd seen

so Katie navigated them hither and yon
but even she wasn't sure which road they were on
so they asked a policeman the saw at a corner
but they parked on his foot, which was bang out of order

the copper berated them soundly for ages
then threatened to book them for squashing his toes
he even told them he'd sue them for damages
so Katie declared that he was her hero

she gave him a smile and sat him right down
then took off his shoes to rub his toes better
she soothed him with words till he no longer frowned
and after a while he looked a lot calmer

then Rory and Katie asked him for directions
to get to the shopping mall that they were seeking
instead he offered against their objections
to come in the car and prevent them despairing

to guide them along all the myriad ways
to get to their goal that was quite far away
and true to his word they avoided delays
and arrived at the shops without going astray

so they thanked the policeman and bought him a coffee
then did their day's shopping and headed off home
they retraced the route, (Katie had made a copy!)
and swore to themselves nevermore for to roam

but instead buy themselves a brand new satnav
to tell them the best route to take A to B
it cut all their journey times to less than half
of the time it had taken them previously

so now Kate and Rory are happy to travel
on the highways and byways of country and town
they no longer sit as their poor lives unravel
but enjoy their adventures and write them all down

they're hoping to write up a book to help others
to learn all the pleasures of gadding about
it seems that they're good because they've received offers
to publish their tome and get their thoughts out

so here ends the tale of Katie and Rory
a car happy couple who enjoy their lives
they've still got the bike and I might tell the story
one day of their journeys, they're all in the archives

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Sunday tomorrow. Let's hope it lives up to its name!

 

I so look forward to your poems. xxx

 

Just a short one this evening and not very interesting. It's been cold and windy, and this afternoon it started raining AGAIN! So we just went round to the local shops to get some milk in and a few other things. Anyway, let's hope tomorrow brings better weather and more in the way of inspiration for my poems. I'm getting fed up with trying to describe the day I've just had. I need to break out of the straightjacket of the now, and think more about the abstract, so that I can do more stories like the one about Katie and Rory.

Hmmm! I must ponder on this, and while I do so, please read today's little offering.

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Sunday wasn't a fun day and not very sunny
we went shopping for milk and something for tea
it was cold it was windy, can't say it was funny
but it was dry for a while and that made us happy

the bags were all heavy carrying them back
if I hadn't worn gloves my fingers would've froze
and the weight didn't do any good for my back
so I was very pleased when the front door was closed

then into the living room, feet up on the pouffe
cup of coffee in hand and two custard creams
sit back, look out the window at the neighbour's roof
they're having an extension and I noticed what seems

like three old cannon poking out above the tiles
it's rolls of roofing felt, but the way they're stacked
makes them look like big guns when seen in profile
let's just hope the coming high winds will leave them intact

there's a storm coming tomorrow it's already on its way
with rain on the wind and low temps too
the weather won't be too bad during the day
but by midnight there'll be a right hullabaloo

the hard rain will come crashing onto the panes
the wind will howl noisily down through the flue
by then I'll be cursing 'Oh, no, not again!'
but hoping on hope that it's just passing through

by the next morning with luck it will have diminished
swept on its way by the cold Winter wind
let's hope with the new month it'll all be finished
and we can look forward to Spring in our minds

although there's another three months of this season
they won't be long coming, it'll be a short wait
so just hunker down, you have the best reason
to stay indoors eating and staying up late

when Spring rolls round get out of the closet
all your best clothes for being outside
then go for a walk, with gloves in your pocket
it'll probably still be cold it can't be denied

so as the old saying goes don't cast your clout
the weather's too changeable even in May
for wearing light clothes to go gamboling about
for that you must wait for a warm Summer's day

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See you next month! Oh, that's tomorrow, OK, well see you tomorrow then, eh?

 

Monday and the First of February. Did you know that on Feb 12th the date will be a palindrome? It will be 12/02/2021. There! Bet you didn't know that did you, eh?

Anyway, here's today's ditty.

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Monday Monday, I can't say
I'm fond of it really, I just don't like the day
it's the first of the month and of this working week
I don't know if it would normally be that way
but it's bringing me down it is
yes it is
it's damp and it's gloomy and covered with cloud
it's a weather depression there must be a cure
perhaps a strong wind to rattle the sashes
of the windows that look out to see the sad shroud

I long for the summer when blue skies appear
and the blossoms have grown to be fruit on the trees
the lushness of nature that basks in its glory
and warmed by the sun till the grass smells so sweet
and the long strands that stand up they tickle my knees
as I stroll through the meadow of life at its ease
to follow the path of my fate as it shows
the way to my destiny there in the distance
I see it but only through logic's persistance

it moves me cajoles me and bumps me along
through the rough and the smooth till I learn of the rhythm
that orders all things on this spinning great ball
that hurtles through space and nurtures us all
and the sun that sustains us and gives us all life
is our curse and our saviour
a double edged knife
it warms us and helps to develop strong bones
but it burns us it blinds and wrinkles our skin
it helps make us grow yet can give us all cancer
makes me feel like some fool cosmic chancer

and the plants that it nourishes thrive in its presence
but too much will kill them without rain as well
for the secret of life is a balance of these things
of heat and of cool and wet and of dry
so we watch as the days of the seasons pass by
and wait for the perfect time to take our pleasure
but watching and waiting impart certain pressure
to move or to look away losing our patience
our focus on the little things get in the way
of appreciating our world with its earth and its sky
so take heed my friends and relax and enjoy
the life that you have with what tools you employ
to make your life better and easier too
I'm not thinking of me now, but wish this for you

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See you on the other side! Of the night that is, or better known as tomorrow.

 

Brilliant poems BJ. XXX
You should do a book xxx

 

Candy Gal,

When I've got enough written to fill a book then I might just do that. The problem then is finding a publisher who's prepared to publish and print it!

 

OOh I know a way. xx
I will PM later. xxx
I have a call to make. xx

 

The second today, and time to post up today's work, well one of them anyway. I've been busy today knocking out rhymes, or poems that is. They don't always rhyme like my entries here do, some of them are more blank verse.

Anyway, here's today's musings.

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Today's the second of the month
so only twenty six more to go
before the month will change again
this year's not going very slow

in fact it's simply racing by
it seems like only yesterday
I took this challenge
to let words fly
from my mind onto the page

so now I'm letting my fingers work
my thoughts escaping to the screen
I'm not sure if my brain's engaged
or even where those thoughts have been

they could be out on horses riding
galloping across the plain
the rolling hills behind them shrinking
still they thunder like a train

they pick up ideas along the way
as hooves well shod speed through the grass
they fly like clods and divots spray
the sort thrown up by a polo pass

but polo is two games it seems
one on horse and one in water
so which one should I embrace
the horsey drier or the wetter

who knows perhaps I'll use them both
to build a rhyme for my collection
I'm sure they both must share some rules
as well as names as a connection

but do my thoughts stay on the pitch
or do they wander through the stream
of consciousness the like of which
you my reader have rarely seen

yes my ode tonight is brewing
bubbling up through all the cells
I just hope it's not my undoing
plunging into deeper wells

to scrape the thoughts from every barrel
then to paste them up as one
as though I've been inspired by several
ideas, there it's almost done

now just to pen a final verse
that rhymes like all the others do
a rousing finish well rehearsed
so I can give it all to you

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I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

 

Hello again.

The poem below is one I started writing a while ago, but left off after only one and a half verses. I found it again yesterday morning, so I thought I'd have a go at writing the rest of it. Anyway, it's here below for your delectation and delight. I think I'll make it my poem for today rather than having to start another one, so just accept it as today's offering. It has a name by the way, it's called 'Home'. I was going to call it 'Island Life', because it's about our island, but decided that 'Home' was a better name, and shorter too.

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Green grass tops the jutting brow
of snow white chalky cliffs
at their feet the rocky shoreline
ever seems to shift
waves churn up the pebbles
and the other shapeless stones
behind this wall's the place we live
the place that we call home

the grey green sea is all around
it stops us from escaping
yet gives us peace to build the homes
and gardens that we're shaping
the finite land within our shores
is ours to plough and sow
the fertile land around us
where our seeds take root and grow

we cultivate our land and then
we fill the space with people
then build our churches to give thanks
each one with tower or steeple
and wooden pews all cut from trees
we've grown in native forests
they may be hard and lightly scarred
especially the arm rests

but over time these hardy seats
have given their support
to countless souls in need of rest
and guidance of a sort
on how to make their way through life
with dignity and poise
a lesson that's not always taken on by little boys

but little boys grow bigger
and mature into the men
who work with hands
to shape the land
to house and comfort them
they take their wives
and make new lives
to keep the process going
through generation to generation
you can feel the life force flowing

the land gives up its bounty
only when it's fed its due
it needs the time
and quickened lime
to help the process through
by breaking down
into the ground
whatever we discard
it's not an easy thing to do
indeed it must be hard

our land is here and always was
when ice above was flowing
across the northern lands for years
it stopped all life from growing
but came the thaw
the ground then saw
the sun that rose above it
the plants awoke
the warmth then spoke
and life soon learned to love it

the land grew rich and filled men's eyes
with bounty overflowing
so man moved in to claim his prize
and set the cycle going
and now with knowledge passed to us
we keep the land alive
and though the work's laborious
it lets us live and thrive

this land is everything to us
it's where we live and breathe
it's where we're born
it's where we die
and where our families grieve
and though it's sad to say farewell
to those who've gone before
the circle of existence
is what we live here for

we want our family lives to be
as joyful and serene
as humans always strive to live
it's how it's always been
we want success to bathe us all
and keep our futures bright
and so we follow nature's call
to do what she thinks right

this land is hers where she holds sway
we're only tenants here
and if she chose to throw us off
she'd make it very clear
our time is past
we'd be the last
to till and plant the soil
there'd be no more
to struggle for
so no more need to toil
we'd be set free
from all that we
have ever known it's true
and we'd belong to nowhere
just footloose me and you

but don't despair
all you out there
who've read this open letter
as long as we
can nourish her
she'll make our country better
and all of those
whom fate has chosen
to live on this land
give thanks each day
in every way
for nature's helping hand

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See you tomorrow!

 

Such wonder writing my lovely. xxx

 

Hello again.

Today's Thursday, or as Candy Gal would have it Thrustday. Anyway don't wish the day away, but stick around and play or if you're jewish you might say 'Oi Vay!' Well be that as it may, it's time to post up the poem for today.

So here it is.

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There comes a time in each man's life
to think of where he's been
to think of all those whom he's loved
and those no longer seen

for time like water flowing through
has faces for reflections
just as a clock needs a hand or two
as pointers for directions

and where the hands point on the dial
is where we find our conscience
for there the markings all the while
exist to give directions

we live in four distinct dimensions
or so we have been told
where three of them are solid
and the fourth is us as we grow old

but what if there are others
planes of thought we just discern
as pieces of the whole we see
the things that we all learn

as life is thrown straight at us
we cannot dodge away
but must face up to what arrives
at our front door each day

the letterbox is overflowing
with the post of others
whose words to us they're showing
wrapped in envelopes and covers

magazines and marketing
are what we see most of
when reading what's been sent to us
as though ordained from above

rules and laws are pasted on our brains
as though by right
you'd think that without all their words
we'd never see the light

but though they cajole and pester us
to join in all their schemes
we still have our own memories
of what our lives have been

through lenses made of soft recall
we look back on the past
and try to never lose it all
but instead make it fast

fastened to our inner being
nailed onto the mast
a crowsnest made for seeing
what our lives have been at last

and as we sit with trepidation
wondering what's next
now's the time for mild reflection
like revising for a test

and in the future we'll look back
at what we've done today
and wonder at the logic
of what we've done to while the hours away

those endless hours those precious hours
that slip right through like sand
as though trapped in an hourglass
constantly refilled by hand

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See you tomorrow, or not, if you see me first, eh?

 

Friday today, and the fifth of the month. Today's poem is a bit of a departure for me, but I hope to follow with more odes like this, that do have some rhymes, but not always where you expect them to be. Anyway, have a gander.

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She slipped her dressing gown over skin
brushed her long and wayward hair
away from her tired and sleepy eyes
then stepping into her fluffy slippers
opened the door and went into the hall
the knock at the front door had stopped now
but she unlocked and opened it anyhow
just to see who'd come to call

there stood the postman letter in hand
"It's too big for the letterbox," he exclaimed
"Okay," she said, "should I sign for it here?"
"No, that's fine," he said and smiled
a man well pleased with his career

she shook her head and closed the door
"I wonder what this letter's for?"
"I wonder who it's from?" I shouted
still laying in the messed up bed
things like sudden letters arriving
surely can mess up one's head

it's just as though they know I'm here
as though they smell me, know my fear
those envelopes some brown some white
that cross the country overnight
to slip into my life unbidden
when I thought I was safely hidden
here at her's not at my own

but in she came with knife in hand
to open the letter she'd received
it had a cardboard backing sleeve

which is why the postman knocked
he couldn't fold it down this letter
or he'd have bent it altogether
to push it through the narrow slot

but anyway to cut it short
the letter was a spiel of sorts
it came from someone asking for
some money to build halls for sports
that no-one's heard of, no-one cares
and we can't affort to buy any shares
in what could be a costly venture

no-one else will either I'll wager
but I applaud the writer's cheek
for spending out to try and seek
to gain a financial footing for
a business that's supposed to help
us lose some weight and build up muscle
but I don't want to have the hassle
or get involved in money tussles

instead I'll lie here watching her
as she glides around the double bed
her long hair falls around her head
a halo in the light of morning
lights the room like summer dawning

she shines with pure and childlike beauty
skin that radiates like snow
if this was how I'd have to go
I'd choose this moment now
and pray
to remember her forever this way

my morning goddess standing free
angel there for me to see
she throws the letter to the floor
drops the knife on the bedside table
sees my eyes that must implore
her to join me when she's able

I'll do all I can to please her
know her body's pleasure chart
maps the road to her enjoyment
this she knows with all her heart
she lays with me and we enjoin
and smiles at me as we embrace
our loving time's about to start
our private sport, the human race

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Well, that's your lot for tonight. I'll see what I can do tomorrow.

 

Okay, so I haven't got much to say about today as I don't seem to have done a lot.

Anyway, here's today's ode, enjoy!

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Colours fill my eyes
many shades of many dyes
each one means a new emotion
spreading out to my horizon
bending me and shaping me to new dimensions
sending me in new directions
what will I find on arrival

at my final destiny
will it be
happiness, or will I be sad
will everything fade from good to bad
who knows as we fill our live's palette
with all the shades of unknown fate
let's not tint our work with hate
but instead squeeze out warmth and love
colours to ignite our feelings

light colours to reflect from ceilings
all the brightness we desire
just like flames within a fire
something that warms us from inside
to inflame our sense of pride
give us cause to lift our hearts
so be uplifted it's the start

of something great and something new
that will when painted spread around
the canvas of our lives when filled
to give a picture we can share

a coloured image we can like
a smooth yet brush ridged icon for
our lives as lived here once before
as we now see them on the wall
and feel the inner siren call

from all our past lives here displayed
upon the canvas colours played
with our emotions, our devotions
all our strengths and greatest notions
ideas given shape and form
from summer meadow to raging storm
and all that happens in between
and all the things our eyes have seen

we feel them as we take it in
the thoughts here manifested seem
to wrench us to our very spleen
and turn our feelings on their heads
as though inverted they'll be better
bloodstream rushing to the brain
to help us understand the gain

that we enjoy when seeing art
at least the colours there imparted
of raw emotion splashed across
the medium of life then tossed
into the maelstrom to rotate
and throw out all the things we hate
but leave the good things for us all
as witnessed by the clarion call

that auction houses country wide
can attest to though appalled
at the prices people pay to
own a painting just to say
"It's mine! so go and buy your own"

I'd like to but that begs the question
where to get the funds for purchase
something that seems to lack purpose
other than to walls adorn
with colour shape and story form

perhaps I'll paint my own someday
then I can at last display
my own work with the colours strewn
around my palette shades and hues

that I find pleasing to the eye
and when it's done and paint is dry
I can release my life to fly
into the void above the sky
and there at last to finally
live endless life in shades of joy
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See you tomorrow.

 

Early one today. This is a poem I submitted to an online magazine a week ago, but they've rejected it as it doesn't meet their requirementss. Ho hum, never mind, that means you get to see it now instead of some time in the future. Anyway, here it is, it actually has a name. It's called "Water is", and that's what it's about.

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Water's a word
it waters the world
it flows forever as rivers
it can lie still forever in lakes
it freezes forever at the magnetic poles
it steams forever through geysers
and transforms iron to rusting red flakes

but clear or salty
blue or grey
we drink it
we piss it
we wash it away

it cleanses us inside
it washes us clean
we need it to live by
without it we shrivel
our skin turns to dust
our organs to metal
we cannot go on
through desert or storm
without it to nourish
our humanoid form

we need it for sex
we need it for birth
we need it for growing
to increase our worth

without the life giving liquid it seems
that we soon fade away to nothing but dreams
of fountains and waterfalls
cascading torrents
angelic rainbows
of colours and light
and dampness that seeps
through our souls overnight

with water we can all be all things to all others
the wells of our being keep filling right through
the spirit that moves us needs rivers to float
all our lives as we slowly drift into the blue
then look back through steamy filled watering eyes
to a time before meaning that ran through the void
and the coming of water that raised and devised
a meaningful treasure that's grown and arrived
with a race of us beings who gather and pray
for our ration of life giving water each day

the slickness of sweat
the warmth of the bath
the chill of hard ice
the salt of your tears
these things mark our lives out
they punctuate time
with water to drip out
the seconds and hours
the waterwheel turns
and the grindstone it grinds

what is the nature of water we ask
can we control it or does it rule us
the question is simple the answer is neat
for us Adam's ale will always be sweet
our bodies require it to fill out our flesh
our cells can't divide if the water's not there
our bones will harden to fossils unseen
that crumble to dust but make earth complete

the vision of ages reflects in its surface
and sunlight will glint on the crest of the waves
as breakers are dashed into rainbow hued droplets
on coastal rock headlands all dotted with pools
that are filled with small creatures
who breathe through their gills
and breed in the cool saltiness of the sea
then flush their new offspring
with each passing tide
back into the ocean
to swim as free creatures
till swept far away
or caught in the current
and the pools once again

the permanent sea that girdles the planet
it moves with mysterious ease of its own
and shapes the land masses
erosion through friction
yet never heats up as it passes
the undersea coast
the basin that holds it and shapes it in turn
into oceans and seas and rivers and lakes
that sinks into the ground to fill freshwater wells
we can tap when we need it to water our crops

so water is vital
without it we die
and everything else that lives here on the earth
it seems a sad pastime
a waste of good time
to even imagine we can measure its worth

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I'll write a fresh one for tomorrow, honest!