Rhymes or Reason

As it's the end of the old year and the start of the new, I just wrote down some of my thoughts for the day. They're set out below in a poem. I hope you like it, but even if you don't, I still hope you have a good new year!

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New Year is here

New Year's Eve has rolled round again
time to take stock of the outgoing year
it's been one of heartache and panic and pain
mixed up with loneliness worry and fear

so what does the new year promise to be
apart from some frost on a cold winter's day
will it be better for you and for me
when the clock strikes twelve and the old goes away

will I be drinking or will I be dry(ish)
depends on how well the presents hold out
my main gift this year was a bottle of Irish
I'll enjoy that I'm sure, and get tipsy no doubt

but what about everything outside my bubble
the country, the world and all there is in it
will we get back to the norm, that's the trouble
it's hard to predict, so we'll just have to live it

so here's to the new year let's make it a good one
time to take stock of the blessings we have
like shelter and warmth and the love of a dear one
to carry us through it all we need a laugh

a comic or cartoon we see on the telly
can cheer us all up a bit, give us a smile
perhaps Mister Bean will give us a belly laugh
through misadventures all acted with style

and while we all contemplate how to survive
and prosper in times of such mind bending oddity
we are at least grateful that we're still alive
to remember when everyday life had some quality

for now we're not living we're just marking time
till things can get past this obstruction
but when it's all over the church bells will chime
and we can begin reconstruction

the new year awaits so let's not disappoint
we'll all raise our glasses to toast in the new
and say our goodbyes as the new we anoint
and then we can shout 'Happy New Year to You!'

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Happy New Year everyone, and let's hope it's better than the old one eh?

 

Happy New Year BJ mate.

 

Bless you for that. xxxx

 

Just went upstairs to make sure the curtains were closed in the bedroom and suddenly thought of this little ditty.

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Twas the eve before New Year and all round the house
nothing was stirring not even the cat
he sat by the skirting awaiting a mouse
to trundle on by looking juicy and fat

just then fell a shooting star out of the sky
full of foreboding, an omen
a warning of bad news that could make us cry
but we missed it our curtains weren't open

instead we all sat on the sofa to rest
our aching limbs from all the walking
and chatted till we'd got it all off our chest
and then we gave up on the talking

but time it was rushing us into the night
soon this wretched old year will be over
perhaps we can then put the whole world to rights
as the saying goes 'We'll be in clover!'

so raise up your glass and give us a 'Cheers'
it's time to forget all our sorrows
for we are expecting a Happy New Year
and better days all our tomorrows.

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Hello all, Happy New Year! and I hope the hangover's not too bad?

I've knocked up another few lines for you to peruse and here they are. They're called 'New Year's Day', now there's an imaginative title if ever there was one.

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The new year is here and what a dull day
there's nothing to see here and nothing to do
the old one has finally wasted away
so I'll sit at the keyboard and write this for you

with all the upheaval of what's going on
you'd think that the sky would take on a new hue
but so far it's grey and the sun hasn't shone
it's hiding its visage from me and from you

but now we've set sail on uncharted waters
those we deserted a long time ago
we need to decide on the things that will matter
to us as we sail on our own through the flow

of time and of change in the world as it turns
for nothing stays still, not even the tide
of life's ebb and flow on the strand as we learn
the fate of our people from which we can't hide

from destiny written in parchment and scrolls
that into the archive will soon be despatched
describing the time when we answered the call
to break out of our shell as though newly hatched

for though they are history now in the making
and seeing is muddied by mist from the sea
the strands of our fate like a reed will be shaking
as winds of uncertainty help us break free

from the bounds of the moribund into the light
from the dawn we emerge as our future unfolds
and we hope yet unwritten books tell of the fight
of our people who fought it in tales yet untold

for who would gainsay us and who put us down
the nation of mongrels who tamed the world's seas
'a nation of shopkeepers' serving the towns
and speaking a language of trade and of peace

if you serve then you'll prosper and better yourself
so market and trade all your goods by the sea
watch more nations queue to join our commonwealth
as it grows and evolves democratic and free

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I wonder what'll pop into my head tomorrow?

 

I look forward to seeing it. X

 

Well, it's January Second today and I've just knocked up another few lines to remind us of what we've been up to for the last couple of weeks.

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It's January Second and what do we find
we've left all the feasting and drinking behind
and now comes the time when we count up the cost
if only the pounds were all ounces we'd lost

we'd all be much better and fitter no doubt
but instead we're all reeling and having to shout
for the distance we must have between us has grown
with the size of our stomachs, our diets are blown!

and clothes that once fit us and made us look svelte
now need to be squeezed with a very wide belt
for although we all promised we wouldn't go mad
it's amazing how promises quickly turn bad

when the mince pies come out and the chocolate bars
are there on the table we know they're all ours
for the taking and eating and dropping of crumbs
we knew it would cost us when reckoning comes

and now it is here and we must pay the price
for our over-indulgence (although it was nice!)
and the jogging and push ups we'll have to endure
to try to get back to the weight from before

we started to gorge ourselves stupid we'll pay
until we all find one glorious day
that the scales are now tipped just as much as they were
before Advent came round with all it incurred

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Now try to be good and put down that left over mince pie!

 

You are brilliant xxxx

 

Today's Sunday, and it's January 3rd. Here's todays little ditty to be going on with. This one's a song you can sing, and the tune you sing it to is that of the song 'Sixteen Tons', by Merle Travis, who recorded his song in 1946, that's 75 years ago!

January Third (with apologies to Merle Travis for stealing some of his words!)

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Now it's Jan'ry the third and what do we get
another day older and deeper in debt
so don't call me baby coz I can't go, I got
no money to spend in the Jan'ry sales

all the people are itchin' to get outside
they got their big coats on, their wallets are wide
with hats and gloves and a yearnin' inside
to spend their money an' lift their pride

you spend sixteen pounds and what do you get
a shirt and a watch and a whole lotta debt
so don't call me tomorrow coz I won't know
if I still got a job or I'm out on furlough

now baby you know me, you know that I'm hurtin'
I had dreams for us babe but they've gone for a burton
so all we can do is just pick up the pieces
when the world moves on and the river unfreezes

you'll spend sixteen pounds and what'll you get
another cheap watch it's the cheapest one yet
so baby please don't call me coz I won't know
if I still got a job or I'm out on furlough

well tomorrow is Monday and then we'll see
if I'm gonna be sittin' here watchin' TV
or if I'll be called to get back to workin'
and you know I'll go, don't wanna be shirkin'

you earn sixteen pounds and what do you get
another day's food in the local market
so there's food on the table to keep you alive
we gotta keep goin' till Spring can arrive

now it's Jan'ry the third and our last day of rest
we're still a bit hungover, not quite our best
tomorrow is Monday and then we'll know
if we still got a job or we're out on furlough....

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I hope you sang along to that? I did.

 

Yes xxxx

 

Today's little ditty is more of a rant and rave than of hitherto because it's struck me that although people who work together can gather in their hundreds, at home we're all limited to 6 people at one time. This makes no sense at all, and neither does the fact that Public Health England decided in their wisdom to amalgamate the covid and flu numbers this year, so that you can't find out how many people actually died of covid and how many from the flu. I think this is disgraceful, and takes us for fools who can be lied to and manipulated into a situation where we're all scared stiff to even talk to each other, let alone interact in any physical manner.

Anyway, here's today's little ode. It's called 'January Fourth' surprisingly enough, and I hope my rantings don't annoy you too much.

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It's Monday the fourth and for most it's a working day, out on the fields and the factory floor
the season for resting has gone now it's time to pay, up in the morning and out of the door
journey to work to earn money and pay the bills, nothing's for free except air and the weather
so keep yourselves warm as you tread the cold wind swept hills, working your muscles and wearing out shoe leather

meanwhile I'll sit here and write these words for you, bashing the keyboard I try to imagine
what it's like now as you work at the jobs you do, soon we'll all think work has gone out of fashion
for many of us now sit in cells without iron bars, we watch as the world passes by through the glass
we no longer have an excuse to go out in cars, but sit here at home on a broadening a**e!

the sofa is where we now live our lives every day, action is lifting a sweet from the bowl
watching and waiting as time slowly ebbs away, while the world heads for a massive black hole
cheer up my friends it's not all doom and gloom for us, there's still the telly and all it provides
but I think I'm getting mad cow, my brain's turned to mush, from all the programmes I watch with my eyes

designed for an audience too tired to think, the programmes are written to keep us amused
with plots reminiscent of my kitchen sink, why do I feel like I'm being abused?
perhaps over time we'll all overcome this, it's just a small thing that we're fighting that's all
and with perseverance we'll regain our inner peace, amid the freneticised media toll

when Spring rolls around to embrace us once more, we'll lift up our glasses and welcome it in
the media likes to keep raising the lethal score, but keep your head down and cover your chin
that way you're no target for hard propaganda, no target for haters to pull your soul down
eventually we'll write our own memoranda, to share as we head for a night on the town

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See you tomorrow for another thrilling episode of 'Inside the mind of BJ! Saint or Sewer?'

 

Keep them coming. xxx

 

Not sure if I told you, but on a writer's forum (not this one), I committed to writing a poem a day for the next six months, so we'll have to see if I can manage it, or if I'll run out of ideas after a few days. I'll let you know tomorrow if I can think of anything to write about, but meanwhile, I'm finding it quite stimulating having to put my mind to work each day to get some words of stupidity out of my head and onto the page.

 

Shine On Crazy Black Hole Sun!

Rhyme or reason, which is the season?
Everywhere you go in a black hole,
Seasons All Look The Same!
And There You Are!​

 

Well, today's Tuesday, Jan fifth, and here's today's short offering.

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January fifth and what do I see
small flakes of snow falling down through the trees
it's cold enough out there for monkeys to freeze
at least certain bits of them, so I believe!

the flurries and swirls of the snow in the air
at present are thin but I know they are there
if I were to go out I'd soon have white hair
and in no time resemble a small polar bear

so I think I'll stay here and watch through the window
as the cold wind that blows from the north does its worst
that's the trouble with watching the first of the winter snow
it makes me work up a terrible thirst

for me a hot coffee, or tea for the missus
is what we need now to warm up our hands
and if we need shopping we'll rush out to purchase
whatever we need in bottles and cans

then make our way home laden down with our booty
coz 'home's where the heart is' the old saying goes
while the fields will transform as the wind driven beauty
of white covers all with the cold winter snows

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See you tomorrow, if I can get through the snow drifts that is!

 

Well well, it's Wednesday, January sixth, and the twelfth day of Chrismas. Time to take down all those decorations that have been gathering dust for the last fortnight or more. And while you're doing it you can have a read of my latest missive. It's not too massive I hope for you to peruse at your leisure, now that along with the rest of the country, you've been put out to grass. I've been there already for the last couple of years, as I retired back in 2018, so I know what it's like to have all the time in the world to do stuff. It's amazing how there's never enough time to do anything when you've got endless hours to fill. Anyway, have a quick read, and I hope you don't get too bored by the end of it. I'm sure it could do with a better ending, but then again, if I did the best ending of all, what would I write about tomorrow, eh?

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January Sixth and the twelfth day of Christmas
time to take down all the bright decorations
the twelve days have gone now the winter's upon us
and time to declare our new year's resolutions

the cold wind doth bite and the sleet it doth sting
as it whips at our faces whenever we venture
out in the open, the gales make our ears ring
from leaving our sorry selves prone to exposure

so keep wrapped up warm when abroad in the weather
there's no sense in freezing with all it entails
such as chilblains and other more imminent danger
from nose drools and more as our skin it assails

the peril's upon us so go with great care
when moving from hither to yon on your own
you don't want to leave any bits of skin bare
as you travel the highways through country and town

it's time to develop our dreams for the future
while waiting indoors for the weather to change
by Easter the days will be longer and warmer
for picnics and meetings, all ours to arrange

so patience my friends is the very best virtue
to face all our troubles that wait up ahead
with long weeks to go to resolve all the issues
that threaten us now and fill us with dread

the cloud that hangs over our heads will disperse
with the sun when it comes out to warm us again
and our fortunes that now seem so bad will reverse
as long as we have the cool nerve to remain

calm as the storms that rampage all around us
break down our defences and all we hold dear
we need to hold on to the dreams that surround us
and save us from being defeated by fear

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What will we do when the twelfth day of Christmas is over? After all, we can't have a thirteenth day now can we? We'll have to think of something else to call the next couple of weeks. I know, how about January?

 

Oh, hello again, I just had a thought. We're all supposed to be going into lockdown again, so what's all that about then? Stopping the virus, or stopping our economy from flourishing now that Brexit has happened? I sometimes wonder at the motive for the government's actions, as it seems to me that although the newspapers are saying the hospitals are crammed full of patients, I've seen two videos now, one in Gloucester and the other in Belfast, showing empty hospitals, and strippe out wards, with no-one around. It's like the Mary Celeste out there. So who's telling the truth and who's telling porkies, a mainstream media obsessed with profit, or ordinary people who find that the media are pushing a completely false story?

Anyway, here's my take on it in rhyme.

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So what's with the lockdown
it seems mad to knockdown
all the small businesses fighting for life

they struggle to build up
a niche they can fill up
but now they've been stabbed by the government's knife

a blade to destroy them
or merely annoy them
to take all their customers out of the frame

and kill all their futures
stitched up with small sutures
sewn up by some ministers hungry for fame

but people are brilliant
they're so resilient
even when knocked down they'll dust themselves off

when kicked in the goolies
they don't raise a hooley
but fight to climb from the despondency trough

back into the limelight
for them it just seems right
to battle bureaucracy all night and day

until they can restore
the place they held before
their custom was cruelly taken away

so here's to the future
where business can turn around
failing lost fortunes and rebuild with pride

and help get the nation
to regain its station
with confidence growing throughout nationwide

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Loving your poems. xxx

 

Well today is January Seventh, and it's the birthday of one of the people I shared a flat with in Maida Vale when I first moved to London back in 1979. I lived in the large flat with five other people for over three years, before moving out to buy a flat in Barnet with my then girlfriend, who I later married. When I moved out I lost touch with my old flatmates, but one in particular was a larger than life character. Richie his name was, and he was originally from Ireland. He was a right rogue, and being Irish he could drink a fish under the table! Anyway, read on and learn a little about someone who I remember with a smile.

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Today is the seventh and do you know what?
It's Richie's birthday that's what it is
today he'll be turning seventy one
assuming he still draws breath and lives

he may be in London or what is more likely
he'll be in Dublin coz that's where he's from
at the flat we shared in Maida Vale he was mighty
a fake A and R man and a pretty good con

each weekend down at the Lock he'd go fishing
telling the bands he could sign them all up
just give him a drink and he'd sure do the right thing
get them a contract they'd soon get the call up

then into the studio, he'd have them believe
to get all their songs out on vinyl next week
did they ever know that they'd been deceived
cotton on to his bare faced fibbing and cheek?

coz it wasn't real, just a con for a free drink
and Richie had nothing to back up his words
he worked selling records, it does make me think
perhaps he missed his vocation or worse

later I learned that he'd moved from poacher
to gamekeeper when he shifted career
to work for the Performing Rights people where
he collected royalties for the music you hear

we lost touch when I moved out of the flat
to live with my girlfriend, (later my wife!)
but sometimes I like to reminisce and think back
and wonder if he had a fulfilling life

who knows if I'll ever hear of him again
coz that was nearly forty years ago
it's only memories for me that remain
of a wickedly funny man full of bravado

so 'Happy Birthday Richie!', wherever you are
here or the next world I guess I'll never know
London or Dublin either near or afar
you'll always be the star of the show.

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I wonder what Friday will bring? More brass monkey weather I don't doubt. I was up in the Melton Mowbray area today, and the temperature never rose above 0 degrees all day!

 

I look forward to your contribution tomorrow.
It was minus all day in Bournemouth.