Poetry to make you smile and maybe laugh

Don't think of it as losing a job but as gaining autonomous time management skills.

You've been a great employee
that's the reason you were hired
but the company's gone bust
and that's why you've been fired.

We've had to sack the entire team
so it hasn't been just you
we know this will come as a shock
we're very sorry too.

It's all because of the credit crunch
not because we made mistakes
and paid advisors tons of cash
though they were lying snakes.

It would have happened anyway
at least that is a crumb
of comfort for you in your life
in future as a bum.

We wish you all the best to come
We hope you'll be all right,
We're going home to drink a lot,
so we can sleep tonight.

I wrote this poem today in response to a forum thread on Authonomy about sailors and stuff.

A Difficult Berth or The Trouble with Sailing.

Oh for a life on the ocean wave,
for a life of derring do,
but in my experience you'll have to pick one,
for you can't experience two.

A life on the seas sounds full of fun,
but what it's full of is sea,
and ropes to pull, more ropes to pull
and a rope to pull - whoopee!

'Lee Ho!'they shout instead of 'Duck!'
and wonder when you're knocked over board.
They call the many blessed ropes
painters and sheets, when they're simply ropes and cords.

It takes hours and hours to get onto the sea,
once the anchor's been raised,
and the ropes are pulled,more ropes are pulled,
and some are coiled and put away.

Then the one on the wheel thing swears a lot,
for that's what sailors do,
and if you ever go to sea
you'll find you're swearing too.

The flappy things blow in the breeze,
They aren't even just called sails,
but jibs, genoas, spinakers,
it makes me want to wail.

After an hour of ocean bliss,
there's the fun of trying to berth,
with ropes to pull, more ropes to pull,
its more trouble than its worth.

A new article on the Times Online website regrettably appears to have passed me over as a candidate for Poet Laureate.

Much as I try to be stoical about it, I have to admit to feeling miffed and hurt.

I know that my lovely readers would jump at a chance to help me gain back a little self respect.

Us comedic creative geniuses are as a breed, fragile tender sensitive souls and I am struggling to prevent the dark cloak of depression from sullying my silver sparkled happy place.

"What can we do?" I hear your warm supportive voices chorus.

Well you could follow the link above to the Times Online and very kindly remind them of the sterling work I have done to help rejuvenate what has been frankly a rather lacklustre genre.

BANANA FOR POET LAUREATE

But only if you think it would be a good idea. No pressure.... she said sobbing whilst in her dressing gown and listening to Tony Hancock on Radio 7.

I murdered my brother and strangled the cat,
called my silver haired mother a rank smelling old bat.
I stole several cars and robbed a bank,
but I'm happy to say no one knows that I spend quality time in my bedroom alone.

I pee on library books before taking them back,
and wander the municipal parks in a loose fitting mac.
I find prosthetic limbs come lose when given a firm yank,
but I'm proud to report no one knows that I spend quality time in my bedroom alone.

This poem was inspired by a thread on a website forum.
Someone implied that masturbation was something that inspired guilt.
That got me thinking about the song Blue Suede Shoes, which I once parodied for the entertainment of my close friends. In that song the various indignities volunteered for got more and more obscene and creative while of course in return the Blue Suede Shoes remained unscathed.

That version of the song will probably never be repeated for public consumption, but it made me think about the mentality of the sort of person who might have very low moral standards and yet still be so terrified about being 'outed' as a devotee of "self fulfilment" that they couldn't even say the W word even when thinking about their quality time alone.

Hence this poem was written. For the few people who seem to believe my poems are descriptions of my true life I would like to state:

No cat was strangled, no brother murdered and my mother is not silver haired and although I admit to calling her a bat from time to time, she has not been accused of being rank smelling as it would not be accurate.

All the rest of the poem is imaginary as well. I have to confess to a very strange imagination, but it keeps me entertained.

Unfulfilled.

I have a very long list of things I want to do,
then another twice as long compiled by 'you know who.'

It tells me of the things I must accomplish every day,
tasks I am 'asked' to complete if I'm to get my pay.

Alas I work from home and my bed is warm like heaven,
too many days I find it hard to rise before eleven.

There are so many dreams in store I have no need of sheep,
I have (dream) miles to go, a (dream) horse to ride and (dream) promises to keep.

If I carry on like this I will lose my job for sure,
But alarm clocks can't compete with my somnambulant nasal roar.

So the list of things I want to do stays locked up in my heart,
and at the top of it is number one - Get up and make a start.

Only fair to acknowledge the classic poem which I have parodied in one of the lines in this (in my case) realistic portrayal of why some people, despite being full of great ideas and capable of almost anything, achieve very little.

Simply put (but not by a classic poet) 'Snooze and you lose'. Story of my life.

Maybe we didn't shout enough to wound his gentle senses?

But something somewhere failed to cause enough intense offences.

And now we have the credit crunch and money is very tight

it costs a lot to support our son and continue doing right.

He likes us and our company and likes the food I cook,

I've dropped some hints and even went so far as to send him here to look.

I've tried ignoring his welfare, this demanding fruit of my womb,

but the little git won't DEFOO us,

so we can't rent out his room

This is not meant as a swipe at the folks at Free Domain Radio.  Anyone who has read my blog will know by now that I have a non conformist attitude to family and relations.  I have pointed young son at said website and he has found it interesting, but he knows which side his bread is buttered on and DEFOO ing is not an option.  Ah well...

For those of you who are uninitiated into the new terminology DEFOOing is when someone decides to separate from their Family Of Origin.  De - Family Of Origin
It used to be called disowning, but it used to be more common from the top down approach whereby aggrieved senior family members would cast ne'er do wells (or non conformists) out into the cold cold snow, never to grace the inheritance list or be mentioned in wills again and to have their name struck from the family bible.

These days it has been re-invented and the poor odd bods are wresting power for themselves by doing before it is done to, and in some cases even where it wasn't going to be done to.

Our family unit has DECOOd (De - Country Of Origin) which has achieved similar effects without us having to deal with flack from 'close' relatives as they are no longer 'close' in any real sense of the word.

We all get on better for a few thousand miles between us I find

Lindsay Lohan, the porn star and the BBC - a blog post on Comment Central on the Times Newspaper website, which made me laugh.

The blogger Daniel Finkelstein is Chief Leader Writer of The Times and he has written an amusing little piece about the BBC who have compiled a list of the 50 most annoying people. Included are Lindsay Lohan, and her lesbian lover and also on the list is a porn star named Ron Jeremy.

As is often the case the comments made by visitors to the blog are even more fun than the very fun blog itself.

I try not to be pedantic if at all possible but certain spelling mistakes are my personal bugbear and so when I found myself wincing over the word 'sort' placed where it should have been spelled 'sought' - my poetry hat leapt from the shelf and soothingly plonked itself on my head.

One thing led to another and this was the result - my post in the comments section. I am not sure if they will approve it, so I have included it here, because I think it was funny and I like to share

Pearls of wisdom.

"Thanks to the BBC for airing the advice of this expert in his field on the matter of bedroom etiquette pertaining this much sort after situation." POSTED BY: J.THOMAS | 6JAN 2009

And thank YOU, J. Thomas, (6 Jan 2009) for that pearl, which I have added to my collection.
POSTED BY: HELEN | 8 JAN 2009

This post has provoked a lot of thought,

about what people 'should' and about what people 'ought'.

Here's my offered 'pearl' sincere and short,

spelling lessons should be sought.

For if one posts in a way that is reckless,

one can end up with a flawed pearl necklace.

POSTED BY: BANANA | 9 JAN 2009