Discombobulation is the way out of
Stagnation,
If you have imagination and want
Illumination,
Instead of
Frustration,
So bring it on
Now, not later on,
To get to my final
Destination:
Discombobulation!
Clever Dick
Richard was a man
With a nasty trick:
He lived by a nasty plan:
Make people sick.
He also was extremely capable
Of seeing quite far.
Sadly, this was not debatable -
He really was the star.
How he did it, nobody knows,
People got ill in dozens and scores.
Aunties and cousins and folks without toes
Fell to his baleful, distance-ignoring, sickening blows.
While nobody twigged that he was the cause.
So, did this all mean
That people, as such, would end,
No matter if they were enemy or friend?
Would it just take time
Before all would be gone,
That there would be no one left on Earth
For me to befriend?
Well, no! Of course not!
That could never, ever be the decree.
Though we know there’s coming
A getting-the-wind-up squall that’ll
Envelope us all - the ubiquitous
Virtual re-al-i-T...and Chat GBT.
But, as you can see
I am here, quite well, and indefinitely me.
About Richard? And his sickness attack?
Did he achieve, for long, his horrible murderous spree?
No, he did not, his ailful glare in fact
Encircled the globe
And stabbed him in the back,
Just behind his temporal lobe.
Too late he’d learned
What’s known by
Even the lowliest worms -
And certainly by Old Nick -
Never dismiss such archaic terms as
Alas and alack!
And try your very best -
Whether God-fearing or ag-nos-tic -
To pass the gold litmus test -
And never be a Clever Dick.
…I want to
Put a cat among the pigeons
A flea in someone's ear,
To engage in a flight of fancy,
To sink some really small beer!
I want to sail across the seas
And plumb the ocean deep;
To do exactly as I please,
And have my beauty sleep!
Yes, I know these are all hackneyed phrases,
You know, the proverbial whatsisname,
But, no matter what you say, come what may,
It's OK by me, thanks all the same!
'Cos I want to
Fight the good fight, all ends up,
And have an axe to grind,
To know just how many beans make five,
To say, 'How terribly kind!'
I want a fair crack of the whip,
Come home on the pig's back;
Go on that fabulous trip -
But, of course, on the right track!
Yes, I know these are all hackneyed phrases,
You know, the proverbial whatsisname,
But, no matter what you say, come what may,
It's OK by me, thanks all the same!
…'Cos I want to
Burn the candle at both ends
And go from bad to worse,
Never 'be there always for my friends' -
Know it all, chapter and verse!
I want to drown the impossible dream
And never have enough,
Ford the deepest bloody stream
And to never give a stuff!
Yes, I know these are all hackneyed phrases,
You know, the proverbial whatsisname,
But, no matter what you say, come what may,
It's OK by me, thanks all the same!
…'Cos I want to!
For when you feel like a bit of Chinese – a Peke
For when you feel nippy – a Blue Heeler
For when you feel on edge – a Border Collie
For when you just want to slobber – an Irish Setter
For when you’re bouncy flouncy – a Pomeranian
For when you’d like a BBQ – a Dachshund
For when you need a stiff drink – a Scotch Terrier
For when you have a sore throat – a Husky
For when you’re in exaggeration mode – a Bull Dog
For when you feel like something expensive – a Deerhound
For when you need to go to the, you know – a Poodle
For when you have to make a lot of noise – a Dingo
For when you’re feeling small – a Chihuahua
For when you do some smooth talking – a Silky
For when you’re feeling flighty – a Papillon
For when you’re lost – a Bloodhound
For when you’re feeling hungry – a Chow
For when you want to go 10 rounds – a Boxer
For when you have a question to ask - a Weimaraner
For when you need some discipline – a Whippet
For when you feel somewhat spotty – a Dalmation
For when you’re in a bad mood – a Shih Tzu
But when you want a dog for all seasons, for sure,
It has to be – a Labrador!
‘Twas a dark and stormy night
Thundering above.
Both were spoiling for a fight,
With lots of push and shove.
He came at her, stiff and proud,
Fierce face quite absurd,
He flashed down from a cloud,
Yes, he was a bird!
She stood her ground, looking mean,
Sharpened claws ready,
He failed to break or lean - or
Even steady.
Down, down he came, careless freak,
Heedless of his fate,
He opened wide his beak
And, oh, dear, mate!
Because he was just a sparrow,
Even though all heart,
Through the lion, like an arrow,
Out as a little…!
Be right, but not righteous
Be kind, but not condescending
Be humble, but not falsely so
Be happy, but know others are not
Be good, but not zealous
Be firm, but not unbending
Be fun, but not hurtful
Be gracious, but not ‘smart’
Be brave, but not stupid
Be calm, but not careless
Be strong, but not boastful
Be thoughtful, but not tied
Be true, but not blind
Be ‘blue’, but not blue
Be fine, but not fined
Be always your you.
Flutter by, butterfly,
Wings of blue
Shimmering rainbows
Ev’ry hue.
Flutter by, butterfly,
Wings of green
Shimmering rainbows
Magic seen
Flutter by, butterfly,
Wings of gold
Shimmering rainbows
Not to hold.
Flutter by, butterfly,
Wings of me
Shimmering rainbows
Flying free.
She began as a bit from this and a bit from that.
She grew, one amongst a few, then more,
reaching slowly upwards, and then outwards.
The few became many
as her leaves unhid countless buds,
and the buds turned to countless blooms.
Blooms of many colours,
colours she loved,
and colours others saw and loved.
And these colours changed as she grew,
with time, with change -
some for a second, some for always.
And she became what she was always going to become.
A Chameleon Flower.
There is a small island across a black sea
Towards the sunset, westerly,
With long golden beaches, hills heather kissed,
Wide bays, still lochs, and sweet soft mist.
There lived a proud man
In castle of stone,
Loved by his clan, but
All alone.
And on that small island across the black sea,
Towards the sunset, westerly,
The lonely young chieftain wed his sweetheart:
Gold days, still nights, never apart.
There lived a proud man
In castle of stone,
Loved by his clan, yet
Still alone.
The years slowly passed, he began to despair,
When would he get his son and heir?
Then came a night’s ending, goldening dawn –
From out of pain a son was born.
He was strong, he was fair,
Yes, from legends spun,
A father’s prayer was
His one son.
Across their small island his son roamed so free,
His life a golden melody.
Along broad beaches, over the hills,
Jumping, running, swimming in rills.
Building a new man,
Well vers’d in life’s guile,
To lead the clan in
Yet awhile.
Then away from their home, across the black sea,
The sounds of battle, stridently.
Alarums were sounded, loud was the call,
‘Help us! Save us! Answer our call!’
He sharpened his sword
And hefted his shield,
Gathered his horde, all
Hearts full steeled.
They carried his body back o’er the black sea,
Along a gold path, westerly.
Back to the island home, to the old chief
Awaiting his son: grief, oh grief.
And there they were buried,
The old and the young,
Together again, and
Their song sung.
What does it take, my friend,
To begin a dream?
A thought, a whim,
A hazy scheme
Is all that it takes to
Begin a dream.
What does it take, my friend,
To grow a dream?
Commitment and
A pleasant theme
Is all that it takes to
Grow a dream.
What does it take, my friend,
To spread a dream?
The right time and
A proper team
Is all that it takes to
Spread a dream.
Well, that’s all very fine and true,
And if that was all we had to do -
The world would be drowning in
Streams of dreams!
So, what else is there,
Oh, would-be entrepreneur?
Character and courage,
Seeing good in roughage!
Knowing that gain may be
Disguised as pain;
Walking, crawling each extra mile,
All the time with style;
And finally, my friend who dares
To sip this cup,
Give love, and laughter,
And never give up.
That’s what it takes.
My love bears my name
But she is herself
She is loving
And loyal
Steadfast and brave
My love is beauty
All that I need or want
And she bears my name.
One road leads off to the left, along the ridge.
It climbs slowly, the path lit by the pale moon,
Strewn with stones and an occasional bridge,
Where the palest light is a miracle boon.
Trees along the way become stunted and small,
The path petering out roughly here and there,
But as the way fades the sky grows tall,
And the mountain air grows fair.
The other, broader, road curves gently down hill,
Descending slowly, moonlight useless in trees,
Easy walking, where light and sound stand still:
It all – life, light, sound, shade – seems designed to please.
Descending further, the valley opens wide
With fields and farms, orchards, and life-sending streams,
And houses, with warming fires inside,
Where people begin their dreams.
The first road climbs upward to the highest high,
Reaching past moonwards to Jupiter and Mars.
And as it winds up to beneath the sky
We see stars beyond stars beyond stars.
And there we stand, mind gazing far beyond eyes,
Questing. What is there, past time and past vast space?
What is there causing life to arise?
Are we alone in this place?
In houses and places where those people live,
They and their children, too, do quest and explore.
Is life a thing for us to take or give?
Is this all there is, or just could there be more?
What’s out there beyond our stars, what’s within our minds?
What happens as a wonderful thought explodes
As all mankind finally finds
Truth in the song of the roads.
A kangaroo and a kiwi
Sat down to dinner one day.
Said the kiwi to the kangaroo,
‘Before we eat we pray.’
They sat there, the national pair,
The kiwi and the ’roo,
Replied the latter to the former,
‘Well, then, go on, cockle-doodle-do!’
But just then up flew a kooka,
Who landed in a tree,
And promptly said to the prior two,
‘How about a prayer, and some food, for me?!’
Well, one and two looked up at him
Perching near the sky,
And said, together, huffily, ‘If you must,
‘But wouldn’t you rather fly?!’
Before an answer came from the leaves
Other voices joined in:
Echidnas, parrots, wombats and frogs!
Clamouring a dinner din.
Birds and beasts and creeping things
Came from near and far.
Even a flock of barrister birds
Looking for a muesli Bar!
Overhead the sky was dark
With more and more arriving,
Our ’roo and kiwi began to kark -
There was now no chance of surviving!
Yes, pretty soon we were all over there,
Shrieking our culinary wishes,
Hundreds, thousands, millions of fable,
Seated, raucously, at kiwiroo table -
Thank God for loaves and fishes!!
Then came the Big Bang,
Which rang, for better or worse,
Through the baby
Universe.
Without a sound or any ground
Or anyone far or near to
Hear.
There wasn't a frog or a dog,
Or a pitch. And a wish
Wouldn't appear for years -
Multimillennia, actually.
And as for gods and bogs
And things like tears and fears -
They all had to wait for the first
Fish.
My letters
To you
Over which I sweat and strain
Are like stones
Dropped into a pond
And never seen again.
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