In–Sects

shallow focus photography of couple ants holding book figurine

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In–Sects

 I started my hobby when 60 years old
I’d left it a bit late I know 
An interest in ladies I soon found out 
Well it gave me somewhere to go

Nothing afraid
I cashed life’s cheques
Every second a buzz
Nothing complex
At simple sex
Never afraid
I plied my trade

Until one day
A well-heeled lady
Enticed me with her laugh
Her chequebook too
Rang loud and true
I fell for her autograph

But then one day
I chanced to say
I was interested in sex
A hobby I wished to follow

But suddenly
Her demeanour changed
She said she was disgusted
And I was maladjusted
Of all the things that she objects 
She said the worst was insects

I tried to make her understand 
A spider with eight hairy legs
Was not my idea of fun
Too late, too late,
She’d upped and left
I was perplexed
I should have guessed
Insects ARE worse than sex

 

chinesebanner

 

 

Advertisements

Sea, Sun, and Hills

clouds dawn dusk forest

Photo by Lukas Kloeppel on Pexels.com

THREE  HAIKU

 

sline6

The Sea

The sea in its strength
Thrusts its breakers to the shore
Stressing my weakness

sline6

The Sun

The morning sun rose
Feeding life into darkness
Renewing with hope

sline6

The Hills

The hills are my strength
Confirming Nature’s promise
That tomorrow lives

sline6

 

I Remember

affection afterglow backlit blur

Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

I REMEMBER

 

 So well I remember, 
Can I forget 
Those long summer days 
When you and I met? 

The moors were in heather 
And I was in haste; 
My heart it was yearning
Your lips to taste.

But you were indifferent,
Your eyes were elsewhere,
Oblivious to me
And life wasn’t fair.

So I buried my pride,
Gave in to sorrow. 
I’d learnt a hard lesson,
There was always tomorrow. 

Now that day it has come 
And we’ve met up again. 
You express your regret 
For the ache, for the pain. 

But I can’t now rekindle 
Those feelings I had. 
Time has taken its toll,
Our story is sad. 

 

banner-red scroll

 

 

 

 

 

‘This Is Just To Say’ – William Carlos Williams

[  # 87 of My Favourite Short Poems  ]

Q. When is a mundane note not just a mundane note?
Q. When is a mundane note a poem?
Q. When is a scribbled note stuck on the fridge door to your wife a poem?

A. When William Carlos Williams writes it – as he did here, as long ago as 1934, when it suddenly  became, in 21st century jargon, ‘viral’.

The more times I read the poem below, the more I am able to see the depth in it.
Contentment in a relationship, acceptance, ease, familiarity, intimacy and even love are all here.

Note how pointedly the title becomes the first line . . .

bar-yellow

sliced fruits on pink ceramic plate

Photo on Pexels.com

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

bar-yellow

The effect of this poem may be enhanced by watching and listening to this YouTube video in which Matthew Macfadyen reads the poem ‘This Is Just To Say’

bar-yellow

WCWilliams

William Carlos Williams ( 1883 – 1963 ) had an English father and a Puerto Rican mother.  He grew up in Rutherford, New Jersey.   He was an American poet, novelist, essayist, and playwright. He was also a physician practising both paediatrics and general medicine.  With Ezra Pound and H.D.Williams he was a leading poet of the Imagist movement and often wrote of American subjects and themes. He became an inspiration to the Beat generation in the 1950s and 60s.  As in the poem above, his poetry was often domestic in focus and was described as “remarkable for its empathy, sympathy, its muscular and emotional identification with its subjects.”

bar-yellow

Fever Pitch

summer

Photo provided by Pexels

FEVER PITCH

 

I was at fever pitch with fervour
Full of fire, desire and lust,
Expectant, hopeful and excited,
Self-contained, but only just.

Summer came, I was excited,
An end to rain and wind and snow;
Warmer weather does delight me,
I’m a sun-child, that I know.

But now the summer has arrived
I’m pleading that it will not last.
I’ve had enough of sweaty T-shirts,
Hoping it will soon have passed.

Hot and bothered by the weather,
Aching for a cooling breeze.
Can’t bear this heatwave any longer,
Send me wind and rain now please.

Banner2b

 

 

 

 

‘Willy-Nilly’ – Reduplication

[ Wednesday Replay # 4 ] 

[  First posted on January 23, 2017  ]

bar-yellow

reduplication

bar-yellow

Definition of reduplication in English …

Reduplication in linguistics is a morphological process in which the root or stem of a word (or part of it) or even the whole word is repeated exactly or with a slight change.  (From: Wikipedia)

bar-yellow

My word-play attempt (I’ve called it, quite arbitrarily, ‘Willy-Nilly’) at composing  a few Nonsense Verses to link together – however tenuously – a number of the very many examples of reduplication in the English language.

bar-yellow

My latest knick-knack
Is a handy-dandy
Criss-cross
Walkie-talkie,
With Wi-Fi;
Better than snail-mail,
It creates a real hubbub
And gives me the harum-scarum
Heebie-jeebies;
But here goes, willy-nilly.

I’m an arty-farty
Culture vulture
I’m not hoity toity
Nor am I a toy-boy;
I love the pell-mell
Hurly-burly
And I don’t shilly-shally;
But I’m really so easy-peasy.
Okey-dokey?

So, let’s hob-nob
And chit-chat;
While the tick-tock
Turns topsy-turvy
And goes ding-dong
And ding-a-ling
We can talk clap-trap. 

Don’t be namby-pamby
Keep the bric-a-brac
Ship-shape
And we’ll have tip-top
Tittle-tattle;
No wishy-washy
Fiddle-faddle.

No ping-pong
No higgledy-piggledy
Ding-dongs,
No tom-toms
On the helter-skelter,
Just ship-shape
Pitter-patter
On the see-saw.

So Jeepers-creepers,
Let’s do the hokey-cokey,
The hip-hop
The hootchy-cootchy
and the boogie-woogie.

Let’s be goody-goody
And super-dooper;
Don’t dilly-dally
Let’s get lovey-dovey
And enjoy a little hanky-panky.

I’m not a nit-wit
Nor a bit ga-ga,
Well, maybe itsy-bitsy;
I do yada-yada
And  blah-blah,
But just a teeny-weeny bit.

Now cut the mumbo-jumbo
Get to the nitty-gritty.
When we pow-wow
With the fender-benders,
And have a happy-clappy
Sing-song
A razzmatazz
On the hurdy-gurdy
Wearing flip-flops;
What a mish-mash
And a hodge-podge,
But still mumbo-jumbo
And hocus-pocus.

I can Zig-zag
And razzle-dazzle
With the bee’s-knees
And in the hurly-burly
Cause double-trouble,
‘Cos I’m just an old fuddy-duddy.

So-so,
Night-night!
Bye-bye!
Ta-ta!
Must chop-chop!
I’m off to a chick-flick –
Called La-La Land,
To listen to more flim-flam.

 

Banner3b

 

Bed-side Blues

SickBed01

“Life is like a half-sucked sweet –
Not what it used to be.”

 

What A Sucker

She brought me gifts to soothe my hurt;
She meant well I suppose,
As in this clinic bed I lay
Attempting just to doze.

She tiptoed gently to my side, 
Pretending not to wake me;
Whispering then into my ear
She raised my spirits greatly.

“Just a few nuts, you’re bound to like,
They’ll help to make you well. 
A peanut a day is good they say,
I don’t know how they tell.

The sickly coating’s not so good, 
So to help you with that cough
I’ve licked them till there’s just the nut
And sucked the chocolate off.” 

 

redline-thin

 

Kurt Vonnegut – ‘Two Little Good Girls’

[  # 86 of My Favourite Short Poems  ]

vonnegut

Known primarily as a novelist, Kurt Vonnegut (1922 – 2007) was an American writer. He published 14 novels, three short story collections, five plays, and five works of non-fiction. He is most famous for his darkly satirical, best-selling novel ‘Slaughterhouse-Five’, published in(1969.

I do like this short poem of his which I came across only recently.  Apparently it was never given a title by Vonnegut and was discovered in a letter of 1961 sent by him to a friend.  It has a delightfully simple and artless warmth which engenders such good feeling and optimism.

 

Two little good girls
Watchful and wise —
Clever little hands
And big kind eyes —
Look for signs that the world is good,
Comport themselves as good folk should.
They wonder at a father
Who is sad and funny strong,
And they wonder at a mother
Like a childhood song.
And what, and what
Do the two think of?
Of the sun
And the moon
And the earth
And love.

 

chinesebanner

 

 

A Dream Enriched

Burne-Jones-The Love Song

Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones: ‘The Love Song’

A DREAM ENRICHED

 She came to me
A dream enriched
When I was most in need.
Long summers passed
And she was there
She held my hand
Until with time
My troubles did recede

 And then
When age had bitten back
She gave her love to me
Without a qualm
She took my arm
For she was Spring
As Autumn came
And I was home at last.

 

bar1

A Bag For Life

bag for life

A Bag For Life

Standing in the queue
at the checkout just last week
I chanced to hear the cashier
to a dear old lady speak,

“Well, my dear, I wonder
if you’d welcome one of these.
It’s called a ‘Bag For Life’,
and will take your goods with ease.”

To which that lady brightly,
with her tongue stuck in her cheek,
Says, “No thank you dear, you see
I’m only here one week.”

 

bar-yellow