LEADERS - not followers

Saturday, April 30, 2011

DAY 30 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


LAST SHOUT?

Before you know it…
well…it’s all over.
That’s bar the shouting,
which in this here case
(and here at this place
- The Rub a Dub Dub -
which in this here case
is only the name
of your local pub
- not some Cockneyesque
Rhyming Slang thingy -
on tonight’s mission
to get legless; drunk,
you and your mates)
means shouting as in
shouting up the ale.
Your final round of drinks


YOUR FINAL ROUND OF DRINKS
(A Syllable Sestina)

“Your final round of drinks?”
Winks – “Pour off, my sound gal!”
Mal Brown sinks four… sigh… quaff
Froth shall fly! Blink, roar, frown…
Browned off? Normal… Drinks dry
five rounds – stinks of alc… More…?

Friday, April 29, 2011

DAY 29 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


I WOKE UP THIS MORNING…
(in a ditch within Crawling Distance of home)

Friday night, just finished work
By work I mean that thing I do
With bright orange, reflective tape
(Y’know, the sort that indicates
A potential roadside hazard)
To pass the time until that thing
That we all live for - the weekend
I’m not talking about that
Crime Scene/Police Line Do Not Cross/
Danger – Unexploded Mine
Type of tape, but rather that
Bog-standard, common or garden
Bright orange, reflective stuff
Supported by steel spiked poles
Used to cordon-off areas
To warn of road works… and such like
Y’know, to prevent accidents
That’s the theory, anyway
And the way the whole thing works
This very theoretical
Accident prevention thing
Is all down to one thing; this:
The reflective properties
Of the ultra-bright orange tape
Which is not only reflective
No – more, so much more than this
It’s thoughtfully reflective
Indeed one might even say
Considerately
reflective
Because not only is it
Reflective of the light of day
But also it’s reflective
Of artificial light sources
During the hours of darkness
Which means you’d really have to be
Some kind of fool to miss it
…Wouldn’t you?

Thursday, April 28, 2011

DAY 28 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

For Mad Kane’s humour blog
And posted to Writers Island


GOOD FIGHT

A fellow who loved a good fight
Had a go at the wrong guy last night
One punch to the jaw
Sent him straight to the floor
And our fellow was out like a light

A fellow who loved a good fight
Said ‘Come on then’ to guys twice his height
To guys twice his weight
‘Who you lookin’ at, mate?’
And to everyone else, ‘I’m hard… right!’

A fellow who loves a good fight
Gets involved in a brawl every night
He warns when he starts
He can do martial arts
A bit like Bruce Lee, but not quite…

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

DAY 27 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


OVER TIME

So you’re lying there
Feeling quite pleased with yourself
Feeling pretty smug
And you remember
Why it is you feel so smug
It’s only because

Despite getting drunk
You still managed to get home
On your own two feet
And you remembered
To set your mobile’s alarm
…Weekend overtime

Which doesn’t pay you
Enough to cover last night
What you drank, smoked, ate
But still worth having
Even after Income Tax
…Just about… innit?

It’s almost as though
You’re willing; even daring
The alarm to ring
And in doing so
You’re actually causing it
To sound its ringtone

Just as these smug thoughts
Of Mission accomplished, and
Next weeks fat pay cheque
Navigate the space
(Empty space) between your ears
The useless thing sounds!

And the reason for
The sudden transformation
From ordinary
Common or garden
Mobile communicator
To a ‘useless thing’?

A look at the time
Tells you it’s nine fifteen
Not seven fifteen
You’ve gone over time
Late for work an hour ago
What’s all that about?

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

DAY 26 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


FAST FOOD TO TAKE AWAY OR SIT-IN

To the chippy with Charlie it is then
“Fish ‘n’ chips twice mate,” Charlie shouts
Looks like he’s ignoring you, Charlie boy
“Fish ‘n’ chips twice mate,” he shouts again

“I heard you the first time, second and third
Saying ‘fish ‘n’ chips twice’ two times, makes four
Makes some people laugh… but you look drunk
So I’ll just… get your fish ‘n’ chips… twice”

“That would be nice, if you’d be so kind
Because what I really wouldn’t like
Is to have to ask you for a sixth time
I know my limit and you should know yours”

“Ha ha… a sixth time… I like your style…
O.K I’ll… just get on with it then”
“You’re a gentleman and a scholar
But I bet you already knew that”

“Oh, by the way, is it takeaway
Or is it, perchance, to sit-in?
Thought I’d better ask, ‘cos you never did say
And I wouldn’t like to get it wrong”

“Is that another one of your daft ‘jokes’… ?”
“What d’you mean…? Oh, I see… SIT in
You don’t wanna be sitting in your food
…I really never thought of it like that”

Monday, April 25, 2011

DAY 25 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island

Brenda at Beyond the Bozone set us a wordle using the following words: cheap, steal, tissue, tattoos, quenching, pinwheels, replenish, piquant, diminished, creep, eternal, sharp, squeeze


INDELLIBLE

Sharp shooter, standing by
to squeeze artistic trigger,
designed tattoos proclaiming
promise of eternal life.

…They didn’t steal the creep show.

They (just like those pinwheels
of responsibility)
diminished to a three-ply
tissue of lies, lies, lies.

Merely cheap, fast comfort food
served with a piquant relish.
No intent to replenish;
just to leave a raging thirst

…that knows no quenching drink

Sunday, April 24, 2011

DAY 24 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


FAST

On Friday nights we go to the pub
And meet up with a guy called ‘Fast’ Pete Jones
Asking him to shout up a round is
Like trying to get blood out of a stone

It’s true to say that Fast is really slow
But in a way he can be really fast
He’s always the first to ask ‘Who’s shout?’
But he makes sure he always shouts up last

He times his arrival at the pub
To coincide with the first pint being downed
So he’ll be last in line for the shout
And shouldn’t need to get a second round

Our mate Fast is a man with a plan
On a mission to dodge the rounds
Get drunk as a skunk, eat a takeaway
And all for only twenty pounds

Or sovs, or nicker, or even quid
Whichever slang term you prefer
Or years ago you could have said ‘notes’
When pound coins were still made out of paper

But what’s it gonna be on the menu tonight?
If Fast doesn’t waste his money on a cab
Maybe steak and kidney pudding and chips
Or perhaps he’ll get a doner kebab

He can never rush decisions like these
(We’ll make him buy more beer if we can)
But one thing’s for sure with our mate Fast
He’ll make certain he achieves his plan

Saturday, April 23, 2011

DAY 23 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


HOW NAIROBIC?

When Doktir Nairobi speaks
The words of The Ancient Ones
“Close your eyes and visualise…”
Using Month Sixty techniques
Sixty degrees separate
The Pan-Pacific Process
From the other side of Time

The Transatlantic Thought Club
Enters a new dimension
Time and Space turn full circle
Three hundred sixty degrees
And Eternity transforms
From a theory; a concept
To an infinite domain

Inhabitants of Tiny Tree
Take a break to visit Time
Travellers like you and me
Experience Life On Earth

Time out from Eternity
To learn the lessons of Life
Our aim; to remember why
And from where and when we came

We use the Memory Chain
It’s not rocket science, it’s
Space Travel For Beginners
…How Nairobic is that…?



Doktir Nairobi is a fictional character
from the pen of Andy Sewina.
Click HERE to find out more.

Friday, April 22, 2011

DAY 22 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


I WANT, I WANT, I WANT!


When I stop to think
I often ask myself
What is it I want?
And then I ask myself
What do I want more?

I’m not a kid, you know
I know what I want
I don’t want everything
Just a tiny bit
Of everything there is

Most of all I want
The freedom to be free
Free to spread my wings
To soar above contempt
And be who I am

Another thing I want
Generosity
To leave you in no doubt
Of my intention
To give without question

Finally I want
The time to take in all
The love you can give
Your love keeps me happy
Wanting for nothing

Grant my three wishes
And I’ll be content
I’ll have all that I need
And, my life complete
I’ll die a happy man

Thursday, April 21, 2011

DAY 21 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

For Mad Kane’s humour blog

And posted to Writers Island


CHUMLEY WOOSTERSHIRE TAME

A guy with a very long name
Claimed the same was to blame for his shame
Not just double-barrelled
It started with Harold
And went on – Cholmondley-Worcestershire-Thame

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

DAY 20 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


OLD GUYS

So, there’s this really old guy
With white hair and everything
Sitting in the pub tonight

Must be eighty at a guess
You’re thinking but you won’t ask
That’s because you’re too polite

Or too scared by the warning
The old guy continues with
Even as you’re deciding
Maybe just seventy eight

Because the oldest person
That you ever knew before
Was seventy eight years old
And looked very similar

…With white hair and everything

Though maybe a bit fatter
Than this old guy in the pub
But other than that, you think
Vey similar looking

…Although that guy could have been
An inch, two inches shorter

…Or would that have been taller?

Doesn’t really matter now
The one you knew dropped down dead
About seven years ago

But was very similar
…White hair… and… everything

…Or was he seventy six?

Whatever; the only thing
You’re able to remember
This other old guy saying
Just before you take your seat

Is, I quote; “And I should know
I’m seventy two years old
At least, that is, I will be
If I see this whole year out”

Which is so disappointing
Because you so wanted him
To be, say, seventy six

Even better still, eighty
As you initially thought
Then he’d definitely be
The oldest old guy you’d known

And you always get a buzz
When a new and personal
Record is set… don’t you just?

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

DAY 19 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island

From a suggestion by Dominic Berry of Animal Writes
First line: His greatest fear was…
And include some or all of these words: green, salt, clouds, shatter, sticky, ostrich, nails, oil, baking, peel,


IT’S JUST NOT CRICKET

His greatest fear was the other side
Where the green, green grass is always greener
And there just ain’t a man between you worth his salt
Their
heads are in the clouds, the other team’s are
Don’t wanna shatter anyone’s illusions
But you might just reach the same conclusion
That you’re always on a sticky wicket
When your cricket team’s heads are buried in the sand
Just like the proverbial ostrich
But why so nervous?
No nails, he’s chewed his fingers to the bone
‘cos their captain’s done a runner with his wife
No-one home to linseed oil his cricket bat
Do the baking, peel the spuds
What was responsible for that?
His greatest fear was

Monday, April 18, 2011

DAY 18 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island
Brenda at Beyond the Bozone set us a wordle using the following words:
Silver, phrase, scars, inept, forever, message, flattery, perfume, sprouting, crescendo, crude, recounts


ANNIVERSARY


Unopened package
Contents; predictable

Printed message
‘FOREVER BEAUTIFUL’

Same ironic phrase
Same crude attempt at flattery

This gift of cheap perfume
The same inept apology
He uses every year

Anger taking root
Sprouting dark thoughts
That build to a crescendo
As she recounts the incident…
The cause of those silver scars

Sunday, April 17, 2011

DAY 17 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


SHED GEAR

It’s all shed gear though, innit?
Not stuff you put in your shed
Stuff that does your shed, right in

Remember; when I say ‘shed’
I obviously mean ‘head’
And I’ll qualify that

Not stuff you put on your head
No… I’m not talking head wear
Like it’s some French to English

Guillaume; meaning William
Garderobe; meaning Wardrobe
Or Gear; translating to Wear

G to W exchange
Thingy, or something like that

No… Stuff that does your head in
And I mean right in… Got it…?

Saturday, April 16, 2011

DAY 16 - NAPOWRIMO 2011

Posted to Writers Island


AN OFFER I CAN REFUSE

None of what they say to me
Is written down on paper
Do they really think they can
Expect me to remember?

Some of what they say to me
Seems to contradict itself
Their minds forever changing
In a constant state of flux

Half of what they say to me
Is intended to confuse
The other half is bullshit
That’s not just my opinion

Most of what they say to me
Is inept and insincere
Delivered by their spokesmen
And designed for flattery

All of what they say to me
Sounds hastily prepared
The words they use sound hollow
And the way they say them, crude

Finally they say to me
‘Take your time to think it through’
What I want to say to them
Would be better left unsaid