Thanks Stephen. I get the feeling that I am not alone in buying cards for myself. Self love is the only genuine emotion. 😂
Thanks for the likes Julie and Tom 👍
Comment is about Happy Birthday... To Me! (blog)
Original item by John Botterill
Wed 27th Jul 2022 02:09
A beautiful, evocative poem, Pete! I loved the line "Castle walls calm and gnarled from the fight." 🌷
Comment is about Nimue (blog)
Original item by Edbreathe
I would have an advantage over other entrants, Stephen, what with me being practised in doggerel.
And thanks for the Like, Stephen and Julie and Holden.
Comment is about MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN. (blog)
Original item by John Coopey
<Deleted User> (33719)
Tue 26th Jul 2022 23:28
<Deleted User> (33719)
Tue 26th Jul 2022 23:26
Knock knock a four nil win,
Into the finals England are in.
Comment is about Knock, knock.who's there ? (blog)
Original item by hugh
Thank you Stephen and Ghazala for you comments they are appreciated. Yes Ghazala unfortunately it is normally women who go through control.
Comment is about Love Hate Relationship (blog)
Original item by Rick Varden
Cheers, John. Don't give up on Crufts yet. I've heard they might be a bit short this year.
Comment is about MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN. (blog)
Original item by John Coopey
Delicate and beautifully concise, Frederick.
Comment is about be-lightedly (blog)
Original item by Red Brick Keshner
Thankyou, Stephen. There's nothing wrong with my kids self-identifying that they are 80 years old; but common sense debars them from getting a pension. There's nothing wrong with me self-identifying as a doberman pinscher; but common sense debars me from entering Crufts.
Comment is about MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN. (blog)
Original item by John Coopey
A perfect poem, Rick. Quite Larkinesque, at least in spirit!
Comment is about Love Hate Relationship (blog)
Original item by Rick Varden
Very funny poem, John. The subject can be very traumatic on an individual level but a line has to be drawn somewhere.
Comment is about MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN. (blog)
Original item by John Coopey
Very amusing poem, John. I know this feeling well!
Comment is about Happy Birthday... To Me! (blog)
Original item by John Botterill
Many of us can relate to this. Well penned.
Comment is about Love Hate Relationship (blog)
Original item by Rick Varden
No bell......this is innovative.
An awesomely hilarious write. 👍
Comment is about Knock, knock.who's there ? (blog)
Original item by hugh
You’re far from the first person to laugh at my singing, MC.
And thanks for the Like, Frederick and Ghazala.
Comment is about MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN. (blog)
Original item by John Coopey
Hi Isabel, I would like to read at Marsden on October, so please add me to contributors. My husband will be coming along too, just as a spectator/driver/encourager!!! (all vital roles!!!)
Thanks
Dorinda (MacDowell)
Comment is about 'Don’t go down to the Railway Inn with anyone else but us!': Write Out Loud's poetry jam returns to Marsden jazz festival venue (article)
Original item by Greg Freeman
Today I gaze into a restful night
one that brings another
moonlight dream of life
a new dawn takes me far far away
from the darkness of death.
Comment is about Tonight (blog)
Original item by Sunshine
Thanks for your likes
Frederick
Holden
Stephen A
Carol
K. Lynn
John B
Ghazala
Stephen G
Ruth
Tom
and
Your Royal Poetess.
Comment is about Lighten Up (blog)
Original item by Nigel Astell
One more chance - - - could make the difference
thanks Carol
Comment is about Lighten Up (blog)
Original item by Nigel Astell
How interesting. And to add to the fun, the name suggests a
modern pop group!!
Comment is about Sneezeweed (blog)
Original item by julie callaghan
If I miss any Amazon deliveries it's now likely due to not hearing
the bell because I'm laughing so much. So...
I blame you JC
Whatever you choose to be
When it comes to identity
Described in your latest ditty!
Comment is about MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN. (blog)
Original item by John Coopey
Fascinating how mothers always seem to see their sons of any age as little boys. is it any wonder the divorce rate is so high? 😏
Comment is about Happy Birthday... To Me! (blog)
Original item by John Botterill
Hi John, thanks for your perceptive comment ! A point at a time here goes. The piece was intended as a swipe at some of the laws we are taught that I could never come to terms with. So in that respect we have a common ground perhaps. The last stanza tried to do that, and the confusion was more or less built in .
The repetition of that line was a trick to reinforce the idea again of the obscure nature of some teaching and how useful life skills are really not covered , at least not when I went to school in the dark ages. The spelling of ladys was well spotted, slipped through the net, thanks. I wasn't quite clear on your point about accidents.
There is a whole other world within drawers and cupboards that could be expressed as you say. The stability of surfaces is a salient one, and reminds me of working on cruise ships in bad weather!
Ray
Comment is about THE LAW OF DISAPPEARING SURFACES (blog)
Original item by ray pool
Thanks Carol and Greg for your kind comments. It was easy to write. I just described what happened haha.
Thanks for the likes Stephen A, Frederick, Tom, K. Lynn and Holden.
Comment is about Happy Birthday... To Me! (blog)
Original item by John Botterill
That's a great poem, John! Comic take on a very poignant moment in life which many of us go through.
Comment is about Happy Birthday... To Me! (blog)
Original item by John Botterill
<Deleted User> (33719)
Tue 26th Jul 2022 04:35
'Don't you think
Looking up deserves
One more chance - - -' ~ yes indeed!!!
Comment is about Lighten Up (blog)
Original item by Nigel Astell
<Deleted User> (33719)
Tue 26th Jul 2022 04:33
Very good! Your words contain a lot of wisdom.
Comment is about be-lightedly (blog)
Original item by Red Brick Keshner
<Deleted User> (33719)
Tue 26th Jul 2022 04:28
An interesting poem Stephen!
Comment is about The Chalice (blog)
Original item by Stephen W Atkinson
<Deleted User> (33719)
Tue 26th Jul 2022 04:25
Tue 26th Jul 2022 00:57
Thank you so much, Stephen and Candice, for your wonderful comments, I truly appreciate them! 😊
Comment is about Keeping Time (blog)
Original item by Holden Moncrieff
The best words in the best order. For a moment
I saw a hint
Of conviviality
I just re-read your majesterial Cezanne poem. It gets better with every reading. Your visual imagination, and your ability to translate the subtle impressions of the three dimensions into words, are just superb.
Comment is about Silly Me. (blog)
Original item by Clare
He sure does. Quite a journey you see. Thanks for lighting the torch for me Nigel.
Comment is about Page 3. NLD (blog)
Original item by Sunshine
Definitely Nigel. By the grace of almighty alone. Thank you.
Comment is about Page 4. NLD (blog)
Original item by Sunshine
Love the irreverence in this one, Holden.
Comment is about Keeping Time (blog)
Original item by Holden Moncrieff
The Garden of Love
BY WILLIAM BLAKE
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.
Comment is about La fille aux cheveux de lin (blog)
Original item by John E Marks
Have you heard of my love, cute Claribel,
the singer who, her voice soaring above the chalk Downs,
from Devil’s Dyke to Balham Cove, became known
as The Brighton Belle?
It was she, who when asked where
she was from by a devoted fan,
one Miss Mary MacVeagle, of county Clare,
answered, ‘Hove, a posh district, west of Brighton.’
Mary commented, ‘Oh, I went there on my honeymoon.’
It was going well and our passion was unlimited,
until I lost my newly-wed, Bob in the Lanes,
and I found him trying on a dress in Skirting With Danger,
a cross-dressing shop.
His answer left me rather dismayed, for he said,
‘‘What’s the matter, don’t I look good in a skirt?’’
‘Oh, I sympathise,’ said Claribel, ‘I fell in love with
an Irish American called Michael O’Leary,
the conductor of an all-female choir, the Sussex Sirens.
‘But he was better known in New York as
Michael-The-Chop McGurk, a chief assassin for the Mob.’
This enthusiastic lady invited us to Erin’s Isle,
where this remarkable singer was hailed
as a magnificent artiste,
attracting musicians from Antrim to Galway.
On a whim I treated her to a spell of island-hopping.
So we packed aboard a Cessna monoplane,
landing on Inishman, that tiny islet just off
County Clare’s Cliffs of Moher.
It was the setting for a crazy TV comedy about two clerics,
Father Mugwat and Fr Patrick McBoffin,
and she felt at home there, with its trotting horse and carts,
so unlike Brighton with its kiss-me-quick hats.
Being members of Wild Swimmers
of Britain (naturists’ section),
we swam under a cliff sans clothes,
the sun reflecting off a silver-backed porpoise,
which shot past like a thunderbolt,
propelling me backwards to cry out in pain,
landing on something sharp and scratching my bottom.
Claribel, laughing at my predicament,
suddenly pointed at a rusty propeller shaft,
the cause of the cut that now disfigured my left buttock.
At that moment the sun suddenly shone through the
haze to illuminate a submerged craft.
Exploring further she squealed with delight,
pointing at the ship’s salt-encrusted name, The Lady Claribel.
Swimming to the surface in case my dripping blood
attracted that well known basking shark,
Fergal – apparently I needn’t have worried
because the ancient mammal
was more likely to lick than bite it – we emerged,
babbling like kids at our discovery,
only to be swept ashore by a mighty wave.
Looking round in alarm, we saw the
shipwreck emerge out of the water,
watched from the cliff by Fathers Mugwat and McBoffin.
The clerics shouted, ‘Listen to the ship’s bell.
You must be blessed, this only happens once in a blue moon.’’
Sure enough we were deafened by a
resounding crescendo, then the newly-emerged
hull disappeared into the watery depths,
the sea perhaps unwilling to part with its reluctant guest.
We swam ashore, my lady friend
hiding her modesty with seaweed,
joking with the holy men, ‘I’m from Brighton, it’s full of weed.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ declared Fr Mugwat,
‘I once inhaled skunk with kids from an estate in Dublin,
who told me it was some sort of smelly animal.
They had a good sense of humour,
those gurriers from Ballyfermot.
‘They laughed at me, the innocent young priest,
vainly trying to teach them about the Venerable Bede.
Oh, my naivety in those days was laughable.’
That night I dreamt a whale swam past me as
I floated in the clear ocean,
the birds shrieking above the wake of its plume,
with a sailor hanging onto its fin, shouting,
‘Tell Claribel to rescue me and my mates
from the place of hidden wrecks,’
while that faithful fan Mary MacVeagle
was standing like a sentinel on the rocks,
pointing to a cave in the cliffs of Moher.
I looked closely and could see a man in the entrance,
wearing a dress and putting on lipstick,
his voice echoing across the water,
‘I was a drag artiste on that ship
which yesterday emerged from the sea.’
I looked at him closely, asking, ‘Are you Bob,
lately married to Mary.’
‘Indeed I am.’
‘Your ex says you’re a good turn – do you fancy
supporting my girlfriend at her concert tomorrow?
You’ll attract the youngsters, they’re starved of ‘cool’
entertainment on this island of Inishman.’
The following evening I was getting the stage
ready for the evening’s entertainment, Claribel Sings Classical,
when in walked a fellow I vaguely recognised,
Bob the drag artiste.
While outside stretched a queue of teenagers,
and on the noticeboard was a poster saying,
‘Before the main act a surprise guest will
dress as a woman, and sing falsetto.’
A figure loomed at my shoulder,
'Looks like it’s going to be a good show,’
and I looked round to see a Catholic priest.
Then Bob came out, ‘Do you think I could
borrow Claribel’s skirt?’
A battered old car then braked to a halt,
disgorging an old chap, followed by Fr McBoffin,
crying, ‘Let there be praise for
a sinner returned, Michael O’Leary.’
The island’s policeman, Guarda Hank McHandcuff,
muttered, ‘Aye, better known to the FBI as
Michael-The-Chop McGurk.’
Just then I heard a ship’s bell ring, and to my amazement
that rusty shipwreck we’d earlier encountered sailed
in and berthed at the quay,
disgorging a load of bedraggled sailors,
led by Claribel, singing a sea shanty,
Sweet Ladies Of Plymouth.
‘How do you like my choir,’ she called out.
The lead sailor responded, ‘We’d sing better
with a barrel of rum.’
As they all piled into the hall, I said to the cleric,
‘Can I wake up now?’
‘I wouldn’t,’ he said, ‘you’d miss all the fun.’
Comment is about The Little Susans (blog)
Original item by Kevin Vose
Fantastic & Fantastical, Holden. 🌈
Comment is about Keeping Time (blog)
Original item by Holden Moncrieff
Mon 25th Jul 2022 16:40
Thank you so much for your very kind words, John, your support always means a lot to me! 😊
Comment is about Keeping Time (blog)
Original item by Holden Moncrieff
Soul of peace
Spring Summer
Autumn Winter
The tree within
lives forever more.
Comment is about Page 4. NLD (blog)
Original item by Sunshine
He guides your every move for each secret to unfold.
Comment is about Page 3. NLD (blog)
Original item by Sunshine
Brilliant, Holden. One of your finest in my view. Superbly well observed and constructed!
Comment is about Keeping Time (blog)
Original item by Holden Moncrieff
Dear Ray
I didn't really understand the last stanza (apart from the irony of the teacher's desk being a good example) because I'm useless at stuff like Physics. I don't think you need the last two lines of the first stanza as you've already said it in Line 1. Also, shouldn't it be 'ladies'' (plural)? But there are many such laws that are not scientifically recognised or taught eg. Accidents are always completely unexpected (but these laws are 100% true). It just occurred to me that the same could be said of drawers and cupboards. They tend to get filled up. If you made surfaces not horizontal they'd lose one of their purposes.
Comment is about THE LAW OF DISAPPEARING SURFACES (blog)
Original item by ray pool
Mon 25th Jul 2022 09:10
Once again thank you for liking my latest poem "Malus Ivius". Its much appreciated!
Comment is about Holden Moncrieff (poet profile)
Original item by Holden Moncrieff
Red Brick Keshner
Wed 27th Jul 2022 13:33
Thank you kindly: Carol Congalton, John Botterill, and Stephen Gospage. Your encouraging words are much appreciated.
Comment is about be-lightedly (blog)
Original item by Red Brick Keshner