Twenty-Four – A Stream of Consciousness Poem 24-04-2013 by Graeme Sandford

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Bonjour, c’est le vingt-quatre d’Aprille

With its sweet showers

Still, it could be worse.

And maybe it will be.

 

Twenty-four hours from Tulsa –

Wherever that is.

24/7 – all of the time, basically

Every second of every minute of every day – for ever.

 

Twenty for – none against: carried unanimously;

With no animosity at any stage of proceedings.

Mis-leading is the word, haven’t you heard;

It’s not ‘Grease’ anymore.

 

’24’ with Kiefer Sutherland, a day in a day;

Though I preferred Donald, his dad, Cloudbusting his way

Through a Kate Bush video from the eighties;

When ‘Cloudbusting’ was incomparable to ‘Shipbuilding’.

 

Every month has twenty-four days! Discuss.

And if there are 50 ways to leave your lover,

I’d like Paul Simon to have listed at least 24 of them;

However, it was probably a ‘title before the content’ situation

– Still, it’s still a good song after all these years.

 

Twenty-four: the number of fingers and toes

Of an alleged Anne Boleyn after she received the chop!

And Jake the Peg had one more on top.

If that’s still a comment that I am free to make.

 

Twenty-four, an Earth day’s whore;

A matter of Planetary Law;

A time in which to be, and that is for sure;

Virtually a time-scheme for all, rich or poor.

 

Diddly-squat – a random replacement,

What the smile on my face meant –

Diddly-bit, Diddly-some, Diddly-few, Diddly-squat –

And so on, if that’s your wont, your unaccustomed bent.

 

Twenty-four, rather far-fetched in its outlook;

The last hour of the day, that is actually nothing

Nil, nada, rien, sip, zero, blap, prosh, menkif, elnse;

And a few other made-up words of little or no consequence.

 

And in a sequence, Wikipedia says it comes ‘after twenty-three’

And ‘before twenty-five’; though I am disinclined to believe that;

Maybe I am a disbelievist, maybe one of those exists;

Maybe I am a man, who likes to dissect lists, or maybe I’m not.

 

Maybe, there is no ‘maybe’ about it.

Maybe there is. Sometimes ‘quelquefois’ slips into my mind;

I find it there waiting for a moment when a French-type

Asks me if I ‘aimez le vie’ and I can reply with an apposite word,

But, don’t.

 

Contrary to opinion, I agree with the rest, until I reach a point

When I suggest that perhaps ‘for a change’ they could agree with me;

Then they pick up their football and go back to their maison dans la rue –

It’s true; it’s what they are programmed to do.

 

Twenty-four green bottles hanging on a wall.

Then the wall fell over, and there were no green bottles,

Just a lot of clearing up to do;

And so I did it, wouldn’t you?

One response to “Twenty-Four – A Stream of Consciousness Poem 24-04-2013 by Graeme Sandford

  1. That’s what happens when it’s not your ball… MPc

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