Monthly Archives: October 2016

Me: Siri? Is a coconut a coconut?

Siri: I have found a site that states that a coconut is ‘usually’ a coconut. Try here to seek further verification.

Me: Sorry, Siri, what I meant to ask was: is a coconut a nut?

Siri: That makes more sense. No, a coconut is not a nut, neither is it a fruit nor a vegetable… furthermore it is not a potato neither is it a banana; it has never claimed to be an aardvark; and only on one occasion (as far as is known) has a coconut tried to pass itself off as an occasional table.

Me: Thank you Siri.

Siri: You are welcome. If you would like to ask any further stupid questions feel free.

Me: Quite.

The words that I write
Don’t always hit the right spot;
A rite of passage?

I have nothing to say;
No poetry today,
So please don’t bother
To read this.

Come back on another day
When, hopefully, I may
Have words of worth
Writ upon the earth
Both physically and literally.

So, off you toddle
To get on with unfinished
(Or unstarted) projects
That need to be done;
Whilst I sit here
And contemplate the irony
Of smoothing out my lumpy words
Or just ceasing with the thoughts of decreasing them
Before they get out of hand
And land
Unavoidably
Upon this empty space…
Let’s face it,
You’d be better off
If you had more money
But, only financially…
Probably.

A figure of fun
Is not the one
To lead your count-a-ry
A figure of fun
Is not the one
So stop his trumpery
He’s mad, America, mad? yes!
Goodness can’t you see
That figure of fun
Is not the one
So stop his tomfoolery.

Think on me when I am gone

Think on me
When I am gone
As if I were
A departed scone
And fondly remember
That tea-time treat
With cream atop
And jam so sweet
And pronounce me gone
As if a scone
Unless alone
When you ‘can’ say scone.

(In un accento scozzese)
Io vivo in Tartan
E anche se ho un accento scozzese cattivo
Io non sono scozzese
Ma, di tanto in tanto,
Sono un po ‘ombroso
Che potrebbe essere solo nervi
O più probabilmente il fatto che io vivo in Tartan!

(In a Scottish Accent)
I live in Tartan
And even though I have a bad Scottish accent
I am not Scottish
But, occasionally,
I am a little skittish
Which could just be nerves
Or more likely the fact that I live in Tartan!

As I was walking to St. Ives
I…
Had an idea for a poem;
And ‘this’
Is it…

As I was walking to Milan
I met a man, an Italian
And also walking with that man
Was that man’s gran, another Italian.
I said ‘Ciao!’
And they said ‘hi!’
And then we went on our ways
Just passers-by.

And how did I know
That the man and his gran
We’re both undoubtably Italian?

Well, I could tell by their accents;
For, when they said ‘hi!’
As we travelled along
And passed each other by
I could hear in their voices
And see in their eyes
And read the logo on his t-shirt
Which read ‘IT is me!’
And you just can’t argue
With ‘that’ logicalitaly!

Will: You’re a complete Herbert.

Ben: Why, thank you, kind sir.

Will: I don’t think that it was a compliment, Ben.

Ben:No? Well, it’s probably the closest I’ll get, Will. Compliments are few and far between when you are Ben Jonson.

Will: I wouldn’t know, Ben; not being Ben Jonson, myself.

Ben: True, Will. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.

Will: it was certainly a cruel twist of fate that chose you to bear that monicker, Ben.

Ben: Yes. I feel that even Monica Jonson would have been better.

Will: And, moreover, it would have suited you admirably; what with your penchant for the ladies.

Ben: I didn’t realise that the Jacques were separated at this time in history.

Will: Obviously, Ben. There have been complaints.

Ben: Not from me.

Will: No. (Will pauses for a moment) Ben?

Ben: Yes, Will.

Will: Promise me that you will look up the word ‘Irony’ in a dictionary today.

Ben: I will and I shall, Will.

Will: Do so and you ‘may’ learn something.

Ben: Do you think so, Will.

Will: I think that you had better look up ‘Coppery’ as well, it will steel your mettle.

Ben: I shall, indeed I shall. Oh, joyous day.

(Ben exeunts left in search of a Johnson’s dictionary)

Will: Hey ninny go!