Monthly Archives: October 2017

#SoCS Oct. 28/17 – Which/Witch/Wich


#SoCS Oct. 28/17 – Which/Witch/Wich

Linda’s back with another great #SoCS prompt!

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “which/witch/wich.” Start your post with the word “which” and try to fit the word “witch” in somewhere if you can. Bonus points if you use a word that ends in “wich.” As an added rule this week, you will lose all the points you’ve ever earned if you type “which witch is which” anywhere in your post. Have fun!

Thanks to Linda for the prompt and to Ritu for the prod.
My #SoCS is not finished – but, it was written in a gloop of writing yesterday (Saturday) and I thought that you might like to have a ramble through it. G:)

The Old Witch Who Lives in the Old Cottage at the Old Edge of the Old Woods

It’s nearly one o’clock on the edge of the old forest (and almost that time elsewhere, too)
SFX Sounds of cooking (it is a bubbling ‘witches’ broth’)
A. Witch: Dum-de-dum, de-dum-de-dum, it’s one o’clock and time for lunch…
A. Witch (to self): Ah, I know what I like in ‘your’ wardrobe, Mr. Gabriel.
SFX Doorbell rings (but, it is a strange sound as of a doorbell that a witch might have)
A Witch: Coming! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah (like a creaky door). 
SFX unbolting and opening of door.
SFX door creaking open (but delayed due to a slight temporal time warp).
A Witch: Hello, young man. What can A. Witch do for you on this cold and lonely night?
Man: Are you the witch?
A. Witch: I am ‘A’ Witch. I can’t claim to be ‘the’ witch – there are many, many witches, which is to say, I am one of many, and not ‘the’ only one. When all other witches have been cast into their final bubbling cauldron, and only one last witch remains, then ‘she’ shall be ‘The’ witch.
Man: Yes, I see; but, are you ‘the’ old witch that lives in the old cottage on the old edge of ‘that’ old village?
A. Witch: Well, yes, I am that ‘the’ witch. What did you want, old man?
Man: What I want is- did you say ‘old man’? You said ‘young man’ earlier.
A. Witch: I did; but, time is fleeting and madness takes it’s toll you know?
Man: I see, once more, that ‘madness’ is rife in your little world between the village and the wild wood.
A. Witch. It’s high-tide, mid-afternoon, most people just fly by, if they have a broom.
Man: Oh. Is that so? How interesting. But, I really need your help.
A. Witch: You need me?
Man: I need somebody; and not just anybody. Can you please, please help me?
A. Witch: I can help you get your feet off the ground. There’s ‘always’ room on my broom
Man: No, that’s not what I need.
A. Witch: Then tell me what it is or I shall have to turn you into a newt – I do need the eye of a newt for my ‘recipe’ to be complete.
Man: No, please don’t turn me into a newt. 
A. Witch: You could be my newt – which is extremely tiny! My newt! Minute! Get it?
Man: Yes. Do you suppose that we could be serious for a moment?
A. Witch: I can but try. What. Do. You. Need. Help. With?
Man: In the town where I was born lived a man who sailed to sea – it is ‘he’ that I need help with!
A. Witch: In what way do you need help? You have to be more… specific! Details are everything!
Man: He is about six foot tall; has two feet on the end of his legs (one to each side); a black beard that is ‘so’ long, that he keeps in a box; wears a pirate’s garb (his clothes, that is); and answers to the name of ‘da da daaaaaaaan!’
SD There is a pause.
A. Witch: Answers to what, exactly?
Man: Da da daaaaaaaan! It’s what he calls himself. I think it’s long for ‘Dan’, which I hear is short for… ‘dan gerous’.
A. Witch: Oh, a pirate. Why didn’t you say? I have a good spell; no, a fine spell, indeed, for pirates – it makes them seasick and yearn for dry land. Most effective.
Man: That’s not the problem.
A. Witch: It isn’t?
Man: No. 
A. Witch: You are not the most helpful being when it comes to getting to the point, are you?
Man: It has been said.
A. Witch: I have a very important potion brewing within a restless cauldron; if you can’t get to the point at once, I shall have to point you to the door.
Man: Okay. Da da daaaaaaaan has stolen my girl’s heart.
A. Witch: Oooh, messy!
Man: No, he has showered her with gold from his plundering; and jewels from his plundering; and, now, kisses from his-
A. Witch: Plundering?
Man: No? Lips. And she has fallen in love with someone she shouldn’t have.
A. Witch: Never!
Man: Yes, it is so. She has fallen in love with someone-
A. Witch: Da da daaaaaaaan?
Man: Yes, fallen in love with someone-
A. Witch: Da da daaaaaaan the pirate?
Man: Yes. She has fallen in love with-
A. Witch: Someone she shouldn’t have.
Man: Precisely.
A. Witch: Well, thanks be that we got there at last. I also have a potion that can make a man forget.
Man: But ‘she’ is unforgettable!
A. Witch: That’s what ‘you’ are to me. However, for a fee, I shall make you up that potion and you shall never remember her again.
Man: Right! Oh, hold on; I don’t want to forget her.
A. Witch: It’s much easier that way. I can make you forget ‘everything!’
Man: Ummm, well…
TBC

Grae’s Silly Saturday / Sunday Song #5

Just watching a few YouTube videos this morning and this one popped up in our playlist. Worth a listen, methinks G:)


“Amish Paradise”
As I walk through the valley where I harvest my grain

I take a look at my wife and realize she’s very plain

But that’s just perfect for an Amish like me

You know, I shun fancy things like electricity

At 4:30 in the morning I’m milkin’ cows

Jebediah feeds the chickens and Jacob plows… fool

And I’ve been milkin’ and plowin’ so long that

Even Ezekiel thinks that my mind is gone

I’m a man of the land, I’m into discipline

Got a Bible in my hand and a beard on my chin

But if I finish all of my chores and you finish thine

Then tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1699
We been spending most our lives

Living in an Amish paradise

I’ve churned butter once or twice

Living in an Amish paradise

It’s hard work and sacrifice

Living in an Amish paradise

We sell quilts at discount price

Living in an Amish paradise
A local boy kicked me in the butt last week

I just smiled at him and turned the other cheek

I really don’t care, in fact I wish him well

‘Cause I’ll be laughing my head off when he’s burning in hell

But I ain’t never punched a tourist even if he deserved it

An Amish with a ‘tude? You know that’s unheard of

I never wear buttons but I got a cool hat

And my homies agree, I really look good in black…fool

If you come to visit, you’ll be bored to tears

We haven’t even paid the phone bill in 300 years

But we ain’t really quaint, so please don’t point and stare

We’re just technologically impaired
There’s no phone, no lights, no motorcar

Not a single luxury

Like Robinson Crusoe

It’s as primitive as can be
We been spending most our lives

Living in an Amish paradise

We’re just plain and simple guys

Living in an Amish paradise

There’s no time for sin and vice

Living in an Amish paradise

We don’t fight, we all play nice

Living in an Amish paradise
Hitchin’ up the buggy, churnin’ lots of butter

Raised a barn on Monday, soon I’ll raise another

Think you’re really righteous? Think you’re pure in heart?

Well, I know I’m a million times as humble as thou art

I’m the pious guy the little Amlettes wanna be like

On my knees day and night scorin’ points for the afterlife

So don’t be vain and don’t be whiny

Or else, my brother, I might have to get medieval on your heinie
We been spending most our lives

Living in an Amish paradise

We’re all crazy Mennonites

Living in an Amish paradise

There’s no cops or traffic lights

Living in an Amish paradise

But you’d probably think it bites

Living in an Amish paradise

Saturdays are not good days when you are seeking to break your weekly record for views on WordPress. #Tanka

A Metal Vega?


–//–

As I try my best

To beat my existing best 

Of seven hundred

Views in one short week of days

I find myself falling short.

–//–

Saturdays are hard;

People have lives that they live

And reading is out;

But, maybe in the ev’ning;

They might have a few moments

–//–

With which to read one

Or maybe a few Grae posts

And if they like them

Then my stats will pop up so

And I shall reach my week’s goal.

–//–

II do thank you all;

For your long and warm support;

And if I do not

Then I just thank you warmly

And will continue our thing.

–//–

G:)

Just a Normal Man.


He was wearing a twee jacket

Had a potato in his pocket

A tennis racket at his side

A packet of cereal in a 5p carrier bag

A socket set (unused as of yet)

A rocket salad

And the album ‘Bread and Circus’ on vinyl by Toad The Wet Sprocket.
Nobody thought him mad

Nobody questioned his sanity

As he drove off in a shabby white vanity.

The Bears of Bodmin

Arthur Bodmin Plantagenet Goldsack-Sandford

There are bears galore

On Bodmin Moor
I counted them once

There were more than four
I counted them twice

And one was tall
I counted them thrice

And made sure

That I counted them all
I counted them a fourth time

And then put them in a rhyme
One was brown

(His mother’s ruin)

What can you do with an adolescent bruin

One was bi-polar

All ups and downs

And one was a bit grizzly

With tantrums and frowns

Then there was a tiny koala

Asleep by a door

I think there were others

I shall count them, once more.

Indemnity Twice!


I was driving back from Glendale, when…
I drove out to Glendale to…
I never went to Glendale.
Last night I dreamt I went to Glendale again.
Indemnity! Indemnity!
What is it with Glendale?
On the road to Manderley, where the flying fishes do what flying fishes do.
On the road that Jack Kerouac was upon.
Probably not anywhere near Glendale. 
Actually not that far away at all. 
Strange how these things are.
Manderley is largely based upon Menabilly, in Cornwall. Not that far from my whereabouts.
Cool.
Just links in a chain?

“It’s International Banana Day, Today!” said Jane.


“It’s International Banana Day, today!” announced Jane.
“Yippee! Hooray! Yay! Wowzer!” I said, emotionlessly.
“No, sorry, it’s International ‘Bandana‘ Day, today.” corrected Jane with some sympathy.
“Oh.” I said. 
That’s it, nothing more; just ‘Oh.’
Woe is me

And me is woe.

Hodgepodge Pie


Hodgepodge Pie
I don’t know why 

I’m in a hodgepodge pie

Perhaps, I’ll die.
Who put me in?

Little Tommy Green – Though what I ever did to him 

I’ll never know.

Who’ll pull me out?

Anybody?

Hello?

Fan oven to 170 degrees?

That’s quite hot, you know;

And I’m not one for heat;

Help!!!!!!

I Wish I Had A Friend Called… (a poem for the lonely).


I wish I had a friend named ‘nim’

I wish I had a friend ‘fullstop.’

I wish I even knew somebody called Naomi

‘nim’ for short is she

But, tall in height

Compared to a tiny, tiny thing (I can’t think what thing to compare her to)

Anyway, as I was saying,

I wish I had a friend

Called ‘today’.

3.142 Stargazers make…


Looking at a Stargazy Pie

I was looked back at

Eye to eye;

And there is nothing worse

No fear or dread

Than being watched

By an eye that is dead.
I could not eat From of that pie

And I wished the fishes still could fly

In their ocean realm

Under the water

Because every fish

Is someone’s daughter

(or son).

G:)