Tag Archives: #24

The Toe-in-the-Water Radio Show – did you miss it?

http:/The’Toe-in-the-Water’RadioShowEpisode8:https://youtu.be/07b2ed1LsqY%5B/embed%5D

The Plight of the Humble B

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#dialogueforaplay (Tweets 106-111)

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 106-111

106

PC Leaves (it’s his name) leaves.

Lady W: Do you think he suspects?

Syd: He hasn’t a clue!

Stiff: He’s not alone.

Tbc

107

Syd: Are you still alive?

Stiff: I’m ‘invincible!’

Lady W: I can see you!

Stiff: Really?

Lady W: As plain as this!

Tbc

108

The dagger gets the stiff ‘really’ dead.

Lady W: Now that ‘we’ have cleared the field, the Whom fortune is mine!

Tbc

109

Syd: Yours?

Lady W: Yes, mine, take this!

Syd: A bottle with ‘Poison!’ writ on it!

Lady W: I’m all out of knives.

Tbc

110

Syd: Do you really think I’m going to drink this?

Lady W: Not at all – that’s why I coated the bottle in poison.

Tbc

111

Syd: You…

Syd dies

Lady W: …win?

PC Leaves returns.

PC: I’m going to need a bigger notebook!

PC Leaves leaves

Tbc

hash-tag dialogueforaplay advert

Washian Roulette

washing the cat

Washian Roulette

Spin, spin, spin;

Will I win?

Red or Black?

Lose or win?

Where and when will the whites within

Choose to land?

Round and round

The machine is sound

It will not play me false 

It dances back and forwards

Like a modern-day Dickensian waltz

The powders and the liquids 

Help to clear my mindings

If it all goes to plan

I shall be pleased with final findings

Spin, spin, spin;

Shall I win?

Or shall the chamber be filled

With a bulletin of promises

That leaves my tears so spilled

Watching and waiting

Waiting and wondering

If all this time I’m waiting for a joining

Or waiting for a sundering.

Spin, spin, spin… 

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?