The bees circling the lavender
lend a subtle droning irony to the day;
Dopplering here,
Dopplering there,
and buzzing about
like they don’t have a care.
Oh to be a bee,
or not to be a bee?
The bees circling the lavender
lend a subtle droning irony to the day;
Dopplering here,
Dopplering there,
and buzzing about
like they don’t have a care.
Oh to be a bee,
or not to be a bee?
Never say ‘Haibun’
when at sea, upon a boat;
your dog, might not float.
It is said, by some, that you should never say ‘Rabbit’ in a boat. The reason being, that your dog, if there is one present, might leap up, in search of said ‘Rabbit’ and go overboard in its efforts to chase it.
This has probably happened in the distant, and dim, past, and may even have some grounding in a far removed event. Dogs do love to chase things; some dogs are trained to chase rabbits. It might even be a built in memory of previous dog generations where an ancestral mutt ploughed headlong into a field after its prey.
A point, at this point, I don’t know whether the above applies to hares or not – that information I haven’t got. They are virtually the same, apart from: the name, the mad March thing, the longer ears, and not much else – to suggest that there is any real difference would only be splitting ha—
Anyway, never should you say, ‘Rabbit’, ‘habit’, ‘jab it!’, ‘dab it!’ or the like, when you are all at sea, in a sea-worthy, sea-going craft.
I laughed, when I first heard of this, and thought it no more than a silly myth.
Heading to see soon after, with Minster the Dachshund in tow, I happened to call across to the master of the vessel, ‘I’m sorry we delayed your departure time, the train was cancelled, we got to the station much later than anticipated, and in order to get here roughly on time, we had to cab it!’
Poor, Minster. It took her hours to swim back to port.
Tuesday came,
and Tuesday went,
I can’t remember
how it was spent;
all I know is
that days must come,
and days must go;
it is the Law of days
that makes it so.
When Monday arrives,
you know that you
have survived the weekend.
Aren’t you
glad
that you had
something to look forwards to?
Written after noon,
and. complete before midnight,
these words must suffice.
.
But, if they do not,
then please write in and complain –
your words ‘do’ matter.
It’s #NationalNoPoetryDay today,
so don’t, under any circumstances,
write anything that rhymes.
You would be advised
to wait until tomorrow
when, once again,
it will be safe
to write verses many.
Please, abide by the rules, do,
and, poetry, do not write any.
Thank you.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #GiveItAMiss, #NationalNoPoetryDay, #nopoetry, #NotTodayJose, #poetry. #poem, #PoetryRules, #ProseRules
Never mind, ‘Are Friends Electric?’
the real question, to hand, is,
‘Are Grapes Acidic?’
Well, it turns out
that they are;
but, not so much as lemons;
but, more so than melons.
Who said that you don’t learn
anything from poetry?
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Acidity, #fruit, #GaryNuman, #Knowledge, #Learning, #nonsense, #PHValue, #poetry. #poem, #silly
Waiting in the waiting area
outside of A&E,
is enough to do your head in
with people’s inaninty.
Then they toddle off for a smoke,
and their name is called,
and all the nurses wonder
how unwell they can be
when cancer-sticks have more import,
than the doctor them to see.
There is an area over ‘there!’
if you really have to recite poetry,
or you could just refrain,
apply a poetry patch,
try and give it up,
read a book,
chew on some gum,
make your mind go numb.
.
You might find
someone of a like mind,
over ‘there!’
So, please honour the signs,
and decline the proffering of rhymes.
Please.
Or we shall be operating
a ‘No Poet’ system
in your vicinity.
On top of Bre Garn,
with the winds whirling round,
I stand with my feet
on the stoniest of ground.
.
With moors laying by,
and a world to my eye,
I am one degree closer
to the Laird in His sky.