One of those domestic hazards has occurred. One that is a lifeline for all of us. Yes, the toilet seat has broken! A real blow for any household and mankind.
So how I could not resist a toilet triolet?! A nonsense verse which could actually hit home! Do read on …
Toilet Triolet
The white toilet seat is broken
It was only put in recently
At first I thought you were joking
The white toilet seat is broken
That cheap screw was just a token
That was fitted in feebly
The white toilet seat is broken
It was only put in recently
Well, that was fun. A bit of toilet humour occasionally (more often in my case) never hurt anyone. Now, I know there’s an inner toilet in all of you, so toilet poems on a postcard to Dobby please…
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon……..
Well, back to poetry prompts from the wonderful Sue Burge’s mind gym. This time it’s using words with ‘Ex’ and possibly ‘ly’. I only managed one of the latter but I got in there with the ‘ex’s’.
I drew so many women last night during I Claudius (who’s watching that on BBC4 ? – isn’t it still wonderful?!) so I was happy to illustrate this and show you my results of this prompt. Read on if you dare…..
The Extract….
It was extremely bad form
To use such expletives
And express my views like that
And to compare you to excrement
I can’t help being so extrovert
And talking to excess
Or rather shouting excruciatingly
No, I’m not from Exeter
Nor from Exmouth neither
Excuse me for my lack of excuses
H.Moulson 2023
I hope you liked that piece, PL’s. I know you all have “Ex’s” in you too, so answers on a postcard please…….
Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. We’ll be back with more quirky pieces real soon….
Welcome to Part Two of Eccentric rhymes. And the super and talented poet, Trisha Broomfield has come up with some belters. Very clever pieces, thank you Trisha.
Weren’t they just ingenious and clever?! My favourite was the Slough piece. Excellent! Thanks again Trisha. Please keep them coming. That applies to you too, PL’s. Your nonsense rhymes this way please
Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers, we’ll be back real soon….
We can’t let summer get away without at least one tribute to it. And hands up who remembers that summer of ‘76! Hmm..quite a few raised hands there, I see. What an impact that July had on our lives!
I have conveyed Summer generally in my triolet below. However, Trisha Broomfield has written such a beautiful and visual piece about that monumental summer. Superb, Trisha, thank you for letting me republish it.
Trisha’s piece follows mine. Read on if you dare!
Summer Triolet
Memories of past summers sit on my skin
Some of them not worth recalling
Boring, lonely, only fit for the bin
Memories of past summers sit on my skin
Even good summers don’t get a look in
Perhaps they were just as appalling
Memories of past summers sit on my skin
Some of them not worth recalling.
HM 2022
Sunrise Over Islington
It was the only way to get a tan, olive oil mixed with vinegar.
Spreading ourselves on Hampstead Heath,
we fried, St Tropez
an aspiration.
It was the only way to keep cool at night.
We scaled the heights of giddy gates,
swam languidly, naked, in an outdoor pool
surrounded by statues.
It was the only way to party.
We opened our doors to the ‘bring a bottle’ crowd.
By dawn they’d slipped out silently,
taking our possessions.
In our empty flat we stood,
watching through windows
the sun rise
over Islington.
Trisha Broomfield 2019
Wasn’t that a beautiful poem, PL’s. The atmosphere and anguish and joy of the young in London during a brutal summer. I can’t get enough of it.
Thanks again, Trisha. I’m sorry your things got nicked, a painful lesson, I guess. Do read more of Trisha’s work in her beautiful collections When Peter Sellers Came to Tea and Husbands for Breakfast.
And thank you for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon…..
Well, I think it’s this unexpected and brutal heat, but suddenly I’m rhyming for England!
Those who are aware of my poetry know I never go near rhyme! However, on attempting to conquer Eye Rhymes, I ended up with only two of those, and the rest are conventional pieces. Never mind, I had great fun doing them.
They really are a bit eccentric, so just humour me. Read on if you dare!
It’s late and enough is enough
As they linger over their tarmac coffee
Stay polite and give a delicate cough
Inside we’ll think we’re only youths
Our wrinkled skin tells us nothing
But to flaunt botoxed faces is uncouth
A faded beauty, you remain glamorous
But don’t overdo your lipstick and blusher
you can end up looking phosphorus !
Welcome to the world, lovely daughter
but please, no bellyaching
just sweet and gurgling laughter
Giving birth hands you a false euphoria
Until the flowers and cards stop arriving
Avoid every ailment, especially pneumonia
Thanks for tuning in and reading, PL’s. Please send any eccentric rhymes on a postcard. I’m off on my travels next week but Dobby, my assistant, will take charge (I think).
Well, what a lucky find I had while trying to find a final poetry book for The Sealey Challenge!
Going down my bookshelf and coughing from the dust, I found Michael Parkin’s book of Louis Wain cats with some beautiful poetry. Cat lovers and otherwise would not resist the charm of this book.I remember Mum buying this for me in the early eighties and it’s been down in the vaults ever since! So it’s time it had an airing….
Here’s some extracts…
Cat in the Flowerbed
‘I’ve bided my time for many a day
And passed by many fine cats
But the finest of all, the one I love most
Is elsewhere worrying about rats’
My favourite cat too! I love the expression on this tabby’s face. Some of these pieces are credited and some are not.
Monarch of the Garden
‘I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.’
(William Cowper)
I think that’s your feelings too, Dobby.
One of my favourite images out of many, is this one of a mother giving her kitten profound advice;
‘Now, my kitten, remember these proverbs: “One swallow does not make a supper” and “A mouse in the paws is worth two in the pantry.”
What excellent advice, wouldn’t you agree, Dobby? Er – Dobby..??
I think that’s a hint to wrap it up for now, more from this beautiful book later on….
Thanks for tuning into Cat’s Hour, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry adventures real soon……..
Welcome back to the What I did on my holidays series.
Well, apart from the Sealey Challenge, I’ve been seeing and reviewing a lot of the Camden Fringe. Going on through the whole of August, so much talent is packed in and without the chaos of Edinburgh’s Festival, its biggest rival.
However, Camden is not without its own noise but at least you can go home afterwards!
Min Theatre’s Glad to be Dead?, on the first day of the Camden Fringe at the marvellous Hen & Chickens theatre, was haunting and atmospheric. Making me sleep with the light on! Followed by Covadonga Camblor’s Maybe I Do? – an absorbing turmoil of a young girl’s decision to marry.
The Hen & Chickens Theatre in St Paul’s Road is literally opposite the overground station. However, not all venues were so straightforward.
The beautiful Upstairs at the Gatehouse for instance, was a right old hike uphill from Highgate tube and don’t get me started on The Rosemary Branch Theatre! However we hit pay dirt with This Girl and An Evening with Gene Montague respectively. A real learning curve about the complexity of Camden’s borough! Never underestimate such a place.
On safer ground at the Hen & Chickens, I had the privilege of seeing 222 Production’s Trustfall, Lewys Holt’s Phrases, and Dave Lee Morgan’s Poems on Gender.
I returned to the Etcetera Theatre in throbbing and vibrant Camden Town and its intimate space was a great venue for Shaira Berg’s Gaslight, a very disturbing play. Followed by Heleana & Sophia Blackwell’s Wife Material at The Camden People’s Theatre. My first visit to this terrific venue, and a terrific show.
I was sad to go to my last production at the Hen & Chickens but How to be Jewish again, wittily performed and written by Gillian Fischer was a fitting end.
Thank you, Camden Fringe and Mark Aspen Reviews for making this such a great journey.
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s, and reading about my travels. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…..
Sorry it’s been nearly a week, I’ve been busy as a bee!
The Sealey Challenge has been one of my preoccupations. Just to refresh your memory, the plan is to read a poetry pamphlet every day for the month of August and post it on social media. And I’m nearly fresh out! August is such a long month. So it’s up the library for me.
It does not help that Dobby has gone on strike and refuses to pose with any of the books. She’s demanding more sardines – but that’s impossible, they’re bad for her tummy, and so negotiations have broke down completely.
Luckily, I had back up with Mum’s Russian dolls and the Homepride Men, but I’ve since heard that they’ve come out in sympathy and are picketing outside!
These are just some of the wonderful books I’ve been featuring and re-reading. I’ll keep you posted on my progress and that I will actually make it to the 31st!! Wish me luck.
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry adventures real soon ……..
Now, as most of us cat lovers are aware, it was International Cat’s Day on Tuesday. So clever poet and friend Trisha Broomfield has penned a wonderful tribute to these felines, especially Perry who seems to have adopted her.
Adorable cat but a mystery background. Here, Trisha sums up her feelings for Perry very well. Read on….
The cat who isn’t ours Hurries to greet us when we return home Elegantly leaps through open windows
Curls up on blankets, towels or vacated seats Any time he can, without a backward glance To him his home is here, even though it is not.
We do not feed the cat, who is not ours Honestly, maybe a small portion of turkey at Christmas Or a morsel of chicken, when we weaken.
In his mind there is no reason why he Should not be welcomed in No excuse for us not to stroke his fur, allow him To sit on our laptops, cat’s love that
Wasn’t that a wonderful piece?! Thank you so much for that, Trisha. My love to Perry… Now, who would like to write about their own cat? On a postcard please, to the usual address…
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon…..
So who remembers that relentless summer of ‘76?! Most of us, I bet. That three weeks in July of scalding temperatures and droughts. That picture of me above said it all!
Not being a great fan of the heat, I thought I’d buried it, but clever poet Sharon Andrews gave the most wonderful prompt this week Where had Summer gone? And 1976 came flooding back……. I remember that heatwave sloped off as quickly as it had come. I’ve tried to put this over in the piece below. Read on…..
Where Had Summer Gone?
Where had summer gone?
They asked after the relentless
heatwave of ‘76
Had it melted into badly paid
summer jobs and other heartaches?
Swallowed up by lost loves
and the Italian boys on the street?
Half lagers in the Castle pub
while sneering at punks ?
All that remained was red peeling
skin on tired shoulders
And a nagging hosepipe ban
It simply merged into an indolent
August
And crept away as fast as it came
Wasn’t that a great prompt?! Please keep them coming, Sharon. Thank you for that.
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon……