CCLXX - It's déjà vu all over again.

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Best wishes for the New Year.

It’s déjà vu all over again.

And so we end another year
Whether we’ve advanced is far from clear
While most things were not as we feared,
It’s déjà vu all over again.

Chorus

Don’t you worry, it’s all the same;
History plays repetitive games.
Study the past, it’s very clear
What was past will reappear
With the same story, just different names,
Different names,
With the same story, just different names,

The Arabs had their cliché-ed springs
The Iraqis saw what democracy brings,
And Egypt on a knife edge swings,
It’s déjà vu all over again.

Chorus

Climate Change a political stone,
While storms and floods have only grown
The establishment prefers not to know
It’s déjà vu all over again.

Chorus

Royal weddings kept the media frisky,
News Limited tactics were more than risky,
And Kim Jong-il has forsaken whiskey
It’s déjà vu all over again.

Chorus

An enemy of the state was eliminated,
A computer guru was venerated
And the Japanese were irradiated
It’s déjà vu all over again.

Chorus

So what will we see in the year ahead?
Who will survive, who will be dead?
Can’t but praise the guy who said:
It’s déjà vu all over again.

Chorus

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXIX - Once upon some time or other

 Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Fairytale'. 

Once upon some time or other

Once upon some time or other
There was a very hassled mother;
Her kids had not done what she had said
And so were packed off to their bed.

“We cannot sleep”, the kids did wail
And demanded she read a bedtime tale.
She briefly considered trying to sing it
But had no books, so had to wing it.

“Once upon a time”, her story went,
“Cock Robin was killed with mean intent;
He had built a sweet house, made of straw
And the poor old lion had a thorn in its paw.

He ate the tarts that were really the Queen’s
And sold the cow for only three beans
He cut off its tail with a carving knife,
Because living in a shoe was a wretched life.

A scheming wolf then knocked at the door
While Cinderella swept up the floor.
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And the rats all followed him out of town.

The witch rubbed her hands with some glee
As the King called out to his fiddlers three;
The frog, it did a wooing go,
Its fleece, it was as white as snow.

But when she got there the cupboard was bare
And told her to let down her golden hair,
But Jack and Jill were only good friends
And they lived happily ever after. The end.”

It sleep was the goal, it failed to work
The kids had gone beyond berserk
“This is not right” they yelled with a noise
And pelted their mother with their toys.

“Tough titties, you little swine” she cried
“I did my best, I really tried.
If you didn’t like it, it’s no fault of mine
I’m off to have a mug of wine.”

“Wait!  Wait!  Mother, not so fast,
We think your version quite a blast!
But you left out the Dukes ten thousand men
So, please, say it over once more again.”

---



© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXVIII - Twas the day after Christmas

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 Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Festive'.  

Twas the day after Christmas

‘Twas the day after Christmas, and not hard to guess,

The adults were exhausted and the house was a mess,

The fridge was full of enough leftover gear

To feed a small village for the best part of a year.

All of the women and a few of the males

Were up at dawn to go off to the sales.

They don't need the items on display

But don't like to think that 'one got away'.

The spiritually inclined still long to be blessed,

So flocked, en mass, to the Boxing Day test.

There the priests of Cricket will bowl and strike

To show the faithful what an eternity’s like.

We are told that humans have what it takes

To grow and learn from past mistakes

But the case for such change is far from clear

When we just go and repeat it the following year.

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXVII - Listen Up, Fat Man

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 One Minute Writer had a topic "Santa"
The image is a modified Norman Rockwell.

Listen up, Fat Man.

Don’t give me sock or hankies,

Forget about the books,

I have no need for power tools,

Leaf blowers are for sooks.

I have a phone and need no more

My kitchen is well kitted,

The sweaters have been well and good

But very few have fitted.

It’s not that I’m not grateful,

There is just nothing that I plead for:

I have not the slightest interest

In things I have no need for.

If I really must have a list

Of things to send my way:

How about an equal world

Where all can have a say?

Is a well managed planet

Beyond your elfish crew?

Resources should belong to all

And not just the selfish few.

And wars give me the irrits,

They are never ever right;

Kindly ditch all politicians

Who send our youth away to fight.

My last wish is a cheeky one,

And would let you retire your sleigh:

Could rid us of religion?

That would truly make my day.

---



© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXVI - Pooh is high.

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.

While I believe a limerick should be risqué,

I played this one straight.

A bear who was terribly high
Regretted his decision to fly.
“While it is rather sunny,
There’s an  absence of hunny,
And the bees are in oversupply."

---



© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXV - The Joy of Playing Hard To Get

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Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Joy'. 

The Joy of Playing Hard To Get.

Most people have the wrong idea
About joy and how to find it.
Very few know what it is
And fewer still defined it.

Some think it's on the golf course,
Others in a grandchild on the knee,
Some take to writing poems,
Others search beside the sea.

Some think it found in chemicals
Of confectionery, drink or pills;
Others look for it in adrenalin
That fuels their need for thrills.

Advertisers, of course, sell the line
That you life is dull and grey
Unless you eat their products
Or drive their car away.

But joy is a mixed up mugger,
Hidden where you can’t detect it,
But leaps out and then rewards you
When you least of all expect it.

Searching for joy is pointless,
A misguided thing to do;
Set your heart on contentment
And let joy come looking for you.

---



© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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"Happiness is like a butterfly:

the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, 

but if you turn your attention to other things, 

it will come and sit softly on your shoulder."

- Thoreau

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CCLXIV - A Girl Who Was Frequently Prone.

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.

A girl, who was frequently prone,

Was amazed how her business had grown.

“I’m flat out at work”

She said with a smirk,

“I’m helping the wild oats to be sown.”

 ◊◊◊

A girl, who was frequently prone,

Was seldom in that position alone.

“Most, of course,

Prefer intercourse,

But others are happy to be blown.”

---



© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXIII - Le gros mort

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.

A fellow whose last dime was spent
On a night with a woman-to-rent,
At the orgasmic crest,
Had a cardiac arrest:
“He came and, then sadly, he went.”

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLXII - Worldwide Fame

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A fellow was famous worldwide
For the women he took in his stride.
He’d woo them and bed them
But certainly not wed them:
He just went along for the ride.

A fellow was famous worldwide
For a habit that few could abide.
While he insisted it legal
To have sex with a beagle
It’s now up to a judge to decide.

A woman was famous worldwide
For a coat that was made from the hide
Of a husband she’d caught
In a naked cavort
With a saucy little piece on the side.


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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLXI - Nightfall

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Nightfall
Halloween 2011

The Atheist and the Satanist
Were standing toe to toe.
‘Twas the hallowed evening
When the devils do their show;
One there couldn’t grasp it,
The other wouldn’t let it go.

Said the Satanist to the Atheist
“I can scare you from your shoes;
I can bring forth all the nasties
With blood and gore and ooze;
I can pile them up in front of you,
If you even flinch, you lose.”

The Atheist sighed and looked most sad
“I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again:
There is no need for your deathly lot
To ride screaming through the glen:
There’s a surplus of evil in this world,
Already in the mind of men.

But all that being said and done,
I don’t mind the ghoulish rally.
It’s amusing on a quiet night
When there’s not a lot on telly
And, just between the two of us,
I have a passion for green jelly."

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLX - Telling Tales

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A woman who was telling a tale
In breathless and intricate detail
Turned quite blue
Before it was through
As she completely forgot to exhale.

◊◊◊

A fellow who was telling a tale
Of his prowess as a virile young male
Found his nose growing longer
Than his pitiful donger:
A lesson to all who drink ale.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIXe - The Good Ship : Fit the Fifth

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This is the fifth part of a five-part post. The first part is here.

The Good Ship
An Agony in five Fits.

Fit the Fifth

They sought it with spreadsheets, they sought it with guile
They pursued it without any pity;
They had countless reviews that, once in a while,
Resulted in another committee.

◊

The ocean was red, there was a fearful rip,
The water was full of wrecks;
Strange creatures swam around the ship
With long and scaly necks.

“Rise to the occasion!” the Captain cried
“We’ll give our foe a beating!
Into the jaws of calamity we’ll ride
But first we’ll hold a meeting.”

The Bosun took the minutes, the Captain took the floor,
“I admit that things are looking rather choppy.
But don’t take notes, I have an electronic whiteboard
And can give you all a copy.”

“You plan looks fine, as far as it goes”
Said the Fool, who knew a thing or two.
“If it has a flaw, it is that it truly shows
That you really need some crew.”

Now, finally sensing the coming disaster,
The Captain went down below
And return to the deck with the Trader
And cried “Row, you bastard row!”

(solo)

The Captain prowls the ship at night
But all the crew have taken flight,
We are the Ghost Ship
The served up on toast ship,
Could the last one out dim the lights.
The lights,
Could the last one out dim the lights?

◊◊◊

Epilogue

Thus I woke from my troubled sleep;
It had truly been a dream, most strange.
I marveled that my brain would keep
Such nonsense, within its range.

Surely such a story is fiction at best,
With no chance of it being true?
I cleared my mind of the whole silly mess
And bid the mad dream ‘adieu’.

La Fin.

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIXd - The Good Ship : Fit the Fourth

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The Good Ship
An Agony in five Fits.

Fit the Fourth

They sought it on bridges, they sought it with charts
They even used pivot tables.
They dissected it into it’s component parts
But then could not read any of the labels.

◊

They sailed away for a week and a day
‘Til the landscape looked familiar to some.
It seems they had sailed in a circular way
And were back where they started from.

I think we’re in trouble, the Captain confessed
From the bubbles within his bath.
“Contact Admiralty, send a request
For a pilot to plot our path”.

A pilot in a kilt was reserved
To steer them through the seas.
While no-one heard what he observed,
They all admired his knees.

The Pilot said “I know the way
To reach the Promised Land”
But if the Captain cared he didn’t say
And dismissed him out of hand.

“My lot in life’s is to pilot ships
You’ve a need for me no more”
So he hitched his kilt to his boney hips
And waded to the shore.

They hoisted the sails high up the mast
And sailed on for a day or two.
The Captain turned to the Trader and asked
“Um…does this place look familiar to you?”

(duet)

No-one knows why we’re here
And how to sail is far from clear
We are the Good Ship
The misunderstood ship
And no-one knows how to steer.
To steer,
And no-one knows how to steer.

(Continued here)

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIXc - The Good Ship : Fit the Third

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The Good Ship
An Agony in five Fits.

Fit the Third

They sought it with discounts, they tried the hard sell,
They promised the earth and sky
What worked so well when put in Excel
In reality, could never fly.

◊

The Purser called a meeting, there was panic in his eyes,
“From the books, I present my findings:
The budget’s shot: our costs are on the rise
And our income is dead, flat-lining.

The Trader said “Oh Captain my dear,
It’s been months since I sold, it’s true,
But you could save a lot of money , it’s clear,
If you reduced the size of the crew.

“But good crew are so hard to find”
The Fool muttered to himself.
The Master woke and brief opined:
“Bah! You can get them off the shelf!”

“Sack some crew”, the Trader said,
“They’re a dime a dozen if we need some more!”
Offended, some jumped overboard
And swam off to the shore.

“But”, said the Fool, “and I’ve said it oft before”,
You’ve trimmed well beyond the fat.
The muscle’s gone and the carcass is raw.
You wont get far with that.

With the crew now reduced to three
The ship went nowhere fast.
It sat in the waters of a red ink sea
While others sailed on past.

Chorus

Perhaps we’re abandoned, perhaps we’re cursed,
It’s hard to tell which one is worst,
We are the Good Ship
The misunderstood ship
But we are either stopped or in reverse.
Reverse.
We are either stopped or in reverse.

(Continued here)

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIXb - The Good Ship : Fit the Second

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The Good Ship
An Agony in five Fits.

Fit the Second

They sought it in spats, They lured it with wheat
They hunted it beyond the square
They looked where they had looked only last week
And were amazed that it still wasn’t there.

◊

Admiralty sent a message trough
With some cheese and buttered snails.
“Go north without any further ado,
It’s time to hoist your sails.”

The Fool said “But it’s beyond our borders
The Purser feared the cost
The Captain said “I have my orders
The Crew cried out “We are lost!”.

The Trader was just tickled pink
For she secretly knew the worst:
That she couldn't sell an icy drink
To someone with a thirst.

The Captain was oblivious to what was in his hold
But from his act you couldn’t tell it.
The Trader knew but never told
In case she had to sell it.

The Fool said to the Trader one day
“Pray, what is it that you sell?”
“This ship” she said in an off hand way
“Is not provisioned well.”


“The hold is full of corn and wheat
But I want to sell black beans.
And I am sure that my books would look so sweet
If we traded salad greens.”

“But”, said the Fool, “if our cargo is wheat and corn,
Shouldn’t we be trading that?”
The Trader sneered and replied with scorn:
“Trust me, I know where the market’s at.”

Chorus

We sail in search of figures in black
We zig, we zag, we jibe and tack.
We are the Good Ship
The misunderstood ship
For every step forward we take two back.
Two back
For every step forward we take two back.

(Continued here)

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIXa - The Good Ship : Fit the First

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It is human nature to imagine the real when there is only the imaginary.
Any resemblance of the characters in this tale to other people, living, dead, real or imaginary,
is purely co-incidental.

Illustrations: Antonella Castelli tarot cards.


The Good Ship
An Agony in five Fits.

Prologue

I had been reading the Snark,
Carroll’s great tale,
The day had gone, it was quite dark,
It seems I’d drunk a little ale…

A wave of weariness filled my head
And, with no need for counting sheep,
I lay my head upon the bed
And drifted off to sleep.

And as in uffish sleep I slept
A dream most odd unrolled.
I give you now what my memory’s kept
Before the tale gets cold.



Fit the First

They sought it with razors, they sought it with pens
They chased it with a baguette
They cornered it every now and then
But it always slipped their net.

◊

The Captain was the dogged type,
With scowl and under-bite.
Much of what he said was tripe
But, as Captain, always right.

He seemed to be unduly scared
Of any knowledge transfers
He’d ask questions, as if he really cared,
But never listened to the answers.

The Bosun was the nominal head
And prayed five times a day.
No-one understood a word he said
And preferred it stay that way.

The Purser kept the cash required,
His smile as sweet as honey.
He said they could buy as they desired,
As long as they spent no money.

The Master’s job was to tend to the crew
To see them properly fed
But seems at a loss to know what to do
And spent all day in bed.

The Trader was always beautifully dressed
In clothes from the Italian spring.
She look so good that no-one guessed
That she had never sold a thing.

The ship had a Fool, a harmless buffoon,
Who watched the charade with dismay
He’d rant at length on a warm afternoon
But they turned their heads away.

Chorus

The ship is full of poor lost souls
No-one here knows their roles
We are the Good Ship
The misunderstood ship
Our sails are up but full of holes,
Full of holes.
Our sails are up but full of holes,

(Continued here)


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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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Off to far flung places

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Packed my job in on Friday. Got home to find an email from a competitor saying 'Give us a call'. What have I got to loose?

Off for a quickish trip to Europe (London & Prague) tonight (Monday, Australian time. Make your own time adjustments.).

See you in a fortnight.

Can you write a limerick about beer and dumplings? We'll see.

Play nicely while I'm away.

...

CCLVIII - A Hard Case

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A harlot at work on a case
Got splinters in her pretty pink base,
“When a guy wants a quickie
You can’t be too picky
And there was really no other place.”

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLVII - Love Bite

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
This is a third go at the previous prompt.


A guy in the mood for a bite
Wears a cape and travels by night.
There’s a cave where he hangs
And polishes his fangs
While dreaming of necks that excite.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLVI - Finely hewn fragment

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This was written as part of something else
But that something never progressed.
Might as well put it up here until I need it.


The pride of his manhood, finely hewn,
Was enough to make a young girl swoon:
He was hung like a bull,
And their gravitational pull
Disturbed the path of the moon,
The moon,
Disturbed the path of the moon.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLV - Light diet

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
This is a second go at the previous prompt.


A guy in a mood for a bite
Ate a candle and half a flashlight
"I’m on a new diet,
I urge you to try it
Now I’m lighter but not very bright."

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIV - Once bitten

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A guy in the mood for a bite
Asked a girl if she’d stay for the night.
She said “I won’t quibble,
Whether a bite or a nibble,
But that’s all you be getting tonight.”

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLIII - Flash Gordon

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Flash"
I have continued my limerick phase...


Flash Gordon

A habit that most would deplore
Just brings Gordon right back for some more;
He gets his pleasures
By displaying his treasures
To the commuters on the 8:44.

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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLII - The Nude and the Elephant

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Red Dirt Girl put up some photos that were in search of a limerick.
How could I not oblige?

The elephant thought the guy cute
As he stood naked in front of the brute.
"But your trunk is so small,
It's of no use at all
For jobs like picking up fruit."

.

A lady who was pubicly cleared
Lamented "It's just as I feared.
The absence of hair
(Despite a cute pair)
Tends only to attract the quite weird.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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CCLI - Streaker

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
I got overly excited and did three.


A girl who was fast on her feet
Would streak every day down the street
The men were delighted
But the women were united
In calling her far from discrete.

◊◊◊

A girl who was fast on her feet,
Outran all the guys, when on heat.
“As much as I enjoy
A romp with a boy
I don’t want to be out on the street”.

◊◊◊

A girl who was fast on her feet
Was at port to welcome the fleet
This speedy young beauty
Thought it her duty
To discharge any sailor she’d meet.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCL - A Different Day

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Day".

A Different Day

When the days are long and dragging
When you wonder why you’re there;
When the work they have you doing
Leaves you tearful with despair,
When it all seems bloody heartless
It’s time to quit your chair.

When they ask you to perform
Tasks, for you, unfairly borne,
When you lie awake at night
But dread the coming of the morn,
The obscenity’s in the detail
Of this corporate form of porn.

When the night of life is darkest,
And your sleepless heart just aches,
The new day dawns with promise
And forgives us our mistakes,
For, when the sun breaks through the clouds,
Oh, what a day a difference makes.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLIX - How can you love an FTE?

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The company I work for does not have employees,
It has FTEs: Full-Time Equivalents.


How can you love an FTE?

How can you love an FTE?
They’re cold and feel no pain.
They’re numbers on a spreadsheet,
An annoying financial drain.

How can you love an FTE?
They make us lots of money, yes,
But we could make a squillion more
If we could pay the bastards less.

How can you love an FTE?
A misplaced socialist ardor;
Money’s there if you sack a few
And worked the others harder.

How can you love an FTE?
A nuisance that encumbers;
Can they really have emotions
When they’re really only numbers?

How can you love an FTE?
It’s not as if they’re real
With wives and lives and puppy dogs
Who love and live and feel.

How can you love an FTE?
You can’t that’s very clear.
They are numbers on a spreadsheet,
So just forget them, that’s a dear.

◊◊◊

Optional last verse.

There’s no way to love an FTE,
That’s how they’ve been designed.
They’re pawns in a grubby chess game,
And to that I’m now resigned.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

And, yes, I have resigned.
...

CCXLVIII - Rondo

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A guy who was covered in sweat
Had made love to a Beethoven quartet.
The allegro was fine,
The pizzicato divine,
But the finale he'd rather forget.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLVII - The Bone Filter

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Theme Thursday's theme last Thursday was "Communication".



The Bone Filter

We humans are a most social lot
And words are there to drive us.
They help us rally ‘round our tribe
And let our knowledge out-survive us.

But communication, like all human skills,
Is spread both thin and thick;
Some can paint a dream with words
While others hit you with a brick.

Despite the varied rhetorical skills
We use in verbal clinches,
It’s not really a communication
Until it’s past the last four inches.

But even then survival’s slim,
In the realm beyond the ears;
Communication’s not what you say,
But what the hearer hears.

In the bony recesses of the mind,
All inputs are there inspected,
Through prisms, lens and filters,
To be taken in or off-handedly rejected.

And so our civilization will progress
On what we think we thought we heard;
Sadly, invariably, we will get it wrong,
And, for that, you can take my word.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLVI - Rough drop

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here is another effort for the previous prompt:


A fellow was trying to dine
But lamented the taste of the wine.
The flavour, he said,
Was of something long dead,
And that death was far from benign.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLV - First Course Entree.

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here is my effort for this week:


A fellow was trying to dine
When his wife proposed they recline.
Being on a winner,
He postponed his dinner,
An arrangement that suited just fine.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLIV - The Hotel

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With another visit to The Harbour City this week, a reflection on the dubious pleasures of hotels.
I much prefer rhyming poetry. This hybrid is the furthest I get away from it
but it seemed to reflect the staccato nature of hotel life, for those on the road.
A tedium not usually seen by dewy-eyed tourists.

The Hotel

Sterile places.
Vacant faces.
Foyer spaces .
Fully devoid of any affection.

Disconnection.
Disinfection.
Introspection.
Sigmund Freud
Could be employed
Full time basis.
Manual erection,
Endless cases.
Cold embraces.
Lack of graces.

Life in bags.
Night-time drags.
Past the panes,
The city races
And life remains.
The sounds of cars,
The hoot of trains,
But not of faces;
Contained but very much alone.
Room service that comes,
By the phone,
Jars
And leaves its traces
Of our needs, unmet
By mini-bars.

Showers you can’t fit in,
Seats you cannot sit in,
Little blocks of soap.
One blanket, polyester.
The air-conditioner’s dead,
A small and lumpy bed.
Sleep’s a forlorn hope.
The TV shows are a rehashing
Of drama, crime and sex molesters.
The bed will cross the floor
If you lean against the wall.
Clock displays are flashing,
If they even work at all

Noisy plumbing
In the night
From neighbours
And the water.
From the calls,
Through the walls,
Someone’s delight
Really might
Be a little shorter.
Or more quiet.

Fitful sleep
With little rest.
Up and dressed
In workplace best
Fed and keen to go.
Last inspection,
Pack the bags,
Check the room,
Take the lift,
Cross the void,
Past the waiting
Anxious eyes.
If you’re wise.
Time to check out
Then to step out
With no adieu.

Into the sun.
Or the rain

Either will do.
And be enjoyed.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXLIII - Fall from Grace

.

Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here are my efforts this week:


A fellow who tended to brag
Was proud of the balls in his bag.
He'd invite all the girls
To handle his pearls
And was distressed when they started to sag.

◊◊◊

Or then there could be this:

A woman who tended to brag
Of her quest for a mind-blowing shag
Got the full attention
Of the male extension,
But none could perform in the bag.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLII - As game as they come.

.

Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here are my efforts this week:


A woman who always seemed game
Developed spots with a long Latin name.
She got infected
After sex unprotected;
But was at a loss to know who to blame.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLI - Money Honey

.

Mad Kane has a limerick, starting with the first line,
"A man who was free with his money".

Here is my slant on it:


A man who was free with his money
Attracted the wrong sort of honey.
Without much ado
She poisoned his stew;
His last words were “Tastes a bit funny…”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXL - The Question

.

Magpie Tales had the above painting as a prompt.


The Question

Life is rewarding, have no doubt:
Fortune favours the brave.
With trembling voice the words came out.
Would she give him what he craved?

“You want what?” she cried aghast,
“We hardly even kissed!
There are many things I’d do if asked
But that’s not on my list!”

“On this I must be very firm:
Your head is full of rocks.
Life is far too short a term
To spend it darning socks.”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXIX - Never Needle a Knitter

.

Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here are my efforts this week:

A man who was lacking in wit
Needled those who knew how to knit.
He did it too often
Now he lives in a coffin;
The details are in his obit.

A girl who was lacking in wit
Thought a penis was something that bit.
At the end of the night
She exclaimed with delight,
“It’s toothless! But it knows how to spit!”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXVIII - A Love-Smitten Guy.

.

Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us. Here is my effort:
.
A love smitten guy was irate
When he found his sweet love in a state
Politely described
As ‘over imbided’
And in bed with the coxless eight*.

◊◊◊

A love-smitten guy was irate
That his member refused to inflate.
The eye of his affection
Consoled his dejection
But privately said it was great.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

*For the technically minded (= pedantic) a rowing eight is never coxless,
but what is the use of poetry if you can't use poetic licence?
...

CCXXXVII - The Letters

.

Theme Thursday had a prompt: Letter


The Letters

The yellowing letters, ribbon bound,
Lived in the top drawer, beside her bed.
Read and re-read, she always found
Comfort and solace in what they said.

He wrote of his love, forever burning,
He wrote of their lives, forever entwined,
He wrote with passion and an inner yearning,
She always blushed when she read those lines.

Margin notes embellished the pages,
Here and there a flower was pressed,
The letters talked from across the ages
Of a love that failed to be suppressed.

He went to the war, now always apart,
But, in his letters, he returns his heart.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXVI - The Bike

.

Magpie Tales had the above poster as a prompt.


The Bike

In a thin gown,
She rode through the town,
And declared that it gave her a thrill.

She didn’t straddle
But rode it side-saddle
A trick that only works down hill.

She took great delight
To ride in sunlight
But exposed her breasts when it was shady.

While a bike is okay,
To be transported away
I’d much rather be riding the lady.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXV - Captivated

.

Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Captivate'.


Captivated

He loved her with a passion
That few could understand.
Such love is out of fashion,
It’s often even banned.

He loved her sparkling eyes,
He loved the way she sits,
He loved her inner thighs
And her pretty pinkish bits.

Her skin was smooth as plaster,
Her hair was golden-tressed,
He never thought to ask her
If he could watch as she undressed.

Did she know she had this beau?
That’s far from being certain
But the heartless little so-and-so
Turned and pulled the curtain.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXIV - In the mourning.

.

One Minute Writer had a topic "Loss".


In the mourning.

You won me over when we met;
Your silver tongue and golden speech
Filled me with hope, a sense that change
Was really there, within our reach.

But now in the cold and morning light,
I see that it was but lust
And not providing a warm embrace
As a loving engagement must.

Two years on and we have more wars
And Guantanamo is still supported,
Bradley rots in a solitary cell
And cluster bombs are still exported.

Desire was there for better times
But moral issues have been evaded.
Israel continues to flout the law
And sovereign countries have been invaded.

My eyes are open to what I’ve lost,
It’s tomorrow and reality is dawning;
In black, I regret what could have been
And I don’t respect you, in the mourning.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXIII - Show Some Care

.

One Minute Writer had a topic "Straw".
I had an urge to do a villanelle, a fairly structured poetic form.


Show Some Care

My back will break beneath the weight,
If you do not show some care;
Stop now, before it is too late.

The ‘things to do’ do not abate
But come to me, as I am there;
My back will break beneath the weight.

What does it matter to miss a date?
Better that than not even there.
Stop now, before it is too late.

Tasks are assigned without debate
And make me wish I wasn’t there:
My back will break beneath the weight

Why rush as a bull towards a gate?
Far better to think, be aware;
Stop now, before it is too late.

As the camel said “Don’t you dare
Put another straw up there.
My back will break beneath the weight
Stop now, before it is too late.”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXII - The Morning Light

.

Magpie Tales had the above photo as a prompt.
I felt it deserved a rondeau.


The Morning Light

The morning light, like liquid gold,
Runs down the valley, to enfold
The field and farms and those within;
As thick as treacle, sweet as sin.
The sleepers wake and loath unfold,
To stretch and slow release their hold
Of night time lovers, young and old,
And rise, as dreaming, to step in
The morning light.

With inner warmth against the cold
They know how nature’s joy is told
The love of life is in their skin
A day must end and then begin
To greet once more thus behold
The morning light.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXI - The Green Grassy Patch

.

The Green Grassy Patch

The forests are a shady and welcoming place
With glens and secretive clearings.
The green velvet looks
Of these grass-filled nooks
Make the woods all the more endearing,
Endearing,
Make the woods all the more endearing.

Deep in these woods, the birds would sing
Songs of the eggs they would hatch.
They would twitter above as
Some lust filled lovers
Looked for the perfect patch
Perfect patch
As they looked for the perfect patch.

They found a clearing away from the path,
Where no-one they felt would pass.
All that was left
When they redressed
Was an imprint of her bum in the grass,
In the grass,
Was in imprint of her bum in the grass.

Now, the birds of course had seen it before
This couple were far from the first.
But they sensed in the duet
That an egg had been set
They swelled with a pride that could burst
Could burst,
Swelled with a pride that could burst.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXX - A Three-way Hitch

.

Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Hitch'.
Now, there are a number of possible meanings...

Three-way Hitch

A girl in the Shire,
Fancied the squire,
But, a hitch! He didn't want to date her.

So the little flirt
Hitched up her skirt
And encouraged his lordship to mate her.

He swears he declined
To be so entwined
But they were hitched a few months later.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXIX - Banana Risotto

.

I was in Sydney a while ago and I swear I heard someone say ‘Banana Risotto’.
I looked up and it was two ladies, obviously talking in a foreign language.
It was just a coincidental sound alike. That grew into the following:
Banana Risotto.

Sardine doughnuts,
Frog filled snow huts,
Tree-lined pancakes,
Cross-eyed leaf rakes,
Purple ear-wax,
Strawberry thumbtacks,
Wooden lamb chops,
Caustic pet shops,
Rubber wombats,
Yoghurt hardhats,
Ginger shirtsleeves,
Grubby tea leaves,
Copper toupees,
Salty zoo days,
Orange birdcalls,
Feather words stalls,
Tit elation,
Mistranslation ,
Consternation.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

Oh, the photo? Well, If you knew sushi, that way that I know sushi...

...

CCXXVIII - More Pete, more feet.

.

While we are on Pete and his feet, Magpie Tales
had the above picture as a prompt.

There once was a mollusc, named Pete,
Whose stomach doubled up as his feet.
When the meal was quite grand
He could no longer stand
And had to look 'round for a seat.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXVII - Taking Stock

.

One Minute Writer had a topic "Stock"

Taking Stock

There once was a cook known as Pete
Who made soups for royalty to eat.
The foundation rock
Was a really good stock
In which he had washed his feet.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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