Tuesday 31 July 2018

Flow to Go



He’s a top-notch analytical 
analysing industry
Where the busy teams
need super vision
On their daily target spree
A guiding light consistent
With cogent process plans
His valid stake in steps to take
Turning ‘don’t-do’s’ into cans
A master of the ‘check-it-out’
His diagnostic crucial keys
Set the scenes of ways and means
Required essentially to squeeze

Monday 30 July 2018

Kilo-Verse Hours



It seemed a chore more tedious
To write a chiliad of rhyme
Questioning with Kilo What’s?
Such a grand-stairway to climb
Chasing any word that moves
For milligrains of something more
Many thousand roads and alleyways
Umpteen paths to yet explore
Led on by early hours ideas
Too numerous to count
Lyric lines in milli-meter
Seldom clear-cut to surmount
Looking back to find a motive
And put this killing-verse to bed
Raise my hands accept the blame
One thousand pardons for my head


Oxford Dictioaries - Oh what a lovely word

On this 30th Day in July 2018 my 69th birthday. I completed my blog quest to exceed a thousand rhyme posts along with 160 mini-muses. A special 'THANK YOU' to all who pop in for a peep at my wordy extravanzaas and apologies to all the really great poets who howl in dismay at my impertinent missives.

Now Where Was I



Sitting unused in the evening sun
This day has somehow paused
To leave me checking second thoughts
As something else I may have caused
Quite sure I’m still responsible
A doing-nothing activist
Who begs for silence to be heard
A here and now contortionist
Reflecting on my mirror images
That back and forth in light diffused
Swapping sides a picture paralysed
Where right and left look back confused

Sunday 29 July 2018

Bucolic Frolic



Slow down Sunday so they say
A seventh day of rest
Dallying doing handiwork
Minor borderlines at best
Early risers on the fairway
Swing away to hearts desire
Sweet spot strikes a perfect shot
Sunday’s handicap's conspire
Church bells join in singing
Special breakfasts on the go
Perusing gardens in the Sunday air
Bibs and tuckers out on show
Maybe bake a cake or pudding
Enjoyed with lunchtime wine
Take a walk about the village scene
Let ticking over realign

Enjoyable Ingredients



Life is living everywhere
Searching to fulfil
Doing what the living do
A lineage of will
On top or in the show below
A camouflage in good repair
Living menus on the table
Fresh today or what’s left there
Life is all things edible
Hunger drives each needy yearn
For those who made it yesterday
Are tomorrow’s final turn
No matter how you fill your space
Each living cycle is progression
A game of passing through today
Is merely hand to mouth succession

Saturday 28 July 2018

End of an Era


Torrential rain is telling me
That something’s going down
Soil around me parched beyond
In disparate shades of brown

The money men on bottom lines
Are seeking ways to drag it out
Squeezing all remaining moisture
Lending profits one last shout

Chomping everyone’s last morsel
Before tomorrow leaves us out
Selling tickets for the festival
With no audience to tout

We colonised and fraternised
Building empires great and good
Desecrating natures wonderland
We sucked the lungs out of our wood

Vain gloriously our temples high
Pleaded mercy for our wrongs
As if a choir could ever mitigate
The way we plundered natures songs


If I May Have A Word


Living in a well-read book
Where words most probable
Live happily in eloquence
Enjoined connected plausible
Aspiring in smart paragraphs
In high rise printing blocks they view
With conviction their description
Introduces something new
Making sense in past or present tense
Attending to the readers eyes
Who follow eagerly the characters
Plainly written in disguise

Thursday 26 July 2018

A Ramble Amble Gamble



Heading nowhere purposeless
Taking pot luck on my feet
Clicking rhythm of a Rolling Stone
Out of time on limbo street
Happy drifting in the hollow space
To some way-out lyric line
Imagining I’m holding court
I sing in Muddy Waters time
The bending notes of desolation
Grabbing at my heart and soul
A wishing well of all the love I miss
I pay the heavy midnight toll

Wednesday 25 July 2018

Stale Pace



Hail the thoughtless blinkered fools
One track minds without remorse
Living lives on one-way streets
They keep their ‘My Way’ only course
Never looking for the untried way
Ignoring broad street avenues
Preferring routes in worn out boots
Stuck in the mud of ‘Poor Me’ blues
“Doing only what we always do”
Fearing situations strange
Just in case they lose their comfort zone
Blind to brand new calls for change
Thankfully they’re happiest
In prisons cells of repetition
The self-imposed who never diagnosed
Fresh ways to alter their condition

Tuesday 24 July 2018

Blood Moon Song

UK Friday 27th July 2018  21:15 - Midnight



Sitting ‘Piggy in the middle’
On a moonlight Friday bright
As refraction paints a solar scene
Of moonshine  rosy red delight
Atmospherically this overfly
Gives our sun its orange hue
A light show stretch elastic
Skylight shades of wistful blue
A sight to see this rarity
Electric orchestra of light
Electromagnet holding eyelines
Rayleigh scattering the night

Monday 23 July 2018

Whose Round Is It?


There are those who have a need to drink
A cocktail cup of human paste
And so many who are daft enough
As sixteen thousand vote to taste
Millenia of ingression seeps
Are now a toxic putrid potion
Wishing to ingest a fusty slop
Is at best a perilous notion
It seems there is a weird belief
A ‘Mummy Powerful’ solution
That drinking dodgy sewage drafts
Will bring on ‘New Age’ absolution
Although Egyptians like the rest of us
Who wished longevity immortal
To live in Never-Ever Land
By slipping through a cryptic portal
As for me I think I’ll pass on this
Taking best bets ascertained
Leaving Flies to drink my shitty share
As I on Sewage Juice abstained

Sunday 22 July 2018

Peculiar Pieces of Eight



In our spatial tiny minor spot
Afloat in vastness hardly known
Where seeds of mathematics grow
In all directions number prone
Calculations seek to unify
A final theory which explains
How all the numbers neatly fit
In most beautiful terrains 
Forces physics clashing particles
Can strike the dabbler as insane
Making neat and tidy everything
Wrapped up within the ‘Fano Plane’
As we project our understanding
In the smallest outlines dot-to-dot
Solutions end up most peculiar
In hyper strings without a knot


Do have a browse on the above link it is truly amazing how humans are moving towards the ultimate essence of everything. So I rhymetized the journey with a tongue packed in my cheek.

I’m Looking Out For Einstein (Space Time)



Being here and there apparently
Is more likely than one sees
Like standing in a 'trail of things'
Tricky time-span mysteries

Living upbeat in my ‘Now Point’
In my world of self deception
Allowing me an inkling
On fake illusions of perception

Confounded by my state of play
And my somewhere nonexistence
I wonder where I ought to be
Amid my angles of consistence

All at once I’ve been and gone
Or still waiting for my birth
Whilst never having been here yet
I am my future place on earth

So thanks a bunch to Mr Einstein
Maybe I’ll meet him during sleep
Or in my wakefulness rewound again
Prepared to take the quantum leap


Past present and future is only an illusion albeit a persistent one

NEW - STORY LINK


I first posted this rhyme on my blog Arhythmytic'. and now I have read a recent article in Quanta Magazine  Octonions . I'm no mathematicion not even in the slightest sense but I do enjoy the descriptions of super complexities these great minds bestow on us. I am re-reading the octonion article in hope that I might rhymetise the subject, such is my cheek.

Brainpickings Link

Saturday 21 July 2018

Concerto Crescendo



The trumpet blast of new arrivals
In a fanfare of loud air
A thumping heart accelerato 
Without a voice to sing despair
Early hours of affrettando
Agitato pleas for love
Demanding cover in the intervals
Syncopation’s music glove
To set the tone of expectation
Wrapped in a tenerezza coat
Living for a share of harmony
They finished on a pleasant note

Friday 20 July 2018

Long Hot Dog Days



A bell proclaims school year is done
Let go the leash of uniforms
The learning war has called time-out
Summer sun rejects brainstorms
Put on your freedom clear-cut robes
Walk the fresh air with best friends
Meet and greet on any sunny street
Make plans with latest trends
These are days for making memories
No time to waste on inward bounds
Being street smart with the uptown kids
Is where it’s at in sunshine sounds
Make the best of now at your command
Keep your carriages at canter
Perform your stage lit summer show
Keep it cool with real life banter

Thursday 19 July 2018

Your Starter for Ten



Once upon a blank page line
A story laid in waiting
To capture thoughts original
Held by a writer hesitating
How then should a book begin
To captivate inquiring eyes
Should it gently build suspense
Or shake the opening with surprise
The writer’s blank expression
Blended with the vacant page
Wrote four words then crossed them out
And suffered first line rage
As the anger flood dissolved away
Tension eased new thoughts occurring 
As pages filled the writer thrilled
A sense of far beyond inferring
All through the night a writer’s plight
Must chase away a weak conclusion
By reading like a reader would
And so avoid The End confusion

Wednesday 18 July 2018

Joie de vivre


The past was never quite like that
Today is changing by the hour
Futures turn on previous ends
Means no guess will have the power
Be happy in the moment served
Pay no attention to your giving
For what you gave you cannot save
So just enjoy the love of living
It’s not the what you should’ve done
But how you deal with present ways
Placing bets on overcoming debts
Can leave you cornered in life’s maze

Tuesday 17 July 2018

Summer Evening July


Where else but now as daylight dims
With mellow breezes emphasizing
How warm the sunrays where today
The evening dew cool crystalizing 
A shape of cold beer on my table laid
Soothing smooth a quench inspired
Immersed in kindred easy time
So little else of more required
Pleasantly these placid hours pass
As we retire in gentle frame
Agreed to dream again here soon
Moonlight smiles our restful claim

Monday 16 July 2018

The Wild Card



With lack of manners or respect
His mother thought him cute and sweet
“He doesn’t mean to be so mean”
She saw no wrong in his conceit
And as he grew in self assertion
Convinced he was the perfect choice
Became the louder mouth of those like him
Infatuated with his voice
With little time for playing any rules
Grabbed lion shares without remorse
Not doubting personal éminence grise
This double-dealing tour de force 
Centered by his sense of flawlessness
He wildly slid the downward drop
To drown in gloom of history’s doom
At Nemesis Railway Station stop

Sunday 15 July 2018

Waiting For Logo's


On days when I lack mull appeal
My empty net without a catch
Inspiration stations on the blink
When interlocks refuse to latch
I gather up a ball of loose ends
After filtering the knots
Sit back and stare at empty air
Not even focusing on spots
My inner self maybe annoyed with me
For overlooking brainy clues
Not hearing words that call to mind
The simplicity of muse

Saturday 14 July 2018

As Expected


Swimming in together shoals
All at one with one another
Taking turns within the in-crowd
On the lookout under cover
Doing what we always do
Chancy spins in life’s roulette
To bounce around the spinning wheel
A guessing game of our best bet
Riding high on peaks of energy
Propagating for tomorrow
In the bedrock of resourcefulness 
No need to beg or steal or borrow
Caught off guard in suddenly
The palace of the unprepared
Where the rule of action stations
Wrote a new book to be shared

Friday 13 July 2018

Just In Time For You

The amazing you

First of all, let's look at you
And 'Odds Against' you being here
Such opportunity complexities
That go beyond the cosmic sphere 
The number is ginormous vast
Much more than every speck of dust
But you're here you know you are
Though temporarily robust
A lucky living strange coincidence
Acquiring ways to understand
Advised by those who make your rules
Until wisdom guides your hand
All those challenges you overcame
Each random prospect in the light
A final journey of a life by chance
Will be the hardest you will fight


Dr Ali Binazir "So what’s the probability of your being born? It’s the probability of 2.5 million people getting together — about the population of San Diego — each to play a game of dice with trillion-sided dice. They each roll the dice — and they all come up the exact same number — say, 550,343,279,001.

A miracle is an event so unlikely as to be almost impossible. By that definition, I’ve just proven that you are a miracle.

Now go forth and feel and act like the miracle that you are."

Thursday 12 July 2018

Mutt

By the window sill sat staring
Watching waiting wearily
Seeing faces in a backdrop blur
A state of wakeful bleary lee 
Facing up to tedium
Until the happiness returns
As the wagging tail anticipates
The disappearance of concerns
Living dreams of momentary joy
To greet again its favourite friend
To walk once more the aromatic path
Where all the other mutts transcend

Wednesday 11 July 2018

Not me Oh No Not Me

 

They built themselves a buoyant boat
Where those afloat each had an oar
A coxswain pulling steering strings
They had team strategies galore
Though sometimes paddle angles
Out of rhythm lost their strokes
Causing stress upon the slipstream
And all the effort that provokes
They pulled hard into a watershed
To rearrange some seat positions
With a view to change some crew
In hope avoid offset divisions
New oarsmen who felt fit and strong
Demanded much more stray their way
Causing louder shouts and coxswain strain
Schemed other routes to sway the day
Not noticing the buoyant boat
Now overweight from too much drink
As the coxswain pulling other strings
Watched the whole caboodle sink
Floating homeward to the shoreline
To stand again they all agreed
That rudders lacking engine strength
Made their failings guaranteed

Tuesday 10 July 2018

Hard Pressed


What makes a mind
want to write down its stuff
Teasing out words 
like it can’t get enough
Continually drafting
Annoyingly rough
To produce gut reactions
Quips straight off the cuff
Lines going criss-cross
A mish mashing slough
In a jumbled-up story
Playing blind man’s buff
Taunted by characters
On a shin digging scuff
Entrenched in tale telling
Distracted by bluff
Then gathering dust
In a snow storm of fluff
Settling on pages
Wrung out in a huff

Monday 9 July 2018

Hullabaloo



In a world of din surrounding us
Blaring blasts of clatter noise
Rumpus rackets clamorous 
Raining death on our enjoys
Sounds of silence in the naked light
Reading lips of words unheard
Sitting hushed inside a padded cell
A Nightingale sings undeterred
On a hypertensive turmoil train
Ruckus clacks on railway tracks
Disrupting anybody’s quiet life
Relieved when carried off in sacks

Sunday 8 July 2018

Sunday Morning Dressing Gown

Are you the tooth fairy? 
No I'm the Truth Fairy.
Jimmy? did you know you are responsible for how your life turns out?
At the same time there are forces which uou have no hope of controlling which can damage your life forever! 
Not only are these seemingly contradictory statements I'm not sure which one is more daunting.
One more thing, someday you will die.

The Sunday hours are striking bells
The Sunday morning all around
For those who like to be among
Shared dreams of most profound
For those enjoying hearty breakfasts
Sunday papers wholesome reads
A distant ring reminding each
How kinship benefits from good deeds
That was the way when people met
To weekly meet whatever next
Now Vicars from their pulpits send
Their sermon messages in text

An Eke Name

 

Let’s assume by other nom de plume
See one eyed royals one eyed jacks
Watching out for one eyed geezers
Especially kings who pack the axe
Or the paleface in the background scene
Who was never one to boast
And could fade away in brighter lights
To be known by all as ‘Ghost’
Peg-Leg with her walking stick
Tap dancing in the night
A nom de guerre to fear beware
Will fill your sleep with fright
Those known around localities
Who play along to win the game
Clandestine cryptic monica’s
With their spritely spite nickname

Saturday 7 July 2018

Off the Page


Air aglow with burning midnight oil
Flaunting thoughts in monochrome
Keeping up with tempo metrical
That driving rainfall metronome

Scrawling anything incessantly
To find a meaningful resource
In a pitter-patter splatter
Out of key without remorse

As expected when the flood subsides
Raking through the sediment
How growing plants need not preserve
All other ways to represent

So in the end we’ll start again
As we take it from the top
Enthusing every chorus line
In figure dancing skip and hop

Friday 6 July 2018

Tell Us Another One Do


Oh, how they howled with laughter
At the Joker’s turn of phrase
Who could make a sentence ticklish
By underusing overplays
Keeping declarations clear to hear
With funny use of common speech
Could surprise and light expectant eyes
By putting mundane out of reach
For that’s the way to tell a joke
By turning tables altogether
Using down to earth for all its worth
In the vane of merry weather
Amusement seeks out laughter lines
Tapping in to smiles preferred
It’s not the joke but how it feels
When giggle punchlines smack absurd

Thursday 5 July 2018

Shambhala


 We’re putting up a garden fence
A warm embrace around our place
For when we feel the need to sit
And contemplate our special space
We’ve planted three magnolias
To satisfy our background glance
Amid arrays of hanging basketry
Where we can breathe in leisure’s trance
We like to call it Camp Composure
Our natural room to point our view
A trickle charge of sweet tranquillity
In twilight trace of mindful dew

Wednesday 4 July 2018

Lines of Force


In circles that she mixes in
Discussing views around the rim
Not taking sides on central points
Or moving outside on a whim
Avoiding one side of the argument
Until it’s clear why they agree
Steering clear of taking too much spin
Just for the sake of harmony
Taking votes by showing hands apart
Coining phrases to explain
Allows the middle ground a foothold
Forestalling digress in the main
Each turn is taken in the ring
Where spheres of influence surround
What goes around can turn two ways
Preventing knockout blows unsound

Tuesday 3 July 2018

Not Well Blessed



Erupting sprays of grubby spores
Discharging from my Nasal cleft
infective panic chaos manic
No healthy airspace left
Screams of “did you have to mate”
As I reeled weak kneed from shock
No chance I had to hold it back
Every stiffened limb in lock
I stumbled through like Quasimodo
Bumping shoulders spilling drinks
Spluttering drooling dripped apologies
As more eruptions scaled their brinks
“Oh My God make way, make way”
The hostess bellowed in disgust
Then I skidded on a sliding cube
More like a raging bull in must
With streaming eyes and breathlessness
I now began to cough and wheeze
I seized a passing waiter’s cloth
Then blew the tray with one last sneeze