Poem - written after passing a dead fox in the rain

Reynard in Rain

Fur; dirty, limp, in flying spray

sad and quiet, laying flayed

each passing car is washing fur

the only sound the rasping purr

of an engine.

Blood; long dried and stilled

in a body cool and killed

fleet of foot but none can outrun death

and now just skin, fur, bone, no breath

is left behind.

Copyright: / 123RF Stock Photo

Nursery rhymes, are they nursery safe?

I love nursery rhymes. And I love fairy tales. I briefly talked about them in the post about DD being Snow White, and that their purpose is often to help children understand big life issues, in small easy to cope with pieces.

Nursery rhymes are often political in nature though, or started as cruel playground chants about real events. Not so much made for children as hijacked by them or create by them. Children too can be vicious and cruel.

This came to mind the other day when someone on twitter commented on a book their child had brought home from school, the story involved throat slitting! And other tweeters joined in the discussion of its suitability. I was immediately cast into my childhood, and a book I was given in 1968 when I was 3. The Giant Golden Mother Goose. I still have it.

I thought I'd share some of the best, the most gruesome of the nursery rhymes, most of them became favourites and I read them with glee to DD.  

Of course you have all heard "Fee Fi fo fum.." 

And then there is rock a by baby where a baby falls from a tree, or the maid that has her nose pecked off in Sing a song of sixpence. In Ding, Dong, Dell a cat is flung into a well and nearly drowned...

But there are more, so many more, so let me share some childhood memories.

Baking children in pies, OK then...

Cats beating and scratching each other so much there is only fur left...

A personal favourite due to the awful imagry and the bizarreness of the poem

And back to eating children again, I adore this rhyme and often sang it to DD with her name in place of Davy, while pretending to eat her!

What are your favourite nursery rhymes?

Wait, every other ...what?!

It's been a while since a song in the charts has moved me enough for me to blog about it.

I last ranted about song lyrics here.

Recently DD and I had a long car journey and I was thrilled forced to listen to Radio One for most of the journey. During that time I was privileged to hear ALt J sing Every Other Freckle. I was so amazed by the bizarre lyrics that I assumed I had misheard them (after all I am old) but DD googled them on her clever mobile telephone and sure enough...

So without further ado, here are my thoughts on the song


 Every Other Freckle

Aaah >>open wide ladies and gentlemen because ...
I want to share your mouthful > you see! He's diving right in...
I want to do all the things your lungs do so well > such as breathe? OK then, continue breathing, I'm ok with that...
I’m gonna bed into you like a cat beds into a beanbag >This is where we start getting weird...you want to WHAT? I'm seeing that whole paw-kneading thing and I'm not sure my belly can take it to be honest...
Turn you inside out and lick you like a crisp packet >OK now we have passed through weird and out into freaksville, I can only hope I don't taste of Prawn Cocktail (sorry)

Hey!
Hey!
Hey!
Hey!
Hey!
Hey! >hey

You’re the first and last of your kind >Fairly sure other humans exist and I'm not really sure if this is complimentary
(Hold me like an animal on top of her) >I rarely hold animals on top of me, I think you can get into trouble for that
I wanna be every lever you pull >all the boys say that
And all showers that shower you> Yeah OK I'm not into golden showers or water sports in general...
Gonna paw paw at you
Like a cat paws at my woollen jumper >You seem a tiny bit cat obsessed - do you get out much?
Me, I’m in bin >hmmm
Ignore her worth, and some trivia

Hey!

Ooh, devour me >yeah, but no
Aaah
Lou Lou, let the cover girls sing
Hey!

Do, do do do, do do do do
Do do do, do do do, do do do do, do do
Do, do do do, do do, do do, do do
Do do do, do do

All hand claps
Human claps
Let me be the wallpaper that papers up your room >slightly odd, like a fly on the wall you mean? but thinner, more spread out?
I want to be every button you press >you are not really pressing my buttons so far, this might be the least romantic song I've heard since the last one
And all mouths that surround you > slobbery
Yes, I’m gonna roll around you > crushing
Like a cat rolls around the chrysanthemums >OK enough with the cat thing, maybe you just should get a cat?
I’m gonna kiss you like the sun browns you >hot kisses? best thing you've suggested yet

Hey!

Oh oh oh oh oh devour me
Oh oh oh oh oh oh devour me
Oh oh oh oh oh (Oh oh oh oh oh)
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh (Oh oh oh oh oh)
If you really think that you can stomach me > fairly sure I can't by this stage actually, sorry

Hey hey!

Hey!
Hey!
Hey!

I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
I want every other freckle
Freckle >and we're done.

weirdo

Valentine's Day Poetry for you

A bit of culture on the blog today

To his Coy Mistress
by Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

        But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

        Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.



I love this poem, always have. The power of love and lust that is shown in all that the writer suggests he would like to do, follwed by the realisation that there just isn't time so...well we may as well just get on with the sex! So macho, so traditional, always makes me smile. Would it work for you? Would you cave in? 

Wilderness Festival 2013 - a review in poetry

Come with me to the wild wild wood

 And see where pixies roam

 Where sprites and fairies late have stood

 Their bare feet on the loam

Come and look in the wild wild wood

Where any attire ‘goes’

Flowers, feathers, golden masks

And even spandex hose!

 

Come and write in the wild wild wood

 And tell tall tales of tails

Smile and tell your fairy myths

Of gardens, spas and snails

 

Come and eat in the wild wild wood

 More soup, or cake, or chips

But now it seems it’s pizza time

Tomorrow veg and dips

 

Come and drink in the wild wild wood

Vodka, by the glass

And cider, beer and cocktails too

Until you sleep at last

 

Come and skate in the wild wild wood

Whooshing through the trees

Slipping, sliding down the slopes

Landing on your knees

 

Come and shop in the wild wild wood

Vintage, bags and hats

Bubbles, jewellery and drums

The tails and ears of cats!

 

Come and play in the wild wild wood

Nude cricket or ping pong

Drink, and practice circus skills

Maybe sing a song

 

Come and swim in the wild wild wood

Or lay and watch the fun

Splashing lazy like a dream

Under the warming sun

 

Come and rest in the wild wild wood

Sleeping by the lake

Or lay on the grass all soft and cool

And in sun, gently bake

 

Come with me to the wild wild wood

The best festival to roam

Experience the sights and sounds

And wish it was your home…. 

 

You might have guessed I adored this festival. It really was gorgeous, filled with beautiful people in beautiful costumes, doing beautiful things while eating beautiful food and listening to beautiful music in a beautiful place.  

My 'must do' festival for next year. (even a kids field so no excuses for parents not to go)

11/10 on my fabulous festival scale

The Teen

slow silence, in a shadowed room

long into the morning still the gloom

of curtains left unpulled

the twilight world of mobile phone glow

of clothes that won't go

by themselves to the laundry basket

steady listening to the loud beat

of relentless songs on repeat

but no talking to anyone

one day the light will dawn

and the caterpillar, finally born

a butterfly, a daughter will emerge

Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

 
A poem...what I just wrote.

Plastic Bags - #NationalPoetryDay

A rustling in the trees, as of crinolines in halls

A swoop and slide, as owls in flight.

Whisper quiet, on white feet along the pavements they run

Hiding and sliding from the weather's breath

A flash of colour, a sudden sight as they soar into the air

Dancing on sunbeams as light as butterflies.

5p? Too cheap the price for disposable beauty that clogs the land with poison.

• Plastic bags are rubbish and in the EU we create more than 800,000 tonnes of plastic bag waste each year

• Use of plastic bags in the UK has gone up this year to over 8 billion single use carrier bags produced

• These plastic bags will litter our environment for over 2,000 years - polluting our seas, our cities, our countryside and killing our wildlife

Now for some optimism

It's not inevitable! In countries where a ban or 5p charge has been introduced plastic bag use has typically dropped over 95%.

Lush are supporting the Break the Bag Habit campaign and asking the Government to implement a 5p charge following the model introduced in Wales.

With this model retailers would be required by law to charge 5p for bags with all profits from the charge going to local environmental charities! Everyone's a winner!!

Lush are running a competition to coincide with the initiative. Click the picture below for more information.

Lush Monster Bag Challenge

  

There are so many great places to buy fabulous cotton bags - we really have no excuse!

here are a few I love

Etsy - Crocheted goodness from Aniknits

Ebay - Simple bags you can get the kids to paint at home! or draw on with Sharpie style permanent pens.

Or make a statement With 'We are what we do'

Do you carry a bag 'just in case'? Do you use plastic bags? What do you think about a 5p charge? Would it make you remember your bag?

The Rain (A poem)

The rain it raineth on the just

and also on the unjust fella,

but mostly on the just because

the unjust stole the just's umbrella

anon (and always makes me chuckle - I'm easily please)

The one where I post some old poetry from the 80s

OK so my cop out, I wrote this when I was 18 or so, the world was a black and white place and I KNEW what was right and what was wrong.. Obviously now I'm a grown up (haha!) I'm no longer so sure, but despite that, and while many of my teen poems (more later if you are good!) have aged very badly, I still rather like this one. (I've copied it as I originally typed it on my typewriter! LOL all the punctuation is original!)

Tiger Tiger (with apologies to William Blake)

Tiger Tiger, shining bright,

Tell me what you see tonight,

Do you see the blood red moon?

Hear the guns they'll bring here soon?

Tiger do you smell the sweat?

Hear the rustling of the net?

See the glinting of their eyes?

Crouch so low and purr them lies.

Tiger how you loved to run,

Sniffed the moon and heard the sun.

Now you lay in aching fear,

Sense the hunters coming near.

Tiger never fear a man,

They weren't here ere you began,

You roamed the earth and paced the sun,

Don't fear man - just fear the gun.

Tiger hear a shot rings out,

There a beater, here a shout.

Crouch a little longer yet,

Stiff and cold your bones are set.

Tiger swipe with glowing paws,

Tear the men-shapes with your claws,

Kill a million; drink their blood;

Feel the bullet; taste the mud.

Tiger proudly on a wall,

Your head displayed for one and all.

The snarl that killed one hundred soldiers

Looked much better on your shoulders.

Watching the BBC show, Lost land of the Tigers, last night made me remember this poem. and @verymuchreality made me brave enough to blog it

Poems and Memories of childhood

Image credit: teerapun / 123RF Stock Photo

A while ago I blogged about my grandma, she was my mum's mum (so cute, that thought, like matryoshka dolls!). My dad's mum died when I was only about 3 and I have no real memory of her, and just a framed print with a poem on it that she gave me when I was 2.


The poem:

Little Girl so roguish,

little girl so gay,

May the years all hold for you

time to romp and play

and when duty calls you,

may you do your part

just as eagerly and well

bless your little heart

now I hear you all cringing and maybe even vomiting but it was in the 60s and she was brought up in a time when duty and being a 'girl' and being 'proper' were all terribly important. Anyway it reminds me of her and I like it - I also like that she exalted me to be roguish and gay! lots of romping still to do too - may eventually do my duty - who knows.

Funnily enough my dad's dad (my granpop) was a poet (but didn't know it - as he often said) he was full of silly jokes and silly rhymes and now I find my self saying them to my daughter - she finds them as hilarious as I did. Some are well known rhymes and others are more obscure but I thought I'd blog them, as much for me as for you :-) but if you are reading, enjoy, and thanks.

*warning total lack of any political correctness

Where was Moses when the light went out?
In the dark

And the Lord said to Moses "all the Jews will have long noses, except for Aaron, and he'll have a square'un"

And the Lord said to Moses "Come Forth!" (but he came 5th so he lost his pocket money)

Cough it up! Might be a gold watch!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ladles and Jellyspoons

I come before you
to stand behind you
to tell you something
I know nothing about

Next Thursday,
which is the day after Friday,
there will be a Ladies meeting,
for gentlemen only.

Admission is free
you can pay at the door.
we'll give you a chair
and you can sit on the floor.

It makes no difference
where you sit
The boy in the gallery's
sure to spit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One fine day in the middle of the night
Two dead boys got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other

One was blind and the other couldn't see
So they chose a dummy for a referee
A blind man went to see fair play
A dumb man went to shout "hooray!"

A paralyzed donkey passing by
Kicked the blind man in the eye
Knocked him through a 9 inch wall
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all

A deaf policeman heard the noise
And came to arrest the 2 dead boys
If you don't believe this story's true
Ask the blind man, he saw it, too!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not last night but the night before, the sea caught fire!
the deaf man heard it
the blind man saw it
and the man with no legs went running for a fire engine
which was pulled by two dead horses,
they ran over a dead cat and half killed it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next song,
will be a dance,
sung by a female gentleman,
barefooted, with his fathers boots on,
sitting on the corner of a round table
eating vinegar off a fork.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so there is no point to this blog post - no great meaning, just a silly reminiscence of my grandparents on my fathers side..

...my granpop especially, an eccentric chap who had a large black dog called Satan, who told people to call him 'Major' although he was a spiv in the war not a soldier! and who believed that 'signs' and instructions (like, No Dogs, or Staff Only Past This Point, etc ) were not aimed at him.

He also told me that teapots and milk jugs in cafes were included in the price of the tea and so we could take them home, so we did!

what a terrible man, but what a fantastic granpop for a child to have - staying the weekend with him was like staying at a house with an overgrown child! we ate frozen custard from the tin! and chocolates that were from LAST YEARs Christmas tree, we played games that the built in wardrobe was a lift! "first floor, ladies underwear and old men's baggy trousers!" the memories are fabulous.

I hadn't realised until I began writing, how much I missed him