"straightaway" poems
inspired by
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5120189/love-cannot-be-controlled-or-confined/
<>
Love is Meant……
and there, I stop…
<>
nnnnyup; continuing on,
this phrase
a self~sufficiency, is it not?
no conditional clause, dangling particle,
no conjunction peg upon to hang your wintered hat,
no adjacent adjective for summer's ending sadness,
no preposition to lead us to sunny places, where we search more
for nouns and pronouns, or to project/protect, in adjectives to clothe our irrationality in logic-e,
logic to define, logic to confine,
illogically
love permits one to say to another human, you mine, hu-mine,
[an aside: "you mine,' (really?)]
a preposterous prepositional insanity notion, that needs no explication,
love is meant, love is meant, love is mean, dream & yet, meant!
stadium sized. concert hall big, mini pup tent,
love is clean+dirty s i m u l t a n e o u s l y
don't you see the self~sufficiency in that?
yet you still seek definition, reasoning, seasoning,
love is meant to-be bent irregular straightaway,
love is meant, to be/not, cold 'n bot, silly hot,
lover is inert, hurt, ert,(1)
love is every point of,
of a sword's length
hilt & blade,
yet ironic,
the tip alone
is a self sufficient *****
to be full~on damaging enough to ****
to fully comprehend,
that love is meant
needs no further modifying defying
pointless phrasal modification of explanation…
s u n d a y
(if the week did not commence with a sunday,
hu-mans would have needed to create one,
to understand,
love is meant)
4:39am
Sun Aug 10
Twenty Twenty Fidelio (5)
in a new york city frame of mine
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 8:06 AM UTC
I live
dream
die
to create
complete
each letter
word
turning phrase and
thought-out straightaway
You read
breathe
digest
every syllable
letters strung
like a popcorn necklace
fingerpainted fragment sentences
authoritatively artistic and
defended in brazen resolve
my keeper of the slight,
the nuanced, softly sung,
down-quilted gerunds:
holding, brushing, sweeping
tasting, loving
There is no sound in space.
No quiet nothings whispered.
The sunlight on my face
now scorching, cracking, blistered,
Starvation
comes quickly
when the cook's not around;
so when the words stop
if need be,
feast on me.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
On the outer Barcoo where the churches are few,
And men of religion are scanty,
On a road never cross'd 'cept by folk that are lost,
One Michael Magee had a shanty.
Now this Mike was the dad of a ten year old lad,
Plump, healthy, and stoutly conditioned;
He was strong as the best, but poor Mike had no rest
For the youngster had never been christened.
And his wife used to cry, 'If the darlin' should die
Saint Peter would not recognise him.'
But by luck he survived till a preacher arrived,
Who agreed straightaway to baptise him.
Now the artful young rogue, while they held their collogue,
With his ear to the keyhole was listenin',
And he muttered in fright, while his features turned white,
'What the divil and all is this christenin'?'
He was none of your dolts, he had seen them brand colts,
And it seemed to his small understanding,
If the man in the frock made him one of the flock,
It must mean something very like branding.
So away with a rush he set off for the bush,
While the tears in his eyelids they glistened —
''Tis outrageous,' says he, 'to brand youngsters like me,
I'll be dashed if I'll stop to be christened!'
Like a young native dog he ran into a log,
And his father with language uncivil,
Never heeding the 'praste' cried aloud in his haste,
'Come out and be christened, you divil!'
But he lay there as snug as a bug in a rug,
And his parents in vain might reprove him,
Till his reverence spoke (he was fond of a joke)
'I've a notion,' says he, 'that'll move him.'
'Poke a stick up the log, give the spalpeen a prog;
Poke him aisy — don't hurt him or maim him,
'Tis not long that he'll stand, I've the water at hand,
As he rushes out this end I'll name him.
'Here he comes, and for shame! ye've forgotten the name —
Is it Patsy or Michael or Dinnis?'
Here the youngster ran out, and the priest gave a shout —
'Take your chance, anyhow, wid 'Maginnis'!'
As the howling young cub ran away to the scrub
Where he knew that pursuit would be risky,
The priest, as he fled, flung a flask at his head
That was labelled 'MAGINNIS'S WHISKY'!
And Maginnis Magee has been made a J.P.,
And the one thing he hates more than sin is
To be asked by the folk, who have heard of the joke,
How he came to be christened 'Maginnis'!
3.1k
You make me feel different,
Leaving me in constant bewilderment,
Where others get to greet you once every day,
You make me wonder straightaway,
As you welcome me twice,
Once in the morning when I wake up,
Right before the start of my day ahead,
And, once at night during my sleep,
When you embrace me in my dreams.
May 29, 2024
May 29, 2024 at 5:54 PM UTC
Before I close my eyes ... Before I drift away ...
fallow as the evanescent tide grows low;
before the falling sun echoes
upon shown waves of estranged sandbars
Before I draw this life’s ending breath ...
as beclouding skies ache like a windswept shoreline
kissed by a bitter sweet gale of love and misery
beget a chilling spell cast of invisible winds of change
Before you no longer remember ...
the way the song a gentle wind's caress
swirls and sweeps away bare feet
set free to soar beyond the reach of your eyes
Before these eyes see the final sunset tiptoe down the sky ...
even the sun feels the dimming in its wake ;
unrequited footprints in the sand course straightaway,
never turning around to look back whence they came
Before another tide floods a deserted oceanside ...
erasing the traces of where we danced naked as the dark
glimpsing the diminishing horizon ―
and I let go .........
as the tears steal away the last glint of the sea
The way you took your love from me ...
© harlon rivers ... May15th, 2017
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
Love is more
than a ballet—
beyond gestures,
steps and poses;
more than a passing
summer breeze
soon forgotten;
a twirling pirouette
in an ever changing
season's fleeting dream
To really SEE,
— turn a blind eye
to the incantations
of what we're looking at
— lose sight of all
we preconceive —
FEEL the music
dance inside the note,
swimming deeply
inside the rivers
of its soul —
listen searchingly
to the fomenting breeze
as it fans the
smoldering flame
in your heart
Love is —
an erupted moment;
an enveloping
burst of flames
enkindling
an uncontainable wildfire
an unfolding chrysalis,
butterfly kisses wafting
in the halo around the moon
a thundering heartbeat
a fiery burning
ring enrobes —
an enchanted sunset
vanishing into an
evanescent afterglow
The downward spiral
of a burning ember
erupting in a rising moon;
climbing the rungs
of the twilight horizon
Words may sing a sad song
of love and misery;
some say: “love is forever”..,
a hesitant reminder —
your pretty words
and sweet lies
still linger where
sleeping memories lie:
you never really saw
my world straightaway
peering out through
the corner of your eyes
Looking heart to heart
through the glass reflection
within the window
of a poet’s pages,
when nobody else
in sight seems to care,
gazing right past you
like you're not even there;
only posing words
amongst the untamed
waves of emotional depth
Lying to myself
won't ever make
the truth go away
when you hear
whispered words
grow silent —
Love is more than a ballet ...
but I don't know a thing about "forever"
Jesse Stillwater ... October 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC
An angel chief--the precentor of heaven's
Unequalled choir--silvery and dulcet was his
Voice afore the throne of God and his fold;
Lovely and fair his appearance was to behold.
Hearken to him as he the King's celestial
Hymns leads that give adoration to his especial
Majesty, making melody along with the angels
Whole, while praising Jehovah in awe dwells.
But how soon would this angel change and be
Clothed no more in chaste grace and glory,
Rather in pride and pity! I'm more than ye all
Who in paradise live. I'm the foremost of all
Beings. Who're archangels Michael and Gabriel
Compare to me, Lucifer, the only greatest earl?
I the highest and the best-- sovereign being--
That towers above Christ the Son begotten;
I'll even God usurp! I'm the most powerful
Here; the morn star that's blindly beautiful!
Haughtiness so into him entered as cupidity into
Judas. And began he to say things profane to
God his Creator, the Maker of all. And thus
War there was between the defector's caucus
And the Lord's host. Michael, who's the principal
Of warfare wherefore Lucifer--the evil cardinal--
Engaged. How fierce beyond a running pen
Was that battle unspeakble in God's holy haven
Seen betwixt the faithful and the rebel!
Yet good unflinching conquered the uprising evil
And cast Satan straightaway down unto the earth
With one-third of the angels from heaven's berth.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 6:33 AM UTC
as you draw the value of rivers
and the fickle nature of clouds
and the real gift of sacrifice
from my favorite book,
i gaze down at the ghostly veins
in this loving cabbage palm,
and wonder how brown ale and stew
is the height of the day
and when it's enough
and how.
*********************
by a journey north
i make all my old feelings
warm and alert
i remember supposing
my love was covered in frost
at the foot of my favorite spruce trees
gathering pins and needles
i know i fall for those of no sitting
and those spurned by silent blessings
my deepest vaults have safe spots-
difficult to find-
easy to alight-
surprised when beheld-
all chambers listen.
the only thing keeping me fast
is that car and those country roads
this fastens me to your existence
as i note your remarkable motion to
the growing world,
nourishing religion,
and your experienced hands
how does a straightaway of field
bring me to this loss?
the car is the only, holding me fast
to my hopes battling inevitable sadness
towards the unknown glides of our paths
i run far ahead
because i want to see this future
in front
moving past
falling back
*************************
even over few solemn days
i want to know how you could leave me here
wrapped in ribbons of resplendent desire
and worried stutters
the only unusuality about your silence
is its absence
(likely misunderstood)
and such an absense is not voiceless -
simply careless no-speak -
neither sound nor kind listening
is present in this kind of brooding
where are the flowing rivers of your words
if not through the dark caverns in me?
who else has been trading softness with you?
more often have i gripped the hard glass,
the steering wheel,
the stiff drink.
was there a glimpse into shocked discontent
granting you sudden power to retract
from all my easy benevolence?
the trouble is this -
though you've been sweetly resistant,
i've never professed hot beckoning until now
********************************
when i turn into the sweetness of sick sheets
and your sleeping hands
i breathe in all the dew on your chest
and smile
realizing
i'm the idiot
waiting
*********************************
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
Before kids we drove
a blue Chevy Corvair.
No seat belts (of course),
so you could slide next
to me in the bench seat.
We rolled the windows
down to escape the gas fumes
and the staggering smell of oil.
But oh the sound of the engine
roaring behind us in the trunk
as we accelerated close together,
the streetlights all turning green.
We leaned into loose curves,
navigating to the straightaway
where we would open up and fly
like lovers from some Springsteen
song until the road became nothing
and the car disappeared and it was
just you and me hurtling to this place,
suspended by our own combustion,
carried by time, married by velocity.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Thank you for the self doubt, today.
I was too shocked to retaliate properly,
it seemed too obvious to say
the words that I wished to.
That I am not you.
I'll not make your mistakes
I won't choose those men
the type you forever chose
time and time again.
I'm not you.
I am filled with self consciousness,
low self esteem,
my trust issues are high
and my confidence is not what it seems.
You made me a wreck.
I'm not you,
I'm paranoid and
suspicious and
tense.
Always waiting in
suspense
to pull up my
defences once
again.
But, I'm not you.
I'm always going to try,
I'll always have to
trust with
reluctance,
but trust I must do.
I am not you,
I'm going to find
happiness, this
I know is true.
I'm going to be with someone
who doesn't make me scared,
instead one who comes to my defence,
one who does not glare me into a corner.
"She was not like the mother who bore her"
Romantic I may be
but ignorant I am not
I would rather rot alone
then jump into bed
fully besotted
straightaway.
I'd rather wait and stay
wary. Rather
worry about their lateness
of arrival
then get on the first ride
I see.
What was it you wished me to be?
Stop being scared about your mistakes
and allow me to be me...
After all of that I think I know who I want to be.
Partly you
Partly Dad
Partly memories
Partly friends
Partly family
but, mostly and absolutely
Me. Why is this so difficult for you to see?
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:36 PM UTC
Question: What do you do if your car crashes?
Answer: Don't crash your car.
I drove myself home from the hospital the morning after I drove myself insane.
A note in my hand listing ways the doctors could direct to get me home safe from my own self.
Come to a full stop at sharp edges,
Steer away from liquids you can drown in,
Put in your caution lights so people just drive around you,
Take your medicine,
Don't drive alone,
No not that medicine
Here's a phone number in case you have something worth saying,
Bus to class,
Unless that's too hard.
Flunk out
Call your mother.
Don't tell her everything.
And it becomes a challenge just to say I'm not okay.
Because after a disaster like mine,
No one wants to hear you haven't healed yet.
And I can't count the number of times I've been offered a vaccine instead of a remedy,
and scoffed at when the cast comes off and I'm still a little too broken.
As if I haven't healed fast enough.
Don't tell me I'm being overdramatic,
Don't tell me I chose the broken glass,
the bending steal.
That it was all avoidable had I just not blinked,
Had I just slowed down and stopped to think
Had I just snapped out of it.
I wouldn't have crashed.
Question: Have you ever gone driving in the rain?
In the snow?
Cause then you might know how it feels to lose just a little bit of control.
And the next moment find yourself in the bottom of a ditch,
waiting once again for someone to pull you from the wreckage
Because you can't save yourself.
I wanna save myself.
And I don't need to know how the engine works.
Just teach me to read the warning signs when I'm heading south and there's no way for me to turn around.
Let me know that when I start to let go, there are safety nets 'cause sometimes my mind is more of a balancing act, the bridge accident than a joy ride
So give me air bags,
give me seat belts,
Give me a crash test dummy.
If I cut the brake lines, show me how to coast to a stop.
Because people cannot live in a plastic bubble, rolling around at 5 mph for the rest of our lives,
repeating caution signs:
Don't blink,
Don't breath,
Don't move,
Don't freeze,
Don't drive,
Don't park,
Don't live.
Don't tell me don't tell me don't tell me
this is defensive living
Sometimes veering off the road, eyes shut tight on a straightaway covered in obstacles bigger than ourselves is the best we can do to survive.
Question: What do you do if your car crashes?
Answer: Just crash your car.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Sleeping. A minute or two at a time. Mark. This guy hit somebody. Awake. Coat on. Front door out. A silver hatchback is parked blocking our driveway. Drivers Door opens. A man with dark hair gets out. Italian maybe. Takes three steps. Sees me. And at once without any acknowledgement beyond eyes meeting he is back in the car. And it's all you can do to stare at the rectangle of pressed aluminum. It's white characters on green. 638 UAR 638 UAR. And then his car is gone again but not before you glimpse the passenger side front quarter panel. What's left of it. Man he did a real smack. And then Still in Costco house shoes You listen to the scrape of his tires drive away and walk the outer line of the front fence along the line of cars parked in front of your house and up the front door of your rather dory sort of spry 84 year old neighbor. As you reach her front door You see it is open and only the glass screen door is shut. Think about rapping but reach for the doorbell instead. And there she is. Hi you say. A guy hit one of your cars out front. Four cars parked out front. two silver two redfish. Well come in she says. You apologize for the house shoes. A dad don't. As you step inside you realize how close to Christmas it really is. Her entire house. Silver & red. Four women Sitting around The dining room table. Someone's car has been Hit 84 says. The murmurs at the table soon turn into realizations. And questions. Which car? I don't know. He left. I just came here straightaway with the license plate. You realize you've been saying it aloud this whole time. 638 UAR. And now you and 5 bible studiers walk back outside. It's the first car. A white silver one. Joy for not much damage but Enough to pray over.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
Kinda fainted Friday nite,
De doctor, he come, he say,
"Son you done
give us a genuine affright."
De doctor, he come, he say,
"Son, it's the end o' day,
Get your **** in bed straightaway"
"Here's what you be needing:
twelve tablets of hourly salting, no halting
eight hours bed rest, no dreaming,
four gallons o' tap water, drinking,
no stopping,
***"and for god's sakery,
cease and desist from
this writing,
poetry nonsense fakery."***
Weakly, I protested,
"My poems are the waste products,
the excretions of salt water tears,
a thousand years in the making,
dreams foretelling and retelling events disturbing.
If not removed, disinterred by their inscribing,
these poisonous emotions,
shall surely cause once more
my fainting and falling demotion."
He frowned, de doctor, he was perturbed,
his medical thinking cap was for sure disturbed!
With sighs that made my heart to be a stirring ,
De doctor, he come, he say,
held forth as following, quiet murmuring:
"Here is my prescription:
if you musting,
but with strict limitations it be enforcing:
*No more than four po-ems
De doctor permit to be writ*
per hour."
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Little do we know of what we know is very little,
too little to put the next step forward,
so little that we even hesitate in putting any extra effort.
With regards to drawing any conclusion at the present moment in time,
little do we know,
if anything about everything in the present,
very little.
Like happiness, even success cannot be achieved instantaneously
Only knowing that both success and happiness have got a definite place in everyone's life will not make things work,
more importantly we need to agree and accept upon the same.
Most importantly, consistent efforts need to be made in the right direction.
Initially it's need of the hour,
then later on,
of course the same becomes a kind of a habit.
Along with time, experience and expertise, patience and perseverance also play a major role in an individual's life.
Over a period of time after actualizing the right moment in time things start to take the right shape when success comes along the way.
Everything now depends upon the future, so ascertaining the future as of now is something that cannot be stopped.
Consistenly, over a period of time something goes on in the mind
There is a sort of restlessness that seeks into the mind
Same restlessness later on becomes a concern and over a period of time the same concern gets deeper,
concern is with regards to the future,
same concern also with regards to doing everything as quickly as possible in the present.
Anxious is the state of mind now, a little bit anxious and somewhat excited to know more.
More than what has already been registered by the mind an anxious mind tries to know everything in detail.
Thoughts in the mind race from present moment of time towards future,
of course, a future has always remained uncertain.
An uncertain future remains on hold and since been on hold,
of concern remains the future,
great concern.
An uncertainty about the future at first disturbs the mind, later on over a period of time there is a restlessness that sets into the mind.
What else is there as of now?
What else is the possibility with regards to the future?
Is there any other way out?
Is there a better way of doing things?
Quite possibly some kind of innovation can be done.
Little do we know of what we know is very little
Little do we know that there is no alternative to hard work and also there is no short cut to success.
Always it's better to play safe rather than to feel sorry later.
Always it's better to know everything at first instead of straightaway jumping on any sort of conculsion,
rightaway making any kind of decision,
since both of which can spoil the game.
Each and everyone plays a game in his life,
a game of his own choice,
a game which will decide the fate of his life.
Better to discuss each and everything first
Once done, then comes the final decision
Right or wrong, of course that fate will decide later.
Little do we know of what we know is very little,
too little to put the next step forward,
so little we know of what all we know that we hesitate in putting in any extra effort.
Even as for drawing any conclusion in the present,
little do we know,
if anyhing about everything in the present,
very little.
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
when I was little
my dad and mom
they expected me
to turn out
just like them;
exactly
like dad and mom
and indeed I turned out to be
as my dad and mom
Oh when I went to school
I expected classmates
to be appropriately like me
but they turned out
unexpectedly, unreasonably
like what they’d be
Oh I was shocked
and asked my parents why
the world was so deviant
and, in their received wisdom, they said:
“It’s an imperfect world
out there
What can you expect
from impure persons?”
When I went to work
and met many strangers
I knew straightaway
why they were called strangers
For their ways were indeed strange
and instead of being like me
they each turned out
like they’d be…
Then I got married
and my wife
turned out like what
I’d expected her to be
exactly like me
and we brought up our children
to be like me
But when they grew up
I was shocked to find
they were like strangers
and I asked my wife
if indeed they were my children
And so I thought I’d go on a tour
and I went to England and America
and I went to Russia and China and India
and Down Under
and I crossed from East to West and North to South
and I went to Mexico and in disguise to many nations
and everywhere I was shocked to find
none were like me
And I was reminded of my dad’s words, my mom’s words:
“It’s an imperfect world
out there
What can you expect
from impure persons?”
And so I came home
and found my wife too had changed
and she was no longer like me
and I sat down in my lounge
older, wiser, sadder, well-traveled
and now all-knowing what I always knew :
“It’s an imperfect world
everywhere
What can you expect
from impure persons?”
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
I was enfolded in a crimson shell of anger deep with pain
Frozen fate denying breath to my prayers
For so long I was mute to the sound of wind and rain
Until true love, took me from this snare
I was given hope from wandering in the cold and barren
All of my waters have been blessed
With the sweetest, soothing tint, of aquamarine
Banishing, this pain, I have confessed
Inside my heart has wakened now, joyous with surprise
Carrying a note inscribed with your name
Running straight up a hill looking into the eyes
Which true love, has unenfolded
Just the same
Tonight may slip right by us, and quietly lie hid
Yet always straightaway I will say
My heart became unenfolded at the calling of your bid
When your own, took my crimson shell away
Nov 6, 2010
Nov 6, 2010 at 10:03 PM UTC
I saw a fallen Apple fruit
Beneath the shadow of the tree
It was all red and cool and fresh
And worms have yet to partake its flesh
Round the fruit's awaited grave
Nothing lies but cool earth; Save
The footprints that lead to and from
This Apple tree that stood alone
This vast expanse of fielded loam
Straightaway I knew the answer to this enigma
Adam rose from the dead and found that he was hungry
He saw the Apple tree, rattled the branches so the fruit would fall
And seeing the prints where the snake did crawl
Decided that he was not going to eat at all
He left; walked around in search of Eve
And his son Seth so that they can run around naked and not toil till sundown
and relieve themselves from the burden
Of being first and last in Eden
Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 10:46 PM UTC
there's no need to be alone
so long as someone wants you
no reason to be sad
so long as there's happiness to be had
not for you
not a need to be afraid
unless you live with your fears
one track one line, a straightaway
only left to shift the gears
not for you
this machine
this marvel of a beast
a prize itself
but not for you
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 9:37 PM UTC
Well as the title suggests it is not a chase
Quite possibly because running’s out of the question
And also they are not even involved in a race
No, not even the hint of an exercise session.
The story is as follows: if I can put it clear
The day started slowly, they were in hiding
He did not want to, as usual, interfere
And generally the atmosphere was
subsiding.
That was until she burst in through the door.
With a worried frown on her floury face.
noticed the Duck had his nose to the floor
And heard the chicks were not in the nesting place.
“Maybe they’ve hatched and walked off
”The Pig thought it obvious and straightforward.
The Hen spluttered a nervous type of cough
And out from his hiding place shot a worried bird.
“Oh dear, oh dear,said the Hen we will help you”
The Duck sprang into action straightaway.
The Pig was saying no and had gone blue
Which was turning to an angry twitchy grey.
The Duck was pelting down the lane searching
Calling, enticing but no chicks were found.
Under his breath he was grunting
And heard the Pig suggesting they had drowned.
He slapped the Pig on his wig and frowned
He put his wing around the Hen and dried her tears.
Assured her that the chicks would be safe and sound
And said the Pig had only added to her fears.
He shot off again at a greater speed than before
His instinct came into play good and proper
Found the chicks and what is more
The Hen has adopted her star, her show stopper
The Duck a hero, was splashed on the news
The Pig hid behind the paper for a week
Where he had more than a little snooze
And the Duck’s goose chase was a winning streak.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
I'll tell you a story of a stony Island which had a beautiful beach.
In search of a touchstone, this secluded place some determined men used to reach.
This touchstone used to turn ordinary metal into Gold
Men came to search this stone to increase their wealth manifold.
Touchstone was there hidden within pebbles and stones and its colour was shiny blue.
Its greed used to effect adventurous souls like some dangerous and contagious flu.
A man with great difficulty reached this promised land
Next moment he was on beach searching stones and sand.
stones which were not blue were straightaway thrown into the sea.
He developed this habit of throwing and was never seen free.
He continued with this habit without any complain or fear
This went on till days became month and months became year.
One day after throwing a stone he stood stunned as if he was struck by thunder.
Because of his habit he threw touchstone whose colour was blue, what a blunder!
Now replace 'sectarian fights' with 'habit of throwing' and 'sects' with 'pebbles' and 'Islam' with 'touchstone'
All you wise men and women do I need to clarify any further, hold on to Islam your blue stone.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
I decided to throw a sickie,
I thought; What the hell?!
But I knew it would be tricky
convincing work I was not well.
I’m not the type to take the Mickey,
I’m normally as good as gold
And I was feeling a little bit dicky,
if the truth be told.
I just needed a day off or two
but had used all my holidays,
And I knew I would not be up to
doing very much anyways.
When I rang, I coughed and spluttered,
convincing as could be!
I won’t be in today I muttered,
ever so hoarsely.
I think I have an infection
but I’m not really sure,
My stomach keeps retching
and I have a temperature.
I have not slept since yesterday
with a pounding headache,
I think coming in to work today
would be a huge mistake!
“That is totally unacceptable”!
was the unexpected response,
“You will be in so much trouble
unless you come to work at once”!
“You had better come in this morning!”
“This is just not good enough!”
“Or I will give you a final warning,
and you can pack up your stuff”!
“If you do not come in today,
don’t ever bother coming back”!
“if you are not in work straightaway,
I will give you the sack”!
I was somewhat taken aback,
I could not believe my ears
To be threatened with the sack
after working hard for years!
I think I went into shock,
I was suddenly left reeling!
I was in an awful ****
Twice as bad I was feeling!
I could not help but stress,
I could not believe it was true.
So I went to work under duress,
what else could I do?
I was not long at my work station
when spark out cold I went!
Causing great consternation,
It was a major incident!
And when it was discovered
what had actually gone on,
before I had even recovered
the manager responsible was gone!
Thank God I recovered fully
after some rest and recuperation
and was able to retire comfortably
on my substantial compensation!
For all managers, a lesson
When people ring in sick,
You should never go off on one!
There’s no point getting thick!
You may be the one they fire
Where would be the gain?
And the target of your ire
may never have to work again!
You need to tread more carefully
In this litigious age,
You need to have the ability
To control your rage!
You may have a job to do
Lots of boxes you must tick
But if this is why they fire you,
Would you not be Sick?!
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
It was like a perfect storm
All the ingredients were there
It was like all the pieces had fallen into place
Taylor Swift was coming to Dublin for some gigs
My niece was a big fan of hers
I was a bit of a fan myself, she had some great songs and videos
She had just put out a new album and it was called
"The Tortured Poets Department"
Now I'd once written a funny poem (Electric funeral) and mentioned Taylor in it.
So my niece comes down to visit
And she asks "What have you been up to Uncle, I haven't seen you in awhile ?"
I looked at her a bit weirdly and then said real mysterious like
"It happened !"
"What happened ?" she asks a bit concerned,
"Taylor Swift happened".
"What! You mean you were at the concerts".
"Well, not quite... kind of".
"What do you mean ?"
So I explain "I once wrote this funny poem and Taylor Swift was in it, I posted it online
It has a lot of views"
Then I say "She must have read my poem and then read my other poems. Y'know she has a new album out, you know what she's called it ?"
"Yes! she replies "it's called... isn't it called The Tortured Poets Department"
"You see!" I say as if it's self evident, "my poems they inspired her new album. So of course when she came to Dublin she wanted to meet me... I was summoned... to go up and see her backstage
I was ushered into her presence
She had this lovely friendly welcoming smile just for me
And I could feel straightaway there was this... this chemistry, this spark there between the two of us
So I said to her "Careful now Taylor, if you ever fell in love with me girl
You'd start writing even better songs".
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 11:01 PM UTC
Posthaste after I begin to ruminate and induce myself into surmising that I've finally ran out of thoughts, you appear in some obscure form. Straightaway, a cascade of endless, unfathomable emotions and indiscriminate memories pour into my pool of thoughtlessness.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 12:26 AM UTC
I need to improve on a couple of things straightaway
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC