what the dickens…
a poem I wrote some years ago — as of posting this in 2025 (probably around three decades, in fact!) in a moment of desire to try to work in various Dickensian references (more-or-less :D)… it took a little research and I still have to read several of Dicken’s opuses referred to in the rhyme… […]
the dire old duke of york
a attempt at a tongue-in-cheek poem about a particular, and seemingly/allegedly rather distasteful, example of British ‘pompousness’ and ‘circumstances’… written a few days before Mr. Mountbatten Windsor was not only de-duke but also ex-princed… NOTE: this item might include exaggeration (in respect of number of teens) and slight underestimation (in respect of number of teddy […]
the power of words
there is much truth in this statement… many current sources that influence other people’s lives through their words seem to do so without care, without thought or else with deliberate malice/self-interest/manipulative-intent aforethought. I think it’s true that great care should be taken in the words we use when we are trying to communicate clearly and […]
some passing thoughts on death
(initially written as a brief response to the suggestion that ‘people aren’t afraid of death but afraid of the uncertainty of what comes after death’:) even ‘Death’ can become a matter of ‘fight or flight’. But if there is fear then I think that it is not so much the fear of what may be […]
what did nostradamus see?
another short poem for the moment… ‘The Seer-Saw’ Is this what Nostradamus saw? In quatrains foretelling earthly Hell Of fires and strife, of flames and war Such scenes as these it seems could well Have been what filled the seer’s mind And made him wont to write of doom Of burning lands and angry mobs, […]
big pharma: fleecing the sheep
just prior to coming across the video production Vaxxed III from Children’s Health Defense (a heartrending film that everyone should watch) I had jotted down a short verse… as follows: Big Pharma ‘Big Pharma’ they call themThough they plough not a fieldAnd they care not a jotFor how much crops yieldThey keep not a chickenNor […]
the tart and the vicar 1888 (a biographical poem)
a curious addition to the poems I have composed and somewhat different in that, except for the first few lines (that I woke up thinking of a couple of years ago), I did some quick biographical research after which the rest of the verses seemed to flow naturally… this then is the imagined and fateful […]
smells like groupthink (a vintage poem)
in checking out the dusty, virtual shelves of my old pc this, another poem heretofore not published, that I initially wrote perhaps close to 40 years ago — so well before the current age of ‘small screens’ and handheld devices that have, in some ways, displaced the traditional tool of mass-influence the ‘tv’! yet television […]
january joy
it’s the first month of the year (2024 — 😀 on the assumption this blog may still exist in years to come!) but here in Portugal the weather is unseasonably spring-like…Sun currently shining is mild and tempting all the usual frolics and fecundity of the coming season to erupt a little early: January Joy Percussion […]
a poet’s plight | an ironic short poem
Ironically inspired by a ‘visitor from Porlock’ this short poem refers to the individual who even caused the tale of Kubla Khan to be cut short… 🙂