Showing posts with label Big Tent Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Big Tent Poetry. Show all posts

Monday, March 7, 2011

Alien



BIG TENT POETRY

asks for something scientific!


ALIEN!

I dreamed I was a Martian, with a normal Martian look,
Chancing upon a picture in a Natural History book.
A Human From Outer Space' it said, and I viewed it once or twice,
Because the ghastly creature really wasn't very nice!
It's ears were little curled-up flaps, it had a pink blob for a nose;
It stood up on its back legs in a very curious pose;
It had furry stuff on top of it's head, and also in its ears;
And its eyes were permanently washed by sort of ever-dripping tears;
It's hands were quite deformed with digits, ten of them, all splayed!
Was it any wonder that this 'thing' made me afraid?
I found myself repelled! This creature didn't look like me!
What an awful alien for anyone to see!
*
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THE SINGING BRICKS!

Some may build with plaster, some may build with brick,
Some may build with granite, that is very strong and thick.
Some may build with mud-bricks, and some may build with straw,
Some may build cathedrals that fill us all with awe.
Some may build a house of cards, that topples to the ground,
Some were built for all time and the relics still astound.
*
But all we had was people, not all of them could sing.
But they brought enthusiasm, that so vital thing.
And, as they gained in confidence, their voices grew more strong.
A warble soon became a note that was rich and full of song.
They found that they could harmonise and make the rafters ring;
They very soon discovered what fun it is to sing!
Each one of us was just a 'brick', but we had a great desire
To join, as in a building,
and build ourselves a
A CHOIR
*

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PS
Some friends and I had a pleasant lunch at The Beaches today.
*
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Friday, February 25, 2011

The Long Holiday

Not us, but the mood is identical!

BIG TENT POETRY
THE LONG HOLIDAY

I'm well-aware Old Age can be
A time of great adversity,
And I don't want to make a joke
Out of the pain of other folk.
However, I am here to say
Retirement can be a holiday
For those of us who've had the luck
To age, yet not become unstuck.
*
Creaks? We've got them everywhere;
Also thinning or greying hair;
Replacement hips? Replacement knees?
Of course! For items such as these
Are part of the general wear and tear.
Perfect specimens are rare.
Comparing 'symptoms' is quite fun......
'Have you got one?' ......'Yes, I've got one.'
*
Now, if you're under thirty-five,
You'll think 'Why bother to survive
In such a state of sad decay?
These dogs have certainly had their day.
I'd simply take a little pill
If I were heading-off downhill!
Youth is passion, youth is vigour!
I'd hate my stomach to get bigger!'
*
Now, chickadees, turn your tiny brains
To all the many obvious gains!
I've been retired for twenty years
And every year I've raised three cheers!
Imagine a life in which you're free
To turn each day into a spree!
Wake when you like, and keep pursuing
All the things you most like doing!
*
When your turn comes I know you'll say
'Life's an unending holiday!'
*

-----------------------------------------------------


ACCENTUATE THE POSITIVE!

A placid scene of sea and sky.
But surely a giant shark floats by!
Surely I see a monstrous fin!
Against such a creature we cannot win!
In such terrible situations
Concentrate on the cloud formations!
It almost becomes your bounden duty
To fill your mind with surrounding beauty!
*

Monday, February 14, 2011

The Muesli Murders

THE MUESLI MURDERS
by
Brenda Bryant

Written for
BIG TENT POETRY
who asked for the title of something unwritten!

My unwritten novel would have the theme of chicanery, murder and vice.
(I've never written a novel; I've considered it, once or twice.)
There'd be a devilishly clever killer and a lot of sin and sex
And the plot would be designed, of course, to puzzle and perplex.
Why 'muesli' in the title? Well, has it been done before?
And I love alliteration as much as blood and gore!
Also, muesli would be a vehicle for the murderous intent.
A jumble of bits and pieces would be almost heaven-sent.
If muesli were part of the killing, I'd hide a poisoned berry
In among all the goodies! Now that is clever! Very!
But if muesli were part of the cover-up, just consider with what ease
One could box bits of body in muesli! Golly Moses! What a wheeze!
The cutting-up might take ages, but who would ever guess
That harmless boxes of muesli would hide such wickedness?
The killer could take the boxes, one at a time, no doubt,
And hide them in supermarkets! No-one would ever find out!
(Except, maybe the purchasers! I hadn't thought of that.
Maybe they'd turn up their noses and feed it to the cat!)
Don't ask me about victims; I really haven't a clue.
Don't ask me why they are as they are, or do the things they do.
I've never written a novel. Maybe this is the reason why;
I'm no good at fleshing-out people; only the way they die.
*
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*
FRAMED!


A window can be circular; a window can be square;
A window can be opened wide to let in the fresh air.
But here's a window on the world, a space without a name,
That has the lacy leaves around, making a living frame.
* 

Monday, January 24, 2011

Portrait of an Unknown Girl


BIG TENT POETRY

Aim: to comment as a photographer.

PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN GIRL

She looked a nice young kid, fresh-faced, with a sunny smile.
She was sitting in the sunshine, entirely without guile.
I was photographing scenery down there beside the sea,
And she looked up and laughed and said  'I dare you to take me!'
It was such an innocent request, made with a little laugh,
So, there and then, I captured her in a seaside photograph.
Her face was scrubbed and shiny, her hair in a pony-tail;
An everyday girl, she seemed to me, a casual, passing male.
As I turned to leave I questioned her; 'What's your name?' I said.
And, suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a sense of future dread.....
'My name is Norma Jean' she replied  'I'm changing it, you know.
My new name will be so pretty........
It's Marilyn Munroe.'
*
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SINGING THE BLUES
(A Memoir)

 

When I was in High School my uniform was a terribly drab navy blue
And throwing it out for a pretty dress, well, that was a dream come true.
But things changed a lot when I went to sea and a uniform was required!
Suddenly navy became the shade that was all that my heart desired!
I'd a little peaked cap with a badge up front and epaulettes on each shoulder
And I felt so smart in my uniform: very mature, much older!
Older in quite the nicest way, a woman of the world I thought,
With high, high heels and a nipped-in waist, and a great deal of fun in port.
Now navy was fine for the colder climes, but not so good in the heat
And there came a time on every trip when the captain announced a treat.
'Whites will be worn tomorrow!' The message came over the air.
We suddenly knew we could blossom, for Whites were the thing to wear.
We still kept navy epaulettes, showing Union Castle Line,
But the Whites were so much classier when the weather was hot and fine.
And I always felt quite sorry when, on the homeward run,
The weather turned cool and wintry and clouds disguised the sun.
'All hands will wear navy tomorrow' the message was loud and clear
And you don't disobey ship's captains! You'd be thrown out on your ear!
But life was still fun in navy, both for officers and for crew
And I still remember them fondly, my days in navy-blue.
*

Friday, January 14, 2011

Bingo!!



BIG TENT POETRY
http://bigtentpoetry.org/
asked us to use words from a list!

BINGO!

My mind was thin and frugal
So I made a stab at Google
To get a list of words that I could rhyme.
I'd been told to use a list,
And I said 'If you insist';
It seemed a little tricky at the time.
I found a site called 'Bingo'
Which had a way with lingo,
Creating lists for bingo games in schools.
For the topic I chose 'Climate';
If I found a word I'd rhyme it;
It seemed a game without too many rules!
*
So here goes! I'll have a try.....
I see 'wet' and I see 'dry',
I see 'humid', and a reference to 'snow';
I see 'desert' I see 'grass'
I see 'frost' that shines like glass,
I see 'muggy' when we'd like a breeze to blow.
I see 'permafrost' that will stay
For ever and a day;
I see 'tropical' a glimpse of Paradise.
I see 'tundra', rather bleak,
And not a place I'd seek;
I see 'steppes' the site of freezing snow and ice.
'Semiarid' I must say
Says to me 'Best stay away'.
But 'savannas' sound enticing in a way.
'Subtropical'? Sounds good
And, clearly, so it should,
That's the climate that I'm living in today.
*
There are some that I have missed
In this Bingo Climate List,
And my verses are the opposite of lyrical.
But the fact that I could trawl
And find anything at all
Was, to say the least, an unexpected miracle!
*

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BACKSEAT DRIVER
(An Acrostic)

"Better let me navigate!
Aren't you going to accelerate?
Careful! You took that corner fast!
Keep to the left! He can't get past!
See! I told you the tyres were worn!
Easy does it! Not on the lawn!
Actually you should use second gear!
Turn here! Turn here! Turn here! Turn here!
*
Double-parking is a crime!
Remember you did it that other time!
It's getting late! Mind! Mind! Mind! Mind!
Vehicles coming up behind!
Empty parking over there!..........
Rudeness wont get you anywhere!"
*

Monday, January 3, 2011

On Foot

                                                                         Mary Dipnall

BIG TENT POETRY
suggested the topic 'feet'.

ON FOOT

In an age of increasing speed,
A footpath's what we sorely need.
Something to slow us down a little,
When life is bright and brash and brittle.
Soothe your senses with this sight;
Compare it with the world of 'byte'!
Picture yourself brushing through the grasses,
Where nothing heavier than footfall passes.
Smell the perfume of wild flowers
Where no scent assaults or overpowers.
Pick up a stone and view its veins,
The marks of soil and weather stains.
Marvel at all the living things,
 Those that crawl and those with wings.
Listen to the chirp of crickets,
In tufts and greenly pleasant thickets.
Sit yourself upon the stile...........
You've nothing at all to do but........
Smile.
*
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THE ROAD AHEAD

Setting-out on a thrilling journey;
Heading for who knows where,
But you know that the sun is shining
And you know that the weather's set fair.
What a long, long road you must travel,
With many a rut and stone!
And what we wish, Brave Warrior,
Is that you'll never travel alone.
*

Friday, November 26, 2010

Wordle

    
BIG TENT POETRY

My first attempt at one of these puzzles!

WORDLE!

When I awake and I've resurfaced
I find that dreams have hung around!
Last night I was in a filthy ash-pit;
The boiler's clunk made a fearsome sound!
I was fork-lifted up to safety!
Thankfully, the dream had passed!
Water, cupped in my hand refreshed me!
My new nib writes 'I'm safe at last!'
After the crush
Life is now lush.
*

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BLACK  MAGIC!
Etienne de Silhouette. Do you know the name?
And do you understand the reason for his rise to fame?
He wasn't any hero, that we must admit,
And the people of his day and age didn't care for him one bit!
He was a Finance Minister in eighteenth century France,
And his penny-pinching ways caused folk to look at him askance.
His hobby was paper-cutting, making portraits, black and white;
Such art-work was quite popular and quite a common sight.
But he cut the Budget to the bone , causing penury for the poor,
And so 'cuts' became his trade-mark as people suffered more.
'We'll only dress in black!' they cried 'To show our discontent!
The black of Monsieur Silhouette we're going to represent!
The rich may have their colours; we poor must do without.
Soon he'll get the message, of that there is no doubt!'
And, sure enough, poor Etienne was turfed out on his ear!
His cuts had been unpopular, people had made that clear.
But his name has lingered on till now, in the art of silhouette.
Even in this day and age the system's with us yet!
This black-and-white form of portraiture still has a certain charm,
And we still view Finance Ministers with something like alarm!
*

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Hornet's Nest



BIG TENT POETRY

This week we had to choose a title from the New York Times Best Sellers List.
I chose
THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNET’S NEST
 by Stieg Larsson


THE HORNET'S NEST

The girl who kicked the hornet's nest was surely ill-advised!
When they flew out and stung her, why was she surprised?
That she was in a nasty mood just cannot be denied,
But it would have more sensible if she'd sat down and cried!
So Archie Tonks had turned her down! There are worse things for sure!
For after all, poor Archie Tonks was something of a bore!
So she couldn't go to the Prom that night? Her pretty dress was wasted?
She wouldn't meet the other girls? The wine would not be tasted?
But why dash into the forest as though by fiends pursued
And find a hornet's nest to kick? Her attitude was skewed!
For millions of hornets swarmed about and stung her on the face! 
The knees and arms and nose and chin and every other place!
She fled home wailing bitterly, in terrible distress,
Looking scarlet and blotchy, in fact an awful mess!
She looked exactly like a clown! She'd stay that way for days!
She staggered up to her front door in a very painful daze!
Mother met her at the door and suggested embrocation,
But her words were not inclined to help in easing the situation.
'You've had a call' said Mother; said the girl 'Who was it from?'
'From the Captain of the football team! He wants to take you to the Prom!'
*
---------------------------------------------------------


ROMANTIC BEACH

Greg and Michelle had reached a stage when they wanted to be married.
But NOT overwhelmed by marriage plans, bullied, cajoled and harried!
So off they went to do the deed on the island of Fiji
Where they stayed in a luxury cottage with their own beach, by the sea.
My son took this peaceful photograph of their Island Paradise.
They were married right there on the beach.
With nobody throwing rice!
*

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Shadowy Shapes



BIG TENT
has suggested we improvise poems from lines 'borrowed' from other bloggers.
I have chosen the phrase in blue from
Mallery

SHADOWY SHAPES

Together we made shadows as we walked the path today;
Shadows in the plural. It was not always that way.
Not long ago we walked as one with arms always entwined;
And our embracing shadows were lovingly combined.
There was no space between us; it seemed that we were one;
The future represented by the shadow in the sun.
But then you spoke the cruel words never anticipated!
Our shadows separated! I stood shocked and devastated.
Together we made two shadows as we swiftly moved apart.
Now there is just one shadow; the shadow round my heart.
*
------------------------------------------------------------


LIGHT AND SHADE

Shadow showing and reflection
Almost in the same direction.
Here, my back is to the glass
And the little tugs that pass.
Yet we see a shadow spread
From a roof-truss overhead.
Different angles, different lines,
And a sun that hides but shines.
Shimmer up and shadow down
All on a day in Sydney Town.
*

Monday, September 6, 2010

Have a Nice One!


BIG TENT POETRY
'What I wish I'd said'

HAVE A NICE ONE!

Normally, I am polite,
Saying what I think is right.
When the check-out girl says 'Have a nice day!'
I respond in time-honoured way.
'You, too, dear' I tend to mumble,
Being all abject and humble.
Pretending that I can't see through
The little ruse she's addicted to!
'Make them think you care' They say,
The Bosses, directing this little play.
Sadly, we caught it from the Yanks!
Now hairdressers and shops and banks
Are parroting in the same old way
'Mind how you go, love! Have a nice day!
*
Tomorrow I'm planning to rebel,
I'm popping right out of my shell!
As soon as I hear the awful phrase
My lungs I'll fill, my voice I'll raise,
And everybody standing by
Will hear my revolutionary cry!
*
"You wouldn't care if I dropped down dead!
Those are stupid words you've said!
You've ruined my day, if you must know,
I came in here feeling all aglow,
Full of genial bonhomie!
Now, my lady, look at me!
I'm stressed and fretful, full of bile!
I feel like wrecking a shopping aisle!
I feel like lifting you off your feet
And throwing you out into the street!
I'd like to go home to a cup of tea
And a couple of biscuits, maybe three,
But because of the state you've put me in
I'm going home to a bottle of gin!
Then I'll get a headache: I always do!
And, sweetheart, that's because of YOU!
*
Your words have made me lose the plot!
Will I have a nice day? 
 I will NOT!
*
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Max when he first stood unaided. He is now almost four!

MILESTONES


I thought I'd remember, forever,
Those 'milestones' of which people spoke!
Weight at birth, then first word, and first friendships!
Forget them? That would be a joke!
I thought that affection preserved them,
Every detail I'd know from the start.
There was nothing on earth could erase them,
Those 'milestones' engraved on my heart.
But, forget them I have, I admit it,
Their statistics now pass in a blur.
And yet at the time, they engulfed me,
Causing such an emotional stir!
Now sometimes my middle-aged children,
Who're parents themselves by this time,
Request a statistic to guide them
And my blank look is almost a crime!
They ask for 'first words' or 'first teacher'!
They ask me 'Did I act this way?'!
I look like an uncaring Mother
For I've simply got nothing to say!
They slip through our fingers, those moments,
Which seemed set in concrete back then.
And I mourn, in contemplative moments,
For they'll never be babies again.
*