His odes, in many ways are like a zit...
An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it...
Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,
Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,
Rhyming so bad, they can ruin friendships,
Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,
He's not educated, so he struggles at penmanship...
Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!
He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.
Mental power, dreams, memory, have to the ether slipped...
He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has shlepped...
But is losing the battle; thus, about ready for his crypt.
His odes, in many ways are like a zit, yes I meant zit,
An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it...
Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,
Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,
Rhyming so bad, they can ruin friendships,
Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,
He's not educated, so he struggles at penmanship...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!
He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.
Mental power, dreams, memory, have into the ether slipped...
He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has shlepped...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
But is losing the battle, thus ready for his crypt
But the business went bust,
And I started to lust...
For a gal with a big bust...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I'm prepared, but not too keen, on my upcoming sepulchre,
To be honest, I don't see, to fit into human culture...
Well, I used to sociable, in fact I was a campanologer,
Waking folks up Sunday morning... was my main pleasure,
Which I took my time with because it was a pleasure!
The locals warned me off bellringing, with a fervour,
So, to avoid a pasting, I bell rang no more...
Anyway, it hurt my arms, then I got a shoulder fracture...
So, I bought a barrow, and became a costermonger,
Giving me so much time watch the sky and pareidolia!?
Mood Update:
While struggling to get the preceding crap ode done, I got got more and more confused. I may have just posted bits of a Snippet ode wot I done in between todays efforts. I’m having to write this stuff on Word, then I get a spell checker. Then cut and paste into Blogger, where the colour and font size usually changes and I have to go through it again! I got a little depressed with things, life etc..
However, I had a bit of good fortune, in taking a tumble while I was making a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. Cracking the left knee on a cabinet corner, as I went down. Everything seemed to change then, outlook and contentment-wise.
I suddenly gleaned previously an unthought, series of thoughts:
① Why am I worrying? The end is nigh, and whatever I do, the
Doctor will not accept Doreen Dementia’s existence, so there is not a chance in
hell of getting any help. ‘Fact!’
② As much as I miss my daily hobbles, and walk to the shops, and
in the tree copse. I no longer have the ability to take them. ‘Fact’ –
just accept it Chambers!
③ Walking into things, may get less after I’ve had the eyes done.
No point in fretting over it, the right eye cataract will take time to work,
but there is a good chance I will again be able to do crosswords (not that I
was any good at them, Hehe!), Not fret over the other eye being done
afterwards. It’ll take a long time ‘Fact’.
④ Should I snuff-it before they are done, well would it matter? Apart
from an unknown to me battle to get at my valuables from sudden relatives who
care… I won’t be around to see it, and I can’t take them with me, so good luck
to them. ‘Fact!’
⑤ I tried thinking about happier times… that was not easy Hehe!
But Suzanne Jean Percival came to mind first and foremost, and there really were
genuine happy memories. ‘Fact!’
⑥ That made me feel worse when I realised my current position...
So quiet here today, even the noisy standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, reticent, toploftical,
git in the flat above was not making any noise! Loneliness is something that
rarely affect me, but it did then. No one visiting. No phone calls, text messages… a sense of
isolation. ‘Fact!’
⑦ After I’d cleared up the mess in the kitchen, and Phorpain gelled the knee, I mad another brew, of Glengettie tea this time, the mood rose... without any reason, nothing had changed, yet suddenly I was ashamed of myself – and self-loathing at my pathetic self-pitying took over. ’Fact!’
⑧ There are so many others in a worse state than I am. Somehow, although of course it didn’t cheer me up, but my acceptance of things got stronger.
So I got on with this blogs making
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit
Five excellent odes. It is that so many things you used to do to keep you going have been taken away in home jail existence. You can still put together excellent odes.
ReplyDeleteA heartbeat by heartbeat account in reality — the actual occurrence in the rhythm of a day. Most people do not even participate in their own lives, but our hero allows us to join him in the Ham of Notting. No fluffing the faffing, the faffing needs no embellishment, costume, nor mask. And no parole boarder is Sir Inch, he receives no remuneration for making the wrong decisions in matters of fair and reasonable justice for the criminals who shed the blood of citizenry, who rape and pillage at a whim.
ReplyDeleteA purveyor of wonderful words that thrill the ear: costermongers are unknown in the realms I have travelled, yet I know them well and now under another appellation. I didn't even know that I was an aficionado of pareidolia until visiting the Days of Inchie.
A life, well, lived.