Thursday, 16 October 2008

L. Ron Hubbard?

L . Ron Hubbard?

When I see a swallow's wing
I think of Helliconia Spring
From a hole a Morlock creeps
And by a pool a Yahoo sleeps.
Jerry Cornelius, rides again
A hero amongst common men.
Rented-a-tent, Rented-a-tent
There's aliens crawling in through the vent.

It's life Jim, but not as we know it.
Give me warp and try not to blow it.
The worm-hole's closing now we're doomed
In Veils of Azlaroc - marooned.

I see the stargate shimmer there
Where the heat meets the air
I smile and wonder at the minds
That built these worlds for human kind.
The Arthur Seas and Asimov hills
It would be dull without such thrills.
Imaginations rich and bright -
But L Ron Hubbard? - Pile of shite!

Monday, 13 October 2008

Hygienists know a thing or two.

Ode to the Hygienist

She's a professional,
She's a health professional
If you don't show you're humble
She'll let let your molars crumble
She's a professional,
She's a health professional
Eye-shield and white coat prove it
She's got brains so move it.

You snivelling little pleb!

Just look at that bacteria!
To which you are inferior,
If you don't floss and clear this dross
She'll confiscate your bony plate
And lascerate your gums.

Cos, She's a professional
She's a health professional
And she nearly came top in her class.

Saturday, 4 October 2008


Free at Last

The door was left open,
I yearned to be free.
I hopped to the doorway,
Cocked my head to see;
The window was open
A breeze cooled my head
I heard a finch singing
"Here's freedom," he said.

With no further caution,
I flew to the sill.
I slipped through the op'ning,
Borne up by the thrill.
The clear sky above me,
Sweet meadows below,
Zephyrs around me,
I heard a cock crow.

I lit on an oak tree.
Heart beat in my chest.
My wings were still feeble,
I needed a rest.
The finch stopped his rondo.
I swelled up with pride,
My song became solo.
I sang for my bride.

Each chirrup and cadence,
Melodious phrase,
Expanded to warm me.
Oh joy of my days!
I sang sweet deler'ums
From my prominent perch,
The hawk found it easy
To narrow his search.

No other bird sang
As the shadow passed o'er
I thought them entranced
By my glorious score
The shock of the snatch
Took my last notes away
My freedom was lost
On that marvelous day.

Would I hop through the window
And sing in the tree,
Knowing the perils there are for the free?
My answer, at once, from my beak opened wide,
At least I knew joy at the moment I died.

This is actually the eyes of an Eagle Owl, photographed at
a recent country show, but I couldn't resist using it to illustrate this verse.

Friday, 3 October 2008

Don't We Just Adore Blind Faith?

Don't we just adore blind faith?

Green Beetle

Cryptocephalus hides his head
Not in the sand, nor in his bed,
Instead it's there for all to see
Metallic green on Hazel tree.

He has no shoulders nor a neck,
So birds don't know which end to peck,
Like debris from a welding spree
Metallic green on Hazel tree.

Once forged by fairy farrier
He shuns the aurucaria.
Prefers to nibble tenderly,
Metallic green on Hazel tree.

Deep within the dusty vault
A scarab beetle dry as salt
Wishes he could one day be
Metallic green on Hazel tree.

Cryptocephalus hides his head
Behind a name that's seldom said
Which hardly brings to mind for me,
Metallic green on Hazel tree.
(Penned 1st September 2008)

Thursday, 2 October 2008

In The Beginning

In the Beginning

When Mavis began creating,
She was a shapeless, chaotic mass.
Thoughts perished between her synapses,
Mid birth.

"Let there be light," she said.
Separating the light from the darkness,
She made something to see,
The Earth.

And she saw that although is was shapeless and chaotic,
She was part of it, and reflected in it.
Communicating with it -
What mirth!