Garden Talk

The garden has so many visitors….how can you not talk to them?

TPOTG Old Man Talking to Birds

My garden’s a haven for visitors,
Uncaged and always free to roam,
Bringing me such beauty and colour,
I’m so lucky when they share my home.

I know they haven’t come to see me,
They come for the bounty that’s here on hand,
I can forgive them, then, when they ignore me,
For why they’re here I do understand.

Still I like to give them all greetings,
The polite thing to do, don’t you think?
As I watch them busily feeding,
Or taking a bath, or having a drink.

I have conversations with butterflies,
And daily I have long talks with bees,
And I chat away constantly with the birds,
Who chat back, perched up in their trees.

And, naturally, I talk to my plants,
Encouraging them all to grow,
Because of my plants my visitors visit,
And without them they’d surely all go.

So if you’re passing by Stone Cottage,
See an old man speaking to no one at all,
He’ll just be in conversation with his plants,
Or with the visitors who have come to call.

May 2020

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The Lawnmower Bird

Is it a lawnmower or is it a bird…….?

TPOTG Lawnmower Frame 01

In Bedford’s quiet streets
Can often be heard
The whirr, whirr, whirring
Of the lawnmower bird.
A solitary creature,
It moves around on its own,
Eating away
At the grass that has grown,
Especially after the rain
Has awakened tired roots
And fed them with nutrients
To produce new green shoots.

Never at night
Will you hear this bird stirring,
As it rests in its shelter,
Tired out from its whirring.
And not every day
Does this strange bird appear,
And during the winter
The sightings are rare.

Its plumage favours green,
Although sometimes it’s red,
And black ones are seen,
So I’ve heard it said.
Some leave a smell,
While others trail a cord,
Usually accompanied by a man
Who appears to be bored.

So there you have it,
There’s no more to tell
About the lawnmower birds
That in Bedford do dwell.

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Writers Block

Listen, if it can happen to the best of writers…

TPOTG Becalmed Frame 01

Becalmed By Neil Hamelin

I am becalmed,
I cannot write,
I feel no wind,
No ships in sight.
When words come,
It is a blessing,
But when they don’t
It’s so distressing.
Just need to relax,
Keep my sails steady,
And when the breeze comes
With my pen I’ll be ready.

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Why is the K Always Silent? – I Don’t K-now

Some couples can never find interesting things to talk about, not us, we talk about the silence of the k’s…..

TPOTG Silent K Words 01

We were sitting around aimlessly talking last night,
The second glass of wine was tasting so good,
Just chatting about the quirks of our language,
You know, in the way that old couples should.

Now we all know that the English language
Is such an incredibly hard language to learn,
But last night, as we poured our third glass of wine,
We had only one pressing concern.

We asked ourselves why the k before an n
Is always kept silent, not usually heard.
And as we discussed this a conclusion was reached,
The English language was simply absurd.

On a silent night our silent knight,
Silently around the castle grounds walks.
And on silent nights they talk about our silent knight,
Saying he’s the knight who at night never talks.

But then is it night-night, that we say to our kids,
As off to bed they sleepily go?
Or is it knight-knight, or maybe night-knight?
It’s something we surely should know.

Which takes us to need, or maybe it’s knead?
Depends upon what you are doing;
Because if you need to knead the dough my friend,
A career as a baker you should be pursuing.

A knots not a knot if it’s not tied right,
As soon it will become undone.
But now how do you know that it is not the right knot?
This language game really is fun.

And if you knew it was new, then you couldn’t say
That you knew it was old, that’s a lie;
But what then if you knew that the new knot was not new,
What a tangle we’d have to untie.

The knell sounds for Nell, she was still in her prime,
Discovered a nit in her knitting and died.
Been out shopping that day, bought new knickers for a nicker,
But the knot in her new knickers won’t now ever be tied.

Now what about not knowing knowledge about a ledge?
No, surely that be must be a useful thing to know,
As armed with the knowledge that there was no ledge
Out of the window you just wouldn’t go!

We’re thinking of starting a world-wide campaign,
That the K should once again be spoken,
A knotty problem is it not, we know some will say no;
Perhaps another bottle of wine we should open!

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Voice Robots

“Your call is important to us; please stay on the line until it is no longer important to you!”

Talking to voice robots is taking over so fast,
As personal service becomes a thing of the past.
“It’s to improve customer service” – are they being funny?
Answering systems are installed just to save money.

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“The system will help us to redirect your call”
That is such a big lie for which we all fall.
Can’t think of anything that gets more on my nerves
Than the endless menu of options a robot serves.

“Sales or service? Enter your customer code.
Sorry, not recognised, you need to re-load”
You navigate that maze and then what do they do?
Tell you your call is now being held in queue!

“Don’t hang up”, says the robot, “your call is important”,
To not giving a damn, what an endorsement.
If your call meant so much, then surely they’d choose
To personalise their service and those robots just loose.

At last a human voice might eventually appear,
By which time the phone’s become a part of your ear,
And you’ve a headache, you’re stressed and feeling quite rotten,
And the reason for phoning you’ve completely forgotten.

And as robot services are not actually customer driven,
A name or direct number you’ll never be given,
So if you need to call back, you’ll have to start all over again;
Communicating via robots will drive you insane!

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Breakfast With A View

Perhaps getting up every morning at sparrows fart, just so you can sit in seemingly endless queues of traffic isn’t the best way to start your day after all……..

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Imagine starting each day
In the way that we do,
Breakfast on a stoep
A great mountain view;
Sitting there chatting,
No need to be rushed,
The smell of fresh coffee,
As the plunger is pushed.
Fresh creamy yoghurt,
Nice and thick, not too runny
And drizzled all over,
With local raw honey.
Eggs sometimes scrambled,
As the routine gets changed,
With tomatoes and bacon
For the yoghurt exchanged.
Our day being planned,
Or then again not,
Discussing the weather,
Is it going to be hot?
Watching orioles and drongos
At the fountain drinking,
Planning garden improvements,
Gets the grey matter thinking.
Just chilling out
Before the day has begun,
As we sit on our stoep feeling
Life’s jackpot’s been won.

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You’re Watching Sky News

The quality of the vast majority of corporate mainstream media reporting is both disgraceful and disturbing. Often acting as an insult to the collective intelligence, the corporate mainstream media succeed in stupefying countless millions with their daily doses of uninformed, often inflammatory, ideologically driven propaganda,opinions and views, masquerading as “news”. In particular Sky News, with their smug arrogance and often complete misrepresentation, or just plain ignorance, of facts makes me so angry I can no longer watch.

It’s 6 o’clock,
Thank you for tuning in,
Our latest session of indoctrination
Is about to begin,
Another dose of propaganda,
Of our opinion and views;
We’re dumbing you down,
You’re watching Sky News.

Each report is a crisis,
It’s just how we present,
If there isn’t any crisis
We’ll find one to invent,
We’ll whip up panic and fear,
If that’s what we choose;
We’re dumbing you down,
You’re watching Sky News.

Our team of ultracrepidarians
Are used everywhere,
With little or no knowledge,
We really don’t care,
A stream of journalistic porn,
Designed to mislead and bemuse;
We’re dumbing you down,
You’re watching Sky News.

Everything is “unprecedented”
How we just love that word,
We use it in a context
That is totally absurd;
Thrown in with video footage
That’s edited to confuse,
We’re dumbing you down,
You’re watching Sky News.

With the utter climate nonsense
Our whole team is infected,
And if anyone dares disagree
We say the “far right” is suspected,
But after all it’s our choice
If your intelligence we abuse;
We’re dumbing you down,
You’re watching Sky News.  

We may not promote misinformation,
It’s just that our “news” is not always “real”,
But as we hold the moral high ground,
So we can say what we feel,
We know that critical thinking
Is not what our viewers use,
So we’ll just keep dumbing them down;
Thanks for watching Sky News! 

A Snooze or a Brew….Which is Best?

Perhaps the top of the hill is the best place to be?

tpotg-over-the-hill-01-frame-and-text

I’m over the hill now,
Soon I should be picking up speed,
But a life somewhat faster
Is not something I need.
Most things are still working,
Have my own teeth, my own hair,
And at a finely turned ankle
I still like to stare.

I should really be grateful,
There’s no need to complain,
Old age has its benefits,
There’s so much that you gain;
If you sit there a minute,
Then I’ll write you a list;
But … perhaps a little snooze first,
They’re so hard to resist!

OK…. I’m back again,
Just a short power nap,
Too much thinking these days
Makes the energy sap;
Now something about a list?
First …. give me a minute or two,
I think I’ll just put the kettle on,
It must be time for a brew!

OK that’s better!
Now what were we saying?
(Memory’s not at its best,
At the edges it’s fraying.)
You were going to give me a list
Of what I would need
If I wanted to go faster,
If I wanted to speed?

No…. that won’t be necessary,
This slow life is fine,
I’ve found the top of the hill
To be a good finishing line;
So I think I’ll just stay here,
Not go over the crest.
Now …. a snooze or a brew?
Which do you think is best?

 

One Day As A Tiger

The world is full of sheep.

TPOTG Tiger Frame 01

Better one day as a tiger
Than a hundred years as a sheep;
A promise I made
That I try keep.
True to myself,
Not following the crowd;
An independence of thought,
Of which I am proud.

Our freedom of speech
Is under attack,
Our own fault really,
Reflects the courage we lack.
Hard earned freedoms
Simply being taken away,
Be careful what you think,
Be careful what you say.

From history we should learn,
But not anymore;
The lessons of history
We choose to ignore.
Less well informed,
But with more information,
There’s no power in knowledge
For this generation.

I’m probably being targeted
In my poet’s role;
Not conforming to the narrative,
Not under control.
With my freedom of speech
Not politically corrected,
On the government’s radar
I’ll soon be detected.

They might try to isolate me
For the things that I write,
But I won’t be intimidated,
I won’t give up my fight.
Not an activist really,
Just exercising free thought,
In mainstream media’s web
I refuse to be caught.

Say what they want to hear,
Don’t dare speak the truth,
Don’t argue their reasoning,
Don’t dare ask for proof.
Free thought and opinions
A threat to the nation.
However did we end up
In this sad situation?

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My London Days

 

Time for a bit of personal nostalgia…..

It seems so long ago now when I used to traverse,
London’s famed streets, in elegant offices converse
With those revered professionals, who challenged my mind,
Sharing a respect for each other, ethics of a similar kind.
When my decisions, my actions, influenced a business’s fate,
With thousands of employees, a truly burdensome weight.

On the corner where St James’s and Jermyn Streets collide,
34 above the door, Piccadilly just a short stride,
At that prestigious location, as part of a professional team,
My opinions carried weight, I was held in esteem;
And over 8 challenging years, as my influence grew,
The City’s leading lights became the people I knew.

So much younger than my peers, sometimes known as “The Boy”,
A term of endearment that I came to enjoy,
Still in my early thirties, the youngest ever Board member,
I hope my skills, not my age, is what people remember.
An amazing time, before life took another direction;
I look back on those days with such pride and affection.

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