This thread has so many bad rhymes,
Cos its full of unheard homonyms,
They make such a noise
There isn't much choice,
And I'll join here with something that chimes
A thread for odes - please add yours
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By the shore of Canvey Island
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
At the milking parlour doorway,
In the pleasant Summer morning,
We all stood and waited.
All the air was full of freshness,
All the earth was bright and joyous,
And before us, through the sunshine,
Westward toward the neighboring forest
Passed in golden swarms the Gammas,
Buzzing like bees, the honey-makers,
Burning, singing in the sunshine.
Bright above them shone the heavens,
Many trod this path before us;
Tho' its way is full of snares
Sparkles flashing in darkness
Lead us through the darksome trees
As fog lifts off the heavy water,
And the mist from off the bench.Something in the hazy distance,
Comes nearer, nearer, nearer.
With a smile of joy and triumph,
We See what heeds to be, but is not,It's not the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah
Or the white goose, Waw-be-wawa,
It is the fusion-bird Elly-EnnarOn his wings of polished steel
Bright like sunshine after rainfall
Strong like thunder in the night
Will he land or will he circle?
We hope he stays to bring us light.
With apologies to Longfellow.
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Great! Sounds like you, Russ and Martin are seeing good results again. Hope Elly-Ennar lands, and stays for good this time.
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Who would turn down a day trip to Essex?
Land of armed robbers & white stilettos,
He probably means no disrespects,
It’s just that the outcome, he already knows.
It can’t work! Of that, he has no doubt,
So Oyster card will remain unused,
He is ‘busy’, of course - but just don’t count,
All his posts that daft Rossi thread has accrued!
Worried his skeptical schema will be challenged?
I’m not sure... But it don’t matter, if so,
As I’m just trying to rhyme the word ‘unbalanced’,
For reasons Mats Lewan surely knows.
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Tiny glass spheres lighter then air
Float to the heavens completely unaware
they can reach a height we're all balloons fail
All full of fuel gasses like hail
bursting to life furious as hell
The void now seeks the air from below
rushing in to occupy trash cans galore
Now need to claim what was once yours
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Strange radiation runs through my thoughts,
Putting hope back into our hearts,
Etching its way through mica and glass,
Into universal acceptance it soon will pass,
Providing a tool to tame Heaven and Earth,
Providing warmth to every home and hearth.
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One Gray Day
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Glad you are back!
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It extends the purchase of thought and folds upon itself a tapestry of perceptions.
By day it will acknowledge and by night deny.
A preamble colors the intention but will not expose its purpose.
Many will dither its merits of magnitude yet minimize the spectrum of possibilities.
We who wait for proof find a ledger and tally our patience as currency.
Elusive in our very faces.
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There once was an R'Ster called Rossi
Who talked late at night drinking coffee
With Italian profs
And American toffs
and people whose names sound like Mathee.
(A historically evidenced ode)
Who
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Star Trek Bohemian Rhapsody
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in anomaly
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a star boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
Little high, little low
Anyway the stars blow, doesn't really matter to me, to me
Mama, just killed a man
Put a phasor to his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, trek had just begun
But now I've gotta watch it all again
Mama, ooo
Didn't mean to make you cry
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters
Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye everybody I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Starfleet, ooo (anyway the stars blow)
I don't want to die
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all
I see a little silhouetto of a ship
shuttlecraft, shuttlecraft will you ride the damned lightning
Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo's good to go - Come on let's go
But I'm just a star boy and no Klingon loves me
He's just a star boy from an earth family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come easy go will you let me go
He's Dead Jim! No! They will not let you go - let him go
Heghpu' Jim! We will not let you go - let him go
He's Dead Jim! Klingons cannot let you go let me go
Will not let you go let me go (never)
Never let you go let me go
Never let me go ooo
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
Oh Beam me Scotty, beam me Scotty, beam me Scotty let me go
The Enterprise has a shuttle put aside for me
For me
For me
So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye
So you think you can try me and leave me to die
Oh qab ghu can't do this to me Qlp qoH
Just gotta get out just teleport right outta here
Oh yeah, ooh yeah
Weapon set to anti-matter
Anyone can see
The nothing I left in tatters, nothing really matters, you see
Anyway, the stars know
https://disqus.com/home/channe…r_trek_bohemian_rhapsody/
https://disqus.com/home/channe…ar_trek_theme_had_lyrics/
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The UK Poet Laureate- blending the tale of Eyam village which locked itself down during the great plague and a Sanskrit allegory.
Lockdown by Simon Armitage
And I couldn’t escape the waking dream
of infected fleas
in the warp and weft of soggy cloth
by the tailor’s hearth
in ye olde Eyam.
Then couldn’t un-see
the Boundary Stone,
that cock-eyed dice with its six dark holes,
thimbles brimming with vinegar wine
purging the plagued coins.
Which brought to mind the sorry story
of Emmott Syddall and Rowland Torre,
star-crossed lovers on either side
of the quarantine line
whose wordless courtship spanned the river
till she came no longer.
But slept again,
and dreamt this time
of the exiled yaksha sending word
to his lost wife on a passing cloud,
a cloud that followed an earthly map
of camel trails and cattle tracks,
streams like necklaces,
fan-tailed peacocks, painted elephants,
embroidered bedspreads
of meadows and hedges,
bamboo forests and snow-hatted peaks,
waterfalls, creeks,
the hieroglyphs of wide-winged cranes
and the glistening lotus flower after rain,
the air hypnotically see-through, rare,
the journey a ponderous one at times, long and slow
but necessarily so.
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When your mind rotates in 4D,
But your tongue rotates in five,
A theory of everything, except predictions,
Stuck fast on his hard drive.
Every opinion is served with gusto,
With a side portion of condescension,
By now everybody must know,
Proud conceit is often just pretention.
The standard model is a lie!
Yet is still taught by the cream of the crop,
Though I doubt one can truly learn anything,
When your every sentence ends with a full stop.
Haunted by mafias,
and dilettante-d by fact-checkers!
Reckons big pharma are the criminals,
whilst he deals unlicensed worming pills!
'Falsification ain't my butter bread',
a competent theorist has never said!
Edited to remove unfortunate comparisons -too political. Alan.
Why won't the joker post some links?
'cept the argument, what's to lose?
But let's not break Godwin's law again,
And just note that he hates "peer-reviews".
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Simple Electric Bicycle
Ah the joy to push, push the electrons in muscles from foot to pedal, matte black frame of alloy'd metal.
Moving on one wheelie won't last long and our leg nerves started to sing a song.
But this amazing bike has got two tricks up it's sleeves,
A motor and a battery speeding through dust and the leaves.
Weaving through woods and down rows of gold grain, a way to slip home through all the sudden rain.
Cool water in throat and the sun in my eyes, let's press throttle to the skies.
From twelve to twenty-eight all the way to 47, kph, speeding time in electric heaven.
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In the land of the conspiracy theorist,
The None-eyed man is truly King,
‘I want to go on Facebook’ he admits,
‘But I don't, ‘coz I cant read a damn thing!’
He’s never gotten so alarmed, that his offspring were harmed,
By the lies of a stucken-off doctor,
He's never embarrassed himself, with claims of 5G-based ill health,
Or beaten a Vodaphone contractor.
He's never seen a MAGA hat, nor a mullet,
Nevermind read about the sex crimes of Bill Gates,
Thinks Q is what happens at the bus stop,
Not some CIA agent that a troll impersonates.
He’s never questioned the Sandy Hook death toll,
Nor ranted about his latest World Trade Center clue,
Or spent too many late nights clicking down dark rabbit holes,
Absorbing the Complete Works Of The G.R.U.
Putin’s bot farms post lies, to degrade a society from inside,
Ushering in the age of Post-Truth,
And useful idiots click “like”, multiplying their strike,
No bunker protects the voting booth.
They even stopped trying to disguise, their firehose of lies,
No longer just spreading the cancer of doubt,
It’s become a powerful tool, that autocrats use,
Meant to disempower those who would hold them to account,
Its just a simple power play, because what can ya honestly say,
When constantly gaslit through a sippy-cup pout?
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Display More
In the land of the conspiracy theorist,
The None-eyed man is truly King,
‘I want to go on Facebook’ he admits,
‘But I don't, ‘coz I cant read a damn thing!’
He’s never been so alarmed, that his offspring got harmed,
By the nonsense of a stucken-off doctor,
He's never embarrassed himself, with claims of 5G-based ill health,
Or beaten a mobile network contractor.
He's never seen a MAGA hat, nor a mullet,
Nevermind read about the sex crimes of Bill Gates,
Thinks Q is what happens at the bus stop,
Not some CIA agent that a troll impersonates.
He’s never questioned the Sandy Hook death toll,
Nor ranted about his latest World Trade Center clue,
Or spent too many late nights clicking down dark rabbit holes,
Absorbing the Complete Works Of The G.R.U.
Putin’s bot farms post lies, meant to degrade society from inside,
Ushering in the age of Post-Truth,
And useful idiots click “like”, multiplying their strike,
No bunker protects the voting booth.
They even stopped trying to disguise, their firehose of lies,
No longer just spreading the cancer of doubt,
It’s become powerful tool, that autocrats use,
Meant to disempower those who would hold them to account,
Its just a simple power play, because what can ya honestly say,
When regularly gaslit through a sippy-cup pout?
slow motion clap.
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The path to success:
Test, fail, test, fail, test again.
Each gets you closer.
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This is not an ode...but it's my kind of piano playing.
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