“Aye, me maties, ‘tis a stormy sea dis day
Shiver me timbers, let’s make way for da bay”
But as Peg Leg Pete slowly turned ’is ship ‘round
A great beauty on da rocks was t' be found
“We’ll save ye, lassie,” 'e cried t' da girl
Once rescued, 'e took ‘er below fer a whirl
Crew listened as Pete’s peg on da ship’s hull beat
All steamed ‘twas da cabin, a-swirl in da heat
“Argh, men, let’s show ‘im,” grunted one jealous mate
Months asea dey’d sailed wit nary one date
So when Pete thumped ‘is way back t' da deck
'e found himself aboard a sinking wreck
“Blasted mutiny,” Pete screamed, den caught sight
O' da rum-soaked crew a-rowin’ in dim light
Aboard thar rowboat ‘twas Pete’s prized treasure chest
‘is ire was raised, as ye might 'ave guessed
Seeing Polly Parrot had left da ship too
‘Tis a lesson in dis, a sad one but true
Pirates who choose t' make love t' a beauty
Oft’ find thar mates abscond wit thar looty
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
One day not long past our economy faltered
And wouldn’t improve if our course were unaltered.
'Cause we buy stuff at Wal-Mart (where things are dirt cheap)
'Cause they buy from China (treats workers like sheep
(So farmers left farms and moved to the city.
And hoped for life better (no luck, such a pity) )).
They went right to work (but folks who had power
got 'em to work for six bits an hour).
To make matters worse our credit froze up.
Couldn't spend - couldn't borrow - couldn't buy a tin cup.
You think this is bad? It's downhill from there.
Institutions cried "uncle" - said cupboards were bare.
Couldn't borrow, couldn't lend, no business as usual.
So they opened their books to wide-eyed perusal.
Our Treasury Secretary called Congress to action.
Said money was needed to unfreeze this impaction.
So they gave loads of money to our secretary mighty
Who they said was quite stern and not the least flighty.
He'd disburse the funds wisely with skill and great cunning.
He'd soon save us all with our economy running
Full tilt dead ahead. We'd all have great jobs.
Or funds to build business. No more wailing. No sobs.
But he hadn’t a plan, no clue what to do.is
Gasp! I’m shocked! I’m surprised! Weren’t you?
"The problem's bad assets. I know what to do.
Throw billions to the wind to buy them from you!
It's a crisis, a panic, no time to lose!
So give me 300 billion dollars to use!"
Congress quick cut a check - didn’t ask any questions.
Full speed ahead - damn the objections!
Then five minutes later, he said. "Sorry, my bad.
Sky's ok after all. Billions gone. So sad."
Next thing you know ’nother check's in the mail.
Now they thought lenders were too big to fail
So they gave them our billions and tried to act manly:
While sheepishly mincingly bailing out Morgan Stanley!
Money still wasn’t flowing so they tried a new tack.
Gave money to banks they needn’t pay back!
And what of the money they’d gotten for free?
They’d loan me the money they’d gotten from me!
The banks got a downpour but oh life is fickle.
While they bathe in money – for me? Not a trickle.
Then came execs who'd wrecked A-I-G
They wept and they pleaded and cried, "Please save meeee!"
Fannie Mae queued up next just before Freddie Mac
Who lent money to people who couldn't pay back.
Congress gasped (so we'd notice) and then cried "Enough!"
To make it look good they called Lehman a bluff:
Sacrificially beheaded poor Lehman Brothers.
They gave them no money (unlike all the others)
But kept spending funds like water that's runny
With glee and abandon, disposition so sunny.
Through Fingers of Congress funds flowed like warm honey.
'Round town it got spent like Monopoly money.
"A billion here and a billion there and soon it's real money!"
I laughed once before but now it's not funny.
I’m sure I would spend it way better then you.
A deaf ear I'd turn to pleas of "me too".
I can't hear the cries the wails the shouts
The So Helpless pleadinghim beseeching handouts
And we're still on the hook for money by tons,
A stack past the moon if you use only ones!
How much do we owe? Lean close and I'll tell you.
It’s the biggest darn number that ever befell you.
It's 3.5x10 to the twelf –
A number so huge I can't count it myself.
So I worked with my neighbors and friends that I knew.
We'd just about finished when it quivered and grew.
We bravely pressed on but got worried because
It grew to a monster ten times what it was.
It far, far exceeds all the debt on my house.
Makes my debt seem much smaller than a flea on a mouse.
So here's what I owe, scientifically noted.
(No interest – it's merely the loan the bank floated)
It's 1.2x10 to the fifth.
If you say it's a trifle I'll really be miffed!
To me it's a fortune, a mountain, a gob.
It's enormous, it's huge – a train-wreck-size glob.
But to you with your trillions it barely rates mention
A blip even smaller than my crummy old pension.
I'll make a comparison to give some perspective.
Divide smaller by bigger – a percent’s the objective.
The quotient is less than the least you might fine us:
Just 3.4x10 to the eighth minus!
That's 3.4 millionths expressed as percent
If you lost that amount would you care where it went?
If it fell from the table it wouldn't be missed.
Only know it was gone if you looked at your list.
Compared to the bailout and financial-type terror
My mortgage amounts to a small rounding error.
The amount is so small, a grain you can't see.
How much could hurt if it came back to me?
But accountants all say it would just cause inflation.
They say if I had it I could harm our whole nation!
Imagine that. Me! Oh the power I've got!
So just you tell me: should I use it? Or not?
The problems roll on and Congress still spends.
Ford, G-MAC, and Chrysler - the list never ends.
I want to flee far away when I consider this bailout.
Catch the next boat, settle in, and just sail out.
I’d find me a country where companies are smarter
And don't need my help like a belt needs a garter.
Whoops, I forgot. It spans the whole world.
It catches each breeze like a sail unfurled.
So I fret and I grimace - it’s now up to trillions.
How long can it be ’til they’re spending quadrillions?!
Copyright © John Mudge | Year Posted 2016
Not so long ago your heart was irreparably broken
You didn’t want to hear his name spoken
Your misery was so all-consuming -
And you were full of dooming and glooming -
That the threat of self-harm was bandied about
Just for attention, of that I have no doubt.
Yet here we are just a few weeks down the line
It seems to me that you’re doing perfectly fine
Professing yet more undying adoration
To the object of your latest infatuation.
I’ll give it a couple of months at best
Until he works out that you’re an unbearable pest
And like those before him (me included)
He’ll realise that you are emotionally deluded
He won’t want you clinging on like a limpet
He’ll be wanting, quickly as possible, to forget
That had the misfortune to learn your name
And became embroiled in your sick game
Because a stupid game is all it is to you
It’s the way you work; it’s what you do.
You create drama in your sad and empty life
And engineer all the stress and strife
To garner all the sympathy you can get
Whilst painting him as the worst one yet
Oh, the pain, the hurt the misery!
It wasn't how it was supposed to be...
Until the next unsuspecting guy comes into view
To be zeroed-in on by predatory you.
Then the whole charade will start again once more
But your game is tiresome and you’re a bore.
There’s a chance that one day the tide will turn
And that you will finally come to learn
That love and relationships are a two-way street
And that you will somehow, someday meet
Someone who will refuse to play by your twisted rules
Just to end up on your List of Fools.
To see beyond your artifice and manipulations
And develop for you true and strong emotions
It may come to pass, who can tell
Meanwhile you’ll put through hell.
Your latest beau has yet to experience
The depth and extent of your malevolence
When you take umbrage at an imagined slight
And manufacture yet another fight.
It’s not down to me to save him from his fate
Besides it’s probably already too late
But, what the heck, he’s made his bed
He’s believed everything you said.
You’ve dug your claws in, good and fast
Which guarantees that this relationship will not last!
Copyright © Andy Morfett | Year Posted 2016
ballad to spring.
For little robin, red breast,
On my spade, you sit.
With bobbing head, and twitch of tail,
As another season now say's farewell.
In the bracing chill skip, sprightly,
On this sun-drenched day.
Look up towards the heavens,
And be thankful come what may.
The coming days grow longer,
With life refreshed anew.
As flecks of white and purple,
Permeate among the dew.
Erupting upward shards of green,
With heads in saffron gold,
A multitude of trumpets play,
Herald forth as spring unfolds.
Under tip of twig now freshly dipped
In a cornucopia of greens.
In waives that crest, where bluebells rest,
And one can sit and dream.
For nothing say's that spring is here,
More than posies clutched, and garlands fare.
A chick, an egg, and the mad march hare,
The wild of youth without a care.
© N Windle 20017
Copyright © nicholas windle | Year Posted 2017