As the flowing river runs toward the sea,
Like the London Eye gazing upon the Thames,
My eternal love simply flows away.
Even in the moment we hold hands,
Looking into each other's eyes,
And whisper our love,
As the Thames flows beneath the London Bridge,
My love, too, simply flows away like that.
My love also vanishes
Into an unknown, fleeting mist,
And the chimes of Big Ben echo through the fog,
Leaving only tears to flow within my memories.
My love was the wave of my eternal sea,
Crying out toward you.
Oh, thou chimes echoing through the mist,
Toll for me!
My love still remains with you.
Oh, thou darkness within the mist,
Come to me!
Carrying my tears upon the River Thames,
I shall offer my love to you,
For someday, my love
Will come before the London Eye.
O fierce wind, that seems to shake
A thousand years of time!
Come to me.
O my light, that seems to pierce
Through the clouds of the vast sky!
On the day you come to my side,
For your sake,
I shall become the chimes of Big Ben!
Freely admit am more than a bit of a Test cricket junkie
VIP pass doff for punky class of Bazball’s start so spunky
Revel in rocking devil may care peacocking flair so funky
But when stuttered became rather cluttered and clunky
Then Ben not with his men again is still a cheeky monkey
Iffy getting squiffy forgot curfew & in a jiffy all got gunky
Palaver in a lather farce of toff ECB job & gob of slob Key
Smelt wrong the pong not dope has felt old school skunky
Hunky stallion did quaff the trough now rapscallion donkey
Scoff not bob on plunky fob off dob em in for being a flunky
Got a cob on Baz a show off ar*e & Rob chubby and chunky
Sob should burn on the hob as each other’s jail bit*h bunkie
Turn the door k*ob in lob Baz & Bob then Ben lose the key
So will Ben be back to lead his men?
Stacks of hacks chiding with their pen
Question all asking time & time again!
Key and Baz hiding in their ECB den
Riled echo chamber dialled up to ten
Let us know and if not now then when!
Fall of Bazball no longer a verdant glen
Now bogged down in a waterlogged fen
Astounds as Baz all about pounds or yen
Folks a coup by you know who should ken
Stokes came first not the egg but’s the hen
Spicier than wasabi with his kemosabe zen
ECB on their tod as it all crumbles yet again
So odd sod the fans & their God called Ben
If is the end than ECB to hell we send Amen
History is just a succession of not great men
What sages for ages on pages did spot & pen
Confession get the impression are right again
Mystery as why don't all ken the dragons den
Gist Don & Ben zealots plots with Zionist zen
When ratchet the hate up to ten they say amen
Lost in mist narcissist tryst of the fist now & then
isn't easy
because I talk about nothing
all the time.
It is late March and I love
everything I see
around me:
blooming trees
that I don't know
but appreciate
one color at a time,
bees that are busy and
industrious, sunsets that
are never identical and always
worth ogling over,
as well as
the bare buds
of creativity and song.
That was a mouthful
of a stanza
that I hope
you swallowed down
as smooth as a lozenge.
I tried not to embarrass
my cool kid.
I tried not
to get excited
about the birds
in the trees
who could care less
about golf, and scores,
and fancy pants, and awkward
golf carts.
I made it five minutes.
Then, I asked Ben:
"Did you hear
the goldfinch."
Immediate
embarrassment
ensued.
I learned my lesson
and went back
to my golf cart
to continue drawing
the goddess of war
because I admire
strong women
who face battle
when it counts.
They are the women
who don't shut up.
What went wrong?
Why the fury
And tempestuous storm
The destruction
And watery death
A watery calamitous agent
What was it for?
Born and Unborn babies
Great Generals
With potential destinies
Flooded out hurriedly
Technological advancement
Could not apprehend your design
Typhoon Ben
You Succeeded
Men were carried
Like leaves on water
Houses were swept
Like pebbles on a floor
Your watery muscles
Wreaked Pains
Involved groans
On the populace
In a split second
I thought I saw you grin
Why the grin
You need recognition
A notorious one
Like a wave
You came
And returned
Typhoon Ben
What went wrong?
Why the fury
And tempestuous storm
The destruction
And watery death
Typhoon Ben
Dare to dream Ashes nightmares it seems reawoken
Token words spoken after scares & flares teams broken
Dafter peacocking then rocking no blocking just shocking
Mocking laughter of the ghost of Christmas future knocking
Host boast from coast to coast toast as England roast
Boiling..recoiling..toiling & broiling this is our last post
Our iridescent flaming proper copper haired laird
Incandescent flairs no taming his despairs we all shared
Luminescent cares blaming Bazball heirs ill prepared scared
Stoic brawler our defiant mauler on a leaking reeking trawler
Too reliant on our brilliant defiant resilient glowering giant
Big Ben set up camp crippled by his men again & ripples of cramp
Overpowering pain courses through every vein towering skipper & champ
Heart on his sleeve…makes us believe in a reprieve heroic Firestarter
Immensity of intensity.. O Captain my Captain..our smarter martyr
Every city has her peculiar charm.
London has her peculiar chime.
It’s proudly owned
By a tall, fragile, splendid house
Where Time rented a space.
It speaks with the tone of a clock
And with the audacity of an imperious tower,
Blending flying, fleeting bits of seconds
With the austere stroke of twelve
To lend London its uniquely powerful voice.
Fourteen minutes from Independence Hall
You'll find Hell on Kensington Street
Its a zombie apocalypse, American fall
The worst decay you'll ever meet.
People inject each other with heroin and tranq.
You wonder how the survival instinct warps
Ben Shapiro went there, and his heart sank
He described each loser as a living corpse
He was aghast, he saw people without feet
Rotted away because of the tranq they ingest
Festering bodies, was this once a stately street?
Our founders pledged sacred honor, but did they fail this test?
Prostitutes fill the streets by kids walking to school
The kids walk by the dead, by addicts shooting a last vein
Anyone who advocated for this would be a fool
But we elected one as mayor, isn't that insane?
The DSA platform once said all drugs should legalize
I hope Mamdani gave this up now
But whores on your doorstep, he'll give that prize
Does he know what he's doing, what this will allow?
Plenty of people stoned in New York
But more chaos can be made, does anyone care?
Genie out of the bottle, can't find the cork
Remember Kensington Street, Philadelphia, and despair.
There was a young man who knew when
yet likes the sound of the name Big Ben
with a certain ring to it which appeals
as a bell it will sell well he feels
and the knell wake the dead once again
When asked, 'If the orchestra conductor
had made an effort more concerted
not to miss the concert
and a sordid scene averted,
would he have been less disconcerted?'
"Don’t ask me, I’m only the drummer,"
replied I in chagrin.
And, altho' the name of my favourite band
is the one I am currently in,
I do like the sound of the moniker, 'Big Ben,'
it's music to my ears and have to admit,
it has a certain ring to it."
As it appeals one feels it would sell well as a bell
(at fifteen point one short tons)
and wake everyone with its loud knell.
there was a young banty rooster named Ben
who liked to hit on all of the old hens
one sad summer day it was said
an axe was taken to his head
now all the old hens are safe in their pen
Big Ben chimes again
With Bazball zen
One of those men
From special stock
Shepherd of the flock
Hewn from strewn Volcanic rock
From New Zealand's Southern Isle
But only there for a wee while
Mighty flame haired flair laird
Without doubt more about Blighty's North East
They forged this bellicose beast
Ripsnorting sporting cavorting squire
Glutton & gourmand gorged feast
Test town crier
Puffed buffed chest
Inspire..burning
Proper copper topper
Churning fire..
Endless zest..desire
No dull lull
No bore draw
Simple...aspire
To score more!
It's not arcane
Stokes campaign & reign
Train like you're insane
Always entertain!
Remember us flounder
In the gutter
Trounced...17 on the bounce
Could we have found
Pound for pounder
Better all rounder
Nutter...go getter
Sounder founder
Run rate record setter
Of the evolution
And revolution
Of Test cricket
Toe to toe
Blow by blow
Heave ho
Give us a ticket
In the Baz ball or
Ben buzz grotto
Gung Ho motto
You will never know
Till you give it a go!
Ben and Jerry each one of both of them is dumper than the other
Ben and Jerry dump and dumper one of them call the other a sir
Ben the bull was gentlemanly and debonair
He had a unique personality, he filled the air
The others in the barnyard got out of his way
He marched though the fences, big and gay
With his blue silk scarf from the farmer’s wife
And his fancy patchwork jacket, he had a good life
He wore a fashionable rip in one leg of his jeans
His diet was not like the others, he had fancy beans.
Why is he treated better than all of us? Asked a chick.
His rooster father tried to shush this observant hick.
No one talked about it but this is the USA
Where the biggest bullies now get ahead these days.
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