Best Practising Poems
I, The Clone
So that I would not live alone,
My parents thought I should be a clone.
They cloned at first two then four,
Then they cloned just four more.
Being the first parents in the nation
Practising exponential regeneration
They tried again to double the brood
Using methods not fully understood.
Breeding at this prodigious rate
I soon numbered two thousand and forty eight.
And, allowing for those not now alive,
Next became four thousand and sixty five.
So I continued to expand,
Filling up towns throughout the land,
And, some years after the age of consent
Held all the seats in Parliament.
And so it’s easy now to see
How I became my own M.P.
When I numbered six million and forty two,
I was army, navy and air force too.
At ten billion three hundred and twenty eight,
I became head of every state,
And, depending on my point of view
Deposed myself with war and coup.
So by accident or by intent
Became first global President.
Now four trillion seven hundred and ninety three
The only person in the world is me.
28th Feb. 2016
Originally drafted in the days of Dolly The Sheep.
For a man of the cloth, our dear vicar
is not very partial to clothes
He is almost allergic to trousers
and y-fronts get right up his nose.
Ev’ry Sunday as he climbs in the pulpit
(where the choir boys are sitting below)
His meat and two veg are seen swinging
And it’s proof that he is commando
The ladies who bake and do flowers
don’t know if to scream or to peek
but Olga the Organist’s smiling
and she’s practising eight days a week!
At this year’s summer fete it was breezy
and the wind, I’m afraid, took its toll
His cassock blew up to his waistline
as he served up the last sausage roll
I've heard when he goes on vacation
He suns himself on a nudist beach
and his wife applies his sun lotion
to stop his tush looking like a ripe peach
03/14/20
Tingles
down my spine
for me it’s nearly time
my very first performance
in the Parkinson’s choir
Practising the songs
morning
noon
and night
memorising lyrics
ready for tonight
but now my mind is blank
don’t even know my name
oh golly ~ oh gosh
will they ever want me back again
The music it begins
and the soloist she sings
awaiting for our cue
before we can begin
Our voices sing in harmony
blend beautifully as one
uplifting ~ euphoric
a joyous sound we make
I am reaching new heights
as my heart starts to race
adrenaline is rising
I am touching the sky...
Lyrics so poignant
bring tears to my eyes
voices
rise to a crescendo
jubilation
can't be disguised
Audience is roaring
with rapturous applause
I am wrecked
I am crying
I am smiling
I'm on fire
And my soul…
well really ~ truly
it could not get any higher
Written 27th July 2019 - after performing in the Parkinson’s Choir for the first time…
1st October 2019
Contest Name Your Best Poem That is Trophy Worthy (Premiere Contest Trophy)
Contest 2
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
N/A
This was such an uplifting experience for me and as soon as I arrived home I had to express my utter joy and euphoria felt during and after our performance otherwise I would have burst! It is without doubt one of my favourite poems for it came from deep within my soul and I truly was "Touching the Sky"...
Contest N/A rerun 5
Sponsor John Hamilton
3rd Place
Contest Name Favourite Poem from June 2019 or July 2019
Sponsor Julia Wardn
Poem written 07.27.2019
Contest Brian's Choice 10
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st PLACE
HOW MANY TIMES ?
Now I’m a commonsense-o-holic
But when I was a practising catholic
Confession was always a trial or a show.
The guy behind the wire-gauze fence
Always seemed to want to know
How many times I had done the offence.
Well the most common offence, though odious,
Of young teenage boys is obvious:
And sometimes I used to mentally advance
The following extenuating circumstance
Well twenty-eight times this week
Because my hormones were at their peak;
Well fifty-three times but I must admit
It would have been sixty you’d have to acquit
If I had had enough energy left for such crimes;
Well, father, it would have been four times,
But there's no lock on the door, you see
And my mother walked in on me, suddenly.
What did he do with all the statistics of my energy pent?
Of frequency ? Of offending commandment?
Did he report to higher authority?
Did he keep bar charts or pie graphs of me
Compared with other boys of teen-age?
Was I better or worse than average?
Confession is secret so I never found out
But to hell I am going beyond any doubt.
What’s all this
Nonsense
Inch tapes out
Everyone measuring distance
They call it
‘Social distancing’
Never heard
Of any such thing
After all
Man is gregarious
He, she and us
Add to it
That one more bit
About ‘Self isolation’
Living all alone
Not a soul around,
Absolutely none
But wait
This we’ve
Already been practising
Bringing into our lives
The much required zing
Some dark, dingy place
Lying curled
Avoiding the world
Dodging prying eyes
Inventing all those lies
Two middle aged love birds
Coochie-cooing
Doing just our sort of thing
Our love
Since turning on
Its ignition
Has always been
On the run
Yes, I’ve tested positive
For CUPID-20
Me, supposedly vulnerable
Though, not exactly 60
Now you’ll say
I’ve to stay away
Ok, take it easy
Just chill mate
I’m ready to co-operate
But with a condition
The world I’ll shun
But lock me up
With her
Let my Valentine
Be my quarantine.
Duet
The purity of song is your glad grace,
you beautify the air with sweetest tone,
competing with the lark (more commonplace),
yours is true melody, second to none.
Blessed and bewitched whene'er you serenade,
the roses bow their heads in mute acclaim;
the creatures of the field, of every glade
attune their dance, rejoicing in your name!
So pleasant are the times we are as one,
you practising your art, I learning how
to blend with you, two lovers with one song,
in harmony for life, our sacred vow.
H ow does he balance life and what the Bible teaches?
E vidently by practising all that he preaches.
I mpacting lives by his words and deeds,
S erving God first, above his own needs.
M odel he is, for other men to follow,
Y eah, a true Jack of all trades, you know.
H umble and loving, though a strict stickler to rules,
E xperienced, wise and quite an expert with tools,
R eal fun to be with, time with him makes me glad,
O f course, he's my hero and none other than my dad.
11/26/17
Just remembering the 50's and the good old days,
When "I'm Bored" wasn't part of our vocabulary.
We had hopscotch, skip rope, hide 'n seek, and tag,
Life was full of adventure, dreams and mystery.
Food was scarce, money earned collecting bottles throughout the countryside.
Many of us hadn't even a bike nor a toboggan on which to slide.
We romanced the rain showers during April,
And frolicked in snow drifts at winter time.
Imaginations were awakened and we befriended,
Our river, meadows and woods with trees to climb.
Back then it was safe to walk alone to a friend's home,
Or explore along The St. Lawrence River's shore.
Back then neighbours were like family- close kin
Who'd no need to ever lock their door.
Simplicity was the poor man's secret,
Practising love, patience, humility and joy
Ever noticed the man who is led by God's Hand,
Never loses the essence of a much admired boy?
Reflections by Joan May Donnelly Ellis March 17 2015
By applying policies of apartheid
Or practising racial discrimination
Who want themselves or their clan
To be seen above than the rest of the world
People of this globe throw them down
But the man instead of pulling himself up
Bring up all in the line of equality
People of this globe push his stature above
Much more than the rest of humanity
Showing for him unprecedented respect and love.
Keep smiling through these hard times
And keep your head held high
It’s a crazy world right now
But somehow we’ll get by
Think of all the good things
Like not having to wash your hair
Or wear those tight jeans
You really need not care
For no one can judge you when hiding behind a door
Just remember when the video call comes
To keep the camera at the floor
Another thing you could consider
Is practising something new
Like train to be a divorce lawyer
After this we might need a few
The children will drive us mad
It’s what they’re here to do
But at least we’re shouting something different
Rather than WHERES YOUR OTHER SHOE
Its ok for the tv phone or iPad to be your new best friend
Among us all
I’ll bet this is a trend
One day soon this will all be over
And life once again can move on
We won’t need telling twice
And out the door we’ll be gone
We’ll breathe in the freedom
And chance to see people again
We won’t take family and friends for granted
We’ll be there just say when
So remember keep smiling
Keep your head held high
Some good has to come from this
And for sure we will get by
POEM BASED ON AN OLD JOKE
A village copper was on his beat
When he saw a parked car rocking
The rate that it was moving
It really was quite shocking
The windows were steaming up
He flashed his torch through the window
A couple were on the backseat
The ladies legs were all a kimbo
The guy winds down the car window
Saying I’m with my dance partner Fran
We’re trying to perfect the Tango
We do it wherever we can!
The copper goes about his duties
Later he comes across the same car
It was parked around the corner
The ‘dancers’ hadn’t moved too far
Again the car was rocking
This time to a latin beat
The pace of it was shocking
again the couple were on the back seat
So he taps upon the window
This time the lady pops up her head
She says we’re practising the Foxtrot
I must perfect my moves with Fred
The copper says he will be on his way
As he gets a mobile phone call
The couple climb into the front seat
Hoping their engine doesn’t stall
A little while later he sees the same car
It is rocking at an alarming rate
There's condensation running down the windows
The occupants he is about to berate
So he bangs upon the window
Saying I bet you're doing the Bossanova
The red faced girl says no officer -
I'm doing the boss a favour!
7/28/18
Why do people talk to babies as though they were stupid?
Isn’t he lovely? the old woman said
And doesn’t he look the spit of his Dad
Is he on solids, how long does he sleep
And how many other kids have you had?
Who does he look like? the young woman said
I’m not really sure if he’s anyone’s kid
I feed him on burgers, he doesn’t sleep much
And I’ve had one for each of the blokes that I did
Not quite the answers the old woman sought
The one about blokes pretty much struck her dumb
The young woman giggled, she’d made it all up
And what’s more she wasn’t even 'his' Mum
But what fun to be had as she walked around town
To the ‘ooohs’ and the ‘aaahs’ and the helium cries
Oh, the amusement of dressing a girl
In an outfit as blue as conventional skies
His name’s Rupert, she’d say, (sometimes Nobby or Fred)
Depending on who was that nosey that day
He’s got rickets, or measles, whatever disease
Occurred to her, and that seemed funny to say
It entertained baby, she really was bright
And sick of inane inappropriate chat
And of people who leaned far too near to her face
Who were nosey and smelly and frequently spat
She was in on the joke, and well up for the crack
For the stuff folk came out with was simply absurd
She was practising swearwords at night in her cot
To prepare for the day she could utter a word
And then she would show ‘em, she’d show ‘em alright
Not to treat her as though she was some kind of fool
It’s my business how many nappies I fill
Such personal questions, completely uncool
In the meantime, she’s watching, she’s mentally noting
How humans make speech in particular forms
Who is good, who is bad, who speaks some kind of sense
And who is averse to conventional norms
Oh, babies are little and can’t answer back
But don’t think for a moment they’re not on the ball
They’re not poodles, or Martians, or mentally ill
So speak to them nicely, or don’t speak at all
by Gail
Part Three
...swishing away with your sunshrivelled burgundy knotty arms with broad disdainful harvesting sweeps the cobras come out to water in the sweltering heat by the thatched fly-buzzed hole
your low under-the-breath warning tones a reminder of the will of your self-inflicted charge
you never ate until i gorged myself
like the dutiful wife given with a dowry
watching me all the time through the shield of the wisp of cloud of cheroot smoke in your sentinel corner against the far wall your eyes glinting fearing that i might take exception and even before my plate was half-empty you had already darted across the kitchen floor to bring me more fried brinjals mashed greens fried and sliced plantain the steaming rice lying bare by its metal cover hanging on the lip of the open pot-mouth in a clear aluminium pot by my side
now they say you are gone for some plotted and took your life in haste
even before you had time to ensure an heir
others say you were alone dismayed abandoned by your own
prey to enchanters coveting
the plot of land the house derelict forsaken by your absence
they say some one else caretakes it for himself
others no a forbidden son of your husband’s has raked it for himself
alas would you have known how landless nationless stateless i’d be
this dot of ancestral land clinging-clanging in memory
did you know then you might never see me again
nor probably ever hear of me
or if you had how might you have taken it all
did you believe the tales true and false they told
or only what you wanted to hear
of your precious prince you once served in silence and
who had gone to slave in other lands
Notes
eevaa peerankal muuvaa marunthu is a take on another well-known Tamil proverb: eevaa makkal muuvaa marunthu meaning “children who obey even before the order is given are a God-send”. Here, in lieu of children, the word “grandparents” is substituted
chembu: a small usually copper vessel shaped like a rounded vase with a tapering neck and open mouth, used for holding drinking water or milk
kuul: thick holdall gruel which may also be highly spiced
chemman: red soil
Vaithi: ayurvedic doctor, practising the traditional Indian homeopathic medicine
© T.Wignesan 1997 - Paris May 7, 1997 (from the Sequence/Collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
Family ought to be high in Church and State, a place for practising His way
Forgiveness is hardest at home, as in sharing religion, or charity there ...
Let us go Home now Jesus: this world holds nothing holy, or treasured, today.
The evil thoughts, ponera, they come whilst I am dreaming away
Of a white Christmas, a really white Christmas in the Americas ...
Family ought to be high in Church and State, a place for practising His way
"Your older brother stole your land and home. Don't let him get away"
One sister took your book and coin collection, while you were in the Americas!
Let us go Home now Jesus, this world holds nothing holy, or treasured, today.
The devil is ever busy, and he is a lawyer, too, pressing charges all the way
Against my siblings. They are wrong, but I must forgive say the Gospel writers
Family ought to be high in Church and State, a place for practising His way
So when my beautiful sleep is assailed by Satan, so near Christmas Day
I cling to Jesus and His teachings: "Forgive because ye are ALL sinners!"
Let us go Home now Jesus, this world holds nothing holy, or treasured, today.
All we endure here has to teach us that nothing here will endure or stay
Siblings colonize, brutalize, and lie as if I'm a virgin land in the Americas
Family ought to be high in Church and State, a place for practising His way
Let us go Home now Jesus, this world holds nothing holy, or treasured, today.
THE SEVEN DISAPPEAR
So the Prince asked Snow White to marry him,
And the dwarfs said good bye to Snow White.
From that day on, Snow White lived in a castle.
But from time to time, she was drawn back
to visit the little cottage down in the forest.
One day she knocked on door and no one answered
She asked about, and found that -
Sneezy had been taken to
the allergy clinic for intensive treatment.
(When Snow white was found asleep
after the apple episode,
they originally thought that Sneezy had infected her.)
Sleepy had been sent
to the narcolepsy institute for observation;
Dopey ( a k a The Dwarf Dealer ) was taken
To drug rehabilitation (with basket-weaving);
Doc (a fleeing Nazi war criminal) was
Imprisoned for practising medicine without a licence;
Bashful (real name Social Phobia )
Was felt to be in need of counselling;
Grumpy had no choice but anger-management classes
( residential accommodation included);
Happy was suspected of near-imbecile tendencies -
Hence his happiness in the face of dwarfism and loneliness -
He was locked up for observation and self-protection.
So Snow White lived happily ever after but
Thanks to government programs and welfare spending
The seven also lived in closed institutions for ever after.
Their diamond mine was taken over by the state
To offset the medical costs.
……………………………………………………………..
Written for John Heck’s competition
The “Happy Ending” of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs