I have a great aunt who can blether and blather about nothing
she drops hints about her wealth as she spits her gobbledygook
Since she is 97, I ignore her nonsense, but she has no idea
For I have her on speaker and every once in a while I grunt
Or I say “uh-huh”, or “oh, yeah”. I never have to say tell me more.
Her claptrap hogwash tripe is longer than the longest freight train.
It stretches from Omaha to California. Empty talk, for sure.
I put the phone down sometimes and vacuum a room.
Or take the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer.
When I return, she is still talking. Balderdash nonsense, for sure.
She loves the fact that I do not call her on her bunk and bull.
I check her off my list of people to call for a month. Win win.
Racing the oval of tide
Watching the sun and moon collide
Riding on horses in the oval of fate
Saddling on courses in the ring of slate
Horses in breeds of colors and shade
Forces in creeds of odors and glade
Mares and lasses of cold and wintry grounds
Grasses and races on parch, dusty mounds
Sun speaks of myths and bounds of horses' blether
Moon tweaks on blithes and squally weather
Sun and moon are light and dark horses
Scuttling, bustling in many races
Sprinting is a long distance course
Glinting and weltering without remorse
Humans breathe as horses, treading and running with reins
Born to win in the oval... praying, striving with strong veins!
“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,
©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.
writing
Writing is rubbing words together
Enough to make fire ,
regardless of how bad is weather
Scribble the pen to make yourself inspire,
Stop doing useless blether
Fulfill your own desire,
Animals are killed for there leather
So don't be foolish to stolen by soft spoken attire,
regardless of how bad is weather
Scribble the pen to make yourself inspire!
~Manjeet!
(Besife??)
Set ‘midst windswept dunes and wild wild weather,
the winter storms have left it desolate.
An empty shell, no glowing hearth, no blether.
A but and ben abandoned to its fate.
And yet, awaiting warmer days in stoic slumber,
these walls will know the early murmurings of summer
and brighter sounds of fellowship and mirth,
a home exulting in its own rebirth,
until at length, as daylight fades, now dark and bleak,
a silent house returns again to wintry sleep.
The government is not debating,
Internally or understating,
Attacking, flipping the opposition,
Or denouncing the wealth creating.
All parties work together,
To social fairness we toast,
Maintaining the societal blether,
Announcing the financial host.
Few MPs sit in Parliament,
The chamber is internal,
The order is not permanent,
Here, the rules fraternal.
We will all look back,
Upon this treacherous time,
Commend ourselves for yack,
For prohibiting the crime.
Reverse! To the Coronavirus,
Stop somewhere else, not here,
Glide into outer space,
To prohibit any reason for tear.
Metrics,
Real concs.
Problems,
Solve ‘ems.
Nature,
Culture.
See slave,
Behave.
Faction,
Action.
Mating,
Dating.
Suckle,
Chuckle.
Test tube,
Stat loop.
Scope read,
Nodes said.
Bi drive,
Lat hive.
Theory,
Clearly.
Method,
Deft thud.
Method,
Deft cod.
Select,
Chain checked.
Gather,
Blether.
Science,
Finance.
Science,
Distance.
Freedom,
Kingdom.
Freedom,
Random.
You need to be
Happy and free
To live together
And not worry or blether
For tolerance seems to be an old idea
And why is something that is not so clear
Perhaps it’s religion, creed or colour
That separates us from one another
It seems that pride is part of it all
As you would want to recall
How your ancestors built for you
A place to live that is great too
So when challenging you ideal
And considering if someone is the real deal
It is hard to integrate them
When their standard is so different we comprehend.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Look down on me and you'll see
A simple blur in natures mist
Looking down on my life's surround
Like it's particles, I'll soon drift
So silently in natures dark
I'll never be that feather
For somewhere against my fall
The whistling of me shall blether
As I descend to I
To Earths terra firma I mean
I pray I get to look up
To where the Branches of Life I've been.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re young or old,
male or female, able-bodied or disabled,
we all stand with the same shooting [hold],
beginner or experienced [to get enabled].“
Jo’s an archer who began shooting 2014,
When in June she won mixed team gold,
At the Para World’s in Czech land, been,
And in August at the Euros, got twice gold.
The next year, 2015, in Holland in May,
She won gold again, also women’s bronze,
Women’s team bronze, made a WR, hay,
To make her mark on archery’s lawns.
She describes herself as happy, loyal,
And also dedicated, started in the pool
With her sports journey, where, royal,
She spotted archery to then firmly rule.
Then in the June of 2015 in Czech again,
She won gold in the Para Grand Prix,
The women’s silver and the team, women,
Open Compound, a silver to victory see.
At the World Para Championships, August,
In Germany she took the gold and silver,
For the mixed team and the women’s gust,
Setting four World Records, no blether.
April 2016 saw her win mixed team gold,
And also Ladies gold at the Euro Paras,
In France. Her favourite film, said, told,
Is Lorenzo’s Oil, and Coldplay is class.
Graeme’s hero is Steven Gerrard,
That Liverpool and LA football player,
And has Cerebral Palsy. It was hard,
‘Cos doctors said he’d never blether.
He was prematurely delivered 1979,
But can now lift 3x his body weight.
For his 8th birthday his parents fine,
Bought him a horse, sports to date.
He studied at Beaumont College,
In Lancaster, where he got involved,
In CP sports competitions to wage,
His abilities and strength devolved.
Joining Chorley town Athletic Club,
He became determined to make it,
And in May 2012 Graeme did tub,
Taking silver, to sprint the Worlds fit.
Then in the London Games, Paras,
He won another silver to objectify,
His raw talent in the T36 100 metres,
In which he does his dreams solidify.
whatever
a welcome lessening of blether
in absentia
it's now outside the tent you are.
Into the blue I travelled, destination better,
Journey unknown, but couldn’t be worse,
Than before, enthralled by this blether,
The space that makes mice loudly curse.
Interactive area, views, comments made,
Open contests to flick, fade or embrace,
Blogs to exchange opinions on the laid,
And ideas coming from others’ kind ace.
Articles on poetry and literature so fair,
The freedom of expression stands tall,
Freedom of speech exist here to chair,
The tunnels, spirals, the opaque and all.
The journey is itself the pleasure, fab,
The writing of the poems brings cheer,
And there is never anyone to chide, tab,
Even when to the eye there is a big tear.
Getting to know other poets is the best,
Encouragement, insight and direction;
Knowing your loved by another chest,
Brings confidence, hope, compensation.
THE WAY
The way through the wilderness is clear,
Impossible dreams come true, my dears,
Tolerance to be taught to the human race,
We're all sparked with mankind's grace,
There is a way through the wilderness,
Impossible dreams to come true, no less,
All children do play together,
Until dissuaded by adults' blether,
The way through the wilderness is clear,
Impossible dreams can come true, my dears,
Kindness taught to the human race,
Universal smiles free on everyone's face,
The way through the wilderness is clear,
Impossible dreams can come true, my dears.
Uncertainty lies
With us being together
Yet claiming promises
Of always and forever
Old fashion belief
In a love without measure
Steady we shall stay
For always and forever
Numb without one
Starved without the other
So crucial is the keepsake
Of always and forever
Words will continue
In a ritual blether
Sharing future vows
Of always and forever
But the stars predict
Our relationship be severed
Still we cling to the hope
Of always and forever
Will we follow the sensible
Give into the worlds pressure
And forsake the idea
Of always and forever
Or instead grasp tight
Run away to wherever
Just he and I
For always and forever
Only time will tell
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