. it
will there
be
wait'n
wanton wenchez
wild
((woe))
who
might thuh
have
daddio
companion
dirk
')>
There was a young woman at work
Who was always pursued by a jerk
She found his sexting
Seriously vexing
So she stabbed him with a dirk.
my day is up to me
my attitude is my choice
every minute can be great or dull
I can watch tv all day if I like
I’m watching a series I cannot outguess
this rarely happens
I read a synopsis after the second episode
it is based on a comic book series
Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency
I am hooked at this second
When I am bored, I switch it up
retirement is delightful, my day is up to me
Exactly who is strongest?
As above, so below.
Which, pray tell, did the gods best?
Spring, sprig mistletoe...
'Under heaven' read the sign.
Only one could tell!
Fancifully or by design?
Witches, cast thy spell!
Roundabout the ruddy run?
Has twilight begun?
Forlorn yet still having fun?
Midnight before one!
Warlord of the ages?
O conquerors, take heed:
Serene, are ye, sages?
Draw bead, O my greed!
Plead? To who? Doth ye bleed blue?
Hope, need ye accrue?
O for hearts a-torn in two!
Mistakes, need we rue?
Crew of skeletons at work?
How then best to shirk?
Daring devils, draw thy dirk!
Who's the master, jerk?
Psychology, operate!
Target, O my hate!
Grown up, ghast, upon the great?
Limestone, set thy date!
Fate, thy fortune. Soaked like wood.
Down the sea-cliff fall.
Concepts like the idea 'good'!
Brood of big and small!
Should? O for us, to the last!
Hanged from every mast!
Alabaster, set in plast!
Machine, get first fast...
I couldn't give a toss for the caber
cromach bagpipes sporran or kilt
(a fling's the thing)
and you can stick your dirk in your haggis
up to its bog-wood hilt
yet I'd like to hike through the heather
on happy Sassenach holidays
see the scenery admire the view
along Scottish hilly highways and byways
to pick a pink-purple thistle or two
and should I come upon a hairy Highland cow
on the hoof in a friendly farmer's flink fold
(for protection from the cold)
in no uncertain terms I would declare
"I say to you, hoo noo broon coo?"
och aye no sooner said than done
than perchance from the Caledonian bovine one
the reply too true in a Scots burr would come...
'Moo!'
If there was one movie left for me to forget
And you placed a bet,
On the one left for me to forget,
I think you would lose that bet.
The singer not the song,
May be, in most memories long gone
But for me it is still the one,
That places the singer of the song,
Above the song,
And I don't think that wrong.
It is not too late,
To set up a plate,
And make a date with 1961,
The year this one,
Let Dirk Bogarde and John Mills shine,
A spotlight on a song that has been sung,
For so long,
Yet not always sung,
As strong.
I`VE BEEN READINGS LIMERICKS BY JAN,
TO EMULATE THE BEST THAT I CAN.
SHE CAN WRITE ABOUT POOH,
STICKY STUFF AND GOO.
WITH THE SAME SENSE OF HUMOUR AS A MAN.
NOW I WILL HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT DIRK,
ALWAYS ACTING AND BEING A JERK.
HE WOULD GET OUT HIS WEENUS,
SAYS IT LOOKS LIKE A P*N*S.
YOU CANT HELP BUT LAUGH AT THE BIG BERK.
SO THAT WAS MY LIMERICK FOR JAN,
I EMULATED THE BEST THAT I CAN.
BUT SHES THE LIMERICK QUEEN,
YOU ALL KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
KEEP MAKING US ALL SMILE, PLEASE JAN.
in 1923 girl babies were named Nancy, Susan and Ann
boy babies were christened John, Michael, and Joe
then the flappers came along and changed everything
Now girls could be Lois, Louise, and Edna
Boys were approved for names like Samuel and Zeb
During the depression years babies were suffering
They were named for grandparents
Jim, Stuart, Johnathan, Eunice, Maude, Bessie
During the fifties, it was vogue to name your children with the same letter
A family could have Dirk, Deke, Deanna, Dillion and Dwayne
Maurice, Marlene, and Margo lived across the street.
In the sixties names were borrowed from Presidents
Back to the Johns and Samuels, I am not sure about girl names
Seventies arrived; now okay to name your children Freedom and Rainbow
After that, it has been everything and anything goes
Shanty, River, Drake, Tulip, Apple, Bedpan
Baby books cannot keep up with the flow
Angela’s assertive ways were not the ways of a confident man
But to get to high places in her engineering career
She tried to be as forceful as a woman legitimately can
Unseen motives were concealed, not quite clear
Camouflaged from the other employees at her work
Masked from most, concealed only to those she held dear
Idiosyncratic plan with a tiny quirk
Characteristic of Angela’s methodical personality
Unique flavor that appealed to a guy named Dirk
Vice President of engineering department in section C
Dirk promptly promoted Angela to boss, happily.
just under his kilt
slightly hanging at a tilt
from the tip to hilt
once great weapon starts to wilt
highland dirk ~ covered in silt
By David Kavanagh
highland dirk = Scottish stabbing weapon
We are inviting you to join our club of sixty- two.
I was surprised, excited, and honored, by Miss Lou.
You are our type, she assured me. We all want you.
I believed her for sure; it gave me a big head too.
You even look like the founders, the Ticket master said.
I did not catch her name, something like Rover Fido Red.
And will they be there? I asked, curious. I thought they were dead.
They might be, he agreed, if they wake up and get out of bed.
The door open wide and the dogs came running in.
One gave me a swift sloppy lick on my chin.
Another one sniffed me all over, until Rover made him stop.
“Now let’s introduce you to the founders, the top.”
The founders were gray hounds, Miss. Hiawatha and Miss Dirk.
They were old maid sisters, who never had to work.
Their father gave them money, so they could play all day.
I looked like these dog? No bow! No wow! No way!
I am running around breathlessly, trying to do it all.
There are followers, admirers, helpers but this is my fantasy.
An orphanage, a dog shelter, and a home for unwed mothers.
It is the sixties, when they were tormented and abused for being so.
Add a movie theater, a skating rink and a dance studio I call to an assistant.
She jots some notes and hurries away, toward the children’s clown college.
“What can I do?” Dirk, one of my most persistent fawners asks.
Can you feed the sheep? Goats? Missouri mules?
He nods and runs off happy.
I am still walking at a brisk clip,
checking things out, making sure they are right.
My assistant’s assistant runs over to ask “popcorn in the theaters?
And Junior Mints, I tell him.
“And I want that theater built by tomorrow night.”
All possible when you are a nine-year-old child
But how in the hell did I know about unwed mothers?
This was 1961, and my parents told me nothing.
I still ponder this recurring dream I had every night for a year.
... The pen is mightier than the sword ...
The poet knight went off to war
To prove his valor true.
Sir Arthur Berk, the troubadour,
Knew he had much to do
For he had found a greater sword
To strike his foes down dead.
He swore to fight invading horde
And make their ink spill red.
Each lord, farm hand and tavern maid,
Had often heard him tell
The fierceness of his secret blade
And all the foes it fell.
Of dragons and of armies past
He'd read this weapon killed.
The legend of his sword was vast;
The ink would soon be spilled.
Soon rival horde had come again
All took up sword and shield.
The armies prepped for battle then
Were met upon the field.
They yelled and brandished spear and dirk
But soon were silent when
All held their breath to watch Sir Berk
As he unsheathed his ... pen?
He rushed in sure and unconcerned
But fell at the first blow,
And what new truth he might have learned
I guess we'll never know.
But if, perhaps, he'd been more keen
Sir Berk might still yet live;
Too late he learned the difference 'tween
Literal and Figurative.
9.13.18
Contest: Unsheathe Your Sword
CULLODEN FORETOLD
A man he once said ta'e me,
You'll lay on heather, your gut will bleed.
Near Inverness you should na'e be,
Your end is there upon thee.
I paid no heed, jumped to my feet,
Charged through the Highlands, sword in sheath.
Loyalty to the Stuarts was my belief,
and to the end that will be.
The charge has stalled, and is no more.
The Duke has trained his English Score,
to stand and fight, not run as before.
This man who spoke has told me.
On this ground I now will stand,
dirk at side, sword in hand.
Bring on my foe, I now demand,
The day has come, God save me.
The volley came, smoke thick as fog.
We charged into the peat and bog,
They stood as one, and stopped our trod,
and slaughtered all that will be.
And now I lay, my gut has bled.
A man by me, still live, not dead.
A Brit comes near, thrusting as he treads,
kills him and I as foretold to me.
Graham Alexander Devenish
First Adam
Two hundred thousand years before the time of this,
Surfing spirits crost the terrible, the great murky abyss,
One Amilius in command, 5 Adams he had planned,
5 colours he'd insist, before the dawn of hist,
5 hardy human bands! Where ice and snow exists,
within the swirling mists, an Adam in command!
Populated from the stars, cave men smoking big cigars.
Spirit into bodys slipt, in the suitable fellas, {homonid}
Mind expanding, brain a growing, altered forms by spirit knowing,
Mind creates, forgotten knowing, dwell a bit on this!
Negative will draw you ought,
positive forever sought,
see your path a spiritual sort,
after bodies gone, WE exist!
negative IT is evils work,
depression spikes you like a dirk,
shake it off, command desist!
Like pulling teeth might get you pist:}
YOU are in charge of this...
Don Johnson
Homonids were possessed and altered to Homosapien by mental DNA adjustment, creating a human race with intelligent spirits in command. But sometimes the animal Homonid in rage or passion takes command ...a loose cannon...
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