The Cat in a Hat
sat on a mat
(the mat was flat)
when
Pat a bat
who was fat
(a flying rat)
chasing a gnat
(the gnat went zzzat)
dropped in
(splat!)
for a chat
(what a brat)
but
(tit for tat)
was told to scat
imagine that!
(Moral of the story: Uninvited unwelcome)
Don’t fold me on-the-fold,
on the crease well-marked.
I’m tired of swans and cranes,
of being shaped into
your cookie cutter shapes,
pressed into the dough.
Let me be the mirrored sea.
The tranquil lake of high country.
The field of grass at dawn,
undisturbed by quake of breeze.
Let me be the elixir scent of flowers,
untainted by stench of memories.
The blue sky reaching to the far horizon,
with no hint or tint of clouds.
Let me be the pure fresh page,
you turn, flat nascent smooth,
for your Origami.
I would like to be charitable
Give you the benefit of the doubt
But your bullying ways have made this impossible
I am flat out of forgiveness now
The bones, lay flat, without a sound,
Then one by one, clickety-clack.
Departed souls’ cold backs did crack.
The bones lay flat without a sound,
Until their jaws did flap, confound.
Each found its skull a lantered-Jack.
The bones lay flat without a sound.
Then one by one, clickety-clack.
The bones lay flat without a sound.
The bones lay flat without a sound.
The bones lay flat without a sound.
Then one by one, clickety-clack.
Then one by one, clickety-clack.
Deceased army prepares attack.
I open my eyes.
All around me,
everything is unfamiliar:
unfamiliar wallpaper,
unfamiliar white leather sofa,
unfamiliar country.
I moved here to teach,
and here I am learning
that I’m underprepared,
underqualified,
underdressed,
and hungover.
He wouldn’t let me leave last night,
you see.
As the party was dying,
I coloured his bathroom
with oversweet Georgian wine
and washed down chicken wings
that came back up.
He decided:
I could miss the last metro,
sleep on this atrocious sofa,
recover.
Of course,
now it’s 7am,
and I have to teach a class
of engineers,
bridge builders,
about ing phrasal verbs
in less than two hours.
And I have to do it
with a hangover and a smile.
I think to myself
as I struggle with front door locks and keys
before climbing out of a downstairs window,
what a strange story this will be.
And yet waking up here,
it could be a whole lot worse
than this beautiful Baku sunrise.
Do you sometimes use GPS
To navigate your flat world?
Did you ever wonder how all those satellites
Get around to the underside?
Do you use a flush toilet
Or a siphon?
See, fluids can sometimes run uphill.
Your “the Amazon River is flat” theory
Fails to hold water.
Did you ever consider an Antarctic cruise?
Did you ever want to sail around the South Pole?
You could look out for the ice-wall
That you think holds the oceans in.
Do you recognize a metaphor?
When the Bible talks about the
“Four corners of the Earth”,
It’s an idiom for distant lands,
Or is your world-view ‘square’?
Every other celestial body we can see is round.
Why should the Earth be so different?
Phases of the Moon,
Pictures of Earth taken by astronauts,
The “celestial spheres” really are spherical.
If you need a book to tell you what is real,
Try a physics book.
If you need a tool to discern what is right,
Try logic or experiment.
Try to see beyond the horizon.
If your world is really constricted
To what you can see from your limited view,
Then, perhaps, start walking.
Humanity still struggles to comprehend
That all life on earth is for us to tend
We must cease our pillaging of this great land
Instead, care for all life as it was planned
We are the shepherds of the plane
Our destructive behaviour is beyond insane
There’s a reason we are the most evolved
Ain’t a problem for us that can’t be solved
Supremely created by our father above
Our little hearts are capable of so much love
Solely responsible for the earth’s almighty pain
We are the shepherds of the plane
A golden age is upon us; soon we’ll understand
Back to nature we are going; immense change is at hand
Our soul vibration will soon increase
As we stand on the precipice of wondrous peace
New forests will emerge, and greenery will flourish
A bountiful world to thrive and nourish
Water’s will sparkle once more for Mother Earth
A new beginning is at hand, a welcome rebirth
We are the shepherds of this great plane
The devil grips us no more; we’ve broken the chain
Freed from the shackles of our crippling fears
Together, we weep in a sea of glorious tears
there is no right or wrong
in doing anything
no bad or good
just semi-empty opinions
and unpredictable consequences
the world is flat
and God stays on the edges
Busted Flat …
Poetic busking
the white lines advancing
A voice on the asphalt
the rubber — the road
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
The Heaviest Silence
Oh, to be cursed
with the burden of truth
Without the propensity
—to speak it out loud
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
[Not strictly limericks as syllable count is out,
But hey… be a rebel… ignore the rules!]
_______________________________________
I met the young lady from flat forty-five
I told her, “Your beauty makes me feel alive.”
She said, “My name’s Lexi.”
Her voice was SO sexy
My heart beat as though it was in overdrive
She took no persuading to give me a kiss
And then she said, “I bet you want more than this.”
My ardour was stirred
A lot more occurred
And my whole life became an ocean of bliss
The feelings we nurtured in flat forty-five
Instilled in me romance that surely would thrive
She patted my sleeve
And said, “You should leave,
My next client is about due to arrive.”
Downhearted, I made my way down to the street
I felt worse than Bonaparte when he was beat
Until she called down,
“Don’t go off with a frown,
Podiatrists, like me, just do people’s feet”
Well that tipped the scales and put wind in my sails
I rushed up those stairs like a steam train on rails
And soon, side by side
I got me a bride
I also got soft feet with manicured nails
I’m thirsty
It’s hot
I order a cold, refreshing soda.
I can hardly wait
My tastebuds excited as they wait for the glorious liquid to envelope the inside of my mouth
Anticipating the rush of little bubbles exploding with fervor as they make their way down my throat.
The satisfaction of feeling the cold fluid colliding with my internal thermostat, plunging the reading back to decency
Refreshing my ever parched and dry soul
Only to swallow a flat, warm soda.
That has been my experience knowing you.
Death …
when there’s no longer
something to believe in
(Dreamsleep: October, 2023)
When Your Young Life Catches You Flat Footed
BarBQ, potato chips Mountain Dew and Watermelon pie
It was a huge celebration of friends on the Fourth of July
There was Tammy with beautiful hair and those dark tanned legs
And Patricia looking so sexy, appetizing, made a soul want to beg
Then ravishing Connie, O, me my, my, those sweet sexy lips
Last but not least there was Helen, that made Greeks launch those ships
Four very beautiful women and each one I had once dated
I wonder if the day would be a curse that was indeed ill Fated
And each one of them was surely there to see little ole me
I did not know whether to be very glad or so swiftly flee
My new wife looked at me, gave me that "you better behave stare"
I was immediately wishing these feet to rush me out of there
What to do next, what to say, damn it, I had not a clue
I was so deeply perplexed, and thus into the house I flew
"Man o man", the pressure on my heart surely hit me damn hard
Like a wise man, I went and hid in my library, writing like a Bard.
Robert J. Lindley,
16 verse Narrative
Why do I find no tune on my CDs in G,
so I can play along with my harmonica –
which is in G?
I find a tune in G-flat,
and one in B-flat,
and even two in C minor.
Was there one in A-flat,
very close to G –
but not G?
Wish there were an O,
neither flat nor sharp –
just O major, of course.
But there isn't!
If there were such
I could shout: Oh! Oh! Oh!
But please, my dear CDs,
give us a G, my major wish!
Gee, give us a G!
(June 2023)
A man's joke could not trigger laughter:
A good one about helicopter
Some poor guy often flew in dreams
While in true life could not pay for creams;
Audience of joke cracker creditors,
Who needed prompt cash for auditors;
Three with him for their thousand dollars,
On that day joke cracker's First callers.
"So, why these tales about helicopter
And opening an unwished chapter?"
Tales might veer to roofs of rafter
Now left for Generations after...
Joke got the more intolerable,
When he said not things honorable
They are not leaving him just, like that
Each need to show rat he'd turned a cat
Yes, jokes could fall flat for bad timing
And one can't restore them with miming.
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