Hello to all soupers.. My best wishes to all.. I am trying to get to grips with a
Narrative account, of a meeting I had way back in 1994 which only popped back
In my mind January of 2023.' It is mentally difficult to recall the exact sequence
Of dialogue.. Not least because I know now this ( random meeting ) with what I
Now know was a 'w e 'f operative had me initially be- moaning human overpopulation
And its 'so called' detrimental effects on the planet.' It was me who started the talk
To the complete stranger who I have never seen since..I validated the event by checking
Lectures in the university he noted the was working..And some of what I considered
Unworkable ideas that I aired on the day I now see coming into existence in our world
I had obviously picked up ' some ideaology' also 15 years prior? So It seems from what
I see spoken at davos.. and catchphrases I have some part in our current predicament
Which I need to address, and it is a mental stress..I will finish now, I hope to get on I
Could finish this in a few hours now, but it's so depressing.'
I may get on to make the odd comment but please bear with
Me? All the best, all my love.'
Is it a curd? is it a stain.? No its quyeer kharmer..! A true wef acolyte.! Yet certainly no real charmer.' A bender.. Of the knee; is He.' Ex-copper? Is such a certainty.' All lockdowns and
Letters and scraping to betters..Tough on freedoms and
The causes of it.! So uncertain of truths that are built upon it!
He holds a wavering lowered gaze.' A smirk?a grimace? is oft
Portrayed.! Many hollow actions..And so often made.!! He
Builds with straw..He gleans from you, he will miss-name!
A far right will do.) He'll use any means.' Its how he is' now
Get to grips people, he's just not the biz.'
I derive no pleasure in hurting a fly,
Preferring to let spiders do that for me,
Or just to shoo them away.
Bug spray is only used as a last resort,
And sticky fly papers are banned at our house.
But when it comes to weeds,
I show no mercy,
Not even for the little ones,
And derive great satisfaction,
From laying waste to their domain,
Letting all that pleases the eye,
And my taste buds have free reign in their place.
My day is not complete unless I have undone the hard work of creepers,
That come out after dark,
Intent on strangling anything they can get to grips with.
With weeds I have no empathy,
With weeds I show no mercy,
With weeds I show no restraint,
And my pleasure in their demise,
Only increases when I see a daffodil,
Where once there was only weeds,
Or watch my grandson pick a strawberry,
Instead of a weed.
If I only I could say
Or tell you all that
My inbox is so full up
Even be that with negativity bile
fuelled hate criticism of my opinions
about and on the subject I have wrote
I find myself with having no storage
space left
In order for people to place fresh new
comment in
To the point I have to delete the vast
majority of them
Then maybe I might begin to understand
or get to grips with them that choose to
spend their time doing that
But then again come to think of it
they no more want to be understood
As I want or would ever willingly wish
to understand what exactly makes
them want to do or subject other
people to such vitriol and abuse
I suppose in reality we should actually feel
sorry for them and write them straight back
and ask them how they are doing and be
dead nice to them
And now that I have just written and read
that back I am actually laughing so hard I think
I may have just peed my pants
Because that will properly wipe the smug
smile right off their face
And sure enough ruin and shoot their day
all to hell
To the point they log off and go back to sleep
I still can not get to grips with
Or get my head around
My age getting old
So seeing the kids getting older
A few days away from 25
Quarter of a Century
My mind is blown
They were me once upon a time
A life time ago
Oh no
Oh yes
Gluteus Maximus
That Gladiator of Rome
Got into such a rage
That his mouth did foam,
He cursed and snarled
And snarled and cursed,
Yet things didn’t improve
But got much worse;
His fists beat the ground
And he spat into the air,
No one dare come close
When his temper did flare.
Obviously struggling
To undo a knot so big
Wasn’t his strong point,
He couldn’t give a fig!
Unable to get to grips
With those darn leather laces
His sandals caused such scowls
And grotesque grimaces...
So, aren’t you grateful
That he isn’t alive today?
That bad tempered warrior
Your life he would slay
Just with one of his black looks
Or a growl at your face,
You’d probably explode
With only a trace
Of smoke and shoes
Left where you did stand,
Nothing but grey ashes
On the Coliseum’s red sand!