He gave me a gift, terribly good-
but it was clearly misunderstood.
Good grief, what does it do?
looks pretty ugly too!
Like huge chunky goggles, there it stood.
Deafening silence came over me!
Seriously funny, for you see
this was his only choice?
For me there was no voice?
A cruel kindness- how can this be?
The sound of silence he broke with shout-
Falsely true is what this is about!
Awfully good, you see-
virtual reality!
Definite maybe, you will freak out!
Alone together, now bittersweet
our short minor crisis, we did meet!
In a true fiction world
open secrets unfurled!
These chunky goggles cannot be beat!
Time for me to go to sleep
the task at hand, counting sheep
dreams like water flow and start
a special form, dreamscape art
drifting now, going deep, credit to the sheep.
As I live, I like to learn
and learning's fun for me
Music, science, Physic's
Math and History
Art and Language Are most fun
I love Geography
But lately some new subjects
Have really challenged me
Looking at my cell phone
I have just one more wish
That in time I could find
A way to speak Spam-ish
Chorus
I really am sorry and I don't mean to be rude
But until I learn this language,
There's only one thing I can do
I know it's not very nice
And surely that is true
Cause it seems I have no other choice
I'm hanging up on you
Looking at my cell phone
I have just one more wish
That in time I could find
A way to speak Spam-ish
To be yourself-ish
Or to be yourself-less
That is the question:
It's like not knowing yourself
to be “yourself” that you'll be
everyone else but you
But knowing yourself
that being yourself
cause all but hurt for you
If they know themselves
they’ll save themselves by
knowing they can't save you
So you think to yourself
To end yourself to
spare them the truth
But don't refuse yourself
and turn yourself-less
It's okay to be yourself-ish
Got to be yourself-ish
or remain yourself-less
Both are all but hellish
Lose yourself or
Warp yourself
None can offer help
And yet. I could care no less
The answer, I shall relish
Forever, I’ll cherish.
some greenhouse painting,
an overcast Autumn's day,
grey paint, skies, and mood.
(c) The Didds 2024
All at once it dawned on me
that Trump’s MAGA philosophy
is very Ayn Rand-ish (without all her sharp edges)
~ One reason he’s hated by socialistic progressives
I wandered and pondered my bleak isolation
As I slowly perused this wide open space
That one cloud above me seemed, like me, quite lonely
Its passage was slow as it matched my own pace
And then I saw poppies so tall, red and bold
I wished they were daffies in yellow and gold
The lake in its vastness reflected the skies
And sprinkles of sunlight beyond that lone cloud
Peppered the ripples with myriad eyes
And led me to feel like I walked with a crowd
While unopened poppies stand tall with bowed heads
They’ll stand even taller displaying their reds
Could there be any more precious a day
I all at once yearned to be no other place
With sunlight and ripples and poppies that sway
I found that a smile had enlivened my face
For such a sight might make an old poet gay
(Which one should interpret the old fashioned way)
For oftentimes upon my old sofa lain
I reminisce of all those poppies so red
Their petals occur to me now and again
But gold hues hold sway in my head
Though poppies, that day, cleared my mind of its ills
I still wish that they had all been daffodils
Shall I compare thee to a corpse decay?
Thou smell’st less putridly and more pleasant:
Foul winds escape th’orifices may
Of both thee ‘n’ it (though it’s more “fragrant”).
The eyes o’ th’dead are dull, while thine do shine,
And often is its cold complexion paled
(Be th’body fair or dark, it grays in time).
Thy heart does beat while th’othern’s failed.
From thy nocturnal slumber, thou sure shalt wake,
Thine age progression’ll on as thou grow’st;
But death shall cause the foetid corpse to take
A much more disintegral course, thou know’st:
So long as thou canst breathe and ‘live canst be,
Prefer shall I to corpse my time with thee.
Written on May 19, 2023 for the "Sonnet Poetry Contest" - sponsored by Sotto Poet
mountains, with baby-clenched palms,
birthed in red, green and dark
blues - the chaos erupting!
slapping the canvas on the…
cherry red pits,
hauntingly beautiful.
one dares not slide
their fingers over the crevices.
the green team,
slime-like Nickelodeon-ooze —
forest green sans trees.
colors develop and mature at the horizon -
mustard yellow, blue, white, pastel-
green haze. a green claw on the far left;
far right — belle in yellow and orange hoop.
this Bull-ish masterpiece
of nature’s calamity,
stimulating to our base side,
beautiful as emotions rise.
simple with no defining lines —
hues of an unsettled womb, the vestiges of life.
1/11/2022
*thoughts on a Simon Bull painting
Deep in caves in Aldershot
Lives the hairy windybot
Many friends he has not got
Because he gets the wind a lot
What does he eat? I’ll tell you what
He just eats curry... really hot
So if you’re in a picnic spot
You’d better hope that he is not
For windybots they cannot smell
So when they trump they cannot tell
But when kids all go green and stiff
They know they’ve made a nasty whiff
So, for the sake of Jill and Dave
He trumps alone inside his cave
And though his trumps are not corrosive
What they are, is high explosive
It’s dark inside his cave at night
But windybot prefers the light
Alas his torch he had forgot
He struck a match, though he should not
So one match put him in a spot
When flames out of the cave mouth shot
Believe it or believe it not
There’s volcanoes in Aldershot
King Arthur
was no Siddartha
I weigh two six and twenty-tons today
Fat in unforeseen directions,
I make cars cringe, when I frolic and play
And I welcome no corrections.
Mighty fine in my well-endowed blubber,
Sassy pot-like, in my non-chic.
Whale-ish me, trice big as my mother.
Loud and proud, forgiveness don’t seek,
I have earned this fat, every little bit.
Come by and see me, if you have true grit.
See trees
Dancing free
Waving in wind
Bending to not be broke-
endurance
He packed up all his poetry, even changed his name
It'll never be as good as the name that brought him fame.
but he's here still giving updates by some guy named Sean
a dude we never heard of but heavily rely upon!
True he's never let us down anytime we call
He grins and smirks makes love to us all
talks of great friends that he's found at Soup
holds up the standards of his Cornyish group
Oh he's totally brilliant no one could surpass
Hope he figures out he's knocked us on our azz?
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