Oil from the mount of olives, used on charlies pate..Stories below in Windsor
Jeanette Archer tells, of child torture,
Murder, and rape.' Maria Farmer also does
Fiona Barnet, they do not budge.' Virginia
Roberts, got paid much..But still she died
Maybe over such? Maggie Oliver, Jon Wedger knows Kevin Annett we hear and on it goes, anthony kidman and daughter
nichole along with epstein and maxwell all
Had their roles..The F B I swore they knew
Nothing.? And with marmalade
sandwiches i think -old lizzie did quite some
bluffing?'
Now back to Isreal and olive oil..Which old
lizzie also wore.' With treasure and spoils.'
And the stone of David.? That they sit upon
Link so much to Isreal.? Its a think a thon.!!
Trump with his kipper and biden and
the rest and death rape and torture.? Hmmm.?
What do you address.? (The era of con-vid?) And your violation.? We were a pagan
Sacrifice in all the nations ( were you told never to speak i'll ?) Of its reign.? Safe and effective you could only gain.' And the groves you will worship, under all things masked.' As you revel in serfdom..And await satans mark.?
As a young boy
when not very old
I did enjoy
being told
grisly bedtime stories
by my Mother
the favourite was
none other
than
altho' I was just a nipper
Whitechapel Fishmonger Murders
perpetrated by
Jack the Kipper
Another hallowed arrow from his quivers
One of cricket’s greatest shiver givers
Coursing down your spine like rivers
Fine line..never dithers as slivers
Of adversaries hopes on the ropes..withers
Tipples tickle our livers
The latest tropes of how
Somehow…anyhow won’t kowtow
Postman Pat delivers
Matinee idol looks tease
Record books hooks please
Finds batters crannies &
Nooks with such ease
Impeccable length…metronomic
Chin music chagrin
Such strength..astronomic
Gift of getting the ball to lift
Chronic bounce…hedonic
With his swag bag of quicks tricks
Name on the adored hall of fame
Lords boards with six..another Cummins elite fix
Beat Bob Willis’s record tome of the best
Test figures for a captain at cricket’s home..
Yep..yet another done like a kipper
By this chipper ripper skipper
Who’s not found wanting
His chiselled jaw..up there for sure
With the mean hardcore
Ponting or Waugh
As the best Test baggie green
Top draw Captain (not woke...just a better bloke) seen on screen
Or that’s maybe ever been
Night wrinkles on dim hangers;
bell-bottom pants
two-toned platform shoes
a wide `kipper' tie.
In a pocket
a crumpled Kodachrome -
hot pants and velvet neck-choker.
‘Who is she?’
This closet is a time machine
I exited decades ago.
Dreaming hands part a frilled dress shirt
from its sky-blue tuxedo.
A stripy tank-top.
dances badly to ‘Brown Sugar’
damn you Mike Jagger
you created a monster.
There’s a rum and coke stain
floating like a ghost
through fading threads.
Time, now exhausted,
falls back onto a pillow
the wardrobe trembles like a Tardis
then disappears
into its blue police box
where every garb ever worn
still fits.
Who are you?
I am a hairy hippy, I glitter,
and Jesus Christ is still a Super Star.
She’s a sexy girl who won’t let me sleep.
Wire hangers rattle in the dark
a metallic laughter.
Nerves jiggle restless legs.
He chose to dine on the seas of time
to drink from Cinderella's slipper
Alas and alack, the glass did crack ~
sparkling champagne awash in kipper
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Down and puppy low.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Under miles of snow.
We love him, we love him, we want him to be fine,
Want him hanging from his legs inside the sucker's vine.
He's jungle crawling, urban sprawling,
Wedged tween grizzled stone.
The horror high windows, dark doors jackdawed,
Bus-pass rattled bones.
Dance boy dance,
in the carriage of the cage,
Run carnage round the turkey-neck track.
Sing boy sing,
Do as you should be doing,
Climb headless up the cracks of the cash sack.
A new kipper to whip,
New boy to toy with,
A new fellow in town without nowt.
Nowt but his learnings,
Big feels and small earnings,
And a small voice with which he can't shout.
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Got so far to go.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Alone in dark lane, all aglow.
If I really have to wear a tie, best it is a pure silk one.
I have seen the silken threads of a thousand moths
spun on a loom.
I have seen the nimble hands of the workers
at the loom.
The meek shall inherit.
I once had a 'kipper' tie
it was not silk.
I shall eat kippers without a tie -
perhaps tomorrow
for breakfast
on a China plate.
Amber sunrise, clouds flee
Brushing against the horizon.
Cool river's plashy bank calls.
Dawn awakes scatter rays.
End of bait string dangles,
Float swirls. First, a nibble,
Got a fish; it bit my finger
Hard and got away.
I once again cast my line
Just sat, watch, and wait.
Kipper in its depth nibbled,
Line took a tug, a splash,
Makes a dive.
Not again, it's off
Out into the open.
Pole away, oars in hand
Quiet push home.
11/2/2021
Night wrinkles on dim hangers.
Bell-bottom pants,
two-toned platform shoes,
a `kipper' tie,
unhinge from time and mind.
The closet door clicks shut.
Empty hangers swing-on in the dark,
rocked now
by the surviving members
of every rock band
that ever broke up.
[Youtube clip attached as the source of my ‘copper through your
letter box line... and because I just love the song!]
Don’t slap a copper with a kipper
Don’t catch your todger in your zipper
Don’t put the peas on if you cannot watch the pot
And if your wife should ask don’t say the weather girl is hot
And don’t play Twister with a hippo
Or light a firecracker with a zippo
Don’t date a sure bet if you’ve got holes in your socks
Don’t try to post a copper through your letter box
For that will be a squeeze but you won’t get past his boots
Don’t pull you’re little sister’s hair out by the roots
Don’t hold a bank up with a plastic BB gun
Don’t ski down K2 just because it sounds like fun
Don’t drive a Datsun in Stetson
And don’t wipe your visor with a wet one
And don’t quarrel with your wife, or venom she will hurl
She’ll say why don’t you run off with your little weather girl
And don’t dress like Lennon at a Rolling Stones revival
If you have inside your head the notion of survival
Heartstrings levered,
Your skin foliated,
We tug our veins in a last passage,
Kipper the medical syndrome,
Cancer made you the sacrificed...
I clasp my little baby boy,
His eyes are the silencer,
Let life be the sequencer,
You will remain in my storge,
Heaved in my heart.
Cancroid will flush my benign,
My water of life,
Dad will always love you.
Roy moves in grace of seasons
All the good ones gracing him
She approaches offers salaams
Did I Rui say i missed her sooo
That Smile that hidden that look
With muses were at me smiling
What better way and day to pen
Than with her on mine side now
Of stars twinkling in the lawns
Ode delights spring in gardens
Of hope and artistic ingenuity
Am blessed of the light I behold
I so so yearn its a yes and it fit
Yes it'sa real fit on tha fine finger
If you find a keeper then do this
Put a ring on it with fate smiling
Finders keepers I found a kipper
Code254
2021 Year Of Love
Return Of The MazRui'
Sailing oceans on my clipper
She was named the Song of the Sea
I'm her only female skipper
My name it is Rosie Marie
I love to hear the songs of whales
Sailing oceans on my clipper
Folks gather for to hear my tales
of a humpback known as Flipper
I would hand feed him smoked kipper
As he swam alongside my ship
Sailing oceans on my clipper
Singing was his bargaining chip
Charmed and entranced by his whale song
Crisscrossing oceans with Flipper
Loving this humpback for so long
Sailing oceans on my clipper
Written 25th January 2020
Contest: Distant Refrains
Sponsor Joseph May
4th Place
Picture 3
8 syllables per line checked with: howmanysyllables.com
Contest Strand No 670
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
A vision only my sleeping eyes
can see:
Night wrinkles on dim hangers.
Bell-bottom pants,
two-toned platform shoes,
a `kipper' tie,
unhinge from time and mind.
Then the closet door
clicks shut like a shell.
Empty hangers swing-on in the dark,
rocked now
by the surviving members
of the Rolling Stones.
One night an octopus said,
Those whelks should be in bed.
Said the herring to the plaice,
Would you please say grace.
"I say" said a passing whale,
"Is that kipper for sale."
There is somethingvery odd,
Repied a bewildered cod.
"Excuse me" asked the shark,
"Did you hear that dogfish bark".
The haddock with a smile serene,
Said the mermaid is our queen.
May I join you said the seal,
To the mackerel with some appeal.
Of course the snapper replied,
Yes,yes the mullet cried.
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