Mad as a hatter is a phrase that came naturally about
In the eighteen hundreds hatmakers were going insane
Using mercuric nitrate, which removed skin from pelts
A poison that had them acting funny, going postal
Another phrase that came along much later
In deference to postal workers who went insane
From the mundane repetitiveness of their jobs.
5th of November
Bonfire night
Why is it we remember
Guy fawkes set it alight
5th of November
Anti establishmentarian
Parliament a burning ember
Observance of many puritans
A plot was foiled
To blow up house of Lords
Guy fawkes plan spoiled
With dynamite and swords
Nowadays celebrated by a bonfire
The release of fireworks
Pay homage to the people's sire
I think it's berserk
Not a party pooper
Loud bangs scare this writer
Also animals can scatter
Guy fawkes was mad as a hatter
His attempt to overthrow was thwarted
Stood by dynamite he was caught
Sentenced to death and live in the tower
That's what happen if you go against power
Nothing really has changed
We're still locked up in chains
Speak out or scream and shout
You will be banned or taken out
No more posting on social media
You end up arrested for schizophrenia
The world nowadays hazy gone crazy
Smoke screens and lies make it hazy
Back to topic Guy fawkes
Never allowed to enter talks
He wasn't happy with the Lords
So got his rebels and drew thier swords
This is the story of Norm and Nate,
And Hank Williams, the great balladeer,
And what was to be their horrible fate
As they spun on this rotating sphere.
Nate the needle played hits on a platter,
Spinning the sad songs Norm had made him.
Norm, as they’d say, was mad as a hatter,
But Nate the needle meekly obeyed him.
In a circle, the platter would revolve
As Nate would sing sad sounds he found there,
While Norm, crying bitter tears, would dissolve,
As Hank’s words and voice, he couldn’t bear.
Hank’s million-dollar voice came from on high,
But the Lord gave him a 10-cent head.
He wrote the song, “So Lonesome I Could Cry”
Lamenting leaves that would soon be dead.
On New Year’s, ‘53, Hank Williams died;
Norm could play only that song and not move.
Hank saw the light, while Norm cried and cried,
And Nate was buried in a watery groove.
In spite of my advancing years
One thing always remains consistent
My joy for life, love and happiness
The blues are almost nonexistent
Why was I chosen to be the lucky soul
With this devil-may-care attitude
While others can't seem to catch a break
Every day they're screwed and tattooed
Is it just the luck of the draw
Do we really have a say in the matter
You can surely bet your sweet bippy we do
Betcha think I'm mad as a hatter
Where did that silly old saying originate
What is a mad hatter anyway
Must be from the dark ages methinks
Don't hear of those guys nowadays
Okay, seems I've drifted a bit off the track
To get back to my love of life
Guess I'll just let the good times roll
Jump up and yell, “life's a slice!”
Why was I chosen to be the lucky soul
With this devil-may-care attitude
While others can't seem to catch a break
Every day they're screwed and tattooed
Is it just the luck of the draw
Do we really have a say in the matter
You can surely bet your sweet bippy we do
Betcha think I'm mad as a hatter
Where did that silly old saying originate
What is a mad hatter anyway
Must be from the dark ages methinks
Don't hear of those guys nowadays
Okay, seems I've drifted a bit off the track
To get back to my love of life
Guess I'll just let the good times roll
“Jump up and yell, “life's a slice!”
In spite of my advancing years
One thing always remains consistent
My joy for life, love and happiness
The blues are almost nonexistent
Why was I chosen to be this lucky soul
With this devil-may-care attitude
While others can't seem to catch a break
Every day they're screwed and tattooed
Is it just the luck of the draw
Do we really have a say in the matter
You can surely bet your sweet bippy we do
Betcha think I'm mad as a hatter
Where did that silly old saying originate
What is a mad hatter anyway
Must be from the dark ages methinks
Don't hear of those guys nowadays
Okay, seems I've drifted a bit off the track
To get back to my love of life
Guess I'll just let the good times roll
“Jump up and yell, “life's a blast!”
A summer’s morn, dark skies, forlorn.
Burning, smoking, California cities, this August morn,
Our state with illegal, infected people overrun.
We think the virus is just plain fun?
Mad as a hatter, Governor Newsom calls now
for Afghan refugees?
And what.......to live in beauteous tent cities. where
crime lurks.....what a pity!
Hope Californians recall this madman and foppish
immoral jerk!
With greaseball hair and his insidious,eternal
brainless, eternal smirk!
8/18/2021
10am PST
Bonkers you say
Why yes indeed i think i am
And i've got a certificate
signed off personally by the
Dean
Of Straight Jacket University
LaLa Land to prove it
Top of my class
A+ grade student
Mad as a hatter
Failed every test with honours
So who better qualified than i
to be elected President elect
And preside over a parliament
of tea party fairytale characters
And to provide me with the allusion
of appearing sane
And invoke an insanity plea defense
I met a guy in the dairy section of my local grocery store
He was carrying an over-the-shoulder, leather purse
He had a purple scarf around his neck, what could be worse?
The fellow was driving a great big, black funeral hearse!
A buxom young lady was shopping in the produce aisles
I could have sworn she had had extensive lipo-suction
Her enormous biceps were a work under construction
She had three children with her, an obvious deduction.
I moved on to the meat department and stood watching
An old lady maneuvering an enormous motorized grip
Ordered a butcher to cut her a three-pound New York strip
While she was waiting she did a perfect backward, reverse flip.
Tell me, before I go stark raving, mad-as-a-hatter crazy
I am jumping too quickly to unwarranted conclusions
That after what I saw I should immediately go into seclusion
It only seems that way; clearly, I am victim of my own delusions.
Written March 18, 2021
Submitted to Kai Michael Neumann’s
“It Only Seems That Way” contest
In this Ordinary Swoon
by Michael R. Burch
In this ordinary swoon
as I pass from life to death,
I feel no heat from the cold, pale moon;
I feel no sympathy for breath.
Who I am and why I came,
I do not know; nor does it matter.
The end of every man’s the same
and every god’s as mad as a hatter.
I do not fear the letting go;
I only fear the clinging on
to hope when there’s no hope, although
I lift my face to the blazing sun
and feel the greater intensity
of the wilder inferno within me.
Keywords-Tags-Hashtags: life and death, heat, fire, inferno, passion, cold, coolness, breath, purpose of life, god, religion, hope, sun, moon, winter, sunset, visionary
computer madness sonnet
computer madness infects my soul
every day when I turn on my PC
and encounter endless haiku error messages
constant crashing, constant eating my files
at times like this it seems to me
that my mad as a hatter crazed computer
is plotting against me and only me
it wants to drive me quite insane
sending me right around the bend
as I scream at my machine
it beeps at me this damn machine
smiling as I threaten once again
to shoot the hell bound machine
sonnet all poetry computer frustration contest
In spite of my advancing years
One thing always remains constant
My joy for life, love and happiness
The blues are almost nonexistent
Why was I chosen to be the lucky soul
With this devil-may-care attitude
While others can't seem to catch a break
Every day they're screwed and tattooed
Is it just the luck of the draw
Do we really have a say in the matter
You can surely bet your sweet bippy we do
Betcha think I'm as mad as a hatter
Where did that silly old saying originate
What is a mad hatter anyway
Must be from the dark ages methinks
Don't hear of those guys nowadays
Okay, seems I've drifted a bit off the track
To get back to my love of life
Guess I'll just let the good times roll
“Jump up and yell, “life's a slice!”
In this ordinary swoon
as I pass from life to death,
I feel no heat from the cold, pale moon;
I feel no sympathy for breath.
Who I am and why I came,
I do not know; nor does it matter.
The end of every man’s the same
and every god’s as mad as a hatter.
I do not fear the letting go;
I only fear the clinging on
to hope when there’s no hope, although
I lift my face to the blazing sun
and feel the greater intensity
of the wilder inferno within me.
We drove all day on dusty roads to Xian
in the Shaanxi province
to see the clay men.
The army is deployed in large archaeological pits.
Our guide, a Chinese beauty, marshals us from the front
like any good general.
Her voice is a dulcet lagoon
in this desiccated place.
We all notice that her silk cheongsam
clings to her embroidered,
peach of a bottom.
The arsenic-poisoned emperor died as mad as a hatter,
believing a metalloid would grant him endless life.
It`s difficult to tell if his megalomania arrived
before his craziness, or after
but they buried him deep where insanity is timeless.
As we file out, I look back.
The clay spear carriers
the foot soldiers, the dusty officers
even the horses,
all of them seem to be stifling smirks -
their eyes latched upon
a heavenly peach, no doubt.
I didn’t do it, I swear to you;
I would not intentionally, that much is true.
A bat flew in here,
and showed me its rear,
into a stew, I flew.
I know that you want to talk,
so at that, I will not balk.
Your TP’s in tatters,
I’m mad as a hatter,
while that guilty bat, just walks!
Oh, the window is closed, I see;
why do I feel, I must flee?
I’ve run out of excuses,
it’s either the fault of my muses,
or my alternate personality.
Okay, so I am a bad cat;
that is the end of that.
I flew into a frenzy,
tore up TP intensely,
I confess, there was no bat.
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