A squirrel booked a spa day, fed up with all the treetop riff-raff;
he stretched out in our garden mud, declaring it a “mineral luxury bath.”
big spin
win again
in like Flynn
hodgepodge dodge
slash bash
mishmash
sycophants
chants rants
seat-of-the-pants
riff-raff
grift graft
craft
debate obfuscate
obligate
alienate
annoy enjoy
deploy
destroy
curtail assail
derail …
pray tell ?
Cutesy Petootsie Christmas Elf had skinny legs
But enormous boots, that made her legs look like pegs
She had a pretty smile, great attitude and gorgeous laugh
She was our favorite Christmas Elf ever, said my cousin Raff.
It's oh so, so simple with
lightness of step
lightness of heart,
time to linger
time to reflect-
past, present, and future meld
ignoring the dross, riff-raff,
the rabble and babble,
for no rational reason
on some days
I'm simply, happy!
Curses! You woke my Simon Bar Sinister!
Cuz, you fondled Miss Sweet Polly's Purebred!
I'm not gonna tolerate this Riff Raff no more!
Now, you'll deal with the Mighty Underdog's lead!
So, no Shoeshine Boy today little boy!
Go on and call your Cad Lackey, he's cranky!
You're just one more of those Little Rascals!
You're all gonna get a spanking from Spanky!
Their ma & pa were Eastenders
Blah blah..don’t remember the Blitz
Brash Cockney pretenders..same flash apparel
Let's get our mitts on a stash of Aperol spritz
Dimwits just going on benders
Bawdy tawdry mockney skits
Gits getting off their t*ts
Twits showing off their bits
Who fits?..Identikit Brits..pout
All about the clout of gaudy glitz
Silhouettes of stiletto dancers & handbags
Riff raff as naff as an 80’s cornetto
Perms & permatans..sl*gs..fancy dans in glad rags
Rhyming slang falsetto twang libretto
Chancers on a stag..s*ag nip & tuck hags
Nags of WAGS made up to the nines
Brag after cocaine lines did blag
One snag..look like a dag in drag
All from the fashion label stable
No restraint.. cannot refrain
Grandstand the brands fable
Diadora diaspora ..Fila Villa
With a Pierre Cardin Jardin
Taint just like they do in Spain
Sex..success…the way you dress
Prosecco fizz...getting in a tizz
Gilded specs and builded pecs
Greed and that need to impress
Avoid don't feed this schadenfreude hell
That is indeed called Costa Del ESSEX
Less is more for it opens our heart’s door,
whence simply by choosing not to resist,
blissful in the boat God Himself does oar,
free from mundane riff-raff, no to-do list,
in staid stillness, we become a bliss mist,
whereupon all illusions fall away
and we see the light of Self, clear as day.
Straying away from the straight path
in search of sumptuous grass,
Me and my friends meander to the mountain top
on a crisp clear sunny day,
The cottony white clouds mirror our soft tufts of wool,
The sea is calm today, unlike us, who are restless;
Raff rests his weary head on Walter,
Sophie and Sara lay down side by side,
While Nero dares to stare at the 'deserter' in defiance...
We don't know where to go, what to do,
And so we wander around,
What if we fall down the ravine?
I am scared and edge back,
Whereas Nero and Terry fearlessly forage for food,
Browny wishes to follow them against my warning,
Most of my friends group together,
What next? Where is our leader?
I don't know, we have no idea,
We're all looking for our lost shepherd to lead us...
...back to safety
Can a song be so sad it becomes beautiful?
A record listened to with such incessance
Its needle scratches and wobbles
Becomes desperate new notes for the melody?
The song unrecognizable to the listener
Without its own personalized warp
From a thousand roundabout journeys?
Try
Hurrah For The Riff Raff’s Good Time Blues (An Outlaw’s Lament)
Or their Ogallala
Try on Steve Earle’s Last Words
Or St. Vincent’s Smoking Section
All these songs make me turn my head
And cry
When I’m around others
Otherwise if I’m all alone
I stare ahead in stoned silence
No Expectations is another
Mick and Keith say that day in the studio
Was the last time
They ever saw blurry-eyed original Brian Jones
Alive
Bent over his guitar with his steel finger slide
Finding and gliding his long long regrets
Up and down his bent strings
As the boy watched his peace of mind packed up
For the last time
Adding his own final warped words
From a piece of steel to carved hollow wood
His swan song for the Stones
That Keith and Mick thought they wrote
Made his own
Immortal
And beautiful.
The ocean is a wild beast that I approach cautiously.
I submit to its undertow. It makes me laugh expansively.
I dive in, never turn my back, never quite relaxing.
It wants to rush at me, my irises on pins and needles.
A wave becomes a wall, tugs sand from my soles.
Joyful duet of wind and surf, salt and coconut oil.
I’d run from your potent power, when you’re enraged.
But I feel coddled, serene in your sweet rock’n lullaby.
pay attention, don’t be flippant.
hurricane fool’s gold
color of its eye’s smart
furious body
with draconic scales that chew
up a crew, its sails with ship
bodies buried, some scoundrels survive.
allows for great whites
to float under the riff raff
afloat for seconds
humorous gaff of the sea
its tenderized meat
hidden away in God’s shadow, a treasure.
sweet rock’n lull’by
for one who respects elders
Moses’ mother prays
as zephyr-salt, warm blue skies
gently guide love back to shore
Cat Café had an extraordinary chef, Raff McRayley
Pick your own fish, he told his customers daily
I can fillet them, fry them, sauté’ them or dry them.
Daddy Cat said, “I just want a taste, I want to try them.”
“I like them raw, said Buck the Cat, swallowing three.
That was expensive! Said the sou chef, Mrs. Bree-Lee.
Daddy cat said, “I thought a taste would be free.”
“it would have been, but by cracky, your son ate three!”
Luanda 1975
It was a fraught time in Luanda, the rebel army (freedom fighters)
was closing in on Luanda, leaving civilians exposed
to rape, murder and pillage.
The Portuguese army had dastardly skulked away and
General Spinola was in Lisbon playing politics
Colonialism was over, but there was fear of its ending
when hatred had to be sated.
Among the white population, there was a fatalistic mien
drowning their fear like the sinking Titanic, loud music, booze
and dancing, everything to live a little longer.
Then came the Germans (foreign legion) took charge
staved off the incoming, undisciplined riff-raff army
long enough for people to get on ships and planes to get
the hell out; as for the Germans found their way out to
South Africa.
The aftermath:
When hatred of the colonials subsided, the new Angola
found they needed the know-how of the settlers they
were invited back.
Today, thousands of Portuguese live to thrive in harmony
with the black population,
Henri de Touulouse -Latrec
a painter with a body a wreck
Known for mixing with riff-raff
in local bars & 'caff'
I’ve been a resident at ole Soup Creek for a while now,
For the most part, it’s a great town with folk from all over.
But through years, I've seen riff raft come here too,
I never cared too much about them; just ask Rover.
The fine citizens of this town will band together to drive,
out anyone who doesn't have our best interest at heart.
Each person plays a part in keeping the peace and harmony,
I knew that about this place right from the very start.
So if you aim to stir seeds of discord, lies, and the like,
Please, Mr, Mam, Sir, or whatever name you go by.
Can you please do me a favor and take a hike,
Soup Creek doesn’t need rift raft like you goodbye.
In case you wondered about Rover, he’s my best friend,
A German Shephard who’ll be with me until the end.
05/25/2022
Alexis Y.
Hello, cucarachas, whether large or small;
I can't stand the ones that fly or the ones that crawl.
I've got a place for you to spend your days and nights:
You don't need to win this trip on "The Price is Right".
Fill up your cars with gas and prepare to drive
6,000 miles of road before the clock strikes five.
Make your reservations quick and book your lovely rooms;
Little do they realize, they just sealed their doom.
Welcome to Hotel Cucaracha;
It's a lovely place where we crush your face.
Relax at Hotel Cucaracha;
Time to say, "Good-bye!" You're about to die!
The cucarachas came, but they were unaware
Of that repugnant odor, a funky stench in the air.
Then they heard a hissing sound and were sorely afraid;
These bugs fell to the ground 'cause they were sprayed with Raid.
No more cucarachas or their lousy riff-raff;
I threw them in the garbage and did my "Thriller" laugh.
Let this be a lesson, and you better take heed:
You can check in anytime you want, but you will never leave!
(Cue "Thriller" laugh)
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