Without my partner, our kids, mates, and family,
I'd be lost, adrift, no direction.
Literally up the creek without a paddle.
What would I do?
How would we navigate alone?
So many wrong choices we'd inevitably make.
No advice to steer us through life's storms,
No support in moments of doubt.
Who'd be there to listen,
To offer a shoulder, a kind word?
It's hard to fathom,
How I'd manage without that network.
Especially when strangers are just that,
Unknown, uncertain.
Without yours,
What would you do?
What would you do?
If it wasn't for my Partner and kids,
My Mates and family too,
I'd be up the creek without a paddle,
Literally,
What would I do?
How would we go about things alone?
So many wrong choices that we'd choose.
We'd have neigh on no advice,
Through any situation,
To help us get through.
Who'd be there for us,
To open up and talk to?
I really don't know what i'd do.
Especially when strangers,
you dont know are true.
If it wasn't for yours,
What would 'you' do?
When you find yourself stuck in a corner
You will turn and see rules spread all over
Soon be lost in the shuffle
Up the creek with no paddle
Missed the boat like a fish out of water
On March the 5th I wrote a poem –
The title was “Dear Jill,”
Which was a plea that maybe
The First Lady would help fill.
Of course, she never saw it
And my quest was not unique,
But had she followed common sense,
We’d not be up the creek.
The paddles now must be controlled
By a dynamic team
Which maybe, just 4 months ago,
Would’ve had a bit more steam.
Yet there’s a chance the tide will turn
And folks will recognize
This country needs a leader
Spreading dignity, not lies.
.
I'm in the pickle mine
Think
This morn mine palate
In concert with
Mine maws
the empanadas
hern dulce
Mine thank you waved
She winked
This noon
Whilst enjoying the
Spring's cool wet
the naiad
the naiad
think
There once was a man whose thoughts he would speak
Each time the police were called to the freak
Got himself arrested
For what he suggested
Last time he was sent off to Devil's Creek.
(FND awareness)
Functional Neurological Disorder
Sounds far more serious than required.
However, life now makes more sense.
That's how it is. It's the way I'm wired.
I thought I had a medical "epsy"
Due to crazy symptoms that make one tired.
It's good to know it's only FND.
It's not my fault. It's the way I'm wired.
The structural hardware works just fine.
(An explanation I've now hired...)
The wiring itself is up the creek,
So the wrong signals get fired.
Why have I come in here?
My memory has expired!
Yet, suddenly I remember that
It's down to the way I'm wired.
There's never a dull moment.
So much humour can be inspired!
There's many a joke that can be told
About the way I'm wired.
Our Border Is A Complete Disaster
Miracle Man
September 19, 2023
Each day that passes brings this country more grief,
and migrants coming illegally will be allowed to stay.
From this humanitarian crisis we’re getting no relief,
and the billions its costing, those here must pay.
We helplessly stand observing our population grow,
without any resolve to stop those rushing our borders.
Progressive socialist preach, no need to control the flow,
current leadership should all be given marching orders.
We’re living in a time when our work ethic is weak,
and changing of the guard has let morals skedaddle.
Being truthful and God fearing we dare not bespeak,
which leaves us far up the creek without a paddle.
I can no longer touch my toes
Or stop an unexpected runny nose,
It has become an issue
To find a handkerchief or tissue.
My loo has moved
I am not sure
It seems farther away than it was before
I often have to try to run
Before I realised what I'd done.
I now have a shower chair
Where I bathe and wash my hair
I mutter to myself all-day
I hope nobody can hear the things I say.
My grey matter is fading fast,
I wonder how long it will last
My social life is up the creek
As I am at the Doctors every week.
A specialist sent me to the gym
To strengthen my muscles
To help improve the state I'm in
You would laugh if you could see
The aerobic ancient Old Duck me.
I now row a machine
That's never been
Near water
I walk on a treadmill
Although I falter.
The weights I can't lift very high
Perhaps next session,
I'll have a better try,
I love the exercise bike.
I can travel anywhere
I like.
Even though I don't move
My imagination improves
As I cycle down the country lane
I feel like a girl again.
This poem belongs to me
I'm the Queen of poetry
With my pen poised in the air
I scribe words that can compare
With any poet
How do I know it?
I show it,
I sit here with pen in hand
No other poet felt so grand
As me
When I write poetry
My punctuation is up the creek,
But people still listen when I speak
It doesn't matter what I write
As long as it's not full of trite
How can that be
When the poet is me.
I do not bother with big words,
As long as the words are heard
That's good
Anyway my vocabulary
It is limited, as you can see
We all have limitations
And assorted imaginations.
I am pleased to say
That poetry is better that way,
How boring (YAWN) that would be
Especially one grand as me
If we all wrote the same
Shame
Shame, Shame indeed
All poets write to fill a need
For everyone who reads
Poetry
Of any kind
I have put my pen down,
And next to it, I've placed my crown,
My family are calling me
Where are you, Mum? We're hungry!
The other day I got a flyer
Because I am a frequent flier
And, as you have already guessed
It said I was an 'honoured guest'
In fact, the 'most important one'
And a 'special prize' I had won
I gasped out loud, my breath did bate
And of course, I took the bait
Must be a diamond! (at least a carat)
So l ate the dangled carrot
Newsletters and ads I signed up for
Promotional emails, at least four
Well! I laughed myself completely hoarse
It seems I'd won a bloody horse!
I fell down in shock upon my humerus
The situation no longer humorous
My heart sank low weighed down like lead...
It seems it's up the creek I've been led
Up the creek without a paddle?
Writer's block causing distress?
Get back up on the saddle
Ride the stream of consciousness!
7/16/2022
Designed using elements from canva.com
Stream of consciousness is a literary style in which a writer’s thoughts, feelings, and reactions are depicted in a continuous flow uninterrupted by objective description or conventional dialogue. Even though the result may not always be worthy of publishing, the process can be an effective means to break through writer’s block, yielding fresh ideas that can be developed at a later time.
Once I wrote a verse about an earthquake in the town
I also wrote in detail of a comet coming down
How many words of war and peace have issued from my pen
I wrote a superhero gran and then wrote her again
I’ve written words to make you laugh and some to make you cry
With lots of words about the bold and some about the shy
And when I had to find a word that rhymed well with Venus
I found a way to skip the awkward thought that passed between us
And yet I sit here now and cannot write a single letter
I feel as though I’m ailing and I hope I’ll soon be better
How can a pen so bountiful be so devoid of ink
How can a mind so fruitful find it difficult to think
How could I write an ode a day but now not one a week
It seems I’m in a trough and I shall never find a peak
I know I’m not alone and that the words I long to speak
Will spring forth very soon… or else I’m really up the creek
There was a time when I was at my best
I can recall no question about my success,
Now I have reached the stage called rest
The time in life when I’ve earned a recess,
I must admit I am no longer at my peak
My production rate is so much slower,
I find I am without a paddle up the creek
The quality of my work is considerably lower.
Still, I press on to make my contribution
Hoping to make a worthy impression
I believe there is for me no substitution
I’ll continue to labor under this fine illusion,
And someday when this old game is over
I’ll take my earnings in four-leaf clover.
written October 10, 2021
Although its been snowing all week
I can see two dogs up the creek
Despite the weather
They stuck together
Until one of them sprung a leak
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