Category Archives: Poetry

On Numbers 22

Out the door with you!

You know it makes sense to go

home and drink alone.

~

n.b. …where no one can hear you scream.

Tonight I was advised that I could not sit at a pub terrace because of the weather. I could see the setting Moon in a mostly clear sky. A beautiful night to sit out with a pint, but, oh no, if it rains then I would want to go inside, I was informed and that was not allowed.

So, due to Covid regulations and the weather restrictions, I was not permitted to drink on the riverside patio. I had dressed myself with suitable clothing for an autumnal evening, with the express intention of having a drink in the fresh air. Why the Hell would I want to sit inside a pub when the heavens were on display, the air warm and a river decorated by swans ran beneath me?

And chucking out time from the pubs is 22:00 hrs because Covid-19 only operates in the dead of night, apparently. They can re-open at 05:00 hrs.

~

CLP 23/10/2020

On Numbers 530

It doesn’t matter

how many yards it is there

if it’s the wrong way

~

n.b. The old English game of twisting signposts around, or even removing them in case any odd foreign types think of invading, continues. I think some of us are beginning to realise that the reason these islands have not been invaded for such a long time, at least not overtly since the Welsh Tudors took over with the help of the French in CE 1485, is that nobody can be bothered with us…except Alexander Johnson’s Russian exile backers.

There will be some sadness as the EU waves the UK au revoir, but I am sure they have bigger fish to fry. They’ll get over it soon enough. It was a bitter-sweet affair from the start. Stuff happens; move on.

~

CLP 22/10/2020

On Numbers 6

A social sextet,

multiplied by two metres:

twelve square metres

~

n.b. I think that you’ll find pub tables ain’t quite that big…not that anyone is counting, so “one metre plus” is fine as well. I checked with the BBC.

The scientific evidence for physical distancing is published in the British Medical Journal, but it suggests we are not far enough apart. Which makes sense when you realise you can smell someone exhaling strawberry fumes from an electronic smoking device from a car park and a half distant. (What is it about those things? Why not just suck a lolly pop?).

~

CLP 21/10/2020

On Numbers 20

There is a limit

But please, don’t worry yourself

Nobody’s counting

~

n.b. Of late the UK speed limit signs have become absolutely pointless pieces of street furniture, unless you consider them to be essential props in the black humour of the living art installation that is Brexit Britain.

~

CLP 21/10/2020

On Numbers 2

Is this what you get

When splitting one evenly

Or what becomes one?

~

Factors or products? You choose.

CLP 20/10/2020

On Numbers 5

Leaves, starfish, fingers

Five is a magic number

One of the many.

~

Odd isn’t it, five? Or should we count the stalk, the wrist, the foot? Then it’s six and even.

~

CLP 19/10/2020

On Trees

Your towel is slipping

Each breath of cool breeze reveals

Stark inner beauty

~

CLP 19/10/2020

Revealing

Is it safe to ask? he asked

Ask what? she asked.

You know he said.

You’ve lost me there, she sighed.

~

She had hoped for something more direct;

straight-forward, clear

But what she heard, was what she feared

So with his faint words

He lost her there.

~

CLP 17/10/2020

On Wilful Ignorance

Without symptoms

Does not mean without virus

Don’t think otherwise

~

n.b. Familiarity breeds contempt – sometimes phrased as “loosening inhibitions.” Consent for any form of physical contact is not just a courtesy.

A show of affection may be the kiss of death. No excuses. There may not be a second chance.

~

CLP 18/10/2020

~

On the Surface vi

Talk flows naturally

Everything seems as it should.

What’s been left unsaid?

~

n.b. Is life too short to cover everything one needs to talk about?

~

CLP 17/10/2020