I’m trying to devote 5 or 10 minutes every morning to write something (anything) before the world starts going crazy. Today’s inspiration comes from J-Dubs Here.

If the moon where made of cheese

The stars might cook the bacon

In the universal garden

There’d be lettuce for the takin’

Mars would be tomato

And when Venus would awaken

There’d be bread to spread with butter

Salt and pepper to be shakin’

Dark matter for the coffee

Milky Way be not forsaken

The cosmos then would be as one

As breakfast it was makin’

Chel, is always on the lookout for new contributions of which she requires a g-ish rating (with which I sometimes struggle) and a laugh (which I try to provide but never really know if it’s a laugh with me, or at me).

Today she wanted a rant – and I genuinely planned an amusing tale about my paranoid distrust of a world that has left me behind, but it took a turn of its own and ended up at an unexpected destination. So it’s not very good and it’s not very funny.

But here it is.

*

My letter to the editor

The poison of my pen

Comes from harboured grudges

That date to way back when

The world seemed sort of organised

But I was never planned

They never saw me coming

And they’ll never understand

My letter to the editor

The measure of my scorn

Reflects a life that went downhill

From the moment I was born

My mother’s strains, the labour pains

My first sight of the nurse

Into the world, my life unfurled

Then things got so much worse.

My letter to the editor

Please find my mum and dad

And tell them of the consequence

Of good times that they had

Remind them of their coupling

Their drunken naked dance

I didn’t have a say in it

I never had a chance

My letter to the editor

Please let the postman bring

My complaints of this and that

Complaints of everything

Bad tidings of my life alone

Of which I never had a say

Please forward this to mum and dad

Then make them go away

*

Cyranny has taken control of theWord of the Day challenge and insists on using words that I have never heard of. Which is sort of annoying considering that English is not even her first language, and it’s my only one.

Jentacular???Really??? I had to look this one up too, and I still don’t really understand what it means.

Here is proof ….

*

A message of the morning

Comes over all oracular

As the first rays of the sunshine

Make the world seem so spectacular

A full day spread in front of me

Needs something sustentacular

The perfect boiled egg

Might prove to be jentacular

And I thank my God each morning

When I get all tabanacular

But I ask if He’s responsible

For the holes in my vernacular

*

I haven’t written anything here for a while. I haven’t had anything to say. I still don’t.

But I was showing a friend a little competition for the Go-Dog-Go people Here,

And he leaped for a pen and scrawled out the following.

Make of it what you will.

***

No beginnings

No ends

Just bends in space

And time

We climb

We fall

Can you recall?

Where it began

Those days when we ran

Over each hill

Searching for the future

Until

Again

We stumbled

In the rain

Upon our past

Upon our pain

Again and again

In this game

Just a pawn

Forever drawn

Into the maelstrom

Of oceans vast

Tied to the mast

Over each wave

Each wave like the last

Over and over

Playing the game

Choosing a card

Each card is the same

There’s no losing

No winning

No end

No beginning

B.M.

***