The Master - added 19/3/15
If there's a job not to be done in a hurry
If a task is best done slower than faster
If time is not of the essence
Then give it to me - for I am “The Master”
Yes, I am the Master of the Art o' Procrastination
If there's a cause to be lost
Or a distraction to be found
If you need a head in cloud cuckoo land
Or ostriched in the ground, then
I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
If there are habits to be broken
Or resolutions to be fixed
Or words to be written or spoken
Then often, I give it a miss
For I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
And when I'm pushed into a corner
By frustrated hands of the clock
I'll still find time to wonder
And while I think - I change my socks
Cos I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
If there's a poetic line to write
Or a thought to crystallise
A universal truth to be slowly uncovered
Through the fog and mist of lies
Then, I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
I can delay the start of any job
No matter how big or small
I won't bother to set thee the challenge
For I'm sure I'd beat you all
For I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
If you're in need of the emergency services
I'll confess you'd best ring 999
But call me for minor inconveniences
And I'll come round, in my own sweet time
For I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
Any unwanted journey
Any chore begging to be done
Unless it's the Tax Man or Death's in a hurry
Let's enjoy life, let’s have some fun
Let's all be Masters of the Art of Procrastination
French Invasion
Since the bloody Battle of Hastings
When 'Arold got killed by French Bill
We've seen an endless invasion of French
And I've just about had my fill
Don't we have enough words of our own
In this wonderful language of ours?
- To seek and find le mot juste
Don't take much linguistic power
It seems using French has been with us forever
Passed down as a fait accompli
Have we ever really tried to change that?
Or have we always said "C'est la vie"?
But, to think that some long-dead bon vivant
With a certain je ne sais quoi
Used his chic tour de force to put words in our mouths
To me, it's a shameful faux-pas
So, I think we need a tête-à-tête
To form a clique, to mount a coup
Working together, en masse, as a team
We'll swap "Bonsoir" for "How Do"
Then <haute couture> won't be setting the trend
We'll watch racing, not the Grand Prix
No more art nouveau, or cordon bleu
And say "Enjoy your meal", not "Bon appétit"
I never have the soup du jour
Prefer prawn cocktail to poncy pâté
And I'll sit in a coffee house or caff
But never go in a café
Some say I should let it go and relax
Say choice of words is all laissez-faire
But can I stay calm on this bête noire of mine?
No, mes amis ~ au-contraire!
At British Wimbledon let's use "40-all"
Instead of being at deuce
And what's wrong with nil instead of love
Or am I being obtuse?
---
I know that we'll get nowhere
I sense there's no going back
That it's like being stuck behind burning sheep
Trapped in a cul-de-sac
But I suppose that it is nice to share
Good ideas and a word or two
Like Liberté and Égalité
And that feeling of Déjà vu
And with le weekend, le booking, le check-in, le spam
And countless more, I say with a grin
That when we look at our counter-invasion
Even the French agree that we win!
If there's a job not to be done in a hurry
If a task is best done slower than faster
If time is not of the essence
Then give it to me - for I am “The Master”
Yes, I am the Master of the Art o' Procrastination
If there's a cause to be lost
Or a distraction to be found
If you need a head in cloud cuckoo land
Or ostriched in the ground, then
I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
If there are habits to be broken
Or resolutions to be fixed
Or words to be written or spoken
Then often, I give it a miss
For I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
And when I'm pushed into a corner
By frustrated hands of the clock
I'll still find time to wonder
And while I think - I change my socks
Cos I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
If there's a poetic line to write
Or a thought to crystallise
A universal truth to be slowly uncovered
Through the fog and mist of lies
Then, I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
I can delay the start of any job
No matter how big or small
I won't bother to set thee the challenge
For I'm sure I'd beat you all
For I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
If you're in need of the emergency services
I'll confess you'd best ring 999
But call me for minor inconveniences
And I'll come round, in my own sweet time
For I am the Master of the Art of Procrastination
Any unwanted journey
Any chore begging to be done
Unless it's the Tax Man or Death's in a hurry
Let's enjoy life, let’s have some fun
Let's all be Masters of the Art of Procrastination
French Invasion
Since the bloody Battle of Hastings
When 'Arold got killed by French Bill
We've seen an endless invasion of French
And I've just about had my fill
Don't we have enough words of our own
In this wonderful language of ours?
- To seek and find le mot juste
Don't take much linguistic power
It seems using French has been with us forever
Passed down as a fait accompli
Have we ever really tried to change that?
Or have we always said "C'est la vie"?
But, to think that some long-dead bon vivant
With a certain je ne sais quoi
Used his chic tour de force to put words in our mouths
To me, it's a shameful faux-pas
So, I think we need a tête-à-tête
To form a clique, to mount a coup
Working together, en masse, as a team
We'll swap "Bonsoir" for "How Do"
Then <haute couture> won't be setting the trend
We'll watch racing, not the Grand Prix
No more art nouveau, or cordon bleu
And say "Enjoy your meal", not "Bon appétit"
I never have the soup du jour
Prefer prawn cocktail to poncy pâté
And I'll sit in a coffee house or caff
But never go in a café
Some say I should let it go and relax
Say choice of words is all laissez-faire
But can I stay calm on this bête noire of mine?
No, mes amis ~ au-contraire!
At British Wimbledon let's use "40-all"
Instead of being at deuce
And what's wrong with nil instead of love
Or am I being obtuse?
---
I know that we'll get nowhere
I sense there's no going back
That it's like being stuck behind burning sheep
Trapped in a cul-de-sac
But I suppose that it is nice to share
Good ideas and a word or two
Like Liberté and Égalité
And that feeling of Déjà vu
And with le weekend, le booking, le check-in, le spam
And countless more, I say with a grin
That when we look at our counter-invasion
Even the French agree that we win!
Eggsciting Easter - written 23rd April, posted 19/6
I'm eggshausted and eggsasperated -
I shouldn't have eggspected less
But in fact it's eggsceded my worst eggspectations
I've had too many eggs - eaten to eggsess
I'm not one for eggsageration
I prefer to be eggsact
But, I'll eggspound and eggspress myself further
For some sympathy, I wish to eggstract
Well, I took some advice from an "eggspert"
An eggstravigant egghead, called Ed
Eggstremely eggshalted in his field of interest,
I listened. And now wish I was dead
Egged-on and eggscited by Easter
No eggscuses - I ate more than I'd planned
Inhaling chocolate was fine, it felt so divine
But when I eggshaled - I began to eggspand
Eggspelling some air, looking downwards
No eggsamination was required to eggsplain
That the shape I'd become - was an oval
Eggshaped I was - and in pain
Egg-bound - that's to say, in the house by myself
My life flashed before me just then
So hoping to prevent an eggsplosion
I clucked like an old mother hen
I knew eggsercise was a non-starter
I eggscluded that option right there
"Was I doomed to be eggsiled for the rest of my life?"
I thought, as I rolled off my chair
"No, damn it" I eggsclaimed (note - no eggspletives!)
"This eggsistance is not for me"
And though Shakespeare's Omelette is somewhat depressing
I thought "To be, or not to be"
But then, thinking of Easter and Springtime
Of bunnies, of lambs and cute sheep
With my eggsterior resembling a rotund chocolate egg
I lulled myself into sleep
I dream'd of others, who'd been there before me
Others who'd suffered my plight
Of Henry VIII's eggscommunication
Slept the rest of the day, and the night
I awoke at last, and with some relief
I found I was able to move
So eggstatic, I scrambled to my feet,
Wiped the egg off my face, just to prove
That though my life's not eggsotic
Easter Eggs do make me cheer
The Chancellor of the Eggschequer can double the tax
But I’ll do it again, every year!
I'm eggshausted and eggsasperated -
I shouldn't have eggspected less
But in fact it's eggsceded my worst eggspectations
I've had too many eggs - eaten to eggsess
I'm not one for eggsageration
I prefer to be eggsact
But, I'll eggspound and eggspress myself further
For some sympathy, I wish to eggstract
Well, I took some advice from an "eggspert"
An eggstravigant egghead, called Ed
Eggstremely eggshalted in his field of interest,
I listened. And now wish I was dead
Egged-on and eggscited by Easter
No eggscuses - I ate more than I'd planned
Inhaling chocolate was fine, it felt so divine
But when I eggshaled - I began to eggspand
Eggspelling some air, looking downwards
No eggsamination was required to eggsplain
That the shape I'd become - was an oval
Eggshaped I was - and in pain
Egg-bound - that's to say, in the house by myself
My life flashed before me just then
So hoping to prevent an eggsplosion
I clucked like an old mother hen
I knew eggsercise was a non-starter
I eggscluded that option right there
"Was I doomed to be eggsiled for the rest of my life?"
I thought, as I rolled off my chair
"No, damn it" I eggsclaimed (note - no eggspletives!)
"This eggsistance is not for me"
And though Shakespeare's Omelette is somewhat depressing
I thought "To be, or not to be"
But then, thinking of Easter and Springtime
Of bunnies, of lambs and cute sheep
With my eggsterior resembling a rotund chocolate egg
I lulled myself into sleep
I dream'd of others, who'd been there before me
Others who'd suffered my plight
Of Henry VIII's eggscommunication
Slept the rest of the day, and the night
I awoke at last, and with some relief
I found I was able to move
So eggstatic, I scrambled to my feet,
Wiped the egg off my face, just to prove
That though my life's not eggsotic
Easter Eggs do make me cheer
The Chancellor of the Eggschequer can double the tax
But I’ll do it again, every year!
Would You Not Prefer A Chair, Mrs Atwood?
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I'm sure we have one going spare
You see that pink sofa that you brought with you
Just won't quite fit up our stairs
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I see you like it on the floor
But the ground, whilst sound for bums big and round
Could make your skinny bottom just sore
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
My! That's a fetching trampoline
But whilst a bounce is good for your health
It'll turn our other guests quite green
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
You're sitting in a bowl of fruit
I'm not one to judge, or to try give advice
But squashed peaches aren't good for your suit
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
Please don't sit on the cake
I know it's delicious and the icing is firm
But it did take me hours to bake
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
That's a smashing helter-skelter
It's got to be said, though it hurts my head
It really is quite a belter, but…
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I'm wincing at your new choice of seat
That rat and mouse trap, could make your bum snap
And I've just got this place nice and neat
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
Where did you find all those balloons?
44 on each arm and your legs in a hammock
And assisted by 14 baboons?!
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
You've squeezed into a window pane
That's quite a talent, and I'm truly impressed
It's a sight I shan't see again, but
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I know it sounds boring and dull
Compared to that bouncy castle you've brought
But you see, the room's already full
Ah! Thank you for choosing a chair Mrs Atwood
Please let's make amends
I do like people with random ideas
So, let's sit together as friends
On CHAIRS Mrs Atwood, on good solid CHAIRS
Yes, let's sit together as friends
I'm sure we have one going spare
You see that pink sofa that you brought with you
Just won't quite fit up our stairs
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I see you like it on the floor
But the ground, whilst sound for bums big and round
Could make your skinny bottom just sore
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
My! That's a fetching trampoline
But whilst a bounce is good for your health
It'll turn our other guests quite green
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
You're sitting in a bowl of fruit
I'm not one to judge, or to try give advice
But squashed peaches aren't good for your suit
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
Please don't sit on the cake
I know it's delicious and the icing is firm
But it did take me hours to bake
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
That's a smashing helter-skelter
It's got to be said, though it hurts my head
It really is quite a belter, but…
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I'm wincing at your new choice of seat
That rat and mouse trap, could make your bum snap
And I've just got this place nice and neat
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
Where did you find all those balloons?
44 on each arm and your legs in a hammock
And assisted by 14 baboons?!
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
You've squeezed into a window pane
That's quite a talent, and I'm truly impressed
It's a sight I shan't see again, but
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I know it sounds boring and dull
Compared to that bouncy castle you've brought
But you see, the room's already full
Ah! Thank you for choosing a chair Mrs Atwood
Please let's make amends
I do like people with random ideas
So, let's sit together as friends
On CHAIRS Mrs Atwood, on good solid CHAIRS
Yes, let's sit together as friends
5 Miles to Home (written for the Milestone Society)
When I'm out walking and hiking free
A milestone is often a friend to me
They're solid reminders of where you are
And t’ next point of interest, they tell you how far
But I’ve noticed something when around I do roam -
That I've never seen one that says "5 miles to Home"
I've seen "5 miles to Bradford" and "Leeds - 5 mile"
But a "5 miles to Home" one, would make me smile
So I’ve looked for them everywhere, up and down vale
Searched each nook and cranny - but still I did fail
I had to ponder real hard and ask myself "why?"
Surely a "5 miles to Home sign" in't pie-in-the-sky
So I dug out some map books - no sign there too
And that was the key, it gave me a clue
Of course! Those milestone makers had the nouse
Not to make signs sending all to their house
They avoided the chaos, they mastered their art
And they have won my admiration
And if we're wanting confusion, hassle and woes
We've got Satellite Navigation!
A milestone is often a friend to me
They're solid reminders of where you are
And t’ next point of interest, they tell you how far
But I’ve noticed something when around I do roam -
That I've never seen one that says "5 miles to Home"
I've seen "5 miles to Bradford" and "Leeds - 5 mile"
But a "5 miles to Home" one, would make me smile
So I’ve looked for them everywhere, up and down vale
Searched each nook and cranny - but still I did fail
I had to ponder real hard and ask myself "why?"
Surely a "5 miles to Home sign" in't pie-in-the-sky
So I dug out some map books - no sign there too
And that was the key, it gave me a clue
Of course! Those milestone makers had the nouse
Not to make signs sending all to their house
They avoided the chaos, they mastered their art
And they have won my admiration
And if we're wanting confusion, hassle and woes
We've got Satellite Navigation!
I Wish I'd Had Candy Floss
In memory of those sunny summer and indecisive days of childhood at
Batley and Dewsbury Parks.
At the side of the van with a window
In the park
I've a decision to make
Should I get an ice rocket,
or a cider lolly,
a fab, a funny feet,
or a 99 with a flake?
Candy floss!
The thought flashes and dies
Before I can grasp it
Then my eyes fix on my younger brothers ice cream in it's cone
Mum made his choice for him
as he sits in his pram
My cousins have all made up their minds
and so have our mums, so
BAM!
Suddenly they're waiting for me
Now I have to choose,
Whatever I pick will be eaten in no time
Whatever I pick, I'll lose
I can never make it last,
Not under these blue skies
I want it to, but a voice says
"Eat it quick or it'll melt"
Or "don't you wanna play on the slide?"
Candy floss!
Again the thought was there
But then, how long has that sticky bright pink stuff been there
in it's sad little bag?
Could be 5 minutes, or 5 days.
Do I care? - Er, no!
I LOVE the feeling of eating a cloud,
Even though it's probably stickier, gooier,
and pinker than owt that's up there
Maybe real clouds would also make our fingers glue together
and taste that sweet when you finally get the last mouthful
off your thumb
Dunno.
But I suppose the bag is there to stop the wasps
And the bees
And we've not seen any of them today
So let's be grateful
Safer with an ice cream or a lolly.
Aw, but candy floss!
Then I remember an adult's whisper. Something about 'E' numbers.
And somehow,
I don't really know how,
I've a chosen a 99 - a fine choice I'm told.
No doubt with eyes rolling
Dunno.
'Cos I was right - it's gone too soon
Mostly eaten, but a dribble down my elbow
How did it get down there?
But then me brother has tell-tale white all round his face
and mum is going towards him armed with a tissue and spit
And at least I still have my flake!
But candy floss would've been better.
I tell myself, NEXT time, I'll get candy floss.
But I know, I won't really.
The Word Gremlin
You're in the middle of the piece
You're really on a roll
You've mastered every syllable
And built it to a whole
Every intonation,
Every stress is well rehearsed
You know it inside out and back-to-front
Each chorus and each verse
You even know it side-ways
You've swum through every part
Can add to it your character
Your voice, your mind, your heart
Any lazy alliteration
You can smooth over with a grace
And you can speed it up or slow_right_down
And with comfort, set the pace
Just then, in the smallest pause
The Word Gremlin sneaks in
And quickly digs his sharpened claws
Right into your thick skin
You feel a nip, a tiny pinch
Which you wish you could ignore
But you know fine well what's coming
As the claws begin to bore
You're shocked and stunned
And your brain's begun to panic - who can blame it?
It thought you knew, but now you're screwed
And knocked right off your game
It'll steal that word right from your tongue
Then dance around with glee
Or he'll hide it from you like an imp
And just sit and smirk at thee
How did that gremlin get so close?
Did it dash in during t'laughter?
Was it hiding before we got in here
Under a table or on the rafters?
I don't know how the beast gets in
I'll find his secret soon,
For now, I say let's work together
And check often round the room
Whoever let that b*stard in
If you know who you are
Buy a pint for each poor sod he got
And keep HIM busy at the bar!
You're in the middle of the piece
You're really on a roll
You've mastered every syllable
And built it to a whole
Every intonation,
Every stress is well rehearsed
You know it inside out and back-to-front
Each chorus and each verse
You even know it side-ways
You've swum through every part
Can add to it your character
Your voice, your mind, your heart
Any lazy alliteration
You can smooth over with a grace
And you can speed it up or slow_right_down
And with comfort, set the pace
Just then, in the smallest pause
The Word Gremlin sneaks in
And quickly digs his sharpened claws
Right into your thick skin
You feel a nip, a tiny pinch
Which you wish you could ignore
But you know fine well what's coming
As the claws begin to bore
You're shocked and stunned
And your brain's begun to panic - who can blame it?
It thought you knew, but now you're screwed
And knocked right off your game
It'll steal that word right from your tongue
Then dance around with glee
Or he'll hide it from you like an imp
And just sit and smirk at thee
How did that gremlin get so close?
Did it dash in during t'laughter?
Was it hiding before we got in here
Under a table or on the rafters?
I don't know how the beast gets in
I'll find his secret soon,
For now, I say let's work together
And check often round the room
Whoever let that b*stard in
If you know who you are
Buy a pint for each poor sod he got
And keep HIM busy at the bar!
Very Berry (or some Ribes in Rhyme)
There's Blackberry, Blueberry,
Northern, Bog and simple Bilberry
Lowbush, Highbush and Mountain Cranberry,
Chokeberry, Dewberry, Elderberry, Guavaberry
Bearberry, Cowberry, Crowberry, Foxberry,
Gooseberry and Mooseberry
Huckleberry, Jostaberry, Lingonberry, Loganberry,
Myrtle Blueberry, Pineberry, Black Raspberry,
Red Whortleberry, Squashberry, Tayberry,
Whinberry and Wimberry
Yes, I've written a poem about berries,
But please don't think I'm a prat
'Cos Lennon sang "Strawberry Fields forever"
And who can argue with that?!
There's Blackberry, Blueberry,
Northern, Bog and simple Bilberry
Lowbush, Highbush and Mountain Cranberry,
Chokeberry, Dewberry, Elderberry, Guavaberry
Bearberry, Cowberry, Crowberry, Foxberry,
Gooseberry and Mooseberry
Huckleberry, Jostaberry, Lingonberry, Loganberry,
Myrtle Blueberry, Pineberry, Black Raspberry,
Red Whortleberry, Squashberry, Tayberry,
Whinberry and Wimberry
Yes, I've written a poem about berries,
But please don't think I'm a prat
'Cos Lennon sang "Strawberry Fields forever"
And who can argue with that?!