Wadda day

Sun’s out,

Breeze zephyric.

Blowies buzz,

It’s sylvatic.


Indian summer,

is what it’s called.

When summer’s over,

will we ball?*

With blowies gone, all disappeared

Not droning on in my left my ear.


* to cry uncontrollably


Calm Morning – WordPress Stats

Weather has returned to flacid,

Misty morn at summertime.

If there’s a breeze it’s soft and placid,

While searching for a tortured rhyme.


Sense my thoughts disintegrating,

Can’t place two words in clear sequence.

Seeking wordpress increased ratings,

Viewership and click frequence.


As I daily watch my stats,

They are static and quite stuck.

When challenged, “do you give a rats?”

I reply ” Don’t give a fuck.”

Finland …

………… for many years maintained a fiction

With neighbour of complete different diction.

Whose strategy was most warlike

Finland the victim of nuke first strike.



Then long comes the Ukraine, “special operation”,

A war launched after lengthy gestation

Ukraine felt just like Robinson Crusoe

Trying to enter NATO cause their phobia is Russo.*

* thc is deeply indebted to correspondent for SV for this inspiration


Finland found in northern climes,

Its church bells clang and then they chime.

Happiness is at its core,

Their folks seem not to want for more.


Dour looking folk who don’t say much,

Are educated not to judge.

Bought to world of social phobia,

The mobile phone called the nokia.

Beating Up

Today the air has buzzing sounds, propellers going round and round,

Sometimes the clouds of moisture made are ripped to shreds ‘copter by blades.

Can’t tell the path by which they come, as I sit here on my bum,

As soon as reverberations fade away I can get on with my day.

Ruminating ’bout many things, my mind is fraught by thoughts on wings,

By slights I’ve given, and families riven, by stuff I’ve said yet unforgiven

As I grow older, care less about, gen x stuff their boring shouts.

Recall when I was at their age, the hardest thing, to turn the page.