A Reptile Dysfunction

Explorers who first reached the Nile

Soon came upon a crocodile

Whose improprieties lay steeped in lore.

The wily reptile would beguile

An out-of-towner with a smile

Belying a betrayal at its core.

Dear friend, I wish to welcome you!

How was the road from Timbuktu?

Come near that I may hear what news you bear…

In truth, the beast had had its fill

Of horns and hooves and ibis bills

And thus, resolved to seek more tender fare.

The wayfarer, now curious

Despite all signs injurious

Would take the bait, not wishing to be rude

Recounting tales of spitting snakes

Of feuding sheikhs and salted lakes

And bartering with Bedouins for food.

Then we must feast! the creature cried

If you will let me be your guide

We’ll cross to where the spoils are most exotic.

It’s just offshore, a pleasant ride

Do climb aboard and sit astride!

And voyage with me into the aquatic.

To eat one friend is impolite

To eat two speaks of appetite

To eat them all may lead to the odd question.

But be it large or small amounts

To some it’s what’s inside that counts   

A thought our croc is currently digesting.

Poets Cornered

I was recently interviewed by Paul Szlosek for his blog: The International Imaginarium for Word & Verse. Paul is an American author (Paul’s Poetry Playgroundhttps://playground.poetry.blog) and photographer (Paul’s Wonderful Word of Color https://thewonderfulworldofcolor77109243.wordpress.com) who stumbled across my poetry and wanted to chat about it.

The photo used in the article was snapped by one of my students waaaaaaaaaay back in 2007 when I was teaching at a university in Ukraine. It’s all about the shirt.

Anyway, here’s the link:

https://internationalimaginarium.blogspot.com/2022/07/the-international-imaginarium-for-word.html

Mass Hysteria

In Physics, nothingness has weight

Which leads to some disquiet

Among the more dense who debate:

So, why then do we diet?

Tudor Suitor

Royal Cradle | Photo

Old King Henry had six wives
Whose days were full of dread
For most of them led tragic lives
Then often wound up dead.
Catherine of Aragon
To whom he first proposed
Could not produce a princely son
So he said Adios!
Then Anne Boleyn, closer to home
Demanded that they wed
So Henry cut off ties with Rome
And then cut off her head.
Poor Jane Seymour was the one
Who finally played her part
When she, at last, produced a son
But died, which broke his heart.
Anne of Cleves, the next one booked
Was regal, young and wealthy
The problem was she didn’t look
Quite like her royal selfie.
Catherine Howard, it was said
No man had ever dated
But rumours spread after they’d wed
So was decapitated.
Catherine Parr, a lively sort
Who wielded her own power
Helped organise his kids and court
Once she’d escaped The Tower.

All Henry wanted was a son
A prince whom he could teach
To rule his people when he’d gone
But this was out of reach.
The irony which overwhelms
This patriarchal scene?
He gave to England and its realms
Perhaps their greatest queen
Because Young Bess, put to the test
Excelled in her employ
And showed the world it takes a girl
To do it like a boy.

You Can’t Be Sirius

Image result for Martian microbe funny

The push is on to get to Mars
Because down here we’ve blown it
I’m just not sure if Mars is ours
For who’s to say we own it?
Maybe its own inhabitants
Will greet us when we cruise in
In tiny, shiny disco pants
And shout We’re all called Susan!
We’ll tell them all about the Earth
Its sky, its seas, the land
How right from birth we know the worth
Of taking someone’s hand
Of running jumps into a lake
To beat the summer heat
And hopes that Grandma’s gonna bake
Our favourite thing to eat
The satisfaction we derive
From finding the right gift
And pulling over when we drive
To give a friend a lift
Why monkeys make us laugh out loud
While spiders make us shriek
How lovers can tune out a crowd
When dancing cheek to cheek.
Of course, they’ll think us all absurd
Forsaking paradise
But why come here? Haven’t you heard?
We’ve only rocks and ice!

Dumbfounded we would roam so far
They’ll note down in their book:
Good Lord, these Earthlings really are as stupid as they look…