light verse and much, much worse
At Cana, water turned to wine
Delighting all the guests
And showed the world The Great Divine
Considers all requests.
Although some question Was it prayer?
Or did a son discover
The force behind a mother’s glare
Is unlike any other?
I’ve not written for some time but I’m now posting again.
The thing is, I have friends in Ukraine whom I’ve known for a great many years. I visit them once, sometimes twice, annually so it’s been tough watching recent events in the news. I travelled there in October when the signs of war were increasingly ominous and I’ve not stopped worrying about them since.
I’m a teacher and during the recent Easter break I journeyed to Ukraine to see these same friends. This time, however, the trip wasn’t so straightforward as it required flying into a neighbouring country, taking trains, boarding buses then crossing the border on foot.
I didn’t go there as a mercenary. My sole mission was to deliver medicines and other necessities whilst checking on the wellbeing of my friends. Given the circumstances, most are holding up quite well but I’m sure there’s loads they’re not telling me.
That’s because they don’t want me to worry.
Can you imagine that?
After an unforgettable week followed by some tearful goodbyes, I made my way back across the border and flew home.
Back to teaching.
Back to writing.
Back to normal.
Lucky me.
“Have you been following events in The Ukraine?”
“John, we no longer call it that.”
“No longer call what what?”
“We no longer call it The Ukraine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We just say Ukraine now; they’ve dropped the The,” Laverne gave me the lowdown.
“Who did?”
“The Ukrainians.”
“Don’t you mean Ukrainians?”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you said The Ukrainians.”
“Oh, for God’s sake…”
“Why is it I’m only hearing about this now?”
“Try spending less time on TikTok.”
“I enjoy watching eco-tourists run for their lives.”
“Fair enough,” Laverne shrugged.
“So, when did they ditch the The?”
“I believe it was around the same time Kentucky Fried Chicken rebranded as KFC.”
“Do you think their KFCs serve Chicken Kiev?”
“We don’t say that either.”
“What? Chicken?”
“No, Kiev.”
“You’re kidding.”
“We now pronounce it Kyiv, like Steve.”
“Steve Rogers?”
“Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Captain America could end this whole thing in one day.”
“Sweetie, I want you to stop talking,” Laverne took my hand. “In the past we had a habit of anglicising names which proved tricky to pronounce and no one really questioned it. Now there’s a bit of a reset happening, that’s all.”
“My stress levels go through the roof every time I have to say anemone.”
“When did you last need to say anemone?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
“I’m talking about foreign names.”
“Brunhilde.”
“Place names.”
“Melbourne.”
“More foreign than that.”
“Machu Picchu.”
“It’s Bombay becoming Mumbai and Calcutta becoming Kolkata, that sort of thing,” Laverne clarified.
“We weren’t that far off on those two,” I felt I ought to give credit where credit was due.
“My issue isn’t with the consonants so much, as the bloody diphthongs.”
“Your Vietnamese neighbours? What have they done now?”
“Stop it,” Laverne giggled. “Hey, did you know that Kanye’s changed his name as well? Apparently he now goes by Ye. My son told me.”
“I fail to see the significance.”
“Well, according to Ye himself, ye is the most common word in The Bible.”
“Blessed be the fruit.”
“Oh, there’s more… Ye then enlightened us further by explaining that ye can sometimes mean thee.”
“Which Ukrainians have dropped like a hot potato,” I reminded my friend.
“They dropped a The, not a thee.”
“Be that as it may, I think Ye will find that the most common word in The Bible is, in fact, the.”
“So we’ve circled back on ourselves,” Laverne groaned. “How do we end this?
“Here’s a crazy idea: let’s add a The.”
The End
Where do storks nest during a war
As spires tumble and towns are no more?
What will deer eat when tanks advance
Over sweet meadows of young, tender plants?
What drives a cub out of the den
Crying alone for its mother again?
Gone is the gold
Dark is the dawn
Ghostly and cold
Best to fly on
The platypus unsettles those
Who organise their socks in rows
Who’d never sport a check with stripes
The this-goes-better-with-that types.
Is it both mammal and a bird?
The mere suggestion is absurd
A beaver that can lay an egg?
Now try and pull the other leg…
Although it doesn’t quack or cluck
At first glance, it might be a duck
But if so, what’s with all the fur?
And is that venom in its spur?
This oddity that broke the mold
Still has the boffins in its hold
And while we mock the platypus
One wonders what it thinks of us
My valentine suggested wine
I bought the best champagne
Then after making love we dined
On Chocolate Frangipane.
Why don’t we do this every night?
She cooed after our frolics
So, now we do and that is why
We’re toothless alcoholics.
February, you’re sublime
Romantic, cool and flirty
Who will admit to twenty-nine
But draws the line at thirty
January’s no one’s friend
A month that lingers without end
No end to winter’s deepest chill
Which steals the breath and makes us ill
No end to counting every dime
From letting go at Christmastime
To resolutions boldly made
Then just as quietly betrayed
No reason to buy a bouquet
No fireworks
No Mother’s Day
At New Year’s, many raise a glass
Bemused by how the months soon pass
Then wake the next day full of dread
To fear the year which lay ahead
The word for hippopotamus
Ain’t half big as its bottom is
Said Narcissus’s missus:
No kiss is as his is…
Mr Ormsby At Large 