Author: Sysadmin

A poem

“From” by yours truly

Don’t know where it’s coming from.

Sometimes feel deaf and mum.

But got more, if you want some.

If not, just hear the hum.

On religion and new poems

On today’s sermon, the pastor whom I like mentioned the “sensible consolations”  in life in his sermon. An online friend asked why to have religious belief. I said it is because you can believe you can be forgiven and that you are more than what the World thinks you are. It is also about beauty.

Some new poems

“Shut-in (Part Two)” by yours truly

Shut-in,

Have some mutton.

Some say you’re a glutton.

So take it easy, sleazy.

You’re almost as bad as Putin.

But for you we are still rootin’.

“Crown” by yours truly

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Cap and gown but no renown.

The news may make you frown.

Some say you are just a clown.

Anyway, make life your own.

“Handle” by yours truly

Get a handle on this!

And by “handle”

I don’t mean a big bottle of liquor.

“Guac” by yours truly

(With apologies to Air Supply, but I really dislike the band; this is based on their song “All Out of Love,” a pollution from adolescence).

I’m all out of guac

What are chips without it?

“Can just use salsa sauce.

Try cheese in the mix.

Maybe some chili too.”

 

‘

On Ukraine and some poems

Don’t know what to say about the Ukraine war again at this time. Poland seems very kind to take in so many refugees. And I think Poland is right to supply people staying in Ukraine with military equipment.

Poems

“Sauce” by yours truly

“Okay, let’s get down to it,  Who is the prime suspect in the mystery of the pasta-sauce murders?” –asked Hercule  Ditto/Bore-(o)

“We believe it is Monsieur Ragù. He has no conscience.”

“Who knew? Can it be true? Ragù? Well, it makes me blue.”

“We would not lie to you.”

“Ache” by yours truly

Life is  what you make of it

Or what you take of it.

You can make a milkshake of it.

But it will still ache…  it.

“Shut-in” by yours truly

Shut-in… because there’s no place like home.

”

 

Some poems

1. “SPR” by yours truly

U.S. President:

“We have decided to tap The Strategic Pun Reserve to end this language crisis.

Puns will be flooding the market (if you have a dog, you may let it bark, and…)

The English language should normalize soon.”

2) “Mist” by yours truly

Mist on the mountains,

And missed on them.

Circulating fountains.

Here some sounds, and,..

Go to the grounds, and…

Founds, sounds; it pounds.

3) “Intelligent” by yours

“I hear you’re intelligent

But smell like a gent

When he has been too much drinking

And not enough thinking

And at other ladies winking.”

“Why not go back to your inking?

You are stinking.”

“Also feel a bit like sinking.”

Just a few poems. I think the media coverage of the Ukraine war on TV is pretty good but have nothing more to say about it for now other than that the situation is very sad.

“Through It” by yours truly

That’s how they do it:

Just put you through it.

Just have knew it.

Now go back to it.

“Skull” by yours truly

Cracked my skull,

Now mentally dull.

Void and null.

Now feel the pull.

Some still about me mull.

You may have had your full.

“12 Hours” by yours truly

12 hours, oh the powers,

Late at night, oh the fright.

Guatemala flowers.

But sometimes the minutes

Can seem like insects.

New day, new way.

Sometimes time sweetens,

Sometimes it sours.

Hours.

On the Ukraine war and a few jokes

From The Irish Times by Naomi O’Leary:

“And yet, in front of my eyes on my laptop screen was the email itself: a message to staff from the UN’s department of global communications, telling them to use: “conflict” or “military offensive” and not “war” or “invasion” when referring to the situation in Ukraine”

I have said this before: the U.N. should require its members to limit the service of their countries’ most senior leaders like Putin to ten years or so. If the countries want to defy such a standard, they can become autarkies like North Korea, but most other countries can ban their export products.

Two poem/jokes

“When’sday” by yours truly

When’sday

Tuesday night ends, so day

Not wines day

Make ammends day

Ill portends day

Regret sins day

Get your pens day

Can’t see? Grab your lens day.

“Joke” by yours truly

Had a joke to tell but forgot it.

Happens a lot, it…

Hate when that happens.

You probably do not.

 

 

 

On aging

In my junior year of college while in London a year, I would go to the campus restaurant for lunch, sometimes with a next-door neighbor friend or sometimes local friendly acquaintances.

At one lunch we started talking about pop music, and I said I liked the English pop group Dire Straits. It was only the early 1990s. The cute English woman across the lunch table teasingly called the pop group “oldies.” I guess she must have been only 19.

I am listening now to Dire Straits. I think they were a very good pop band. and “Romeo and Juliet” is a great song.

“Smirch” by yours truly

In a bit of of a lurch.

Please don’t smirch.

It can hurt(ch ya).

Parents say I should I go to Church, ya.

 

Taxes and death

Mainly filling out tax forms today. Yes, the government deserves some of your money, but they have been harsh to me at a difficult time in my life in the past few years. They go after the weak ones. That is said about p—philes.

Anyway, got a reference to a good tax accountant with whom I am staying. He seems to be able to keep the IRS dogs off.

People have different qualities. Some have good math and science skills (and in my experience are usually calm), and others are a bit wild and disorganized but can be creative.

Just a very brief poem/joke  today

“Surly” by yours truly

“You may call me sir, if I may call you mam. Surely, I will not be surly, smarmy, snarky, or squirrely. Hey, isn’t your real name Shirley?”

“Surely, you jest.”

“No, and my name is surely not Shirley.”

On going on

Forgot to blog earlier today, partly because still finishing the new novel but still like to post something once a day, if only as a kind of personal therapy.

How do you go on when getting older and the body is failing a bit? It is a question that drew me to Samuel Beckett in my dissertation because he dealt with it point blank.

Well, I do believe every day is a blessing with no kind of Voltaire-like sarcasm.  But there is also pain in life. I have been lucky, some might say even spoiled. But life can be difficult for everyone.