Just in case my last posting of this was misunderstood.

Two students who lived near Wallasey,

Were debating on logical fallacy.

He pulled out his red herring,

She said: “blimey, what’s that thing?”

He said: “this is my wonderful phallusy!”

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I'm not singing out of tune-It's the latest technique in solo singing; err, "serial sliding microtones".

Dia dhuit WOL! conas tá tú inniu?

Hello WOL! How are you today?

Is mise Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh, agus tá mé i mo chónaí i

contae Lancashire (Palatine!).

I’m Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh, and I live in Lancashire County Palatine.

Nollaig Shonah dhuit!

Happy  Christmas!

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The NHS-hating Tory hypocrites said “clap”;

Like the fool that I was, in the cold at our door,

I cheered and I whistled for the Tory claptrap,

While those partying scumbags sicked up booze on the floor,

Set emergency alarms off; and the Met Plod did nothing!

I couldn’t go to cuddle my new little granddaughter,

The young and the old went un-mourned in their coffins,

Now the...

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 MY QUERY:

Hello Ghazala,
I was wondering if you could tell me the meaning of some words you use?
"sakeenah"
"azzawajall"
Also:
Do you recognise Jesus as a prophet?
Do you celebrate his birthday at Christmas?

------------------------------------------------------------

ANSWER:

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My dearest darling Jeremy Clarkson,

I love you too,

I love you on a “cellular” level,

On a brain-cellular level that is,

Not much to love, is there?

Unlike you, I don’t lie in bed at night “grinding my teeth”,

Because I have a healthy, vigorous sex life,

Well, I’ve got a life!

And I wouldn’t dream of having you “paraded naked” through the streets,

No,...

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I asked: “what of December, Twenty-Twelve?”,

My mind peering through that literal crowd,

All those thoughts, all those words, in there, on the shelf,

Of the world wide web of Write Out Loud.

An article about Carol Ann Duffy (I make no claim to be a fan) caught my eye.

https://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=26736

She was under fire from the Torygraph ...

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Apologies to— Mary Howitt (1829)

1

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Cleaners can’t pay bills

Rail profits in Cayman Isles

Now the worm must turn

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“Food banks” for the poor.

Nurses work in poverty.

“Food pantries” if posh.

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Poor little match girls.

Can you hear the people sing?

General strike now!

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Pointless complication edited out!

More tea, Vicar?

Or anyone fer coffee?

What, to Braintree?

Oh no, darling, I mean there were three

Of wee

And now there bee

Just two of wee

Thee on’ mee

I’ve counted wee

Ever so preciselee

Just mee on’ thee

Tee hee hee hee!

Ah t’wasn’t mee

My dear mumee

That must bee

Young Jimee

Our absentee

Out of his t...

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May the Virgin Mary bless them and keep them safe.

Of what use is the Christian Religion,

If its Priests and Nuns side with oppressors,

With the killers of babies and women?

Jesus the Prophet was nailed to...

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Exquisite

Franz Lehar

"Love,You Heaven on Earth".

https://youtu.be/BQ-S9h-mG6Q?list=RDEMUXdb81bzN-BP6m0n-5DFyA

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In 2005, Jeremy Hunt, as Health Secretary co-authored a policy pamphlet calling for the NHS

to be replaced by an insurance system.

On page 78 the pamphlet says that “our ambition” should be the de-nationalising of the  provision of healthcare in Britain.

The book was put together by Douglas Carswell, and its authors include Tory MPs Michael Gove

Daniel Hannan, Greg Clark, David Gauke, ...

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I got out of bed every Sunday morning,

Old as I was; ate a full English breakfast,

Followed by porridge, I was ready for storming

those bastards on the Parish church doorsteps,

The Quakers, Wee Frees, the Muslims n' Jews,

Non-Conformists, Joves Witnesses united as one.

All preaching and pleading;

"don't sit in those pews",

You really don't want to be sitting in here,

G...

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But sir, it wasn’t us, it’s so unfair,

We’ve only been in power for nigh twelve years,

It was our friend le Putain, over there,

Made of the NHS such great pig’s ears.

It wasn’t Hunt spelled with a C who wrote

That pamphlet saying “Kill the NHS”,

It’s old gits, and those refugees afloat,

It’s them that’s got the UK in distress.

Oh look at that, a dead cat in th...

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Hoo favvers a bulldog chewin' a wasp,

Contempt a-dribblin' deawn er chin,

Contempt fer't folk in her eyes, dross,

Hoo sez don't use the word "catastrophe",

If tha's just lost thi heauwse, thi job,

If tha caun't pay t' leccy bill,

Caun't feed the kids, cos o' Tory banditry.

Scum o' the Earth, thiv 'ad their fill,

On' neaw they'll shit on't lot o' thi.

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Nearly bloody well threw up,

Today in bloody M&S,

Sick of bloody bull-shit,

Bloody “Winter Wishes” dishes!

Jesus Christ, enough already,

This is bloody Britain mate!

We’re celebrating bloody Christmas,

Not “Winter bloody Festival”,

Not “Winter bloody Holiday”,

This ain’t the bloody USA,

It’s bloody-well the UK,

Shove your bloody “Winter” bollocks,

Where the bloo...

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All my own work (being an ex altar-boy an' all that!)

O come, O come, Emmanuelle,

My favourite barmaid pulls it very well,

But I will mourn at home in exile here,

Until free beer tomorrow does appear,

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuelle,

Will pour free beer tomorrow-yeah like hell!

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In our Lancashire home, in our Lancashire home,
We speak with a Lanky Twang ever so rare,
We’ve got some wet moorlands exceedingly bare,
If you want a few Mountains, we've got some to spare,
In our Lancashire home.

En Vrolijk Kerstmis!

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The following is my response to Red Button's recent post: https://sharkfishinginwales.blogspot.com/2022/10/bemoaning-state-of-high-street.html

Britain’s been given

An Anti-Social-ist Behaviour Dis-Order,

The Tories flaunt it,

Like a naughty teen.

Britain’s ill, but can’t get treament,

Because of the cuts,

So the cuts on her wrists,

Are growing in number,

I’ve grown acc...

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We’ll drink a drink a drink,

To an empire pink so pink,

The saviours of the human race.

The truth we speak is ever so profound,

We speak the truth in every case.

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Bit of a cockup in original posting -here goes!

Their Favourite Things

Teardops they’re shedding; with lies they’ve been smitten,

“Bright sunlit uplands” still promised for Britons,

Brown paper packages, no attached strings,

Those are a few of their favourite things.

When reality bites, when the truth stings,
When they’re feeling sad,
They’ll simply remember their fa...

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An ghaoth aduaidh bíonn sí crua,

Is cuireann sí gruaim ar dhaoine,

An ghaoth aneas bíonn sí tais,

Is cuireann sí rath ar shíolta,

An ghaoth anoir bíonn sí tirim,

Is cuireann sí sioc istoíche,

An ghaoth aniar bíonn sí fial,

Is cuireann sí iasc i líonta.

The north wind is hard,

And it depresses people,

The south wind is damp,

And...

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This poppy was recently made for me as an impromptu gift, by a young lady who had been researching her family tree, and had found that a male relative had served in the RAF in WW2. I will always treasure it.

I wrote the following probably ten years ago.

On Armistice Day, (which, by now, all should know,

Marks the end of World War Number One),

I remembered Them, as I sat...

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Autumn leaves, skipping

Up the old apples and pears

To her wintry rest.

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The Irish is in Celtic script and the English is in Old English text.

Some of my earliest and abiding memories are of the Irish accents and Irish names of pupils and teachers at school and at church.

Having learned French and Spanish on retirement, a great excuse for backpacking holidays, I gained an interest in language and in how it works.

Th...

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There was a young lady from Woking,

Wooed a fellow with amorous provoking.

But that gammon called Rowley,

Made his Brexit too slowly,

Now that lady from Woking is bloating.

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Sangita Myska, for your courage and compassion, I thank you,

Dog-whistled by client “journalists” in hock to money’s might, they cower

In ignorance and fear, the bigot spitting on what’s good and true.

I wept with you as valiantly you battled, speaking truth to power.

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The audio file in this post is of SAMPLES 1-7 in my profile-apologies for repeats cockup.

This  below, was my first and only attempt (so far) at a Sestina, from about ten years ago?

I think it reflects:

1. the trepidation I felt at the thought of one of my 3 months-long walking trips and

2. the effort expended in the journey of trying to write this bloody thing!

PILGRIM P...

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I’ve tried writin powums in spanish,

Mi spelin means they’re a bit moorish,

Am back to mi roots,

The rools don’t get twoots,

Now I’m writin mi ditties in liquorish.

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