Mingling

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I really love to party, to drink, to dance, have fun,

It’s the people I cant tolerate, all things said and done.

They always want to teach you, to do your thing their way.

They always think they’re better, and they’re not afraid to say.

My daddy is a banker, they have the first letter wrong,

My father’s in the army, do you want to see his gong?

It’s then I’m at a loss for words, I don’t know what to utter,

And when I do, it comes out wrong and I begin to stutter.

Well, my old man’s a dustman, I only say it to be funny.

Which makes me appear less to you, cos he hasn’t any money.

My mother though, she knows the law, she’s a barrister.

But actually, she makes the coffee, as a Starbucks barista.

So, in this world, this snobbish hell, where money does the talking.

I go to all the posh old do’s, to do a bit of stalking.

They’ve got degrees in useless stuff, things that aren’t too smart.

Philosophy and media, or history of art,

But what these toffs, they do not know, the thing that defines me,

I studied medicine and psychiatry, got me a PhD.

For all their airs and graces and looking down their nose.

I’m not quite the underdog, not like they would suppose.

So, I mingle as I party, whilst taking careful notes,

And later, when they’re on my couch, relate their anecdotes.

©Joseph R Mason

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Eugi’s Causerie Weekly Prompt – Mingle – May 27, 2021 – Eugi’s Causerie (amanpan.com)

Magic – A Nonet Poem.

Nonet:
A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc… until line nine finishes with one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.

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Magic hung in the air that dark night,

To spill out over the night sky.

Rummaging in crevasses,

Wait for someone to die.

To raise them up again.

That they might not lie

In cold slumber.

Immortal?

Or die

Twice?

©Joseph R Mason 2021

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Eugi’s Causerie Weekly Prompt – Magic – May 20, 2021 – Eugi’s Causerie (amanpan.com)

From Another Viewpoint

Your viewpoint or my point of view?

Ambling, rambling, almost gambling.

Alliterations flow.

But still, I do not know.

I never have and never will.

But then I hear you say,

You know the drill.

What drill?

What thrill?

What bitter pill?

Resonances flow you know.

And so it goes, or blows, or glows, who knows?

I don’t understand.

Totally underhand.

It’s yours for under a grand.

The farmer says,

“Get off my land,,

You and your band,

You’re Banned!”

Assonances.

Resonances.

Alliterations flow.

Absolutely always avoid annoying alliterations.

That’s my point of view.

It doesn’t rhyme,

It don’t keep time,

The timbres right off key.

Grammar’s lousy too, but that’s just me!

©Joseph R. Mason 2021

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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https://amanpan.com/2021/05/13/eugis-weekly-prompt-viewpoint-may-13-2021/

Sorry…

I have not been blogging my poetry for some time now. It’s not that I’m lazy or that I’ve lost interest, it’s just that I’m busy. Having completed two fiction books last year, I am now ploughing on with number 3 and it is taking up all of my spare time.

So, if you’ve missed me, I’m sorry. If you haven’t noticed, I’m also sorry. (Probably more so!)

Joseph.

Below is the finished, but awaiting publication, book 2….

Wolf Moon

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Did you see the wolf moon rise?

Dazzling watchers of the winter skies.

Did you feel your blood turn chill?

As a full moon rose over snow-capped hill.

Did you hear the howling in the night?

A blood curdling scream to give a fright.

Did you hear that panting like a pack of dogs?

Or wolves, or demons, or perhaps, hedgehogs.

Your imagination just runs wild.

As the fears return you had as a child.

“Get a grip,” you say out loud.

As the wolf moon dips behind a cloud.

No such thing as werewolves, that rip you limb from bowel.

I always get this feeling as I howl, howl, howwwwwllllll!

© Joseph R. Mason 2021

29th January 2021

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Wolf Moon – January 28, 2021 ‹ Eugi’s Causerie ‹ Reader — WordPress.com

Dawning

© Richard j. Kirk 2019

A new day is dawning.

A new era is upon us.

A new world has begun.

Clichés each and every one.

Irrelevant all.

Pointless.

Demeaning to the ears.

Sayings which should be evicted.

Vanished.

Expunged.

Erased from all literature.

Cut from the tongues that speak it.

Then.

Dipping quill into crimson mixed with spittle.

We will compose afresh.

Then will arise a new patois.

Acrolect and basilect

Sociolinguistic labels

The upper and lower boundaries

The dawning of a new age.

© Joseph R. Mason 2021

29th January 2021

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Dawning – January 21, 2021 ‹ Eugi’s Causerie ‹ Reader — WordPress.com

The Accident – A short story

A salutary tale – and a warning to all.

Photograph ©Farnham Herald 2015

It was a quiet winter’s evening. The temperature had not risen much above zero, and the morning frost had hung heavy in trees and hedgerows all day. On my way home, I took the road through the forest. It was a long and straight road only used by locals and sales reps, looking for a fast shortcut.

I must admit, I was going quite fast, seventy-five, maybe eighty miles an hour, but hey, I drove over thirty thousand miles a year in my job, and anyway, I was in an Audi, so the rules don’t apply to me.

I smirked at that thought and reached down, momentarily, to turn up the radio to sang with the old Doobie Brothers song blaring from the speakers.

“Got those highway blues, can’t you hear my motor runnin’?

Flyin’ down the road with my foot on the floor

All the way in town they can hear me comin’

Ford’s about to drop, she won’t do no more…..”

That’s as far as I got. When I looked up, ahead in the road stood a deer. I slammed on my brakes, the car skidded on the frosty road, hit the curb, and then flipped over, and over, and over, and over. I think I counted seven, stopping only when the car wrapped itself round a tree. Somehow, I was thrown from the car, landing in a dazed heap about twenty feet down the road. I didn’t get up despite the cold. I’d seen enough ambulance documentaries my wife loves to watch to know you shouldn’t move until the paramedics came and gave you the once over. Anyway, it didn’t seem that cold. I was just dazed, disoriented, and my mind seemed it was in a fuzz, so probably best if I didn’t move. You must be sensible in these situations, better to be safe than sorry, I thought.

It wasn’t long before I heard the wail of sirens coming from both directions, an ambulance heading towards me one way and a fire engine coming towards the car. They had all their lights on, so what I didn’t expect was the ambulance to head straight for me. I was in the middle of the road, for crying out loud. Surely, they could see me.

At the last moment, I rolled over to the side of the road. If I hadn’t, he would have gone right over me. What an idiot.

I was going to have words, but I found I couldn’t move easily. I was giddy, still dazed, and things were not very clear.

I decided to sit up in the road. I knew, I shouldn’t do that, I might have a spinal injury, and that could be life-changing. But nothing was hurting, so I thought I’d give it a try. There, it was fine, no harm done.

The paramedics were both looking into the car, shaking their heads. Had they still not noticed there was no one in it? After another few minutes, the police arrived. I was glad I hadn’t had that second pint; they were bound to breathalyse me. I’ll be fine.

They’d closed the road in both directions, but still, they were ignoring me.

“That’s it,” I said to myself. “I’d better just get up and go and see them because they still hadn’t seen me.”

It was a struggle getting up, but once vertical, I seemed just fine.

“I reckon he must have been doing eighty down here, look at the skid marks,” one of the coppers said.

“Excuse me, I wasn’t doing anything over sixty if you don’t mind.”

He totally ignored me, so that was their game because they thought I’d been a naughty boy, they were just going to pretend I wasn’t there

I walked over to the car to have a look.

Oh, my goodness, there’s someone inside. How did they get there?

I looked at the car.

“Phew, that’s not mine, mine is much longer than that, and it’s a completely different shape to mine, same colour though,” I said to no one in particular. “Excuse me, have you seen my car? It must be around here somewhere.”

They didn’t answer, just stood there looking at the bloke in the car, shaking their heads.

“Bloody fool,” one of them said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I answered.

It seemed like hours, but eventually, they cut him out of the car and put him in a body bag.

I knew it was morbid, disrespectful even, but I went over to have a look before they zipped it up.

I couldn’t make out much face. It was covered in blood.

“Stop!” I shouted, “I saw his lips move. He’s still alive.”

I bent to listen. He was singing, actually singing at a time like this.

“Oh, rockin’ down the highway

Oh, rockin’ down the highway

Oh, rockin’ down the highway

Oh, rockin’ down the highway.”

Wasn’t that what I was singing just before the crash?

Song Lyrics ©The Doobie Brothers.

© Joseph R Mason

Kindly edited by Leila Kirkconnell.

Song Lyrics ©The Doobie Brothers.

© Joseph R Mason

Kindly edited by Leila Kirkconnell.

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Squirrels in the church.

A light hearted look at a squirrel problem.

The Presbyterian church called a meeting to decide what to do about their squirrel infestation. After much prayer and consideration, they concluded that the squirrels were predestined to be there, and they should not interfere with God’s divine will.

At the Baptist church, the squirrels had taken an interest in the baptistry. The deacons met and decided to put a water-slide on the baptistry and let the squirrels drown themselves. The squirrels liked the slide and, unfortunately, knew instinctively how to swim, so twice as many squirrels showed up the following week.

The Lutheran church decided that they were not in a position to harm any of God’s creatures. So, they humanely trapped their squirrels and set them free near the Baptist church. Two weeks later, the squirrels were back when the Baptists took down the water-slide.

The Episcopalians tried a much more unique path by setting out pans of whiskey around their church in an effort to kill the squirrels with alcohol poisoning. They sadly learned how much damage a band of drunk squirrels can do.

But the Catholic church came up with a more creative strategy! They baptized all the squirrels and made them members of the church. Now they only see them at Christmas and Easter.

Not much was heard from the Jewish synagogue. They took the first squirrel and circumcised him. They haven’t seen a squirrel since.