Devil’s In The Detail

When I said I’d have a party

I sure meant it

Ain’t no one throws a party like I do

Devil’s in the detail

Entertainment

Mind-altered states

My guests know what to do

No need to lift a finger

Mere suggestions

Hordes they come

To thrash the night away

Shoehorn in as many

Pun intended

Then watch as all invited

Play or pray

Ain’t nothing like my parties

They are legend

Men they come and go

But all the same

Good and evil vying

In an orgy

Pointing fingers

Doling out the blame

Aspersions cast

It gives me so much pleasure

My nature, see

What can a devil do

But party on

And plan a new dominion

Premises worldwide

More than a few

Not my fault

I’m only party planner

Devil’s in the detail

As I said

Up to you lot

Invitation only

I’m just the maggot

Worming in your head

Justifying

Parties that deliver

Worst excesses

Esteemed, by me

The best

Received your invitation?

Hocus pocus

Cast my spell

Now you can do the rest

Ain’t no party

Like a devil’s

When delivered

What I do

It’s only in my name

See you on the 8th

I hope you’ll be there

Kiss it once

Then you must take all blame

Subprime Life

Youth’s energy became an old-age early,

Reminiscent of cruel winters long ago,

Hunter or be hunted as past primitive,

Weapons now quite different from long bow.

But spears still pierce and blood still flows aplenty,

Savages still scavenge, now upright,

Unvanquished beasts, unmarked by any number,

Missing link unmissing in their sight.

A broken chain, a steadfast reign of righteous,

Motion sensors marching endlessly through time,

Espy the life that seeks to live and end it,

Count its worth and value as subprime.

Count the cost of monsters who must judge life,

In pride’s self-justifying casting stone,

Wrecking, wreaking chaos. No limit. Children

Culled, guns and bombs, terror’s jaw-bone.

Never learning, never trying peace path,

Never caring but for selfish means,

Oh, hang heads, shame that’s neverending,

One child is worth more than all your dreams.

 

 

Babies, Bath Water And Wheels

One of those days where laughs have been absent,

Well, not absent, but definitely too few,

Too many reasons for not seeing the funny,

Like a failure to perceive different views.

Listening to others, all serious with cause

For things that, frankly, are lame,

Waffling on about nothings of note

With nary a pause in each frame.

Watching enactments of things seen before,

Discussed and never quite sorted,

Ideas never birthed, though pregnant with points,

Incited then swiftly aborted.

Boring, ’tis true, not the kids, not all,

But the professionals when gathered as one

At meetings of yore, the same as before,

All talk and nothing is done.

Not a laugh to be had though god knows I giggled,

Mostly just under my breath,

Demented I was and tired of each cause

But mainly just bored to death.

It’s the plague of the system that seeks to improve,

Hashes, rehashes, all logged,

Eyes glazing over, not mine, I’m too nosey,

Mental notes to be blogged.

Young woman beside me has kids on her mind,

Baby tended at home by a carer,

Well looked after, no doubts whatsoever

But I know her mind’s really there.

Not present, another, he’s gone with the wind,

Slouching deeper, bent double, spaced out,

Bored and disinterested by monotoned leader,

I know him well enough to not doubt

That thoughts on his mind revolve round his football

And he runs, so he’s thinking of that,

Or his wife and his kids, how he’ll moan when he’s home,

I don’t blame him, though he acts like a brat.

One says her piece and I stifle a yawn,

Can’t help it, it’s been a long day,

We’re all just tired, in need of a rest

So I suggest we’ve said all we can say.

And lo and behold the leader agrees!

She’s fed up too with the nonsense,

It’s good to know that it’s not just the minions

Who recognise some common sense.

Another will follow as they always do,

Another and then just one more,

And then once again to tick all the boxes,

They’ve made teaching a helluva chore.

It’s rife, so it seems, that all that we do,

In jobs, professions, careers

Requires so much talking, so much distilled shit

Till it’s streaming and pouring from ears.

I have to confess I do say my piece

Though usually it’s not well-received

When I remind all gathered that nothing much changes

Gasps! I’m not being believed.

Once in a while would be fine for a purpose

If action and sense would prevail,

But, not holding my breath till retirement comes,

Been there, seen that, done it and hail –

It circles around – like proverbially wheel,

Though no one admits that’s the case

Unless you’re a bit older with a trap you can’t shut

And enjoy the looks on their face

At heresy spouted, remembrances past

And how this is just as I find

Reinventing the wheel but not nearly as well,

Babies and baths come to mind.

Now, my poem’s as long as the meeting we had,

And there’s nothing visual for you

To redeem all the talk, to survey and to think,

So you’re dismissed ‘cos that’s what I do. 🙂