Fighting For



Why are you fighting, why do you foam

What are you fighting for

Why petted pout and tetchy tantrum

The slamming of all open doors

Has someone pained you with their lying

Stolen your toys or treats

Why crocodile tears, the threat of more crying

The stamping of petulant feet

Who has affronted, who has offended

Sensibilities, pride or your dress

Or have you broken fences that cannot be mended

Grow up now and own up, confess

Have you hurt your friends, insulted their name

Been a bully, a braggart, a pest

Are you really culprit and won’t take the blame

Have you really tried what is best

Why are you fighting, what is your cause

And who are you hurting the most

Where common sense in all that is lost

Your brain in meaningless boasts

Time to reflect on the nature and meaning

Why no friends now come to your door

Why are you fighting, what are you fighting

Just who are you fighting for

Hair Today, Gone On A Promise

What is this vision that I see before me?

A beard, egads!

Has Santa come to stay?

But wait!

It is not uniform, all white and fluffy,

Must query this conundrum with no more delay.

For patch upon the chin has made this piebald,

A presentation quite perplexed, I fear,

Where should be brown, we have alarming.

Did you have a fright?

Oh, how ghastly, good lord, dear.

Passports pending, photographs are looming,

Some sample of the truth of your visage,

One cannot see fizzog for variegated,

And, lo, I see a problem, this mirage

Officialdom will ponder, quite as I do,

Whatever happened here,

Has terror struck?

Officers will mull

Much more than I have

And murmur under breath,

Osama, resurrected, wtf!

I’m only saying, darling, cos I love you,

This beard you sport has aged you in extreme,

These whiskers here resemble one Catweazle,

Not to mention itch and scratch unseem.

I’ve purchased brand new razors,

Here be scissors,

Aftershave delightful, just for you,

Me? Admittedly, I find this frightful,

Though kids all say it’s charming,

Little liars – that’s not true.

Who is this man before me, I be crying,

Here be yeti!

And whyfore, wherefore, feckfore, is it multihued?

The hair upon your head is not coloured quite so.

My eyes!

My eyes, oh golly gosh, have come unglued.

There must, I think, be reasonable ‘splanation,

Some sort of answer to this question, hereabouts,

I cannot think and you’re devoid of answers.

Has someone bleached you?

Have you been sheep-dipped?

Another problem, darling, lies in skin test,

Mine, you see, is delicate.

It is!

Snogging not an option with such whiskers,

The slightest peck but never full on kiss.

Though softer now, it started very jaggy,

My face afeart you’re hiding more of same,

Be a sport,

I’ll even do it for you,

Come back to me with skin so soft and tame.

You’ve trimmed and clipped and, yes, there is improvement,

So, time, I guess, is no issue for the task,

A daily shave, or two, you hairy bastard – smile – only kidding.

What else to say? Just really had to ask.


And do I tell you how to wear your hair, dear?

Such colours you have tried – and styles – I’ve squirmed,

Remember when you shaved it up the back, dear,

Well, I do,

Thought I was married to a bloke, a guy, a him.

You do yours and I’ll do mine, unless dear,

A face bereft of fuzz still turns you on,

It does!

Good god, why didn’t you just say so?

Give me half an hour – wink, wink – I’m on a promise.

Twenty minutes later, it be gone.

Pedalo, Pirate And Me

There in a crossing before resurrection,

Pedalo, pirate and me,

Penny for payment of passing with purpose,

Peculiar companions at sea.

Pirate has cutlass but I have the water,

Fear and distrust rule the waves,

Challenged by pirate’s intent, I was careful,

Guarded the penny I’d saved.

Paddling for fury in vessel too flimsy,

Pedalo sprung with a leak,

Watchful, we both, in the boat with one berth,

Leery and neither will speak.

Days spent in bleary, dried tears in our eyes,

His and mine salted, no less,

Vital drops lost in mistrust of the other

And not single lashful to bless.

He put down cutlass, disarmed I was charmed,

Poured of my drink then espied

Dagger in boot, the treaty was moot,

The brigand had bloody well lied.

I held up canteen, if you know what I mean,

Threatened to spill all to sea,

No semblance of jest though hazardous test,

Dismal for both him and me.

Gazed we eyes narrow’d, that Captain, no sparrow,

Choleric humour and eagle his way,

At last in frustration I held out my coin,

Passage wanted and willing to pay.

Penny of purpose seemed coin of faint worth,

Less value than water on board

But value for measure the both were a treasure

Life-giving water and key to new world.

Bargaining with Myself

Do you ever make bargains with yourself?

I do it with the children.

‘Tidy your room and then you can go out to play.’

‘Eat your dinner and then you can choose a sweet.’

‘Finish your homework and then you can watch some TV.’

But I do it with myself too.

I’m sitting at my laptop just now, saying to myself,

‘Go and put a washing on and tidy up and then you can come back to the blog.’

I’ve already spent more time than I probably should have on this site over the course of the weekend. And I’ve enjoyed it. But I do feel a bit guilty.

I find I feel guilty about stealing time for myself when I know there are so many other things needing done. Sometimes I don’t care and think, ‘I’m entitled. I work hard. This is ‘me’ time.’

But there are other times, like now, when I think. ‘You’ve had plenty ‘me’ time this weekend. Now go and do what you should be doing. And then you can come back to it.’

I’ve guilted myself into it. I’m going to be a responsible grown-up and do my chores.

What about you?

Do you make bargains with yourself?