DIAPHANOUS 250715

"He was quite obviously a diaphanous criminal, Watson" said Holmes, "and I saw right through him."

Wearing something that diaphanous
When she sat down I knew
Without using that much nous
That this was too good to be true

"Diaphanous" (from Kelvin Clone) - the fragrance that's really next to nothing

She entered the room -
Wearing diaphanous clothes -
I barely noticed

"I want my clothing designs to be more diaphanous... I want to make this quite clear... "

PARADOX 240715

"By the small depth & large size of the footprint Watson" said Holmes "We're looking for a small girl in big shoes. A paradox."

He's always been a paradox,
An enigma, that is true ---
But even he puts on his socks,
Before putting on his shoe.

"Paradox" (from Kelvin Clone) - You don't know why you want it, but you know you want it anyway.

The joy and despair
Of wanting but not wanting
Is a paradox

The Doctor said to the Doctor "Well, we can't have two of us here, it's a paradox!"
"No, it's a pair of Docs" muttered Jo...

LACKADAISICAL 230715

"My friend, Mister Sherlock Holmes was often a lackadaisical fellow, unless a particularly interesting crime came along..."

My mood's lackadaisical
As it is from time to time ---
It's just about all that I can do
To be bothered completing this rhyme

"Lackadaisical" (from Kelvin Clone) - the fragrance for when you really can't be bothered

Is this a haiku?
I'm not sure I want to know...
Lackadaisical

Is this a haiku?
I'm not sure I know or care...
Lackadaisical

It seems odd that a lawn full of daisies might indicate a lackadaisical gardener.

Lackadaisical - "Showing no interest or enthusiasm"

LIMERICH

The thing about this Osborne bloke,
Is whilst his policies are a bit of a joke
It ought to be noted
That when people voted
They seemed to think he was a top bloke

This was my reply to this:

http://akh-wonderfullife.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/there-was-once-tory-call-george.html - Go on, add your own…!

Oh, and, while we're at it...

Private Eye on the money again... pic.twitter.com/J98ZEngxr3

(And I might as well plug my own little poem again, too…)

EFFLUVIUM 220715 (NOT A CLASSIC MORNING TO BE HONEST)

"From the hairs, and the foul air, there's a dog involved" said Holmes.
"Mr Holmes, it's the effluvium of a gigantic hound!"

I'm aware of my effluvium,
My friends it does not please
But I can only blame 'em
For giving me too much cheese.

"Effluvium" (from Kelvin Clone) - we know... and we're working on it...

Alone in a room
Erupting effluvium -
Smelt it and dealt it

The Battlefields of Effluvium, testament to the folly of stench warfare...

"Effluvium"
1: a gaseous or vaporous emission, especially a foul-smelling one.
2: a condition causing the shedding of hair.

HAIKU 220715

The minute you start
Believing that you're perfect -
Then you're in trouble

FORTY PERCENT

Hack off forty percent, George

Hack off forty percent

Let’s just take it for granted, George

That it’s everyone else that’s bent

Forty’s not such a huge number

And if we’re lucky they won’t live that long

And if they act a bit humbler

They’ll see we’ve done nothing wrong

Hack another forty percent, George

Hack another forty percent

Let ’em take it for granted, George

That the money’s all been spent

We’ll make ’em all work harder

Twenty-four Seven, if not more

Whilst we all stock the larder

Because luckily we’re not poor

Hack off forty percent, George

Hack off forty percent

No need for us to worry, George

About how we’ll pay our rent

Don’t worry that they’re starving

Or what happens if they get sick

Shut the libraries and hospitals

Keep them down and keep them thick

Hack another forty percent, George

Hack another forty percent

We’ll back you to the hilt, George

Be strong and don’t relent

Carve away their culture

Smash the welfare state

Take the time to crush everything

That once made this country great

So hack off forty percent, George

Hack off forty percent

Just as long as you’re careful, George

That my profit won’t take a dent

Take their money off them

So I can keep my yacht

And get back onto the golf course -

Because they’re such a lazy lot

Hack another forty percent, George

Hack another forty percent

We’ll just send the bailiffs in, George

When they can’t pay our rent

Never believe you’re rich enough

Safe, comfortable and secure

Just keep on raking it all in

And keep on wanting more

Hack off forty percent, boys

Hack off forty percent

Let’s just take it for granted, boys

That they won’t notice that we’re bent

Martin A W Holmes, July 2015 

FOIBLE 210715

"Do you think that I have a foible of any sort, Watson?" asked Holmes over breakfast. "How long have you got?" I replied.

My father's one foible

Or was it a curse?

Was quoting from the Boible

Chapter and verse

"Foible" (from Kelvin Clone) - the fragrance that you wear mostly out of habit

The nudist Abbot -

Had just one little foible

But had no habit

The Foible twins were known throughout their lives for their surprising idiosynchronicities.

TWITTER ARTWICULATE STUFF 200715

Most mornings I start my day by getting up and trying to get my brain going by attempting to contribute to Twitter's #Artwiculate strand, which is basically a "Word of the Day" thing that prompts you with a word and sees what you can come up with. Incidentally, this all tends to kick off around midnight UK time, so I'm usually at least five hours behind the real wits.

Recently, I seem to have slipped into a familiar pattern which is rapidly becoming a bit of a mental workout; I'll start with a "Holmes and Watson" moment and sometimes that's all I'll do. If I'm feeling particularly frisky, I might try a bit of  4-line doggerel to get my poetry muscles working, and, if that bit of me seems not to be too embarrassing, I might attempt one of my "hilarious" advertising strap lines for yet another mythical perfume brand.

I usually finish there, unless the rhythm of the word triggers a haiku, (after a fashion) or I think that there might be another pun that I can squeeze out of the word.

So, why am I suddenly telling you this?

Well, perhaps it's because I feel like I might be taking a little break from such nonsense for a while, and this means I can go forward stripped of all the embarrassment and self-inflicted "pressure" of attempting to conjure up yet another set on yet another morning.

You may mock, of course, but doing this sort of nonsense for months on end is what finally began to persuade me that I might want to try my hand at some "proper" poetry (or, at least, the nearest equivalent that I feel capable of  coming up with…)

Today's word was "Nefarious" with its definition (taken from the Artwiculate website): "Infamous for being wicked.

This was the "Holmes and Watson":

"Oh, I wouldn't call Professor Moriarty nefarious, Watson" said Holmes over breakfast, "He's far worse than that…!"

The "poem":

I might not be nefarious
Yet a girl once called me "wicked"
But she claimed I was Aquarius
And I nodded ('cos I'm a dickhead)

The tagline:

"Nefarious" (from Kelvin Clone) - the fragrance that you wear when you just feel like being bad.

The pun:

The years of the reign of the Emperor Nefarious were some of the darkest times in Roman history…

And finally, the "haiku":

Once celebrated
A former entertainer
Now nefarious

So now you know the fiendish workings of my so-called "mind", I'm sure that you'll agree that it was barely worth mentioning.

ANGRY POEM

Gleaming chrome, polished steel –

A proud grandfather and husband

Who has already survived so much

Is simply heading home

A prang, a bump, an inconsequential nothing

Late on a summer’s evening -

Things need to be done; details exchanged

This is how civilization functions, after all

And not knowing that

These are his last moments -

He gets out of the car

Gleaming chrome, sharpened steel –

Just another angry young man

As so many are in these mad days

With a blade for a friend

A stab, a thrust, a terrifying everything

Will taint a summer’s evening –

He needn’t do this; lives don’t have to change

If he keeps the rage and fury under control

And not yet knowing

That two lives are ending -

He gets out of the car

Martin A W Holmes, July 2015

DAWN, 200715

A muted dawn, the sky a mackerel blanket,

Everywhere there's low, murmured chattering,

As if the birds are waiting

For a conductor's baton.

HAIKU 170715

Friday night haiku
Saturday morning poems
Sunday limericks

PINK SKY

Quickly! Quickly!
Pink sky! Pink sky!
And it's diagonal

LOWKU 170715

Much writing gets done -
But rarely is it something
Anyone might like

Confidence crumbles
When faced with disappointment
And indifference

Yet I carry on
Churning out utter nonsense
Chiefly for myself

Stubbornness abounds
In the face of ongoing
Huge adversity

But words are churned out
In endless hope that someone
May well see the light

Is it contrary
That a pessimist like me
Travels hopefully?

MICROPOEM15

The alchemy of mixing
Shadows and light,
Words and sound,
With celluloid –
Magically generating joy
Out of darkness.

#micropoem15 #film

...and whilst I'm wallowing, here's another of my heroic failures that I found out about today. This was for the "Centre for Creative Writing" Twitter micropoetry competition on the subject of film.

PLUTO

Well, it failed to make the cut, but this was my entry into this week's Faber Academy #quickfic flash fiction competition where the task was to write a 250 word story prompted by the image attached.

It was my first attempts at one of their contests, because I only found out about it today,  so (for once) I wasn't too disappointed at my total and utter pathetic failure…

Anyway… here it is:

Far out, all alone in the inky, icy darkness, she waited.

Forgotten, left at the periphery whilst her sexier, louder, and more colourful sisters got all of the attention, she was often overlooked and, occasionally, not even considered part of the family any more.

Sometimes she looked back regretfully at those long-forgotten days when they were all much closer together and things had seemed a lot warmer, before she’d been given the cold shoulder and the star of the show had flung her out into the dark, silent cold.

Outside, she watched and waited, diminished, and sometimes ignored as the rest of them danced their merry dances and hogged all of the warmth, and the bluest of the sisterhood sent out gifts and visited all of her siblings.

One of them even had a ring and yet still got so much attention.

She tried not to be bitter, and she tried pretending not to care, but spending her long, empty days sulking on the outside made such things very difficult.

Then, after a lifetime of loneliness, a small, shining parcel appeared in the distance and, as she looked, started to move towards her instead of veering off towards the bright, gaseous figures that always drew all of the admirers.

Finally, it arrived. A shining, silver gift that meant that she was still loved by her family, and so she showed them that, despite everything, she still had a heart, and she loved them with all of it.

Winning entries can be found at their website here… http://www.faberacademy.co.uk/news/2015/07/quickfic-170715-the-winner/

HAIKU 170715

Life speeds by so fast -

Always worth taking the time

To perambulate

#artwiculate #perambulate #haiku 

FLYKU 160715

Lines across the sky -
Memories of things that passed -
In the recent past

150715

Sometimes a monkey
Just wants to remain an ape -
It's avolition

#artwiculate
#avolition*

*Lack of initiative or goals; one of the negative symptoms of schizophrenia.
*The person may wish to do something, but the desire is without power or energy.

EXTREMES

I feel full of zip, vim and vigour

Full of new hope and stimulation, verve and go

It feels like something’s gone right for a change

A sweet moment of positive notes

Someone took an interest

Somebody took time to care

They wanted to know what I had been doing

And it felt just right and quite fair

So I skipped and I danced round my mind for a while

And told myself things would be fine

I feel defeated and deflated

Like an empty balloon caught in a cactus tree

It all feels like it’s gone wrong just the same

As it always does when I get hope

Nobody took any interest

No-one really seemed to care

And the same sick and familiar cycle

Came calling again with despair

And I crashed and I burned as I always seem to

Plunged back into the dark of my mind

Martin A W Holmes, July 2015

MUSIC-CULL

Grandad he played Hammond Organ

Quite a musician he was in his prime

I imagine he thought that his legacy

Might re-emerge somewhere down the line.

Grandad bought me a half-size guitar

That he hoped I’d learn to play –

But the half-sized strings hurt my fingers

So eventually it was given away.

Grandad bought me a descant recorder

That I tooted through from time-to-time

It’s in its yellow bag in the attic

In a shoebox that I sometimes find.

Grandad bought me a steel harmonica

Made a tuneless racket whenever I’d blow

But I never did manage to play a good tune

So inside a box it just had to go.

Grandad bought sis an upright piano

Well it wasn’t for me, that’s for sure

It hung ’round for years not played very much

And she sold it when she felt quite poor.

Grandad gave up on buying me instruments

He couldn’t find a thing I would play

But now I wish he’d been more persistent

Because I’d love to play music these days.

Martin A W Holmes, July 2015

SUNDAY LUNCHTIME, JULY 5th 2015

Looking out of the window 
Watching the jets
Piercing the clouds 
Catching the sunlight

BLEAKU

Woke up gloomily -
The heaviness of being
A little broken

WORDS OF DISLIKE

Some words do irritate

They’ve become too profligate

So now I’ve begun to postulate

Perhaps I ought to illustrate

You see “everyone” doesn’t mean “everyone”

Despite how things might seem -

When “everyone is talking” about something

It’s seldom me that they can mean

So “everyone” means “some people”

Not anyone I’d like to call

“Some people” means “someone else”

Then “someone else” can be no-one at all

And if we get to a place where “everyone”

Doesn’t mean anyone, civilisations can fall

Perhaps you can relate

Could be I pontificate

Maybe I speculate

Must I reiterate?

Because “brilliant” doesn’t mean “brilliant”

Despite what you might hope –

They’ll tell you everything is “brilliant”

Singing praises for some old rope

So “brilliant” now means “adequate”

Or “something I quite like a bit”

So now all kinds of mediocre rubbish

And any old duff piece of shit

Leaves the truly brilliant to just slink away

Whilst some idiot gets a huge hit

Are you all up to date?

Is it beginning to permeate?

Might take all night at this rate

Yet again I’ll demonstrate

I know that “genius” doesn’t mean “genius”

Even if you’re clever folk

But any old nonsense these days

Gets called “genius” by some blokes

But genius turns up maybe once

Or twice in a lifetime they say

A Leonardo, an Einstein, a Mozart,

Not some geezer from down the café

Who dazzles you with some fancy card trick

Or wrangles words in a vaguely witty way

There can be no debate

Because they ought to legislate

Intervention by the state

Or at least this old reprobate

See… “legendary” doesn’t mean “legendary”

At least not in the way that they mean

One cough and a spit in the limelight

And a “legend” is too soon to be seen

True legends must earn that big label

By standing the true test of time

And sticking around in our memories

Long after their candle has died

And it does kind of help if they’re brilliant

Although being fictional will also be fine

These fools I do berate

They’re far too profligate

Word’s true meaning will negate

So again I’ll regurgitate

We all know that “hero” doesn’t mean “hero”

Not in the way it’s bandied about

These days any fool is a “hero”

Even if they just lark about

Sportsmen and rock stars and actors

Even someone who’s just an old pain -

Yet there are real heroes of course

Dodging bullets and bombs in our name

Worthy of our respect and admiration

And not just because they’ve found fame

Once more I’ll elaborate

My vented spleen to satiate

I know it’s getting late

But at the risk of tempting fate

Nowadays “like” just doesn’t mean “like”

People “like” even when they’re not keen

They’ll click on all sorts of nonsense

Say it’s the ‘best thing that they’ve ever seen”

They’ll tell you your rubbish is “brilliant”

Call you “genius” and all kinds of things

Tell you “everyone” thinks you’re amazing

You’re their “hero” and all that this brings

And when you start to believe in your “legend”

You might find out just how hollow it rings

These words I want to reinstate

The real value of, old mate

I hope it’s begun to penetrate

These over-used words I really… quite dislike.

Martin A W Holmes, July 2015