I'll have a nice wee sunset, please.
WYR listen to Slipknot or eat chalk?
Tough question, that. I'd say racing motorcycle.
Analogue (film) or digital camera?
Whipped cream.
Union or independence?
In a silent butler.
There's a violent Cutler.
He swashes buckles
and buckles swashes,
every day, his face he washes,
then he dons his big, huge galoshes,
haunts some ships and plots revenge.
Until one day, his undoing comes,
foiled again, by those meddling kids!
Before she puts on a dress that's not too hot,
she checks the weather again.
"It's been ridiculously hot, and it's such rot!"
By magic, one appears!
"Thanks, Fears."
She looks sad.
"If only."
His signature outfit, he dons.
"One day, Donnie, you'll be Dawn."
His secret spills out of his eyes,
and he goes about his day.
Empty.
The world isn't ready for "him" to be "her".
Like nothing is real,
but he's starting to feel,
is he lost, or is he about to heal?
Only time will tell,
but I can say one thing:
His shell is not empty.
Okay, so I'm trying to make this simple as possible, since the las thread I started was a bit convoluted. Well, the premise is simple: Describe a word with accurate, but misleading clues, just as a crossword might incuding letter count, the next person guesses it, then poses their own word description. I'll start:
An instrument; typically with four strings, garners a lot of puns, basically.
Word: Booze.
Meaning: An alcoholic drink, or to drink alcohol, especially in large quantities.
Reason: Because that's what today shall be filled with!
Safe on their next vacation,
or were they?
It was a staycation,
which didn't hold much elation,
for no matter where they go,
they just ain't safe.
Take the last vacation:
They fell off a cliff!
Before that, they entered Satan's bunghole
(that was a whiff!)
Never safe, they took the staycation,
at leas if they got killed at the station,
their funerals would be in the same country.
Unless they got sliced and diced...
...Oh, Christ!
And that's the end of the unlucky bunch!
The object of this game is deceptively simple: Make an anagram of the previous word, but add or subtract one letter. No abbreviations, acronyms or contractions allowed.
Example: "Want" can become "Tawny", but can't become "Wont" (a particular person's behaviour) or "Won't" (shortened for of "will not") because in the case of "Wont", a letter wasn't added or subtracted and in the case of "Won't", it's a contraction. We clear? Then go forth and have fun! I'll start off with an easy one:
Begin.
Dark colours, for my cold, dark soul.
Soaps and stuff like that: Mass manufactured or handmade in small batches?
So, it turns out that I probably don't have carpal tunnel syndrome, after all. I got the results of my EMG, and they say that there's no significant compression of the nerves. I'm still having CTS-like symptoms, so guess what? Yeah, you guessed it, it's time to go back to the doctor and see if anything more can be done. I'm probably going to wait another year or so before getting any kind of indication as to what it MIGHT be. Fuck, right?
On Monday, I have a hospital appointment. Admittedly, I'm bricking it, but also quite happy that I might have some answers. For those who don't know, I've been battling with wrist pain, tingling, numbness and just all sorts of horrible afflictions of the wrist. Truth be told, it's not just my wrists, but my whole arms. Yeah, both of them. My GP suspects carpal tunnel syndrome, so has referred me to the hospital for electromyography, or nerve conduction testing. I've waited 14 months for this. I've been in pain for about two years. I'm ready, though scared. I'll be okay. I'll endure and survive.
They were standing near a waterfall.
Then they plummeted to their deaths.
It was 1983, a dull, boring day.
Nothing about it was gay,
there were just clouds of grey.
It rained that day,
their light was taken from the world that day;
they fell off a cliff.
New poem would still be good,
and so would food,
like wind on a fresh autumn day,
Hey!
A glimmer of light in winter
is much appreciated, too,
an ice lolly in summer,
and the ability to be with you
is just braw.
Rain, shine, name that weather,
come whatever season,
I will always want to be with you.
Jeff
finds it difficult to write a poem
when the first line is just one word.
He wishes the poster above would stop it,
but I'm just wondering:
Who the hell is Jeff?
Lips,
are very important,
or so they say.
Northern, southern, it don't matter,
I'll like whatever they chatter.
Much better by far,
is going to the bar.
Drinks galore,
and much, much more.
Vodka, lager, cider and rum!
Don't drink too much,
or the landlord will kick your bum!
That wouldn't be much fun.
Way.
Way-hey!
Way-hey-hey!
It keeps the loonies at bay,
so shout it loud...
Wait, what? You're a loony?
Fuck off, then!
Am outta here.
Do not start again,
or I'll stab you with a pen
and dump your body in the Thames.
Violent thoughts?
Perish the thought!
I've just lost the plot,
the plot of what?
I do not know, not a jot!
So, don't make me mad
because I'm already insane,
you hear me?
Ya damned, great flea!