GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twenty-eight

Today we write about poems


I could write about any number of poems that I have read
Over the many years that I have been reading poetry.
There have been short poems, long poems,
Ones that rhyme, ones that do not rhyme,
Ones with a regular metre, ones that ramble and meander to the end of their lines
And then drift onto the next line as well and

sometimes into the next stanza.
But on poem has stayed with me, and seems
To grow in impact as we live through
This month of fools.

"History repeats itself.
Has to.
No-one listens."

It is short, but it is so much to the point,
And I do not know why I am trying to
Write new poetry when these three
Simple lines say everything that everyone else
Has ever said.

There have always been fools.
There will always be fools.
We are all sailing on the ship of fools.

(c) 2ndwitch, 28/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twenty-seven

Today we rewrite the bard, with a twist.

And when you're older, darling
And wrinkled like an unironed shirt
Those guys who stare at you now
Will seem to matter not at all.
And if they ask why you are ugly now
And why have you not taken care to age well,
Then say, from within the depth of your soul,
That the fools have shamed us, now folly wins
And the ephemeral beauty of a firework
Lasts longer than the beauty of the fool
And his child will know naught beyond the excuse
And will inherit the earth by folly laid bare.
     If only we knew then what we know today
     How different might our actions be today.

(c) 2ndwitch, 27/04/19

("When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
     This were to be new made when thou art old,
     And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold."
Shakespeare Sonnet II )

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twenty-four

Today we consult a thesaurus.


The thesaurus is a dinosaur that has survived into the modern world.

The child flips open the pages and looks at the words hidden within.

The fool sees words and cannot understand this is not a dictionary.

And so the legacy continues      
                  there is an antidote to folly in its venerable pages
                  but the fool sees it as a counter-measure against his efforts.
             the dinosaurs existed in antiquity, roaming an earth
             devoid of fools, and golden olden day.
         the wise are apathetic, seeing only pain and a hopeless
         future, the fools unconcerned beyond themselves.
     the would be wise are apprehensive, the ship is sailing
     into uncharted waters, disturbed by new currents.
 And the ones who advise have only approximate answers
 To offer, no balm to soothe the rough pain of what is to come.

And yet the ship prepares to sail, to leave behind that which
Is familiar, and to sacrifice the wise who urge caution
In order to preserve the interests of fools.
The fools are dinosaurs, left walking a modern earth
Searching for an age long gone, that lives now only in their imaginations.

(C) 2ndwitch, 24/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twentyone

Today we visit a zoo.

The small voice is buried in a cacophony of sound
And the chimps and cockatiels
Parade their endless superiority
In a hall bound in wood, polished and smoothed
With the arguments of ages and the passing
Swish of ancient gowns.
There used to be a reason when first men
Came to this house and sat beside other men.
In those other days there were reasons
And the eldritch scream of debate was a distant
Echo warning of things to come.
Late nights with port and belching pigs
That have feasted on ill-gotten spoils.
Penguins on parade through the lobbies
Whilst in the viewing gallery the naked apes
Watch as a feeding frenzy is enveloped in
Calling cats and the keeper tried to keep order.
The small voice is still there, but the naked apes
Can shout louder, and the brass monkeys
Chatter and squeal as they take all
The available bananas.

(c) 2ndwitch, 21/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twenty

Today we debate.

She told me it would be okay
"It'll be fine, stop worrying"
But even then I had my doubts,
Someone else said to have patience
"Just take your time, you'll get there"
But those words sounded as a cracked bell.
You see, my dear, when life is
A constant parade of fools, each
More braggart than the last, it is
Hard to judge the truth and
Even harder to stay true to yourself.

(c) 2ndwitch, 20/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Nineteen

Today we consider the alphabet.

A ship of fools
Bound for glory
Carrying no knowledge, but
Denying
Everything.
Fools, the crew, and
Guesswork informs
How they set sail.
In case of emergency
Just break open a bottle, and
Kill another pheasant.
Lemon, with your gin?
More red wine in the sauce?
No need to worry about
Others,
Poor people,
Quite how they manage
Remains a mystery, and out of our
Sight.
Tuck in to
Underdone steak and
Vintsge
Wine, watching
X-rated films for free,
You need not ever pay because
 . . . this is a democracy ruled
by an out of control ship of fools
whose final destination is known not
even to the captain.
Whoever she may be.

(c) 2ndwitch, 19/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Thirteen

Today we are mysterious.

There is a ghost that is really in charge.
There is evidence.
There are promises but they are not fulfilled.
There are people's whose wishes they willed
Have been ignored and refused
Whose beings are cursed and abused.
There are threats of evils and pain
Made again, and again and again,
And again, by the fools
Who make their own rules,
And the wise who have sense
Are left sad, and incensed
At the mysterious way that
Nobody seems to be in charge.

(c) 2ndwitch, 13/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twelve

Today is a dull day.

The highlights of life attract the passing glance
And hold it, transfixed, for a moment of frozen time.
It is the lights we recall, not the dark sky they
Are set against, it is the sparkle of the tinsel
Not the dull green of the tree.
Or is it?
Is what we really remember the contrast
Of light and dark, of bright and dull?

We recall the promise on the bus, and the
Threats of immigrants and losing our identity
And these are set in stark contrast against the
Realities of economic forecasts and
Canceled educational exchanges.
The desire to have a blue passport
Stands out, and the loss of a research project
In renewable energy seems distant and
Rather boring.
Rather dull.
But yet, in the end, when all is said and done,
When the shouting is over, and the dust has settled,
Then we will realise that it was the dull things
That we really needed and cared about all along.
And then the words of the wise, drowned out
At the time in the cacophony of fools,
Will sing out sadly but true.
When it is too late, and the fools
Have gained their empty victory.

(c) 2ndwitch, 12/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day Three

Today we recount the life of a fool.

Born into an old house, resplendent with dark polished oak,
And burnished silver, dancing light from oil lanterns
Scurried and hurried to carry the news.
Raised in an old nursery, where nanny was starched and stiffened,
And her breathing played a backing track to a life
Of isolated privilege.
Taught in an old school, with masters whose gowns carried chalk
And blackboard rubbers in the swinging sleeves,
And who wielded a ready cane.
Educated in an old university, where the polished oak was sported
Or not, and where the days were spent on the river,
And reading was a rare thing.
Employed in an old trade, where discipline was exercised
Exactly as it had been by nanny in the old nursery,
And privilege was essential.

The old ways of the fool have meandered from pillar to post
Over many years, decades, even centuries of traditions that
Have lead to the day when the fool is in charge.
And then the fool is the one who considers all others
To be fools, and who laughs behind the closed doors of
And old and corrupted way of not living.

(c) 2ndwitch, 03/04/19

GloPoWriMo2019 Day One

Today is a day of fools.

We are told, from early in our lives,
To listen when someone is talking to us,
To take notice,
To do as we are told.
We are told, from early in our lives,
That they know what they are doing,
That they will do their best,
That they know what is best for us.

So why do I think they are wrong?
Why do I think I should never have listened?
Why do they keep ignoring common sense?
Why am I so worried?

I was told, I was instructed, that privilege
And education fitted those who had them
For a role in charge of life.
I was told, I was instructed, that those
Who were privileged and educated
Knew better than the rest and
Had a duty to be in charge of life.

The old order has broken.
We should no longer listen.
We should take notice only to oppose.
We should challenge.
We should disobey.

There is no new order,
And the ship of fools
Has left the harbour
And taken all sense with it.
We are alone and betrayed.
We believed in the fools.

(c) 2ndwitch, 01/04/19