Monthly Archives: March 2020

Another existential crisis, another essential service rendered. Thanks, Mr Prez, we’re Greatful. So’s the NRA. Maybe overly so.

Finger On The Pulse.

Today some great big minds met,
They left the President greatly upset,
Time’s runnin’ out for the great vacillator,
Better crack on Don, and sooner than later.

Today Dithering Donny has acted decisively- at last,
He’s heard all the pleas, he’s stopped and taken heed,
They’ve Donsplained the facts, he’s gotta act, and fast,
Today Don will address the Republics pressing need.

These brave boys deserve all they can get,
It doesn’t matter if it puts US billions in debt,
Cuomo can waste his breath over some ventilator-
Don’s ‘Merican’s rights are far fu fundemently greater.

The days of worrying about social distancing have passed,
The gloves are off, your personal safety Don’s guaranteed,
You can march up to your gun shop now and have a blast,
Donald’s sure shootin for Team NRA in word act and deed.

Yeah, yeah, the rhyme pattern goes AABB to ABAB, but after today- shoot me.

 

©Obbverse

From heights Olympian to the hum drum. I read a frazzled woman’s blog, I heard her frustration and imagined her next step. (Too much time on my scrubbed clean covid and germ-free hands, I imagine.)

Left In The Dust.

At school I’d daydream through the long boring classes,
Heroic tales of Hera and Hercules, so the lesson passes.

Exchanging today’s tedium’s for yesterday’s mythic stories,
Tall tales of ancient battles, of Achilles and Paris’s vain glories.

These days I’ve a Hades of a life, dragging the kids out of bed,
Getting ’em washed and fresh-faced and dressed and fed.

No honeyed milk nor sweet ambrosia bless this houses breakfast table,
Three growing boys, fling in food fights and I’m left an Augean stable.

Packed lunches, back packs and pack ’em in the Minivan;
Every morning this Moms labors become more Herculean.

Whatever happened to those long lost schoolgirl’s dreams?
Romantic fantasies of Helen of Troy, of a thousand triremes?

…Waiting at the red light, back to the past I absently wander
Till horns and a green light remind me my Odyssey’s a Honda.

The journey to school has all the usual boystrous push and shove,
A display of more pokes pinches and punches than brotherly love.

Spilling out the sliding door, off with nary a backward glance,
I’m rueing too many wasted days- and three nights of romance.

The Greek God I thought loved me eternally now no longer cares,
I naively married a Narcissus interested in his silly human affairs.

This ever-smiling mother, his secondary lover is going to disappear,
There is a Troy, a Carthage, Athens, Paris, Texas- anywhere but here.

 

Obbverse

Smiling glad-handing back-slapping Boris Johnson is going to have to dial back his endless flow of bonhomie, at least for a while. Finally, someone can tell him to give it a rest.

Wake Up Call.

It’s a dark day behind the black door at 10 Downing street,
Boris’s short tenure here isn’t going quite as he’d planned-
From victory over Brexit and savouring Labours defeat
To solitary confinement in the best address in the land.

He can’t simply shamble outdoors, he can’t meet or greet,
Stuck in bed, sat at home at the doctors express command,
His tousled look looks too real, with his pale face white as a sheet?
Nah, not even his (gl)amorous girlfriend wants to take his… hand.

 

©Obbverse

Prince Charles is feeling a little poorly, thanks to some common and ordinary unpleasant little virus.

Buck Up Chuck.

Be you rich man, poor man, beggar man or thief
This common coronavirus’ virulence beggars belief,
Now poor Prince Charles, perpetual king in waiting
Lies in the royal bed chamber, genteelly expectorating
Into his hand-woven silken Union Jack of a handkerchief.

 

 

©Obbverse

When he runs the greatest economy in the world, the President tells us when and where the buck stops.

Pay Dirt.

This all started just like a touch of common flu-
Nothing a president couldn’t power through,
But then people sickened, they started to cough,
Took to their sick beds, and, worse, sick days off.

Soon the busy president made it crystal clear-
News of a pandemic he did not wish to hear,
No way would he let his ‘Merica  shut up shop,
A stalled economy- why, life might as well stop!

Now for this profit president, suddenly so much is at stake,
Wow, now see him go, (though he was slow on the uptake,)
Don now tells everyone, stay a healthy six feet apart-
Pity he’s given the virus a GreaT big flying head start.

But he’s never been a man renowned for his patience,
Now the prez wants to fast-track this testing of patients,
Donald demands an overnight cure for this dark disease-
Suddenly there’s a light at the end of the tunnel only he sees.

His brilliant plan B is to wish and pray this illness away,
He’s aiming to have the churches packed in on Easter day,
Some brave Bishop please tell him that would be a blunder,
Ironically, stories of resurrection might put one six feet under.

 

©Obbverse

I know we should keep our social distancing and we’ll have to make our own entertainment but can I quickly share this, Hollywood style?

Two perspectives.

His view.

It’s all bad news,
Unconfined doom and gloom,
It’s all greys and blues,
Tucked up in my tiny room.

Her view.

Isn’t life just fine,
Isn’t life too rich?
Corona’s picked up Harv Weinstein;
Harvey, is not karma a bitch?

 

©Obbverse

Kenny Rogers, country music legend, grizzled old Gambler and hoarse whisperer heads off to his last rodeo.

All In.

Kenny Rogers has sung his last country song,
He’s laid down his cards and moseyed along,
Kenny won’t be singing over being done wrong
By Lucille,
His good luck’s run out after being in for so long;
Bad deal.

 

 

©Obbverse

This Covid-19 panic-buying is simply sick, bordering on the irrational. Just wander down to your local Ralph’s and observe, if you dare.

Patience, Zero.

I’m sick of staying home, and bored,
All that sage advice would be ignored,
I went down to Ralph’s, I joined the horde;
No-one tells this shopper ‘don’t go overboard.’

There’s folk flippin’ out all over the place-
C’mon guys, give a man some personal space-
I need to grab a few more toilet rolls, just in case-
And don’t dare laugh, splutter or cough in my face.

When my sweet spouse
Saw me out of the house
She handed me a gunny sack
Said, ‘fill it or don’t come back.’

Yes, I have my ID, why do you ask?
Oh yeah, I’m hidden behind my mask,
I’ve been charged with but one lawful task,
‘More toilet rolls and sanitizer, buy the cask.’

My hands are full of toilet rolls, the full gross,
Cashier, keep your distance, don’t come too close,
I’ll swipe my card, gimme my receipt and I’ll say ‘adios,’
I should be home, in my sick bed, not risking a second dose.

 

©Obbverse.

In these Coronavirus times of trouble, proof of good fellowship is just around the corner. If not, let’s shop around. (Somewhat sad and somewhat true.)

Stripped Clean.

I thought it was time to do a quick shop,
Down to my local grocer I’d quickly pop,
But when I stepped in, lo and behold
There was scarcely much left to be sold.

No, there was not a lot left of anything,
The shop held naught but a hollow ring,
Dick’s hadn’t been this empty in many a day,
Bare shelves made his an embarrassing display.

No soap spray, no eggs, no milk, no flour, no pasta,
This little shopping trip was looking a major disaster,
No tinned tuna, no baked beans, scarcely a grain of rice
And I wouldn’t buy Dick’s old chicken sushi at any price.

The manager sidled up, whispered in my ear
That because I was a regular customer here
He could offer me an under-the-counter deal,
But his little bargain soon sounded like a steal.

If I wanted a dab of hand sanitiser I was in luck,
For me, a mere twenty bucks, fresh off the truck,
And a one-off offer of a singularly prized toilet roll-
For another twenty, and the promise of a mortal soul.

After two minutes of character assessment, (time well spent,)
I looked him in the shifty eye and out his dark door I went,
It’s wonderful to be reminded that when in times of need
One common thing humanity never runs short of is greed.

 

©Obbverse

The media says President Trump is keen on obtaining a GreaT exclusive Coronavirus vaccine from his good friends in Germany. As always, with Good Deal Don, there is a catch.

The GreaT American Hero.

With the world awash with Covid nineteen
PresiDon wants to buy his very own vaccine,
In Germany they’re making progress on a cure-
Now there’s a Company Don wishes to procure.

It would be for the US and us alone,
And with stocks dropping like a stone
Don knows there is a deal to be made-
Well, ain’t that just Don’s stock in trade?

While the whole world reels as the killing virus bites
Don sees a great deal of potential in world-wide rights,
Don doesn’t want a single red voting ‘Merican to get sick,
In Don’s world he’s quite immune to consciences tiny prick.

 

©Obbverse