Author Archives: obbverse

About obbverse

I'd like to think I'm a wary optimist in a glass half-empty kind of a world. I try to to find humour in the world. Humour, even black humour can light the darkest situation, if that’s not a contradiction! I love the twists and turns, the layers and half-steps that is the English language. Books, imagination are important to me. Ever since I was a kid I found if you have imagination you're never alone, lonely or sad. Just turn the page. I enjoy travel, under the usual financial constraints, and being a parent helps in not letting me become a moody introspective naval gazer. I hope. let me meditate on that... At the end of the day if you can't laugh at life's idiocy, you can at least smile. Wryly. In a crazy Trumpean world, if you can't smile, there's only despair, and let's not go there. Smile.

The Duke of Edinburgh is involved in a collision. Time for a crash course in Driver Ed, Phil? (Joking aside, get well Guv.)

Flip Toff.

The Queens consort HRH Prince Phillip
Drove away in his stately Range Rover,
A crash with a Kia caused his conveyance to tip
And the high riding Rover rolled over.

The Prince still drives well at ninety-seven
Though he’s a little shaky on the Highway Code,
Was he sun-dazzled, or did he see a glimpse of Heaven?
Phillip feels no need to head down that road.

Is it time for Prince Phillip to accept defeat,
Flog the posh Rover at some common market?
Give up the wheel and take a back seat
And royally park it?

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Hi ho, hi ho, where did my three week holiday go? New years resolutions are already taking a battering. (Part four of Hi ho, hi ho.)

Bouncing Back.

Well, I survived my first crazy week back at work
Even though my jerk of a boss drove me berserk.

By Friday I was creeping toward the edge of sanity,
Scarcely able to control my temper, or my profanity.

After my three-week Zen retreat, let’s say, diplomatically
That prat Rich has been acting like a complete prize… dickily.

Hi ho, hi ho, and back at work I am. The holidays are fading, the new year is really here, and reality bites. (Hi Ho, part three.)

Dogsbody.

It’s back to my dead-end job, back to the hard slog,
And straight back into harness, mush, like a sled dog.

Back under the boss’s beady eye and curled lip,
Shrinking from that tongue that cuts like a whip.

But soon I’ll break and snap back, ’cause, as they say
Even a good dog will have their bloody bad day.

So much for Hi Ho, off to work we joyously go… Guess I’ve got them post-holiday blues.

Workaday.

Oh, yes, it’s back to work I’ve gone,
Here I am, sat upon my sit-upon,

Gazing blankly at a blinking screen
Brooding on the good days just been,

Looking out at a bright bright sunshiny day
Thinking darkly ‘Christmas is 333 days away.’

Hi ho, hi ho, oh no! It’s off to work we go. Oh, woe is me.

No Holiday Camp.

Tomorrow is the day of reckoning,
The joy of gainful employment is beckoning.

Say, for another year
‘I’m happy to be here.’

After my holidays my joyous job holds no allure,
From vacation to vocation, it’s my job to endure.

Don comes up against the Democrats, and they keep on stonewalling him. It’s lucky (and a relief) Don remains so restrained and constrained.

Childs Play.

Into each life a little rain must fall
And for Donny it has begun to spit,
He can’t get his way and get his wall,
Aww, poor babe, Don can’t get over it.

When it’s the rich privileged life you live,
Of having it made, and always being obeyed,
When it’s always take take take and never give
Don’t tell Don to take lemons and make lemonade.

Don asks for nothing more
Than to simply have his way,
So off he goes, and slams the door-
Left, and gone with nothing good to say.

But it is not Don’s way to quietly sit and pout,
To sob in silence, save for the tears sad patter patter,
And so, in true tantrumpian fashion Don lets it all out-
Taking all that crap against his wall ain’t no piddling matter.

Not much help, being a blubber-mouth when a strong voice is required. Words can fail me sometimes, but my family never does.

In My Eye.

I sat misty eyed all through the eulogy,
Fine words heard makes it hard to see,
When my daughter rose I went to her side,
To stand strong, some comfort to provide.

If she faltered with her words I’d said
I’d take on the recitation in her stead,
But when I stood forth, as if to speak
Well, damn my eyes, they began to leak.

I had said I would speak up without a quaver
But on looking down the words began to waver,
So I stood by, mournfully manfully staunching my eye,
Ah, but my daughter spoke far more eloquently than I.