Category Archives: mortality

A little rework of the Lizzie (Bloody Berserk) Borden axeident-waiting-to-happen story. Not a family friendly story, Lizzie.

Whack Job.

Lizzie Borden took an axe to her dear old Dad,
His constant cutting her down drove her mad,
Yet even as he fell victim to foul patricide
He felt for his wild child a slice of paternal pride;
She’d proved she came from hard-working Irish stock,
With a chip on her shoulder, a real chip off the old block.

Maw was not best pleased with what she saw,
She stood, in bits and pieces, looking over Paw,
Stepmum looked appealingly at step-daughter
Hoping Lizzie would settle for manslaughter,
She hoped to survive and to head off any scandal
‘Cause Liz and the axe had both flown off the handle.

But Lizzie produced from under her pinafore a hatchet-
Lizzie had her plan and she planned to despatch it,
She did not hear her stepmums pleas of ‘Stop! Stop!’
Lizzie was keen to get stuck in, chop chop.
What a pity dear old Dad, so recently laid to rest
Didn’t see Liz working away like a woman possessed.

But since the trial our Lizzie is doing well,
No longer constrained in her padded cell
She’s free to glumly walk the guarded grounds,
She dourly nods at the Doc doing his rounds,
That tragic face rarely bears an authentic smile,
But sometimes, as she lingers by the wood pile…

Advertisements

Don goes to Paradise. Don’t he and Governor Jerry Brown checking out the fire damage make an incongruous pair?

Trouble In Paradise?

Over Paradise falls a dark and stifling pall,
The President has decided to call,
He’s in a Blue State, showing humanitarian concern,
It’s enough to make his red Republican heart burn.

The sight is enough to make Don hyperventilate-
That senseless loss of all that high-end real estate.

As Don steps around the smoking debris
His discomfiture is plain for all to see,
Don can barely stand to be seen walking beside Jerry Brown,
His burning desire is to hot foot it out of town.

Though we see Don and Jerry standing together
Any friendship will prove as fickle as the weather.

This place is not where Don wants to dwell,
This piece of Paradise has gone to Hell,
He’s fielding a few burning questions from the few townsfolk,
Don cannot wait to get his butt back to the Big Smoke.

Don leaves, with, as an afterthought, a prayer-
Usually offered when smoke and cordite fill the air.

Attraction, emotions, romance, true love, love proven… a period of waiting… marriage, then happy ever after. Ain’t love grand?

Post Nuptial.

I’m special, not the sort of person
Who’d marry any old sort of person
Pregnant or not to him.

We could never become that sort of people,
The kind who find they resort to other people;
Tied by the trusty knot, me and him.

But I became another person
When he came in another person.
This widow’s well shot of him.

The crown weighs heavy on the Head at times. These are right royal troubling times. So show a little sympathy, please.

Pardon The Subject.

After a fresh new dawn, clear and bright
Dark times have come for the kingdoms Lord,
Another wrong to right, another obituary to write
When he who wields the pen yields to the sword.

(I try to leaven these posts with a bit of humor. I can’t see much to smile about on some of the days these day though.)

Late at night, trawling through the channels and I fell upon this tender offering from the past. So serious, so silly, so… If any fans feel distraught about this all I can offer is, ‘sorry- grow up.’

The Vampire Diatribes.

First Entry.

The full moon shone down, bright and clear
As she left the pub full of cider and good cheer,
When from out of the shadows ol’ Dracula did appear
She gave out a cry as down her thigh ran a…frisson of fear.

This sure put a dampener on the nights atmosphere.

The Count slid towards her with a lecherous leer,
She feared this was her dying day as he drew near,
As his fangs grazed her neck she whispered in his ear
Bitter words no salivating vampire ever desires to hear.

Immodest confessions no fair Catholic maid could volunteer.

She has developed quite the reputation round here,
Has an accommodating nature that’s sure to endear,
Her maidenhood hadn’t withstood her sixteenth year,
She’d long laid her honor to rest, and not shed one tear.

So while she’s lying safely abed, Drac’s crying in his bier.

Another mad day at work. Sometimes and some days you wish you could be well shot of this sort of ….

Twenty-Four Hours, And Counting.

Three mass shootings in one day-
It’s just another day in the USA.

A mere five hospitalized in Syracuse?
That damp squib scarcely made the news.

Five injured in Middleton plus one dead perp-
Thank God he didn’t channel Wyatt Earp.

Four gone to glory in Maryland,
Unusually by a maids not-so-fair hand.

Yet another disgruntled employee with a gun
Hell-bent on making her last day a memorable one.

Living in the gun-tottin’ Land of the Free is GREAT;
The worry is surviving the workday without winding up late.

Three mass shootings in one day-
Sadly, just another day in the USA.