Category Archives: weltshmertz

When the team you support’s been soundly beaten, some humble pie must be sadly eaten. England 19, All Blacks 7.

Black Out.

Would our mighty All Blacks stack up?
Could our twice World Cup winners back up?
How many points agin the Poms would we rack up?

But those big bad butt-ugly Blighty boys broke our attack up,
An hour in and its either reach for the Prozac or crack up-
At full time its back to the Hotel to weep, then pack up.

Another winning writers contest comes and goes. Just what makes for a funny submission? Who knows? (Not bitter or twisted, just befuddled.)

Nolo Contendere.

Checked my E-mails, same old dull routine,
Then a new missive lights my dull grey screen,
News from a competition entered loooong ago,
Click ‘open’, oh, but don’t get my hopes up though.

I’ve so hoped for the best before,
And I’d be disappointed once more.

Again, rejection, painful but not unexpected,
Again my select name amongst the unselected,
But after a sigh, a roll of the eyes and a rueful smile
I thought I’d read what wonders had topped the pile.

Perhaps, judging by the mood I was in
I shouldn’t judge- but where can I begin?

One thing required in a humourous poem contest
Is content that leaves one laughing, not depressed,
I’ll agree it is the good judges call to be fair, firm and tough
And I’ll allow my work this year- and hers- ain’t good enough.

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.

Flicking through the ol’ holiday papers and stumbled across last years news. There, in the obituaries, it’s still sad news to see.

Off The Hook. (Ray Sawyer, Adieu.)

He sang songs about proper mothers and Rolling Stone covers
And keeping his beautiful woman away from wannabe lovers,
But Ray, lay down the cowboy hat, the eye patch and say ‘see ya later’
To Sylvia’s formidable mother and that bitchy long distance operator,
Put aside those sly wry songs, sung with a knowing wink of the eye,
Hang up your hat, hang up the phone, let it go, it’s time for goodbye. ¬†