Safe and Sound

They’ve risk assessed binge drinking,
And now it’s safe as soap.
They’ve rendered vodka harmless,
And plan the same for dope.

The electrics have been grounded.
The fluids ? Reservoired.
All sharp points have been blunted,
And they’ve checked each circuit board.

Fat meat’s back on the menu
(Cholesterol is good.)
And have no fear when strolling
In that drug gang’s neighborhood.

The studies are conclusive
And there’s no margin of error.
So flap your arms when jumping
And have no twitch of terror.

One Happiness

You just need One Happiness ;
The rest doesn’t matter.
Ascendant and soulful –
The lonely times scatter.

The shops try to sell it
At prices outrageous ;
But what is the value
Of feelings contagious ?

And how do you winnow
The many to One ?
And screen out the misery /
Phase in the fun ?

One love and one trust
In one life – all a part.
Commitments are honored
When bound with one heart.

Random Thoughts, Ignited by Recent Events at the Large Hedron Collider in Switzerland

It was not their intention
To give you a fright,
But they seem to have
Found something faster than light.

Oh…the ‘they’ means the docs
Who observe how light speeds,
Thinking this is a key
Thing the human race needs.

After which I reply :
‘Light’s enough for me, please ;
But I’d love to hear what
Caused the holes in your cheese!’

This would really enlighten,
And set the world right.
But let’s look at other
Things faster than light:

My daughter when finding
A spider in bed;
Some drivers when traffic
Lights turn green from red.

‘Shopaholics’ when told
Something’s priced for a song;
Or a spouse when she’s
Found that you’ve done something wrong.

The taxman, when you’ve made a
Goof and not paid ;
A rock star who hears that
His flight’s been delayed.

Consider light-beating neutrinos!
(More explosive than eating baked beanos?)
They arrive unexpected
In a way undetected
As the docs toast their brilliance with vinos.

Sumfin Wot I Roat in Skool, Emprooved By Teechur

Kiss, Don’t Miss
Hug, Don’t Slug
Luv, Don’t Shuv.
Love, Don’t Shove.

Fly, Don’t Lie
Make, Don’t Fake
Kreate, Don’t Hayt.
Create, Don’t Hate.

Simplify, Don’t Amplify
Empathize, Don’t Rationalize
Democratize, Don’t Autocratize
Distinguish, Don’t Extinguish
Illuminate, Don’t Eliminate
Expostulate, Don’t Excommunicate.

Bee, Don’t, Flea.
Be, Don’t Flee.

Me and Thee

There's an ocean between us
(I'd prefer it a puddle)
It's my ego and I
Got us into this muddle.

There's a land mass between us
(I'd prefer it a garden)
For your heart's with another
And I've forced mine to harden.

There's a galaxy gap
(But I crave inner space)
And the moon's a reflection
Of your lovely face.

Tidalia

'The land may vary more
But wherever truth may be -
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea.'
- Robert Frost

(What is it of that fluid edge
That keeps us all in thrall ?
That justifies the seeker's pledge
But makes us feel so small ?)

I reach for her, and she for me -
My endless mirror: the sea, the sea.
On far horizon's line she keeps
The mysteries of her tawny deeps.
But here on my loved rocky shore,
With noisy breakers by the score,
I manage what lies in my reach,
And search for treasures on the beach.

The Horn, Silenced

The dust from the shuffling of a million feet,
Obscuring the sun in its appalling heat.
The mothers and children, the men without herds,
Moving forward towards nothing - looking back without words.

The borders are blurred when the drought is complete,
And the crops turn to dust under shuffling feet.
There's a way to the camp, with the promise of water,
So a couple move on with the corpse of their daughter.

Kwashiorkur relentless, and the young will die first -
Armageddon triumphant (malnutrition and thirst.)
Still the warlords deny all the death in their land,
Though the harvest's a bounty of dust, dirt and sand.

At the gate stand two thugs, and they greet with a shove;
Still the couple persist with their bundle of love.
Join the mob at the truck, where the water's in flight,
Then the search for a roof, and some ground for the night.

I have seen quite enough, so I switch off the news,
And I head for the fridge for a couple of brews.
While a husband and wife face a hole in the ground,
And the mummified death of a love that they'd found.

Then I reach for a pen, pop a cheque in the post,
For an easing of guilt, then I'm done - well, almost.
I should do it again in a week, month or year;
For the need will continue beyond this, I fear.

And the pair walk away to an uncertain fate,
Just two pawns on the board of Somalian hate.
Now a wind swirls the dust on that long-barren plain,
Where a cross on a grave marks unbearable pain.