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Mr. Boris Johnson My wish in boyhood was to be world king— Rex Alexander Boris sounded cool. Buoyed up by Eton, steeped in Oxford bling, One knew one's path to kingship: play the fool! Real choice is hard, so I distract and duck. I'd rather do a photo op or two. Since I have mastered how to pass the buck, Jokes reign. You'd never know I have no clue! ... Oh, damn! The Dom has dropped his bomb! He leaks His evidence I'm shiftily inept. No holds are barred: Revenge means Tory cliques Should know what Boris wrecks—no secrets kept! ... One should be careful what one wishes for. Now I am Boris Wrex forevermore! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on May 3, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
Ichthyic Physic I asked my doctor:"What prescription could Cure my addiction to my codeine fix?" He said: "What I prescribe will be for good— This here will stop you shooting up for kicks!" He wrote: "Go fishing, morning, noon and night. You cast your line, and you do NOT let go. Its healing power comes when fishes bite, Cocooning you in calmness. You will glow! ... Provided you grip firmly—with both hands— Holistic ichthyic physic's bound to cure Your ailment— trust me, Doctor understands!" ... So I've been cured. But how? I'm far from sure It's fishing—I believe my double grip Curbed reaching for my needle for a trip! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on May 10, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
Cuppas In Crisis Campaigners for Green Britain can't relax Until their eco-friendly future's here. Persuading Brits to give old ways the axe Presents a hurdle that is tough to clear ... Although ... it's up against the nation's brew, Sipped both to make you sleep and wake you up, Imbibed at times to pump fresh oomph in you, Now gulped to calm you down—this tasty cup Can cure all woes, their opposites, and more ... Reductions in the global tea supply Imperil Britain's core belief: I pour, So I exist ... One can't stand idly by— If tea's in danger, climate change is fact. So activists relax—now Brits will act! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on May 17, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
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Chicken-Brained? Centurial achievers, asked why they Have lived so long, will credit certain things In what they eat or drink, or how they play: Cards, crosswords, dancing, May-December flings, Kale, chocolate, tea, Bourbon, spuds, whole grains, Eliminating dairy, adding wine ... Now, to this mix, must we add chicken brains, Broiled lightly once a week to taste divine?— Ranchero Dexter Kruger, who is now Australia's most senior living dude, Is crediting small bites of chick-brain chow! ... Nutritionists won't say if Dexter's food Extends your life—yet bird brains, it appears, Do help you reach your triple-digit years! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on May 24, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
The Rosary Thief The case is simple, Chief Inspector Japp! Hercule Poirot will analyze all leads, Employing grey cells in his thinking cap, Revealing who has stolen golden beads! ... Our thief looks like a foreigner with clout. Sounds Russian? And his motive? Who gains most Advantage if Joe Biden, who's devout, Receives a gift-wrapped rosary by post, Yet doesn't know it's from a foreign foe? This mastermind of diplomatic woes Had hoped to plant his stolen goods on Joe. It does not work. And why? ... Because Poirot's Exceptional finesse connecting dots Finds Putin's who robbed Mary, Queen of Scots! (Prompted by this article and first published in Oddball Magazine on June 7, 2021. A variant of this poem later appeared in the Daily Mail) |
Rhodes Not Taken "Revere old Cecil Rhodes! It's not his fault He helped apartheid prosper!" That's one view ... "Offload his statue to some distant vault! Don't overlook his guilt, he surely knew!" Encapsulates the view the others take ... Supporters on each Oxford side dig in: No Rhodes defender wants the bank to break, Opponents feel besmirched by Cecil's sin ... The sculptor Gormley, who's a Cambridge man, Thinks he knows how to quell this battleground: Allowing Rhodes on Oxford's High Street can Keep both sides happy if he's turned around, Exposing his behind to shame and pain— Now till forever lashed by Oxford rain! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on June 7, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |