Computer

Computer

I’ve asked Computer to help write a poem today

So far he’s not complying.

I’m sitting here with fingers poised

But he’s not even trying!

Since he’s supposed to be so smart,

He should find it a breeze

To write some lines of simple verse.

We’re not that hard to please!

I’m yawning with boredom, Computer,

Awaiting a start to your rhyme.

This is yet another example

Of a letdown one more time.

So go and have a few bytes of your microchips!

Go and hide in your Computer tower!

I know just the thing to fix you, mate!

Right now, I’ll switch off the power!

© Vi Woodhouse First published in March 2006.

Computer

Computer

I’ve asked Computer to help write a poem today

So far he’s not complying.

I’m sitting here with fingers poised

But he’s not even trying!

Since he’s supposed to be so smart,

He should find it a breeze

To write some lines of simple verse.

We’re not that hard to please!

I’m yawning with boredom, Computer,

Awaiting a start to your rhyme.

This is yet another example

Of a letdown one more time.

So go and have a few bytes of your microchips!

Go and hide in your Computer tower!

I know just the thing to fix you, mate!

Right now, I’ll switch off the power!

© Vi Woodhouse First published in March 2006.

Listen Hard

Listen Hard

Pink and white blossom rejoices,

Air entices, warm,

Breeze tickles petals,

Teases in the rebirth,

The playground is busy now,

Children in innocent pursuits,

Delightful laughter resonates,

Listen hard, listen hard,

For the clatter goes on!

Wheels, naked on rail, distant,

Always the rude intrusion,

Harsh reminder Notting Hill

is always hungry,

Red and silver capsules snake, deep,

Gold dazzles high in blue,

London Underground is relentless,

Hot chaos at Marble Arch,

Tranquil silence at Ruislip Gardens.

© Michael Garrad February 2012

Listen Hard

Listen Hard

Pink and white blossom rejoices,

Air entices, warm,

Breeze tickles petals,

Teases in the rebirth,

The playground is busy now,

Children in innocent pursuits,

Delightful laughter resonates,

Listen hard, listen hard,

For the clatter goes on!

Wheels, naked on rail, distant,

Always the rude intrusion,

Harsh reminder Notting Hill

is always hungry,

Red and silver capsules snake, deep,

Gold dazzles high in blue,

London Underground is relentless,

Hot chaos at Marble Arch,

Tranquil silence at Ruislip Gardens.

© Michael Garrad February 2012

Listen Hard

Listen Hard

Pink and white blossom rejoices,

Air entices, warm,

Breeze tickles petals,

Teases in the rebirth,

The playground is busy now,

Children in innocent pursuits,

Delightful laughter resonates,

Listen hard, listen hard,

For the clatter goes on!

Wheels, naked on rail, distant,

Always the rude intrusion,

Harsh reminder Notting Hill

is always hungry,

Red and silver capsules snake, deep,

Gold dazzles high in blue,

London Underground is relentless,

Hot chaos at Marble Arch,

Tranquil silence at Ruislip Gardens.

© Michael Garrad February 2012

My View with Michael Garrad

Singer Whitney Houston had more money than you and I will have had hot dinners all our lives. Now she’s dead, aged 48. Gone! Just her songs remind us who she was and how good she was.

But dollars didn’t make it a good life, not in the end -the drugs, the alcohol. Perhaps money came too easily.

Thing is, we, most of us, put such great store by how much we have, the material gains. The $500,000 house with four bedrooms and not that many living at home. Perhaps just the two of us! The four-bedroom shack, the four-wheel drive, the BMW, the boat, the caravan, the campervan. Yes, you’ve heard it all before, ad nauseum, and, yes, it does give us pleasure right now and, more importantly, it enhances our social status - ”My word, they have done well!” Oh, forgot the farmlet and a few head of cattle and sheep. Will this wealth ever end?

Well, it will. When we die. And what good is it after cremation or burial? Good for those left behind depending on the debt level of the estate.

All this grandeur! All this envy from those who can only dream about such material niceties. Weep, baby, weep!

Those who survive will weep all right because it comes to...not very much at the end.

Whitney Houston was sensational, as was her bank account but she couldn't defy death, the final gasping moment, alone. Alone!

My View with Michael Garrad

Singer Whitney Houston had more money than you and I will have had hot dinners all our lives. Now she’s dead, aged 48. Gone! Just her songs remind us who she was and how good she was.

But dollars didn’t make it a good life, not in the end -the drugs, the alcohol. Perhaps money came too easily.

Thing is, we, most of us, put such great store by how much we have, the material gains. The $500,000 house with four bedrooms and not that many living at home. Perhaps just the two of us! The four-bedroom shack, the four-wheel drive, the BMW, the boat, the caravan, the campervan. Yes, you’ve heard it all before, ad nauseum, and, yes, it does give us pleasure right now and, more importantly, it enhances our social status - ”My word, they have done well!” Oh, forgot the farmlet and a few head of cattle and sheep. Will this wealth ever end?

Well, it will. When we die. And what good is it after cremation or burial? Good for those left behind depending on the debt level of the estate.

All this grandeur! All this envy from those who can only dream about such material niceties. Weep, baby, weep!

Those who survive will weep all right because it comes to...not very much at the end.

Whitney Houston was sensational, as was her bank account but she couldn't defy death, the final gasping moment, alone. Alone!

Beautiful Portland

Beautiful Portland

Sit and ponder of past years,

Town of historic charm so famous,

Glorious, beautiful, beautiful Portland - so very true,

On the ocean, the waves roll to the milky shore,

Weathered fishermen feel the sea spray on their

loved faces,

Let us walk the tranquil, bleached beaches,

The local band’s music echoed for miles,

Mechanics’ Hall, many smiles,

Men standing near the inside doors,

Shy young maidens sitting on-site,

Loudspeaker: “Ladies’ choice!”

Never-ending memories,

The last waltz and anthem,

Again let us walk the shores,

Crashing waves stampede against the rocks,

Salty breath everywhere,

Breeze kisses the faces of many,

Let us walk the tranquil beaches,

Thinking of past years.

© Yvonne Matheson

Beautiful Portland

Beautiful Portland

Sit and ponder of past years,

Town of historic charm so famous,

Glorious, beautiful, beautiful Portland - so very true,

On the ocean, the waves roll to the milky shore,

Weathered fishermen feel the sea spray on their

loved faces,

Let us walk the tranquil, bleached beaches,

The local band’s music echoed for miles,

Mechanics’ Hall, many smiles,

Men standing near the inside doors,

Shy young maidens sitting on-site,

Loudspeaker: “Ladies’ choice!”

Never-ending memories,

The last waltz and anthem,

Again let us walk the shores,

Crashing waves stampede against the rocks,

Salty breath everywhere,

Breeze kisses the faces of many,

Let us walk the tranquil beaches,

Thinking of past years.

© Yvonne Matheson