Result

Politics, Random poetry No Comments »

Hello!

I wanted to write a poem about the UK’s snap election, and also allude to the revelations that are coming out of America. 

I was gifted with appropriate generated words, so here goes:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tool  Drain  Virgin  Disappointment  Slant  Fist  Result  Presidency  Customer

 

Our worries: used as a tool

To drain the colour from an opponent’s face.

Who shouts loudest –

Has the best lines –

Will win the play (and day).

 

Nervous teens, poised for their virgin vote,

Already steeped in disappointment:

That adulthood

Did not mean freedom –

No matter which slant one adds.

 

Experienced casters, shake their fist

At the establishment;

Heckle the upstarts

(Are none too happy with any result

Others have come up with)

 

And, as the world cringes

At what the ‘Free World’

Hails a presidency;

It would appear that not many on Thursday night

Will be a happy customer of democracy…

 

It has been a crazy few months on the political front! I know which way I’m voting, but I am apprehensive about how it’ll all turn out for the country…when did I start caring so much, anyway?!

I think I’ll be watching the BBC News Channel a lot again over the next 36 hours or so 😉 good luck, Britain!

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Veil

Politics, Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hello.

Hubby had mentioned that there seemed to be some incident unfolding in Manchester last night as I was doing bloggy stuff on the PC, and he’d put the news on downstairs for a few minutes.  I grimaced and said that I hoped it was not too serious, but I did not look anything up at that point.

Hubby was working from home today, as he often does on a Tuesday, and we went about our usual school morning business: hugged and cajoled the kids as we always do, made sure that they got into the nursery and classroom on time. 

We didn’t really talk to anybody, as hubby had a 9.30am audio meeting he had to get back for.  I did send a few private messages to some mums on Facebook, but were just talking about what we were up to this morning, and I didn’t really look at my feed.

I turned on my laptop, to start work on some of the post about Rab, and that is when I realised that Hubby had seen the first reports of the terror attack at the Manchester Arena.  It was all over MSN.

I tried to avoid reading into anything too deeply at that time, but the changing headlines were updating me as I worked. 

I walked down to get Youngest (one of my lovely mum friends picking me up on the way) and watched him frolicking about with a nursery pal, and I chatted to the boy’s father.  Hubby came to get us and ran around with the kids a little more, before we went back home for lunch.

Only then did I watch the news properly.  My heart just breaks for the loved ones left behind! It was, and is, just too horrific to fully take in.  What hit me the hardest was the fact that so many families are still searching for their loved ones after the attack, and that young people were targeted so ruthlessly.  I would never wish that on anyone, no matter how angry I was at the world, or how suicidal.

It was achingly bittersweet to hear of all the help that was offered in the aftermath, however.  It is always important to focus on how good people are at rising to challenges – how no matter what the community can be useful and comforting in little ways.  It always makes me realise that everything is not lost, and that I could and would act the same in dire circumstances.  The majority of humans, thankfully,  have a capacity for good that far outweighs their darker elements.

I had a nice snuggly nap with Youngest on the couch, and hugged Eldest extra tight when he came home with Hubby.  I wish I could let them all know unequivocally the depth of my love for them, to safeguard against that day when I may not be able to tell them again, that day that we all dread when we love people that much…

When I saw ‘shame’ and ‘secret’ come up, it sparked a poem about last night.  I always wonder about people who commit such carnage, about how they justify it to themselves and keep going with their plan. There is lots in the media about not being angry, or letting it stop us doing things we love.  I’d want answers if I was a bereft parent, and yet never be able to question the killer.  I would find that part the hardest to get past.

 

Screw  Relieved  Veil  Afternoon  Shame  Feigned  Secret  Nest  Intend

 

It takes more than just a loose screw

To pack a bag full of destruction,

And walk among them there.

 

To feel relieved that no one guessed,

That your veil of deceit

Lay undetected.

 

To not have second thoughts

Weeks before.  Or ‘chicken out’

That afternoon.

 

To not be plagued by shame

That such thoughts even

Entered your head.

 

What hatred of humanity

To have feigned decency…

Lived shoulder to shoulder…

 

While, in a secret nest somewhere,

All was black and wicked.

 

You: smiling upon your work,

As their fate you fashioned?

 

No mercy did you ever intend.

 

Youngest went in the bath first, and came through all soggy-haired and pink to tell me about the many new toys in the nursery that he’d suddenly remembered about.  They’ve been raising funds recently.

“Dere a new goo-illa (gorilla) game…da old one needed sellotape cos it was bwoken…if not healfy, or dust a tweat, goes to gweedy goo-illa, if is healfy it goes on your bo-waard.”  Apparently, Youngest and his pal were having great fun feeding the gorilla things they wouldn’t like: “we sayin’ ‘I don’t want dis, I don’t want dat!!’” The memory of it, and accompanying gestures, made him chuckle, which set me off!

There was also a ‘Ma-bul Wun’ (Marble Run) where one “put da ma-bul at da top and it slides down and it twists because dere’s a spinny fing at da bottom”; and ‘Noo Wooden Twain Twacks’ – “oo know what twain twacks do!”

New “taw-a-ches” (torches) for the woodwalk also featured; “but I don’t fink day will open dem tomorrow” (he is going on the woodwalk with hubby tomorrow).

I read the boys another chapter of the 10th Famous Five book, and cuddled them both until they were nearly asleep, trying not to cry all over them. They are so beautiful, and I really hope they get to have the long and happy lives all parents wish for their children.

I am just so sorry we live in a world where a minority feel they have the right to take, in the most vile ways possible, a family’s right to grow and love and be together.  Manchester, I stand and cry with you.

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Settle?

Politics, Random poetry No Comments »

Hello 🙂

From Randomlists

There was only one topic that popped into my mind when I read ‘oval’ and ‘press’ in the generated words tonight.  As I watch rolling news reports on the BBC News 24 channel, I come back to these ponderings quite a bit.  Who knew I’d be caring about politics so much in my late thirties?!  There does seem to be a lot of it about these days…

 

 

Heal  Public  Settle  Oval  Abrasive  Base  Chop  Talented  Press

 

It must be hard to heal

From such a public loss,

And settle back into life

As if nothing had happened.

 

Watch some crass buffoon

Squat in the Oval Office;

(Being deliberately abrasive,

But getting away with it)

 

Some days, you must get up

And wonder if it was all

Some figment.  If it mattered.

Whether being that base would have been easier!

 

Do you feel like a limb

Was left behind,

And that you know exactly

Who made the chop?

 

You were always so talented

At coming across as decent and measured.

You genuinely cared.

Never picked fights with the press.

 

Is God still blessing you guys?

Has your head been out of your hands, lately?

 

Notebook scribbles, in a fetching shade of blue.

Incredibly, I read this to hubby and typed it out, then hopped on to Google to see what Obama has been up to, and realised that today he has given his first public appearance since Trump took over!  How weird is that?! (I had not seen that on the news today)

Remember, the generators are random, I ask for nine words and alternate between four generators throughout the week…what are the odds that ‘oval’, ‘abrasive’ and ‘press’ would pop up on this generator today?  Are the algorithms rigged? Hmmmm…

The article suggests that Obama will not be answering my queries anytime soon, but it says a memoir has been started 😉 should be interesting…

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

 

Normal?

Politics, Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hi again 🙂

It is waaaay past my bedtime, so I will post up the poem I wrote and run.  I am posting on the 21st, but will make WordPress backdate it as I did write it yesterday, honest! 

I have just finished tinkering with my chocolate cake post, as the editor pretended that it had cropped out Eldest’s face, but hadn’t when I enlarged the thumbnail! EEEEK! I do not like having my kids’ faces on here because I just don’t feel it is safe!  Not being techy minded (and having purged the cache…) I am not sure why it didn’t crop properly, but the pic is down now.  Sigh.  It was a nice birthday candle pic, too.

When I saw that there was a phrase in the generated words, and therefore technically ten words instead of my usual nine; I decided to pair up the other words, too.  So what follows is a bit of a nonsense poem.  But I hope you like it anyway:

 

 

 

 

 

Normal  Button  Crossing  Similar  Disaster  Pyramid  Mail Carrier  Tile  Survey

 

Oh, to have a worldwide

‘Normal Button’.

It would be housed at Westminster

And seen to be as bad

As nuclear:

Crossing similar (levelling) lines.

 

I wonder if there would have to be

A disaster pyramid drawn up?

At the pinnacle: what would occur

If we didn’t revert back

(Yeah, it would have to be reversible,

Because we all know we’d get bored)

 

Eventually, there would be a clamouring

To get back to diversity.

We’d understand our differences more.

Harry Potter would still be allowed an owl

As his mail carrier;

I would have my ‘tile survey’

Granted when I felt shy…

 

Scribbles

The line at the end may be a bit obscure, but what I meant was when one studies any pattern in the floor tiles instead of looking up, because of feeling acutely self-conscious 😉

Would you like a ‘normal button’?  How would it work?  Would it emit a gas, do you think?  Or a sound that was on some frequency that everyone’s brain reacted to?

Would mental disorders stop certain brains from responding?  Or above average intelligence?  (Would animals be affected?)

What actually constitutes normal behaviour?!  (If I have to ask that question, am I beyond the experiment?  Would I have to be locked up when the sound/gas was let loose?)

Would the resistance use my brain chemistry for their counter culture…?!

I need to go to bed 😉 na night, all.

X

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

 

 

You Could

Parenting, Politics, Relationships No Comments »

Hello out there…!

From randomlists

This was one of my fast-forming poems,  as I didn’t have to look any of the words up, and didn’t have any of the frantic moments from yesterday.  Indeed, I managed to still have 8 minutes and 16 seconds left on the timer after I had written it, checked it and counted up syllables! 

The boys were again on a break from school/nursery today, and they started to squabble over toys just as I wrote the last generated word at the top of my page.  That might have been a contributing factor in the following…

 

 

Destroy  Brother  Guarded  Price  Violent  Dapper   Complete   Expert  Instinctive

You could destroy your brother

And remain guarded.

But at what price?

 

You could engage

In some violent exchange;

And still remain dapper.

 

For their complete annihilation,

At your expert hand,

Is just you being instinctive.

 

It was their fault for thinking

They had the firepower!

To apportion blame is fake news.

 

Scribbles

If we look at it from the child perspective, there is the idea that our 6 year old will always…um…trump his 3 year old sibling in both physical strength and hurtful words.  Then, when mum intervenes and tries to get to the bottom of the situation, he has been known to tell half-truths and/or accuse mum of lying.

From another perspective, there is this. 😛

What poem would you have written with these words? 

 

 

Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Glitch?

Politics, Random poetry, Relationships 1 Comment »

Hi! How’s it going?

Not quite looking at the camera…but smiling!

Today I got to relax in a busy restaurant at lunchtime, across from the man I have chosen to spend my life with, and engage in some scribbly mutual ignoring 😉

I know it wasn’t long ago that we did the same thing in a café at breakfast time, but there is something even better about a weekend date: knowing that our kids are having a really fab time without us, instead of ‘just’ being in their weekday education and us having to clock-watch! 

(They really did have fun, lots of models and artwork to show for it! You rock, Mother dear! *Waves*)

I gave myself a challenge, nonetheless, and saved a Jimpix screenshot for my 15 minute session. Dun, dun duuuunnnn…

I didn’t look at the words, just copied it to my Facebook and retrieved it while waiting for dessert to be served.  The generator was a bit mean to me! I wrote all the words at the top of my notebook page, feeling sure today would be the day I would fail to get anything near a sequential poem out of the randomness!

From Jimpix

I smiled when I saw yawl had come up again!  At least I knew it was a type of sailing boat this time around…

I started by looking up ‘JSON’ because I was totally stumped, thinking it was maybe a company I’d never heard of?  Turns out it is:

“short for JavaScript Object Notation, and is a way to store information in an organized, easy-to-access manner.”  [emphasis is from the link]

I groaned

Next to be Googled was ‘whoreson’,  and  it did, indeed, mean what it sounded like.  I groaned again, scanned Wikipedia for Chichester facts, and set the timer.

I managed to write the below, check all the words had been included, and get hubby to read it; all in under 9 minutes! Yay, that means even the initial searching bit came within my 15 minute window, and I thought I was letting myself off with that part today!

 

Chichester   Adept   Flag   Bounds   England   Yawl   British   Whoreson   JSON

As he sat, for the last time,

Outside Chichester Cathedral;

He reflected how adept he’d been

At fitting in here –

Flying the flag for justice.

 

But now he could escape them –

The bounds of England – in his yawl.

No longer, perhaps, looked upon

By the British as some Whoreson.

(As if, somewhere in their JSON, they

Had gained a fatal glitch)

 

After I was home, I decided to do a wee search and see if Chichester had any migrant dealings, and found this article about the government outlining plans to lodge 200 displaced males at a time in Earnley, which is just up the road.  With all the daily ongoing news reports, I had a migrant in mind when writing the poem, but had not been aware of this specific proposal from just over a year ago.

I had also read a bit more around JSON (while hubby was placing our drink orders in a café we moved onto)  and the link says of using the programme:

“By enclosing the variable’s value in curly braces, we’re indicating that the value is an object. Inside the object, we can declare any number of properties using a “name”: “value” pairing, separated by commas.” 

I try to use JSON in the poem as a metaphor for the way we are all programmed, and when looking at it this way, it seemed fitting that the very code is segregated  – and immediately talks about enclosing, variables, objects, names, and value!

As you will be well aware by now, if you’ve read a few of my posts, my subconscious writes my poems; so I am intrigued by how the yawl is referred to by the speaker  as ‘his’.  Going back to the JSON link above, it goes on to point out: 

“A slightly more complicated example involves storing two people in one variable. To do this, we enclose multiple objects in square brackets, which signifies an array. For instance, if I needed to include information about myself and my brother in one variable…” [emphasis is from the link]

I wondered if the boat was a signifier of wealth that the speaker in the poem had accrued since moving to England, and

Baby travelling notebook page

whether that now contributed to him thinking he had been freed from people’s narrow view of him – broken the code they use when referring to migrants, if you will. 

What story did you hear coming through the poem? Did you think of migrants when reading the generator’s words at first?

Let me know in the comments 😉

Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Uninterested

Mental Health, Politics, Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

From randomlists

Hey there!

February already. I still have a few Christmas deccies kicking about.  How organised am I this year?! Only just under 11 months to go, after all…

The really scary thing is that I am still putting off thinking about the boys’ birthday parties (see here).  If I ignore the issue it’ll go away, right…? I have 8 weeks til youngest’s and 9 weeks til eldest’s.  Someone pass me a paper bag to breathe into, please…

[Ok, think about the random word poetry, woman]

I looked at the cheery set of words that came up today, and yet another news headline popped into my brain.

 

Poke   Attack   Curve   Uninterested   Pale   Depressed   Abrupt   Tent   Examine  

The chips sat, going cold in their poke,

Looking sadder than she felt,

In their vinegar pools.

Her eyes added salt, nonetheless.

 

It had been a cruel attack. No shame in it

To mourn the curve of that chair

Slamming into her eye;

In his uninterested glare.

 

Of course, against her pale skin, it bloomed large;

And he’d said he was sorry –

When he saw the purple –

But she wasn’t convinced, of course.

 

So here she was: ‘depressed’, alone, and abrupt

Daring anyone to walk

Up to her and comment;

Enter her tent of misery.

 

Under scrutiny, she might just let it slip:

How this was no ‘one off’ thing

No door whacking her head…

Leave now, do not examine it.

 

Purple prose

I use the Scottish meaning of ‘poke in the first line.  

I at first thought ‘uninterested’ was bad grammar, but it appears not, and is suitably chilling in the context of the poem. 

I have been reading a lot of posts recently, in a closed group on Facebook, about mothers being belittled and shamed for their bodies since bearing children; or of men wanting their marital bed to be as it was pre-kids, and using emotional blackmail/badgering to get what they want.  I always wonder, when I read such things, what the women are not saying when they post a phrase like “and other such bullying behaviour…”. 

Men are, in the main, physically stronger than women.  Women who have children are, in the main, easier to subdue  because they worry about the effect their not being compliant will have on the rest of the family.  This is not a good mix, and relaxing laws to provide more grey areas around where legal (or social) boundaries lie seems to me to be at best foolhardy.

Any thoughts you’d like to share on this in the comments?

 

*With this being an especially emotive issue, please make sure you check out the site etiquette, thank you*

 

Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

On A Scenic Bench

Politics, Random poetry No Comments »

This is from randomwordgenerator.com again.

Hi there!

Another (mostly) cheerful poem came together for this lovely Christmas Eve.  ‘Park’ and ‘hobby’ were a nice combination!

How are you all feeling now that Santa’s about to make his appearance? There was a flurry of excitement in our house this morning, as we had the maiden outing of the Christmas Eve Box.  It went down very well with our boys, and we all participated in a nice cuddly heap on the couch, watching ‘Inside Out’ on DVD (I was sobbing, I didn’t expect to be affected so much by all the emotions, believe it or not!) followed by ‘The Angry Birds Movie’ (!).  Our three year old has the dreaded Pox, so he dozed off before the first film started, but our six year old loved all that viewing time with his family.  It is something we rarely do in the hubbub of work and attention spans, it is usually one or two episodes of a tried and tested programme, then a request for a game of something completely different from someone or other!  Our kids are growing up so fast…

Scribbledyness from my notebook.

 

This poem is not entirely based on real events, but is something I dream about doing on sunny days!  I could not resist bringing a bit of politics into the mix after seeing ‘camp’ followed by ‘tycoon’, either.  I shall refrain from expanding that argument…though you are welcome to explore it in a poem in the comments!  (Just please be respectful of others’ views as I know it can be an emotive topic)

 

Park    Money    Fold    Peasant    Hobby    Camp    Tycoon    Slide    Spend

In a quiet park

I paid my money;

Only a fiver leaving the fold.

I fed the birds the last of my chips

And, like a peasant artist,

I flaunted my hobby

On a scenic bench.

 

Later, I put the pen away,

Took out a newspaper,

(Still enjoying the air)

And read of a squalid refugee camp

Juxtaposed with the ramblings

Of a sandy-haired tycoon.

 

Lots of the children used the slide.

 

It was an easy way

To spend my sunny afternoon.

 

Not having tweaked the above past the creation time allotted, I realise now that I set the poem in a ‘quiet park’ but then remark that ‘lots of children used the slide’.  I suppose that it was quiet to start off with, then ‘later’ (first line of second verse) the park filled up?  Maybe it was a school day and the kids all piled in after 3pm, as I assert it was a ‘sunny afternoon’?  Not sure, but I quite like this poem and it sort of works.

Come, tell me what you think 😉

 

Copyright 2016 Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!