Bob's Balderdash

7/29/2019 Bob's Balderdash

1/54

Bobs Balderdash

A partial autobiography in observations,

and poems.


2/54

2

Carried along by the flow

of events

and my own uncertainties.

Unable to call a halt.

I barely manage to duck and dive

to avoid

disaster and dissolution.

A pilgrimage many are enduring:

few with reliable guides.

Currently fog-bound, still afloat

but

expecting shipwreck any second.

This voyage is unexpected:

some incomprehensible lottery win?

Not detailed in any brochure.

I hesitate to call it life.

unshine.

Shade:

Holidays.

You come into the world alone.

You leave the world alone.In between

you bump into lots of people.

Three in the morning.

Fridge busily humming.

Clock tick tock ticking.

Cat emphatically purring.Silent night.


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3

The pattern is broken,

the rainbow has gone:

the prisons still standing(the bars are too strong).

The darkness is coming

and obstacles loom:

perspective is narrowed

in the sickening gloom.

The exit is hidden,

the entrance is closed.

You trip, fall and stumble

on the problem thats posed.

Theres no hope for no-one;

no answering call;

always the question

Whats the point of it all?

A chain of new heartaches

brings a mental recall:

the nightmare conclusion

theres no point at all.

I asked for a stiff drink-

They served me ice cubes.

Fill in the _______ word.

A more frequent use of the term

NO,

will enhance everyones

lifestyle.


4/54

4

The clock behind me

ticks in the corner:

Empty room.

I switch on the coal fire:

No heat.

Comforting reminiscences:

Inner glow.

The washing machine was on.

Tray filled with soap and Comfort.

Drum filled with clothes: male and female.

Theres something soothing about the

flop and slop of washing accompanied

by the electric motors hum.

Perhaps an association withold fashioned Saturdays

and a busy Mum.

Whatever.

I feel comforted.

Haiku:Waiting to get into a cable-car?

I saw that life

was unpredictable,

verging on the chaotic.

So I closed the window.


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5

Man is born free.

But everywhere he is in comfort.

SHORT POEM

P..m

I went to the enlightened one.

He enquired if I was earnestly seeking truth and wisdom.

I agreed that I was lost

but I was looking for the nearest MacDonalds.

Completely and utterly

OTT and over the limit.

Passed caring and beyond redemption.

Stressed liver and befuddled brain.

Another sip.

Another swallow.

The teeth of pain forgotten

in a

gentle numbness.

If only

there was another way

to feel comfortable

with oneself.

If I die,

think only this of me......

Hes gone!


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6

........................and the gods are silent

Pages turn empty

in once written books.

A torn face with torn tearsnobody looks.

Still a yearning and striving

to run the good race, but

no echoed salvation

nor awareness of grace.

Just babbling thoughts;

memories melodic;

second-hand hope;

circuitous logic.

Ephemeral morsels:

nothing to sate.

The gods keep their silence

mans ubiquitous fate.

I thought she was magic

then she disappeared into

someone elses arms.

Like a fishing rod with no line:

I go through the

motions.


7/54

7

Why do fishermen make good computer programmers?

Theyre used to networking.

It was a case of the magnet calling

the kettle back.

Here I Sit

Touched by the wind

(a mere garden breeze)

they flex and bend

effortlessly.

Shivering with life as though

more than green foliage and stem.

Now immobile -

just standing as though waiting,

until

caressed to life again.

Suggesting more than

dumb vegetation.

If I didnt know any better,

Id say that I was sane.

Its just a nagging doubt remainswhen confronted by such pain.

Soul searchingwhen you cant find your shoes.

I cant act: therefore I ham.


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8

In my head

Im a gallant knight in shining armour,

an organic farmer.

In my head.

In my head

Im the star of every drama,

a bon vivant and charmer.

In my head.

In my head

Im the hero with many faces,

winner of Olympic races.

In my head.

In my head

Im a husband like no other,

a perfect son with perfect mother.

In my head.

In my head

Im a man of many talents,

whos restored the cosmic balance.

In my head.

In my headI find answers to every question

using god-like comprehension.

In my head.

In my head

I think Im out of

my mind.


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9

She was bored on Tuesday afternoons.

But she kept it a secret from her husband.

The look of the world

through the bottom of a glass

Fuzzed

and distorted.

Mind elsewhere

and preoccupied.

Clarity of perception

Is not my middle name,

Nor dreamless awarenessthe goal of the game.

What sort of state

will a mirror make

when musing

on lifes improbable and uncertainties??

Dare you venture

into realms where literature only spawns

nightmares and the living dead?

And youre left to feelyour own intransigence / will to live

as an aberration?

What if....

What if....

What if....

You hope so hard and yet know the

CONSEQUENCES.

Life with death

Rock with RollSwings with roundabouts.

Funny......

Really sort of weird.....

But life

Is JUST LIKE THAT!!

Dont let them tell you otherwise

Theyll lie...

And pretend to

Ordinariness.


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10

In the case of armed conflict:

The biggest biceps always win.

She shot herself so many times in the foot,

she no longer had a leg to stand on.

At 12.25 am on the 20thJanuary 1950, I dropped out of my mothers womb.

And its been downhill ever since.

My angel sleeps

curled in nocturnal comfort

Oblivious of tomorrows

demands and contingencies.

Sleep on, my noble

compatriot.

You deserve morenot less of my

attentions.

What do they make of us

big and loud and brash.

Creatures bound to the earth

unable to swoop and soar?


As they peer down from chimney,

tiled apex and swaying bough?


Purveyors of titbits, hauliers of

abundant harvests from land and sea?


Creatures of plenty but unwilling toShare the air with them?


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11

Graphic Poem 1

Begin...

...End


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12

Graphic Poem 2

blank page

few words:

a meeting place


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13

Midnight kitchen

Party over

Somewhere, dripping

Winter bus stopSilent queue

Haiku arriving

Rhythm of the clock

Pulsing blood

Headache

I open my eyes

First thoughtIts morning!

Early December

Broken washing machine

Why now?

Soaps on TV

Such intensity

My cats sleeping

December afternoon

Cigarette smoke

The same colour as the clouds

My cat

Eating his biscuits

Thinking of sparrows

Half-asleep

Noisy neighbour

Acrobatic gnat.


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14

Graphic Poem 3

STARTor maybe

STOPor even

continuecontinuecontinuecontinuecontinuecontinuecontinue


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15

Graphic Poem 4 : Scandinavian poem

START

FINNISH


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16

Graphic Poem 5

My life:

Strictly compartmentalised.

Who said that?


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17

Graphic Poem 6

Im a man of few words

also few letters


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18

House asleep

Stirring coffeeSo loud!

B

ack door openCats in then outHidden agendas

Warm summer rainOn the patioA bedraggled worm

Autumnal morningEverything still

Except a Magpie

Faint musicFrom another roomLanguid thoughts

Damp grey morningVisitor with flowersSomeone re-assured

Grey duskGarden growing dulled greensMid-December

Grey hair down toilet

Trimmer on chargeSpending cuts!

Seeing the words appearAs if by magicWriting!

Writing on the pageTalking to myselfNow talking to you


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19

Proud and upright and unrecognised -

our rooftop sentinels.Spaced against the sky,

Stiffly silent in their unquestionable duties.

More than brick and mortar,

more than architectural style,

more than domesticated functionaries:

unacknowledged urban guardians.


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20

Clearly not connected:

Wires broken, pipes blocked.

No battery for the radio,

the connecting door is locked.

The aerial has long been missing,the screen is white-noise blank.

The handset doesnt function,

its Snafu to be quite frank.

Time to shut the curtains.

Time to close the case.

Time to pay the ferryman

and to see the other place.

Self mutilation: A cut above the rest?

We are born

and we will die.

The question is:What happens in between?

To be human

Is to know what

you

cant have.

If we were always happy,

the drug companies wouldnt

make

a profit.


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21

Entranced by the melodies of

dishwasher and washing machine,

I sit alone.

Its easier to be

miserable

on your own.

I was under the apprehensionthat I must be somebody.

But I looked in the

mirror

and reflected......

An image. No icon.

A transparency.

A disturbance in the ether.

Here now.

And then:Gone.

Like countless others

Visitors only.

Monochromed horizon.

Agitated skeletons.

Discarded golden flakes.

Autumn.

TO HELL NOW NON-SMOKING


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22

range cat

On orange carpet.

Safe from eagles!

idnight kitchen:

The tap drips

to remind me Im alone.

wo a.m.

A coffee, a cigarette

and a purring cat

he scalpel cuts.

The flesh responds to its insistent demand.

Parting

is such sweet sorrow.

peak to me only with thine eyes

shouted the deaf teacher

to the pupil.

spy with my little eyesomething beginning with

monocle.

shop therefore I am, said the poster-

being very economical

with the truth.


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23

Snowdons summit.

Waiting for the train:

High queue.

I thought filofax was knowing about pastry,

Until I visited a stationers.

I arrivednot knowing what I was looking for.

Inevitably I never found it.

In the land of the blind, a one-eye man is king.

But not if hes deaf.

How time flies when....

Youre an astronaut.

A grain of sand on the beach of humanity.

Even with his eyes closed,

he couldnt see in the dark.


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24

Is a shop a currency converter?

Especiallyinthecaseofpoetryspacesbetweenwords

mediatedifferentnuancesandsubtletiesinmeaning

The correct English is not

who knows, but whose nose.

Roses are red,

violets blue.

For this to be haiku,

theres more work to do.

Existentialism is the pause

between choices.

Small is beautiful.

Big is large.

Truth is stranger

than friction.

Cash. Bang. Trollop.


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25

Make

the present

a present

to yourself.

Mapping the contours of heartbreak.

The circle is a curious thing.

It has no beginning

nor seems to end,

and always insists

on going round the bend.

There is a book entitled 101 things to do before you die.

Easily simplified to LIVE!

Two swallows dont make a summer

But they may cure hiccups.

That was zen this is now.


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26

Who, what, where, whytell me, tell me before I die?

Am I a husband, parent, son.Executive earning a tidy sum?

Am I a lover? Am I a friend?(A deluded fool going round the bend?)

Am I a neighbour sharing the view?(Who sometimes lends his tools to you?)

Am I a failure and a boorish fart?(Considering my life as a work of art?)

Telling jokes to earn a smile.

Happy? Well for a while.

So, on this earth will I leave my markor is this thought to counter the dark?

Do you call this confusion being alive?Tell me please, Im now fifty five.

Too much and too little to say or tell.

Memories peer round unguarded moments,thoughtful minutes, introverted hours.Regrets for actions done and missed.Questions without redemption.

The pencilled page betrays the whole:Words and sentences, all false trails.

The phone promotes the trivia ofaccidents: inoffensive veneers.

Is it possible to send ones lovesilently through the ether?To cherish without touching?


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27

Many hands make light work.

Many feet make a mile.

Haiku: the art of compression.

Nurdle: stupid person blocking your progress.

If you have your wisdom teeth extracted,

does your IQ suffer?

Roses are red,

violets blue.If youre colour blind

does it matter to you?

THOUGHT FOR TODAY:

Im awake.

Ifyou left with nothing

You came in with too much.

One ego short of a religion.


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28

Dont volunteer unless you have to.

Ice is just water thats

having a rest.

If you give things away

You make space for more.

Trousers on the washing line

awaiting my legs

to be fulfilled.

He communicates with me

purrfectly,

but he still cant go out.

I collect broken pencils

pointless really.

I only asked a farewell kiss

to take away with me

A memory of our time of bliss

and subtle ecstasy.

But as you have refused

to give just a little peck.I want to take you by the hand

and wring your faithless neck.

So, from now until eternity

to cure my aching heart.

My diet will be beans, beans, beans.

To remind me youre a fart.


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29

I cried and criedAnd the world was busy

How could they not hear me?

It seemed so OTT:

To slash my wrists

Stub out cigarettes on my hand

Smash my head against a wall.

They must think I can cope

But

They cant know how hard it is:

To see ones failures

Mistakes

Embarrassments

Rejections

Defeats

Paraded before ones minds eye

Over and over again.

I . . . . . . . . . .

ignored .

my .

intuition .

and .

fell .

off .

the .

cliff . . . . . .


30/54

30

Heart to Heart

I asked my heart, Please stop beating.

(I was in despair).

It listened, considered my request

but regretted it couldnt comply:It had agreed to a fixed

term contract

and was unable to make unilateral changes.

I meandered

and reflected - wed been together now

for over sixty years.

I felt guilty and apologised for not

paying due care and attention,

even,

being rather careless with my health.

My heart smiled and said

he bore no grudge.

It was the way things were

in the modern world.

He would keep working

until his contract ended.

No more, no less.

I dared not broach the question

of how much longer,but commented

that when he retired,

so would I.

I said I hoped had enjoyed his

work, although I doubted it.

He simply smiled and replied

that he did his job,

sometimes under arduous circumstances.

Nevertheless, he wouldnt change it for the world.

He didnt look forward to retiringnor to our

parting.


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31

ENCRYPTIC

No-one

Nobody

No

Know

The smooth lines of your contours

Hold me in their spell.

Without that touch and soft caress

Life seems an endless hell.

The warmth, the scent, the hormonesExcite my timid heart,

And cause a sense of longing

Which words can ner impart.

I always want to whisper words

Of loving and of care.

Of holding hands and kisses,

Exchanged in summer air.

But now the time is over

To show you what Id like.Your final words were clear enough

Get on your bleeding bike!

I imagine

Im an undiscovered philosopher.

But then

who isnt?

The Virginia Creeper is avaricious:

Half the garage

has gone already.


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32

WHERE ITS AT:

I know no rhyme nor reason

to assign any

particular importance

to any

particular event or experience.

In life

all is, as it is:

No more, not less.

Assuredly transient,

unfathomable in part.

To expect more

methinksbetokens hubris.


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33

Flamboyant dancer:

Candle in the wind.

He watched TV.

She looked at the clouds.

Seeing is believing

Consequences

The fruit oflife

Upstairs tap dripping.

Downstairs clock ticking:

Resonance.

Thoughts on pieces of paper.

Did the trees foresee their destiny

in my literary explorations?

He leapt

from one perplexing failure to the next.

His articulated intensions were admirable,

but his grasp of brute facts,

embryonic.

Frustration and dissatisfactions

were

inevitable.

Fate had already set the parameters

and his life

unfolded.


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34

Here today. Gone tomorrow.

A life of joy with pain and sorrow.

A mixture

not in equal parts.

The heart is pierced with different darts.For Cupids not the only bow

in use, as many know.

Arrows of doubt, despair and fear

are oftimes more than one can bear.

No poultice can prevent the pain

when poison reaches heart, mind, brain.

These archers unknown, with reasons unclear,

persist in exacting a price so dear.

For eons they have waged their art,aiming to break the human heart.

For those who are wounded

(but not with loves dart),

who look for an answer, complete

or in part.

Ill be quite honest and open with you:

for myself, I search for one too.


35/54

35

What am I doing

burying a bee in a matchbox?

Carefully wrapped in a bed of rose petals.

Wondering if it is good enoughor should I have done more?

Dead in my garden, far from his hive.

No longer surrounded by his fellows.

A focussed life:

Buzzingly busy for the common good.

No complaints.

No slacking,

just up and at it from dawn til dusk.

I cannot fathom his dedication.

Im sorry to see him dead,

no longer scooting across the lawn

from one flower to the next,

day after day.

The sunlight seems lessened

without him.

I guess I simply fail to comprehend

the facts of life

and death.

Soothing dusk.

Falling asleep on the sofa.

Wary of the cuckoo clock.

I was tired

and wanted to sleep

but stayed awake

to write this ?


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36

Does the ant

make a mountain

out of a molehill?

Chatting together-

a face-to-dial

relationship.

She filled

her glasses

with tears.

Overhead

the floor boards creakRestless children.

Autumn in the park

I came

I saw

I conkered.

Crystal clear December morning.

Dusted with snow.

Hot water bottle night.


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37

As the noise recedes

the night

becomes spacious.

Quivering leaves.

What are the plants frightened of?

The wind.

Once upon a time.

Alas

not now.

What a horrible day!

she saidas the rain watered the garden.

Hot June,

cool inside:

beached on the sofa.

Laugh and the world laughs with you.

Sleep

and youre on your own.


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38

NOISY POEM

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

Hello

*


39/54

39

I thought I was apathetic

but then I made a decision:

I was going back to bed.

You are seduced by the latest gizmo.

Purchased

you take it home

filled to over-bursting with

advertorial promises.

But

it

doesnt work!

Talk about deflated

You.

Are.

DEVASTATED

once again.

Life has let you down:

a Walkman and no batteries.

You cant hear a fart

in a hurricane.

Is camping

an intense experience?

The window of opportunity is often obscured

by the curtain of confusion.


40/54

40

Creativity Imagination in overdrive.

The greatest test in anyones life

is whether they can die with dignity.

For this, there are no statistics.

I have a business card

Therefore I am.

One blade of grass

missed by the mower.

So proud and defiant.

Summer invasion:

aliens landing on the grass.

Damn Dandelions.

The brain whirrs,

the ink flows:words fail.

She left the training course early -

her father had died.

She had learnt enough.


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41

Handwriting

is individual:

Mark my word.

Machines do speak

Soliloquies

in some unknown tongue.

An August morningin more ways than one.

The Camellia

ripples its leaves,

unencumbered by the life of commerce.

Summer evening -

recumbent on the patio.

Watching two mobiles.

One immobile.

Restless clouds

unnoticed.

Always moving


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42

Cleanliness is next to godliness:

my dishwasher

is a saint!

Between the Buddleias

a host of cabbage whites:

Butterfly ballet.

Putting pen to papera sensuous act.

Awaiting a genesis.

I notice changes in my body.

Old age

is not a concept.

I always thought

there was an answer to

every question.............

My ginger cat

is called Dennis.

He doesnt seem to mind.

Thoughts hit the brain.

Words hit the page.

Mysterious.


43/54

43

Scissors rock on their hook.

I used them to cut Sellotape

hours ago.

The dictionary has all the ingredients-

you write the

poem.

What do you call a TV with a broken screen?A radio.

Life is full

of rude awakenings.

I once used a thesaurus

to write a poem,

( demonstrated ( complicated

( substantiated ( involved

( proved ( tangled

but it ( ratified that it was too ( tricky

( bore out ( labyrinthine

( confirmed ( tortuous( turned out ( convoluted

( affirmed ( perplexing.


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44

A Victorian Tragedy in Five Acts.

Act 1

Bubble : It was cold in the fridge.

Squeak : Sure was.

Act 2

Bubble : This frying pan is greasy.

Squeak : Hot too!

Act 3

Bubble : That fork was sharp!

Squeak : And the knife!

Act 4

Bubble : I think were going to be eaten!

Squeak : Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhh!

Act 5

Bubble : Its dark in here.

Squeak : Sure is.

A rag man is an

anagram of

anagram.

I wuZ noRTy in mI yuth

teLin lys anD nOt thee trooTH

sKived of sKooL thoRT it ELL

Whitch is y I kANt spel.


45/54

45

Dog falling asleep

on my chest:

a semblance

of

purpose.

You can take a horse

to water

but you cant make it think.

Its simple:

I breathe -therefore

I am.

Experience theallure of

alliteration.

Dog

curled on my lap.

Moon-shaped,

moon-coloured.Hes also a

lunatic.

Kitchen confrontation:

Chairs taking sides and

facing each other

across the table.


46/54

46

Now is the winter of our discothque.

I swapped lettuce seedlings for

a fishing lesson.

Bargain!

My dogs incessantly lick my head,

hands and ankles.

Perhaps theyre washing away mysins?

Its coming-

not much

lllllloooooonnnnnnggggggeeeeeerrrrrr

now.

It was a storm in a teacup

the lightening hurt my

teeth.

Autobiography:

the history of the

motorcar.


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47

The truth:

A watched kettle never

procrastinates.

Life is like a jigsaw puzzle:

I saw the whole picture once

but now I cant remember

where bits go.

the

Cocaine

Money does grow on trees.

Spontaneity:

Being free of the past.


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48

Why are skunks

likened to drunks?

They dont drink more

until they hit the floor.

They wont pinch the bum

of their flatmates mum.

They dont spill Chinese

down their lap and knees.

They never ever puke

over Nancy, Paul and Luke.

They wouldnt think

to piss in the sink.

They dont sleep and snore

on the bathroom floor.

They dont watch telly

but they can be smelly.

So why are skunks

compared to drunks?

Do budding authors

only write gardening books?

The lilac Buddleia and

the lilac mobile

pose an inarticulate question.

Fish are constrained by their environment.

Tadpoles will dramatically move

to a new life.Am I a fish or a frog?


49/54

49

My two dogs barkat different things.

Why separate agendas?

Aphorisms and clichs.

A cut finger.

Wisdom in small doses.

A cool August night.

Expectation of rain.

Ephemeral desires.

Restless clouds,

Always moving.

Unnoticed.

The book

A lattice of meanings.Most escape me.

In the present moment - the past is

remembered

and the future

fashioned.


50/54

50

Red,

red and amber,

green.A symbolic life.

Words are doors

to the soul.

Be watchful.

To read I need my glasses.

The world is encumbered with

small print.

Why the debate about poetry?Words just..........

come alive..

June afternoon.

Flies massed over the lawn:

Air traffic control?

Fanciful ideas,

toyed with

then forgotten.


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51

New Years day.

Fireworks go whizz, bang, bang.

I feel the same.

Numeracy:

What comes after eight?

Mints.

Vanity, vanity.All is vanity.

I rest my case.

Is it possible to hum

out of tune?

After the kettles orgasm,

I make a cup of tea.

The Sound of Silence -

mobile with flat battery.

Whats the real

virtue

of virtual reality?


52/54

52

When I stroke my cat

he purrs insanely.

Wheres the volume control?

Bike riding

my mouth a yawning chasm

for the fly.

Reading old diaries

my formative youth.

Where is he now?

June 21st,

the longest day.

My life grows

shorter.

Morning has broken

Must be a design fault.

She was simply divine:

Grapes would grow on her.


53/54

53

If you write down all your thoughts

does that leave your brain

empty?

Round and round the garden

like a teddy bear,

one step, two step

dog poo is everywhere.

I was offered fresh marshmallow.

Yet we were miles from water.

Drip, drip, drip.

Tock, tick, tock:

Life has its own intrinsic rhythms.

Splish, splosh, splash.

Crash, bang, wallop.

And I have mine.


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Bob's Balderdash