Leisurely Scribbles (part 5) (Part 1)

I had an idea last night for something new that might feed the fertile imaginations of my fellow scribblers, it might just suit this thread as you have imagination coming out your ears here, just look at the flurry of recent poems. I have not seen this done anywhere before, maybe we could give it a try, if it doesn’t work who cares.
Here’s the deal. There are thousands of old songs out there and we all know plenty of them, pick a few lines of a song and associate it with yourself in a short tale, the bigger the porkies the better, and maybe a moral at the end. Post the utube video too if you like, actually the fact that I can’t do that gave me the idea. There is a wealth of songs out there to choose from, say if you were a country and western fan you could spin a good yarn about you and “The Hanging Tree” (I’d recommend that one for gummy):-):wink:
No rules just observe the general forum rules as usual. Here’s an example of what I’m on about.

Rubber ball, I come bouncin’ back to you
Rubber ball, I come bouncin’ back to you
I’m like a rubber ball
Baby that’s all that I am to you (bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)

Yes I remember that girl well, she bounced my poor young innocent heart from wall to wall just like that rubber ball, she was no good, a heartless ice cold selfish individual, all the lads used to call me Hoppy because I bounced so much. It’s no lie that Hoppy was not a hoppy bunny (sorry, I have a bit of a code on me)
Then as I grew older I began to bounce higher and higher and just when she thought she’d caught me, I bounced over the wall and out of her life for good.
So you see lads, the moral here is a man can only take so much bouncing around and if he doesn’t bounce away one day he will eventually burst and be no good to himself or anyone else, I know, I was that ball.

I also was that soldier who got chucked out of church for reading a deck of cards instead of a prayer book, I tried to explain to the officer, “You see Sir, when I look at the ace it reminds me that there is only one God…” and so on, but he wouldn’t hear tell of it, I got one years hard for that.
Yes folks the world can be very cruel to a caring young man, the tough guys get all the breaks, and all the glamorous birds too, by the looks of it anyway. (Heavy sigh)

Chew it over and see what you come up with, meanwhile the wife and me are off for the day, that’s why I’m up so early, see you all later tonight.:slight_smile:

I totally agree with you old boy. The world is a wonderful place, someday I’d like to see it, but here in bed with my duvet formed like a tent I have limited vista.

BtW for nurse Phyllis read nurse Gillian

Ok OK - let’s humor him for a while - and keep throwin ya poems in if ya want RJ

here’s mine:

it’s been a hard day’s night
And I’ve been working like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night
I should be sleeping like a log

some people will know that I have always been a pretty [ yes well good looking] worker and recently have labelled myself a 24 hr man - cos I just sleep wake; eat ; drink and fart just when I feel like - I can be awake at midnight drop off for a few hr and back again at 4am - why only the other day I awoke at 4am sitting in my pc chair with a glass of beer still in my hand watching or shall I say dozing one of my favorite sitcoms “sitcom on elm drive” I think it was called.

so these lines and song epitomise - yes you’ve got epitom eyes too pugsie ; who I am - a man of the universe just floating about 24 hrs a 24 hr day and it’s a bloody hard days night!

the morale of this tale is when sitting on ya pc chair at night make sure it’s the one with arms surrounding it - mine wasn’t the other night and my hard days night finished up on the bedroom floor!!

Blimey!!!

What Do You Want???

What do you want if you don’t want poetry
What do you want if you don’t want prose
Say what you want and I’ll give it to you scribblers
Wish you wanted my sweets, maybe
What do you want if you don’t want stories
What do you want if you don’t want Gifs
Say what you want and I’ll give it to you scribblers
Wish you wanted my sweets, maybe
Well I’m offering you this heart of mine
But all you do is play the fool
What do you want
Oh my you’re making a boy outta me
One of these days when you need my sweeties
One of these days when you want my help
Just call my name, and I’ll be happy
Then I’ll run to your thread, maybe
Well I’m trying to do the best I can
But all you do is confuse me now
What do you want
Oh boy you’re goin’ to keep me all day
One of these days when we are all happy
One of these days when you want me here
Don’t turn around coz I’ll be naughty
Then you’ll want my sweets, maybe
Oh well, then you’ll wanta my sweets maybe

Ok,Jem-let’s give this’un a bash:-
“Remember when you ran away
and I got on my knees and begged you
not to go or else I’d go berserk?!?”

Weeeeell…she went anyway.
Took all my crayons AND my best teddy [the one with one ear].
No way I could cope with the anger, the pain,the suppressed rage.
So-I became a custard juggler in a travelling circus.
Now-this may seem unlikely to you,
it may even read as if I was making it up…

…but what the HELL d’you think I’m doing standing here wearing clowns feet, a big red nose, with two pints of cold custard in my hair? EH?!?

Where is Gummy?
Oh where can he be
Lost in a bottle, or watching TV

Or sat in the dunny surrounded by flies.
[His dunny stinks, but that’s not a surprise.]

aa

ooAAARH
IT TAKES YOU BACK ENNIT

And they’re coming to take me away ha-haaa
They’re coming to take me away ho-ho hee-hee ha-haaa
To the funny farm
Where life is beautiful all the time
And I’ll be happy to see those nice young men
In their clean white coats
And they’re coming to take me away ha-haa

THIS WAS OK IN 1966…

SEE?

That’s the continuation of my “Remember when you ran way” post!

I genuinely did wonder if anyone would recognise it.
Well done,RJ.
You just won a night out at gumbo’s favourite gay bar,you LUCKY man!

[I]"So-I became a custard juggler in a travelling circus.
Now-this may seem unlikely to you,
it may even read as if I was making it up…

…but what the HELL d’you think I’m doing standing here wearing clowns feet, a big red nose, with two pints of cold custard in my hair? EH?!?"[/I]

so-suddenly it doesn’t seem so implausible…DUZZIT!!!

Don’t sit under the Gumbud tree with anyone else but me
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me
No! No! No!
Just remember that I’ve been true to nobody else but you
So just be true to me
Don’t go walking down lovers’ lane with anyone else but me
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me
No! No! No!
Don’t start showing off all your charms in somebody else’s arms
You must be true to me
I’m so afraid that the plans we made underneath those moonlit skies
Will fade away and you’re bound to stray if the stars get in your eyes
So, don’t sit under the Gumbud tree with anyone else but me

“Showing off all my charms”???

Milady-in reality,I’m approximately 22 times less charming than a dung beetle fresh from gummy’s dunny! [ask any woman who’s ever run away screaming] {ie-all of 'em}:blush:

The Pied Piper of Hamelin
Robert Browning, 1812 - 1889

I

Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick,
By famous Hanover city;
The river Weser, deep and wide,
Washes its wall on the southern side;
A pleasanter spot you never spied;
But, when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago,
To see the townsfolk suffer so
From vermin, was a pity.

II

Rats!
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cooks’ own ladle’s,
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men’s Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women’s chats
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats.

III

At last the people in a body
To the town hall came flocking:
“‘Tis clear,” cried they, ‘our Mayor’s a noddy;
And as for our Corporation–shocking
To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
For dolts that can’t or won’t determine
What’s best to rid us of our vermin!
You hope, because you’re old and obese,
To find in the furry civic robe ease?
Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking
To find the remedy we’re lacking,
Or, sure as fate, we’ll send you packing!”
At this the Mayor and Corporation
Quaked with a mighty consternation.

IV

An hour they sat in council,
At length the Mayor broke silence:
“For a guilder I’d my ermine gown sell,
I wish I were a mile hence!
It’s easy to bid one rack one’s brain–
I’m sure my poor head aches again,
I’ve scratched it so, and all in vain
Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!”
Just as he said this, what should hap
At the chamber door but a gentle tap?
“Bless us,’ cried the Mayor, “what’s that?”
(With the Corporation as he sat,
Looking little though wondrous fat;
Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister
Than a too-long-opened oyster,
Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous
For a plate of turtle, green and glutinous)
“Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?
Anything like the sound of a rat
Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!”

V

“Come in!”–the Mayor cried, looking bigger:
And in did come the strangest figure!
His queer long coat from heel to head
Was half of yellow and half of red
And he himself was tall and thin,
With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,
And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,
No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin,
But lips where smiles went out and in–
There was no guessing his kith and kin!
And nobody could enough admire
The tall man and his quaint attire.
Quoth one: “It’s as if my great-grandsire,
Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone,
Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!”

VI

He advanced to the council-table:
And, “Please your honors," said he, “I’m able,
By means of a secret charm, to draw
All creatures living beneath the sun,
That creep or swim or fly or run,
After me so as you never saw!
And I chiefly use my charm
On creatures that do people harm,
The mole and toad and newt and viper;
And people call me the Pied Piper.”
(And here they noticed round his neck
A scarf of red and yellow stripe,
To match with his coat of the self-same check;
And at the scarf’s end hung a pipe;
And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying
As if impatient to be playing
Upon this pipe, as low it dangled
Over his vesture so old-fangled.)
“Yet," said he, “poor piper as I am,
In Tartary I freed the Cham,
Last June, from his huge swarm of gnats;
I eased in Asia the Nizam
Of a monstrous brood of vampyre-bats:
And as for what your brain bewilders–
If I can rid your town of rats
Will you give me a thousand guilders?”
“One? Fifty thousand!” was the exclamation
Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

VII

Into the street the Piper stept,
Smiling first a little smile,
As if he knew what magic slept
In his quiet pipe the while;
Then, like a musical adept,
To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives–
Followed the Piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped advancing,
And step for step they followed dancing,
Until they came to the river Weser
Wherein all plunged and perished!
‹Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar,
Swam across and lived to carry
(As the manuscript he cherished)
To Rat-land home his commentary:
Which was, “At the first shrill notes of the pipe,
I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,
And putting apples, wondrous ripe,
Into a cider-press’s gripe:
And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards,
And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,
And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,
And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks:
And it seemed as if a voice
(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery
Is breathed) called out, ‘Oh rats, rejoice!
The world is grown to one vast dry-saltery!
So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,
Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!’
And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,
All ready staved, like a great sun shone
Glorious scarce an inch before me,
Just as methought it said ‘Come bore me!’
– I found the Weser rolling o’er me.”

VIII

You should have heard the Hamelin people
Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.
Go," cried the Mayor, “and get long poles!
Poke out the nests and block up the holes!
Consult with carpenters and builders
And leave in our town not even a trace
Of the rats!”-- when suddenly, up the face
Of the Piper perked in the market-place,
With a, “First, if you please, my thousand guilders!”

IX

A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;
So did the Corporation too.
For council dinners made rare havoc
With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
And half the money would replenish
Their cellar’s biggest butt with Rhenish.
To pay this sum to a wandering fellow
With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!
“Beside," quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink,
“Our business was done at the river’s brink;
We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,
And what’s dead can’t come to life, I think.
So, friend, we’re not the folks to shrink
From the duty of giving you something for drink,
And a matter of money to put in your poke;
But as for the guilders, what we spoke
Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.
Beside, our losses have made us thrifty.
A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!

X

The Piper’s face fell, and he cried,
“No trifling! I can’t wait! Beside,
I’ve promised to visit by dinnertime
Bagdad, and accept the prime
Of the Head-Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in,
For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,
Of a nest of scorpions no survivor–
With him I proved no bargain-driver,
With you, don’t think I’ll bate a stiver!
And folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion.”

XI

“How?” cried the Mayor, “d’ye think I brook
Being worse treated than a Cook?
Insulted by a lazy ribald
With idle pipe and vesture piebald?
You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
Blow your pipe there till you burst!”

XII

Once more he stept into the street
And to his lips again
Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;
And ere he blew three notes (such sweet
Soft notes as yet musician’s cunning
Never gave the enraptured air)
There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling
Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,
Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering,
And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering,
Out came the children running.
All the little boys and girls,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.

XIII

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
As if they were changed into blocks of wood,
Unable to move a step or cry,
To the children merrily skipping by–
And could only follow with the eye
That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back.
But how the Mayor was on the rack
And the wretched Council’s bosoms beat,
As the Piper turned from the High Street
To where the Weser rolled its water’s
Right in the way of their sons and daughters!
However he turned from South to West
And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,
And after him the children pressed;
Great was the joy in every breast.
“He never can cross that mighty top!
He’s forced to let the piping drop
And we shall see our children stop!
When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,
A wondrous portal opened wide,
As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
And the Piper advanced and the children followed,
And when all were in to the very last,
The door in the mountain-side shut fast.
Did I say all? No! One was lame,
And could not dance the whole of the way;
And in after years, if you would blame
His sadness, he was used to say,–
“It’s dull in our town since my playmates left!
I can’t forget that I’m bereft
Of all the pleasant sights they see,
Which the Piper also promised me.
For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
Joining the town and just at hand,
Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,
And flowers put forth a fairer hue,
And everything was strange and new;
The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
And their dogs outran our fallow deer,
And honey-bees had lost their stings,
And horses were born with eagles’ wings:
And just as I became assured
My lame foot would be speedily cured,
The music stopped and I stood still,
And found myself outside the hill,
Left alone against my will,
To go now limping as before,
And never hear of that country more!

XIV

Alas, alas for Hamelin!
There came into many a burgher’s pate
A text which says that heaven’s gate
Opens to the rich at as easy rate
As the needle’s eye takes a camel in!
The mayor sent East, West, North and South,
To offer the Piper, by word of mouth
Wherever it was men’s lot to find him,
Silver and gold to his heart’s content,
If he’d only return the way he went,
And bring the children behind him.
But when they saw ‘twas a lost endeavor,
And Piper and dancers were gone forever,
They made a decree that lawyers never
Should think their records dated duly
If, after the day of the month and year,
These words did not as well appear:
“And so long after what happened here
On the twenty-second of July,
Thirteen hundred and seventy-six;"
And the better in memory to fix
The place of the children’s last retreat,
They called it the Pied Piper’s Street,
Where any one playing on pipe or tabor
Was sure for the future to lose his labor.
Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern
To shock with mirth a street so solemn,
But opposite the place of the cavern
They wrote the story on a column,
And on the great church-window painted
The same, to make the world acquainted
How their children were stolen away,
And there it stands to this very day.
And I must not omit to say
That, in Transylvania there’s a tribe
Of alien people who ascribe
To the outlandish ways and dress
On which their neighbors lay such stress,
To their fathers and mothers having risen
Out of some subterranean prison
Into which they were trepanned
Long time ago in a mighty band
Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,
But how or why they don’t understand.

XV

So, Willy, let you and me be wipers
Of scores out with all men–especially pipers!
And, whether they pipe us free, from rats or from mice,
If we’ve promised them ought, let us keep our promise.

…pardon?..

I will leave you with a nice toon. x

That’s what the sheep said to Little Bo Peep, on the day it was due to be despatched to the abattoir.

“They’re coming to take me away Baa Baa”

Or as gumbud would say “Tonight,it’s just me & ewe,y’sexy beast!”

Or me and ewe and a dog named Boo.