Monthly Archives: May 2017

Leaders’ Debates

Leaders’ Debates

 

Why have I developed such revulsion to the Leaders’ debates?
Perhaps it is because at present their rhetoric so dominates
I should appreciate that all this is intended to educate and inform
By why must their tempers so quickly rise like a gathering storm

Wouldn’t it be nice if each of these earnest protagonists
Could approach the others as friends not antagonists
Why could they not address their rivals with a wide open smile
Rather than a verbal onslaught, completely hostile?

Sometimes they begin in a reasonable manner
But that never lasts long as they raise their own banner
And claim for their party the monopoly of good
And all counterclaims are simply falsehood

Politics has been called ‘the art of the possible’
But some politicians assert they can do the impossible
Whereas it is really about what you can actually get done
And that seems about true for MP’s as for anyone

Manifestos seem to promise the kingdom of heaven
And pledges made or broken are MP’s obsession
I wish for a while they would be more realistic
And state the hard facts and not contorted statistics

Above all I wish they would stop shouting over each other
If they heard a replay they would quite soon discover
That only one at a time can really be heard
And calm, cool, presentation would be much preferred

However, I doubt if my pleadings will change their approach
Despite any prior efforts from a slick media coach
Perhaps it would be better if, like wrestlers, they were put in a ring
And at least they might then stop feuding when they hear the bell ring!

……………………………..


And now we have the contest of the heavy weights
The most elevated level of these current debates
Where the champion of each party faction
Had to spar with the formidable Jeremy Paxman
Winners or losers were hard to detect
But Paxman makes me feel I would like to defect
From the political broadcasts so much over-heated
Where only the viewers seem somewhat defeated

Ken Fisher

Get Wired In

Get Wired In
[for National Paper Clip Day]

I wonder if like me, you had no idea
That there is a useful device that brings us cheer
It’s a humble item of office equipment
Which ensures our papers get proper treatment

I am referring to a widget often overlooked
But is ever so useful to keep our sheets hooked
Together in some storage container or file
Where they need to reside for quite a while

This simple device, just a bent piece of wire
To greater fame it would never aspire
But the service of the humble paper clip
Is vital to ensure that loose pages don’t slip

So today I am told is National Paper Clip Day
And coincides with another office holiday
So perhaps all the paper clips will straighten themselves out
And leap from the desk-tidy as they dance and shout

For we certainly should celebrate the paper clip
Whose value our minds will often let slip
We should rejoice in its power to keep things together
An example we humans might sometimes remember

Ken Fisher

 

Sweat!

Sweat! [Posted on really hot day in May 2017!]

‘Men perspire while women really do just glow, claim scientists after discovering
that the fairer sex needs to work much harder to build up a sweat.’
Quote from an article in Daily Telegraph

‘Blood, sweat and tears’- the fruits of strenuous effort
‘Sweated labour’ – the regime to suffer when working in a sweatshop
‘By the sweat of your brow’ – the Genesis punishment of mankind
‘His sweat became like drops of blood’ – Jesus at the Mount of Olives

Sweat, that flows from fear, or anguish, exhaustion or terror
Sweat, we try to disguise when in public performance
Sweat, that in lighter vein, we generate in cathartic exercise
Sweat, exuded when we lie to conceal the truth, known to us alone

Sweat, that fluid mixed with such heightened emotion
Sweat, that telltale signal of stress we would deny
Sweat, triumphant when we complete that marathon
Sweat, in that catastrophic second before the crash

Somehow the word ‘sweat’ is rarely neutral or dispassionate
We try to work up a sweat, or break out into a sweat, even sweat blood
We might find ourselves in a sweat about a girl/boy, and just have to sweat it out
We can wear sweat’s clothes – sweat sock, sweat suit, sweater

Finally we note the claim above that it is men who sweat
[Usually like a pig – do pigs actually sweat?]
But no such indignity for the women
All that effort or emotion merely makes them glow!

Ken Fisher

When the Light Darkens, yet once more

When the Light Darkens yet once more

I find it hard to realise that I am posting this poem yet once more.
It appeared after the terrorist attacks and bombings in Paris, Brussels and Nice,
and since then we have had the runaway car on Westminster Bridge and now this atrocity in Manchester. Will there be no end to it?
[I have added a new final verse]

When life seems good and full of light
How can its days turn into night?
But that it does there is no doubt
And inwardly we have to shout

What has gone wrong, who can we blame?
Why can’t our path remain the same?
A life of praise for all its joy
No longer does our heart employ

We seek for reasons why things change
And far and wide our thoughts do range
But contemplation brings no balm
It does not cheer or bring us calm

We agonise o’er words and deeds
O’er failure to confront the needs
That might these tragedies divert
And so our sorrow thus avert

But in this time of sad reflection
No nostrum found for lost affection
And only sadness is in sight
No early hope of love or light

Thus we must journey on our way
No cure for pain our fears allay
Our only hope that time might ease
And thus restore our inward peace

But just as night will turn to day
We’ll find again the sun’s bright ray
Will slowly mend our broken heart
As warmth and love it does on us impart

But while this may be true of the nation
What of the bereaved and wounded, where consolation?
The balm of time may bring its healing
Not before much abject weeping

Ken Fisher

typo

typo

Discovering you have made an unfortunate typo
Is enough to turn a sane man into a sycho
After you’v checked every word of the script
Your reputation for accuracy has suddenly sliped

Typos come in many different disgises
Sometimes in ways that would even surprise us
You find them as as unintended duplication
And ocassionally with ones’ wrong punctuation

Spelling as you see is very often a trap
Resulting in many a ritten mishap
And of course there is the sin of omis ion
Its something that would justify strong admonision

Of course such prolbems we can quiet easily solve
And a good spell-chequer would these mostly resolve
Typos might simply be caused by a smelling mistake
And with determination the foul habit we’ll brake

An example of a typo I will never forget
Caused the passing public quite an upset
A sculptor, on a statue, carved out the following inscription
“This monument was paid for by pubic subscription”

Ken Fisher

200 Years of the Glasgow Botanic Gardens

200 Years of the Glasgow Botanic Gardens

 

Congratulations to this old friend
Providing such pleasure and satisfaction
For two centuries you have been our pride and joy
Playground and classroom for successive generations

Thanks to those whose foresight became our legacy
Benefactors and botanists who nurtured this grandiose project
The City Fathers in their own time too
Who promoted the development of the gardens

History tells of the sub-terranean railway line
And the old bandstand at the crown of the hill
In more recent times the Kelvin Walkway
Arboretum and Bard in the Botanics

In the wide pathways and greensward
Now liberated from restrictions of an earlier age
Children of all ages cavort quite uninhibited
While others meander along riverside walks

Surely the crowning glory of this renowned parkland
The glasshouses, Kibble and Main Range
Custodians of exotic plant species
Promoter of science and art together

Past venue for political diatribes to sway our views
And religious rallies to stir the heart and save the soul
Meeting point for horticultural aficionados
And platforms for booksellers and plant societies

Couples newly wed parade quite unabashed
Along the main pathway’s wide expanse
As photographers like the paparazzi
Seek the image that will surely flatter

And tiny tots with their attentive guardians
Flex youthful muscles while learning how to balance
In the play areas especially designed for them
A kindergarten for growing minds and bodies

Behind the scenes at the Botanics
Much serious work is undertaken
While visitors refresh themselves in cafes
The cultivation of the plants is centre stage

So thanks to those who had the vision and the will
To establish this treasure trove in our green space
We salute those pioneers and innovators
And pledge to do our part to honour their generous legacy

Ken Fisher

Cyber Safe

Cyber Safe

 

All of a sudden we have become more aware
Of the potential dangers lurking out there
When we had assumed that all our data’s secure
And of our privacy we felt we could still be sure

But news of the latest world wide hacking
And of storage devices the blatant ransacking
Our sacrosanct records hitherto inviolate
Some unknown intruder sought to liberate

And not only did these felons seek to gain access
Their aim was by blackmail to achieve much success
And by extortion derive a profit quite handsome
By demanding from us a large bit-coin ransom

If we did not accede to their outrageous demands
They would wrest possession out of our hands
And we could no longer govern our business affairs
Or financial assets held in banks, bonds or shares

And health authorities that maintain records of patients
Found that not only people but systems acquired complications
And so the way in which we run things in all organisations
Were subject to widespread data starvation

And when we reflect on the risks around cyber security
When so many computers now have little immunity
One wonders if perhaps we should take a step back
And use chalk and slate – much less easy to hack!

 

Ken Fisher

White Van Man

White Van Man

 

If I am honest with myself I am filled with prejudice
Because I view the white van man as if he were some vice
In recent years he has come to dominate our streets
And this type of vehicle seems to come in fleets

He (or she) weaves their way throughout the heavy traffic
At speeds as good as any Jeremy Clarkson fanatic
And when they decide to stop and block the thoroughfare
For the other road users they simply don’t seem to care

Of course the rise of this modern entrepreneur
From humble tradesman quite obscure
To ubiquitous solution for all that we desire
Gives a quick and easy nostrum if only we will hire

Apart from all the crafts and trades traditional
White van men now handle things much less conventional
So pet grooming, dog walking, or if your walls need scraping
Portable discos, barbecues, or even some landscaping

White van man has found a way to access all locations
The sat nav easily pinpoints any house throughout the nation
And despite the fact he may cause mighty road congestion
He will eventually get there, of that there is no question

Because we have fallen in love with on-line shopping
All these parcels will then need rapid shipping
So the white van can be detected night and day
He must meet his target-time and never go astray

Perhaps instead of getting peeved at the sight of white van man
We should be thankful for all that’s concealed inside his van
Whether it is his skill and the tools to meet our needs
Or on-line goods from Amazon and favourite books to read

Ken Fisher

Summer Moon

Summer Moon

Summer moon hanging lofty in the sky
Its dappled face almost asking why?
Seeming so near and yet so far
Neither quite a planet nor a star

Constant companion of her mother earth
From whom she may have received her birth
Waxing and waning as the light reflects
But ne’er revealing her dark obverse

On summer days she emits a discreet glow
An unobtrusive presence to us below
At night her modesty is cast aside
As she besports herself with pride

We gaze with wonder at this mysterious sphere
Her facial features to our distant eyes made clear
We marvel at the enormity of endless space
And man’s insignificance in that vast place

Ken Fisher

 

See also:  https://thebardofkelvindale.com/2017/01/17/moon

Green Energy

Green Energy

The need for energy that is said to be renewable
A utility whose worth is doubtless invaluable
Has prompted the search for this holy grail
Manifest in the breath that moves these sails

As the invisible air-flow traverses the land
The pressure exerts its powerful hand
Forcing these mighty blades to rotate
Driving the dynamo as they twist and gyrate

We are able to steal from the atmosphere
By subtle legerdemain it would appear
And simply by raising up these metal arms
We have beguiled the wind to yield its charms

So thank goodness for this mysterious spell
Green power from this wondrous carousel
And as long as that breeze continues to blow
Such bounty on us it will surely bestow

Ken Fisher

Events

Events

Politicians use this expression as a lame excuse
Hoping it’s sufficient to get them off the hook
When unforeseen events pop up in the frame
They hope that you will realize they cannot take the blame

Events are things that happen, mostly commonplace
The everyday occurrences that inflict the human race
But sometimes an event can be on a grander scale
Men landing on the moon, or the beaching of a whale

Throughout our lives events come on as we progress
From the cradle, thorough all the years, eventually to death
But most of us expect that in between these important dates
A mixture of joy and sadness is bound to be our fate

Some people might view their life as a sporting competition
Each new event a trial or test, all jockeying for position
So all goes well if eventually they come out as the victor
But if that is so, then the rest of us might never be a winner

Whatever happens as we continue on the road of life
In days of lucky happenstance or even times of strife
Events, by definition, are bound to come along
They exist in every moment and through all life long

It is better to welcome than from events to turn away
And as they arrive simply try some good cheer to display
And thus you will appreciate that regardless of their nature
Events, what e’er they be, are all our past and future

Ken Fisher

Midges

Midges

 

It’s official, the hot news is newly broken
From the sleep of winter this little beastie’s woken
And there is little doubt it is a bigger menace
Than the eponymous comic kid known to us as Dennis

Apparently there are billions of these tiny little creatures
Which of summer, in our Highlands, is a distinctive feature
Their thirst for our blood is completely unremitting
Which sometimes forced defeated visitors into quickly quitting

Press reports tell us the female midge is the one to blame
As she seeks out her victims and sets their skin aflame
‘Cause midges have decided that we make a tasty meal
Caring little for the itch and lumps, and how they make us feel

These beasts force us to look for methods ourselves to protect
Our face and arms and legs and other parts you wont expect
For they are very persistent in their determined hot pursuit
And to the consequences they simply don’t give a hoot!

There is no simple remedy for this annual intimidating plague
Pundits offer creams and sprays but on success they are quite vague
Perhaps we simply must reconcile ourselves to the midge invasion
Pleading with visitors still to come, by all powers of persuasion

Ken Fisher