Pass-Remarkable

Pass-Remarkable

Have you noticed how some people are very pass-remarkable?
On whatever catches their attention they must have something to say
The clothes we are wearing, the books that we are reading
Into our topical discussion they must inveigh

These self-appointed experts never fail to comment
No restriction to the issues on which they pontificate
Their encyclopaedic knowledge is rapidly paraded
Erudition they feel compelled to demonstrate

Of course there is a risk that these pundits sometimes overlook
One of their hearers might actually know far more
And when they lay forth with the mantle of a guru
They are then perceived as a frivolous bore

On the other hand we sometimes meet the strong silent type
Each thought considered, every utterance measured
From their lips no unhurried remark will ever pass
Each precious nugget by the hearers to be treasured

So is there a happy medium, to comment or abstain?
There must be some conversation, some social intercourse
Afterall it’s speech which separates us from the beasts
By our friendly chatter our humanity we endorse

Ken Fisher

Almost Buggered It Up

Almost Buggered It Up
[A sequel to my earlier poem Don’t Bugger It Up]

Boris wins the Vote of Confidence 6/6/22

It couldn’t last is what they said
But Boris proved them wrong
It’s not yet quite buggered up
Is his triumphant song

You thought Houdini was pretty fly
The famous escapologist
But Boris surely proved to be
The smartest self-apologist

In Biblical times it was Lazarus
Rising miraculously from the grave
But our blonde hero showed his worth
Fleeing from that narrow shave

He lives to fight another day
Defeating every rival
Who cares what anybody thinks?
No threat to his survival

So love or hate we’re stuck with him
He’ll bask in unending limelight
And we’ll just have suffer it
For the last thing Boris is, is contrite

Ken Fisher
Previous Poem on this theme
Don’t Bugger It Up!

Keep the Heid and Haud Yer Wheesht

Keep the Heid and Haud Yer Wheesht

When by world events you’re overwhelmed
By screaming kids you’re round the bend
Inside, you’re begging ‘gie me peace’
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

When you’re caught up in argy-bargy
Any concession rather tardy
No forgiveness not the least
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

When all around is gloom and doom
For happy thoughts there seems no room
Inside you’re pleading for release
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

When politicians shout and squabble
TV debates become a rabble
With little light and too much heat
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

When ranting preachers point the finger
Our pleasures they would surely hinder
From protestation be released
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

With all that would our lives disturb
Knee-jerk reactions we should curb
A moment’s thought might tame the beast
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

Such approach no cowardly plea
Perhaps more a pause to wait and see
E’er retaliation is unleashed
Just keep the heid and haud yer wheesht

Ken Fisher

 

 

 

 

 

Tweakment

Tweakment

You’ve already found it’s hard to keep
Your New Year resolutions
Too radical by far you think
What’s the alternative solution?

You could abandon all you’ve pledged
No need for it to happen
Who cares about a little drink?
Just jump down off the wagon

But a coward you don’t want to be
Lacking in backbone
So what’s the choice, let’s not delay
Take action, don’t postpone

You’ve promised to make changes
Bad habits to remove
A better self, a nicer me
Would all the world approve

Perhaps a lot less painful
A less severe critique
A wee minor adjustment
What we all call a tweak!

For these we don’t need a therapist
On the couch our souls unburden
To fill our minds with cleansing thoughts
The latest psycho jargon

So whatever in your life that ails
Just tickle or fine tune
Without doubt this simple act
Will be a blessing and a boon

Cheap at the price, it does the trick
Involves no complex treatment
Decide what in your life to change
And get on with the tweakment!

Ken Fisher

Twixmas

Twixmas

What do you do during the week we call Twixmas
The seven twilight days following Christmas?
And as rowdy Scots may gear up for the revelry
Traditionally known to them all as Hogmanay

I suppose most use these hours to sleep it off
All that rich food and booze that they quaffed
Others take time to play with their toys
Not only the kids but grown-up boys

Perhaps the virtuous write thank-you notes
For gifts received which fulfilled their hopes
Others might try to remember who gave them what
From Aunt Matilda – underpants? Who would have thought?

Then there are all those gift vouchers or Amazon codes
If you’re into high tech you might have got loads
Like on a much coveted cake these are the cream
But I wish you success as you try to redeem

Perhaps in Twixmas we might visit some friends
To bring seasonal greetings, but try not to offend
For the coming year, to wish them all the best
But you must first of all take a Lateral Flow Test

Some might decide they want to get active
That new sporting kit they think makes them attractive
But there are even more who prefer indoors instead
Tucked cosily together neath the new duvet in bed!

So in Twixmas it’s for each one to decide
And whatever it is you are not surely obliged
To listen to others telling what you should do
Lazy or active it’s all down to you!

 

Ken Fisher

The Suit is an Endangered Garment

The Suit is an Endangered Garment

That favoured garb of office staff
Is now considered really naff
Formal dress is not required
Jeans and T-shirt more admired

In days of yore it was expected
Certain standards were respected
And suits were necessary attire
If approval you would acquire

But as office attendance has declined
For Zoom or Teams suits weren’t designed
Thus casual dress has been conceded
Smart formal suits no longer needed

It depends upon the organisation
And the degree of strong persuasion
But many firms allow casual wear
As long as clients it will not scare!

So all this has meant suits are endangered
Party dress or beachwear favoured
So perhaps this decline in things sartorial
Demands for the suit a two-piece memorial!

Ken Fisher

SPAM

SPAM

[Not the Computer kind]

Not quite described as haute cuisine
In posh restaurants rarely seen
But for me spam’s still a tasty treat
And with all others can compete

It soon became the subject of much chatter
This Scientifically Processed Animal Matter
And despite this rather dubious name
Throughout the war it gained great fame

Jokes about spam were often harsh
As food they thought that it was trash
Now unwanted emails hit the bin
Like the contents of the square spam tin

Despite it all the spam sales grew
Its popularity they can’t subdue
Gaining a world-wide reputation
This porky dish devoured by  nations

The years saw varieties proliferate
As different flavours reached our plate
From classic spam to hot and spicy
Chorizo, Turkey, and Pumpkin pricey

Spam products offer versatility
Long shelf-life, affordability
It can be cooked in various ways
Round the world we sing its praise

Even today in supermarkets
This revered icon excels sales targets
So to all those food snobs disdaining spam
Stretch out your hand and grab a can

Ken Fisher

Carpet Slippers

Carpet Slippers

The Sixth Age of Man – “Shifts into lean and slippered pantaloon”
[Shakespeare]

Carpet slippers
Symbolic of age and increasing frailty
And why not?

Are feet not entitled to be cosseted
Those extremities petted and pampered?

After all they have supported us
All the day long of this troublous life
They have earned their reward

Carpet slippers – sometimes with Velcro fastening
Stigmatised as high fashion for the care home
The last stand of fragile feet

But isn’t this a bit unfair?
Slippers by definition
Can be slipped on and off

No wrestling with the intricasies of lace tying
At an unreachable distance
Easy access too for your friendly
Chiropodist or [modern] podiatrist

The raison d’etre of carpet slippers
Is to provide comfort
For the weary sole
A function they lovingly perform

But utility is not the only measure
Leather and different fabrics may be employed
And colour and style can enhance
Their otherwise drab image

So don’t be annoyed when younger relatives
Choose to select them as your number one
Christmas present

Be proud to wear your slippers
You won’t be carpeted for doing so!

Ken Fisher

 

 

 

 

Wheesht!

Wheesht!

Wheesht! A Scottish injunction urging silence
Wheesht! Sometimes colloquially expressed
As Haud yer Wheesht or hold your tongue!
It’s a verb, a noun, an interjection

How often have we wished that somebody
Would Wheest for a while?
The irritable baby
The whingeing toddler
The hectoring politician
The ranting preacher
The boring lecturer
The nagging wife
The bombastic father
The orgasmic cries of the sports commentator
The loud expressiveness of the over zealous actor

And it’s not only voices we wish would Wheesht
What about?
The thunderous traffic on a main highway
The cacophony of an orchestra wrestling with modern music
The defiant shriek of the flute bands of the Orange Walk
The throbbing of motor bikes at a veteran’s rally
The alarming siren sound of the ambulances and fire engines

But perhaps sometimes we would prefer the opposite
It’s not Wheesht we want it’s welcome sound of any kind
Like
The first words of an infant
The response of a person awakening from a coma
The “I do” at the altar on the Wedding Day
The let me help you – of a loving friend
The good news from a consultant after you MRI scan
The phone call to say – You’ve got the job!

Wheesht when you should but not for ever

Ken Fisher

A I B U

 

A I B U?

Am I being Unreasonable?

Am I being unreasonable
When I ask what’s for tea
As I’ve had a large lunch
And a snack will do me

Am I being unreasonable
When I expect you to pay
I coughed up all week
And it’s your turn today

Am I being unreasonable
When I say put on a clean shirt
For the job interview
Surely that’s not going to hurt

Am I being unreasonable
When I say you’re getting fat
It looks to me you’re becoming
A bloated plutocrat!

Am I being unreasonable
When I say it’s my turn to choose
Which TV channel to watch
Without giving excuse

Am I being unreasonable
When I say your hair’s turning grey
We ‘re all getting older
That’s all I say

Am I being unreasonable
In whatever I say
Perhaps I should pipe down
And call it a day!

Ken Fisher

Mountebank

Mountebank

Mountebank is an old-fashioned description
Of a person we might view with some suspicion
Someone to whom the truth is a stranger
Disregarding whoever they might endanger

Yet some mountebanks receive our affection
Despite evident flaws and clear imperfection
In fact it seems their shortcomings and chinks in the armour
Enhance their charisma adding even more glamour!

And now you might ask who these mountebanks are?
I suggest you don’t need to cast your thoughts far
Certain politicians of cabinet rank
Well known for failing to always be frank

Without doubt politics requires the skills of a clown
Able to climb back up when you’ve been knocked down
Political debate filled with confrontation
Every exchange can become altercation

The mountebank is more than a simple buffoon
Whose behaviour will change any time soon
Their jocular manner, bright disposition
Means they achieve wide recognition

Mountebanks exist in other professions
Those holding high office in different vocations
CEO’s, judges, medics, architects, all expert contractors
Many seem to have been trained as comic actors!

So perhaps the mountebank should not be derided
Their eccentric personality not seen as lop-sided
There is no doubt virtue among all the vice
And a little clowning surely adds spice!

Ken Fisher

 

No-Shows

No-Shows

“No-shows” are those who we had duly invited
Whose actual presence we surely expected
But for reasons unknown they failed to appear
Whatever has happened remains quite unclear

Their names all printed on the voters roll
A high turn-out is each party’s goal
On election day, their name’s still a blank
And for this omission we don’t know who to thank

Then there are those who won’t take the jab of vaccine
At the centre staff wait, but they’re nowhere to be seen
The syringes are all ready the people to protect
But without plea or excuse they simply defect

Doctors and dentists sometimes join the fray
If you don’t turn up on the expected day
Mind you, if you do, they can still keep you late
This frequently seems to be a poor patient’s fate

But perhaps the worst no-show I’m sure you’ll decide
When at the altar the groom’s lost the bride
The groom stands there waiting that he might be wed
His bride and her father gone AWOL instead

So I hope you won’t resort to being a no-show
If you’re meant to be there you really must go
From whatever duty don’t be an abstention
Avoiding the need for some crisis prevention

 

Ken Fisher