Blootered quippery...
All contents- poem and Blog text - © Louis J. Casson 2018 All rights reserved.
Hello everyone and welcome to my Blog.
Three poems from my collection in preparation “Rattlemon”.
“Simple Life Blues” is a straight forward series of comments – a bit tongue in cheek re the remark about reading, as I tend to read a lot!
“And the sea” is about acceptance of the environment around us, also the disconnect we experience by living indoors mostly (to be avoided).
Finally we have “Blootered quippery”, a playful take on wine brands. Blootered is the scots expression for drunk; awfie = awful.
Hope you enjoy the poems, till next time, take care.
Best wishes,
Louis
Simple life blues
Some people show love, some people aint kind
Just take what you can carry, leave the rest behind.
I get up early in the morning, so round three I take a nap.
My friend’s a guitar tuned real low, the rest a pile of crap.
I drink beer Fridays in the tavern, love that IPA.
Down two pints, then turn and leave, til next Wednesday.
Some people show love, some people aint kind
Just take what you can carry, leave the rest behind.
I feel no need to wonder, no need to pause and think.
Why trouble trouble reading books, when you can play and drink?
Some people show love, some people aint kind
Just take what you can carry, leave the rest behind.
And the sea
And the sea does what it does.
No need to analyse
Just watch and let it all sink in.
Like you simply be and is
Enough and nothing more.
And the sky is what it is.
Drifting clouds passing static watchers.
In motion like a kind of Chinese roll
Inch by inch revealed.
And the land is under our feet.
Always holding us grounded
As we stand, constant as we move.
If at times too much
We retreat into a house
Shelter from sea and sky and land.
But like faithful friends
Outside they wait,
Knowing our absence is only a pause
Before a return.
Blootered quippery
In the evil black tower
Live the shaolin Blue Nuns
Keeping Mateus the rosy in chains.
While in the Castille del diablo
Behind a portal iron door
Old camp count Viejo sleeps no more.
Let’s play with winey words
They make the tongue, the mind, slippery.
Some glasses too much
Leads to awfie bad quippery!
All contents- poem and Blog text - © Louis J. Casson 2018 All rights reserved.
Louis