Plog 30th June 2012

June 30th, 2012 Posted in Uncategorized

Dear Readers

Sorry it has taken me so long to keep you posted. It has been a busy term, interrupted with health concerns, all of which adds to my experience and potential ability to serve you better.

Recently I have been participating in a collaborative creative writing venture run by Missorts and I hope to part in the recording at the beginning of July, which will be exciting. Tony White, the writer, who runs the project, called my poem an epic. I shall be interested to hear your views.

Emerge and See

In the wash of stagnant water
In the eddies and the froth
In the trickles and the prickles
In the spurts of Redcliffe wrath

By the Premier Off Licence
Near the church and near the school
Guild of Milliners assembled
Hats off to them as a rule.

It was near the sugar candy
Red and white pole turning round
Telling us that barbers grandly
Advertise without a sound.

Like the rock you buy at seasides
It could hollow out your teeth
While you’re witness to the tides
And scissors chopping underneath.

Red for blood and white for toothpaste
Barbers performed surgery
Which the milliners defaced
By covering their artistry.

Taste of peppermint – detergent
That’s adept for our whitening
If the cap fits it is urgent
Under the carpet – frightening

Scary absence of the hair louse
Hid beneath the shrouds of hat
Knitted nits in fitted farmhouse
Where the barber smells a rat

In the wash of stagnant water
By the Eddies millinery
Near the gorgeous Osborne porter
Numismatic you can see

Came a rinse that bore reflection
Came a quince that smelt of juice
Came a prince whose predilection
Wouldn’t wince in styling mousse

By the bollards on the mooring
Like the Tardis Dr Who
Landed in on cobbled flooring
Where he wobbled with his crew.

Very like and very unlike
Similarbut not the same
Amy Pond, the Doctor’s on strike
The Tardis is not to blame

Time and relative dimension
In space, is an acronym
Telephone kiosk suspension
Takes a place that’s growing grim

In the wake of barges steaming
To their tow-ropes’ trusted tug
Someone spake but no one heard him
Gave a speech then gave a glug.

Plane tree pom pom hit the gutter
Rolling readily along
With no words that you could utter
Harnessed wind to sing his song

‘It will all come out in the wash’
The oracles informed us
The hairdresser is rather posh
Yet he will not stand for fuss.

In the square the hatters partied
Noticing the turning pole
Where the waters were unchartered
They’re not here to take a stroll.

By the cavalier hair sculpture
By the castles in the air
Barbers damned milliners’ culture.
To the hatters that’s not fair.

‘How do you propose to clothe it –
This monstrosity of hair –
When the serious must loathe it
Sitting in the barber’s chair?’

Thus did state the chief milliner
With his headstrong rhetoric
Barber bounced back something sim’lar
‘Who wants hats you dismal Dick?’

The feud between the hair and hats
Exuded such competition
Twisted temperaments tied in plaits
Required renewed condition.

‘We’ll take you to court’ the hat chief
Ranted raising crazy stakes.
‘Just as you wish’ with some relief
The barber knew what it takes

To turn the curls in inns of court
And place in pins the judges
Whose wigs he makes up as he ought
And from his sins ne’er budges.

On the pavement lands the pom pom
Alien from outer space
Harry hatter picked it up, from
Kicking feet to frowning face.

‘I could make a helmet like this’
Said young Harry with a wink.
‘Each symmetrical spoke-spike is
Trendier than you might think.’

‘Who would wear your bold creation?
Hair round here is set in stone.
Cavalier celebration
Of such style is yours alone.’

‘Do you not see? It’s around head.’
The inventor demonstrates.
‘Verily I’m glad I found it
Spherical– as round as plates.’

‘This is like the second coming
From the Heavens to the Earth!
Please don’t dither with the dumbing
Down of this messiah’s birth.’

Milliners were making mince meat
Pilloried in the soap stock
Fontange bouffant, human bondage
Murky now as ringlets rock

Tonsorial ponsers did not
Think so. ‘Tarry Harry Hat.
Tonsils out now on the spot
We’ll floss your gloss. That is that.’

‘It’s not for wearing out of doors’
Said Harry, firmly, ‘instead
Inside that barber’s shop of yours
Set it firmly on each head’

‘For what purpose?’ cried the hatters
‘Barbers take our business by
Making hair so ostentatious
Wearing hats is pie in sky.’

‘When the wash has reached fruition
Every splosh is overkill
Now bigosh it is my mission
To cut and dry the barber’s bill.’

Harry happily responded
Rubbing sticks to make his mark
Just as the extensions bonded
He exploited plane tree bark.

Corinthian columns crown
The capital of Bristle
With plane tree pom pom’s posh renown
Under the toe of mistle

Thus was made the first hair dryer
Styled upon the pom pom plant
When the wisdom hits the fire
Perms pervade each ancient aunt.

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