a cornucopia of clerihews consisting of a chronology of crackpots

-
A stone age Chieftain called Ug
Who some thought a bit of a thug
He tethered a stick to a stone 
From then on the club was born

The Emperor Julius caesar 
Was an imperious geezer
He was bound to set all Rome a quiver
When he forded that famed Gallic river

The tyrannical Genghis Khan 
Was a very dangerous  man
In fact there was no one crazier 
In the whole continent of Asia 

And it's onwards and viva Jo Stalin 
Cos he was a right little darling
He had quite a talent for moreism 
When imposing Siberian tourism 

Let's raise a glass for Sir Winston 
He'd more soldier in him than Princeton 
Left feeling a bit of a nelly
When he reached for that soft underbelly 

Although  Hitler looked very funny
His outlook wasn't  so sunny
But eventually he came undone 
In a bunker with old Eva Brun

And as for that Idi Amin 
He was more than a little bit mean
He set everybody to shiver 
Chowing down on his enemies liver

I feel I must mention the Trump
Some say he's a bit of a chump 
But life is a work of art
When you realise he's named for a fart.


Popular posts from this blog

Yugen

-
 Yugen A pair of Barn Owls wheel and skrike in a wraithlike reel. Their ghostly bodies soar and dive as twighlight heralds days decline. At it's zenith, star speckled midnight blue softens into amethyst. Amethyst pales into robust lilacs as the boiling sky reaches for the horizon. Lilacs flux and smelt onto the burnt orange of the gloriously perishing Sun. As the World works through its joy and wretchedness, in each of its rotations. The people pray and dream and laugh and cry, craving love and fearing death. Seeing the Universe in all its fairness and lack of fairness. They await inevitable entropy and definite demise. They sigh. What deity in his omniscient affection would bestow upon me such an ability. To perceive simultaneously the breathtaking splendour and the aching pointlessness. There is no revelation here, no karma, no absolution. There is no Yin and Yang here my friend, just pure beauty in all its unfathomability. It is burdensome and i am tired.
Read more

A Good Day

-
Charlie Montford, or " Monty" to his friends, and to his enemies for that matter, bent to his task, his back creaking as he lifted the nearly whole dog end from the roadside kerb. There could be rich pickings by the bus stop on the High Street. The weary looking shoppers perpetually tested the theory that if you lit up a cigarette, it would make the bus appear. The veracity of this idea had a direct correlation to Monty's overall wellbeing. The warm, dry Summer had dispensed with the rigmarole of drying out wet tobacco to incorporate into his tin and the bus queues gifted him with barely smoked cigs which were good to just  light up, needing no processing. His weather beaten face folded itself into a grin as he pondered on whether to light up now or save it until he had rustled up a brew from somewhere. Decision made, he fumbled around the many pockets of his sun bleached combat pants for any one of several lighters stowed about his person. You can't  have enough ligh
Read more