The Dentist’s Chair
The dentist terrifies me,
And I had recently relapsed,
So imagine my distress when the bloody chair collapsed.
I hardly need to tell you,
I was under some duress,
As he picked up all the bits and blamed it on the NHS.
The thwack and twang of latex,
The arrival of a nurse…
Would I need a filling or (God help me) something worse?
He poked about a little,
With a mirror and a prodder,
Then he put a lengthy hose pipe in to deal with all the slobber.
“Ouch! That bloody hurt, you swine!”
“Aha! You have a cavity!
I’ll fill it now while this chair still defies the laws of gravity.”
I swear, the man’s a sadist,
Not in the least bit sympathetic,
When I dared to ask if I could have an anaesthetic.
The minute he had finished,
I bolted out the door,
Away from the commotion as the chair collapsed once more
When I was a hippy,
Back in nineteen seventy-three,
A friend had laced my cuppa with a whack of LSD!
Feeling rather giddy, on a cold March afternoon,
The weight was off my shoulders,So I felt like a balloon!
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
And saw a daffodil,
Standing, tall and proud against the wind, up on the hill.
I clambered up and sat with him,
“Hey dude!” I said out loud.
“Man!”he said, “I’m chillin’ – would you please get off my cloud?!”
I know it sounds incredulous,
But what else can I say?
A talking daffodil was not a great surprise, that day!
The sun was slowly melting,
In a green and purple haze,
The emerald of coming spring – a scarlet, amber blaze.
A poet could not but be gay,
At such a lovely sight,
Yet my stoic, little daffodil was clearly in a plight.
His yellow petals quivered,
And so justified my fears,
As from his little orange trumpet flowed a steady stream of tears.
“You should be with a host,” I said,
“Did they leave you behind?”
He said he’d sprouted late and then and no daffies could he find.
I told him not to worry,
I knew where they would be,
It wouldn’t take too long if he would just hang out with me.
I carefully dug out his bulb
And handled him with care,
And took him to a forest glade – I knew he’d love it there.
Ten thousand saw I, at a glance,
A golden host, for sure!
In my hippy-zonkie trance, I could not have asked for more!
I keep a look-out, every spring,
While walking in the hills,
As my heart, as well as Wordsworth’s dances with the daffodils!
Grumpybugger greetings cards
by Maddy Sykes
My name is Maddy Sykes.
Having been about for a while, trying to be normal, I finally realised that (depending on your definition of normality) I am much more inclined not to be. To aid my recovery from the real world, I have now retreated to a hypothetical banana tree. Here, I can rant and rave as much as I want, knowing I will not upset anyone.
To vent my spleen, I put evil thoughts into poems and my birodoodles. I hope you enjoy them.
If you care to visit the banana tree, you are very welcome. Leave your inhibitions behind you and I will throw you a rope! You may even meet my Barmy Owls, The Animal Funny Farm or The Grumpy Buggers. There is more to this than meets the eye.
Rats! I really hate them!
They’re vermin, nothing less.
They’re sly, they spread diseases,
And they make a bloody mess.
An old wives’ tale it may be,
But there is some truth in that,
No matter where you are,
You’re only six feet from a rat!
They consume almost anything,
Including their own poo,
And, given half a chance,
I’m sure they’d eat each other, too!
I had rats in my dustbin,
Some few years ago,
God knows how they got there,
But they put on quite a show.
They jumped so high, they hit the lid,
And when the Rat-man shot them,
I glimpsed the hatred in their eyes,
And fangs that dripped pure venom!
An unopened Mars bar box,
Was on the stock room floor.
Emptied of all content,
The work of rats, I’m sure.
Indeed, beneath the box,
There was a gaping hole,
Through which they’d dragged the Mars bars,
To a space behind the wall.
If you have a ratty situation,
Or their antics have been giving you distress,
There are a few things you can do that may relieve that,
Although I haven’t ever put them to the test.
Grow daffodils and hyacinth,
Some lavender as well.
Mint is really great,
Because they hate the smell.
Human hair and mothballs,
Can make them rather queasy,
And peanut butter spread about,
Is really rather easy
God forbid, that you should find a rat inside your house,
But if you do, remember you’re not dealing with a mouse!
If you should catch the bugger, you can flush him down the loo
But remember you are showing him another way in, too!
Only think of the man who needs the loo, deep in the night,
Lifting up the seat, he’d have a bloody awful fright,
Personally, I would just leave everything alone,
And call someone, so I’d not be with ratty all alone!
These creatures aren’t the pet shop type, all snowy white and cute,
What we really need is a pied piper with a flute!
Poem and birodoodle
by Maddy Sykes