Holiday plans: a comic verse duet

A:     You said you were thinking of holiday plans.

B:     O yes, let's get out and get going.

        We could go to Peru

        Or the isle of Cebu

        Or the Amazon basin by dugout canoe:

        The options are steadily growing! 

 

A:     But Britain, I'll bet, is much safer –

B:                                          – and wet!

A:     But so many options I hear now:

        The lush Channel Islands,

        The lochs of the Highlands –

        I feel more at home when I travel in my lands,

        And travel abroad is so dear now.

 

B:     That's really the best? Why, just think of the rest –

        The world is your oyster, so try it:

        In Nepal, catch a yeti,

        In Rome, make spaghetti,

        Track wildlife across the immense Serengeti –

        Now that's what you'd love, don't deny it.

 

A:     But travel's a pain: it can drive me insane.

        The cramped noisy planes and the waiting,

        And the heat that repels

        And the dodgy hotels

        And the unpleasant food and the horrible smells,

        The queues and the crowds: so frustrating.

 

B:     But let me remind you how charming to find

        A bar on a beach: a mojito

        By a balmy lagoon

        In the light of the moon

        As a gamelan band plays a tropical tune.

A:     You're serious? – this I would veto!

 

        No, think of the Cotswolds: a brisk rural walk,

        The countryside charmingly English:

        There's an old country pub

        With traditional grub

        And a tumbledown cottage without the hubbub.

B:      So plans for abroad you'd extinguish?

 

        Your options are lazy – try something more crazy:

        Sail oceans by breezes prevailing.

        Or traverse the Sahel –

        On a camel as well! –

        Then at Marrakesh wave to the Tuareg farewell.

        Or – scale a Swiss peak while abseiling.

 

A:     It seems you and me will just never agree.

        Perhaps, though, that's not so dismaying.

        Let's plan to stay home –

B:                      – What, we're never to roam?

A:     Yes, I fear we are victims of lockdown syndrome.

        We'll be much more happy just staying.

 

B:     Perhaps you are right: so no trips, no more flights,

        At home we'll remain – no more straying.

        So … forget Madagascar?

        The plains of Nebraska?

        Tierra del Fuego

        Or Montego Bay?

A:                                 No!

B:     Or kayaks in Iceland?

A:     All out of our price band!

        Relaxing at home will be grand –

B:                                 – will suffice, and –

            [pause]

B:     A weekend in Kent?

A:                           No!!

B:                                 Just saying … !

Final rehearsal

However well the rehearsals went, the one thing my choir 

struggles to agree on is the dress code for the performance! 

 

 

two too much

    

 

       SCENE 1: Early morning.

        ART sits looking at the view, in contemplation

        BART enters and watches him for a while, then draws closer

 

 

BART     You seem disenganged somehow. Not enjoying our trip?

ART         O no, I'm loving it.

BART     But you spent hours on your computer today, when you could have been out and about.

ART         You were out and about …

BART     And engaged! You weren't. The point I'm making.

ART         The point you're making?

BART     Yes, the point I'm making.

ART         Which is?

BART     You're disengaged.

ART         No not at all. It's just that I'm also engaged in something else.

BART     Which is?

ART         That was my line.

BART     I know. This is a different 'which is.' What else are you engaged in?

ART         I'm doing this 'write something every day for a month' thing.

BART     The Literal Challenge? Again?

ART         Well, different from last time. This time I'm writing a play rather than a short story.

BART     A play? Isn't that harder?

ART         I don't think so. You can just write a scene.

BART     Surely a play has to have a beginning, a middle and an end.

ART         Well the beginning is easy. And the middle – well it's just the middle, right?

BART     Isn't it meant to be like – three acts?

ART         O that's just a discredited theory about screenplays.

BART     But still, it's three elements. The beginning is, I guess, the set up. Then the middle is the plot. And the end …

ART         I prefer to think of it as two elements really. Plot and denouement. The set up becomes clear as you go along. That's how I'm thinking of it today, anyway.

BART     So you ARE disengaged from our trip then. Just thinking about this play.

ART         Not really. It won't take up much of the day and I can use the time when we're travelling or down time in the hotel. And I've done all the travel blog, writing up the trip. And the research on where we're going. It's only for the last few days of the holiday. And we're going to be in that spa place anyway.

BART     Well, good luck with it then.

ART         And the timing's quite good as we're nine hours ahead. I'll get the briefs at 7:00am and don't have to submit until 7:00pm the next day.

BART     I see. What about the day we travel back and on the plane for 12 hours?

ART         I can write it on the plane and submit when we get home.

BART     You've got it all worked out then.

ART         Yes, and I'll still have plenty of time to enjoy Japan. In fact, I'll just finish this then off to the onsen. There's only one potential problem.

BART     Which is?

ART         Stop saying that will you?

BART     I can't help it. I'm just the Devil's Advocate, apparently. And you're the Author.

ART         Well, there you have the problem in a nutshell.

BART     Pray explain.

ART         You see, I said I'd swear off meta references this time. But it's hard … I just want to dash off the writing and be done with it, but avoiding the meta references …

BART     Just don't do them then.

ART         I already have.

BART     […] You have, haven't you?

ART         And this is just day one. Think what it will be like by day 29.

BART     Never mind day 29. What about Day 2? […]

ART         Ah, funny you should say that. Because the first play has to be all about TWO.

BART     Two. Yes. So that's why you want two elements to the play, rather than three?

ART         Yes, and why we're having a dialogue – just two characters. And I thought the plot could be along the lines of my anxiety about what the theme would be for Day Two.

BART     Or how about anxiety about what you put in scene two of Day One? The denouement?

ART         Hey, you might have hit on something there!

BART     Yea, not bad for a fictional Devil's Advocate who's only there to create a dialogue.

ART         Well, let's face facts: you're not exactly advocating much that's devilish are you? But still, bouncing this around with a fictional interlocutor does have benefits: two heads are better than one!

BART     Or two cooks spoil the broth.

ART         That's too many cooks – two is just fine.

SCENE 2: Later that same day.

BART and ART are soaking in the outdoor onsen, steam rising around them as they look out to an amazing view of snow capped mountains and, faintly in the distance, Mount Fuji

BART     Ah this is the life!

ART         Yes! I've failed to make a denouement and I've failed to avoid a meta text. But I still feel it's going to be a success!

BART     Two wrongs don't make a right!

ART         True, but then two faults do make a play about TWO. In two scenes.

BART     Two-ché!

zoom poem

 

a covid-19 gnash-up

apologies once more to Ogden Nash

SO it seems we're in the midst of an epidemic, or officially a pandemic,

Though the difference is rather academic.

It just means that lots and lots of us are going to get it,

That is, if you haven't already met it.

The symptoms are a dry cough and high fever

You can get both or you can get eiver

And you can also feel woozy and drowsy and weak as well

(Think the worst party ever where you wake up feeling like hell).

But I should make something of an apology

About the terminology:

I've been calling it coronavirus,

This disease of the coughers and perspirers,

But that's just me being a wise guy

Because that's just the name of a group of viri.

And nor is Covid-19 the name of the disease.

That's what you should call the pandemic, please.

Although I think that's less engaging a name – don't you? –

Than Mad Cow Disease or Spanish Flu.

No, the actual virus is SARS-CoV-2:

Who knew?

So now we're all on lockdown, and for some that's not pleasant.

We're all avoiding each other like the plague that's omnipresent.

We're all at home thinking of things to do, drinking endless cups of tea,

Playing games and making crafts and writing poetry.

Let's hope in a few months it's all behind us and the world is once more clean

And we'll hear no more of the dreadful scourge of Covid-19.

lockdown song

Some weeks back we were told

The disease had got a hold

So we all must stay at home it seems all day.

But it really is obscene

What it's done, Covid-19,

And the rules we must adhere to and obey.

I've always suffered bad from claustrophobia

But now I'm forced inside by these microbia.

I've had enough of cooking

And reading all cook books.

I've had enough of looking

At my fast fading looks.

I've cleaned from top to bottom

All the corners and the nooks.

The lockdown is a bloody awful pain.

 

A friend told me it's nicer

To be at home,

But I replied: 'O why, sir?

I'd rather roam!'

I tried my hand at painting

Got splatter dashed with paint;

Tried online entertaining:

I'm good at that? I ain't!

And now I end up fainting:

I'm needing some restraint.

The lockdown is a dreadful, dreadful strain.

For me, I hate this lockdown:

I'm going mad.

These walls I'd rather knock down:

It's rather sad.

I've taken up with knitting –

I ended up with knots.

I spend all day just sitting:

My brain has gone to pot.

I think I'll end up slitting

My wrists because I'm shot:

The lockdown is just driving me insane.

Some day we will be told

The disease has lost its hold

And finally we're free the livelong day.

No more need for moping:

The shops will all be open

And the rules will be torn up and thrown away.

But agony for me will not be over-er,

'Cos by then I will have got agoraphobia.

I'll love my little dwelling –

Its four walls suit me well.

Anxiety they're quelling:

Outside just seems like hell.

There really is no telling

What horrors cast their spell.

The lockdown is just doing in my brain –

And I'll never ever

Not forever

(Lockdown will my brain dissever)

Never ever be the same again!

Because of lockdown –

I'll never ever be the same again!

poem for black friday

Amazing sales! How sweet the sound

Of checkouts is to me.

My cool I’ve lost, but bargains found -

This stuff is almost free!

‘Twas crowds that taught my heart to fear

But now I feel relieved.

(When Visa sees this lot appear

‘Twill never be believed.)

Through many flailing, fighting Sales

I have already come.

And Oxford Street is Hell – with gales.

God help me get it home!

Don’t lay your garments down there, mate;

Some nerd will nab them quick.

This dress in mauve, please – what, you’ve none?

O, don’t it make you sick!

How sweet the name Black Friday sounds

To bargain hunters' ears.

Despite the hordes and major wounds

There’s major savings here.

Shall I be carried to the skies
On flow'ry beds of ease,
While others fight to win the prize?
No way – now gangway, please!

Amazing Sales! At any cost -

To touch, to feel, to grab;

The winter’s dark, but I’m not lost -

New Year I’m in rehab.