Non sequitur (Drillbit 19)

The power drill he got for Christmas filled a hole in his life. He always kept the battery charged, to draw comfort from the green light

English: A look inside a standard, thyristor r...

English: A look inside a standard, thyristor regulated, 500 W drill. (CMI 500E) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Droplets of Verse: ‘It Must Be A Good Film’

It must be a good film
It has a very famous director
It must be a good film
Stars queued up to play the badass detective

It must be a good film
It’s billed as a blockbuster
It must be a good film
There’s a moral message, a search for justice

It must be a good film
Even has a happy ending
It must be a good film
A hot topic on twitter, it’s been trending

It must be a good film
Didn’t take long before tickets sold out
It must be a good film
Already has an Oscar nomination shout

It must be a good film
The scenery is spectacular
It must be a good film
Movie moguls flexed their business acumen

It must be a good film
An audience of millions can’t be wrong
It must be a good film
Packed with action, the storyline is strong

It must be a good film
Contains glamour, girls and guns
It must be a good film
When I watched it, I only fell asleep once

 

An Oscar.

An Oscar. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

 

Droplets of Verse: ‘Touch Screen Roulette’

The pressure is right there, right now
This virtual world, the one you inhabit
Knows you’ve been looking
Fingers running on the keyboard, legs of a rabbit

Unloaded laments, latest news, where someone went
An artistic impression of a carrot flying an aeroplane
The ‘like’ button lingers, a finger stroke of power
Renders you rigid, you have an opinion, but don’t want rain

Roulette

Roulette (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Droplets of Verse: ‘Kozaks Knocked Out In Paris’

I was ready to surrender to the magic
For Ukraine to win a World Cup play-off
Would be like England winning on penalties
A two nil lead from the first leg, could it be enough?

A rainy night in Paris, November 2013, a capacity crowd
France aiming for something never done before
Win a play-off from two goals down
A French exit was expected, could they break down the door?

The teams enter, Kozak shirts of yellow fire
France in blue, hoping for their own blue sky
The Kozaks kick off, but their sabres are not so sharp
France fire their cannons, Ukraine defend their lines

For more than twenty minutes until
Ribery fires a low shot from the edge of the box
Pyatov parries, but a Frenchman arrives to the rebound
One nil to the home team, Kozak defence unlocked

Twelve minutes later, Benzema fires home a second
Ukraine outplayed and over-run, by rampant French cockerels
The tie now level, the next goal will surely seal things
Kozaks search deep inside, swordsmen on foreign soil

At the start of the second half, a Ukrainian defender sees red
Ribery rolls around on the floor, the referee waves the card
The sting is drawn from the blades of Kozak swordsmen
Outnumbered, outmanoeuvred and breathing hard

France take control, probing with elegant flourishes
The Ukrainian rearguard hangs on, desperate defending
A third goal is scored, a Kozak slides, knocks into his own goal
The dream is over, France qualify, Kozak fire extinguished

Lesser Coat of Arms of Ukraine

Lesser Coat of Arms of Ukraine (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Droplets of Verse: ‘A Frozen Pea’

Imagine a large bag of frozen peas with just one pea left inside
That’s the level of your intellect, you can’t even lose your mind
You express an opinion: ‘Fuckin’ shite!’ That’s two thirds of your vocabulary
Only one third left: ‘Twat!’ That’s that, just like Mary, quite contrary

I saw you walking up the hill one evening, making your way back home
It was still early, I wondered whether you were missing your garden gnomes
They must be such good company for you, hanging on your every word
The calm iridescence of the meadow, shattered by your muttered curses

A cigarette in your fingers, regrets the glowing misery of its fate
Its life is short, burning away, onto a pile of fag ends at the garden gate
Your breath infiltrates the air, like the foul stench of mouldy cheese
You talk to the trees, distressing the leaves, as you shoot the breeze

When it comes to taste in music, you’re a conservative reactionary
Anything that doesn’t fit your four piece jigsaw is slightly scary
Your fear is expressed in monosyllables, you’re a ninja of swear words
A small speck, so insignificant, lost in your own tedious universe

Garden gnome with wheelbarrow

Garden gnome with wheelbarrow (Photo credit: Wikipedia)