Limerick – Dreams

Beware of living your dreams
It isn’t quite what it seems…
When you’re struggling to run
From a currant bun
And flying custard creams!


For an insight into my dreams – a couple of days ago, my wife woke me, and the first thing I said was, “why don’t more sausages have cheese in them?”…



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Written for:

Batman v Superman: Partners in Rhyme

I wrote this a while back, but it seemed to make sense to dust it off now…

I’m a super-fan of Superman
But I need some answers please.
Flying around is all very well,
But where does he keep his keys?

– I’m also batty about the Batman,
– And he’s sussed the answer to that:
– Keeping his keys upon his belt,
– In a pouch (predictably) shaped like a bat

Saving the world is fine and dandy,
But what’s with Supey’s underpants?
Bright and red and on display,
Does he think it’s the fashion, by chance?

– By contrast, Bats takes a classic approach,
– And always dresses in black.
– It’s far more practical for working nights;
– He’s hidden ‘til POW!-THWACK!!

How does Superman prioritise?
He’s too many problems for one.
He can’t save everyone all of the time.
Can he ever have any fun?

– At least the Batster knows his limits,
– Focusing on Gotham town.
– Setting his sights on their crime lords,
– Determined to bring them all down.

And does Supe think that we’re too stupid,
To see through his Clark Kent disguise?
All he does is add some specs,
It’s clear to everyone’s eyes!

– Bruce Wayne makes more of an effort,
– Covering all except that chin.
– Cloaking his body in armour,
– Hiding the human within.

So I’m becoming less enamoured
With this fussy and flawed “super” man.
His costume’s frankly impractical,
Though he’s come far from where he began.

– Batty, though, has the gadgets and tricks,
– That are so much cooler than powers.
– And he prefers to party hardy
– Than moralise for hours.

So, in the end, I’m a “Bat” man
He’ll never let me down.
He’ll always be my favourite…
‘til Wonder Woman swings into town!



Limerick – Nerds Unite!

I wrote this in reply to Dr Meg’s trekkie haiku (check it out –… thought I’d share it on here! 🙂

There’s a power of which I’ve heard,
Some dismiss as simply absurd.
They take them for granted,
Taking advantage,
But there’s power in being a NERD!



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This also fits with the weekly limerick challenge prompt of “power” –

The Two-Minute Manager – 4

Another dose of management and leadership advice from the somewhat cynical mind of guest blogger, See Yi-Oh… You only have yourselves to blame if you follow this advice!

Attending Operational Meetings

Show your importance
To the lessers in the room:
Head down and email

Gift them your presence
But deny them eye contact.
Who knows where that leads?


Are you strategic?
There’s always scope to up-think.
Be more strategic.

Any report that’s
Longer than a page in length,
Isn’t for your eyes.

The true strategic
Does not think in words, numbers:
Start to think in shapes.



The Jobs Fair

Another set of lyrics for what could be an autobiographical C&W song… Hope you enjoy!

Went down to the jobs fair
To find myself a job
Went down to the jobs fair
’cause I’m no lazy slob

The lady at the jobs fair
Asked me about my skills
That lady at the job fair
Asked what gives me thrills

I said to the job fair lady
“Well, I like writing rhymes
It may not seem like much to you
But it passes all my time”

Well, the lady at the job fair
She pushed a little more
“I know you’re outta work now,
But what’d you do before?”

And I stood there at the job fair
And I described it thus:
“Every day I stood up
To get knocked down by a bus

And as I lay there bleeding
The crows would peck my eyes
And the foxes there would feast on
A tender soul surprise”

Now maybe that’s a stretch,
But that’s just the way I felt
Working for the big man
Play-ing the hand I’m dealt

There’s gotta be a better way
To live an honest life
I just wanna feed my family
My two boys and my wife

So I said to the job fair lady,
“Can’t I write for cash?
My family’s needs are simple.
Nothing all that flash.”

Well, the lady at the job fair,
She laughed right in my face.
“Poems sell for pennies!
You gotta get back in the race”

Well, if poems sell for pennies,
Then I’ll just write some more
Yes, if my poems sell for pennies
I’ll write a whole bunch more



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Monday Musing… The Worst Day…

Everyone has a bad day from time to time. Maybe not “attacked-by-a-bear-then-left-to-die-in-the-woods” bad, but everyday bad. Even those we see as being particularly blessed will have a shocker now and again. Bill Gates will get his wang caught in his fly. Dave Grohl (“nicest man in rock”) will accidentally drop a “c-bomb” in front of his mum at a family dinner. David Beckham will get completely ignored in public, while his son gets spotted and subjected to trial by selfie. Donald Trump will accidentally put the hamster on his head, while his wig is being cleaned…

Yeah, I’m keeping this build-up light. Last Thursday was a shocker for me. And that saying about things coming in threes? Yep, that too.

Thursday morning, out of the blue, I got told at work I’m going to be made redundant. In the afternoon, a serious health scare for someone very close to me, that will need surgery.

These are both major shocks to the system, but it was the one that happened in between that made me break down and cry like a baby.

I saw my cat die.

While getting changed out of my work clothes, brain whizzing about with what I’m going to do next, how we’re going to pay the mortgage/ feed the kids/ get through this one, I watched my cat die on the bed, right next to me.

With no warning, she lay her head on its side, and just curled up like a leaf closing, pulling in on herself. The air slowly leaving her body. A balloon silently deflating.

I patted her and stroked her, saying her name over and over, but there was no reaction. I patted her a bit more urgently. Nothing.

Her heart wasn’t beating.

Her lungs weren’t working.


I started blubbing like a baby, sobbing her name.

Maybe ten seconds later, she lifted her head up and let out a couple of angry mews (pain?).

I went to stroke her, but she ran off and hid downstairs. She was a bit skittish for the rest of the day, but otherwise acted the same as normal. A bit mental, a bit stand-offish, very demanding about food. You know, like a normal cat.

I know my cat, and I know how she reacts to things. I am absolutely certain that she died. And yet here she is now, nuzzling around my feet, acting within her normal parameters of strangeness.

Maybe her throat closed or something. I don’t know. Do cats suffer from anaphylactic shock?

So with those big three things happening on the same day, the one that made me really cry, and is making me well up recalling it, was my cat dying. For a bit.

Go figure.


My cat. Definitely just napping this time.