Semantics…


Semantics…
Rhetoric the main concern
Doublespeak a favoured term
Weasel words imply and squirm
No clear meaning fixed and firm
Spin and soundbites fill the space
Lies instead of facts in place
Semantics twisted to your face
Politics a pure disgrace…

Fandango’s One Word Challenge: Semantics

Advertisements

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Rib

Scribe me a tribute

Bribe me with ribbons of love

Scribbled by my tribe

Yeah, I know, it doesn’t actually make any sense, but it’s what came into my head when I saw this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt of ‘rib’ – it seems the innner workings of my mind are even weirder than I thought… 🙂


The Sixth Annual Contest of Whatever!

A Tale of Two City Animals…

A squirrel walks into a bar – well it was actually a discarded scaffolding bar some idiot had left propped up awkwardly against a wall, unsecured and off balance. The clumsy squirrel thinks – whatever, I still walked into it! The loosened scaffolding bar clatters unceremoniously to the ground with a resounding clang, hitting a passing scavenging fox on the head on the way down. The freaked-out squirrel takes full advantage of the fox’s obvious disorientation and distress and scarpers up the nearest tree to escape retribution. The poor old fox slinks home in pain muttering to himself and curls up in his den with a bad headache and two eyes even blacker than usual… 🙂

The end.

Created for my first ever entry to Evil Squirrel’s Sixth Annual Contest of Whatever 🙂

Porridge

Dad has porridge for breakfast each day
Made with meal, the traditional way
Boil with water and salt
Stirring smoothly, don't halt
Till it thickens to soft glossy grey... 🙂

Dottled and Thrawn…

Dottled and Thrawn...

A million loving moments fill my head
Remembering my dad from childhood years,
But facing new realities instead
His failing fragile mind prompts blurring tears.

As vascular dementia takes its toll
Forgetful blank confusion plays cruel tricks,
Bewildered absence taunts his stubborn soul
And thrawn and dottled's not an easy mix!

Each tiny blockage works to undermine 
The crumbling bedrock of his memory,
His world's diminished, harder to define
Frustrating future beckons senselessly...

And once the day has come when no "Dad"s left
We'll simply go on loving, quite bereft...

PS For the non-Scots speakers of you out there, “Dottled” means in a state of dotage and “Thrawn” means stubborn… 🙂

The Devil’s in the Detail

So there I was at the top of the hill, sitting in the shade under the big old oak tree reading a book. It was one of those hot summer days that drains all the energy right out of you. I’d finished my chores – had got up early to be sure to get everything done before the sun rose too high in the sky – and was looking forward to enjoying some well-earned down-time.

But no sooner had I settled down to read than a devil appeared in front of me, buzzing around distractingly like an irritating fly. ‘Look at you’ it mocked disparagingly, ‘ lazing around doing nothing, you know you should be more productive’. Annoyed, I swatted it with my book and carried on. Then from behind my shoulder I heard another devil skulking around, whispering seductively. ‘Remember the devil makes work for idle hands’ it wheedled gleefully, waiting for my guilt to kick in as usual.

But not this time, enough is enough. So I whacked the devil dismissively with my book. ‘Bollocks to that’ I said, ‘For your information I’m not doing nothing, I’m busy reading and relaxing. Now fuck off and leave me alone.’ And in an unpleasant puff of reluctant acceptance, suddenly they were gone, with any luck banished forever…

Kira’s Sunday Scribbles