The latest gadget for mowing my lawn
It works without supervision from the crack of dawn
And when it comes to weed control
There’s no half measures, it does the whole
And it functions on the cheap
But it does tend to distract the sheep
Padre
Margarete is beautiful. She always has been, and that’s saying a lot for a woman born in 1785. In fact she hasn’t aged a bit since the day she was turned by one of Naploeon’s soldiers as they preyed upon the continent. Well old Boney and his armies have gone, but Margarete remains, and now it is she that preys in the night.
Darkly Alluring
Mystically Inviting
Beware her biting
Padre
A true institution of learning lies
Upon the banks of the Cam
Where great minds let ideas fly
Unlike that place on the River Tham
You know the place presumptious
Where the Oxy-Morons they do grow
Dark blueis the hue they do wear
Not the light blue of us in the know
Padre
Jim Adams’ challenge is to “select two songs and discuss some type of relevant association between them.” I have chosen to go with Gordon Lightfoot’s Protocol and Smith and Sinclair’s Again.
Lightfoot’s Protocol is from his 1976 Summertime Dream album which reached at Number 1 in Canada and Number 12 on the US Billboard chart. The sond goes through a list of several catagories of people who make fatal decisions, such as sea captains and generals who seek “mermaid’s tale” or victory all at too great a cost. By following “Protocol” lessons never seem to be learned and the cycle continues.
Lyrics:
Who are these ones who would lead us now
To the sound of a thousand guns
Who’d storm the gates of hell itself
To the tune of a single drum?
Where are the girls of the neighborhood bars
Whose loves were lost at sea
In the hills of France and on German soil
From Saigon to Wounded Knee?
Who come from long lines of soldiers
Whose duty was fulfilled
In the words of a warrior’s will
And protocol
Where are the boys in their coats of blue
Who flew when their eyes were blind?
Was God in town for the Roman games
Was he there when the deals were signed?
Who are the kings in their coats of mail
Who rode by the cross to die?
Did they all go down into worthiness?
Is it wrong for a king to cry?
And who are these ones who would have us now
Whose presence is concealed
Whose nature is revealed
In a time bomb?
Last of all you old sea dogs
Who travel after whale
You’d storm the gates of hell itself
For the taste of a mermaid’s tail
Who come from long lines of skippers
Whose duty was fulfilled
In the words of a warrior’s will
And protocol
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Gordon Lightfoot
Protocol lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc
Again is from Songs For The Betrayed World which reflects on and furthers awareness of the Holocaust. The song is haunting and asks key questions, and like Lightfoot’s song in a list. The song notes that “you said Dachau would never happen again . . . since then Mỹ Lai, since then [the killing fields] Kampuchea, since then ethic cleansing and paralysis.”
I could not find a printed copy of the full lyrics of the song, but a listen will clearly show the parallels with Protocol, and that we never learn from our darkest deeds.
Padre
A
Little
Confusion
Is now widespread
As whether our lives can now go ahead
Experts suggest this thing, and then say that
Interpreting
Double-speak
Straining
Gnats
Padre
Upon a stairway on a shadowy night
I chanced touch the railing making me recoil in fright
As an eerie chill filled my soul
Padre
Weekend Writing Prompt #210 – Eerie in 24 words
See also Upon A Stair from my Gothic Series
A perfectly brewed cup of tea can’t fix everything. Even after those smooth, sweet, creamy sips have calmed your nerves, the underlying misfortune will still be there. Angie found this out when whe went to tell her mum about her break-up with David.
“And I tought we were soulmates,” she sobbed. “All the while he was playing around behind my back.”
“Tisk tisk, Sweetie,” her mother said. “How about me putting the kettle on?” Which of course was the appropriate English response in such situations.
As Mum poured the tea, Angie spilled-out her heart.
Mum listened patiently, and occasionally gave knowing “hmms” or “tisks.”
“How about another?” Mum asked, and puffy-eyed, runny-nosed Angie sniffed and nodded.
This time Mum had brought out some chocolate digestives as well, and they dunked and sipped, as Angie seemed to finally have unloaded all that she was capable of.
“How are you feeling Sweetie?” Mum at last asked.
“Shattered, but a bit better,” Angie said honestly.
“It will take time, Love,” Mum said passing Angie a tissue and the last biscuit.
Angie nodded, and then gave a feeble smile.
A perfectly brewed cup of tea can’t fix everything, but along with a couple of biscuits, it sure does help.
Padre
It was that moment: the culmination of a dream
School was finally over
And it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed
Padre
“No man is an island,”
At least that’s what they say
But an island can be a rock
Or a mound of clay
Standing above the waters’ flow
Not letting the current sway
It will claim its own sovereignty
And in its place will stay
Padre
Falling
Pure energy
In motion decending
Seeking the pathway to the sea
Fated
Padre
#TANKA TUESDAY WEEKLY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 226 #EKPHRASTIC #PHOTOPROMPT
Padre's Ramblings 