The pronoun I use for me is “me”
It’s up to thou whether you’re a “they” or “thee”
Thou may call me whatever you may
Or just skip pronouns and call me Ray
Padre
Pronoun
society
Northern Salad
Upon the pavement
Tomato decorated
Along with a sprig
Of salad leaf – the remains
Of midnight’s drunken kebab
Padre
There is a bit of a stereotype that there are no salads north of the River Trent, or if they do exist they are found on the pavement next to the nearest kebab stand.
Chaotic/Despotic
Chaotic
Unruly
Disorganised
Decentralised
Organised
Managed
Ruled
Despotic
Padre
Faction
It was with dissatisfaction
That the losing faction
Started packing up their things to go
Their discontent became a rage
That to the whole world they did show
Calmer minds and tempers now
Let us hope are in control
Padre
Weekend Writing Prompt #193 – Faction in 39 words
Woven
Bamboo slats, or lakeside reeds
Mere grass is all the craftsman needs
And a thing of function and beauty too
Soon takes form as his hands move
We too alone may not amount to much
But in our interactions, lives we touch
We are interwoven within society
Becoming more together than just “you” and “me”
Padre
Crucible
Eight score years ago
Capital dome – like the nation incomplete
Lincoln stood upon the stairs
Reconciliation he did seek
“The bonds of affection,” he said, were suffering strain
But that those bonds of friendship should yet remain
Four years later
The dome now complete
He called for there to be no malice
To rebuild – no conflict to repeat
Today we see that white doomed bastion
Of liberty in receipt
Of scenes of bitter hatred
Enough to make one weep
These are times of testing
A crucible of pain
Let us heed old Abraham’s words
So peace and democracy – can remain
Padre
Weekend Writing Prompt #191 – Crucible in 100 words
Democracy
Seemingly past its prime, its steps well worn
Giving the appearance sad – forlorn
But democracy’s not dead – not quite yet
Though its recent path has left some regret
But we who believe in higher things
Trust in a public voice
Above tyrants or kings
So while its been battered
And some questioned its repute
The will of the people
Shall not be mute
Padre
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Jim Adams challenged us to write about a song that has a title beginning with a P or G. Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road does just that. It is the title track to his 1973 album. Rolling Stone lists the song at #390 of the 500 best ever songs.
The imagery includes references which link to the film The Wizard of Oz with the yellow brick road, and a return to the plough (Kansas). It has deeper meaning in comparing “high society” life and expectations with the simplicity of life.
Lyrics:
When are you gonna come down?
When are you going to land?
I should have stayed on the farm
I should have listened to my old man
You know you can’t hold me forever
I didn’t sign up with you
I’m not a present for your friends to open
This boy’s too young to be singing
The blues, ah, ah
So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can’t plant me in your penthouse
I’m going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh, I’ve finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road
Ah, ah
What do you think you’ll do then?
I bet they’ll shoot down the plane
It’ll take you a couple of vodka and tonics
To set you on your feet again
Maybe you’ll get a replacement
There’s plenty like me to be found
Mongrels who ain’t got a penny
Sniffing for tidbits like you
On the ground, ah, ah
So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can’t plant me in your penthouse
I’m going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh, I’ve finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road
Ah, ah
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Bernie Taupin / Elton John
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Padre
Marginal
The seat was marginal
Could go either way
So social media
Came into play
When votes were counted
T’was hard to believe
That the incumbent
Still had tricks up his sleeve
Padre
Weekend Writing Prompt #190 – Marginal in 31 words
Life On Display
It was no Truman Show. It wasn’t even Big Brother. It was humanity on display. Tower block over looking tower block and all the life that took place through open curtains or closed drapes. Did they know their domestic existence was on display to be observed or even documented by whoever may?
Well such thoughts and concerns were always in the forefront of Cindy Andrew’s mind. Her mirror-tinted window film, and plug in sound-proofing made sure she wasn’t caught going about her daily routine of recording her neighbours.
Padre
