h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Life’s like a windmill, it goes round and round
Repeating its actions over and over
Little direction as it revolves on one spot
No dreams or aims to be had
Happy to rotate in the day’s breeze
Pleased to fulfil its work for the day
Rest later and watch the world go by
With no ambitions to worry about
Nothing memorable, just daily grind
Life’s like a windmill, for some poor soles
But each contributes in their own way
May the breeze continue to blow gently
And they feel the warmth of the sun throughout the day


mine

subject: stairs

Stairs

One of the enigmas of Yemen is,
That the masons reign supreme,
Yet they cannot build normal stairs,
I’ll tell you what I mean.

All spiral stairs go clockwise,
And all are in pitch dark,
Not a single window lights them,
So climbing them’s no lark.

Then every tread and riser,
Is of a different size,
So if you fall flat on your face,
It’s hardly a surprise.

But with all their other stonework,
The standards are so high,
So why are stairs so different?
Please – can you tell me why?

Next: Insanity

MAD SONG

My mother left when I was seven
She tramped all the stolid way to heaven
Her sandwiches in her bag
With the only change of clothes she had

Father went stark clear mad and ran
A frightened and a lonely man
Back to his mother’s, carrying me
- Life has not been easy.

Life has never been the same
I never felt like playing games
With children living by:
I’ve always sort of wanted to die

And so I sit and cry
At nothing sometimes, wondering why
My mother left when I was seven
Tramping the high, rocky road to heaven.

(orig.)

next: the secret

The Secret

(off the top of me 'ead)

“The thing is this,”
The agéd sage intoned,
“There are two secrets too complete success,
Tell me which one you think is the best.
The first one’s really simple,
At least, I think it so
Whatever the temptation,
Don’t tell anyone all that you know.”




next: Serenity

Serene and true was Henry Blue
With his pipe and slippers, his TV too,
His favourites on the radio
And his wife two feet under the patio.


Next: Stars

The joke isn't original - the poem is.

Stars

Sherlock Holmes and Watson were on Dartmoor for a hike.
As darkness fell, they pitched their tent and settled for the night.
A few hours later, Holmes awoke and roused his faithful friend.
"Watson - look up at the sky - what do you comprehend?"

Dr. Watson answered slowly as he gazed up towards Mars,
"I see God’s holy firmament, the planets and the stars."
"Exactly,” said stern Sherlock, “What from this can you derive?"
The doctor pondered pensively, then gave his firm reply:

"Astronomically, the galaxies are up there by the million,
And thus potentially, there maybe planets by the billion.
Astrologically, it seems to say that Saturn is in Leo.
Horogically, it tells me that it’s nearly half past two.

Theologically, it's evident that God is omnipotent,
And we, but infinitely small and insignificant.
Meteorologically, it looks as though tomorrow will be fine,
So tell me Holmes - am I correct – just what do you divine?"

Holmes seethed in brooding silence at his friend’s deductive power,
To make such observations, and at such ungodly hour,
Then with sardonic smile, to his feelings he gave vent,
"Watson, you raving idiot someone’s nicked the bloody tent."

next: stupidity

Stupidity

I had a poem chosen for this most exciting thread.
I had the whole thing memorized by heart (if not by head.)
But now I cannot tell it, many brain cells since have died.
So this will have to do (oh, I am feeling mortified).

Next topic: of cabbages and kings

Of Cabbages and Kings

Cabbages and kings and whether pig have wings,
Or why the sea is boiling hot, and many other things,
Are lines of utter nonsense, by the master of the art,
And to every child they’re read to, they’re ingrained upon the heart.

But are they really nonsense, why do they so inspire?
And make young children wonder, and from thence a love acquire.
A love of words of wisdom, using words to make a point,
With irony and homour, words that will not disappoint

next: global warming

I had a little glow ball
It made me very warm.
I bounced it up against a wall,
It cooked up quite a storm.

A bully tried to steal my ball.
I shoved it down his pants.
He crossed his legs and stood quite tall.
Hah! You should have seen him dance!

KL

Next...The Hornpipe.

With a Yo ho ho! and a tee hee hee!
I tried to dance the hornpipe
And fell into the sea
I can not swim a stroke, with land so far away
To deep to paddle and wade ashore
What is to become of me?
That starts to make me think?
On the next thing I can do
Until below I see chest
Might treasure be within?
I’ll have to drag it to the beach
And live the lifestyle of a king
Nope! Sorry! Just drowned

mine:


subject: seven

Seven devils sit on my shoulders.
One to make me think,
One to stop me thinking.
One to make me drink,
One to stop me drinking.
One to whisper evil,
Another drives me to the Devil,
The last one gives me constant shudders.

Next: grass

Grass

Sit on the grass under the tree
Hopefully you’ll think of me
I will always think of you
Maybe – one day I’ll be there to
You’ll always be there in my mind
Not a single thought of you’s unkind.

But had I penned the first line,
The other way round, of course,
‘Sit under the tree and on the grass’
I’d have written something coarse.

Next: Sorrow

Alas, alas, a lady I know
Killed a man yesterday, sorrow and woe.
She in her car, and he on the street,
Right on the crosswalk; a bad way to meet.

Witnesses took down her license plate number.
She left the scene (she could not have been dumber).
Sing a sad song for this awful event.
Treasure each minute, and every moment.

Next topic: Termite infestations in Christmas trees.

Termite infestations in Christmas trees
Always tend to make me sneeze
That's why I feel so lucky
That they live in countries far from me
In little wooden sheds
With little wooden walls and little wooden beds
Clad in whites just like they're preparing for cricket
A clunk! Applause! There goes another wicket
Or is it true
That really the stumps were chomped right through?

Next: game

I'm game!


subject still Game

The game of life, something to win or lose
Played from the start, the ending can’t choose
How it’s played out, there are no rules
Genius contestants, there’s also fools
The world is the game board, markers and all
Pitfalls abound, to get over or to fall
Played each second, minute, hour, each day
No breaks in this game, once started you stay
This verse has no ending, the game has begun
Can only add lines,watching the game run

mine

subject: stimuli

- then the poem was really nice

Jab

Ouch! Somebody stimuli'd me.
Could it be that femme beside me?
Nah! Too old for things like that.
More like to be stimmed by the cat.
But there you go! Life has its joys,
Even for us sagging, wrinkled old boys.


KL.

Next...Devil days.

I don't want Lew's ballad
To fade away on its own
So while he eats the leftovers from his Christmas salad
I'll add a short poem.

I'm s'posed to write about DEVIL DAYS.
Devils can annoy you in so many ways
They can pinch and they can sting
and they can lie
Til you'd give up everything for that woman's eyes
Smiling tenderly at you

When the poor girl's only sneezing (atchoo, atchoo!)
And preparing for an interview
For w*rk,
hoping she won't meet many jerks like you!*

You can go around in a dream
Like a complete fool
Seeing pure cream
In a cold, black pool,
Watching the sunset
In a swimming pool

So if you get up and hit your head
Or you imagine everything's going your way
It may, for God's sake,
Be a DEVIL DAY
- go back to bed.

Don't make it worse by trying
To use your head. Wait for your guardian angel
(Overworked down south) to get there instead.




* Not Lew, anyone - especially me - Jab

Next: The bugle

Fraid it wasn't as short
As I thought
I must have got lost, blowing the bugle
I just bought

Next: Free go: Any subject