Me & Me

Red hair with some blonde highlights,
a gift from God, you see.                                                                                      
Though he didn't throw away the mould,
he made another 'me'.

Identical in every way,
from height, to weight, to features.
A criss-cross of my own damn self,
fooled friends and foes and teachers.

We have a waddled walk, they say,
a cackling laugh to boot.
There's a strange breeze when we leave a room,
unitedly astute.

Our telepathic stories
can leave jaws a drooping down.
Although 500 miles away -
I know when she's in town!

Our soppy hearts are similar,
we cry at weepy stories.
And reminisce through albums,
telling tales of our joint glories.

We've felt each others' sadness,
but no sharing aches and pains.
Deliberating right from wrong?
I'm on my side again!

It has been rather useful though,
this chance to intermix.
One present sent from both of us,
two back - yeah, that's the trick!

But..............

Don't let this twin thing fool you,
though she has my DNA.
We're chalk and cheesy mostly,
not all roads display 'One Way'.

Her taste in men is awful,
and her music choice is chronic.
My cat's fluffy and fragile,
her dog's borderline demonic.

She'll choose the hottest spice to try,
no water standing by.
Whereas just a hint of onion,
makes me cry and cry and cry.

She'll bake in her back garden,
'til she turns to lobster red.
While just a ruddy chink of light,
makes me want to stay in bed.

A smoker since her school days,
yet, I've never had a puff
(though I've had a sneaky inhale
of that marijuana stuff!)

And her love for wine astounds me,
not a country she's not tried.
If a grape needed direction,
she would make the perfect guide!

Don't start me on the tattoos,
needless, forever-inky scars.
That her bygone masterpiece just
looks like bruises from afar....

Her craft is model icing,
literally on the cake.
For celebrations catering,
all walks of life she makes.

Me? I'm at my best when,
slapping paint upon a wall.
Mural of some kiddies' hero,
or giant logos of football!

I could go on here forever,
splitting replica's apart.
She'll always be my twin sis
the same beating of one heart.

We share love and we share laughter
Go through Hell if she did too.
Protected though, forever.
Could you love another 'you'?.

                                                                

  Penned for Poets Rally Week 47, and dedicated to my twin sister (right).....ps....my hair has been cut and styled to match hers now!

Sunday Snippet (31)

I'm not one to scoff at other peoples beliefs, but if Buddhists are supposed to live their lives without want and greed and all that, how come Buddha's such a chubby (but very likable!) little bloke? 

Go on, mate - fill your boots. I promise I won't tell as long as you leave me the gherkin....!!

Get To 'F'

This week's F-ing find:  Flexible Friends......

 

Café Au Too Late

**Since this poem is a little confusing, well the format anyhow, to some, I'll try to explain the concept of it.   It's actually about the same woman who has flashbacks to her youth, where she was bullied.  The regular font speaks of her meantime circumstances, whereas the italics speak of her childhood misery. And, of course, the scene is set in a burger-bar & cafe. Hope this helps...!**


Whipping downwards, I watched, the cream in the coffee, swirling and stirring around
I never looked over at the table next to me, not a singular whisper or sound

I did love you so much in all kinds of manners, of course I accepted your choice
A girl knocked her drink, felt the splashes on my cheek, she yelped with a lash to her voice

Complications in living, a struggle to manage, we were happy to face them as one
A squirt shot from the sachet, a barbeque sauce stain, and reason for them to poke fun

You told me we'd go on complete in our unity,  always - and then your heart froze
The boy let out laughter and threw a straw at me, I suppose that's the way that it goes

Can it be that I'm loveless, a patch not quite able, to mend as the tear rips along
Pushed my back as I walked to the toilets to wash up, I'd be welling up here before long

Empty rooms and our savings, divided belongings, bin bags that carry a tale
Head hanging down, hair that covered my red face, sighing hard to no avail

Making waves and emotions, back to the mentions of singular guidances now
Far too scared to tell tales to the teachers or mothers, just continue to mop my own brow

Leaning over my coffee pot, I saw her crying, the jibers now running away
Sidled along, let the girl sit next to me, for we knew where our own heartaches lay
      ************************************************************************
So, what's here then....?

New Casino Tracks - Go Grab A Beer (or wine) For A Listen....!

Now, as we all know, I never bang on about my sons' bands!  But I thought I'd give one of them a right good Blogger flogging! Finally, Casino's new tracks are up for a public hearing offence - for being so damned good. It's outrageous!!! All spruced up in Facebook with new pictures (including the album covers) and general run down of Casino world.

 The link below will take you to 6 of their recorded tracks (many, many more to come). And if you think you're too old to listen to whippersnapper stuff, try a micro-listen to Starlight, Lynette, Waiting Up and The High. And if you recommend a friend to join the Facebook fanatics - there's a free WHAM bar in it for you. Yes,.......I've got your attention now, eh?  All video's to the songs will be found on the sidebar of both my blogs or by written request.

You can buy individual tracks or wait for release of the album, but don't miss out a listen for now. Here's the link below and all I ask is for a marked visit to their page or join the fan base there. 4000 Facebook fans (so far) can't all be wrong, can they...?

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Casino/124252040948745?sk=app_178091127385
  

My Girl

Reflecting on your birthday, how you popped into the world.
My one and only daughter, firstborn, little baby girl.
I recall that very morning, as the niggles started up
Held my breath, bit my lip, stared into my coffee cup

Uh-oh! The planned arrival's curiously making waves.
It only cramps a little bit, I must try to be brave.
Soon your dad came to Maternity, a smile upon his face
A floppy rose in one hand, and a watch to set the pace.

Looking quite uncomfortable, from sit, to stand, to sit
I didn't like the set up, not one single bloody bit!
He asked how I was doing and I lashed out with my tongue
For it felt I had an open brolly sticking up my bum!

You weren't too concerned about making your appearance
And all I wanted here and now was full-blown baby clearance!
Deliver us from pain and things, it was beyond a joke
Not even sweat stained lullaby's were able to evoke!

I huffed and puffed and panted, swore and knocked some flowers down
Prayed to God: '...just kill me now...', while in my labour gown.
You still maintained a lie-in, in no hurry to appear
While I told your dad he's 'in for it, when we get out of here!'

They offered pain relief for me, I took it and was grateful
But that just slowed the process down, how could they be so hateful!
Then  'crack ' you burst your bubble, water gushing all about
I felt worse than central reservoir, depleted and washed-out!

Now, I felt you coming, waves of chronic, gripping stuff!
Dilating me to number 10 - when 4 was bad enough!
But, yes, indeed, still here was I , the mid-wife quite confounded
I'd said good-night-and-morning twice, akimbo and abounded....

This baby was the champion, a sac of pure control
There would be no Miss-taking,  Little Miss's  future role!
So, where that strength was mustered, Heaven knows from where it came
I purged so hard, I soon saw stars and lighter I became.

You were swabbed and robed and measured, checked out quickly by the nurse
Who handed me sweet little 'you' and forgave my need to curse!
Twenty-seven long hard hours, it took you to comply
I kissed your bloodied forehead and the pain just waved goodbye.

But from the moment I first saw you -  what a rush of pinking air.
A girl when they all said 'a boy',  you made your mark from there!
A chubby little face you had and fingers long and thin
A heart that beat so very fast, a precious stone within.

The beginning of a story,  chapters that just captivate
I don't believe in magic, just the power to create.
My perfect little baba, my funny, funny girl
An addition and a honour to this huge revolving world!

Get It Right Up Ye.........!

Plastic Elastic 




I was surfing through cable guff last night and came across a programme on beauty and vanity ect.   One  subject of the show was 48 year-old Mariam, whom had spent more than £20,000 on lifts and tucks over the years. There was a HUGE difference, she was wrinkle free and taut but cocked up the whole effect by still sporting an eighties bubble perm and last decade clothes.  Now she was no more than a younger looking obvious old dear. For £20,000 I'd have wanted to be asked what year at high school I was in!!

But the political overview alerted that more money was spent on boob jobs and viagra per year than on research into Altzheimers disease - a condition the programme picked at random to compare, I hope. Otherwise there's a chance by 2045 that the elderly will mostly have perky tits and stiff todgers but no fucking idea why!

ps.....I'll stick to my dedicated and timely twice a day rinse with Dove soap and be happy to one day fling my boob over my shoulder while I scour away with a buffer!

Music Matters!

Only a few here will know who Bernard Butler is, but this is a beautiful little message to music fans in general out there. You'll know all the influences, however!

Sunday Snippet (30)

 I burned my hand recently and the first reaction was to get it as cold as possible, so used the old method of cold water, which soothed and worked a treat. Then it lead to me thinking that that's rather unfair. I mean - why can't you put something blunt on a cut, or straight salt on a sore tooth...? Seems mother nature's not all she's cracked up to be!

When The Morning Comes ( The Boy )

The boy's off the rails again, he's gone and lost himself
He'll try to find his way back home, but he doesn't want your help.
'Don't waste your words on me', the boy says in his way
The girl behind him starts to cry, but he doesn't shift his gaze.

Where has he been?
What has he done?
Is all forgotten when the morning comes.

His senses start to burn, his friends become his foes.
He'll be your friend again in time, it's just the way it goes.
It's all just bravado, the boy's a drama queen,
You know he's just like you and me, he likes to cause a scene.

But where has he been?
What has he done?
Is all forgotten when the morning comes. 

It's then seeped into his mind, he tries to understand.
Before you take the leap of faith, you let go of a hand hand.
The world's just one big sigh, inhaled and blown away
Surface only to correct, the value of his day.


Where have you been?
What have you done?
Can you forgive him, when the morning comes?

Listen up!?  Fancy listening to it...?


http://tigerlilley.blogspot.com/2011/05/when-morning-comes.html 

Get To 'F'

This weeks' F-ing find......Feigning Flowers:

Release Of The Boy

It's here at last. The 4th video from Casino (you know, the band that every other band fucking hates) made to accompany their new, tender melody. For newer readers, Casino is the band my son is the drummer of.

This time, however, as this song is mostly acoustic, he all but shakes a wee sole egg-maraca throughout.  Which was an extremely hard thing to maintain, as with most drummers it is paramount to do a hairy and give a manic rendition, similar to the flailing of Animal from the Muppets, before the start of every song.

In the video, the Wurlitzer that the lead singer and Jack-of-all-fingers (keyboard, guitar, tambo, flute, kazoo - you name it he plays it) is plunking, is one of only 10,000 left in the world, so that little bit of history is captured nicely. In a beautiful song that is easy on the ear and age-gap friendly.

Formatting of the film is created for an oldish feel about it, oh, and look out for a fleeting appearance from George Harrison on Ouija board.  It's amazing what appears under correct lighting these days. And, in true Casino style, they dedicate a tribute of a daft fleeting 'sneer' the lead guitarist made at the end, only he don't know that yet!  What use is music if it can't be fun? Enjoy.

Sunday Snippet (29)

Scientists claim that spider's silk is one of the strongest materials known to man. So how come I've just popped a hole straight through one of their webs, and I'm not even that hard....??


Incy Wincy Creme Puff

Get To 'F'

Every Friday I go on a cyber hunt to find a picture that fits under the letter  'F' catagory, so today is Food Flattery.  How a celebrity might look, going from one extreme to the other. Always in the public eye is Ms. Hilton. I think she lost the grasp of her Best Friends Forever show as she was looking for a new one every year.! Tuck in, Paris. I'll give you ten minutes before you go running off to the bogs.........

Housewife's Xanadu

 



















No rules that obligate us
No missions we can't solve
Stationary roads ahead
Let sun and moon revolve

What happens to us, happens
Give it our biggest shot
Raining down on reigning us
More pennies in the slot

So what if skies are heavy
Accepting the sublime
We'll reason, judge, appreciate
While journeying our minds

Sunday Snippet (28)

Yesterday I watched a man putting a plastic bag of dog shit in a bin attached to a lamp post. A sign on the bin read:  'Advertise Your Business Here' .  Well, I for one cannot think of a trade or company that could possibly benefit from an association with bins of dog shit on lamp posts. Hmmmmm....

The Royal Weeding

I didn't spend any time at all watching the Royal Wedding. What a long boring ceremony. I think those who were willing enough to endure echoed mumbles for hours on end, were more interested on the invitees and outfits.  Anyhow, as previously planned, I spent the time weeding the drive instead. After I'd finished I decided to nip down to the local shops for some root killer, only to find that shops were ruddy well closed on public holiday!   Grrrrr!                          Long may the next royal engagement last!!

Time To Flow Home

My twin sister, as well as my best friend, are going through the menopause right now. In a sense I'm lucky, as a rushed hysterectomy took away all my womany bits when I was 29 and I can tell you now - I haven't once missed my womb.  For almost 20 years now,  I've not needed a pillow-sized-gusset panty pad to see me through the day / next hour and it's been a pleasure.  Anyhow - we were on the subject of menstruation and mood swings.

She told me about this gay couple (one was her bridesmaid) who synchronised their menstrual cycles so they'd cope with the shit-side of monthlies together. They were going through crockery like a Greek wedding serving Angel Dust kebabs before, not to mention dents in the wall and broken CD's!  Now, trying to convince a doctor that a lesbian and her girlfriend want to go on the contraceptive pill is trying enough, but it took 3 GP opinions for this request to be backed. WTF..?

I'm lucky, I found suitable HRT  (after a few months). I can tell you now, it is not a pleasant sight to watch a friend or relative take hot, violent flushes out of the blue and turn into psycho in under a minute, especially if in the next minute they're accompanied by an urgent parting of the red sea. Bloody shame, if you ask me...!