The Roman god Janus had two heads, two faces. They are usually depicted as looking in opposite directions.
And the UK has a Gaffe man and a lying Toad for Prime Minister. He says, “Call me Boris” but perhaps “Call me Janus” would ring a little truer. Furthermore, and all too often, those two heads are not only turned in… continue reading
Let’s Hear it from Janus on the Union
What a Funny Time to say Goodbye to the Chaos Maistro
So now, suddenly, it’s off with his head, the maestro, that shiny hate-filled spear-head of Brexit. He conducted his own removals, exiting through the front door of course, in full view of the cameras, delivering insult to the last. Not so long ago, a raucous parrot I know, a “bird of paradise” who insists on the liberty to speak, had… continue reading
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… Words for an Earthquake
The United Kingdom has left the EU. We have vacated our seat at the high table and it is laid now for just 27 places. We’ve “got it done.”
Or “gone and done it.”
In recognition of the significance of this momentous step we’ve taken, whatever it may mean, I am uploading here a selection of 53 stand-alone short rhyming… continue reading
What does Great Britain Stand for, these Days ?
What do we Brits stand for, these days, now that we have “taken back control” ?
Judging by our government’s grossly inadequate management of Corvid-19 – we stand for incompetence, incoherence and dishonesty.
Judging by Mr Johnson’s recent conduct over the Brexit negotiations – we are represented by the fatuous and delusional bravado of a juvenile hoodlum ; and again… continue reading
Gaffe Man Spans the Globe
Congratulations to Jacinda Ardern for winning her landslide victory in New Zealand’s recent general election. And for her earlier, highly competent management of the Covid-19 virus there, in such dramatic contrast to Mr Johnson’s pathetic and disastrous flounderings here in the UK, half a world away (“alas, alas”). Here is the message our hopeless Mr (“call me Boris”) Johnson sent… continue reading
My Way to You
I keep coming upon this poem in its folder, its digital “archive,” and it’s as if I’ve tripped up on it. It somehow sticks out, sitting meekly under “M” in its alphabetical order. But where really does it belong ? I never quite know what to make of it and yet I think it is possibly a poem I would… continue reading