Grammatical batticle

Proper nouns are prim and pristine
They belong to long ago
Shackled to conjunctions, listing
What it is we need to know
Factual they take position
‘Pon the Field of Cloth of Gold
Kneel to hear their King’s ambition
Clutching reins, unsheathing sword
Then look upon their enemy
That vaguest General of old
Whose lines and lines of men we see
As nameless, shivering and cold
Exploits edited by victors
Those who fought and those who fell
Posterity’s unnoticed victims
History that none can tell
I tot them up, these dated figures
Sow their sounds deep in my head
In hope they’ll stay there though the rigors:
Algebra and baking bread
Latin may decline declensions
Greek is up against the wall
But even now, some nouns’ intentions
Hold my mind from days at school

The Music of Words

Gently lash me with your tongue
I will not try to speak
To interrupt the flow of one
Whose tempers fray the week
The sea that breaks upon my ears
Is washing you away
The fading sounds that fuel these tears
Are quieter today
Your practised script, articulate
I heeded as a child
When sounds that issued from your throat
Wrought protestations mild
Now older I’ve more strength to voice
Harsh thoughts that must be said
I understand that I’ve a choice
Of silence; but instead
With fingers jammed in ears I bellow
Drowning out your boom
These tones of sturm und drang that echo
Round the living room

Can’t you hear the melody?

Taste the words to hear it play
They’ll teach you how to hum
Feel the sound that waves its way
To ears from tip of tongue
Balance rhythm on your nib
And flick the blues away
Scrawling rhyme to rock the crib
With beats that pulse and sway
Baby in her daddy’s arms
Can only coo and squeal
Taking in all worldly forms
She’s learning fast by feel
We watch her tiny fingers, toes
Exploring as we speak
And note her mastery that grows
Progressing with each week
Accelerate articulation
Let her tell us soon
What kick-starts mad coordination
Of her stars and moon

Loop-de-wholesale

Made in the land of make-believe
Where lawyers play ‘who’d you believe?’
And corporations patent hints
Before they’ve read the finer print
Safety testing doesn’t sell
As competitive ne’er do wells
Are underestimating time
To roll their products off the line
So what’s to do when local law
Prohibits what has gone before?
But legislate your private loop
To keep them jumping through the hoop
‘Domestic’ laws will not apply
While we want foreign states to buy
Substandard, globocentric tat
‘Til ecosystem must fall flat
So here’s to Canada’s defeat
This business model works a treat
We’ll make our fortune and then some
Just looking out for number one

Peace

We buried the hatchet
At ten years’ d├ętente
Each knowing the other
Has nothing they want
For friendship of sorts
We rekindled our flame
No longer so taut
That we flinch at a name
Though lovers we were
Now a decade has passed
Since the ending turned sour
All that lies in the past
For the first time in years
I just spoke to a mate
Unreserved, without tears
It was not yet too late