Foxy Mudllark Paperclip - Reflections on Celebrity Names

Is being a celebrity a reason to choose
A name for their offspring that no one would use?
Their poor little kids bear the brunt of the shame
While the ridiculous parents are totally to blame.

Would you call your girl North, if your surname was West?
Is Tu a good name if Morrow forms the rest
Mars Merkarba is a girl and Royal Reign too

And Cricket and Birdie and Daisy Boo.

If Prince is the name of your eldest son
Why use the same name for the younger one?
There are thousands of perfectly good names to use
There must be something individual to choose.

Dakota, Killarney and Texas have become almost common
So why raise an eyebrow at Egypt and Moroccan?
Moxie Crimefighter may join the police force
For Pilot Inspektor - a flight instructor, of course

Sparrow James Midnight sounds very cool
But how will Audio Science cope at school?
Do you think Zuma Nesta Rock would ever be seen
Out in public with Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen?

I wonder if Makoa-Wolf  will think it funny
To terrorise young Mirabella Bunny..
And is it likely that  Moses Amadeus
Will share his lunch with Satchel Seamus?

Some of these kids may be spared some pain
When one half of their name is relatively sane.
Bluebelle Madonna and Elsie Otter may conform
To what most of us consider to be the norm.

But perhaps each of us thinks our name is good
And probably wouldn't change it if we could.
I look at old Uncles, Aunts and Grans
And wonder how they could bear their names -

Blanche and Mildred, Maud and Flora
Myrtle and Enid, Gertrude and Norah
Henry and Harvey, Maurice and Ned
Leonard, Lawrence, Bartholomew and Fred.

When I consider the views of the generation ahead
I wonder if they muttered and shook their head
At plain Margaret and Betty, Mary and Anne
Brian and Denis, Terry and Dan.

However some parents are way over the top
And really don't know when to stop.
The nickname Luna seems just fine
But her whole name won't fit on a line.

Don't you feel sorry for Rosalind Arusha Arkadina Altalune Florence Thurman-Busson 

Some names are heavy loads for kids to carry

Christmas in January, February, March ...

By Boxing Day or New Years Day
Or sometimes a few weeks on
Most Christmas gifts have lost their gloss
And some are  already gone.
But some things last for months or years
And some may never leave
All those sweet indulgences
Beginning on Christmas Eve.

We've filled a glass and drunk a toast
In champagne, punch or beer
Wishing all our friends the best
For Christmas and New Year.
We've built our own traditions
And some treats we always have
Because Christmas isn't Christmas
Without ice-cream, cream and pav.

But we wonder if it's worth it
Though everything tastes good
When New Year padding is what's left
Of the delicious Christmas pud.
And all those sweets and savouries
That we really had to taste
Are the longest lasting Christmas gifts
Around our hips and waist.

Why the Hell Not?

I own a small computer.
I paid for it myself
And chose it from hundreds
Displayed on a shelf.

I bought expensive anti-virus
And paid for each upgrade
I even had it serviced
And every app was paid

So my blood boils inside me
And white rage fills my eyes
When I get that little message
'You are not authorised.'

A Blue Christmas

The sky was an Aussie midnight blue
And so was the language which freely flew
And we learned words never heard before
When Santa stubbed his toe at our front door.

All was quiet in our part of the town
And we kids had finally settled down
The sacks we chose were big enough
When Santa came with toys and stuff.

The sounds in the street had all gone quiet
There was an air of expectancy in the night.
The doors were open to catch the breeze
And lights still twinkled in Christmas trees.

All this week we'd been so good
We knew exactly where we stood.
Whether Santa checked once or twice
We weren't naughty. We were nice.

We'd left out carrots and biscuits and Fanta
To refresh the reindeer and poor tired Santa.
He always came with never a sound
Leaving hoof-prints on the ground.

But last night we heard this terrible roar,
A great commotion at the front door
It didn't sound like words for Santa to choose,
 Language we weren't allowed to use.

We scurried out and peeked around the door
We were horrified by what we saw
Santa has hopping and stomping around
Toys were scattered on the ground.

Mum said, 'Santa, please, tone it down
You'll wake everyone in the town
And families don't expect from you
Language that I describe as blue.'

We soon got hustled back to bed
'It's a stressful time for Santa,' Mum said
'He'll have to hobble back to the sleigh
And, bad words and all, be on his way.'

But there must be a problem with our front door
Because next day Dad's foot was also sore
Would you believe Dad stubbed his toe
Exactly as Santa had. Ho, ho, ho!

Oke Doke Karaoke

It's odd what interests people and what they think is fun
And that the choices are so different for everyone.
Just give me a microphone and your work is over
I'll talk and tell tall tales, whether tipsy or cold sober.

Trinh flies off tall hills with flimsy wings of vinyl
And Jan writes fairy stories with messages sublimal.
Some friends run or swim or cycle just for exercise
Others spend hours on crosswords for a piddling little prize.

I'm not sure what inspires some folk - seeking variety or fame?
Is it to conquer fear, excel or merely play the game?
I have never felt the lure of squeezing down crevasses
Or setting Guinness records for wrestling in molasses.

Mount Everest has been climbed - so why do it again?
Surfing waves ten storeys high is patently insane.
There really is a reason that caves are underground
And the highest, deepest, largest features have probably been  found.

                                             **********

My Best Friend's Wedding has a scene that makes my eyelids sting.
The bride-to-be accepts the dare to take the mike and sing.
She really is quite dreadful but laughs as though she's singing well.
For most of us the very thought is the hottest floor of hell.

Tonight I went out clubbing to support my singing friend.
Like any competition when you're competing at the end,
Contestants gave it all they had, which was never a surprise -
Singing Karaoke for a quite substantial prize.

To get points for presentation, some dressed up like a dream
With red and white and tinsel for the Christmas theme.
And sixteen singers, one by one, delivered up their song
With a little bit of nervousness but rarely got it wrong

The judges sat in concentration just below the floor
With such a lot at stake, they had to keep the score
But from the tables nearby I learned what I should know
With commentary from experts who'd come there for the show.

This bloke is good and he looks the part
But he's often slow and he'll miss the start.

And she will dazzle on the stage
Her costumes are truly all the rage.

Now her voice is sweet but not much power
Should sing out here like in the shower.

He steps up on the stage and he always trips
But just you wait when he lets the notes rip.

Wait for this one, she's in with a chance
Combining her song with a bit of a dance.

This guy could be the winner tonight
As long as he's got the song choice right.

On and on the comments roll, as each new person sings
I'm pleased I'm not a judge who has to know these things.
When the winners are called at last I assume that they are right
There are sighs of disappointment and expressions of delight.

But from where I sit on the sidelines, as the Karaoke ends
I realise that under the spotlight, they all compete as friends.
They were here to have some fun and enjoy their time of glory
And winning the contest was just the highlight of the story.

                                          **********

But come on now, this was the best of the best
So stick around and take a look at the rest.
There's the one-song wonder and the one that chants
And one who's been smoking some mind bending plants.

Some start to sing when they're eighty or more
And some quite frankly were behind the door.
Some can't hold a tune or get to the beat
Some crumble and cry and can't take the heat.

There's always a reason for your dilemma
Your voice may be weak or may have a tremor.
You've always been told just to watch and hear.
Now you've made the choice to face your fear.

When you stand in front of the mirror at home
Even if you're good, you're all alone.
Or you can step up to the mike and have some fun.
That's Karaoke - when all's said and done.

Get Stuffed

'Is that Mrs O'Rorkee?' said the voice on the phone.
'Another pushy caller,' I thought with a groan.
My phone was on Bluetooth but I pulled up to the kerb.
I can't concentrate while I'm listening to their blurb.

I know I could just hang up or not take the call
But someone's doing her job, just like us all.
She assured me she just had some questions to ask
She'd tick them off as we finished each task.

'Your age?  Twenty to sixty?' she inquired
'Much older than that. I'm twelve years retired.'
If she wanted to sell me a house or a dive on the reef,
She had the wrong age group - oh, such a relief!

Then her voice really changed, it was flooded with cheer!
I'd given the answer she needed to hear.
'Have you thought of your passing and your family's pain?
Do you want to spare them the financial strain?

Funerals are very expensive when you're gone
It can cost many thousands to help you pass on.
It will be very stressful for those who are left -
All that worry when they're feeling  bereft!

Let me get the professionals to give you a ring
They'll just give information. They won't sell you a thing.
They're very understanding and not pushy you'll find
Their knowledge of the process will give you peace of mind.

But I won't need a funeral, I break in with a sigh.
'Why not?' she said. 'You know that one day you will die.
If your funeral's arranged and paid for ahead
Your kids and their families can relax when you're dead.'  .

'The first rule of selling,' I told her, 'is to listen to your mark'
You need more than my age. You're still in the dark.
You don't know my philosophies and how I'd like to go
I may not need a funeral and a final parting show.'

My daughter is a taxidermist at the state museum
She prepares the exhibitions before anyone can see 'em.
She works with all the animals that are set up inside
She removes their guts and drains their blood and tans their little hides.

That's what she's going to do for me - got special dispensation -
To preserve an ancient specimen for the younger generation.
She'll prepare me faithfully with wrinkles, droops and scars
And keep all the inside bits in clearly labelled jars.

I've promised it to Med School where they teach anatomy
And all the scientific things like physiology.
While students learn the bits and pieces that make the human frame,
Perhaps they'll take care of themselves and not end up the same.

When the Uni's done with me and I'm much the worse for wear,
My family will take me home and continue with my care.
I'll scare off any burglar who thinks there's no one home,
Propped up before the telly with my knitting and the phone.

The little kids can feel secure if their parents are not there.
They can relax and do their thing under Nana's vacant stare.
My son-in-law is not so sure. He thinks it's rather sleazy.
If friends drop in he'll cover me in case they're feeling queasy.

On Halloween when kids come by and want to trick or treat
We can scare them off forever with me laid out on a sheet.
My future's all cut and dried, as the taxidermist said,
Though I guess I'll end up wearing cobwebs in the shed.

So please don't try to make me spend up before my time is done.
What I have in mind is cheaper and more fun.
It won't worry me in days to come when I'm simply skin and bone
But now I love hear that gasp at the other end of the phone.

A Thousand Piece Jigsaw in a Hundred Shades of Green

It was Peninsula Toastmasters Christmas meeting
And after best wishes and greeting and seating,
Lynne set the rules for the Christmas tree
Where gifts were all wrapped so we couldn't see.

'When your number is called, you choose from the pile
Or steal someone's gift, with a wave and a smile.
Unwrap it and show it and take it along
But don't get attached as it soon might be gone

Kris chose a box that was large, neat and square
Knowing for sure it was choccies in there
Then on his face disappointment was seen -
A thousand piece jigsaw in all shades of green

But more were to come and someone might like it
Surely someone tonight would reach out and swipe it.
He stood it upright so it could clearly be seen -
A thousand piece jigsaw in all shades of green.

The selections were moving along at fast paces
And expressions of envy were seen on some faces.
Some gifts moved around with remarkable speed
As people saw things they'd want or might need.

I stole the parcel that Doug cheerfully took -
An 18 inch tall, brightly painted old chook.
But Jacqui kept it firmly set in her sights
And at her turn, it became hers by rights.

A gingerbread house with a light on inside
Was another great gift that everyone eyed.
It was just the thing to sit up on a shelf
And Jan soon snaffled it up for herself.

Shortbread bikkies and chocolates and wine
Ornaments and nick-knacks and a NO WAY sign.
But nobody (not even Kris) was too keen
On a thousand piece jigsaw in all shades of green.

Now under the tree was just a bottle of red
Would Lynne take it or steal something instead?
Of all the presents she wavered between
She took Kris' jigsaw in all shades of green.

Then all went off home with a gift of some kind
Leaving the fun of the meeting behind.
But the spirit of friendship for me was seen
In that thousand piece jigsaw in all shades of green.