Masquerade

Masquerade

We may all be strangers here

But one can never know

The depths of dissimulation

A hint of assignation

The facial features behind the masks

The true expressions

The subtle nuance

The slight inflexions

Which may imply

A hidden meaning

To detect something real

Betrayed by flashing eyes

A curling of the lip

A movement of the mouth

Concealing private coldness

While expressing something warmer

In this all-too-public fancy dress

A costumed charade

A pretence of better feelings

But secrets held within

This phoney masquerade

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Elizabeth

Elizabeth

She walks and talks at the same time

usually muttering to herself

or shouting her opinions

at anyone who cares to listen

Her shambling gait

and aimless wandering

daily through the precinct

an habitual routine

a normal fixture

and commuter landmark

for regular travellers

Dirty and dishevelled

unkempt and unwashed

her florid face still lit with a smile

remnant of a faded beauty

Swaddled now in layers of clothing

thick coat and floppy hat

cardigans and jumpers

skirts and tights

gloved hands and fingers

gripping, grasping tightly

the string-crossed bags

which she carries with her

wherever she goes

She asks for nothing

demanding only time to listen

never seeking shelter

but slides off somewhere every night

living by her own her lights

by her logic and on her wits

A modern crazy lady

seemingly not unhappy

but sometimes over-loud

creating an awkward nuisance

which passers-by would ignore

if only she did not make them feel

so much more uncomfortable

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

High Wire

High Wire

To step out into the void

The wire shivering as it takes the strain

Of my weight upon it

Is to walk into an unknown

An empty darkness

The first few paces of the downward stretch

Towards the disappearing centre

High above the watchers

Who hold their breath

Their eyes pinned upon my every tremble

Until I establish balance

An equilibrium of mind and body

The deadly drop beneath

My out-stretched arms

Fingers tautly pointing

With limbered legs

And the distance to the Earth

Are of no immediate concern

Nor any aid to concentration

The only point of focus

Being one foot in front of another

Eyes upon the destination

Crowds and lights both disappear

Into a faded emptiness

Below my fragile body

As it seems to float along the rope

Blood pumping in my ears

The silence of air

The clarity of perfect quiet

Alone above the world

Determined not to tumble

Into the arms of death below

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Tooth

Tooth

You hurt me so much

And made my life a misery

With your endless nagging,

Complaining and worrying,

Your feelings for me hot and cold

And though I tried to ignore you

You were always there in the background

A constant presence

A biting pain

That would not go away

In the end I couldn’t stand the pressure

That you placed upon me

The way you made my nerves tingle

The decay in our relationship

So I made up my mind

That life was far too short

For me not to be as happy

As everyone else

And that we just could not go on

Living together any more

And I went and took advice

From a professional

Who got to the root of the problem

And laid out all my options

And after I’d chewed the matter over

It was my own decision

To make a complete break with you -

I knew that we must be parted

It was the kindest thing to do

In the circumstances

I cannot deny

That it was painful at the time

And I felt a certain numbness

About your sudden going

You left a very big hole in my life

But time has a way of healing

And I’m feeling so much better now

So I’m sure it was the right decision

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Franken-Furter

Franken-Furter (the monster of modern Frankenstein food)

What end is there to man’s ingenuity?

His ability, when he’s in the mood,

To engineer our daily intake,

And bugger about with our food.

You’ve just got to read a few labels,

Although the print’s incredibly small,

To discover what it is they’re up to,

And find out how they’re conning us all.

Don’t get me started on sausages:

They use lots of the skin, sinew and some bristle,

Rusk, knuckle, a blizzard of gizzard,

And then add in plenty of gristle.

From slurry, and factory-floor sweepings,

And bits left over I’ve discovered,

“Chopped and shaped”, and certain “selected cuts”,

And also “mechanically-recovered”.

Then to make it frozen, or microwaveable,

You’d be surprised at what they have to do:

Colourings, flavourings and texturings,

With modified starch and other bits of goo.

Then they add extra sugar and some salt,

Followed by several e-numbers,

Preservatives and acidity agents,

And God knows what they’ve done to cucumbers.

There’s modifiers and regulators,

Emulsifiers and some thickeners,

Stabilisers and other weird stuff -

It’s a wonder it don’t sicken us!

They hide the grams of saturated fat -

They don’t like their product to look flaccid,

So they pump in fructose and glucose syrup,

Topped up by di-glycerides of fatty acid.

Glazing agents and flavour enhancers,

All the things that we’re supposed to hate:

Add a dash of something not natural,

Plus monosodium glutamate.

It all goes in to our processed foods,

Not just Cheesy Wotsits and Turkey Twizzlers,

But chicken nuggets, and ready dinners,

Pizzas, pies and those meaty sizzlers.

But they make it sound so attractive:

Branding family members sounds less messy:

John West, Mother’s Pride and Daddie’s Sauce,

Then there’s Uncle Ben and Auntie Bessie!

                                   

These packagers have a lot to answer for:

Food scientists mucking about with our cheese,

Selling heart-attacks on a plate,

Hiding the grease and making us highly obese.

Never mind the Scots loving fried Mars Bars,

Or cream teas, chocolate or late-night kebab,

They’re pumping too much gunk into our food,

And slowly turning us all into flab.

So we’ve all got to wise up a bit,

About calories and carbs – it’s not too late -

Just look out for their “serving suggestions”,

And avoid anything “made from concentrate”.

Avoid chicken masala-type pizza,

Don’t eat Dogburgers, unless you’re bent,

And look out for the magic words on labels:

“Beware: May Contain Nourishment”.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 26th January 2014

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 26^th January 2014

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

1.       The village is in shock this week-end after it was revealed that Dave Wentwrong, leader of Bromham Parish Council, announced that his long-term relationship with his wife, Valerie Rottweiler, was at an end, and that she will no longer fulfil the role of “First Parish Councillor”.  It brings to an end weeks of speculation that Mr Wentwrong has been having an affair with the woman at No. 47 on the High Street.

2.       Both sides in the increasingly bitter Devizes civil war were finally persuaded to sit down and talk in the same room of the Civic Centre yesterday, but only under the auspices of the Umpalumpa Network (UN).  The talks, dubbed “Trowbridge 2” by the media, are expected to go on for several weeks, or until everyone else has completely lost interest.

3.       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Awakening

Awakening (on the re-awakening of the Rosetta probe in deep space, ready to begin its mission to attempt a landing on a comet. I tried to imagine how this awkward teenage piece of technology would feel upon being rudely woken up.)

It’s bad enough that they’ve sent me out here,

Within the deep, dark frontiers of space,

In some wide-ranging lonely orbit,

‘Cos out near Jupiter’s a damned dingy place.

Worse – they’ve left me to float inactive,

Beyond home planets, out here in the deep,

But now they’ve had the gall and damned cheek,

To expect me to just wake up from my sleep.

They sit there back at home in some comfort,

Saying “Time to wake up, Rosetta!”

After I’ve been snoozing for nearly two years:

To be honest – I wish I felt better.

I just want to hit the snooze button,

To silence this intruding alarm,

To stop this electronic ringing,

Shut the damn thing up, to get back to calm.

But hibernation’s no longer allowed:

Seems I’ve got to spring into action,

And get my antennae and boosters shifting -

They want to continue the transaction.

There’s a task I’m programmed to complete,

An endeavour I just can’t avoid,

The transmission said “complete your mission:

Time to start chasing that asteroid!”

It’s a dangerous, elliptical task,

With a flight-path light-years beyond Mars,

I know I’ll vomit when I get near the comet,

But if I miss, I’ll be out there in the stars.

How I wish I could come back home again,

Where I was made, the place of my birth,

I’ve found it’s no fun, out here near the Sun,

Please! Can’t I return to the Earth?

Or at least let me return to my slumbers,

Let me go back to the realm of my dreams,

Find some other bundle of hardware,

To accomplish your plans and your schemes!

Let me re-fold my solar panels,

Let my circuits cool down and then,

If I just ignore my own software,

I could get back to sleep once again.

  

Just let me pull back over my covers,

For this task I wish I hadn’t been built.

Can’t we just say I’m having a duvet day,

As I sink under my electronic quilt?

So if you lot think you’ve got a hard life,

As you struggle to stifle a yawn,

Just think of me out here in deep space,

Next time the alarm clock goes off in the dawn.

I’ll be out here chasing the comet’s tail,

Although I’m told at the end of this test,

As my new ongoing incentive,

They’re going to let me have a VERY long rest!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Pondering Peacocks

Pondering Peacocks

Waking slowly from a drowsing sleep

As morning light intrudes itself

Creeping unbidden under eyelids

At the very edge of dawn

Still faint and frowsy

As the last lingering strands

Of dreams and rambling thoughts

Stretch out longer and longer

Until they gently snap

The final threads of contact

With night-time places

Which then recede and fade

Among the tangled bedclothes

Intrusive worries for the day ahead

The grey, the mundane

The heavy, usual round

Of tedious tasks and dreary chores

The things that must be done

People that must be met

Appointments kept

And all the other things

Demanded by one’s daily life

Prompted by the relentless movement

Of digits of the bed-side clock

But reluctant yet to make that start

And time, being only relative

The sheets and pillows feel still warm

Clinging and making calming claim

Upon the tired, restless body

The hour is yet but early

There is still a tiny chance

To conserve some precious energy

And preserve some mindful meanderings

To postpone the inevitable

And hold the last few moments

Of some happiness within

By thinking of better things

Floating into vivid colour

And pondering perhaps

Upon peacocks

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Dull

Dull

Dull

Lonely

Unwanted

Never picked

Left sitting on the wall

Till the very last choice

Then reluctantly taken

Like the useless booby prize

And told to keep away from the action

Too plain to be noticed

Too dull to talk to

Too boring to worry about

Melting into the crowd

Indistinguishable from the others

Without feature in a grey world

Totally unremarkable

Lifeless and uninspired

Never invited

Nor sought after

Always passed over

And forgotten about

Awkward

Unimaginative

Unsure how to talk to others

Or what to talk about

Unable to understand

What might be on their minds

No conversation or social graces

Too vacuous to be original

Empty and without pattern

Not seen as anyone special

Or different enough

To be become anyone’s friend

To merit the slightest attention

Or to be talked about

But easily overlooked

Un-noticed and ignored

Totally unexceptionable

Never missed

Always alone

Lonely

Dull

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Old Lady

Old Lady

Under shady branches

Gnarled and knuckled

Scabbed and twisting

Lie windfalls softly cradled

Cushioned in the dewy grass

Bruised and slowly browning

In the hazy sunshine

Sweet juices fermenting

Into heady cider

Intoxicating the lazy wasps

And the blackbirds

Which feed upon the crop

Sipping the late abundant nectar

She leans slightly to one side

Like a hobbled old lady

Her trunk bent beneath the weight

Of twigs and leaves and fruits

Her aged limbs

Weathered, wind-buffeted

Her bark rough and leathery

Skin rotted and cankered

Her shape crooked and disfigured

Diseased, hard and broken

By the passing years

Yet still the sap must rise within her

Re-awakened every Spring

To produce abundant blossom

Pulling in the pollinators

To create a canopy-full

Fertile with heavy fruits

Of such acid sharpness

Silhouetted in her twilight years

She stands defiantly alone

Never part of any orchard

But fiercely rooted

Through every season

Crabbed in her corner of the garden

But still verdant, fruitful, useful

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Buffalo Chicken Wings

Recipe for: BUFFALO WINGS (Spiced chicken wings)

Ingredients:

·         A great big pile of chicken wings (cut the thin tips off & joint each wing into two to leave bite-size pieces on the bone)

·         2 cloves garlic, peeled & crushed

·         1 tblsp olive oil

·         1 ½ tblsp cider vinegar

·         1 tsp parika

·         1 tblsp Worcestershire sauce

·         2 tblsp tomato puree

·         1 tsp salt

·         2 tblsp pepper sauce – choose how hot/ intense you want the wings to be!)

·         2 tblsp clear honey

Method:

1.       Prepare the chicken wings, and place them in a large bowl with some room to be able to stir them around.

2.       In a separate bowl, mix all the other ingredients to form a hot, sticky marinade.

3.       Taste & adjust as you see fit, depending on how spicy you want your wings.

4.       Pour the marinade over the wings, and turn them over to coat everything thoroughly.

5.       Cover and stick the bowl in the fridge for as long as possible.  Overnight is good.

6.       Stir/ turn the wings in the marinade a few times.

7.       When you are ready to cook, heat the oven to 180C/ fan 170C/ gas 4.

8.       Drain the wings and reserve the marinade.

9.       Spread the drained wings onto a large baking sheet, spacing them out as much as possible.  If there’s a lot, use two trays rather than crowd them – they need to bake, not steam.

10.    Bake for 30 minutes, then pour off any excess oil that has gathered on the tray.

11.    Baste the wings in some of the marinade, then return to the oven.  Turn the oven up by 10-15C, because we want the edges of the wings to start catching in the heat.

12.    Bake for another 15-20 minutes, basting with marinade 2 or 3 times.

13.    The wings should be sticky & glazed, with most of the liquid/ marinade evaporated or poured off.  That means dry, not floating in a sauce!

What else you need to know:

1.       Serve on a warmed large serving platter, sprinkled with chopped coriander and/ or spring onions.

2.       Provide plenty of napkins/ kitchen towel as the wings are wonderfully messy, and a bowl to catch all the discarded bones.

3.       The traditional American accompaniments are sticks of raw carrot and raw celery, together with a blue cheese dip/ dressing.  No idea why, but they do, and it works just fine!

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 19th January 2014

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 19^th January 2014

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

1.       Bromham Crown Court has been busy this week, as nearly every court-room was being used to process the constant stream of local celebrity octagenarians being prosecuted under the 1927 Goat-Nadgering (And Related Farmstock) Abuse Act. Goats and sheep as old as 12 have been coming forward to make formal complaints to the Police that they had been interfered with over the past 12 months, in a range of outdoor locations in the area.

2.       Excitement is building in anticipation of the opening of the Wiltshire Winter Olympics at the new multi-pound Sodyou site on the edge of the village.  Security has been tight, with foot patrols in the High Street having been stepped up to once an hour.  There is also a rumour that, during the Games period, the X33 bus service will include an extra journey calling at Bromham (Wednesdays only).

3.       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Icarus About To Fall

Icarus About To Fall

How is it possible to climb

So far, so high, so clear

Into this acid-blue, cloudless sky

And to feel the warmth

Upon naked back and limbs

After so many years

Of cold confinement

Down there in the dark

With dearest Daedelus?

Who would not wish to flee

From an unjust captivity

Subject to Minos’ punishment

For earth-bound earlier sins?

Or desire to end the pain of a father

Whose cautious warning

Betrays his fractious fearfulness?

And how may mere wax and feathers

Fashion human wings

That may lift a sluggish body

Prising it from the clutching fingers

And heavy prisoning grip of Earth

To let it soar and glide

And fly, dazzled, towards Helios?

And why not tempt the gods

By reaching the height of eagles

Stretching sinews

Facing the blinding glare

Of solar brightness?

Or glance down towards the sea

To gain a glimpse of Paros, Delos

And Samos far below?

How close might one fly

To the hot, burning disc

That radiates its vital force

Before being forced to turn away

To avoid tumbling from the heavens

Falling headlong to a certain death

And perishing beneath the ocean spray?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

A Corner Turned

A Corner Turned

And now the thing is done -

The post that seemed so far away

That never would be reached

Has become a milestone passed along the way

Already long behind me

Fading into hazy distance

A cross-ways of sorts

A turning-point achieved

Breath exhaled and a sigh released

Then confident strides along

A new and different path

As it stretches out ahead

The course a changed one

The direction of travel

Along a new trajectory

Perhaps towards the same horizon

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Radioactive

Radioactive

I’ve had this little operation,

On the theatre table laid prostrate,

They’ve fixed me up, and I’m good to go,

Now they’ve irradiated my prostate.

Yes they treated me with radiation,

With hundreds of tiny little seeds,

Now I’m full of alpha particles,

That will soon provide for all my needs.

I’ve got my own internal power source,

Which is a most important factor.

Now I’m a little generator,

Like a tiny nuclear reactor.

This fusion makes me glow in the dark,

Just like the ad with the Reddy-Brek kid,

And if the nation gets short of power,

They’ll just connect me to the National Grid.

Now you’ll see I’ve got a new demeanour,

That there’s a special quality to my gaze:

It comes from a sense of inner power –

Well - that and I’m transmitting gamma rays.

And it’s bound to make me so much fitter,

A claim I think you’ll find is fair,

Cause now I can only go out and about,

If I’m sporting my lead underwear.

These hot spots of uranium

Provide me with lots of future hope.

It’ll take me decades to decay,

Thanks to the half-life of my isotope.

And now I’m fit and full of energy,

A Geiger-counter provides the metric:

I’m a low-carbon, lean, green machine,

And I generate my own electric.

Not only that: there’s something else to tell -

This medical advance that’s come to pass,

Means that now I have this inner light,

So the sun really does shine out my ass.

There’s only one cloud on the horizon,

Something that might cause me to frown:

There could perhaps be a nuclear accident,

And my innards might go into melt-down.

  

So just be careful when you come to bury me:

It might have be a very long way down.

You won’t want me in your neighbourhood,

So it’ll have to be a long way out of town.

Anyway, there’s only one thing puzzling me:

Now that I’ve become radio-active,

And that I’m fully solar-powered,

Does it make me any more attractive?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Frozen Fruit Yoghurt Pots

Recipe for: FROZEN FRUIT YOGHURT POTS

Ingredients: (makes six):

·         150g white chocolate

·         150g frozen mixed berries (or just one fruit)

·         225g soft cream cheese

·         450g low fat natural yoghurt

Method:

1.       Break up chocolate into small pieces and melt gently in a bowl over some hot water & set aside.

2.       In a separate large bowl, mix the yoghurt & cream cheese, then add the frozen fruit & mix well.

3.       Pour the melted chocolate into the yoghurt berry mixture, mixing well.

4.       Spoon into 6 ramekin dishes.

5.       Freeze for about two hours, or overnight.

What else you need to know:

1.       To serve, remove from the freezer 20 minutes before serving.

2.       If frozen for more than a couple of hours, take out at least an hour before serving.

3.       Either way, grate over a little fridge-cold white chocolate.

Invaded

Invaded

It’s not a matter of consent

The permission to invade

To come within the confines of my body

Nor the medical necessity

Of timely intervention

But the very intrusion itself

The cutting of skin and tissue

The breach of orifice

Entrance by main force

From outside to inside

External to internal

The insertion of pipes and wires

Needles and probes

Cameras and computers

To break into the inner cavities

Among the blood and nerves and organs

That normally pump away unseen

To effect the needed repairs

That will keep me alive

To live another day

And have the breath to complain

Of the pain of violation

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014

Potatoes Dauphinoise with Horseradish

Recipe for: POTATOES DAUPHINOISE with HORSERADISH

Ingredients: (serves 6-8)

·         500ml/ 18fl oz double cream

·         500ml/ 18 fl oz milk

·         3 garlic cloves, peeled & crushed

·         3-4 tblsp hot horseradish sauce

·         8 large King Edward or Maris Piper potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced

Method:

1.       Tip the sliced potatoes into a large pan with the milk, cream, garlic & horseradish

2.       Bring to the boil, then simmer gently for 8-10 mins until semi-tender

3.       Whilst the potatoes are cooking, heat the oven to 190C/ fan 170C/ gas 7

4.       When the potatoes are part-cooked, tip everything in the pan into a large oven-proof dish, and cook for 30 minutes.

5.       When the potatoes are cooked & the mixture is bubbling, raise the oven temperature to 220C/ 200C fan/ gas 9 and finish off for another 10-15 minutes to start browning.

What else you need to know:

1.       This dish is rich & silky & delicious.  Goes well with most cooked meats & casseroles.

2.       Can be part-cooked, then removed from oven to cool.  Once cold, cover with foil. Reheat with a 30-minute blast in the oven, until piping hot & starting to brown.