Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 22nd September 2019

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 22^nd September 2019

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:

1.      Citizens of The Vize came to the rescue of a poor woman who had swum all the way to Bradford On Avon (twice) to demand that Wiltshire Council allow D-Town to leave the Union with a Deal, only to be forced to swim back (twice).  Whilst the bad news is that we didn’t get a Deal, the good news is that the woman achieved a PB and a new World record for continuous canal swimming.

2.      And after last week’s revelations in the publication of his memoirs by ex-Mayor Willy Wontee, a new row has broken out after he revealed that he had broken the accepted, but unwritten, protocol that the Lady Mayoress should never be compromised, or directly involved in local politics.  Wontee revealed that he “may” have suggested that the LM “raise an eyebrow” or “give a come-hither signal” to voters in the Potterne Independence Ballot in 2016.  No posh boys were harmed in the making of this cynical crack.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

Deer

Deer

Stumbling, I almost fall forward,

A stray bootlace dragged in the mud

Of the trail as I wearily walk,

So bend down to make the thing good.

Glad of the rest, but breaking my rhythm,

Quickly all fingers and thumbs,

Then looking up suddenly

I am almost struck dumb.

Frightened, but standing her ground,

Stands the trembling, terrified beast,

Staring unblinking straight forward,

Determined to face me, at least.

Not thirty feet between us,

The doe regretting her error,

Unwilling to turn her back upon me,

Despite her evident terror.

Time stands still for an instant,

The deer holding my stare,

No sound and no movement

For either of us, both fully aware.

Unmoving, the tableau continues,

A stand-off on the track,

Impossible to break away,

Neither can turn back.

This meeting of different worlds,

Here in the heat of the day,

Each uncomprehending the other,

The deer desperate to slip away.

Then a change of scent, or some movement,

Perhaps a sound somewhere to the right,

It takes just less than a second,

And she’s suddenly passed from my sight.

The bushes have swallowed her up,

And with a movement of some grace,

The lady has turned and fled,

Vanished, leaving without any trace.

I look about for her, of course,

Searching around everywhere,

But Nature has concealed her well,

Almost as if she’d never been there.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

The Devil's In The Retail

The Devil’s In The Retail

Doing the shopping is always a chore, pushing a trolley down many an aisle,

But on my last trip down to Tesco, I saw something which forced  me to smile.

I’d come through fresh meat and groceries, and was just picking some bread from the shelf,

When I noticed a miserable presence: in short, it was the Devil himself.

I knew it was him from the pitchfork, his goat’s legs, his horns and the cloak.

There was his red face and his sharp teeth, and all round him there was a faint smell of smoke.

But there was something in his demeanour; I could tell that something wasn’t quite right.

He looked all miserable, pasty and drawn:  the demonic presence looked quite a sight.

Now I’m not a believer in Hades, but I couldn’t bear to see him that way,

So I asked Lucifer of his troubles, and this is what he sadly had to say:

“I’ve got a narrowing job description, and Forces of Darkness are facing huge cuts,

We’re out-sourcing Temptation Services, and minor devils are out on their butts.

And the price of gas goes ever upward, so we can’t afford to run the fires all night.

The Tormentors have asked for higher pay, and Hell’s budget has got very tight.”

Then he swished his forked tail around for a bit, and his visage looked dark, and of Death,

He had a bad case of halitosis, and he could have stopped a horse with his breath.

“You see - there’s a lack of believers; no-one these days gives much of a sod.

That’s meant re-structuring the heavens, and down-sizing imposed by the Lord God.

The Book of Revelation’s been revised, reduced to some lifestyle hints and tips,

The number of The Beast is One-One-One, gone are the Horsemen Of The Apocalypse.

Then there’s all of these Health & Safety rules, and the Human Rights of the bad sinners.

We’re not allowed to keep them all starving – that’s why I’m shopping for ready dinners.

The terrible reports on Trip Advisor were the straw that broke the camel’s back.

We’ve had to close the burning lake of fire, and Beelzebub’s been given the sack.”

Old Harry cut a figure quite forlorn, and he was far from a presager of doom,

The smoke no longer swirled about him, and his features showed up clearly his gloom.

He said he couldn’t stop chatting longer – if he’s late then his dog Cerberus yelps.

So I wished The Evil One “best of luck” – well, they say that “Every Little Helps”.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

Pork with Paprika & Olives

Recipe for: PORK with PAPRIKA & OLIVES

Ingredients:

·        500g diced pork (leg or shoulder)

·        Red onion – cut into thin wedges

·        2 garlic cloves, crushed

·        100g chorizo, cut into chunks

·        1 tsp smoked paprika

·        400g tin chopped tomatoes

·        300ml/ ½ pt chicken stock

·        400g can chickpeas, rinsed

·        100g green olives

·        Zest & juice of a lemon

·        Small bunch of parsley, chopped

Method:

1.      Heat oven to 150c/ fan 130C/ gas 2

2.      In oven-proof casserole with lid, season pork, then brown (in batches) in a little oil over a high heat. Set aside.

3.      Add onion & garlic to oil, cooking till softened

4.      Add chorizo & paprika, cooking for another 2 minutes

5.      Add tomatoes, stock and the cubes of browned pork

6.      Stir well, bring up to a simmer, then cover with lid & place in oven

7.      Cook for 1 hour

8.      Stir in chick peas & olives.

9.      Cook for another 1 hour.

10.   Stir in lemon zest, juice & parsley just before serving.

What else you need to know:

1.      The sauce in this is REALLY tasty

2.      Goes really well with crusty bread & a glass of cider

In The Eye Of The Beholder

In The Eye of The Beholder            

I wanted to be one of the beautiful people,

But was it the big thighs,

That led to my demise in their eyes?

Or was it the tattoos that caused them to refuse?

Or perhaps I’m somehow deformed?

Not properly “normed”?

Too short to be sought, too old to be sold.

Or is it because I’m too tall that caused me to fall?

Is it my poor looks, my nips and my tucks,

Or just my sagging buttocks?

They say they’ve tightened their criteria,

And their standards haven’t slipped.

But let’s get to the nitty-gritty:

I know I’m not that pretty,

But I don’t look that shitty –

Can’t they have some pity?

What is it they’re wanting? –

A view selective and snooty,

Where difference is excluded,

And the only pass-book is beauty?

This ghetto of symmetrical features can never reach us.

This apartheid of self-image - what does it teach us?

These discriminations,

Against different genes,

Can only lead to eliminations -

And we know what that will finally mean.

They need to take care,

Before this nightmare,

Becomes more than a game.

For dating and mating,

With too many of their own kind,

Will produce offspring that all look the same.

We need to celebrate the differences that make us all what we are.

The good, the bad and the ugly should all get over the bar.

So let’s cease this paranoia,

And let’s all be bolder.

I know I’m no oil-painting,

But isn’t beauty in the eye of the beholder?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

Hashtag#

Hashtag#

Full stops bring us to an ending,

A closing of the subject or the sentence

And don’t get me going on connectors

A colonising colon

A sexy semi-colon

Or a dangling dash

Perhaps even a fading ellipsis…

Hinting that the sentence is not quite over

A feeling that there is still yet more

A suggestion of other possibilities…

And those other inflectors of punctuation

The question and exclamation marks

To create the question or the drama

Or those bristling brackets

Those luggage-expanding little marks

That let you cram in a little bit more

That will not quite fit in what you say

Ah, but if there were only one more way

To cast a smile or shadow over what’s just been said?

To add a note of humour, aching sadness, or wistfulness

Summary or sarcasm that makes the point?

A visual hint that means something more

To show that you’re up-to-date

Down with the kids and the twitterati?

Hashtag #punctuation

Hashtag #proseemoji

Hashtag #signofourtimes

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

Magic

Magic

This is the face of Everyman

Dressed in casual shoes and jeans

There’s not a thing remarkable about him

But he’s more than he might seem

He wears a cheap and nasty watch

His glasses are smeared and show the dirt

His teeth are small and crooked

And he’s spilt some lunch all down his shirt

But he knows what he’s talking about

As he skims quickly through my notes

I’m know that I’m going to trust his judgement

And that he’s going to get my vote

For he’s a consultant and a surgeon

The man that will wield the knife

You say surgical procedure: I call it magic

Either way, he’s the man who’ll save my life

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019