How Are You? Comical poem by Angela Lansbury

 When the British ask, 'How are you?'

Tjey don"t really want to know

Everything that's wrong with you 

From left to right, and head to toe

The Brits don't want to know

About  short sight and wonky teeth

Miscaiiages, car accidents

Skin problems and what?'s underneath

Nor morning dickness, a blocked nose

Nor vomiting and diarrhea

Dandruff. Sore thrist and hammer toes

Lost weigjt, lost socks, and broken nose

How are you's just a greeting

So answer, very well, great.or all rùght

Then add, how are you. But neither of you

Should  list  aches and pains all though day and night

I've heard that Russia's different

They tell the truth and want to know

So ig you want to tell your troubles, that's where you should go

Once I went to zzzRusdia

And I hope Ive got this rigjt

Because when my date askef, How sre you

I taldef thoughout the nigjt

I told him all the troubles that the Brits don't want to know

Aches snd pains, agsin and again

From left to right, all through the nigjt

From left to right and head to toe

The British are so polite

TheyLl listen if you talk all night

And wont say how to put things rigjht

When in distress they call the NHS

-ends-

NHS stands for National Health Service.

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With all your driends and colleaged, both oh them. I mean both friends and family, or frinds and colleages, hundrefs of them, or the two of them, if you have only two.

Is This Poetry Or Prose?

 Who knows, and do you really know

If you wrote poetry or prose?

If you've read lots of poetry

When you write prose, strong feeling shows

But is it really poetry

With rhythm and with proper rhyme?

Did you count feet or syllables

Make sure each line took the same time?

A poem can be short, sharp, swift 

Be a piece of propaganda

Unlike a smart, reasoned essay

Which should be an even-hander

I often see so-called poetry

Religious rant, or political

It doesn't sound quite right to me

Cut lines are verse, not poems at all.

Some people write a quick, loud rant

Whilst others moan and groan all day

if you've got no rhyme nor rhythm

Maybe you should write sn essay

If you are so fraught with strong thought

But lack time for punctuation

Don't foist muddled struggle on us

Send words to another station.

-ends-

Do you look your age? Comical poem number 777 by Angela Lansbury

 Do you sincerely look your age

When you're out having too much fun?

When you're so drunk you tell your age 

And people lie  - 'You look so young!'

Babies are born wrong years and days

Babes should smile or sleep all the time

They don't behave in baby ways

Ungrateful, cry all night, wake, whine

Some of them look like old bald men

When you undress them, then they go

Some babies small like opium dens

How would I know.! Just guessed - don't know

Then when teens grow and want a drink

They lie about their real birth age

They do not look the age you think

Drive, accidents, get in road rage

Then when they reach the age of thirty

People say they still look twenty

When they reacy the age of forty

Poeple say they look like thirty

When they reach the age of fifty

Nifty people say you look forty

When they reach the age of sixty

People say you look like fifty

When you reach your seventies

People say you look like sixty

If a few do not believe it

They never say it's like it is

Then when you reach severnty nine

You're still having a great time

But when you reach the age of eighty

You've reach the 'it's past my bed time'

Sadly the mirrors do not lie

And you do not fit in your clothes

too fat to walk, belly balloon

Or skeleton thin, gone 'too soon'  friends die

Your hair falls out, your legs give out

You need to wear reading glasses

You grow deaf, people say, 'Don't shout'

Younger folk stop making passes

And ageless singers who took drugs

Have faces like maps full of wrinkles

Now look like bugs living in fugs

Can't keep it up, keep needing tinkles

The Cup On the Saucer Went Round And Round THE FISH ON THE DISH. Comical dinner Table poem number 771 by Angela Lansbury

 

Round Nespresso saucer with square centre. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

I was inspired to write a parody of The wheels on the bus. But instead of simple repetition, for pre-schoolers, the poem took another direction. 

It became more like an ironic ballad. Such as, A hole in my bucket, Dear Liza. 

Another influence, is the exaggerated cautionary tale. For want of a nail the battle was lost.  Humorous examples are The Lion And Albert, and Matilda told such dreadful lies. 

My poem tells a tale of endless dining disasters, and constant disagreements. And how we tried to cope and cover up. 

I started with the title The Cup On the Saucer Went Around and \around, but changed the words 

THE FISH ON THE DISH

On the day we dined up in town

We arrived soon, late afternoon,

First had water, black or green tea

Hubby, rich son, wife, Teeny-tot, poor me

The balcony table was round

It was the largest one we found

But cutlery fell on the ground

With a dreadful, clattering sound

The cup's saucer was square on round 

The cup on the saucer went up and down

Up to my mouth, I made slurping sound

My husband's hand waved, 'Tone it down!'

's

My coffee was strong, it sat too long

My cream was white the sugar brown 

I twirled the spoon in my cup round

It made a dreadful squeaky sound

The water jug was passed around 

It got lost and was never found

Somebody must have put it down

On another table or on the ground.

The sugar lump bowl sent around 

I sighed, 'I've put on half a pound!'

I took two lumps, put a third down

Dad shook his head, tutted and frowned.

The mixed fish cake dish went around 

'Is this cod?' 'Salmon.' 'Tuna.'  'Trout?

'It's monster fish - it's been renamed

All doled from the same tin no doubt!'

To go with fish, the chips went round 

The tomato ketchup bottle went round

Dad shook it up, and down his shirt

He said short words, 'Fish!' I looked hurt

The plate of pizza passed around

So everybody took one slice

The pineapple pizza looked so nice

That I took two, nobody knew

The birthday cake had candle flames

The chef had mis-spelled both our names

I said, 'Never mind, Grandpa's blind, pass the cake around!'

The sponge, jam, cream all soon went down

(

The waiter said, 'Happy Birthday' to me

I said, 'It's our anniversary

For last week's birthday, an anniversary cake

'Sorry, Ma-am. A mistake.'  'Three mistakes!'

The box of chocolates passed around

But 'baby' knocked them on the ground

You can't eat chocolates when they fall.

(At home I washed and ate them all!)

I ordered coffee but got tea

I complained, 'both taste the same to me

Both taste like coffee-tea, the same

Where's the manager?' 'Gone home. Not to blame'

I asked, 'Why is this bill so large?'

They said, 'It's our high service charge,'

Son smiled, 'That's fine, I understand -

There's always something underhand.'

-ends-

True story: Our Happy Birthday cake was given to a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary at the Alpine Restaurant, (in Bushey, London) - which later closed down.

Coffee-tea was a story told about some airlines. I thought it was a joke. But somebody who worked in the industry said it was true, to save time. 

 (More verses later on salt, pepper, bread, olives, ice cream, coffee, juice, milk, sweets)

Make up tea or dinner related words.

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Much too long was a parody of all day long.  

Here Is The Barn. Comical Poem Updated From Old Nursery Rhyme 770 By Angela Lansbury

 

Here Is The Barn

Here is old the barn, let's open doors wide,

Let’s all look inside where animals hide. 

Left are the horses, and right are the cows, 

They’re eating dinner and drinking right now. 

They’ll sleep here till night turns into day light. 

When we open doors, they’ll all trot away. 

Out in the pasture, they’ll eat grass and hay. 

Cows will moo loudly, glad horses will neigh.

-Ends-

Here Is The Barn is a secular version of the old nursery rhyme, 

'/Here is the Church, here is the steeple, open the gates and see all the people, Here is the person going upstairs, here is the person saying his prayers.'

The updated version of the poem, The Barn, either the original or my version, is one you can recite to children at dinner in restaurants and coffee shops. It also fills in time and amuses everyone when you are  seated waiting for transport and on long journeys on planes.

What did I change?

Line 1 I added 'old'. I changed 'it; to 'doors'.

Line 2 I deleted 'the' before animals and added 'all'

Line 3 I changed 'here' and 'here' to 'left' and 'right'.

Line 5 I added 'light'

Line 6 I added 'trot'

Line 7 Line 8 I deleted the word 'the' twice, in order to add moo, and glad.

You might prefer the version I originally saw, being simpler, easier to remember, easier to understand for younger children. However, I thought that my version was more visual and therefore clearer and easier to understand.

It really doesn't matter which version you remember, of if you accidentally or deliberately make up another version.

Useful Websites

Wikihow

Wikipedia

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Performance Poetry

Strictly speaking, this is a piece of performance poetry. But it is only suitable for close up around a table, or at a bedside. On stage the performers hands would be rahter small, unless enlarged on Zoom, or using a large screen.

First Dolly. Comical poem 769 by Angela Lansbury

 Our child's daughter had a dolly

And First Dolly's friend was Polly

When our dear child went out to tea

Photos showed so dollies could see.

The doll's house has lots of dollies

Our doll Polly's friend was Molly

When we took Polly out to tea

Photos showed so Molly could see

We've wooden plates and plastic cups

A plastic knife will cut cake up

A fine tea pot with lid and spout

We pass it round and pour drink out 

Sometimes we drink more, sometimes less

A paper napkin, I confess

To wipe up when we make a mess

To dry what we spilled down the dress

We and dollies enjoyed our tea

Thanks. Bye. Let's go. It's getting late.

Now we've finished and gone you see

There's only crumbs left on the plate.

-ends-

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Guilty -The Young And Old. Comical poem 768 by Angela Lansbury,

 When you are young everything's fun

You start then leave most things half done

But when you're old everything aches

And you feel guilty eating cakes

You lay awake for half of the night

Wondering if you got things right

You worry about your mistakes

You ought to shrug when a cup breaks

A broken cup is not a war

There's more, others, sold in the store

Though things aren't like they were before

Just sweep up, shut up, close the door

When there's a bully, what you do

Is take a train to somewhere new

Look for new friends and in a while

You'll smile, they'll smile, a world of smiles

There's bad things of which we should speak

But do not mourn more than a week

When all else fails, just go to France

Or play music and sing and dance.

-ends-

After writing this, I remembered that in traditional Jewish custom, after a death you sit 'shiva', which means seven, seven days and nights. Don't cook or work. After that, carry on with life.

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