Homework Jan. 11: Techie-wreckie Jottings

[David Campbell]

Techie-wreckie Jottings
by Ozzie Mandias

Part I (for Glenny and Maureen)

Me ’puter’s bloody cactus,
it’s on the blink, stone dead!
Some rotten bug’s attacked us,
an’ I am seein’ red!

Part II

Now I’m a techie whizz,
I is,
I know wot ev’ry giz-
mo is,
but I am in a tizz,
I is,
each time I get a squiz
of Ms
Hermione McFrizz;
her phiz
just shouts: “Let’s do the biz…
’ere ’tis!”
But, sadly, luv’s a swizz,
it is.

Part III

A bolt of lightnin’ ’it our shed at dawn on New Year’s Day,
an’ barbecued a dozen chooks…I mean, wot can yer say
about a crazy fing like that, wot’s more than passin’ strange?
Ixcept, maybe, that it’s a sign of flamin’ climate change!

Part IV

I bought an iPhone 7, but
it really drives me orf me nut!
Me mate sez someone’s playin’ tricks,
cos Apple’s only up ter 6!

Part V

There’s an Apple bloke I spoke to in a store not long ago,
an’ ’e told me ’bout this cloud thing, an’ ’e sed I oughtta know
that the stuff wot I been writin’ can be stashed away up there,
an’ it’s like a great big chook-shed, sort of floatin’ in the air.
But I told ’im ’e could stick it where the sun don’t bloody shine,
fer no techie-wreckie chook-shed would be gettin’ words uv mine!

[Maureen K Clifford]

ROTFLMAO - that is brilliant David and as for the last stanza - well I personally have learnt a lesson from this 'puta meltdown and my work for the TAT mag is certainly going up to the chook shed in the clouds - that way if needs be other people can access it and pluck it

[warooa]

ROFL always makes me think of Scooby Doo saying "waffle"

Enjoyed the poem, David, and the set up of it.

Cheers, Marty

[Ron]

Excellent David, enjoyed it, very clever!

Ron

[Neville Briggs]

Ozzie Mandias !! Shelley meets C.J. Dennis

[Shelley Hansen]

Mmm - Neville, I must be exceptionally dull tonight. Ozzie Mandias ... "Shelley meets CJ Dennis??" You might have to enlighten me

The Puzzled Shelley.

[Neville Briggs]

Check the author of David's poem Ozymandias is the title of a very famous poem by the English poet, Percy Shelley, and David's poem here seems to be done in the phonetic vernacular style of C.J Dennis .

[David Campbell]

Spot on, Neville!

Ozymandias (by Percy Bysshe Shelley)

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".

[Shelley Hansen]

Oh dear, of course I knew that. How vain am I??? I even recited the real "Ozymandias" (one of my favourite poems) in an effort to find the clue! Definitely extra-dull tonight, Neville and David! Must be the weather!

I guess you can tell I'm still obsessed with the correction of my "a-la-CJ Dennis" poem (per post in Members' Poetry). My husband, who performs "The Poitry Competition" at our concerts, said today, "Come on dear, I need to learn the new lines!!" This is the most difficult task - like trying to alter the sketch for a painting once it has been framed under glass!!

I've spent more time on this one verse than I did on the rest of the poem. I still can't come up with the right phrases to obey all the rules and preserve the vernacular, plus nail the tone of "superiority" that Ginger Mick was apt to pull on Bill from time to time.

What was it Hemingway said: "There is nothing at all to writing. You just sit down at a typewriter and bleed!"

Cheers from the very sheepish (not Percy Bysshe) Shelley.

[Neville Briggs]

Don't beat yourself up Shelley

If it's any comfort, the American poet Elizabeth Bishop used to stick her poems up on the wall and look at them from time to time, sometimes for months until she could get just the right wording. For some poems it was only one word needed.