Speccie Proverbial by 25 September
 

No. 2817 proverbial wisdom?

You are invited to provide a poem, in the manner of Harry Graham’s Perverted Proverbs, questioning the wisdom of a popular proverb (maximum 16 lines). Please email entries, wherever possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 25 September.

Everybody Loves a Lover

Everybody loves a lover.
No they don't. A lover's horrid.
Take a lover. You discover
Feelings sweaty, foetid, florid,
Breathless, hypertense and torrid
From your toenails to your forehead.,
And you act like you were plastered
Every time you see the bastard.

Love a lover? Kiss my bottom
And a lover's kisses smother.
Lovers are like fleas. You got 'em?
Best you learn to love another.
Love your father, love your mother,
Love your sister, love your brother,
Love your ferret, love your rabbit,
But a lover? Break the habit.

.

Proverb – Two heads are better than one.

Is it not true, and customary,
opinions can be quite contrary?
In my experience, yes, very!

When one heads right, the other left goes;
if one says yes, the other no-no’s;
what one concludes, the other vetoes.

It’s hard to find who, cavalierly,
reneges on what he holds most dearly,
and so I ask you all, sincerely:

Are two heads really best deciding,
or do they end up by colliding
and arguing, haranguing, chiding?

The question is resolved quite calmly
by making sure there’s only one she*
determining the rules of thumb: me!

*For male reference, this word can be duly truncated to he.


P.S. I "love" yours, John!

An afterthought - unlock The Poet's Curse!

Thank you, Lois. And your is neat. I would if I knew how to. Perhaps someone who does will oblige.

‘A woman's work is never done’-
What rot, my mum’s retired.
In fact she quit at sixty-one,
Before it was required.

You shake your head and knit your brow.
That isn’t what you mean.
I know, you say, that even now
She has to cook and clean.

That may be so, but scrubbing hobs
And organising food,
Can hardly be described as jobs
She never sees conclude.

Far from it-every night they cease
When she goes up to bed,
And she will have eternal peace
From drudgery when dead.

Children Should be Seen and not Heard
 

In days of Doctor Spock and Eisenhower,
Benign neglect of children was in flower.
The common way, back then, to raise a kid
Involved ignoring what we said or did.

All summer, we were sent outside to play,
Remaining there until the end of day.
Our evening tales, of what we’d done and seen
Dismissed; unless we used a word obscene.

The outrage of my mother was incurred
If I told her I had stepped upon a turd.
And likewise, dad would scold my little sis
If she mentioned that the puppy took a piss.

And, was my older brother out of luck,
When he exclaimed, “The garbage man said f* * k!”.
We boomer babes were seen but seldom heard,
Until we vocalized a naughty word.

A drawing pin is far too small
To scare off a venomous snake.
I’ve tried-it doesn’t work at all.
Don’t go and repeat my mistake.

Nor will that spike it boasts rebuff
A mugger, I’m sorry to say.
It simply isn’t long enough
To hold an assailant at bay.

That round bit at the other end
Won’t keep any rain off your head.
I’d really have to recommend
You buy an umbrella instead.

I’m wet and skint and badly hurt-
My anguish and pain are immense.
I wonder why some folk assert
A tack’s the best form of defence?

So it's puns is the game, is it, Rob? I'll have to chew on that. Did you know what writing this &&&&&&&&&&&& on a piece of paper will illuminate the house? And why is that?

Is that a riddle, John, or are you having an LSD flashback?

If the former, pray tell.