Tag Archives: satire

If I Where A Rentier

If I where a rentier living off capital
(The very idea is laughable)!
I would retire to the moors
(with other bores)
And shoot peasants
Yes, I think that would be pleasant …!

I would terrorise the local wenches
And build high fences
To keep at bay
Those intent on stealing my wealth away.

Huge parties I would throw
And my reputation for debauchery would grow.
The vicar would pray
Lest I give his secret away
While the bishop’s innocent daughter
Would, like a lamb to the slaughter …

But I am no collector of dividends
And my efforts bend
To writing verse
Which, growing worse and worse
Will, I fear, not fill my purse …!

How to Promote Your Books

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Free Image Licensed from 123RF Stock Photo – Copyright amasterpics123

How best to promote one’s literary masterpiece, is an issue which exercises the mind of many an author, including my own. In the spirit of reaching out to my fellow authors I thought it was high time for me to set out my thoughts on this most important of topics. Below are some suggestions which will, I hope prove helpful to those who labour over smoking hot keyboards:

1. Climb Nelson’s column and recite passages, from your books with the aid of a loud hailer from that vantage point. You will, no doubt attract a crowd of curious onlookers together with a fair quantity of pigeon droppings for Trafalgar Square is a magnet to which our feathered friends flock. If it’s a nice sunny day you might also wish to don colourful swimming attire thereby further delighting the audience who will be listening, with rapt attention to your every word.
2. Hide behind the bookshelves in W. H. Smiths or some other purveyor of books and jump out on potential readers shouting at the top of your voice, “buy my book, buy my book” and if they are so ungracious as to refuse to avail themselves of your literary masterpiece, belabour them around the head with a copy of same.
3. Remove other authors books from the shelves in public libraries (for they are mere dross when compared to your scribblings) and replace their works wwith copies of your worthy tomes.
4. When talking to potential dates, regail them with chapter and verse as to why they should purchase your books. I find it helps to back them into a corner and (if at all possible) to ensure there is no easy means of exit. You may well not find the love of your life by employing such a stratagem. However your ex date will, very probably buy your book in order to effect his/her escape!
5. Send out automated tweets, every 5 seconds or so saying “please, please, please buy my book”. Your Twitter followers will be so impressed with your efforts they will show their appreciation by purchasing your book in droves or, just possibly deserting you in droves …!
6. If all else fails, repeat and repeat again!

The Lady and the Rake

“Sir you are a rake
And shouldst forsake
This life driven by desire,
For the fire
Down below is hot
And old Nick has got
A demon waiting
Especially for you.
Believe me sir, ‘tis true”!

“Lady cease your prating
For although the truth you may be stating
The devil is below
And you and I may go
A-maying.
Oh just one kiss
And I will be drowning in bliss.
Why, madam are you not a-staying …!”.

Fleecem and Proper

Said store owner Fleecem, to his assistant Proper
This metal here, it is but copper
But to the unwary shopper
‘Twill pass for gold
Let us be bold
And fleece ‘Em proper”!

But old Bill
The local copper
Nabbed those two, Fleecem and Proper!

Ere We Die

On seeing the stormy sky
The poet thinks “man must die”.
He sees the young girl bloom
And says “she is destined for the tomb”.
Oh let us gather wild flowers
And not waste our powers
Trapped in ivory towers.
Beware the scholar’s domed head
For we are soon dead.
May our spirit fly
Ere we die
And are lost in endless sky.

Family Life

The hoary

old Tory

finds glory

in the upper house.

his socialist spouse

drinks champagne

and cudgels her brains

about the renationalisation of trains.

Their Communist girl

Her head in an idealistic whirl

Buys expensive clothes

For she knows

That money on ancient trees grows.

And so the world goes!

 

 

Aesop’s Fables

Waiters at tables,

hear fabulous fables.

Wine turns to water,

shehe is his daughter?

They don’t look alike,

perhaps it’s the light?

They prefer it so,

the lamp turned low.

Hey ho,

Couples come and go,

Discussing Aesop’s fables,

With those who wait at tables.

 

 

Love’s Young Dream

Her feet beat

To the music of the street.

Perfume sweet,

Makes him weak.

He would die,

For one look from those azure eyes.

Oh for a taste of those ruby red lips,

His heart skips,

As her fingers she slips,

Into his hand.

Breathlessly he waits for her command,

“I needs some grub.

Lets go to pub.

Bloke pays”.

She says,

Employing her feminine ways!