Darrell Barnes

Darrell Barnes

Labour Party 2015

A socialist leader, named Ed, made plans off the top of his head which voters ignored, so, utterly bored, they decided to stay home in bed.

Waiting

Ennui soit qui mal y pense was what Charles thought made more sense. “I’ve been waiting for years and am bored beyond tears bet you mother’s got many years hence.”

February Blues

In the midst of the February blues I thought “I’ve nothing to lose. I’ll write for the Forum which is certain to bore ‘ em ‘cos I’ve lost the wit to amuse.”

The Irrepressible Fun of Limericks

It’s clear from what’s just been penned limericks simply don’t lend themselves to be dull, full of nihil et nul, so I’ll stop. Thank goodness!

The End.

… on the other Hand

... but no-one ’s as boring as Lear: I think I should make that quite clear. What passed for his wit amused not a bit, for no-one ’s as boring as Lear.

Numbing Numbering

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, then eleven; twelve’s next on the scene, then thirteen, fourteen (some numbers are odd, some are even),

fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and then it’s nineteen, which is followed by twenty. I think that is plenty: how bored enough have you been?

If you like I could go on and on; after twenty we have twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four - let me see: twenty six - no, I must have gone wrong;

twenty-five (that’s correct), twenty-six, twenty-seven (my mind’s in a mix), twenty-eight, twenty-nine (“This man’s asinine”), then thirty is what next clicks

on the tally I keep, thirty-one, thirty-two (shall I carry on?), thirty-three, thirty-four ... “That’s enough! Please: no more! We wish you had never begun.”

You’re really no fun, saints alive! At least let me reach thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven ... “Desist! God in heaven!” ... thirty-eight, and then we arrive

at thirty-nine, after that, forty ... “Look: we’ve had quite enough! And we thought he was amusing, to boot; so let’s have a vote: shall he carry on counting? Well, ought he?”

Numbing Numbering (cont’d.)

The absence of any decision suggests I continue my mission: forty-one, forty-two, forty-four - and just who has spotted the glaring omission?

Forty-three, it’s abundantly clear, lies between those last numbers up there. Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven I’ll fix before forty-eight should appear;

forty-nine, and then we have fifty! “For God’s sake! We all get his drift: he will bore us all numb with this infinite sum can someone please stop him - and nifty?”

Numbing Numbering (Part 3)

Since no-one ’s seen fit to say “Stop!” I’ll just carry on till I drop. How short are our lives, so I’ll now count in fives bet that caught you all on the hop!

Fifty-five, sixty, let’ s guess: what’s next? Sixty-five! Nonetheless the life span of men is three score years and ten so seventy’s big, I confess.

Seventy-five and then we have eighty, a number that’ s seriously weighty; eighty ... “just hold it there! You’d best disappear if you know what’s good for you, matey!”

Numbing Numbering (The End)

Such a threat! I’m off - I could cry. No one can surely deny I’ve given my best. I’ve left out the rest of the numbers I know, so goodbye!

Blank

Blank blank blank blankity blank, Blank blank blank blankity blank; Blank blankity blank, Blank blankity blank, Blank blank blank blankity blank.

Delete!

I find that I cannot delete some posts that I’ve made. I’ m quite beat to know what’ s amiss: do please sort out this or else I shall vote with my feet.

The Cold Call

We’re sure you’re delighted to know this investment is certain to grow. This offer’s the last, so you ’ll have to move fast: we just need your bank de ... hello?

Realisation

Though I’ve tried to live life to the full, give and take a bit, and push and pull, I now realise I’ve been cut down to size: my verse is achingly dull.

A Visit to the Vet

My cat sees the vet once a year: a thermometer pushed up his rear, a jab in the neck to keep things in check, and it’s done - he’s got the all clear.

Gotcher!

If I write in invisible ink, that will make you sit up and think! ‘If we can’t read at all it’s the most boring of all the rhymes that appear in this link.’

which translates as:

If I write in invisible ink, that will make you sit up and think! “If we can’t read at all it’s the most boring of all the rhymes that appear in this link.”

PMQs

Have you ever observed PMQs? It’s when Dave and Ed each accuse the other of sloth or incompetence; both of them fail, I regret, to amuse.

The Garden Party

When meeting HM E II R she’ll ask you “have you come far? by car or by train?” So let me explain: she does this yar after yar.

The Barber

He chatters on and on without end, my Syrian hairdresser friend. He asks “is OK? some lotion? some spray? or something for the weekend?”

The Boat Race

Cambridge are simply outclassed and end up coming in last. It’s the same every year: they bring up the rear when the best of the rowers have passed.

‘Flu

I’m really not feeling too bright, coming down with the ‘flu, so I might, since I’m feeling half-dead, get back into bed, curl up and turn out the light.

Latin

Nouns of the second declension were far too many to mention; so I made it a rule to take time off school and was sentenced to extra detention.

Failure

If I cannot emulate Pope, then I fear there’s really no hope for improving my verse; so I cannot do worse than swing on the end of a rope.

The TEFL Teacher

I find it a challenge to teach non-English our patterns of speech; they all seem half dazed, their eyes appear glazed, and they’d much rather be on the beach.

The OAP Coach Party

You’ll find with these pensioners’ trips, most of them want fish and chips; a few in the group like Windsor Brown soup, but none of them leave any tips.

The Sales Department

I was speaking to someone called Jean about buying a washing machine, but you’ve put me on hold so long, I’ve grown cold. I’ ve decided I’m not very keen.

The Queen’s Birthday Parade

“Hey ho!” said the Queen; “this is when One reviews all One’s Guards once again. Is there anything duller than Trooping the Colour? but what a fine body of men!”

Dresden 13.2.45

An act of destruction that shames, the night Dresden went up in flames. In war all is fair, but thousands died there and no one remembers their names.

Islamic State

We rage through the East with the sword, a holy, all-conquering horde. Our jihad is just, so we slay in the dust all those who believe not The Word.

Ebola

The sick in Sierra Leone have wasted to mere skin and bone; their bodies leach out, and they cannot reach out for love. They die all alone.

The Missing Aircraft

Its arrival was clearly displayed with the others, all neatly arrayed in lines on the screen. But then it was seen that the flight was for ever delayed.

A Death

I held her, my arms underneath, and watched as she struggled for breath; then, with a last gasp, she let go her grasp, and in slipped the silence of death.

St Valentine’s Day

A note to the BBC’s chief: I find it beyond my belief that you think a Red Nose trumps a Valentine rose and must we have Comic Relief?

St Valentine’s Day 2

The Valentine card I adore it spoke of true love evermore; but the roses I’ve cropped, I’m afraid, for they dropped in the mess the dog left on the floor.

MSF

It seems that few people care what happens in Africa, where even angels don’t tread ‘midst the sick and the dead save Médecins sans Frontières.

A New Challenge

Rose Anderson: look what you’ve started! We must sail into waters uncharted, for these various themes need different streams lest my mind and all reason are parted.

Perhaps we should start a new thread, which groups and makes easy to read the different strands? But wait! I have plans: who knows where this venture may lead?

Inspired by this challenge’s rubric (God forbid we might appear hubric)* let’s make a movie ‘Hall Humour’ to prove we can make it ourselves without Kubrick.

* ‘Hubric’ is OE I think; with ‘hubristic’ there’s clearly a link, but monastic type setters had left out some letters for they found that they’d run out of ink.

Rose Anderson was very impressed with the fact that Darrell Barnes managed to include her entire name in a limerick: this deserved a special award.

Rose Anderson’s special award is most pleasing; so with her accord, I’ll set out to buy from Payne’s in the High the best thing that she can afford.

Dear Rose, I regret I’ve been told that George III salver’s been sold; they’ve much the same thing which is signed by the king so I’ve bought it (it’s fashioned in gold).

Dear Rose, I’ll be utterly frank: I simply don’t know how to thank your words of goodwill; if I send you the bill, can you transfer the funds to my bank?

Dearest Rose, it seems my account is now overdrawn, so I mount this petition to pay what you owe me today (it’s only a tiny amount).

... well, ten thousand pounds (if you must). I bought that salver on trust: I deeply regret you haven’t paid yet. I fear I soon may be bust.

Dear Rose, I’m afraid you’re too late: the bailiffs are now at the gate; if I open the door, they’ll come back for more. Is it fair to suffer such fate?

Challenge Conundrum

If my verse will have bored you to tears, I presume I’ll have won, it appears. If you think my verse fun, I’ll also have won an amusing bore, it appears.

There were two challenges: 1) for the most boring limerick; 2) for the limerick which manipulated the terms of the first challenge to become interesting.

Your proposal of what we should do has my consent: good for you! If I first top poll one I know I’ll have won as I will if I top poll two too.

To know I’m a bore, yet amusing is a concept I find quite confusing; do I subscribe to ennui or rejoice in folie? I suppose it’s the voters’ own choosing.

“O Rose,” as Blake said, “thou art sick, doubtless caused by having to pick of all verses the worst. Make sure you get nursed and restored to health PDQ.”