PSEUDO!

 

SIGNATURE REFRESH

Photo credit: Pixabay via Pexels

This form from the council came today,

‘Signature refresh’ the header says,

For the postal vote, they must make sure

I write my name in the same old ways.

So I sign their box, but it makes me think

Of the way my signature has slipped

From the crisp italic I learned in school,

To scribbly illegible spider script.

Like when you sign for delivery folks,

On that box with its screen and bleeping sound,

The stylus won’t work, so your finger must serve

To claim your parcel they’ve carted round.

You point and wiggle and try to oblige,

You make that joke you always make,

It bears no resemblance to your name,

Very easy to laugh at, and easier to fake.

If the tiny stylus is still attached,

By its little lanyard an inch too short,

I always by accident press something wrong

So must sign ten times for the stuff I’ve bought.

We don’t get the practice we used to get,

Fewer sign a cheque when they bank online

So I sigh and I sign, I sign and I sigh,

(And I didn’t add kisses, so it's gone just fine!)

MANY UNHAPPY TAX RETURNS

MANY UNHAPPY TAX RETURNS

I'm finding little jobs to do

I'm fettling and dusting

I'm whirling like a whirly thing

OCD fluster and fussing

I can't just chill and meditate,

I simply can't relax

At least my bowels stay open

When it's time to do my tax.

Some put it off till deadline day

When January's through

But me, I start my whittling

Ages before it's due.

I could've should've done it then,

It only takes a minute.

But each year I procrastinate

Too anxious to begin it.

It's not like I have property,

A spouse or fancy car,

I've just a tiny pension

And that doesn't go so far.

I vow every time not to worry,

Mine's never that complicated.

Then here I am shivering with dread and doom,

Wondering why I waited!

But still I always put it off,

Daily it haunts my mind,

Like a gremlin, ghost or gargoyle

That I just can't leave behind.

Come on, why not just do it?

Be mistress of your fear,

For the day it's filed and over

Is the highlight of my year!

Shall I just iron those curtains, now?

Should I just polish that key?

Anything has to be preferable

To the ruddy HMRC.

Think of those multi-millionaires

Avoiding their tax for years!

Yet here am I, cowering with bitten nails,

Nightmares and jittery fears!

So I'll gather my dockets and chitties,

My P60 and statements and such.

They say that tax shouldn't be taxing,

But it taxes yours truly too much!

(Written while trying to file online and constantly getting “Sorry, there was a problem handling your request. Please try again shortly.”)

NIGHT LIGHTS

Stargazers, Moon watchers, insomniacs and anyone living city or suburban life these days will relate to my tongue-in-cheek poet photographer's rant on modern light pollution! Hope this brings you a smile!

I'm NOT a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie world!

Was just going to throw this catalogue (should that be cata-lol-ogue?) advertising clerical gear in the recycling bag when I saw this photo again and had to share:



I guess it's pretty much par for the course in "forward" churchy thinking, but seriously? Blue for a boy and pink for a girl (with icky sweet shorty-short sleeves)? In the 21st century, what were they thinking?

OK, so yes, I do own and wear a pink clerical. Yes with short sleeves. In fact I still have the ones I've had since I was ordained in 1999, made before I was a probationer c1996, hand-stitched by a company in Yorkshire and made to last!

But I also have a blue one. And a yellow one. And a green one, several black ones and one of a weird washed-out shade that was dyed like that accidentally when my washing machine broke and the shirt found itself unexpectedly stewing for hours with non-colourfast band t-shirts, socks and other more colourful fabrics!


This photo made me laugh. One of those slightly manic, others-might-despair sort of laughs. Nice shirts, though, no doubt. Just saying. Suppose we should just be grateful to be pictured at all! 


On the same theme, this wonderful photo that's been doing the rounds of the Facebook-Tumblr-Twitter-sphere. You've probably seen it by now. It's an advert for Body Shop challenging society's idea of ideal female beauty and perfection. It's powerful and so spot-on. 

Sadly, the advert was apparently banned when Barbie INC, who own the rights to the Barbie imagery, decided it didn't reflect well on them. That's why it's now being shared and reblogged all over the social networks to stop the usual "pretty in pink" message being the only one getting across to vulnerable men and women who feel pressurised to conform to society's phoney norms.


To misquote the lyrics of Aqua's European hit "Barbie Girl":


'I'm NOT a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world,
Wrapped in plastic, it's NOT fantastic.'


It won't be fantastic, till we all learn to value everybody for who they are, just as they are, and give each other a little respect. Not damaging each other with stereotypes, labels and unhelpful nonsense pushing people into 'little boxes made of ticky-tacky and they all look just the same' (Malvina Reynolds, lyrics to "Little Boxes" a hit for Pete Seeger in 1963).

Rant over. Pink shirt alongside the blue in the closet.