Poetry Thursday 161 - Win v Lose

 You are never too old to learn is a treatise oft repeated by my mother when I was growing up. Unfortunately, I hear myself saying the same words to anyone I can target. In fact, 'you never stop learning' may be closer to reality. 

Win v Lose

 

When we were young it was about acquiring,

talking, walking, sitting,

later we learned the glories of play,

the joy of seeing friends every day.

 

Life was about loads of gain,

opportunities to advance without too much pain,

but there is some heartfelt testing,

that can lead to some unexpected losing.

 

As life proceeds the winning becomes tougher,

opportunities for wins significantly rarer,

losing happens more frequently,

with the resulting trauma felt deeply.

 

As the days of life grow shorter,

learning remains a constant winner,

but the losses seem to occur daily,

shedding layers as skin that’s scaly.

 

The resultant gaps of missing pieces,

memorials of significant accomplices,

an indicator of increasing solitude,

silence growing in amplitude.

©David L Atkinson September 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 160 - Read! Read! Read!

 Hitler destroyed books; Trump has taken money from libraries and tried to dictate reading materials in schools. This is a very brief summation of one aspect of controlling social groups, but can be summed up further by stating that 'knowledge is power'.

Travel the world from a chair

 

A book holds a story that will never die,

it is there to entertain forever.

The story is your transport to times gone by,

or a rocket hurtling towards the future.

 

The people inside are fallible like you,

but with help may foil the danger,

or follow a path taken by few,

and perhaps find a babe in a manger!

 

You may travel the wide world from your chair,

and never leave this wonderful land.

Change your colour or perm your hair,

without the risk of wearing a new brand.

 

The sky’s the limit every time you try

the same story read a dozen times.

Let your imagination be free and fly,

in the words of stories and of rhymes.

© David L Atkinson March 2015 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 159 - Brain Power

 A simple question with a plethora of answers, few of which are wrong. How do they con people into voting for them? (Fill in the names from your own experience).

Lucy

 

If we could use more of the power

of our brains, increasingly by the hour,

would our lives be any easier,

or would existence be a little trickier?

 

Some would pay to use that much!

Their ‘off’ behaviours demonstrate such.

Knowing there is more use to be had

suggests they’re perhaps not doing too bad.

 

But then living on the Earth are those

whose brain activity is set at doze,

and allowing them to engage with us

is risky if not dangerous.

 

We all go through our lives hoping

that our bustling brains are great at coping,

and if we strive to keep them busy

we may end up as bright as Lucy.

© David L Atkinson September 2014 

God Bless

Poetry Thursday 158 - Did God Paint You?

 Another nudge in the direction of global survival. An earworm in the lugholes of big pharma, big corporations, big business, and all those who believe that they are bigger than the rest of us. 

Did God Paint You?

 

Your green is so green and petals that bright,

I wonder if I’m getting it right, 

surely cannot be an accident - did I misconstrue,

did God paint you? 

 

With wings so fine and white,

working efficiently in haphazard flight,

darting, soaring, riding thermals into the blue,

did God make you?

 

So many creatures in the world to see,

from enormous leviathan to tiniest flea,

each with an encyclopedia of behaviours to accrue,

did God design you?

 

Yet there’s one that struts upon the earth,

displaying a myriad of talents from the moment of birth,

claiming a planet stewardship they may some day rue,

should God take the blame for you?

©David L Atkinson August 2026 

God Bless 

 

Poetry Thursday 157 - Brain Fizz

 There has always been plenty of examples of older generations whining about changes that have occurred in their lifetime. It will probably always be the same. It seems this time with technology and in particular AI. 

Brain Fizz

 

It seems to me since 2023 and possibly for some time before

there is a greater incidence of brain fog and possibly much more.

It seems to me this may come from over stimulations

the need to make quick choices and more rapid accommodations.

 

It seems to me like driving a car and arriving at a junction

 not allowing oneself adequate time to make the correct decision.

It seems to me like coke shaken violently in a bottle,

brown bubbles charged ready to burst forth at full throttle.

 

It seems to me what we really need is time for thoughtful reflection,

time to weigh up pros and cons and make the right selection.

time to carefully consider the reason for our choices,

time for someone to listen to the older ones voices.

©David L Atkinson August 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 156 - Poor Kids

 It's August already. In the UK, the month that spews forth exam results mostly for 16 and 18 year olds. I remember receiving a brown envelope. I was home alone, and the dry-mouth feeling on reading that my results were inadequate for my initial applications to college. I was ok in the end. This is not an uncommon scenario and will be re-lived time and again. It still creates stress. Seven years ago Covid was an additional problem. 

Poor Kids

 

At least seven long years inside,

booby traps being part of the ride,

working as hard as you feel you can,

towards the goals that will make you a man.

 

The bully sharks are hunting intake prey,

the playground a tarmac sea of grey,

adults enormous hurdles to negotiate,

groups with whom you should not associate.

 

Subject to a myriad of others’ opinions,

just one of a tranche of newer minions,

where to fit to succeed in this place,

and become a full member of the human race.

 

Through the years one finds a slot,

it may be uncomfortable in life’s plot,

but short-lived discomfort leads to progress,

based on your examination finesse.

 

However, in 2020 along comes a virus,

catching it is in no way desirous,

school on hold for an extended period,

number of after effects a significant myriad.

 

Exams come round with every year,

regular as clockwork instilling fear,

in many of the teenage reluctant takers,

and controlled by national question writers.

Not this year due to virus attack,

children at home - efforts are slack,

but next steps in the future still there,

 will the exam establishment be aware.

 

Results Thursday came and went,

the children were sad or perhaps content,

an algorithm was applied to predicted scores,

grades were reduced causing great uproars.

 

The establishment had scored another own goal,

Ofqual regulator had failed in its role,

assuming that their solution had been correct,

resulting in many young futures wrecked. 

 

Where are the shoulders to take responsibility,

who will resign due to lack of capability?

Suddenly the talking heads spouting wise,

are no longer available irrespective of prize.

© David L Atkinson August 2020 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 155 - Twilight Zone

 As I age, I see a difference in the way people look at you and treat you. I'm not talking 'with respect' or 'contempt' it is actually closer to suspicion. They seem to be suspicious that you are going to do or say something that will require support. 

The Twilight Zone

 

Used to be tales of mystery and imagination,

 designed to thrill causing the heart to flutter,

now it’s more about causes for exclusion,

and hazards making steps that stutter.

 

Disturbing bumps in the night,

inexplicable sounds cutting through sleep,

another reason to turn on the light, 

watching the hands of the clock creep.

 

Hardly surprising when you don’t work anymore,

that sleep is no longer a priority,

  need other purposes to dip into the energy store,

while searching for life's clarity.

 

Seems sleeping light encourages dreaming,

strange dreams of people and past,

the brain not just reflecting life and living,

creating new visions on which nothing to hang fast.

 

So having moved from working situation,

to a grey transitional state,

partly evidenced by friend and relation,

we are now in some place to wait.

©David L Atkinson July 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 154 - Control

We like to think that we are in control of our own lives. People take years out to 'find' themselves, which I didn't, so it has taken a little longer for me to complete the process. The poem below should be several verses longer and may become so in the future, but I think you'll get the idea. 

Control

 

If you work hard all your life,

if you save hard for your future,

if you stay straight as a knife,

and are never an aggressor,

you may have some control.

 

If you pay all of your taxes,

refuse to fall into debt,

fit in with expected agendas,

treat others with respect,

you may have some control.

 

If you make your political choices,

and demand reasonable requests,

listen to authoritative voices,

always polite to the guests,

you will have little control.

 

If you go off to fight their wars,

suffer the outcome in silence,

knowing the choice wasn’t yours,

conned to duty in their defence,

you have no control.

 

Don’t step outside your circle,

maintain the status quo,

do nothing that’s abnormal,

stay steady as you go,

Still no control.

©David L Atkinson July 2026 

A hint of what may be possible occurred on Christmas Day 1914 

during The First World War.

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 153 - Commentators

 The World Cup will end next Sunday, Wimbledon ended last Sunday, and cricket matches have started and ended in the last week or so. Many other sports are active or have just ended in the last few days. Associated experts and commentators are temporarily, or will be, unemployed. I could give a cheer for the relief that the English language must be feeling. 

Commentators

They are there from whenever you view,

football, cricket, golf, and more,

expressing experiences from history they accrue,

experts on techniques and sporting law.

Their knowledge is frighteningly vast.

 

Formed from the retired player body,

they may have not even been the best,

believing they articulate in no way shoddy,

until viewers say, ‘C’mon give it a rest’,

Their hubris is almost boundless.

 

It was not always thus,

games were played with minimal chatter,

in ’66 Wolstenholme spoke with minimum fuss,

the game won without expert natter.

No talking heads back then.

 

It’s good to receive informed support,

but not at the expense of the action,

I enjoy the succinct sports report,

rather than nattering distraction,

Silence is golden.

©David L Atkinson June 2026 

God Bless

Poetry Thursday 152 - I Swear

 My father was a very principled man, and if he was with my mum and someone was swearing in their vicinity, he would ask them to stop, stating that there was a lady present. 

I swear

 

Cursing is a common thing

it’s linked to the emotions

it comes out when you stub your toe

or suffer other abrasions.

 

When your team does it’s best but then still loses,

or when the lights go out at home and you have no fuses,

then your language discipline goes south,

and all sorts of expletives escape your mouth.

 

 There are times when usual words don’t just cut the mustard,

you need embellished ones like apple pie with the custard,

you remember forbidden words dredged up from your youth,

that mam said made you sound vulgar and uncouth.

 

Sometimes letting rip a barrage of invective,

can, as a de-stressing tool, be remarkably effective,

but casual swearing as part of normal conversation,

is negative socialisation.

 

It happens with younger people on ego trip,

seen as an alpha sign when you let rip,

too much of the swearing makes it hard to detect,

whether or not they deserve any respect.

©David L Atkinson July 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 151 - My Precious

 The following has often been said by older humans, probably in every language in the world. However, I'm saying it again as we bid farewell to another much-loved performer, Penelope Keith. Each death reminds us older folk of our own fragile humanity. 

My Precious

 

Whoever said life is precious stated the obvious,

must’ve be running short of time,

watching grandchildren play oblivious,

observing some political pantomime,

the fact is there is only one chance in life

and every moment of it is precious.

 

Turning down opportunities is a sin,

take every chance to wear out your smile,

begin every new day with a grin,

and ensure all your activities are worthwhile.

 

Marvel at the endless beauty of nature,

do all in your power to offer it protection,

wallow in pathetic human efforts of recapture,

then look on its truth with reflection.

 

Prepare your children and extend your life,

you can’t make happiness but can provide the chance,

cut through their naughty problems as a knife,

bask in the contentment of their advance.

©David L Atkinson July 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 150 - World Cup's back

 It's back and with accompanying controversy - World Cup. Taking place across Mexico, USA and Canada in a number of different cities across the continent. 

World Cup Woes

 

In ’66 the world was ours,

nations tried to do their worst,

to defeat England using all their powers,

but they never reckoned on striker Hurst.

 

Then I was 16 the Beatles were great,

pizza, a new addition to your plate,

curry was not yet an option,

yoghurt a liquidy, puddingy concoction.

 

But at football we soared on eagles’ wings,

defeating countries with amazing skills,

enjoying what success brings,

giving supporters tangible thrills.

 

Since then there’s been ups and downs,

some promise but more flops,

fans faces full of frowns,

new players, many drops.

 

Here we are 60 years on

overcoming weaker teams again,

after barren years matches won,

is the cup ours to regain?

 

Knockout stage an undoubted lottery,

only one chance to win,

nerves definitely jittery,

who will Tuchel pick to begin?

 

The key is in our own hands,

our lads must believe,

relying on their own brand,

the dazzling crown to receive.

 

Now at 70+ music is strange,

Quinoa apparently is good food,

phones - no wires - with huge range,

winning again would be good.

©David L Atkinson June 2026 

God Bless