Inchcock Questions His Life: In rhyme?

Sad and depressed Inchcock thought with Venom and Zest about his life – In Rhyme!

Why when born his mother wanted to him disown?

Why so ugly, and doesn’t he know the meaning of homophone?

Why at five into the canal he was intimidatingly thrown?

Why is he so naturally accident-prone?

Why Mummy ran away leaving him and Dad alone?

Why his bother went into the army, his sister went off to Rome?

Why in later years he never tried methadone?

Why his Dad always refused to buy him a gramophone?

Why he didn’t what was a pheromone?

Why his deafness made other folk tut and groan?

Why did like the sound of the clarinet and saxophone?

Despite his musical ignorance he seemed to like the tone,

Why he never got fed food that was home grown?

Why he didn’t realise he’d no garden just grey stones?

Why his falling in love Cupid had to postpone?

Why he did he not understand this thing about the the ozone?

Why didn’t he like tripe, cow-heel and any currant scone?

Why was it him that always grazed his shin-bone?

Why did he look like a weasel and not Stallone?

Why others used him as a stepping stone?

Why was he short on testosterone?

Why for misery he’d make a perfect cicerone?

Why he had no cash, pounds dollars or krone?

Why for morbidity and depression he’d become best-known?

Why, how had he become the perfect boring drone?

Why he had become pathetic and he hadn’t known?

Why was he no longer the girl-pulling cyclone?

Why is he in pain from knees fingers shoulders & hipbone?

Why could he not have realised and foreknown?

Why can he not resist a chunter and miserable groan?

Why doesn’t he swear like others instead he says, I’ll be blown?

Why self-survival skills the idiot couldn’t hone?

Why when deaf does he have an old basic mobile phone?

Why does he live a solitary zombie like life alone?

Why has his maturity just never grown?

Why in an aeroplane has he never flown?

Why is he a wimp without any back-bone?

Why does he think he’ll one day be well known?

Like Galileo, but Inchy will remain forever unknown,

Why he isn’t destined to fame or to sit on the throne,

Why has he never tried and tasted zabaglione?

Why his emissions of wind are so very well known?

Why for his passed failures he cannot atone?

Why confidence and ability he does not own?

Why he fears reincarnation or someone making of him a clone?

Why he lacks social skills and has no backbone?

Why he seeks a social outlet microphone?

Why he wants someone to adopt him or take him on loan?

Why they keep attaching him to an osteophone?

Why cyclist on pavements he just cannot condone?

Why he’s cheered up now is not known…

Yes it is, BT Internet’s back working & he’s on his WordPress Zone!!!

By Inchie

78 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Mechanical ticker valve, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Stephany, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis, FND, ... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Diabetes 2, Leg-Ulcer-Ulrich, Cartilage Chloe & Carole and am flat-bound. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!

View all of Inchie's posts.

5 comments

mikesteeden – An aging old fool devoid of common sense and incapable of changing a light bulb. A ‘lefty’ at heart; an atheist by nature; I have no desire to be taken seriously! Certain quotes seem to sum me up I think! 'If its got a face I don't eat it!' - Paul McCartney 'Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?' - Douglas Adams (1952-2001) 'I almost cared' - No recollection of who said this! 'Man created God in his own image' - as above. 'UKIP if you want to; I'm staying awake' - one of mine!

mikesteeden says:

08/02/2015 at 14:38

Betjeman eat your heart out!

Reply
1. Inchy – Nottingham. UK. – 78 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Mechanical ticker valve, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Stephany, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis, FND, ... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Diabetes 2, Leg-Ulcer-Ulrich, Cartilage Chloe & Carole and am flat-bound. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
  
  Inchcock says:
  
  08/02/2015 at 14:50
  
  Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy,
  White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress,
  Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery
  Soap scented fingers I long to caress…
  Sorry got carried away there.
  Cheers Mike.
  
  Reply
Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.

Marissa Bergen says:

08/02/2015 at 14:43

Is it any wonder he’s ended up alone?
Why don’t they just put him in a group home?

Reply
1. Inchy – Nottingham. UK. – 78 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Mechanical ticker valve, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Stephany, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis, FND, ... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Diabetes 2, Leg-Ulcer-Ulrich, Cartilage Chloe & Carole and am flat-bound. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
  
  Inchcock says:
  
  08/02/2015 at 14:51
  
  It’s the other residents Marissa – they wont ‘ave him on the grounds of health & safety and local Lunacy laws yer see…
  
  Reply
  1. Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.
    
    Marissa Bergen says:
    
    08/02/2015 at 15:01
    
    Oh, that explains it!