Inchcock Today: My Daily Battle With My Brain – In Odes

Inchcock’s Battle With His brain

In Odes

I try to recall, days when I was sensual,
Indulged in things rampantly sexual,
Although things were rather unequal,
I managed a few times, it was often bestial,
But with Grizelda, the pleasure was mutual,
Always an absolute delight, as usual,
Not once, did we tergiversate, it was lovely, mate!

I try to recall, days when I was sensual,
Indulged in things rampantly sexual,
Although things were rather unequal,
I managed a few times, it was often delightfully bestial,
But with Grizelda, the pleasure was mutual,
Always an absolute delight, as usual.
Not once, did we tergiversate, it was lovely, mate!

Yes, some memories are unshakeable,
But the memories can become unreliable,
Some memories remain clearly visible…
Even bad ones, that were loathsome and derisible…
Some get distorted, it’s sadly undeniable,
The better ones, that are so delightful…
Can, mournfully get mixed too, and that is awful!

Often things seem to be unfathomable, unlocatable,
Sometimes I can find this almost laughable…
Mostly frustration and self-loathing become forceful,
I find that vascular dementia tastes disgraceful,
I’ll sit and stew, pass wind – rather odourful…
Moping, moody, penitently, depressed and remorseful!

Suddenly, I get determined and resourceful…
I’ll write notes on the computer, paper, and get hopeful!
But forget I’ve done it, or to check; it’s pitiful…
Then I sink back to depression, and being slothful!

I seem to be stuck, with being permanently doubtful,
Worrying, fretting, failing, it makes me so miserable!
It’s difficult, wearying; not capable of being hopeful!
I don’t think I am really sour or unthoughtful…
But my plans always turn out unsuccessful,
Things happen, Accifauxpas, errors, by the shedful…
They are made by others as well, it makes me fearful,
I can’t put them right, and that is awfully stressful,
The hearing, sight, memory, stuttering are dreadful,
They stop me sorting things out, making me regretful,
Life goes on, getting more and more strifeful,
No chance of my ever regaining logic or being successful!

My fears, frustration, handicaps, are plentiful…
Always having to try to be overcareful,
This ode is turning into tattle and waffle…
Today, I’m down, and not being very subtle…
Trying to write, is a Peripheral Neuropathy caused a kerfuffle!

I suppose I could just put on the kettle?
Make a brew of Glengettie, and have a tipple?
Hello, the door chime did tinkle…
The Morrison order arrived, a cheering up signal!

I’ve got some new drinks in for Carers now, wonderful!
Suddenly, I don’t feel such a numbskull…
Ordered three beef pasties, only got one – but I’m thankful,
At least the treats for the Carers are plentiful!
I’m humming to myself now; a sign of becoming convivial?
Suddenly my problems appear more trivial!
Food and chinwags are what are essential…

Part of Inchcock’s Make Them Laugh – In Ode Series