New Comment system installed

I got fed up with problems with the Blogger.com default comment system!  Many of you just could not get past the verification system... and I do sooo want to hear your comments!!  :) 

So I've just installed a new system from IntenseDebate which I'm hoping will work better and I'd like your help testing it!

Sooo... Any comments to help me test this system will be much appreciated... thanks in advance! :)

Ashtrays are for ash

I'm sometimes accused, by occasional female visitors, of having some 'manic' habits.  Well, may be so... maybe I do have one or two.  One does develop some of these when living alone.  Not that I make any excuses and I certainly would not have it any other way.  They are MY habits... live with them (or not...).  After all, we all have them.

Here's one of my 'old chestnuts'... using ashtrays for what they were intended!

Ashtrays are for ash

Ashtrays are for ash
they’re not for other trash
They’re not for chewing gum wrappers
Or for cellophane flappers

One’s tobacco packaging
Should strictly be for banishing
In the proper bin for trash

A tea bag's not for ashtrays
forming quagmires with the ash
tea bags should be banished
In the proper bin for trash

An olive pit may find
It’s flexibly forgiven,
if one is so inclined
But rules are rules
And not just for fools

Ashtrays are for ash
oh and cigarette butts
and ne'er for other trash!

Update Sunday 10th October 2010

Following some comments on my Facebook post on 'Ashtrays are for ash'... I was errr... moved to write this 'follow up' poem on the subject.

I wish she didn’t smoke

I wish she didn’t smoke
it would be better for her health
I wish she didn’t smoke
it would be better for her wealth

But ashtrays are for ash I’ve said
but I wish I wasn’t so brash
She put her gash
and cellophane wrapper
in my ash trash
I wish I wasn’t so brash
My tongue at times can lash
I wish I was less of a snapper

She’s of a sensitive disposition
and my reaction upset her condition
she takes unkindly to admonition
and I wish she didn’t smoke

I wish she didn’t smoke
it would have held my tongue
it was really just a joke

I wish she hadn’t smoked
I might have revoked
those feelings of hurt invoked

I wish she hadn’t smoked
I may have been able to keep
those other feelings now cloaked
that still run e'er so deep!

On Anais Anais

I so enjoyed writing my little poem on Colonel Slade the other day that I thought I would have a go at another one.

'Anais Anais' recalls a recurring argument, about Cacharel's famous scent, which I had many years ago with a proverbial 'old flame'... a lovely smelling one at that... as this was her favourite perfume... and, to this day, remains one of mine too! :)

Anais Anais

One day, tenderness will move the world,
she said, it’s a slogan for Anais Anais
Mispronouncing the name, again she twirled
She insisted it’s neigh… it’s neigh… it’s neigh

It’s named after Anna’is Nin, I repeated
a feminist writer from French gay Paris
which is why the Gallic name is needed
and it’s nay Anais Anais !

A little read of Anaïs Nin on Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia, may enlighten the more curious and interested reader.

Finally, again the curious reader may also be interested and like to read this discussion, How do you pronounce "Anais" at Answerbag.com, which I offer with a certain triumphal glee! ^_^

Remembering Colonel Slade... A poem for National Poetry Day

Today is National Poetry Day!

To celebrate it... I thought I would have a go at writing a poem... something I've strangely never tried before... but here goes.

I dedicate my poem to Colonel Slade. If you have ever seen the film Scent of a Woman... you'll know who that is. If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it... it's a wonderful film, a study of a blind man who's impossible to get along with... but nevertheless a man who is a great human being... and lover of women. A man I can strongly relate to for... oh so many reasons. A man whose morals, values and strength of character one could only wish to live up to! :)

Remembering Colonel Slade

She was pottering around the kitchen,
as the late evening sun streamed in.
I watched her closely over my glasses,
assimilating unconcern.
my failing sight caught glances
a smile exchanged now and then.

Looking back... I remember Colonel Slade
Looking back... I too still smell her
still sense the texture of her hair
still sense the softness of her lips
the warmth of her breath as it wafted across mine.

Looking back is an illusion,
when sight has gone,
but the senses still retain,
the scent of a woman,
the essence of her.

"Are you listenin' to me, son?
I'm givin' ya pearls!"
Yes... I remember you Colonel Slade
She gave me pearls too
and hers will never fade!

I hope you liked it! As always... I welcome any comments... but please remember one thing... the first rule of poetry is... there ain't NO rules!! That's my disclaimer anyway!! lol ^_^