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Stairway To Leaven

Good day friends and whoever else. Apologies it’s taken me so long to waste more of your time. My amateur’s badger wrestling wrangler conglomerate is going, as expected, very poorly. The badgers can’t seem to grasp the finer points of blade work, let alone the graceful nuance of the sabre and the wranglers all have rabies. Cretinous Rodentia.

If you’re still here and unaffected by photophobia please enjoy the following non-badger centered composition. I suppose that means there could still be badgers at some point just not as a central theme. There are no badgers.



“Stairway to Leaven”, September 14, 2020.

Mounting a cosmic staircase 

Cutting burdens asunder 

The climb’s eternal embrace 

Steeped in dread and wonder 

Decreasingly weary pace 

Emboldens full ascension  

Swiftly transforming to race 

Surging to new dimension  

Interpreting realm’s design 

Flickering before our eyes 

Forward momentum resign 

Sever last earthen ties 

Beyond such trifling matters  

Wretched misery and joys 

Madness like flocks of hatters 

Classic convivial ploy 

Emptiness is surely strange   

How it’s still very crowded 

Naive to’ve expected change 

From fate purposely shrouded

Phantom cake’s indeed a lie 

All may have and still eat too 

Apple of our very eye 

So convinced of all we knew. 

————————————————————————————————————————————————-A couple segments I enjoyed, climb’s vs. climes and steeped vs. steep, English is neat. THE English pale in comparison. As they are/ do to most things. It’s their climes, too much drizzle not enough sizzle. That’s not an expression but maybe should be. For the record, I’m both mostly English and unusually pale so don’t @ me, eh?

Fantastic, the badgers have discovered their sword play abilities, breaking through my crew’s rudimentary shield wall and I must therefore flee. Turns out the rabid make unreliable employees, live and learn. I thought the labour cost savings from no water breaks would add up more over time. Foiled again.

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: original poetry writing

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A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.

7 replies

  1. I have also seen no badgers, although there are traces…
    Your humour seems to have a irony of British proportion, I’m wondering who your major influences are? I smell Monty Python, but that’s my generation. Tell me who you admire and/or credit as an influencer to your funny bone. In addition to badgers, obv!

    Liked by 1 person

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