This is my birthday
I will wear my birthday suit
I was born naked
the last time I saw my oldest sister was in 2000. She came to visit me from the U.K. She brought me a gift, which some people thought was rather odd but, something that has not only been very useful to me and has allowed me to remain connected to my roots in the city of Bristol where I was born. That gift was a book of street maps of Bristol.
It’s quite old and probably out of date however, I like to see and read posts each day about the Bristol street art scene (you can see them at Natural Adventures on WordPress). I have forgotten where a lot of the places that are posted are. So I use my old street maps guide. My sister passed away last year. What some considered an odd gift turned out to be a very thoughtful one. So much so, that I felt compelled to return the thoughtful favour by sharing it here today.
I got my inspiration for this post from a Haiku posted by scooj,naturaladventures. It was titled C2H5OH and contained three words with really jumped out at me. I thought the posting was both clever and unusual so much so in fact that I kept thinking bout it for many hours. At about 10:00p.m. yesterday evening I was reading in bed. I think I must have dozed off for a few minutes. I woke up and looked for my notepad and wrote the following:
Salvation a present possession not merely an object of hope, note: Ignatius bishop of Antioch wrote these words in ca. 167
RUINATION (an anagram)
Ruination through urination, pissing away one’s total wealth
Moderation, that happy balance between too much and not enough
At the corner, just up the street,
is a wonderful place for a wonderful treat.
No other country, no other land,
has this treat which you eat by hand.
That’s right! Your fingers get so greasy,
Try it you’ll like it because it’s easy.
Potatoes peeled and cut into sticks,
and when they’re fried we call them chips.
Cod, Halibut or Plaice and sometimes Sole,
as good as soup but, without the bowl.
We’re talking fish, serious fish.
When battered and fried it’s just delish!.
Flaky mouthfuls of fish so white,
tender and tasty at every bite.
And then we add some things thereto,
pepper and salt and malted brew;
to soak up all the fat they say.
But, actually it’s just another way,
to make this treat taste good for me,
whether it be for my lunch or tea.
I heard they throw new stuff into the frier.
Mars Bars? Ugh, you’re such a liar!
No, it’s true an idea that’s new,
Deep fried dessert, a melted goo.
Ah! no such muck will pass my lips;
Not when I’ve got fish and chips.
Written July 10th, 2000.
For the past few weeks I have been digging in my spare time for papers, packed long ago and forgotten for a few years. I did mention some time ago that years ago I had written poetry about Fish and Chips. For those of you who are from the U.K. or have visited the british Isles this will be no mystery. However, for some, this may be new. Fish and Chips used to be a staple throughout the country, until perhaps the advent of Indian “take-out”. Anyway, be that as it may, here is a short piece I found which I wrote on June 10th, 2000.
For the Brits, you may remember advertising for England’s Glory matches.
Who Invented Fish and Chips (in newspaper)
Dr. Foster went to Gloucester
for some matches ran the story.
For a certain strike and steady flame,
he asked for England’s Glory.
But that story’s old folk lore,
it was Fish and Chips he went there for.
So back to Bristol on his horse,
There were no buses then of course (not even late ones).
But, from his quest he was prevented,
because Fish and Chips had not been invented.
So to his spouse he said “Right!”
Let’s make some Fish and Chips tonight.
But how? she said, “what is this dish?”
and “what are chips that go with fish?”
“Just watch this spud” the Doctor cried,
“soon he’ll be peeled and cut and fried”
“And what about the fish, does that not matter?”
“wife get some flour and water and make some batter!”
And with this mix, just like skin,
The dead fish in hot fat learnt how to swim.
The dead fish swam around and round,
until he turned a golden brown.
Too hot to eat, so, until later,
they laid him out on last night’s paper.
The Doctor said said he could not linger,
and began to delve with just a finger.
And just to get some more,
he found it better if he used four.
And Mrs. Foster said “I need some salt,
and soured cider with some malt,
and give me pepper by the peck.
This tastes so good so what the heck?’
So here ends this fishy story.
Fish and Chips were England’s Glory!
But there is a sequel to this ryhme
I’ve pondered it from time to time.
Because, Dr. Foster did not stop there,
he went to Oz (Australia) and invented beer.