Christmas Is A-Coming

 

 

Christmas is a-coming

Porky’s a-getting fat,

If you are Seventh Day Adventist,

Stay away from that.

 

 

In the Moron household

A quarrel is a-brewing,

It is getting near to Christmas

And little is a-doing.

 

  

Moron wanted pork

But Simpleton refused,

She is now a Seventh Day Adventist

And pork she cannot choose.

 

But Moron was adamant

It was never like this

For pork is a definite essential

She wants him to miss.

 

So, noise broke down

All over the place,

All two shouting at one another

And in each other’s face.

 

But there was more,

She wouldn’t do a thing,

Other than take the SDA hymnal

And all day, sing.

 

  

“Simpleton,” Moron, shouted,

“But you for real?

Ever since you join the Adventist

Wifely duties fail.

 

You get real lazy

And scarcely doing a thing

And after every noise, I notice,

You begin to sing.”

 

 

“Moron,” Simpleton replied,

“You need God!

And that is all I planning to say,

That is all!”

  

“Every year before,

We celebrated Christmas

And you of all people, Simpleton,

Made a lot of fuss.

 

 

And now this year

You are trying to tell me

You are a Seventh Day Adventist

So, no festivity?

 

Not even a piece of pork

Or a little ham?

And you want me to understand

That is the plan?

 

Married all these years

And suddenly this?

No pork, no bacon and no ham,

What a miss!

 

No response, Simpleton?

Nothing to say?

At least you could quarrel and fret

Like back in the day.”

 

 

“I said too much already

And I fret my soul,

You can buy in parts like above

Or buy the pig whole.

 

I turn vegetarian

Eating chicken or lamb

With some fish, duck or turkey

But no-pork is my plan.

 

Do not bring any pork

For me to cook!

I am neither cooking nor eating it,

I’ve a different outlook.”

 

Denominations split

And religion parts ways

And for Moron and SDA Simpleton,

These are different days. 

  

Christmas is a-coming

Porky’s a-getting fat,

But Simpleton who is now Adventist

Is nothing to do with that.

 

 

“Grounds for divorce!

And this is surely one,

So, by Christmas time next year,

I Moron will be gone.”

 

 

“Be careful, Moron,

What you predict,

Before Christmas time next year,

You might exit.

 

Stewart Russell © December 8, 2025

 

Standpipe Politics with Smartie and Moron (4)

 

 

Hi Moron, wuh become o’ you?

I en see you in donkey years

And since de last time dat we talk

Another thirty-love appear.

 

Well Smartie, I went down Guyana

With a few black belly sheep

Cause I hear they doing better down dey

Cause they getting more meat.

 

Wait, wait, Moron,

What is that you say?

Wuh, if black belly sheep eating meat,

Then cows should bray.

 

Not that kind of meat, Smartie,

I meaning grass.

Down dey de grass real plentiful

And de sheep does grow fast.

 

Cause yuh know Guyana real big

And got a lot of land

So I thought I would get away from here

And work a different plan.

 

So why yuh come back here, Moron,

If down dey so good?

Yuh should o’ stan’ down in Guyana;

I really feel yuh should. 

 

  

Well Moron, since we last talk,

There was another 30-love

Cause you know back in 2018 it was like

It did come from above.

 

Judgment pon dem devils

For all the evil dey do

But I en sure dat we is all de better

Tell me, do you?

 

Smartie, I uses to tell you

That we does only change faces

And if you really examine politics,

In all o’ dum is evil traces.

 

Dum is start out real good

And mek you feel real smart

And den all of a sudden, bruggadown!

Duh does brek yuh heart.

 

When I hear bout de 30-love

I tought bout de tennis on the lawn

And den I hear somebody suh,

All de D’s gone!

 

And all I could say was,

Yuh mean dah happen again?

Not even the respectable Bishop

Could avoid de pain?

 

Cause don’t forget the PM seh

He was de party’s conscience

So wid de Bishop gone from the party,

Dah’s conscience absence.

 

  

Yes Moron, uh doan hear he,

He probably went back to de church

Cause in dey he could lick he wounds

And heal he hurts.

 

But why yuh come back

If you was doing so well?

I would o’ expect yuh to stay in Guyana

For a longer spell.

 

Well Smartie, since yuh ask,

I was forced to come back

Since uh hear black belly exportation

Run off de track.

 

How yuh mean run off de track?

Duh does go by train?

I hearing ‘bout all kinds of excuses

But that one real lame.

 

You is say by name and nature,

And that I could never change

But I will tell you something, Smartie,

You real strange. 

 

Run off de tracks is a saying

Meaning tings en going as plan

It en nuttin to do with train transportation

Fuh black belly rams.

 

Yuh see, de breeding slow down

And dey can’t export

Cause dey would deplete the numbers

And dat ain’t sport.

 

They have to build back up

And get de breeding gine again

Plus, I also read in de Barbados Today

Animal husbandry wane.

 

De young people en intrested

And it too risky

Cause all yuh want is a little bad weather

And the project is history.

 

I see whey yuh coming from

But Moron, you gine give up too

Cause food importation seem to be

The more popular view?

 

Not as long as God gih me breath

And trust me, dah is true,

I aim, God being my helper, to do

All uh can do.

 

  

Moron, I want we to end

Just like we begin

Cause you know better than most

Politics is my ting.

 

Thirty-love when you did hey,

Thirty-love when you did away,

You tink another thirty-love coming up?

Wuh you say?

 

Smartie, dis is what I tink:

Thorne will end up like Atherley

Cause Thornie cahn even win up there

In dah St. John constituency. 

 

So, just like Atherley lost

Thornie will lose too

Cause both of them change constituency

And dis is a wrong ting to do.

 

Best chance, I tell you,

Is stay wid who put in you,

Don’t change constituency or cross de floor;

Dah’s my humble view?

 

Moron, old fella, well said,

De PM got this sown up tight

And unless a few more from de BLP defect,

Any single MP will lose de fight.

 

 

 

Atherley then Thornie

And after Thornie, who next?

I must confess that I don’t have a clue

But de situation got me vex.

 

 

 

Cause we need a replacement

But I can’t see any,

The so-called DLP terribly fragmented

And is a multi-party.

 

Dah’s more support for de BLP

Thus, another thirty-nil

And uh really fed up with the BLP

Cause I had muh fill.

 

Dum is bare talk dese days

And passing nuff foolish laws

And de most vulnerable suffering so much

Duh grabbing at every straw.

 

  

So, Moron, dah is all fuh now,

You can have the last say,

Uh glad this standpipe still standing here

So we could meet today.

 

Same here, Smartie,

All de best wid de black belly sheep

And I trust somebody come up wid a plan

To feed all o’ we.

 

Stewart Russell © November 16, 2025

Simpleton

 

 

Simpleton is a moron

But then she is married to one,

Her spouse as we all know

Is Mr. Moron.

 

Married for many a year,

These two is a definite fit,

While many couples do tit-for-tat

They do tat-for-tit.

 

“What’s wrong,” you ask,

“About doing tat-for-tit?”

Well, the Morons go backwards

To come forward a bit.

 

Simpleton is the wife

And her roll she clearly knows,

Whatever her husband says to do

She is prepared to oppose.

 

Like on the wedding day

None of his family was to come

And she got away with this request

Convincing him it was dumb.

 

None of his family came

While all of hers attended

And so, her family had all the work,

And she was highly offended.

 

 

Her family did the spending

And Moron’s family was spared,

Simpleton made a huge mistake

But Moron didn’t care.

 

Oh yes, he was very dumb

But she was dumber still

And together they are the dumbest;

Dumb-dumb is their skill.

 

Like the day he was shut out,

She came out without a key

And the rain came pouring down

Boy, weren’t they silly?

 

An absurd little couple:

Both are short of stature,

So short that these two present

Only half a picture.

 

One more and I’ll be gone

Having run out of time

But I have to tell you this last one

Since it’s on my mind.

 

 

Like the last fight they had

Which Simpleton had caused

By saying she was a fool to marry him

And for a divorce she called.

 

Moron was eager to accept

Shouting that he agreed,

Suddenly, he had found a way out

And now he could be freed.

 

However, she thought it over

Noticing he was too cool;

She was Simpleton by name and nature

But she was no fool.

 

Today she is still married

With divorce not far away,

It takes two fools to make a marriage

I once heard some fool say.

 

Stewart Russell © March 21, 2025

 

Another Moronic Quarrel

 

 

Can’t get along with

Can’t get along without

But the fact they have stuck it out

Is without doubt.

 

 

Argument after argument

Quarrel after quarrel,

Where will this one end up?

Not even they can tell.

 

We need a bigger TV

We’ve outgrown this one,

Thirty-two years we have had it,

Time it was gone.

 

This is from Simpleton

Now hear Moron’s reply,

If it is not broken, don’t fix it!

With that she sighed.

 

But it’s too small, Moron

And difficult to see,

Ah, but my darling Simpleton,

Don’t blame the TV.

 

It is your spectacles

And I could wager a bet

So don’t blame the faithful TV,

Get a new set.

 

That’s what I mean, Moron,

Let us get a new TV set

And we would see everything better

And I won’t have to fret.

 

You’d still fret, my dear,

That’s your middle name

And should I give into you as always,

You’d win the game.

 

The TV shows perfect

Though just a thirteen inch

And I am sticking to my side:

I will not flinch.

 

But Moron, sweetie pie,

Pamper me, my dear,

Just take it out on hire purchase

With two years to pay.

 

All right, Simpleton,

Let me show you a fact,

This TV is bigger than all the rest

And I can prove that.

 

The TV that you’d wish,

What size television is it?

I would like a fifty-inch, Moron,

That would be a fit.

 

A fifty-inch, Simpleton!

Where did you see that?

Right here on our old television

From where I sat.

 

You saw a fifty-inch TV

On a thirteen-inch screen?

Why, in that case our TV is bigger-

Simpleton screamed.

 

It is very simple,

At least, it seems so to me

Anything would have to be smaller

To fit on our TV.

 

You are right, Moron,

I really didn’t see it so,

Anyhow, we still need a new TV

Cause a tube just blow.

 

What! A tube what?

You got to be kidding me!

Tell me the truth, Simpleton,

You mashed up the TV?

 

No, when I plugged it in

I just heard, “poof!”

It got tired carrying all that load-

That is my proof.

 

Why must a 13-inch TV

Carry a fifty-inch television?

Sooner or later, my dearest Moron,

It’d be out of commission.

 

So, buy a fifty inch

That can carry the load

And since we are now without a TV,

It’s an immediate goal.

 

A spanking new 50-inch

Stands on a TV stand

And the 13-inch TV sits on the top

As though a plan.

 

It started back working

As soon as the other arrived

And they are watched together-

Seriously, no jive.

 

Stewart Russell © August 4, 2025

 

A Costly Word

 

 

It is a costly word,

Can you guess?

Your first try has gone

It is not ‘yes’. 

 

Good try though,

Though not correct,

Yes, can be very costly

In some respects.

 

If you said ‘no’,

It’s your second try,

It’s another good guess

But must be denied.

 

Just one more try

Is all you will get,

The word I have in mind

Speaks of regret.

 

No, it is not ‘sin’

Though sin is costly,

Three strikes, you are out!

Now it’s up to me.

 

It is in the Bible

More than 1500 times,

1595 times to be exact

In the KJV kind.

 

 

It can be a warning

Or a reproach,

That is, before a behaviour

Or after we encroach.

 

 

First seen in the Bible

At Genesis 4:7,

Last cited at Revelation 22:19;

Re the Word written.

 

It can be a condition

Or a check to find out,

It is a good way to think

When in doubt.

 

It is counting the cost

Before taking a leap,

Or before full exposure

Taking a peep.

 

It is having remorse

And a wish to go back

While lamenting what’s done

That is now a fact.

 

 

Judas must have said it

One dozen times

And Jesus urged a woman

To bear it in mind.

 

A costly word indeed

And a little word too,

You’d better think it before

Is a critical clue.

 

When it comes after

It is with great regret,

Just a tiny two-letter word

But demands respect.

 

It occurs in marriage

And at the workplace,

Ignored before a behaviour,

It can bring disgrace.

 

 

And if at this time

You still have not got it,

You are either a moron

Or a dimwit.

 

Sooner or later

It will confront you,

I trust it will be line of sight

And not a rear view.

 

Stewart Russell © February 3, 2024

 

Downsized Christmas Ham

 

 

The lead up to Christmas

Was extremely interesting

At the home of Mr. and Mrs. Moron,

Especially the baking.

 

You might be wondering

Why I am saying this

Well, just follow me very closely

And the point you won’t miss.

 

 

Every year Mr. Moron

Would buy a big ham,

To have a lot of ham for Christmas

Was always his plan.

 

But for some reason

His plan wouldn’t work out

And much of the Christmas ham

Was thrown out.

 

 

 

Mrs. Moron was the one

Who dealt with the ham

And clearly by now you should see

Her plan was not his plan.

 

Nothing new here,

I can tell you for a fact

For if you truly know the Morons

You’d see it in their chat.

 

Year after year

Mr. Moron would let it ride

But he decided this time around

He would stem the tide.

 

 

“Every year I buy a ham

And before you bake it

You does throw away some

As an annual habit”

 

To me, Simpleton,

Dat don’t make sense

And I am letting you know

I taking offense.

 

Why do you do dis?

Are you mad?

And if it was only a little bit

It won’t be so bad.”

 

 

“Well Moron,” she replied,

“I see my mother do it

And she uses to take off a lot

Not just a little bit.

 

I ask she one day

And she couldn’t tell me why,

She mother before she did it

And she didn’t even try.

 

That was de practice

Handed down to she

And as a good parent like she mother

She hand down it to me.”

 

 

“Whuh, I so sorry

That I en ask this before,

From now on I dun buying big hams

Anymore.

 

Cause it en mek no sense

Trowing away all o’ dat ham,

Dat to my way of tinking

Is not a good plan.”

 

 

“But Moron,

It ain’t ‘bout de size o’ de ham,

It is de tradition passed down

From my gran-gran.

 

And you see de little girl

Dat we got dey?

She gine have to do it too

Cause dat is de way”

 

 

And with that

Simpleton cuts off the ham,

Compliments of de culture

And her gran-gran.

 

When ovens were small

And hams wouldn’t hold

The ham had to be trimmed

Is what I was told.

 

Pass this on

To people who don’t know,

Begin with the Morons

But take it slow.

 

Stewart Russell © December 16, 2024