Phone Chinese woman

It is reported that a Chinese woman had to undergo three hours of emergency surgery after spending twenty hours glued to her mobile phone while on a packed train.

Some people use their phones a lot,
As if they were some kind of bot,
But while it’s on their ear most will,
Not stay for many minutes still.

They walk to where they’re going or,
Fill up their basket in the store;
Or if they think they need to shout,
Then they might wave their arms about.

But now in China, on a train,
Someone caused damage to her brain,
By sitting, staring at her screen,
For twenty hours – a bit extreme.

The phone was damaging her head,
And she was very nearly dead;
She staggered round, now feeling weak,
And then she found she couldn’t speak.

What was the problem? We don’t know.
She’d talked a lot for hours and so,
Had she simply run out of words?
Or is that really just absurd?

Or could she be affected by,
Phone radiation in the sky?
Again, that seems a little queer,
Though lobe and brain are fairly near.

But, in the end, the doctors said,
The reason she was almost dead,
Was that she hadn’t moved at all,
Because her space was far too small.

This caused some clotting in the brain,
Which isn’t too good in the main,
Because, as you’ll appreciate,
You’d rather not be styled ‘the late’.

But could the phone have been to blame?
She could have frozen all the same,
But phoning might move just your lips,
Or possibly your fingertips.

So when you’re on the phone take care,
Especially if seated where,
You haven’t got a lot of room –
Unless you want to meet your doom!




It is reported that Stephen Hawking has sadly died at the age of seventy-six.

Professor Hawking was well-known,
As tributes on his death have shown;
He was a genius, it’s true,
And far more so than me or you.

His theories of space and time,
Set out in prose instead of rhyme,
Were lengthy, not so very terse,
And describe the whole universe.

His book, Brief History of Time,
Was not translated into rhyme,
But many bought it nonetheless,
Though some of them would then confess,
That, as they read, try as they might,
They really struggled to get right
To the end of this book on time –
It would be easier in rhyme.

But one more thing made him stand out,
And maybe did enhance his clout,
And that is that he couldn’t walk,
He very nearly couldn’t talk,
But it seems the professor’s brain,
Was well-nigh perfect in the main.

It seems amazing, now, to me,
That he could all these insights see,
And work out the equations which,
Describe them all without a hitch,
When, whether wearing suit or gown,
He couldn’t, himself, write them down.

So his great fame is well-deserved;
Not only has he science served,
But despite all his toils and strife,
He has brought science back to life.

Image – Doug Wheller / Wikimedia commons



It is reported that a study has concluded that knitting is relaxing and lowers blood pressure, reduces depression and slows the onset of dementia etc etc etc; a cheap cure for almost anything.

If you can knit then good for you,
Because it’s now been found it’s true,
That benefits to health will flow,
As in and out your needles go.

It does relax, to say the least,
In years before you are deceased;
And your blood pressure will go down,
More so than with some other noun.

And other benefits exist,
For those who knitting can’t resist;
To note just one out of the rest:
You’re likely not to be depressed.

But maybe what is best to know,
Is as your brain starts going slow,
Dementia, which is often feared,
With knitting’s all but disappeared.

So you can argue, talk, discuss,
At home, at work or on the bus,
As long as, that is, I suppose,
You talk in verse and not in prose.

There is a problem, though, but slight,
’Cos if you’re careless then you might,
Let needles, knitting, yours, slip free,
And cause some sort of injury.

They are quite long, and they could kill,
(Like being very, very ill);
So when you use them do take care,
’Cos killing someone’s not quite fair!

But if, perhaps by some mistake,
You should some person’s life now take,
Then as they try to find the truth,
Just hope Miss Marple’s not the sleuth,
Because, where knitting is in involved,
The crime might be already solved!



It is reported that cycling regenerates the immune system and improves health, thus increasing life expectancy.

Cycling’s a type of exercise,
And pensioners, if they are wise,
Will take such exercise each day,
Because they are convinced that they,
Will withstand bugs that may be rife,
And therefore have a longer life.

They cycle up and down the hills,
The while eliminating ills,
And as they cycle round the bend,
It seems their lives might never end.

But then, upon the other side,
A lorry might come slightly wide,
And this might some of them unnerve,
Causing the bicycle to swerve.

A swerve is good, at least it might,
Avoid a crash if not a fright;
But if a wobble starts instead,
It could result in people dead.

That would be bad, for them at least,
Require the service of a priest;
But also, it would change, you see,
Their average life expectancy.

So let your watchword be, “Take care”,
When you are cycling anywhere;
If longer life’s what you intend,
Try not to wobble on the bend!


Fat man old-40138_960_720

It is reported that more and more people are too fat (or obese, to be politically correct) and the Government wants food sellers to reduce the size of their meals to no more than 600 calories.

The Government says we’re too fat,
And nothing really wrong with that;
On groceries we overspend,
And without change will meet our end.

It’s calories that are to blame,
Or kilocal (the very same),
And as we eat we ought to stay,
Below two thousand every day.

The worst offenders? Fizzy drinks.
Or so the Government now thinks.
On this point they have not been lax,
And very soon will impose tax.

And fast food outlets are not good,
They sell more kcals than they should;
So HMG will now entreat,
Them to put less in what we eat.

So helpings now will be downsized,
Six hundred calories advised;
This ought to keep our waistlines flat,
And then we will not be so fat.

If this all works, then job well done,
Excessive waistlines on the run;
But fat folk who are less agile,
Should not try the four minute mile!



It is reported that scientists in America have created human-sheep hybrids which, it is thought, might allow sheep organs to be produced with human characteristics and suitable for human transplants. Maybe this has been done before?

Transplanting surgery is where,
There seldom are bits going spare,
And patients wait a long long time,
To get an organ that will chime.

So in the USA we’re told,
Work is proceeding, but on hold,
To make supplies of organs cheap,
By cloning human bits with sheep.

The sheep bits, it’s thought, might take on,
Some human features whereupon,
They can be used for transplants and,
Won’t be rejected out of hand.

But human traits in sheep have been,
Observed upon the TV screen,
Especially, of course, I mean,
One sheep who’s made from plasticine.

His name is Shaun, of course you knew,
You’ve seen him more times that a few;
And though he is a sheep in shape,
He’s able to mimic, or ape,
A human person, maybe you,
And do just like we humans do.

So now our hero should beware,
Unless he has some bits to spare;
He is so popular, in fact,
We’d rather that he stayed intact!



It is reported that Weight Watchers is to ditch ‘before and after’ photographs which emphasise the loss of weight that can be achieved on its programmes. Instead, the company says “… our members’ journeys are so much more about then than now; a journey of health with no beginning, middle or end and we want to connect with them through it because it is the relevant and modern way”. At least people knew what fat and thin actually meant.

Weight Watchers – we all know the brand –
They put you on a diet and,
You have to take it on the chin,
If you’re fat wanting to be thin.

They tell you what and not to eat,
Explain why you should never cheat,
And to encourage you some more,
Show pictures after and before.

“Just common sense,” I hear you say,
“Most people will progress that way.
We all should not our faces stuff,
When we have really had enough.”

But now correctness rears its head,
And in this day and age it’s said,
You cannot say nor yet imply,
That those with weights that may be high,
Should want to lose weight so that they,
Might be attractive in some way.

So gone are things we understand:
Not eating food, grilled, fried or canned,
And keeping off the spuds and bread,
With salads, fruit and veg instead.

So for Weight Watchers, what to do?
They still want customers like you,
And if they can’t show a result,
Promotions will be difficult.

But, having racked their brains, now they,
Have come up with some words to say,
Which will some sort of message send,
And not be likely to offend.

They say their members are en route,
Not only pies and things en croute;
There is no ending nor a start,
So if you want to look the part,
No-one can say when that might be –
You could still look like Tweedledee.
The problem is, I’ve not a clue,
What all this means and nor have you,
But I suppose we all should cheer –
It doesn’t say you can’t have beer!