They speak dollar
(For ‘black’ read ‘no’)
And the fundamentalist fringe
Has broadened to the centre.
There’s opportunity
For all (spelt ‘some’).
Here the surreal is for real
And Nostalgiasaurus – Rex!
The U S of A
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Monthly Archives: September 2015
Hubris
If it is true
That we are just
A hormone stew,
Then say ‘I lust’
And not ‘I woo’.
If also true
That love is just
Cerebral goo,
Then say ‘I must’
And not ‘I do’.
So, all we do
From dust to dust
Is fixed? Says who?
Take it on trust,
I – do – love – you.
Playing safe or getting rhymes for Christmas
English, French or Spanish,
Words are incurably clannish.
We only feel safe in sentences,
And give each other nuances
For Christmas.
Why be an exclamation?
Risk misinterpretation?
No – find a nice conjunction
To hold your hand and function
As an isthmus.
A trendy new anthology
We shun with no apology.
So its by some sort of savant?
Dicey – and I bet we haven’t
Missed much.
Bloody Numbers
A cancer of Kalashnikovs
To take a thousand lives,
With a callousness of cartridges
A thousand weeping wives.
A murder of machetes,
A vipers-nest of knives,
And the babies rot unburied
While the devil’s foundry thrives.
He works not far from Basingstoke
Northampton and St. Ives.
He’s one of us, you understand,
Plays rugger – good at fives,
Gives to the church at Easter
Replants divots when he drives.
So, for England, he will see that
Every killing field survives.
The Sedge
A sedge is hard to spot.
As likely as not,
You’ll think its grass.
Many simply pass
Them by unseen
Because they’re green.
Small fountains of leaves
Like little sheaves,
Each pendant ear
Can hardly clear
The sward – concealed
In an open field.
Some take it for a reed
Where, willow-treed,
A forest pool,
Covert and cool,
Entices sedges
To its edges.
Not quite like a rush
(Not so much bush
As porcupine)
But more refined,
Less of a spike –
More lady-like.
On undulating dunes
Their curving runes
Wind Indian-file
On hostile soil.
Each roped to each
Abseils the beach.
From where the spring tides surge
To roadside verge;
Bogs and boulders
To hard shoulders;
Wherever veg. is –
You’ll find sedges!
Flea-flowered Bohemian
Star Carnation
Hairy Fingered Dwarf.
You’ve got to laugh –
Such names! They say,
“Don’t call us ‘hay’!”
Herons
Herons never rush.
They doze on the wing
And side-slip,
Dreaming of grayling
Where willows dip
In the evening hush.
Herons seldom miss.
Into parallax
And 3-D,
Their rapier attacks
Cleave obliquely –
Plant the deadly kiss.
Herons nest in trees.
Teetering on twigs,
They unfish
For scrawny young sprigs,
Then rise and swish
Lazy on the breeze.
Arran
Tall cliffs towering
Greensward gleaming
Orchids flowering
Streamlets streaming.
High sun ruling
Blue skies blowing
Dolphins schooling
Blue seas flowing.
Seals cavorting
Gannets stooping
Jackdaws courting
Swallows swooping.
Waves uncurling
Pebbles hissing
Ebb-tide swirling
I am missing
You.
A Week Alone (2)
I have seven days to kill
With second order things. A thrill
Of inner longing will
Envelope me should I stand still
And think of you. I’ll fill
Each vacant second full until ……
A week Alone (1)
I know the hours will pass and I shall do
A hundred things with half of me.
The rest will be a hundred miles away
And occupied unceasingly with you.
Suicide
I was born here,
Innocent and unaware.
I saw only carefully painted scenery,
Not the real void beyond.
Though no-one knew it then,
I had come to live
Too close to the big questions of life.
And now that the scenery has been shifted,
The truth of the silent void –
Draws me.