There was a young lady named Samantha
Who bought a baby pet panther.
The creature was cute
And played the flute,
And Samantha, she was a dancer.
—
There was a young lady named Samantha
Who purchased a baby pet panther.
The creature played on the flute,,
But I never reached the root,
Of what happened to that Samantha . . .
—
A young lady whose name is Samantha
Works as an erotic dancer.
When the men bother her
She gives them a glare,
So I keep well away from Samantha!
In a dream I saw
Plastic high-heels on the floor
Of a room who’s door
Stood half-open.
Something must have been spoken
For I was invited, and recall
The monotonous rise and fall,
Going nowhere
With her,
And those cheap
Plastic shoes, which keep
Me from sleep.
When a young man named More
Said, with a most terrible roar,
“Down with the aristocracy,
And down with thee!”,
I answered him with a snore.
—
When a young man named More
Said, with a most terrible roar,
“Down with the aristocracy,
And down with thee!”,
I said, “close the study door”.
A young man whose name is Gus
Went out with a succubus.
He says she was pretty
And came from his city,
But the rest he refuses to discuss.
A girl in a dress
Of red
I dreamed in bed.
And I confess
That she
Has stayed with me.
Red may scream
Danger ahead,
But ’twas merely
A dream,
Though she
Has stayed with me.
My aristocratic friend, who likes to doodle
Maintains ideas that are almost feudal,
And lives on a great estate
With my young mistress called Kate,
And an anarchistic, fat old poodle!
The hands trace
The clock’s face
Then
, Go round again.
Progress. Yes?
Or no?
The hands go
round, and round
Nymphs on pedestals
Are worshipped by fools
Who place
A pretty face
On high,
Then cry
When they
See that she
Is as he,
Merely, imperfect, clay
If a man where to say
That in some way
A former colony was better off under British rule,
Many would call him a blithering fool,
An imperialist, or worse.
I will only say
In this ineffective verse
That its all going wrong
For Hong Kong.
An interesting article in “The American Spectator” entitled “Poets and Capitalism”. The piece contains a fascinating discussion regarding why so many poets have been (and continue to be) opposed to Capitalism, and makes the point that poets have often suffered under Communist regimes and, in the end its Capitalism which enables poets to freely pursue their craft.
I agree with the thrust of the article, which is, I believe worth a read, https://spectator.org/poets-and-capitalism/
K Morris - Poet 