Civilisation totters, like a girl in stilettos.
In palaces and ghettos
It’s the same old game of lust.
We escape the dust
By leaving one of our kind behind.
But, after our lust
Perchance we wonder, “is humanity terminally bust?”.
As I walked home one dark Halloween
I heard a most ear piercing scream.
I said to Miss Black
“We must not look back!”.
But she’d vanished with a piercing scream!
You poured the remains of hot tea
And asked could you do
Anything else for me.
We spoke of the cost of living.
I drank my hot tea.
My hair is grey.
But, if I where to casually say
That I can be giving …
Best drink my tea
And let her think well of me.
I keep meaning to go
To the church I so
Often pass. It’s gravestones
Say, “skin and bone
Must fade away”.
So I know
I will go
To church one day.
Listening to rain
While reading poetry.
But why read poetry
When there is rain?
For there is poetry
In the rain.
—
Reading Clare
While listening to rain.
But why read Clare
For there
Is poetry in rain?
(The above is 2 versions of the same, maybe similar poem. The poem flows from me listening to the rain through my open bedroom window yesterday evening, while reading the poetry of John Clare).
A gorgeous young lady known as Katie
Has a reputation for being real matey
With well heeled gentlemen,
(Well, so says Ken).
And Ken’s wallet is really quite weighty …!
Walking through fallen leaves
In the familiar churchyard
The poet sees
The hard
Fact that all
Leaves fall.
There once was a young lady named Bland
Who was fond of the one night stand.
With a man called White
She stood there all night,
Watching the great tide sweep over the sand …!
There was a young lady named Yvette
Who was known as a Tory wet.
She opposed all cuts
And swam in waterbutts,
Which made that Tory really quite wet!
(The term “Tory wet” was used during the administrations of the late Lady Thatcher to describe those on the left of the Conservative party, whilst those on the right where labelled as “dry”. The term more commonly employed today to designate those on the left of the party is “one-nation” Tories or Conservatives).
We 2 took a shortcut through
The place of stones and bones.
I have some time to rhyme
Of a young woman who
May read this one day,
And, pondering on weathered old gravestones,
Say, “we are but clay”.
