He implores
Nails long as claws
And roars.
A tweak
With those nails
Never fails
To make him weak.
Barely able to speak
He implores
Her claws
Again.
Pleasure and pain.
Soon will come the rain.
He implores
Nails long as claws
And roars.
A tweak
With those nails
Never fails
To make him weak.
Barely able to speak
He implores
Her claws
Again.
Pleasure and pain.
Soon will come the rain.
There was a young lady called Nell
Who claimed she knew me well.
But I was spending my leisure
At Her Majesty’s pleasure
As the prison governor will tell …
I have long been a lover of the traditional and, in particular the chiming clock. My love of clocks can be seen in a number of my poems, including “My Old Clock I Wind”, which can be found in “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”. One derives a real sense of seconds passing (never to return) when listening to the ponderous tick tock of a traditional pendulum clock such as a Grandfather or Grandmother clock. As I put it in my poem “Time”, “the sickle chops and the heart will, one day, stop”.
Given my love of traditional clocks, I was sad to read an article in The Telegraph in which it is reported that analogue (traditional) clocks are being replaced in school examination halls by digital devices. As one headteacher puts it:
“Malcolm Trobe, deputy general secretary at the Association of School and College Leaders (ASCL), said youngsters have become accustomed to using digital devices.
“The current generation aren’t as good at reading the traditional clock face as older generations,” he told The Telegraph.
“They are used to seeing a digital representation of time on their phone, on their computer. Nearly everything they’ve got is digital so youngsters are just exposed to time being given digitally everywhere.” (See https://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/2018/04/24/schools-removing-analogue-clocks-exam-halls-teenagers-unable/).
I remember the excitement, as a schoolboy when a large digital clock was installed in the newly constructed school building which formed a part of the Royal School for the Blind in Liverpool, (one of the schools I attended in that great city). While other children thought the device wonderful, I was left cold and would retreat to the traditional wall mounted (pendulum) clock in another (older) part of the same school.
I can, of course see the advantages of digital devices. But, to me they lack (and always will lack) that elusive thing we call character.
(You can find “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” in the Amazon Kindle Store. “Time” can be found in my collection “Lost In The Labyrinth of My Mind”, which is also available in the Kindle store. Links to all of my books can be found here, https://newauthoronline.com/about/).
There was a young lady called Kate
Who invited me out on a date.
Her naughty friend Ming
Tied us all up with string,
Which was fun but I got home late …
There was a young lady called Ming
Who loved to dance and sing.
She sang for her friend Mack
Which caused the china to crack,
That tuneful young lady called Ming …
There was a middle-aged man called Coaker
Who owned a fearsome old poker.
When I dated his daughter
He threatened to slaughter
Me with that fearsome old poker!
There was an elderly man called Coaker
Who owned a fearsome old poker.
When I expressed my desire
To wed his daughter Moriah
He whacked me with that poker!
There was a young man called Coaker
Who was a bit of a joker.
We argued one day
And just in play
He whacked me with his poker!
There was a young man called Mark
Who fashioned a girl out of bark.
She was 10 feet tall
And he being small,
Their future was somewhat stark.
There was a young man called Mark
Who fashioned a girl out of bark.
She was the love of his life
So he took her to wife
That fortunate young man called Mark.
There was a young man called Mark
Who fashioned a girl out of bark.
Her skin it was rough
And the dating scene being tough
He married that lady of bark.
Walking home
The birds
Are content.
And me
For a while.
There was a young lady from Berlin
Who was extremely tall and thin.
She got stuck in a drain
Which caused her great pain
As she was neither out nor in …
There was a young lady from Berlin
Who’s name was Louise or Lin.
I behaved like a fool
Which led to a duel
With her brother who lived in King’s Lynn …
There was a young lady from Berlin
Who never committed a sin.
Having no vice
She went to paradise,
That boring young lady from Berlin …
In the middle of this wood
I should
Be able to forget my care.
Fresh air
Is there
And the sun is high
In the cloudless sky
Yet I …
A plane flies by,
Then another one.
Perfect silence has gone.
For modernity we yearn
Then turn
Away.
When each day
Is full
Of dull
“Opportunities” to try …
I cry
Out for the old.
One can not hold
On to the past
But when the future is vast
Supermarket aisles
(where there are no denials
And one is free
To be
Anything or anyone),
I wonder where meaning has gone.
I linger here
As thoughts drear
Contend with birdsong.
I shall go ere long
Back to the street
Where a myriad feet
Have been,
But have they seen?
The pig does merely eat and drink.
Sometimes I think
That he
Has the advantage over me.