I heard Thor roar
In the wood.
But no rain came.
Civilisation has withstood
The wind and rain.
But climates change
In the Wood
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Tag Archives: civilisation
Civilisation
Walking through these sweet scented leaves
I know autumn has come.
A solitary bird
Sings somewhere in the cool air.
While outside these sheltering trees
Civilisation goes on
And a few solitary birds
Sing their song
Of empires long since gone.
Civilisation
A lightning flash
The splash
Of urban rain.
The roar
Of Thor
In London town.
Civilisation goes down
In fire
And rain.
The Rain Came Fast
The rain came fast,
But failed to last.
Our great civilisation came.
And rain will remain.
They Found, in Old Pompeii
They found, in old Pompeii
The ruins of brothels.
What will they say
When they find the remains
Of our passing day?
A Cold, Sharp Bark
A cold, sharp bark
Pearces the dark,
Interrupting a thought
I really ought
Not to indulge in,
Of women
And sin.
In the city
Those who are witty
Say, in fun,
“Civilisation is done”.
Whilst, in the dark
A fox’s bark
Sounds near, and clear.
The Bells of All Saints
What do the bells of All Saints say
On this cold spring day?
Is it “repent?”
Or a lament,
A sighing
For a civilisation that is dying?
I can not say.
—
The above poem was inspired by me hearing the bells of All Saints Church, as I passed through the churchyard on the morning of Sunday 5th May 2019). You can find All Saints Upper Norwood here, http://www.allsaintsuppernorwood.co.uk/).
The White Cliffs of Dover May Remain
The white cliffs of Dover may remain
Though the express train
Negotiates a perilous ledge.
Or over the edge
We may go
Though ignorant armies say, “below
Lies salvation
For the nation”.
I shall read Arnold’s “Dover Beach”
And think on bad
Faith
And mad
Men
Civilisation
Had I the money, I would withdraw
From the world’s incessant roar
And wait in my gated home
For civilisation to be as Rome.
But no,
Perhaps we can avoid a collapse
And the roar
Will go
On as before.
I can not capture this sense of dissociation
I can not capture this sense of dissociation
Reflected in campfires
Of shop windows that blaze.
Walking home
I remember Rome
And see wolves waiting
For the camp’s lights to go out
K Morris - Poet 