Tag Archives: poems

The Call Of The Sirens

The Sirens sang to Odysseus in Homer’s tale.
Lashed to the mast he did not fail
To resist their fatal call.
Should I listen to their song
I would fall
Eere long
And be lost among Hades ghostly throng.

My future may be as my past
For there is none to tie me to the mast.
The Sirens sing
And bring
A brief
Relief
From grief.
Yet the wise know
That their song signifies nought but woe.

Mass Murderers Both

Yesterday evening I bumped into an old acquaintance in the pub. Our conversation ranged far and wide and at one point touched on the atrocities perpetrated by Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin. There was some discussion as to which dictator was the worst criminal, with my acquaintance maintaining that Stalin was the greater due to him having murdered around 20 million of his own people. My view of the matter is set-out in my poem, “Hitler and Stalin” which first appeared here some time ago:

The Gulag.
The present like the past is mad.
Black clad figures
Their fingers on triggers.
Russian or Prussian?
An interesting discussion.
Jews and Kulaks their lives lose.
Who to choose?
A man drowning in his country’s blood,
Or one who would destroy Jewry if he could?
What a choice.
History’s voice
is cold and level,
“We allied with the devil,
To destroy his twin,
the mirror image of him.
The world is a better place
But a nasty taste
Still lingers.
Man has burned his fingers,
To often,
History’s lessons are easily forgotten”.

There Was A Young Lady Named Claire

There was a young lady named Claire
Who visited the wolf in his lair.
Without bothering to phone
She went there alone.
There was a young lady named Claire …

The Writer’s Pen

You accuse me of hiding in my ivory tower.
I answer that I have no power,
Other than my pen
Which when
It scratches
Sometimes catches
The truth of the matter,
Causing the fine porcelain
Of your ideals to shatter,
Revealing the stain
Called human nature.
For each man is a prater
And the writer’s pen
Can interpret the hearts of men.