There is a frame of mind
that says “leave as you find.
Let the great oak alone
and spare the ancient stone
for they serve a purpose
if one looks beneath the surface
of things”.
Others bring
to bare a mind
which no beauty doth find
in oak and stone
“for they stand in the way
Of a brighter day”.
“But if you pull the tree down
what then supports the ground?
For the roots go deep
and people weep
when the oak falls
on ancient halls”.
“Let us wield the axe and be glad
for the old ways are bad.
New seed we will sow
The past must go”.
They are arguing still
As the sun sinks
o’er vale and hill.
Tag Archives: the past
Modernity
Give me something real
Not this plastic I feel.
Give me books in cloth boards
That I may not be bored.
Give me a chime
To measure time.
Give me solid wood
To caress and love.
Give me objects that last
A link to the past.
The world moves fast
Vast
Nothingness beccons.
Enumerable seconds
engaged
In rage
Against the gleam
Of the machine
That haunts my dream.
No Tower Fell
No tower fell
And the hangman’s bell
Failed to knell.
The passage of time
Obfuscates crime.
Was a line crossed
And morality tossed
asunder?
Did plunder
Take place?
Disgrace
Waits in the wings.
Things
Are not forgotten
And often
The deeds we sow
Flower in woe.
School Days
Distance blurs memories. A small hut in the school playground. Me, alone listening to the rain. Half content in my solitude but fearing/hoping they will come.
Did I believe that I would be collected by the teachers or was it a clever ruze to get the other pupils to go away, leave me to the rain and solitude?
Never part of the collective whole, the herd of boys and girls. I sought the solitary hut but yet was half in love with the clamour of the playground. To belong, to be part of the happy mass. Drawn to the multitude and yet repelled by it. Wanting to belong but knowing the difference, the chasm which separated us.
Where you happy my peers, shouting and playing in the great playground? I played also, pushing the big metal truck. It stopped suddenly, the sharp edge cut my right shin, the scar is with me still. Yes I played but, try as I might was never truly one of you. Did I want to be? Yes, no, perhaps. I am confused, bemused memories play tricks distance befuddles my recollection of the past.
The Path
A sun dappled path, leading back into the past. Losing myself amongst the green, half reality, part dream. At one with the trees, yearning to be free, to escape the hate, before it is too late.
The Rebirth Of Crystal Palace?
Today’s Daily Mail carries an article concerning the possible rebuilding of the Crystal Palace which was destroyed by fire in 1936. I live some 25 minutes walk from Crystal Palace park which contains the ruins of the Crystal Palace, consequently I was interested to learn of the plans of a Chinese billionaire to reconstruct the glass structure.
Today Crystal Palace is a wonderful place in which to enjoy a walk with it’s lush green grass (well perhaps not so verdant at this time of year), the lake with it’s wild fowl and the sports centre for those possessing the spirit of adventure. Watch out for the dinosaurs though which lurk by the lake ready to pounce on the unwary!
For the article please visit http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2378752/Crystal-Palace-reconstructed-billionaire-Chinese-property-developer-nearly-80-years-destroyed-fire.html