Poetry

[dixiedean]

On 10 February 2019 at 00:17, Wiltshire Rhino said:

My favourite poet - Mr Robert Zimmerman 

 

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.

Yep. Although I would argue that is not in the Nobel Laureate s top 100 works.

[dixiedean]

On 23 February 2019 at 09:25, Griff9of13 said:

Went to see the Bard of Salford, Dr John Cooper Clarke last night. I'd like to reproduce the highlight of the evening here, but the forum's sweary filter would reduce it to a post of #'s!

 

Burnley is the very essence of the M62 attitude. Except that he don't never want to go to Keighley.

What would he make of Toronto?

[Futtocks]

Lion
by Ivor Cutler

Jungle Tip.
If a lion attacks, stoop swiftly.
Pick up two medium sized rock stones
and insert them deftly up his nostrils.
He will forget your presence temporarily
in an attempt to remove the foreign bodies.
But do not wait around,
for he will bound after you
and you will not play your trick a second time.

[Oxford]

Summer with Monika by Roger McGough

ten milk bottles standing in the hall
ten milk bottles up against the wall
next door neighbour thinks we're dead
hasn't heard a sound, he said
doesn't know we've been in bed
the ten whole days since we were wed
no-one knows and no-one sees
we lovers doing as we please
but people stop and point at these
ten milk bottles a-turning into cheese

ten milk bottles standing day and night
ten different thicknesses and
different shades of white
persistent carol singers without a note to utter
silent carol singers a-turning into butter

now she's run out of passion
and there's not much left in me
so maybe we'll get up and make a cup of tea
and then people can stop wondering
what they're waiting for
those ten milk bottles a queuing at our door
those ten milk bottles a queuing at our door.

The rest is pretty good too!

[Copa]

an empty elevator
opens
closes

Jack Cain

[Oxford]

"I'd like to get away from earth awhile

And then come back to it and begin over.

May no fate willfully misunderstand me

And half grant what I wish and snatch me away

Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:

I don't know where it's likely to go better.

I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,

And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk

Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,

But dipped its top and set me down again.

That would be good both going and coming back.

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches."

 

Robert Frost .... Birches.

[Oxford]

"Tell me what it's like in heaven
I hope it's kinder than it is down here
With all the trials and tribulations
All the worry and living in fear

We are lost, we are scattered
We're balmy and we're battered
We might be bruised but we're not broken."

and

"When I was younger I believed, that dreams came true.
Now I wonder.
Cause' I've seen much more dark skies, than blue.
Now I wonder.

I keep on praying for a blue sky, I keep on searching through the rain.
I keep on thinking of the good times, will they ever come again?
Now I wonder.
Now I wonder.

I keep on praying for a blue sky, I keep on searching through the rain.
I keep on thinking of the good times, will they ever come again?
Now I wonder.
Now I wonder.

When I was younger I believed, that I could win.
Now I wonder.
There was a time when you and I, walked hand & hand.
Now I wonder.

I keep on searching for the old me, I keep on thinking I can change.
I keep on hoping for a new day, will I ever feel the same?
Now I wonder.
Oh I wonder.
Now I wonder. "

As well as

"I've been wanderin' early late
From new york city to the golden gate
And it don't look like
I'll ever stop my wanderin'

My daddy was an engineer
My brother drives a hack
My sister takes in laundry
While the baby balls the jack
And it don't look like
I'll ever stop my wanderin' "

[GUBRATS]

On 23/02/2019 at 09:25, Griff9of13 said:

Went to see the Bard of Salford, Dr John Cooper Clarke last night. I'd like to reproduce the highlight of the evening here, but the forum's sweary filter would reduce it to a post of #'s!

 

That would be the child of the Bat

[GUBRATS]

Edgar Guest

Somebody said " it couldn't be done "

But he with a chuckle replied 

Maybe it couldn't 

But he would be one who wouldn't say so until he had tried 

So he started right in with a trace of a grin

On his face if he worried he hid it 

He started to sing as he tackled the thing that couldn't be done 

And he did it 

 

First handed to me by my mother as I was setting up a business nearly 30 years ago , this has got me through plenty of adversity in life and work 

[Oxford]

The boys were singing shing-a-ling
The summer night we met
You were tan and seventeen
O how could I forget
When every star from near and far
Was watching from above
Watching two teenagers fall in love

The way we danced was not a dance
But more a long embrace
We held on to each other and
We floated there in space
And I was shy to kiss you while
The whole wide world could see
So shing-a-ling said everything for me

And O the poor old old folks
They thought we'd lost our minds
They could not make heads or tails
Of the young folks' funny rhymes
But you and I knew all the words
And we always sang along to
O sham-a-ling-dong-ding
Sham-a-ling-dang-dong

So after years and after tears
And after summers past
The old folks tried to warn us
How our love would never last
And all we'd get was soaking wet
From walking in the rain
And singing sham-a-shing-a-ling again

 

And O the poor old old folks
They smile and walk away
But I bet they did some
Sham-a-lama-ding-dong in their day
I bet that they still close their eyes
And I bet they sing along to
O sham-a-ling-dong-ding
Sham-a-ling-dang-dong

O those sweet old love songs
Every word rings true
Sham-a-ling-dong-ding means sweetheart
Sham-a-ling-dang-dong does too
And it means that right here in my arms
That's where you belong
And it means sham-a-ling-dong-ding
Sham-a-ling-dang-dong

Jess Winchester

 

 

[tim2]

My pamphlet's available now, launching on Nov 8th in Doncaster. Feel free to buy one or not - here's one of the poems therein. PM me if you want one, £6.50 inc. P&P.

Resurrection

When he came back no fanfare was sounded
The heads turned away, or just stared straight past
the shambling figure missing eyesight and limbs
a gift of warfare; from the bombs and gas
that fizzed and hissed and thudded and pounded
and arced like bright rainbows and sang like hymns

That Friday dawned just like any other
in the stink and mud they slogged to the line
they stood no chance; they were sacrificed lambs
who were nailed to their cross; a mandate divine
to brother lying in death with brother
that cursed the living and howled with the damned

He died on that Friday; they brought him back
and he lay in bed a year and two days
He limped from his sick bed and dimly saw
the people they died for; so drab and gray
hiding behind the old Union Jack
that flew in false pride as we fought its war

The church was near full that Easter Sunday
when he hobbled back to his silent town
but he could not pass through those hallowed doors
where the statue shone with its holy crown
of thorns; He turned his damaged eyes away
and left there to fight his own private war

Tim Fellows Easter 2018

 

from "Heritage", Glass Head Press 2019

 

 

[Copa]

lightning

a heron’s cry stabs

the darkness 

by Matsuo Kinsaku

[Oxford]

One.

"Long-haired preachers come out every night
Try to tell you what's wrong and what's right
But when asked how 'bout something to eat
They will answer with voices so sweet

[Chorus]
You will eat, bye and bye
In that glorious land above the sky
Work and Pray, live on hay
You'll get pie in the sky when you die

And the starvation army they play
And they sing and they clap and they pray
Till they get all your coin on the drum
Then they tell you when you are on the bum

[Chorus]

If you fight hard for children and wife
Try to get something good in this life
You're a sinner and bad man, they tell
When you die you will sure go to hell

[Chorus]

Workingmen of all countries unite
Side by side we for freedom will fight
When the world and its wealth we have gained
To the grafters we'll sing this refrain

{Last Chorus}
You will eat, bye and bye
When you've learned how to cook and to fry
Chop some wood, 'twill do you good
And you'll eat in the sweet bye and bye "

Two

"Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli."

 

Three

"Shirts in the closet, shoes in the hall
Mama's in the kitchen, baby and all
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But you're missing

Coffee cups on the counter, jackets on the chair
Papers on the doorstep, you're not there
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But you're missing

Pictures on the nightstand, tv's on in the den
Your house is waiting, your house is waiting
For you to walk in, for you to walk in
But you're missing, you're missing

You're missing when i shut out the lights
You're missing when i close my eyes
You're missing when i see the sun rise
You're missing"

[Oxford]

 

[Padge]

A Short Poem by Spike Milligan

Po.

[GUBRATS]

2 minutes ago, Padge said:

A Short Poem by Spike Milligan

Po.

A slightly longer one by me 

Pie 

[Padge]

Roger McGough, Cat's Protection League.

[Oxford]

A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died

I think this may be on here already but the latest news seems to echo this a lot!

[Oxford]

Had to include this

Tonight at noon
Supermarkets will advertise 3p extra on everything
Tonight at noon
Children from happy families will be sent to live in a home
Elephants will tell each other human jokes
America will declare peace on Russia
World War I generals will sell poppies on the street on November 11th
The first daffodils of autumn will appear
When the leaves fall upwards to the trees

Tonight at noon
Pigeons will hunt cats through city backyards
Hitler will tell us to fight on the beaches and on the landing fields
A tunnel full of water will be built under Liverpool
Pigs will be sighted flying in formation over Woolton
And Nelson will not only get his eye back but his arm as well
White Americans will demonstrate for equal rights
In front of the Black house
And the monster has just created Dr. Frankenstein

Girls in bikinis are moonbathing
Folksongs are being sung by real folk
Art galleries are closed to people over 21
Poets get their poems in the Top 20
There's jobs for everybody and nobody wants them
In back alleys everywhere teenage lovers are kissing in broad daylight
In forgotten graveyards everywhere the dead will quietly bury the living
            and
You will tell me you love me
Tonight at noon

Adrian Henry