A-DEAD-COLD-SNOWMAN
He used to use 'snow'.
Folk called him the yeti.
I called him the Eskimo.
He-ran-off-with-a-girl-named-Betty.
They lived in an igloo
having married. Life-was-cold.
He ended-up dead; ended-up blue.
Only-drug-free-Betty-will-grow-old.
A-CYCLIC-SEA-AND-
CIRCULAR-SEASONS
Had we A-Gift-of-Wings
like Johnathan Livingston Seagull
we might fly the higher,
fly the straighter,
than we do in life's circle.
We've not A-Gift-of-Wings
but we wheel just like any gull
a food-morsel has spied
there at the low-tide
of the push-and-pull-cycle.
THE-SO-GRIM-REAPER
Death is on the stairs,
he has come to call.
The priest utters a prayer
conscious of the creeping footfall.
The dying-woman gives-up-her-ghost.
The very-grim-guest reaps his host.
A-NATTERJACK-TYPE
You're like the natterjack-toad,
you love giving us voice
hunched there in your corner.
You sure make a lot of noise.
A yellow-line right down your back.
Done nothing, been nowhere, you natterjack.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
for PATTAYA TRADER 132 (B)
THE_SUBURBIAN-SMITHS-
CAN'TT-KEEP-UP-WITH-THE-
JONES-FAMILY-FIND
Not pot, but-made-of-plastic,
that's what your poor garden gnome is.
You the artificial Smith family
won't ever outdo the more-upper-Joneses !
A-VERY-DRIVEN-
VAGABOND-VERSE
W.H. Davies, the poet,
was to up and-then-decamp,
take to the veeering road
and become a supertramp.
IN-OR-OUT-AND-UP-OR-DOWN?
Down-and-put-out-in-London-and-Paris,
or up-and-inside-your-towering-metropolis?
ANAGRAM-EPIGRAM
Mark-Beevers. A-Verse-Maker-Be
is the very anagram of me.
IT'S-A-GRIM-FAIRYSTORY
The ugly witch locked you out
and friends won't let you in.
Magically you circle about.
Still your situation sure looks Grimms.
A-SPIRITUAL-MATTER-
FOR-THE-NON-MONKS-FIND
The rich-Christian and fortunate-Buddhist,
what of their wealth do they share?
Do they give-up of their belongings?
The only blessings that they wear
are those of material possessions
for which a proud-Devil may care.
THE-FORWARD-ROAD-
FOREVER
You are at a crossroads,
there is no turning back.
A voice within the wind says
"Choose-one-of-the-three-tracks."
The scarecrow in the field says
"A-man-of-straw's-behind-this-mask.
Do-not-wait-far-too-long,
and-do-not-be-side-tracked."
CAN'TT-KEEP-UP-WITH-THE-
JONES-FAMILY-FIND
Not pot, but-made-of-plastic,
that's what your poor garden gnome is.
You the artificial Smith family
won't ever outdo the more-upper-Joneses !
A-VERY-DRIVEN-
VAGABOND-VERSE
W.H. Davies, the poet,
was to up and-then-decamp,
take to the veeering road
and become a supertramp.
IN-OR-OUT-AND-UP-OR-DOWN?
Down-and-put-out-in-London-and-Paris,
or up-and-inside-your-towering-metropolis?
ANAGRAM-EPIGRAM
Mark-Beevers. A-Verse-Maker-Be
is the very anagram of me.
IT'S-A-GRIM-FAIRYSTORY
The ugly witch locked you out
and friends won't let you in.
Magically you circle about.
Still your situation sure looks Grimms.
A-SPIRITUAL-MATTER-
FOR-THE-NON-MONKS-FIND
The rich-Christian and fortunate-Buddhist,
what of their wealth do they share?
Do they give-up of their belongings?
The only blessings that they wear
are those of material possessions
for which a proud-Devil may care.
THE-FORWARD-ROAD-
FOREVER
You are at a crossroads,
there is no turning back.
A voice within the wind says
"Choose-one-of-the-three-tracks."
The scarecrow in the field says
"A-man-of-straw's-behind-this-mask.
Do-not-wait-far-too-long,
and-do-not-be-side-tracked."
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
for PATTAYA TRADER 132 (A)
FIND-LIFE-IS-A-FIRST-
AND-LAST-DAY
Today is yesterday's tomorrow.
Today is tomorrow's yesterday.
One day joy; one day sorrow.
One day is all days, anyway.
WHAT-A-CARRY-ON-QUASIMODO
You carry a hump this life-long-day,
and in your head are clappers that clang.
The bells !! The bells !! They have their way.
You feel like the hunchback of Notre-Dame.
TRUTH-AND-THE-LONELY-
LAWMAN
I once knew a lawyer,
a just and honest man,
who when it came to truth
said "Let politics go hang."
My party wrong or right,
my country right or wrong,
was not of his thinking,
though find a thoughtful-one.
A DAYTIME'S ROBBERY
There are the twilight twitters
from the-birds-about-the-eaves,
and there is a lonely sparrow
who for the daylight quietly grieves.
It's as if a thieving magpie
the light had come to thieve.
THE PANDA-EYED-LIKE PAULA
Like a panda - from China -
bound in her man's zoo;
Paula's dark around the eyes,
he beats her black and blue.
Oh very far away land
of rice and of bamboo
there is an English girl
that over your sunrise chews.
AND-LAST-DAY
Today is yesterday's tomorrow.
Today is tomorrow's yesterday.
One day joy; one day sorrow.
One day is all days, anyway.
WHAT-A-CARRY-ON-QUASIMODO
You carry a hump this life-long-day,
and in your head are clappers that clang.
The bells !! The bells !! They have their way.
You feel like the hunchback of Notre-Dame.
TRUTH-AND-THE-LONELY-
LAWMAN
I once knew a lawyer,
a just and honest man,
who when it came to truth
said "Let politics go hang."
My party wrong or right,
my country right or wrong,
was not of his thinking,
though find a thoughtful-one.
A DAYTIME'S ROBBERY
There are the twilight twitters
from the-birds-about-the-eaves,
and there is a lonely sparrow
who for the daylight quietly grieves.
It's as if a thieving magpie
the light had come to thieve.
THE PANDA-EYED-LIKE PAULA
Like a panda - from China -
bound in her man's zoo;
Paula's dark around the eyes,
he beats her black and blue.
Oh very far away land
of rice and of bamboo
there is an English girl
that over your sunrise chews.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
for PATTAYA TRADER 131 (B)
THE-VERSE-POET-AND-THE-
ROSE-FLOWER-OF-PROSE
The Svengali-poet
turned-out the verseful-rose.
The girl would then betray him
when the flower turned to prose.
CINDERELLA'S-LONDON-
TOWN-STORY
The fact she is on the dole
won't bring this Cinders down,
she shall go to the city ball
and wear a borrowed gown.
The disco lights shall shine,
she will twirl, twirl, flop,
high on cheap red wine
from the street corner shop.
How she shall dance,
how she will sing,
find a little romance,
make the world look like a pumpkin.
GO-CRY-SHARK-IN-
SHOWERY-WET-ENGLAND
All tell your sons
and warn your daughters,
shark-infested
are the cruel waters.
The lifeguard goes
without his shotgun,
while the whole beach
lacks a golden sun.
Up to the knees
in a bloody slaughter,
shark-infested
is the cruel water.
GUNPOWDER PETE
The bloody war
was to leave Pete with a scar
and a wooden peg-leg.
A lost look in his eye,
he now has to eat humble pie
on the street where other men also beg.
Not an explosion of laughs
are his war's aftermaths
but they are a potential powder-keg.
HOPPED-A-BUNNY-GIRL-TO-
THE-POETICALLY-SURREAL-
UNDERGROUND-SCENE
The magician was to put his hand
in the upturned top-hat,
while the jumpy rabbit inside
wouldn't have any of that.
It bolted along the lengthy tunnel
that was the big hat's top,
down to the poetry underworld
the rabbit was then to hop.
"Welcome to our Wonderland,"
said the magic poetry lines
that were written on the walls
of that shiny diamond mine.
But almost an eternity later
the rabbit just had to go,
and header for a spotlight
like that in the stage magician's show.
Yet the grand circle of light
was the tunnel's very end come,
and the rabbit was to exit
to the loud applause of everyone.
The people were now fluffy bunnies ...
what conjurer's trick? What scheming?
The rabbit had to pinch itself,
but the child Alice awoke from her dreaming.
ROSE-FLOWER-OF-PROSE
The Svengali-poet
turned-out the verseful-rose.
The girl would then betray him
when the flower turned to prose.
CINDERELLA'S-LONDON-
TOWN-STORY
The fact she is on the dole
won't bring this Cinders down,
she shall go to the city ball
and wear a borrowed gown.
The disco lights shall shine,
she will twirl, twirl, flop,
high on cheap red wine
from the street corner shop.
How she shall dance,
how she will sing,
find a little romance,
make the world look like a pumpkin.
GO-CRY-SHARK-IN-
SHOWERY-WET-ENGLAND
All tell your sons
and warn your daughters,
shark-infested
are the cruel waters.
The lifeguard goes
without his shotgun,
while the whole beach
lacks a golden sun.
Up to the knees
in a bloody slaughter,
shark-infested
is the cruel water.
GUNPOWDER PETE
The bloody war
was to leave Pete with a scar
and a wooden peg-leg.
A lost look in his eye,
he now has to eat humble pie
on the street where other men also beg.
Not an explosion of laughs
are his war's aftermaths
but they are a potential powder-keg.
HOPPED-A-BUNNY-GIRL-TO-
THE-POETICALLY-SURREAL-
UNDERGROUND-SCENE
The magician was to put his hand
in the upturned top-hat,
while the jumpy rabbit inside
wouldn't have any of that.
It bolted along the lengthy tunnel
that was the big hat's top,
down to the poetry underworld
the rabbit was then to hop.
"Welcome to our Wonderland,"
said the magic poetry lines
that were written on the walls
of that shiny diamond mine.
But almost an eternity later
the rabbit just had to go,
and header for a spotlight
like that in the stage magician's show.
Yet the grand circle of light
was the tunnel's very end come,
and the rabbit was to exit
to the loud applause of everyone.
The people were now fluffy bunnies ...
what conjurer's trick? What scheming?
The rabbit had to pinch itself,
but the child Alice awoke from her dreaming.
for PATTAYA TRADER 131 (A)
THE-TINY-BUG-
ON-THE-BIG-RUG
Like a character
out of a novel by Kafka
you metamorph into a bug.
Trophy heads on the wall
from down in the hall
up to the bearskin rug
there beneath your feet.
You don't kill to eat,
you kill for the fun.
The lion, boar and stag,
the beasts that you bag,
see the insect you've become.
BRENDA-THE-BOHEMIAN-YES
A boho
in Soho;
strip-artist she.
Wander,
I wonder,
her mind free
of eyes
like flies
stuck on her body?
TRACKING-DOWN-THE-
MUCKY-DEALER-YES
You shoulder a burden
as you pitch your tent,
for have you not purchased
a big white elephant?
You came by money easily
though you speak of working-hard.
I look to the past and see
dirty-dealings in your backyard.
Yes dirty-dealings in your yard out-back.
The debt-hunters are right on track.
THE OLD RHINO
There was an aged-rhinoceros
who was just pompous and preposterous.
Another, yet-unasked-for, horn
was thrust-up his ass by a fabulous unicorn.
THE-BOY-IN-BLUE
The cop took out his truncheon,
were it a sausage for their luncheon,
the crook caught with his trousers down
wouldn't have worn such a frown !
ON-THE-BIG-RUG
Like a character
out of a novel by Kafka
you metamorph into a bug.
Trophy heads on the wall
from down in the hall
up to the bearskin rug
there beneath your feet.
You don't kill to eat,
you kill for the fun.
The lion, boar and stag,
the beasts that you bag,
see the insect you've become.
BRENDA-THE-BOHEMIAN-YES
A boho
in Soho;
strip-artist she.
Wander,
I wonder,
her mind free
of eyes
like flies
stuck on her body?
TRACKING-DOWN-THE-
MUCKY-DEALER-YES
You shoulder a burden
as you pitch your tent,
for have you not purchased
a big white elephant?
You came by money easily
though you speak of working-hard.
I look to the past and see
dirty-dealings in your backyard.
Yes dirty-dealings in your yard out-back.
The debt-hunters are right on track.
THE OLD RHINO
There was an aged-rhinoceros
who was just pompous and preposterous.
Another, yet-unasked-for, horn
was thrust-up his ass by a fabulous unicorn.
THE-BOY-IN-BLUE
The cop took out his truncheon,
were it a sausage for their luncheon,
the crook caught with his trousers down
wouldn't have worn such a frown !
Sunday, May 8, 2011
for PATTAYA TRADER 130 (B)
A-WOMAN-WRECKED
She's worn and weary
and old of age;
lonely, going loopy.
Jim perches in his cage.
"Jim lad," he chirps.
The parrot looks around.
Oh the poor old lass,
find her life's ship runs aground.
VINCENT-VAN-GOGH'S-
GHOSTLY-MAD-VOICES
Windmills, tulips
and Dutchmen's cheese,
cut-off-an-ear
with less-than-perfect-ease.
Smell and taste
and eyes to see,
what was one ear?
Vincent heard voices internally.
A MERLIN MAGIC
The moon goes round
just like a crystal ball
as through the trees
an owl is heard to call.
It takes to the sky
with a brush of wing,
riding on its back
is a hobgoblin.
Let down your hair
my dear sweet child,
kick off your shoes,
the eyes are wild.
Dance, yes dance,
my pretty gypsy queen,
with the very magic
that Merlin has never seen.
SLEEPING BEAUTY
Off she goes to her beauty-sleep.
The shallow girl's vanity find is deep.
BAD-BOY-BILL
A Billy-be-damn?
A Billy-no-good?
Too-young-and-handsome
weren't you, Billy-Budd.
She's worn and weary
and old of age;
lonely, going loopy.
Jim perches in his cage.
"Jim lad," he chirps.
The parrot looks around.
Oh the poor old lass,
find her life's ship runs aground.
VINCENT-VAN-GOGH'S-
GHOSTLY-MAD-VOICES
Windmills, tulips
and Dutchmen's cheese,
cut-off-an-ear
with less-than-perfect-ease.
Smell and taste
and eyes to see,
what was one ear?
Vincent heard voices internally.
A MERLIN MAGIC
The moon goes round
just like a crystal ball
as through the trees
an owl is heard to call.
It takes to the sky
with a brush of wing,
riding on its back
is a hobgoblin.
Let down your hair
my dear sweet child,
kick off your shoes,
the eyes are wild.
Dance, yes dance,
my pretty gypsy queen,
with the very magic
that Merlin has never seen.
SLEEPING BEAUTY
Off she goes to her beauty-sleep.
The shallow girl's vanity find is deep.
BAD-BOY-BILL
A Billy-be-damn?
A Billy-no-good?
Too-young-and-handsome
weren't you, Billy-Budd.
for PATTAYA TRADER 130 (A)
DIVERSE DIRECTIONS
You might be a Genghis Khan
or even a Che Guvera.
Dali the great showman
or Todd the demon-barber.
You might be a hungry-poet
in just the Chatterton mould
or you might be an ugly-threat
to all the forts in gold.
Who is it then now knocks
upon the woman-wombish-door
to lie in death's-closed-box
when life's breath is no more?
RAPUNZEL
Lady I will take my leave,
you can scream from the top of your tower,
fill the moat to the brim with tears,
but I'll be gone within the hour.
You can cry till the dragons come home,
pull out by the roots your long golden hair,
make plaits for a new brave knight to climb,
yet the castle bridge is drawn on our affair.
CLEO CALL
I call you Cleopatra
and kiss your eyelids.
You are a burning desert
as I trace your pyramids.
I call you Cleopatra,
and your sandy thigh caress.
You call me your oasis.
Later I'll watch you dress.
WILLY-BLAKE-AND-
A-KID-BILLY
The kid went for his gun
and Blake for his pen;
the kid was just death,
Blake life to men.
The kid was a killer,
while Blake let live;
the kid was a taker,
Blake had a lot to give.
The kid died from a bullet
and became a legend;
Blake of old age,
wisdom flowed out his pen.
A-SO-TALL-GULLIVER-
GIRL'S-TRAVELS
There by York's Little Shambles -
the baby of the bigger mart -
a Gulliver girl in her ambles
sure upset the apple-cart
when the keepers of a stall -
very-mean and tiny-minded -
could have felled a girl that tall
and her arms and legs have binded
for looking-down on what they sold
as old rope at the price of gold.
FAREWELL-GIRLFRIEND-
GO-NOW-DO-I
Goodbye girl, I am going solo,
I'm an adventurous Marco Polo
out here in the Far-South-East.
Yet I'm something of a boho,
or something of an Edgar Allan Poe
but drunk only at this moveable feast.
Goodbye girl, for time quick passes
while you sit-and-hide-behind-sunglasses.
DESTINY
You missed your stop.
You missed your station.
You travel through life
having missed your vocation.
A vacancy open to verse
was this poet's destination.
You might be a Genghis Khan
or even a Che Guvera.
Dali the great showman
or Todd the demon-barber.
You might be a hungry-poet
in just the Chatterton mould
or you might be an ugly-threat
to all the forts in gold.
Who is it then now knocks
upon the woman-wombish-door
to lie in death's-closed-box
when life's breath is no more?
RAPUNZEL
Lady I will take my leave,
you can scream from the top of your tower,
fill the moat to the brim with tears,
but I'll be gone within the hour.
You can cry till the dragons come home,
pull out by the roots your long golden hair,
make plaits for a new brave knight to climb,
yet the castle bridge is drawn on our affair.
CLEO CALL
I call you Cleopatra
and kiss your eyelids.
You are a burning desert
as I trace your pyramids.
I call you Cleopatra,
and your sandy thigh caress.
You call me your oasis.
Later I'll watch you dress.
WILLY-BLAKE-AND-
A-KID-BILLY
The kid went for his gun
and Blake for his pen;
the kid was just death,
Blake life to men.
The kid was a killer,
while Blake let live;
the kid was a taker,
Blake had a lot to give.
The kid died from a bullet
and became a legend;
Blake of old age,
wisdom flowed out his pen.
A-SO-TALL-GULLIVER-
GIRL'S-TRAVELS
There by York's Little Shambles -
the baby of the bigger mart -
a Gulliver girl in her ambles
sure upset the apple-cart
when the keepers of a stall -
very-mean and tiny-minded -
could have felled a girl that tall
and her arms and legs have binded
for looking-down on what they sold
as old rope at the price of gold.
FAREWELL-GIRLFRIEND-
GO-NOW-DO-I
Goodbye girl, I am going solo,
I'm an adventurous Marco Polo
out here in the Far-South-East.
Yet I'm something of a boho,
or something of an Edgar Allan Poe
but drunk only at this moveable feast.
Goodbye girl, for time quick passes
while you sit-and-hide-behind-sunglasses.
DESTINY
You missed your stop.
You missed your station.
You travel through life
having missed your vocation.
A vacancy open to verse
was this poet's destination.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)