GRANNY

.
Granny, can I have some cake?
Can we jump in a boat and row on the lake?
Granny, please for my sake;
Only for a little while will I be a child,
And have the joy of running wild;
Please do it for me and my radiant smile.

In just a few years I'll be a trial,
An adolescent with addled essence,
All moans and groans and mixed-up hormones,
Rebellious and moody, erratic and broody:
I'll have the strength to run mile after mile,
Yet sometimes my temper will be vile.

I will not know how fortunate I am:
Then as now I'll be mentally still in my pram;
How can I know that you are tired,
And worried that you may be ill,
That every illness may be your last,
That all your happy days are past?
How can I tell, when my life is so fast?

________________________________________________

SWANS

.
Oh dear, oh dear, the swans are here,
The wild swans from Siberia,
For they have come much earlier
Than they have done for many a year;
I'm told it foretells harsh winter chill:
The old will be cold, and many will be ill.

Dear swans, you know I love you dearly,
Your glorious song, your grace and beauty;
But darling swans, it is your duty
Not to come so very early.

Beloved swans, fly home again,
And come here later,
So that our winter weather is better,
For if you do not, I will put you in a sack;
By train or plane I will send you back:

To make our winter easier,
Stay longer in Siberia,
And grant us the boon of not returning too soon,
Or I will send you back again!

_________________________________________________

Note: Bewick's Swans, which nest in Siberia, migrate every autumn to other countries including Britain. In 2010 many arrived 3 weeks earlier than usual. which according to folklore means a cold winter to come.

YOUTH

.
A crowd of young people
Races along the sun-soaked street,
Their lissom figures firm and light,
Laughing and frolicking in the bright summer heat.

Their passionate bodies, aflame with vitality,
Jostle one another as they run to the beach,
And splash into the tumbling sea:

Blazing with insatiable lust for life,
They yearn to release the wild energy
Exploding within them;

No cares sully their smooth and shining brows:
They think that nothing will ever destroy
Their effervescent joy,

For they have never experienced anything else;
And as they leap and bounce into each wave,
They feel that all creation is their slave.

They have no inkling that even now
Their skin is thinning and losing its glow,
That slowly their veins are beginning to show;
They do not notice,
Because it is so slow.

For they can dance all day and dance all night,
And still have strength to tussle and fight,
And exert their muscles with all their might,
And hardly tire.

They are never distraught,
Know nothing of despair;
Their swift brains dart from thought to thought;
They scarcely have a care.

Old age to them is a distant desolate planet,
Populated by tottering apparitions,
Feeble distortions of themselves,
Which they will never inhabit.

Middle age too is a world
They cannot even guess at,
Where young men now grown bald or fat,
If they try to run or have too much fun,
Will be out of breath or feel like death,
Or have a heart attack;

Where women, no longer girls,
Dress to keep their sagging bodies out of sight,
And dye their hair to disguise the white,
And many begin to wonder why they are there..

Some will try to repair their lives,
With pills or potions, diets or lotions,
Hoping they will give them back the life they have lost,
No matter the cost.

For men and women have always sought
To staunch the flow of time,
And not allow the clock of life to chime
The passing of the flaming days of youth.

Imperceptibly hour by hour,
And year after year,
Until no trace of strength nor beauty is left,
Time drains away their energy and power,
Till they are utterly bereft.

Yet in the past,
By simple ways of mindfulness and breath,
People enabled their bodies to last,
Staying healthy and delaying death,
Their youthful vigour barely less,
By absorbing the power of the universe.

Some there are who still practise and preach
The ancient wisdom,
But the charlatans who today pull the levers of our thought,
Preach derision of what for generations has been taught,
And call it superstition.

Talking nonsense, falsely saying that it contradicts science,
So they, by sneering at the truth,
Have curtailed truth,
And let in the ills of old age everywhere,
More fear and suffering than anyone should bear.

Word-inebriated fools,
Prating on radio and television,
They have mesmerised nations
Into becoming self-destructive tools,
Too brain-washed to realise
What waves upon waves of pseudo-scientific lies
Have done to them.

For most so-called scientsts are blind,
Denying even the existence of mind;
So let the rest of us arise
And strive to make strong and wise
The ailing millions they mislead and despise:
For we must spread the truths we know,
And show the radiant joy-filled path we all can go.

___________________________________________________

ORANG-UTAN

.
I swing despairing through the trees,
Heartbroken for my baby who they took away:
No longer can she leap and play,
Loved by me, happy and free,
And filled with glee the live-long day,
Happy and hiding among the fluttering leaves,
As the branches bend and sway
In the cooling breeze.

Now my baby just sits and cries
Alone in the sweltering heat of a cage,
And cannot even see the sky;
Why, oh why did they steal her life,
And pierce her soul
With the knife of cold indifference?

Sometimes I see them as they pass below:
They do not know that I am here,
Watching how their fierce eyes glow
And burn with desire
To demolish or destroy with fire
The forest which is our home and joy,
And has been since the start of time;
Why, oh why do they commit this crime?

________________________________________

PERASKIN

.
I run across the gentle down,
To reach the shining sea,
For the waters of Peraskin
Constantly call to me.

Just a little way to Westward
The baby seals play:
Their haunting voices drift across the bay.

By the waters of Peraskin
I dreamed a dream one day:

The sky above and the earth below,
And by my side the swelling sea
All joined in choral symphony,
That made the spirit in me glow,
And filled my heart with peace.

I slept; and oh, the Earth was singing
As I lay upon its breast:
Its joyful song was ringing through my rest.

I dreamt; and then I heard a different sound:
Children shrieking from their wounds,
And left alone to die.

I dreamt that tanks were grinding,
Grinding through my dream;
I heard my loved ones' voices,
Saw them start to scream.

And madmen chanted hatred
In their castle in the East,
As huge unwilling legions
Crunched their gory feast,
As doing what they knew was wrong,
They sang the tyrants' hideous song.

I woke; and only gulls were calling,
As they flew across the sky;
Their soft white wings were shining,
As they glided by.

A girl was walking on the sand,
Her sun-warmed limbs all golden,
As she ran beside the sea;
And there was only beauty
All around me.

The waters of Peraskin
In tiny wavelets roll,
And pour their gentle beauty on my soul

But a thousand miles to Eastward
The hosts of missiles wait
For the word that will destroy us,
Fuelled with hate.

By the waters of Peraskin
On that calm Western shore,
I dream my dreams no more.

_________________________________________

Note: this poem was written at the height of the cold war.

ELEPHANT

.
O you with the ponderous feet
And trunk so mighty and long,
I wish I knew what you eat,
And why your strength is so strong.

___________________________________

Note: this poem was written when the poet was a small child.

OLD AGE

.
Wraiths with walking sticks,
Shakily going through the park,
Slowly tread towards the dark,
Their footsteps ever slower.

Travesties of what they used to be,
They look back at the times they knew:
The chances lost;
The times of joy;
And when they were little girl or boy.

They do not know what is to come:
They knew not then;
They know not now.

They make the most of every day,
And every night they hope and pray.

____________________________________

MUMMY

.
You have made our eyes to shine,
And filled our hearts with glee;
And all that you have done for us,
Everyone can see.

You are the light that makes us glow,
And floods our lives with joy;
We love you more than you can know,
Your little girl and boy.

We love you; you are always there,
To cherish us and make us whole.
You calm away our every care;
We love, with all our soul.

_____________________________________

MOTORWAY

.
Did you see that notice
A little while back?
Motorway ahead,
It said,
In the biggest letters I've ever seen;
Surely God put it there!
Did God put it there, daddy?

Let's lie down in the lay-by,
And watch the cars go by:
Shall we lie down in the lay-by,
And see the cars go by
To the motorway?

Zoom! Zoom!
What fun!
They're going to the motorway,
Where they're not allowed to stop:
What will happen, daddy,
If they do?

Will God punish them?

__________________________________

TREES

.
The trees in the valley
Murmur and sigh,
As the wind from the uplands
Sweeps from the sky.

There are yew trees
For you,
And wee trees
For dogs,
Big trees and little trees
For logs;

There are shoe trees
For feet
That aren't very neat.
And beech trees
To grow on the beach.

The trees in the valley
Tremble and cry,
As the gale from the uplands
Howls from the sky.

The trees in the valley
Need sympathy.
And they have it from me,
Though I am a child of the sea.

_______________________________

A WALK WITH TONY

.
Giles, four, and Sophie, two,
Shall I take a walk with you?
Shall we walk along the streets
To the shop to buy some sweets?
Shall we wander to the swings
Past the clock that sometimes rings?

Then you'll sit and swing up high,
Flying swiftly through the sky;
And I will push you back and forth,
And watch you ride above the earth,
Till all at once you say to me:
"Tony, Tony, home for tea."

Then we'll run across the grass,
Sometimes slowly, sometimes fast;
And along the road we'll go,
Sometimes quickly, sometimes slow,
Till at last we reach the gate:
Just as well that we're not late,
For mummy's made us all a cake.

__________________________________

BELOVED

.
I love your strong athletic body,
And the creamy softness of your skin;
But most of all I love
The radiance within.

I run my fingers through your hair,
And gently stroke your cheek;
But you have given me everything,
The heaven that I seek.

Your glorious body, full of joy,
Melts into mine;
But it is your calm serenity,
Which makes me shine.

Together we will walk and run,
Like little children wildly play,
And dance and gambol in the sun.

And later, when we're growing old,
Still we'll tread through space and time,
And march towards the promised land;
Hand in hand our spirits shine.

These words I give with all my love,
To you, eternally my bride;
You've wrapped your arms around my soul,
And wrought a miracle inside.

I love you: far, far more than wife,
You've been the strength that's made me whole;
You are the centre of my life.

_______________________________________________

For D.B.

CHIMPANZEE

.
I sit in my cage,
Or endlessly shuffle
Around my enclosure,
Boiling with rage;

And every night
I collect more stones
To hurl at you next day,
Hoping to smash your bones
Because I hate you
For what you have done to me;

I am not like the gentle orang-utans:
I yearn to charge and rampage
Through the dark forests
With the rest of my clan,
Invading other chimpanzees' territories,
And seizing their lands;

Tearing them to pieces,
Slaughtering as many as we can,
Just as man does to man;
That is what we do,
Just like you.

You call this a zoo,
Where you can view
And learn;

Yet all I do is burn
With loathing for all of you;
There is nothing
You can learn from me,
For we are vicious and vindictive
Senseless killers,
Just like you.

You put me here,
Just to amuse
The bevies of cruel gaping fools,
With their vacant chattering faces,
And those who come
Purporting to study.

So I wage my private war
On you:
There is nothing else for me to do.

____________________________________

Note: chimpanzees, the nearest of man's relatives, attack and kill neighbouring groups and occupy their territory. A chimpanzee in a zoo gathered stones each night to throw at visitors the following day.

WAITING FOR A FLU INJECTION

.
The line of bodies
Shuffles forwards in the queue;
Some too thick, some too thin,
Some lean on sticks or on another's arm,
Just able to stand,
Their thoughts and movements slow;

Some in a wilderness of despair and confusion
Do not quite know
Where or even who they are;
Others can scarcely see,
Recognising no-one;

All are caricatures
Of what they used to be,
Clinging to their lives
With pills, injections and operations;
All have come hoping
To avoid the flu.

Was this once a lively dad,
Playing with his children?
Was this a merry little girl,
Skipping across the meadows,
As pretty as the flowers
Through which she ran?

Now gaunt and bent and staggering,
Their grey hairs thin, their energy gone,
Their bleak faces sagging:
Spiteful time has savaged their bodies,
Plundered their beauty
And destroyed their strength;

They look so frail:
Yet deep within each one,
No matter how great the damage,
Still shines the radiance of the sun;

For they are not their bodies,
But have merely used them for a while
As temporary lodging,
And soon will move on
To other worlds.

________________________________________

FRIEND

.
There is an ancient soul
Who lives with me,
And fills my home
And everywhere he goes,
With light.

His luminous spirit brightens all my days,
And helps me thread the complex maze,
Which is my path through life;

Effortlessly he does what I cannot,
Yet constantly strive to do,
Meditating motionless,
With closed or open eyes,
He gains the knowledge that makes him wise,
The wisdom every intellectual denies.

He does not read nor chatter
About ideas and things that do not matter,
Which self-styled intellectuals,
Who do not know reality,
Endlessly scatter.

And he has taught me
What I could not see:
That I should simply be;

And keep my mind and body fresh,
Not trapped in the debilitating mesh
Of my or other people's self-esteem,
Which weakens the body,
And stiffens the mind,
And destroys integrity.

He does not follow any false hero,
And lose his common sense,
Or devote his loyalty and strength
To plausible orators
Or deluded priests,
Whose probity is zero,
As most people do.

Nor does he brood about the past,
But forgives me whenever I am cross
Or foolish:
He knows my folly will not last;

And he will give me infinite trust,
Until his body turns to dust,
Though even then
He will still be near;

And we will meet again
In different circumstances,
For I know his spirit will soar
And live and love
For ever more;

He is a cog in the eternal wheel of life,
As I and all living creatures are,
And those who say he is just a dog
Know nothing.

___________________________________________







_________________

GRIEF

.
I wander on the empty shore,
And weep because she is no more
Beside me.

The beauty of the sea,
And the beauty that was she
Deride me.

For I am sad and old
And lonely,
And all my strength is gone.

________________________________

FAT

.
I saw an ugly fat man
Eating chips,
His heavy bloated belly
Sagging over his chair,
And I wondered why he ate so much:

Whether perhaps his mind was gripped
By the continuing clutch
Of weak or domineering parents,
Who had not loved him as they should,
And made him sad,
When he was a little boy,
And who stifled him still,
Although they were long dead;

Or if he had lost touch
With what a man should be,
Because dreary or distasteful work,
Or unhappy marriage
Had destroyed his natural joy,
And sapped his vitality.

Then I looked at him again,
And this time did not see
Repellent noxious fat,
But a would-be radiant soul,
Imprisoned and tormented
By unrelenting circumstances;

In a next life,
If not in this,
He would be set free
To capture the God-given glee,
Which was his birthright.

_______________________________

BBC NEWSREADER

.
When I lie in my bed at night
I try to banish from my mind,
And wash away
The items I have read that day:

The poison I have dripped
Into millions of ears,
Which is designed
To control your thoughts,
And worsen your fears,
And contaminate your lives
With the mental blight
Of the miserable news
We've concocted tonight;

There's been a train crash in Peru;
It has nothing to do with you,
And it's horrible to view,
So we'll bring you the pictures
As soon as we can
Of a dying man
And a weeping wife,
And a bloodstained boy
With his broken toy;

"You may find some of the pictures upsetting,"
We say, and we hope you do,
And that they traumatize you;
Why else will we show them?

There's been a fire in Casablanca
And on a German bus;
Someone has stabbed a child of 3;
Bur what's all that to do with us?

There's a mine disaster in Ukraine:
Look - you can see the pain,
And hear the women shrieking;
Then I knit my brow,
And shake my head,
And pretend I care about the dead;

But I have such dreams
When I go to bed,
That I wake up hearing screams,
And worry that I'm going insane,
Dwelling daily on such horrors;

I am a parasite in your brains too,
Devouring your hopes,
And poisoning you
With daily doses of despair,
The morbid sights,
The gloomy speculations,
To sap your will,
And make you ill,
And rip the fabric of your being.

It's becoming more that I can bear:
I read the so-called news,
Racked by guilt,
Ashamed of what I have to say;

My pretended calm is wilting:
I want to stop and shout,
And smash the heads
Of the smirking louts
Who write it,

Who pay themselves and me,
By levying a licence fee
On you, the victims of their cruelty;

For it is they who have the licence
To use your money
To demoralise you.

_____________________________________

Note: This poem is based on BBC news bulletins which contained the items mentioned.

THE LAST NEANDERTHAL

.
I lean upon this ancient rock,
Wounded by the jabbering men
Who tore my beautiful daughter and her lover apart,
And killed them.

They strut among the bodies of my kin
And all the rest of my folk:
All my people gone,
Their carcases bleeding into the earth;

They think I too am dead,
And soon they will be right.
Why did they slaughter us,
When there is so much space for all?

And what will they do with this beautiful Earth
Which has loved and sustained us
And given us so much joy
Since time began?

I fear what will come out of their jabbering,
Their brutishness and their toxic self-importance,
And their power of speech they are so proud of,
Which enabled them to plot together
To destroy us.

I see that in the end
The talk they are so proud of
Will give them undreamt of powers,
And lead to their undoing;

For they will spread death
To every creature
In every land
And under the sea,
Murdering wherever they go,
Even themselves;

Until they kill the very world itself,
The Earth which gave birth to both them
And us
They will trample and turn to dust;

Until they annihilate everything and everyone,
Babbling and jabbering to the end,
Till the very last man
Gibbers to himself
Amidst the smouldering ruins of the planet.

_______________________________________________

PEOPLE

.
I sit on a bench in the town,
Watching the people go by:
A girl on a bike;
An old man gazing at TV in a shop;
Above the traffic's hum
A little boy talks to his mum;
Shoppers walk up and down;

Do they know
How marvellous they are,
Minds and bodies
More wonderfully constructed
Than anything else
In all the universe,
Miracles of design and complexity,
Which even heal themselves?

So how can people ever harm one another,
Or complain about trivialities,
Or waste time?

___________________________________________

SEAL CULL

.
A silent boat is sliding to the shore;
High above the buzzards wheel;
The scientists have come,
To crucify the seal.

Soon the pumping blood will pour,
And gush in rivers to the sea;
The brutal men who drip with gore,
Work with fierce relentless glee:

They boast they know the reasons why
Some should live and some should die.

The wind is freshening in the North,
Dark clouds drift across the bay,
Foaming breakers hurry forth,
Lightning starts to crash and play.

Oh. let them be,
The gentle children of the sea!

But more and more,
The bodies pile up on the shore,
And the tortured minds of terrible men
Plan where they will kill again.

________________________________________

THE HERMIT

.
Slowly, slowly sinks the setting sun,
An orange disc of molten fire,
As if it were the funeral pyre
Of all his earthly hopes.

Yet in the enveloping dusk
The frail husk of his body glows,
Lit by the pale snows
Around him.

High at the summit of the world
His spirit soars above the icy peaks,
Even as his flesh decays
And intimates its final days
Are near.

Once he knew the warmth of love,
But when it failed
He sought a simple holy place,
To look for peace,
Alone.

He gazes with his aged eyes
At the jagged mountains carved below,
The silent stones,
That taught him truths he did not know
Before.

At last he rests,
And his faded eyes
Close for ever.

And then he sees
What he had not seen
With all the youthful power of his sight:
The love he sought
Was always there
Beside him.

__________________________________________

DREAM

.
Bright the valley, swift the stream
Tumbling over in my dream;
O bright the valley, O swift the stream
That tumbles over in my dream!

For I have worked in steaming cities,
And I have trod the gloomy streets
Of countless walls that choke and wither
All that moves;
Where young are old, and old are dead
Before they know that they were young.

But bright the valley, and swift the stream
That tumbles over in my dream.

For I have seen the blocks of flats,
Where human beings live in traps,
Built for them by lunatics.

But bright my valley, and O swift the stream!

____________________________________________

BBC NEWS PRESENTER

.
Well-heeled and smug,
He feeds on other people's misfortunes,
And luxuriates in their distress,
While pretending to be sad:

With solemn tone and gloomy look,
As if he reads a holy book,
He cunningly dissimulates
And makes believe he cares;

He has contempt for you and me,
And endlessly pontificates,
For he belongs to the sect
Called 'Politically Correct'.

Bereft of feeling,
Hypocritical and glib,
He is utterly bad.

________________________________

THE WARRIOR MAIDENS' CHALLENGE

.
The men sat waiting,
Wondering if they would come,
Their talk rising and falling
In a low dull murmuring hum.

Suddenly at the appointed hour,
As if from nowhere,
The maidens appeared
Over the brow of the hill,
And stood,
Statuesque and still,
Tall and slim,
Their firm bodies
Lit from within
By the flames of their exuberant vitality;
Radiant with power,
They looked at the men below:

Easily they raised their weapons high,
Silhouetted against the sky,
Bare limbs gleaming,
Yearning for the thrill of combat,
Their whole lives culminating in this hour.

Silent and motionless,
They seemed to the men
Even taller and stronger,
Their perfect bodies
Glowing in the sun.

And even as the men marvelled
At the maidens' strength and beauty
The girls began to dance,
Lithe, loose-limbed and free,
Whirling and stamping their feet,
Drumming the earth
With a vibrant hypnotic beat,
Disciplined and fierce;

Their taut bodies
Throbbed with energy,
Which surged through their being
And filled the men with fear:

The dancing slowed to a rhythmic swaying
From foot to foot and side to side,
And as they swayed they began a chant
Which resounded far and near,
Overwhelming the bewildered men,
Who had neither heard nor seen
Anything like this before.

All at once the maidens stopped
And were still,
Breathing deeply,
And with every breath
Gathering strength,
The infinite vigour of the universe
Flooding through them;

The men's minds groped to understand,
Tumultuous thoughts spinning inside their heads.

Abruptly the maidens started down the slope
And swept towards the men,
Leaping and swooping
Like falcons in flight,
Eager for the fight,
The flames of life burning ever brighter,
Certain of their invincibility.

The men quailed
And lost all hope,
Seeing that they would lose
And could only choose
To flee or die;

Overcome by dread
Their muttering ceased:
Dropping their weapons on to the ground
They turned and fled.

The maidens did not pursue them,
But stood and shouted in triumph,
And sang a new exultant refrain,
Which rose and fell
Echoing around the hills
And across the plain
And back again,
Swirling around the men as they ran:
The whole of life was the girls' domain.

Neither the men
Nor they
Would ever forget
This day.

__________________________________________

The poem above is based on an actual incident.

WATERLOO STATION

.
Below the many-sided clock
Flocks of pigeons strut and coo;
They dwell
In the stink and smell,
The filthy hell
That is Waterloo.

Coo, little pigeons, coo!
The clock is meaningless to you;
And the food is good
At Waterloo.

And there are others
Who flock to Waterloo:
Twice a day,
Worn and tense,
A huge migration gallops through;
For them the clock is God.

They have no time to strut and coo,
They're running round their frantic zoo;
There's nothing else that they can do,
Because they made it:
It has no other use.

Coo, little pigeons, coo!
We envy you.

-------------------------------------------

GRANDSON

.
There is a sunbeam in my life,
That shines all day
And shines all night
And scatters starlight in my heart,
And fills my striving soul with light.

The balm of heaven in his kiss,
Eternal beauty in his smile,
He has come from halls of bliss,
And in that love-filled paradise
His spirit lingers yet awhile.

He reaches up with trusting hand
For me to guide his shaky step;
Yet I it is who need his help
To lead me to the promised land.

He has a magic year or two,
Before his body traps his mind,
And binds it with demanding flesh,
And wraps it in the complex mesh
Of all the things men fill their lives with.

And I am near the end of the road
That leads to where he's come from;
And I needed to be reassured,
And shown the living love of God.

But when I see each joyous step
And the radiant beauty of his smile,
I know that God is with me yet,
And with me
To the end of time.

____________________________________

ELDERLY WOMAN

.
When I was young
I laughed and ran,
And danced and sang,
And revelled in my lusty body,
Exploding with vitality;

My lips were full,
Radiant like rosehips,
And all the men desired me,
Their longing gazes following
Wherever I went,
And yearning for my kisses.

Now I'm a hag,
My energy spent,
My body like a piece of scrag
The butcher gives away:

I cannot prance or dance;
Lurching as I walk,
Clutching at my stick,
I am like a badly treated nag;
My legs and knees are
Twisted instruments of pain.

My skin
Is withered and thin;
My lips are tight and dry
Like rusty paper clips.

Now little children
Look away
When they see me:
Instinctively they know
That nobody should be like this.

I had not known,
No-one had told me,
Until it was too late,
What I was doing to myself,
When years of needless selfishness and greed
And heedless petty deed
Unnoticed poisoned all the fabric of my body,
Stealthily turning it to dust.

If only I were young again,
And knew that living without giving
Is slow and painful suicide.

________________________________________________

MODERN POETRY

.
I read a so-called poem the other day:
I knew it was modern
Because it had nothing to say.
Nor did it scan or make sense;

It was bad prose,
Chopped into arbitrary rows
Of ugly inconsequential lines,
Without rhyme
Nor reason, nor plan
Nor anything I could understand:

A perversion of reality,
An assault on humanity,
A self-indulgent pretence.

But where are the real poets who,
Brimming with inspiration,
Could uplift the nation,
Just as the giants of yesteryear
Used to do?

They are swept aside or crushed
By the all-pervading mush,
Propagated by the sad and sorry souls,
Who now hold sway;

Deluded by their own stupidity,
They arrogantly inflict their gloomy instability
On all the rest
Of us;

And if Tennyson were writing his noble poems today,
These people would say:
"He is cra-
zy."

________________________________________________

THE WONDER OF LOVE

.
Year after year I wooed her,
Until I won her,
And reaped the wonder of her love,
Which so nourished and strengthened
My soul and my body,
That I grew
From a nonentity
Into a God.

___________________________________

For D.B.

LONELINESS

.
I spoke to the dentist
As I left his chair,
And to an old man,
Scurrying through the park;

I listened to the song
Of a fluttering skylark.

After that I went home,
And watched pretty girls
Dancing on TV.

Where, oh where
Is the pretty girl for me?


___________________________

A CHILD'S PUPPY

.
I could not love you more,
Funny little doggy on the floor,
Watching me with wondering eyes,
Without deceit, incapable of lies,
Innocent of all the sins
My mummy and my daddy most despise;
I know I'll love him till he dies.


___________________________________

CLEGG

.
His name is Nick Clegg:
He hasn't a leg
To stand on,
But he can beg any question
You mention,
And he's so good at patter,
It just doesn't matter;
He spouts mental bling,
Which doesn't mean anything.


_______________________________

A GORILLA SPEAKS

.
Hideous hairless men
Peer at us
Through their silly telescopes,
Or kill us:

They see us
As idiots
With gigantic strength
And feeble mentality.

They know nothing
Of how we think,
Or what we want from life.

Their thoughts are crazed distortions
Of reality:
They are living catastrophes,
Parasites on all the rest
Of creation,
A calamity.


______________________________________

MY PETS AND I

.
I have two pets,
A dog and a tree.

My dog loves me:
What does the tree think about,
Standing all day
Alone,
Except when I am there?

She does not talk,
Or take a walk,
Or fetch a ball,
Or come when I call:

Anchored to the ground,
She cannot bound,
Nor utter a sound.

But she knows I love her
Just the same.


___________________________

ENVIRONMENTALIST

.
I am an environmentalist:
Like a prophet of old
I tell you how wicked you are,
And what you must do,
And what you must not.

I make sure you are told
Not to go far,
Nor to use your car,
While to travel by plane
Is obscene.

For because of your sins
There will come great winds,
Which will destroy you.

I like controlling people's lives;
I love to make you feel afraid,
Unless my edicts are obeyed.

I want you to admit your guilt,
And grieve and wilt,
Bowed down by the lies I tell you.

For it's all a hoax,
And the biggest joke's
On you.

I feed my computer
With all kinds of data,
And sooner or later
I get the result I want.

Then I threaten the masses
With greenhouse gases,
And fill their lives with fear;
And its taught in schools
By deluded fools,
Believing what they hear.

I make the little children cry:
They think that they will surely die
Before they are much older.
They think the joy and glee they know
Will perish in incandescent glow;
That's what I tell them.

Around the globe my lies have whirled:
The flag of nonsense is unfurled;
At your expense I travel the world,
And ruthlessly distort the truth.

For there are many places
Where the weather's colder;
But I don't tell you that:
It interferes with my plan;
I'm having fun while I can.

I love to go to conferences
In romantic places,
And mouth my fraudulent dirge:
I'm pretending to save the planet
By travel and talk,
By eating fat pork,
And drinking.

___________________________________

DARWIN'S GHOST

.
Sadly I wander about the Earth,
Drifting over the buried dead,
The myriads of innocents who suffered and bled,
Their beautiful bodies smashed to pieces
Because of what I said.

I taught that the law of life
Decrees incessant bloody strife,
That everybody is a rival,
And only winning ensures survival.

O God, what have I done?
For Hitler, Stalin and Mao
And all the other blood-drenched tyrants,
Who followed me or my disciple Marx,
Have enmeshed whole nations in brutality,
And filled mankind with dread.

O God, I am so sorry!
I was driven by ambition:
I wanted fame,
To perpetuate my name.

I knew that what I wrote was wrong,
And so I sank into the dark depression
That made me ill
And blighted all my later years,

Brooding on the huge lie I had spread
Throughout the world,
Knowing the havoc it would cause,
Knowing it would drive men mad,
And even You would be denied.

Please God, forgive me!
Let me rest.


_________________________________

BADGERS

.
When each day is almost past,
And its light is fading fast,
That's when badgers start to play,
When night is overtaking day.

They scranble gaily round the trees,
And sniff the gently blowing breeze,
And run about the grassy ground,
And prick their ears at each new sound.

But later on, when gleaming stars
Are twinkling high above their heads,
They think about their cosy beds,
Deep beneath the soft cool earth.

For when the day has nearly come,
And dawn is glowing in the sky,
The little badgers swiftly run
To their caverns warm and dry,
To sleep and sleep until the night,
Safe and sound and out of sight.

_____________________________________

SHEARWATER

.
They creep along the ancient shore,
With sticks and nets
And other implements of death:
While you have breath
They will torment you,
Gentle bird.

To them you are a means to fame,
An easy way to make a name;
And if you die it's all the same
To them.

Unmoved by love,
There is no limit to what they do:
They kill and maim,
And seek acclaim
By torturing you.

Beyond the crashing surf
Dim swaying lines of foam
Are roaring from your ocean home
And calling you to come.

A myriad swiftly beating wings,
And suddenly the night bird sings;
The air is full of joyous cries
Of the gentle bird they so despise.

A holy place is this,
Amidst the thudding seas,
Where gentle birds have come in peace
For countless centuries.

But now as each bird comes to land,
Grim men grasp with brutal hand
The life they cannot understand,
The simple joy that was not planned
By them.

And later they will write in cold important words
Of the evil things they've done to birds;
And other cruel complacent men
Will praise them.

Darker grows the night,
And darker yet,
And still they murder beauty.

But I have seen them, gentle bird,
And I will not forget.


___________________________________

Manx Shearwaters are seabirds which nest in colonies, and come to land only at night to lay their eggs and feed their young. They are the subject of experiments by "conservationists".

LOVER

.
I love your beautiful face
And gentle voice
And slim strong body,
Bursting with vitality;

Your magnificent body and radiant soul
Have made me whole,
And filled the emptiness
I have always felt till now.

Though my life has been one of striving,
I have been only half alive,
And lacked the will
To finish the tasks
For which my spirit was made flesh;

I did not know that only you
Could make my mind and body flower,
And flood me with the power
To fulfil my destiny;

For God sent me to you
And you to me,
To help each other,
And to strengthen us both,
To accomplish what we were born to do.


________________________________________

For D.B.

MOUNTAIN

.
One summer just as day was dawning,
I saw a majestic mountain morning:
The mist was thick in clinging shrouds;
Then it suddely lifted
To blood red sun and purple clouds.

At noon the sun was warm and bright;
It had climbed and coloured the massive height;
And the mountain gleamed as sudden showers
Lashed its pinnacles and towers.

In the evening the clouds grew thick again:
The dim peaks drowned in a sea of rain,
That washed the slopes and fed the rivers,
And in the gloom of approaching night
The mountain disappeared from sight.



____________________________________________

PRETEND MUSIC

.
Sometimes I hear noises
Coming from my radio,
A cacophonous row
Like a very sick cow
Or an injured crow,
Frantically cawing,
Just before it dies;

Or percussive crashes
Like car smashes,
Or screams like people out of their mind.

Then they say it is a masterpiece
By a modern composer,
Wonderfully inspired,
Or that it signifies
The triumph of the human spirit.

They desperately try
To hide that they lie
Or are catastrophically stupid.


______________________________

TELEVISION NEWS

.
Children, while we're having tea,
How many corpses shall we see?
As the cameras slowly pan,
Let's count the corpses while we can.

Perhaps we'll see them as they die,
And watch their children scream and cry:
How lucky we are!

We can watch a crowd of thugs,
Or homeless derelicts crazed with drugs;
And children, what a lot we learn
From seeing how well hospitals burn!
There's always something good to see.

And children, when you reach an age
When you may wish to earn a wage,
You'll have such sick and morbid views,
You too can work in television news!


______________________________________

BRING THE SHEEP IN, LUCY

.
I'm sitting up in bed
In a strange room,
With other men:
They're in bed too.
I don't know who they are;
I don't like them.

They're mumbling to themselves,
Talking rubblish.
I wish they'd go away.

Where has the room gone?
It's suddenly disappeared;
Where is it?

I'm standing in my farmyard,
With my wife,
The treasure of my life,
Lovely Lucy; She's so beautiful.
"Bring the sheep in, Lucy," I say.
She smiles and runs into the field:
Her golden hair is shining in the sun;
I love her.

Suddenly I'm in the room again:
A woman comes;
She's wearing white.
"I've brought you a cup of tea," she says.
"Are you Lucy?" I ask.

She pours me some tea:
"Lucy's coming to see you soon," she says:
"Your grandson's bringing her;
"It's a long way for one so old."

My eyes are growing dim with tears;
My mind is filling with unstoppable fears,
That terrify me.

I don't know who I am.



___________________________________________

GRUESOME GORDON

.
Gruesome Gordon
Looks like thunder,
While he tears the nation
Asunder.


___________________________

BABY

.
Little life upon my knee
Gazes wonderingly at me;
He does not know,
Cannot foresee,
Or even dream of what will be.

O Lord, protect him,
Guard my little boy;
Shine your light upon his soul,
And fill his baby mind with joy.

Love has made him;
Love sustains him;
Now at last I understand,
That only love has any meaning,
Only love will never end.

Little life upon my knee,
There's so much you will learn from me.
Yet you, without a single word,
Have taught me truths
I could not see.


_______________________________________

Dedicated to Clare, with lots of love from Inspector Walrus




_____________________________________

PRIME MINISTER

Do you sleep at night, Prime Minister?
Do you think of the girls and boys
You sent to die,
Who don't know why,
And neither do you?

Do you wonder at what you do,
As you cling to power,
And pretend you're the hero of the hour?
Do you believe the fine words you've spoken?

Why can't you feel the pain
Of the shattered bodies and limbs
Of those who'll never walk again?
Do you think of those whose minds you've broken
By the horrors to which you've sent them,
The blood, the screams, the ruined young lives?

And do you think of their mothers and fathers
And brothers and sisters and friends?
Do you think of any of them,
When you're sanctimoniously singing hymns,
And boasting?


________________________________________

POLAR BEAR

.
Churchill is a town I love:
There's lots to eat there;
And naive people come to stare:
They've come to see us polar bears.

We amble down the snowy street,
And here and there are lumps of meat,
That have been thrown away;

And there are men and women
With telescopes,
Nervous and fearful yet full of hope,
Expecting to see starving bears;

For they've been told that food is scarce,
That melting ice won't let bears hunt,
And so we bears have borne the brunt
Of the delusion known as global warming,
Promoted by slick politicians:

So visitors ask the residents
Where they can find the evidence
Of melted floes,
Or photo thin and starving bears,
To prove the planet's on its knees,
Because it can no longer freeze.

But we just swagger down the street,
Replete and sated bears,
Where we've been coming for centuries
On our way to Hudson Bay;

And we laugh at the silly people
Who've come from afar,
When they grasp how they've been fooled
By lying politicians
And by notoriety-seeking money-grubbing
S0-called scientisits.

_________________________________

Note: Churchill is a town in Northern Canada on polar bears' ancient annual migration routes, now visited by hordes of "environmentalists", seeking evidence for "climate catastrophe". Many "climate researchers" withhold and distort facts which contradict their false dogma that humans have made the planet hotter.

GENERAL ELECTION 2010

.

Please let me strut about the world

For 5 years more,

In chauffeur-driven cars

And private jets,

And all at your expense:

Please don't see through me yet.



Please, please don't laugh

At my bloated body and squalid mind,

My wobbling jowls and childish scowls,

And at my senseless rages;



At how I try to humiliate my staff,

And throw my papers on the floor,

And if anyone dare to disagree

Or stand up to me,

I'm a master of the smear,

The sneer and the leer.



I've no more feeling

Than a fish on a slab:

All I have is the gift of the gab;

I'm a big bag of wind,

Of nastiness and spin,

Pretending to be wise,

For I neither say what I mean,

Nor mean what I say;

How lucky you can't read between the lies!



Please, please don't see through me yet,

How I've ruined your nation and stolen your freedom,

Cunningly concealing my sins,

So most of you haven't even noticed

That you're under the rule of a selfish fool.



Please let me hurl my bulky body around the globe

For 5 years more,

Instructing people how to live,

Pretending to be their saviour,

Deceiving them as I have deceived you.



Please, please don't see through me yet!

I so enjoy the feelings and trappings of power,

And endlessly posing as the man of the hour:



Please. please don't see through me yet!

Give me 5 years more!







_____________________________

welcome

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