Is this the end of a long golden age?
Can this continue or must it turn sour?
Has growth reached its limits? Time for shrinkage?
Can the earth stand greater demand for power,
Whether it’s coal-fired or it’s nuclear?
Is there a wind, a whole climate, of change,
Blowing, showing us that we must lower
The population, and must rearrange
Our politics of greed? Is this so strange?
Can we end conflict, sing from the same page,
Look after sky and sea, tree and flower?
Can we evolve? Is goodness out of range?
Or are we creatures in need of a cage
Before we run amok and self-devour?
Tue 9 Oct 2007
Friday 1 October 2010
399 - These days it seems no-one at all believes
These days it seems no-one at all believes
What politicians say. We’re all cynics,
Spinning our frosty autumn webs on leaves
No longer green, unsupportive of tricks.
We’re all fierce dogs, for whom they throw thin sticks,
Hoping to distance us and keep us sweet.
But we’ll foul up their park! Instead of licks,
They’ll get our jaws clamped on their trouser seat.
The public creature, once such easy meat,
No longer laps up master’s words, deceives
Him, turning like a wet worm. In a fix,
He fumbles for umbrella but is beat,
As year-end gales assail it. He achieves
Just muddy boots, the kind of mud that sticks.
Mon 8 Oct 2007
What politicians say. We’re all cynics,
Spinning our frosty autumn webs on leaves
No longer green, unsupportive of tricks.
We’re all fierce dogs, for whom they throw thin sticks,
Hoping to distance us and keep us sweet.
But we’ll foul up their park! Instead of licks,
They’ll get our jaws clamped on their trouser seat.
The public creature, once such easy meat,
No longer laps up master’s words, deceives
Him, turning like a wet worm. In a fix,
He fumbles for umbrella but is beat,
As year-end gales assail it. He achieves
Just muddy boots, the kind of mud that sticks.
Mon 8 Oct 2007
398 - We never really see things as they are
We never really see things as they are.
We look at the world through distorting eyes.
We twist and elongate, we miss and mar,
Especially when it comes to our own size.
This has been taught for decades; there’s no prize
For guessing which country we think the best.
Which species we love most you can surmise,
And also whether we like work or rest.
Since we were suckled on our mother’s breast,
We’ve taught ourselves to look in the mirror
Dishonestly, distraught when we hear lies
From others who are not quite as impressed.
Well never mind, just smile for the camera
And for them all, and learn to compromise.
Sun 7 Oct 2007
We look at the world through distorting eyes.
We twist and elongate, we miss and mar,
Especially when it comes to our own size.
This has been taught for decades; there’s no prize
For guessing which country we think the best.
Which species we love most you can surmise,
And also whether we like work or rest.
Since we were suckled on our mother’s breast,
We’ve taught ourselves to look in the mirror
Dishonestly, distraught when we hear lies
From others who are not quite as impressed.
Well never mind, just smile for the camera
And for them all, and learn to compromise.
Sun 7 Oct 2007
397 - A day of shocks at the Rugby World Cup
A day of shocks at the Rugby World Cup
As England beat their old foe Australia
And France beat favourites New Zealand. Shakeup
As north feeds south a bitter taste - failure!
Hey, Wallabies, smell the roses, will ya?
Kiwis kicked by the Cockerels where it hurts.
Get on those early flights south; they’ll sell ya
The tickets at the airport. Take your shirts
And wash ’em in the Pacific. That dirt’s
An unwanted souvenir of Europe!
The World Cup trophy’s the holy grail, yeah!
From antipodean eyes tears fall in spurts!
Let’s hope Scotland trip Argentina up
Tomorrow. If they do, Jocks, I’ll hail ya!
Sat 6 Oct 2007
As England beat their old foe Australia
And France beat favourites New Zealand. Shakeup
As north feeds south a bitter taste - failure!
Hey, Wallabies, smell the roses, will ya?
Kiwis kicked by the Cockerels where it hurts.
Get on those early flights south; they’ll sell ya
The tickets at the airport. Take your shirts
And wash ’em in the Pacific. That dirt’s
An unwanted souvenir of Europe!
The World Cup trophy’s the holy grail, yeah!
From antipodean eyes tears fall in spurts!
Let’s hope Scotland trip Argentina up
Tomorrow. If they do, Jocks, I’ll hail ya!
Sat 6 Oct 2007
396 - Size zero models: where does the fault lie?
Size zero models: where does the fault lie?
Do men or women take the blame, d’you think?
Do all men love skeletal girls? Then why
Is there such pressure to look like a drink
Of water, streak of piss? There she goes! Blink
And you’ll miss her. Beware her dagger bones
When you’re kissing and cuddling, on the brink,
But struggling to hold on to her. Her moans
May just be hunger. Old feminist groans
Forgotten in mad rush to surgery.
Boob jobs reverse gravitational sink,
Enlarge, reduce, shapeshifting paid with loans.
Investing in sexist society,
Conforming, confirming. Pretty in pink.
Fri 5 Oct 2007
Do men or women take the blame, d’you think?
Do all men love skeletal girls? Then why
Is there such pressure to look like a drink
Of water, streak of piss? There she goes! Blink
And you’ll miss her. Beware her dagger bones
When you’re kissing and cuddling, on the brink,
But struggling to hold on to her. Her moans
May just be hunger. Old feminist groans
Forgotten in mad rush to surgery.
Boob jobs reverse gravitational sink,
Enlarge, reduce, shapeshifting paid with loans.
Investing in sexist society,
Conforming, confirming. Pretty in pink.
Fri 5 Oct 2007
395 - It's funny, I'm kind of scared to tempt fate
It’s funny, I’m kind of scared to tempt fate,
By saying lately it’s been quieter
At night. Last night I slept through until eight,
And so today everything felt righter.
That sinking feeling as it gets lighter
Outside, and eyes are burning, brain turning,
Replaying some tune, melodic fighter
That won’t leave me alone, now I’m spurning.
No more nocturnal clock watching. Learning
To relax. I’ve made no more notes of late
About the noisy neighbours. They might have
Moved on, rented their flats to discerning,
Considerate people who don’t deviate
From the rules. Ahh, my nights have got brighter!
Thur 4 Sep 2007
By saying lately it’s been quieter
At night. Last night I slept through until eight,
And so today everything felt righter.
That sinking feeling as it gets lighter
Outside, and eyes are burning, brain turning,
Replaying some tune, melodic fighter
That won’t leave me alone, now I’m spurning.
No more nocturnal clock watching. Learning
To relax. I’ve made no more notes of late
About the noisy neighbours. They might have
Moved on, rented their flats to discerning,
Considerate people who don’t deviate
From the rules. Ahh, my nights have got brighter!
Thur 4 Sep 2007
394 - Not having much time concentrates the mind
Not having much time concentrates the mind,
And I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes.
But, if there’s time, before then I’ve assigned
Myself two tasks: write one of my sonnets,
Then cook and eat, because hunger’s got its
Claws in me once more. I see piles of beans.
Tomato sauce cascades in rivulets
Down cliffs of jacket spud; picture these scenes.
Take off your muddy jacket - someone cleans
Up after you hopefully - and unwind
With an enormous plate of grub that fits
Your stomach hole (but don’t forget your greens).
This fantasy of food’s making me blind
To all but fulfilling it. Come on, let’s!
Wed 3 Oct 2007
And I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes.
But, if there’s time, before then I’ve assigned
Myself two tasks: write one of my sonnets,
Then cook and eat, because hunger’s got its
Claws in me once more. I see piles of beans.
Tomato sauce cascades in rivulets
Down cliffs of jacket spud; picture these scenes.
Take off your muddy jacket - someone cleans
Up after you hopefully - and unwind
With an enormous plate of grub that fits
Your stomach hole (but don’t forget your greens).
This fantasy of food’s making me blind
To all but fulfilling it. Come on, let’s!
Wed 3 Oct 2007
393 - Beethoven's Ninth spins 'neath the keys as I
Beethoven’s Ninth spins ’neath the keys as I
Try to bestow its heavenly soaring
With words that flow or flap like wings in sky
Of happy birds toward their God nearing.
The vigorous second movement’s starting;
Meanwhile, Ludwig’s chorus shift nervously
On seats as they see audience scanning
Their features; tension builds ominously.
But forgive, I forget it’s a CD,
And I’m not in row two, Noseda high
Above, his back sweaty from conducting.
The slow adagio. Go make your tea -
Fish, peas, potato - to eat as the pie
In the sky Ode to Joy is climaxing.
Tue 2 Oct 2007
Try to bestow its heavenly soaring
With words that flow or flap like wings in sky
Of happy birds toward their God nearing.
The vigorous second movement’s starting;
Meanwhile, Ludwig’s chorus shift nervously
On seats as they see audience scanning
Their features; tension builds ominously.
But forgive, I forget it’s a CD,
And I’m not in row two, Noseda high
Above, his back sweaty from conducting.
The slow adagio. Go make your tea -
Fish, peas, potato - to eat as the pie
In the sky Ode to Joy is climaxing.
Tue 2 Oct 2007
392 - October should be the eighth month but ain't
October should be the eighth month but ain’t
An octopus ain’t got ten tentacles
Octagons with ten sides should show restraint
And why ain’t it Octember? More riddles.
Why pay for food with holes in the middles
Like doughnuts, Polo mints, biscuits and sweets?
Methinks these gimmicks are really fiddles
To rip us off when we pay for our treats.
I do know though why us men have two teats
Though it might make macho men feel quite faint
It’s coz all men start in the womb as girls
Then grow their bits as mummy eats and eats.
I can be serious, but ain’t no saint
This time my rhyme’s just meant to raise chuckles.
Mon 1 Oct 2007
An octopus ain’t got ten tentacles
Octagons with ten sides should show restraint
And why ain’t it Octember? More riddles.
Why pay for food with holes in the middles
Like doughnuts, Polo mints, biscuits and sweets?
Methinks these gimmicks are really fiddles
To rip us off when we pay for our treats.
I do know though why us men have two teats
Though it might make macho men feel quite faint
It’s coz all men start in the womb as girls
Then grow their bits as mummy eats and eats.
I can be serious, but ain’t no saint
This time my rhyme’s just meant to raise chuckles.
Mon 1 Oct 2007
391 - My daughter's goldfish died, so mummy said
My daughter’s goldfish died, so mummy said
An angel came and took it up to heaven;
That’s where it had magically disappeared.
(If only we had cleaned its bowl more often!)
When I was young, like most kids, I was driven
To own a pet fish, but they usually died
Before too long. I remember being given
My fish in a bag by a fairground ride.
When I was only a toddler, they tried
To house train a puppy, but they got fed
Up with its constant pooing; then tried living
With cats, and that was that: all satisfied,
Although my runny nose indicated
A feline allergy. They’re now forbidden.
Sun 30 Sep 2007
An angel came and took it up to heaven;
That’s where it had magically disappeared.
(If only we had cleaned its bowl more often!)
When I was young, like most kids, I was driven
To own a pet fish, but they usually died
Before too long. I remember being given
My fish in a bag by a fairground ride.
When I was only a toddler, they tried
To house train a puppy, but they got fed
Up with its constant pooing; then tried living
With cats, and that was that: all satisfied,
Although my runny nose indicated
A feline allergy. They’re now forbidden.
Sun 30 Sep 2007
390 - If to intervene in Iraq was wrong
If to intervene in Iraq was wrong,
Then we must also leave Burma alone,
Now that the monk-led crowd have heard the gong
That ends their act, to our half-hearted groan.
The law says there must be a wider zone
Affected by events. This sadly lets
Soldier states struggle on till they lie prone
In pools of brown and red, weighed down by debts,
Disease and hunger. Though the UN frets,
There’s little can be done. Money is strong,
Stronger than armies. China is a clone
Of western greed now, and the Soviets.
A new generation will come along
In Burma and elsewhere. The seeds are sown.
Sat 29 Sep 2007
Then we must also leave Burma alone,
Now that the monk-led crowd have heard the gong
That ends their act, to our half-hearted groan.
The law says there must be a wider zone
Affected by events. This sadly lets
Soldier states struggle on till they lie prone
In pools of brown and red, weighed down by debts,
Disease and hunger. Though the UN frets,
There’s little can be done. Money is strong,
Stronger than armies. China is a clone
Of western greed now, and the Soviets.
A new generation will come along
In Burma and elsewhere. The seeds are sown.
Sat 29 Sep 2007
389 - It's been a nice night out but now I'm tired
It’s been a nice night out but now I’m tired
Looking forward to crashing out in bed,
Departing from the real world, retired
Into the land of dreams, vanity fed,
Taking the centre stage. Once more I tread
The boards of fantasy, an ego trip
In which I find that romance is not dead,
And I empty my bladder, drip drip drip.
Reality’s just me lying, this strip
Of flesh and bone in underpants attired,
Oblivious to all that’s done and said,
The autopilot of a lost ghost ship.
And so, digesting the meal I admired,
I sink fast, like a zeppelin of lead.
Fri 28 Sep 2007
Looking forward to crashing out in bed,
Departing from the real world, retired
Into the land of dreams, vanity fed,
Taking the centre stage. Once more I tread
The boards of fantasy, an ego trip
In which I find that romance is not dead,
And I empty my bladder, drip drip drip.
Reality’s just me lying, this strip
Of flesh and bone in underpants attired,
Oblivious to all that’s done and said,
The autopilot of a lost ghost ship.
And so, digesting the meal I admired,
I sink fast, like a zeppelin of lead.
Fri 28 Sep 2007
389 - It's been a nice night out but now I'm tired
It’s been a nice night out but now I’m tired
Looking forward to crashing out in bed,
Departing from the real world, retired
Into the land of dreams, vanity fed,
Taking the centre stage. Once more I tread
The boards of fantasy, an ego trip
In which I find that romance is not dead,
And I empty my bladder, drip drip drip.
Reality’s just me lying, this strip
Of flesh and bone in underpants attired,
Oblivious to all that’s done and said,
The autopilot of a lost ghost ship.
And so, digesting the meal I admired,
I sink fast, like a zeppelin of lead.
Fri 28 Sep 2007
Looking forward to crashing out in bed,
Departing from the real world, retired
Into the land of dreams, vanity fed,
Taking the centre stage. Once more I tread
The boards of fantasy, an ego trip
In which I find that romance is not dead,
And I empty my bladder, drip drip drip.
Reality’s just me lying, this strip
Of flesh and bone in underpants attired,
Oblivious to all that’s done and said,
The autopilot of a lost ghost ship.
And so, digesting the meal I admired,
I sink fast, like a zeppelin of lead.
Fri 28 Sep 2007
388 - Orgasmic supernova, spread your seed
Orgasmic supernova, spread your seed
Across the supine space, finding tiny
Eggs, watery planets ready to breed,
Impregnated by comets, hot, shiny.
Diseased insects, blown over the briny
North seas, infect British cows with bluetongue,
The virus injected, porcupiny,
Turning empires of bovine cells to dung.
The oil wells east of Palestine have sung
Their siren song, and investors decreed
Leaders should hire invaders, screw whiny
Impeders. “Feed us well,” the cracked bell rang.
Death and life intertwining, mutual need,
Deep breath striving to come, freed, finally.
Thur 27 Sep 2007
Across the supine space, finding tiny
Eggs, watery planets ready to breed,
Impregnated by comets, hot, shiny.
Diseased insects, blown over the briny
North seas, infect British cows with bluetongue,
The virus injected, porcupiny,
Turning empires of bovine cells to dung.
The oil wells east of Palestine have sung
Their siren song, and investors decreed
Leaders should hire invaders, screw whiny
Impeders. “Feed us well,” the cracked bell rang.
Death and life intertwining, mutual need,
Deep breath striving to come, freed, finally.
Thur 27 Sep 2007
387 - Sunset, pink and blue closing of a day
Sunset, pink and blue closing of a day,
Regret for those except creatures of night,
Don’t let the sun sink below, there to stay:
We set this feast before its fading light.
Our offering, though filled with fear and fright,
Will often, after draughts of wine and praise,
Quite soften her slow will; revered in white,
She suffers not, this daughter of the rays.
The red wine from her vessels now we raise
Instead of that from grape, and then we pray
Your wedding is successful, that you might
Have bled her gratefully, and fed our maize.
Her mother, for the rest of her days, may
We love her, placed up on pedestal’s height.
Wed 26 Sep 2007
Regret for those except creatures of night,
Don’t let the sun sink below, there to stay:
We set this feast before its fading light.
Our offering, though filled with fear and fright,
Will often, after draughts of wine and praise,
Quite soften her slow will; revered in white,
She suffers not, this daughter of the rays.
The red wine from her vessels now we raise
Instead of that from grape, and then we pray
Your wedding is successful, that you might
Have bled her gratefully, and fed our maize.
Her mother, for the rest of her days, may
We love her, placed up on pedestal’s height.
Wed 26 Sep 2007
386 - A novel is a long, long story
A novel is a long, long short story
With lots of plot, sex, drugs, murders and stuff,
Realistic characters like those we see
Around us everyday, but not as tough
To understand. We only need a rough
Idea of them from descriptions of clothes,
Their house, the way they talk; that is enough
For stereotypes to kick in. One of those
Young city whizz kids, maybe, who’d oppose
All niceness, even to his family.
It’s fine if you’ve got spare time, but it’s fluff,
Like edgy TV drama, up my nose.
Not too much plot, but more philosophy
And poetry makes me a reading buff.
Tue 25 Sep 2007
With lots of plot, sex, drugs, murders and stuff,
Realistic characters like those we see
Around us everyday, but not as tough
To understand. We only need a rough
Idea of them from descriptions of clothes,
Their house, the way they talk; that is enough
For stereotypes to kick in. One of those
Young city whizz kids, maybe, who’d oppose
All niceness, even to his family.
It’s fine if you’ve got spare time, but it’s fluff,
Like edgy TV drama, up my nose.
Not too much plot, but more philosophy
And poetry makes me a reading buff.
Tue 25 Sep 2007
385 - Tap tap tap tap, t-typing all day long
Tap tap tap tap, t-typing all day long
Tap tap tap tap, and half the evening too
By day I keep UK taxation strong
By night I post poems and email you
My diligent digits determined to
Detail the data, dating and stating
Starting and stopping, darting, dotting. Q
At top left, while at top right, P’s popping
Up down up down, tap tap tap, tip-topping
The funky fingers tap dancing along
Treading the keyboards till they all turn blue
You’ll never be bored. Man, this desk’s rocking!
Tap tap tap tap, t-typing tuneless song
The time is ripe to stop, line fourteen’s through
Mon 24 Sep 2007
Tap tap tap tap, and half the evening too
By day I keep UK taxation strong
By night I post poems and email you
My diligent digits determined to
Detail the data, dating and stating
Starting and stopping, darting, dotting. Q
At top left, while at top right, P’s popping
Up down up down, tap tap tap, tip-topping
The funky fingers tap dancing along
Treading the keyboards till they all turn blue
You’ll never be bored. Man, this desk’s rocking!
Tap tap tap tap, t-typing tuneless song
The time is ripe to stop, line fourteen’s through
Mon 24 Sep 2007
384 - Trum trum trum trum, tr-travelling on the train
Trum trum trum trum, tr-travelling on the train,
Trum trum trum trum, the tube train in London,
Trum trum … oh dear, trum, it’s stopping again
In a dark tunnel, and the whole world’s on.
I see two happy men, they’re African,
Hear confident tones of Canuck or Yank;
Unable to phone, East European,
The thick walls of the underground to thank.
Hum hum hum hum, h-headphones, faces blank,
Or young partygoers, the girls so vain,
The men viewing a leg exhibition,
Not eager for the train to get to Bank.
Trum, starting again, trum, they did explain
The stoppage, trum, but were heard by no-one.
Sun 23 Sep 2007
Trum trum trum trum, the tube train in London,
Trum trum … oh dear, trum, it’s stopping again
In a dark tunnel, and the whole world’s on.
I see two happy men, they’re African,
Hear confident tones of Canuck or Yank;
Unable to phone, East European,
The thick walls of the underground to thank.
Hum hum hum hum, h-headphones, faces blank,
Or young partygoers, the girls so vain,
The men viewing a leg exhibition,
Not eager for the train to get to Bank.
Trum, starting again, trum, they did explain
The stoppage, trum, but were heard by no-one.
Sun 23 Sep 2007
383 - Another trip to London town water
Another trip to London town today.
First stop Tesco to buy the crisps and coke;
Then onto that fine M6 motorway:
Just me and Louis heading for the smoke.
The M40 near Coventry’s the spoke
Of the road network that we’ll take, and then
M25 to Hounslow, where this bloke
Once showed me a great parking space, and when
We’re there, a short walk to the tube system,
Return to Putney Bridge, climb steps to day-
Light, walk through Bishops Park, avoid the choke
Of heavy traffic, by the Thames. Fulham
FC’s stadium is just there. They play
Man City, who, under Sven, are no joke.
Sat 22 Sep 2007
First stop Tesco to buy the crisps and coke;
Then onto that fine M6 motorway:
Just me and Louis heading for the smoke.
The M40 near Coventry’s the spoke
Of the road network that we’ll take, and then
M25 to Hounslow, where this bloke
Once showed me a great parking space, and when
We’re there, a short walk to the tube system,
Return to Putney Bridge, climb steps to day-
Light, walk through Bishops Park, avoid the choke
Of heavy traffic, by the Thames. Fulham
FC’s stadium is just there. They play
Man City, who, under Sven, are no joke.
Sat 22 Sep 2007
382 - The English can be orderly, polite
The English can be orderly, polite;
As you know, they queue though there’s no need to.
At the same time, they don’t half love a fight;
Weekend pavements spread thick with blood and spew.
They feel guilt for invading, but still do;
Brilliant at inventing, organising,
They thought up sports but can’t say ‘I love you;’
They’re pants at dancing, muddling at cuddling,
But sex, drugs, rock n roll, all are their thing,
Even if just on the TV each night!
Marmite and cheese on toast; fancy a brew?
They love their freedom, save their queen or king.
Each windy beach that features dog and kite
Attests to western Europe’s island crew.
Fri 21 Sep 2007
As you know, they queue though there’s no need to.
At the same time, they don’t half love a fight;
Weekend pavements spread thick with blood and spew.
They feel guilt for invading, but still do;
Brilliant at inventing, organising,
They thought up sports but can’t say ‘I love you;’
They’re pants at dancing, muddling at cuddling,
But sex, drugs, rock n roll, all are their thing,
Even if just on the TV each night!
Marmite and cheese on toast; fancy a brew?
They love their freedom, save their queen or king.
Each windy beach that features dog and kite
Attests to western Europe’s island crew.
Fri 21 Sep 2007
381 - Brother, the tales you hear are really grim
Brother, the tales you hear are really grim,
Of evil queens who poison pretty girls
And goddesses that wreak vengeance on him
Who scorns their beauty; how they shake their curls!
That green-eyed monster usually first uncurls
When only child becomes first born of two;
No longer centre of it all, these churls
Detest all new arrivals, rivals to
Their hogging of the hugging. Me and you
Have seen some mean girls throwing a tantrum
Like some puffed up rock star who nightly hurls
TVs or guitars (Who could that be? Who?)
Attention must be paid, yes, but let’s skim
Attention seekers. Let’s dive deep for pearls.
Thur 20 Sep 2007
Of evil queens who poison pretty girls
And goddesses that wreak vengeance on him
Who scorns their beauty; how they shake their curls!
That green-eyed monster usually first uncurls
When only child becomes first born of two;
No longer centre of it all, these churls
Detest all new arrivals, rivals to
Their hogging of the hugging. Me and you
Have seen some mean girls throwing a tantrum
Like some puffed up rock star who nightly hurls
TVs or guitars (Who could that be? Who?)
Attention must be paid, yes, but let’s skim
Attention seekers. Let’s dive deep for pearls.
Thur 20 Sep 2007
380 - OJ's been caught. Outside court, supporters
OJ’s been caught. Outside court, supporters
Hold banners; the man is not short of fans.
All sorts of scenes are seen, as reporters
Have taught us all of his bail conditions.
I would have thought those with televisions
Would sell the things, including newly-bought
Ones, rather than watch what Americans
Will see soon. Kid Nation? They kid you naught.
Back in court, old Phil Spector’s jury’s caught
Reflecting, is he guilty? Some thought he’s
Not. What a wrecking crew of decisions.
Spectre of what he ought; spectator sport.
I’ve used the news from USA. Writers
Amuse themselves this way in their thousands.
Wed 19 Sep 2007
Hold banners; the man is not short of fans.
All sorts of scenes are seen, as reporters
Have taught us all of his bail conditions.
I would have thought those with televisions
Would sell the things, including newly-bought
Ones, rather than watch what Americans
Will see soon. Kid Nation? They kid you naught.
Back in court, old Phil Spector’s jury’s caught
Reflecting, is he guilty? Some thought he’s
Not. What a wrecking crew of decisions.
Spectre of what he ought; spectator sport.
I’ve used the news from USA. Writers
Amuse themselves this way in their thousands.
Wed 19 Sep 2007
379 - From Manchester to Birmingham return
From Manchester to Birmingham return,
This train trip took me back, and not only
In space, along its track, for me to earn
My corn, discussing oil excise duty,
But also back in time, to a city
I knew when young, but how it’s changed! The names
Of streets are the same, but I would not see;
My eyes rejecting the new, as my brain’s
Picturing old shops, old buses, old trains
From 25 years ago. To relearn,
Retrace, retread (the opportunity
My meeting gave), a search for what remains
Of memories of former things. I turn
Some pages on Proust to pass my journey.
Tue 18 Sep 2007
This train trip took me back, and not only
In space, along its track, for me to earn
My corn, discussing oil excise duty,
But also back in time, to a city
I knew when young, but how it’s changed! The names
Of streets are the same, but I would not see;
My eyes rejecting the new, as my brain’s
Picturing old shops, old buses, old trains
From 25 years ago. To relearn,
Retrace, retread (the opportunity
My meeting gave), a search for what remains
Of memories of former things. I turn
Some pages on Proust to pass my journey.
Tue 18 Sep 2007
378 - Free will is like political freedom
Free will is like political freedom:
It’s there, but kept in check by many laws,
Physical forces, some we know, and some
Hidden from sight, perhaps in a good cause,
Because most of us are selfish, of course;
Given the choice, we’d choose the most and best,
So peace must be maintained, preventing wars
Between man and man, as with east and west.
So some are born strong and, meanwhile, the rest
Learn to be good and kind, and not to come
Asking for more, to be content with chores,
Speaking occasionally, then repressed.
Of course we can choose which shoes to put on;
Of course we vote in whispers, not in roars.
Mon 17 Sep 2007
It’s there, but kept in check by many laws,
Physical forces, some we know, and some
Hidden from sight, perhaps in a good cause,
Because most of us are selfish, of course;
Given the choice, we’d choose the most and best,
So peace must be maintained, preventing wars
Between man and man, as with east and west.
So some are born strong and, meanwhile, the rest
Learn to be good and kind, and not to come
Asking for more, to be content with chores,
Speaking occasionally, then repressed.
Of course we can choose which shoes to put on;
Of course we vote in whispers, not in roars.
Mon 17 Sep 2007
377 - Reading a magazine about writing
Reading a magazine about writing,
My cup of coffee on the floor nearby,
I found the experience depressing,
The editors hinting we shouldn’t try
To write what we want but what they would buy.
But if I’m not like them, and I must write
Only of what I know, in that case why
Bother, since they’re not interested? They’re quite
Stuffy, their readership’s retired and white-
Haired, their tired tips on authorship stifling,
Like ‘Don’t rhyme moon with June.’ Despite this, I
Then read the winners - those who can write right -
Of a moon-themed contest. Such cute rhyming.
Short stories where their partners always die.
Sun 16 Sep 2007
My cup of coffee on the floor nearby,
I found the experience depressing,
The editors hinting we shouldn’t try
To write what we want but what they would buy.
But if I’m not like them, and I must write
Only of what I know, in that case why
Bother, since they’re not interested? They’re quite
Stuffy, their readership’s retired and white-
Haired, their tired tips on authorship stifling,
Like ‘Don’t rhyme moon with June.’ Despite this, I
Then read the winners - those who can write right -
Of a moon-themed contest. Such cute rhyming.
Short stories where their partners always die.
Sun 16 Sep 2007
376 - As we draw nearer to the pit of death
As we draw nearer to the pit of death
We become customers of religion,
Because the prospect of being beneath
The soil, deaf, blind and dumb’s not a good one.
We want our sensual pleasure to live on,
Even if we don’t quite believe in hell,
And think we might be bored up in heaven;
On lonely nights we hear that tolling bell.
Some like to mingle with church folk who sell
Their brand of salvation, consoling grief
Collectively. Some single minds function
As their own prophet, some new tale to tell.
But brave are they who draw their final breath
Prepared for probable black extinction.
Sat 15 Sep 2007
We become customers of religion,
Because the prospect of being beneath
The soil, deaf, blind and dumb’s not a good one.
We want our sensual pleasure to live on,
Even if we don’t quite believe in hell,
And think we might be bored up in heaven;
On lonely nights we hear that tolling bell.
Some like to mingle with church folk who sell
Their brand of salvation, consoling grief
Collectively. Some single minds function
As their own prophet, some new tale to tell.
But brave are they who draw their final breath
Prepared for probable black extinction.
Sat 15 Sep 2007
375 - Angola, Austria, Azerbaijan
Angola, Austria, Azerbaijan,
Brazil, Bangladesh and Bulgaria,
Chile, China, Deutschland and Dagestan,
England, Ecuador, Ethiopia.
France, Greenland, Haiti and Indonesia,
Japan, Korea, Latvia, Lapland,
Mexico, Mozambique, Nicaragua,
Oman, Pakistan, Poland and Queensland.
Russia, Spain, Sierra Leone, Scotland,
Sudan, Sweden, Turkey, Turkmenistan,
Tajikistan, Thailand, Tanzania,
USA, Vietnam, West Indies Land.
Ex-Soviet states, Yemen, Zimbabwe. Man!
Can you state why we need them? Me neither!
Fri 14 Sep 2007
Brazil, Bangladesh and Bulgaria,
Chile, China, Deutschland and Dagestan,
England, Ecuador, Ethiopia.
France, Greenland, Haiti and Indonesia,
Japan, Korea, Latvia, Lapland,
Mexico, Mozambique, Nicaragua,
Oman, Pakistan, Poland and Queensland.
Russia, Spain, Sierra Leone, Scotland,
Sudan, Sweden, Turkey, Turkmenistan,
Tajikistan, Thailand, Tanzania,
USA, Vietnam, West Indies Land.
Ex-Soviet states, Yemen, Zimbabwe. Man!
Can you state why we need them? Me neither!
Fri 14 Sep 2007
374 - The real meaning of living is to live
The real meaning of living is to live;
That’s the feature of creatures large and small.
Yes, having offspring’s the thing if you give
As well as take, but make no mistake: all
That calls to cells from nucleus to wall
Is DNA, saying “Do anything,
As long as you unravel my string ball,
And play with me a while. Go travelling
In style, or, like reptile does, do nothing
But keep living.” This seeps in through the sieve
Holes of your soul, like North Pole seals that crawl
The snow, not knowing how, why, just going.
Life wears out, hair falls out, but all forgive
The decline. Be so kind to stall the fall.
Thur 13 Sep 2007
That’s the feature of creatures large and small.
Yes, having offspring’s the thing if you give
As well as take, but make no mistake: all
That calls to cells from nucleus to wall
Is DNA, saying “Do anything,
As long as you unravel my string ball,
And play with me a while. Go travelling
In style, or, like reptile does, do nothing
But keep living.” This seeps in through the sieve
Holes of your soul, like North Pole seals that crawl
The snow, not knowing how, why, just going.
Life wears out, hair falls out, but all forgive
The decline. Be so kind to stall the fall.
Thur 13 Sep 2007
373 - Sustainability plans, borderless
Sustainability plans, borderless,
Continent-wide, world-wide, must be devised,
In which all the areas in a mess
Right now can be cleaned up, future revised.
Not just geographic - have you surmised? -
But areas of our activity,
And all of these things need to be downsized
To what can be supported naturally.
Levels of population linked to the
Resources: rivers, fertile land, unless
We want millions to stay poor, be excised
By flood, drought, war, meteor; well, do we?
Or should we manage earth and us? Confess:
We’re not now, and our future’s compromised.
Continent-wide, world-wide, must be devised,
In which all the areas in a mess
Right now can be cleaned up, future revised.
Not just geographic - have you surmised? -
But areas of our activity,
And all of these things need to be downsized
To what can be supported naturally.
Levels of population linked to the
Resources: rivers, fertile land, unless
We want millions to stay poor, be excised
By flood, drought, war, meteor; well, do we?
Or should we manage earth and us? Confess:
We’re not now, and our future’s compromised.
372 - Sixth anniversary. I remember
Sixth anniversary. I remember
Someone in Sainsbury’s supermarket
Telling me that hot day in September
2001 that the towers were hit.
I needed somewhere fast where I could sit
And listen to the news. My old green Ford
Sierra Sapphire afforded me it,
And as I tuned in, that is when I heard
The second tower had fallen like a sword
In the west’s south side. Could they dismember
It? By evening, as three stunned housemates met
To watch, no invasion came from abroad.
Assassin’s sudden stab, retreat, ember
Of history’s end and heedless profit.
Tue 11 Sep 2007
Someone in Sainsbury’s supermarket
Telling me that hot day in September
2001 that the towers were hit.
I needed somewhere fast where I could sit
And listen to the news. My old green Ford
Sierra Sapphire afforded me it,
And as I tuned in, that is when I heard
The second tower had fallen like a sword
In the west’s south side. Could they dismember
It? By evening, as three stunned housemates met
To watch, no invasion came from abroad.
Assassin’s sudden stab, retreat, ember
Of history’s end and heedless profit.
Tue 11 Sep 2007
371 - The peanut crunchers stood at Sylvia's grave
The peanut crunchers stood at Sylvia’s grave,
So to speak, Birthday Letters in their car,
Because, like Sylvia, we readers crave
A meeting with dead writers near and far.
She and Ted went to Haworth, up the moor,
Looking for Wuth’ring Heights, fantasising,
Just like us, in the Black Bull for a jar,
Book-buying, church and parsonage seeing,
But no Brontë saw us (extinct being).
In Hebden Bridge, where we shopped, I was brave
Upon seeing that great record shop door
Locked shut on Mondays, but enjoyed eating
Once more at the Inn on the Bridge, cool cave,
Respite from sun, discussing literature.
Mon 10 Sep 2007
So to speak, Birthday Letters in their car,
Because, like Sylvia, we readers crave
A meeting with dead writers near and far.
She and Ted went to Haworth, up the moor,
Looking for Wuth’ring Heights, fantasising,
Just like us, in the Black Bull for a jar,
Book-buying, church and parsonage seeing,
But no Brontë saw us (extinct being).
In Hebden Bridge, where we shopped, I was brave
Upon seeing that great record shop door
Locked shut on Mondays, but enjoyed eating
Once more at the Inn on the Bridge, cool cave,
Respite from sun, discussing literature.
Mon 10 Sep 2007
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