POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek

[keithgood838]

GUILEFUL GRANDEUR

Thank you Eman, here is some telltale info,
tittle-tattle that most folk may not know:
the fourth funnel on the White Star liners
was just for show.

Keith

[Eman]

Keith!!

[keithgood838]

DEMOCRATIC DISILLUSION

The Axelrod worked loose from the Labour machine
and ditched the party's election 'aspiration'
while the hubristic Edstone was ready-made
to mark the suffocating traumatisation;
now the imminent fiscal axe is poised to fall
on the hapless poor in the name of consodilation.

Keith Good

[ROBERT M.]

People will regret their election voting decisions before long ...............12 billion welfare cuts ........how can they do THAT...........plus the atrocious Bedroom Tax is still here thanks to the Lib Dems not voting with Labour last time.............the poor get very poorer and the rich don't give a damn .............why can't people remember that the Tory's look after the rich while Labour look after the poor.

[keithgood838]

DEMOCRACY DERIDED

The satirist, Robert, is duty bound to be median,
but the old saw says that however we vote
the government always gets in;
and through our skewed system it only needs
about a third of votes cast to win.

[keithgood838]

This 13 June is the 150th anniversary of the birth of Ireland's
greatest poet, W.B. Yeats.
Aengus was the god of love, youth and poetic inspiration in
Irish mythology:

THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

I went out to the hazel wood
Because a fire was in my head;
and cut and peeled a hazel wand,
and hooked a berry to a thread,
And when white moths were on the wing,
and moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I has laid it on the floor,
I went to blow the fire a-flame
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name;
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair,
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands,
And walk among the dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon
And golden apples of the sun.

O DO NOT LOVE TOO LONG

Sweetheart, do not love too long;
I loved long and long;
And grew to be out of fashion
Like and old song.

All through the years of our youth
Neither could have known
Their own thoughts from the other's,
We were so much at one.

But O, in a minute she changed -
O do not love too long
Or you will grow out of fashion
Like an old song.

William Butler Yeats

PS The poet died in 1939, long before Matt's
uplifting, refashioning rendition (among others)
of the old song, The Clouds Will Soon Roll By.

[Eman]

Yeats, I've always liked him and enjoyed his poems in college.

[keithgood838]

Why don't you share a favourite poem with us, Eman.
I would like to see contributions from other forum members
hereon. I posted 'To Sleep' by John Keats here recently:
'O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
Shutting with careful fingers and benign
Our gloom-pleased eyes, embowered from the light ...'
The poet completed the metaphor in the last line:
'And seal the hushed casket of my soul.'
Here is another on the subject for folk who may
encounter trouble sleeping; I am fortunate in being
able to cross the border into dreamland without difficulty:

SLEEP IN POETRY

What is more gentle than a wind in summer?
What is more gentle than a pretty hummer
That stays one moment in an open flower
And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower?
What is more tranquil than a musk-rose blowing
In a green island, far from all men's knowing?
More healthful than the leafiness of dales?
More secret than a nest of nightingales?
More serene than Cordelia's countenance?
More full of visions than a high romance?
What but thee sleep? Soft-closer of our eyes!
Low murmurer of tender lullabies!
Light hoverer around our happy pillows!
Wreather of poppy buds, and weeping willows!
Silent entangler of a beauty's tresses!
Most happy listener! When the morning blesses
Thee for enlivening all the eyes
That glance so brightly at the new sunrise.

John Keats
(1795-1821)

[keithgood838]

ROADSIDE RELIEF

To cut costs the under-resourced council
cut back on cash-hungry hedgerow trimming
with repercussions risibly perverse
when overgrown foliage occluding
speed cameras produced the wry reverse.

Keith Good

[keithgood838]

THE ECONOMY DRIVE

On pay, the driver has put his foot
firmly on the accelerator,
while slamming the tax credits gear lever
into reverse;
making the journey from poverty
take much longer
as the working poor's road ahead
goes from bumpy to worse.

Keith Good

[keithgood838]

COSMIC CROONERS

Among the Cecilia constellation of singing stars
illuminating the popular music firmament:
Frank, Bing, Tony, Nat, Perry, Deano,
Jack, Andy and Johnny,
each of whom is still, in some entertainment
capacity, putting on a timeless musical show;
and integral to that heavenly hegemony
is Matt, lodestar to the cluster Monro.

Keith Good

[keithgood838]

STAR SCARCITY

Exciting bright stars are born somewhere
as part of each galaxy's formation,
but will a new star ever appear
in the Cecilia constellation?

[keithgood838]

CARELESSNESS

It is folly to feel fretful
about becoming forgetful;
it is time to be regretful
when forgetting being forgetful,
thence the descent to the nothingness
of worry-free lack of awareness.

Keith Good

[Lena & Harry Smith]

Keith, we were actually discussing this subject of forgetfulness yesterday, but were recently reassured that as long as we are aware of each act of forgetfullness, like mislaying keys or not rememembering a name it's no problem.

[Eman]

Wow yeah, I know what it's like to be forgetful. I kinda freak out when I think I haven't unplugged the coffee pot or closed the garage door and have to make a quick turn back to make sure I did.