Coming back to earth is very hard When a loved one’s gone, the heart feels charred You took them to the gate but had to leave And now you know at last you are bereaved
Why get better, what is there left now? The Holy One has vanished,gone somehow Should there not be sentries of the heart To pull one back before it is too late
Maybe cruelty’s kinder to those left To punish us when we feel we’re bereft Is there noone else when God has gone Taking in his arms your most loved one?
The form may be grammatical and right Yet what it says is nonsense in daylight
You were the centre of my universe [What is a universe,by the way?] You were the light in my life [What about the sun? You were perfect in every way { Name a few definite ones] So why did you choose me? [Why, what’s wrong with you?] Now, you have thrown me away Seems as if I am trash But some folk save the wrong things Or put them in the wrong wash [That might be a metaphor] My washing machine only works on the rapidest wash [Good grief, that sounds positive] Since it’s only 14 minutes,I do it twice [Why would people want to know this?] Sometimes I just do rinse and spin ‘But I didn’t realise that was an option at first [Who cares?] I am trying to save money so in future I shall just do one { why wash them at all, just steam them!] I love elecricity { Is that a metaphor?] I love gas [Maybe it’s not] I’ll cook my angel a roast { Do angels eat?] A roasted prayer of thanksgiving {Sounds more like a threat than a promise] God will smell the odour [Not if he doesn’t want to] God will be happy [Are you crackers?] God is neither happy nor unhappy [Make your mind up.This is not logic class BTW} God looks divine [How can we compare the two?] I have seen him [Are you high?] I don’t know what will happen next but I accept it all [Very gracious!] I wish Father Xmas would come tonight { Don’t we all?] And to use a cliche,I love the entire universe.What ever that is! Is that a bad poem? Do cows eat grass Do sheep have woollen rugs glued to their heads? I am finished [At last!] But it’s not bad enough {Stop moaning]
About the golden light what can I say Love is near and we don’t need to pray Enter into darkness without fear Another hand will guide help us steer
I had lost my faith I was bereft I could not speak, and sinking was my craft Then a the soft bright cloud embraced me whole. I felt a presence and I saw the light
Why should I be helped when many die? The mystery ,of God the soul destroyed
We expect to have to defend a poet against the charge of obscurity; we have to defend Kipling against the charge of excessive lucidity. We expect a poet to be reproached for lack of respect for the intelligence of the common man, or even for deliberately flouting the intelligence of the common man: we have to defend Kipling against the charge of being a ‘journalist’ appealing only to the commonest collective emotions. We expect a poet to be ridiculed because his verse does not appear to scan: we must defend Kipling against the charge of writing jingles.
How my heart sings 