Tag: poem

A favorite poem:As Kingfishers catch fire by G.M.Hopkins

By  Gerard Manley Hopkins

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.
I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

Source: Gerard Manley Hopkins: Poems and Prose (Penguin Classics, 1985)

I want to go to bed

I want to go to bed

but someone’s standing on my head!

I don’t know what matters most

the butter or the toast.

I have looked into  your mirror

Was it cracked across in error?

I want to go to sleep

I have counted all those sheep.

My dreams are very bland.

Swiftly flows the sand.

I wake at 6 am,

My soul cries out just then.

I like to drink espresso

and  recall sweet summer colors.

I want to go to bed

But my palms have both been read

Sleep knits us together

So we won’t get married ever

My heart is made of leather

to protects me in bad weather

I think he’s gone crazy

I love you and you love me!
Believer!
Where on earth should I be?
Whenever.
I blocked cookies all my life
If you want one,ask the wife.
I eat spam, and google then,
I begin all over again.
whatever.
I ban websites for a living
But my wife is very forgiving,
Men ever!
I eat splogs and gurgle blogs
Then I cut up all the logs.
Whenever.
I’ve been married fourteen times,
They divorce me for my rhymes,
Whatever.
I eat cookies if I can,
If I can’t I get them banned,
Forever!
I’m the God of Monster Space,
I’ll destroy this human race,
Moreover.
If you meet me you won’t know
‘Cos I look like old so and so,
Whoever.
But I am mad and I’ll get you
I eat up this human zoo;
Together.
Whenever.
Can’t forgive,erhhhh.

No comments please,we’re British.

The bird has flown

If I go I won’t tell you.
I’ll just disappear one day.
Like when a cigarette ,which seemed so long,
suddenly has become smaller
and you never noticed it
because you were talking
about the meaning of life
while life was somewhere else
blown away with your smoke
into the sky
and then dispersed
never quite visible again
but still floating on the breeze
hoping to be caught
in a butterfly net
but unable to communicate
except by flying.
If I go it will not be today
but it will be an ordinary day
no one will realise
that it’s that day
that the bird flies
from her nest
to go to a new place
only seeing the deserted nest
he realises,
my bird has flown

Beloved world

Let your lips meet gently
the top one resting against the lower
touching with tenderness
your own  skin to skin.
Forefinger  propped on chin,
I let the others dangle,
like leaves on a branch;
how softly gravity  tugs them downwards.
Let heart beat quietly,slowly
as  the blood circulates carrying  its music ,
a river,following the path of least resistance.
How the blood vessels receive willingly this flow,
touching it kindly as with tiny  open fingers,
helping and being helped.
How the hair on the head floats
on the breeze,like tentacles of an octopus
waving goodbye.
Top  eyelid loves the lower one;
as we blink they touch
like lovers kissing swiftly
behind a tree.
and how the light comes in
we see a world.
Mine may not be yours,
but the blink of my eyelid
sends waves through the air,
so we’re all touching and being touched,
lips kissing each other,
kiss all living creatures.
skin to skin
air to air.
And inside us,the rich darkness
of creative night
transforms  in turn
these touches
into dreams.

Why I gave up reading

I used to enjoy library books
I read both day and night.
Then when I looked around me

I saw a horrid sight.

The house was filled with dust and dirt.
The sink was full of pots.
My hair was dirty and my face
Had broken out in spots.

So now I feel the need to clean
And polish all the brass.
I wash my hair  ‘most every night.
Oh,what a clever lass.

My husband likes my new approach
As he had felt ignored.
He toiled all day long  cooking books
and wished to be restored.

I wash him with my  best rose soap.
I dry him with my towel.
And then we have a discussion
On, whether Y’s a vowel.

We go to bed and kiss and hug.
We recall  bad times we  late endured.
And then we dream of pie and mash

Until our ills are cured.