Tag: poem

Love knows what to do

Some folk are made of rubber

Some folk are made of glass

And when the stormy winds blow

Rubber lets them pass.

Bela Bartok using a gramaphone to record folk ...
Bela Bartok using a gramaphone to record folk songs sung by Czech peasants. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

i

Some folk have eyes like water

Some folk have eyes like ice.

And when we’re introduced

We do not look there twice.

Some folk have learned to use us

Some folk give us respect.

With those who will not

Old Town School of Folk Music
Old Town School of Folk Music (Photo credit: life is good (pete))

see us

We cannot  connect.

Some folk where born  to sunshine

Some folk were born to storm

And fears imagined in the mind

Can cause such dreadful harm

Oh,hold me to your bosom

Oh.hold me close to you

Some folk were made to hate and fear

But love knows what to do

Related articles

If this be love then

If this be love,then let me have your hate.

If speak you  true then I prefer your lies.

For this, my heart, your message comes too late.

As  now my need is  for the  thoughtful  wise.

If this be marriage,let me have divorce.

If this be holy,  hasten I to  hell..

For love comes in its time without such force.

And of its message ẃho am I to tell?

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.

If this be love, I ‘ll be forever chaste.

Your  love flew like a brick.that broke my bones

The love that lays your world and mine to waste

.

Love can shake us to our inner core.

Hence of your love I wish to hear no more

I love my own image

KODAK Digital Still Camera

KODAK Digital Still Camera

I love to look into a mirror

My face glows with  bright yellow skincream

I love my own image

Even  time ravaged

I wonder when I’ll be made Queen.

I  bought some shapeware for fat women

As my  round  bits are  all falling down

Now my bum  protrubes off the cuff;

And  my  breasts  look like a stiff ruff

I bought chafeless  cycling shorts last week

And went for a ride in the woods.

The gynaecologist saw  my shorts

She  made sardonic remarks.

So my cheeks are all  reddened with blood.

She told  me that I’ve got anaemia

Yet my irony  level is high.

There are 400  different types

Pernicious sounds just  right.

I must go and tell my old Guy

My dead husband does not know nothing

He’s in the front room in a bag.

i had him cremated

Rght after we mated.

So now I’m a lonely old hag.

i could have got married to a doctor

And lived in a big detached house

Yet though he loved me so much

I left him in the lurch.

I now live with the church mouse.

P1000261

y

The music of you

The music

of

your voice

I shall never hear.

I shall never

play a duo with you.

Would we harmonize?

Or find some compromise?

Does one need to hear

the sound of someone's heart,

transposed into verbal music..

Or can we manage without it?

Ideolect

Sociolect.

Circumspect?

Words reveal the lost soul.

But not the whole story.

Play it again

But this time

Speak it.

I want to hear the music

Of you.

A map’s a guide to find a world

A map's a guide to find the world

Knitted by angels,plain or pearled.

Yet though you need a map as guide,

Keep your own eyes open wide.


I spent a year caught in a map

Until I found a big enough gap

I crawled out through this exit slit,

So here I am,like some half wit.


Words can act like heroin,

You live so high,where I have been.

But onto earth I gladly fall.

The air, the sun, the rain, is all.


My senses are my lovers long-

My ears,my eyes,my skin my tongue.

The winds caress my naked flesh,

To dwell on earth is all I wish.


I'll live with mice and birds and plants,

I'll share my food with miscreants

I'll keep my words inside a tin,

And only,now and then,go in.


I'll live with cats and spiders three.

And like a wild flower grow quite free.

I' ll give my words to those who hear,

And eventually I'll disappear


Earth to earth then ash to ash

When soaked with rain I shall disperse.

My atoms wing like butterflies,

And to the Flower I'll fly,disguised

Missing

I ‘m missing him like we miss  that lost tooth till the gum heals.
I ‘ve been in the dentist’s chair
Had the anaesthetic but  still  felt the tug  and force.
And the dentist yelled,look at this,
I got it all out in one
You see,the root was very twisted and tangled
I told him,take it away.
I’m missing my other because his absence makes a hole
like that bloody hollow in your jaw but in the soul.
Came home alone from the clinic
Felt that  soul hole.The first time
when he wasn’t here.
God doesn’t do anaesthesia, just burns the bush
I’m missing him because he needed me so much
Now nobody needs me nor notices if I am here except Alfred
Or if I fall over in the garden,will I die and rot down to the earth before
my neighbour recalls he’s not seen me for three weeks.Or maybe five.
I miss J the way you’d miss your flesh
if someone shot you with a rifle and made a tunnel through your body;
took out a lump which would hurtle away and fall to earth.
I’m missing his honey smell.
the knowledge,the feeling  he had of me.
The hole in my space is almost tangible
in this room.
I wake up and wonder what he’d like to eat today.
But the dead don’t eat at our tables do they?
I remember I  am alone at the table and I can eat whatever I like.
Oh,love,why did you down so fast?When you were the one,solid I leaned on.You were my man and you are gone

And of reality no-one can tell

Photo0766

Though full of direct knowledge of his fellows
Whose eyes and faces are a script humane;
Though voices sing to him like Lobos' cellos
In lack and loss and woe this man remains..

In times gone by,the voice and face sufficed.
Poets'  music  seemed to us almost  divine;
But now a subtle torture's been devised
To write with pen and letters intertwined.

This man, though wise like cat,or bear or owl,
Has failed in his acquaintance with the pen.
Nor does he have the words which politicians howl.
Nor can he read more than his list of sin.

For now the map is where the mind must dwell
And of reality,no-one can tell.

In this the world of war

I’m afraid  to read what’s happening

My spirit cries and wails

We can’t go on to war,

Might they read the  News in braille?

I am tired of talk of foreigners

Aren’t we  passengers inone boat

So  why  not work with our  love and hope

To keep our sacred world afloat.?

We  shout out prayers and litanies;

We fast and we abstain;

But God is looking down his periscope

And he  says  the Way is plain.

I saw the soldiers  ready with their weapons cocked

For millennia and aeons

For men must prove their potency

Again,again,again.

Now the women have to fight as well

And we wear  big plugs inside  our ears

We restrict our gaze without  the need for scarves

And we deny our fears.

Let them read the News in Babylon

Let them collapse in Jericho

Let the walls be ever built anew

To make old animosities re-grow.

Shout the News in Cyber space

Type it on your blog

What worth is this old human race

In this unholy bog?

I  once held my hands out to you

Across  seas and oceans wide

I sang and told my stories

But your  fighting won’t subside.

My hand is getting weary now

I cannot hold it out much more.

I never felt the warmth of you

Saw an image of closed doors…

So,go  shout it in Jerusalem

We  have so many  Wailing Walls

Go shout it out in Syria

Where was man before the Fall?

The lions lived on weetabix

And the tigers  leaves of grass.

The zebras got  their stripes re-done

But all that men surpass.

When I was a  puking baby

They atom  bombed Japan

Already, Europe’s Jews were gone.

Who was it walked  the Walk of Man?

Willingness to live our given lives

I wrote this poem a few months ago but although it has attracted many readers I’ve never been quite contented with it so I have tried to change the parts that seemed not quite right to me.

Photo0121_001

The pathways to the heart are learned by love

And those who  find this knowledge never lose.

Though virtue and her graces help us from above

All  we  see are hills and rocky views.

With willingness to cross the  seas of mud,

To drag ourselves  through  tangled briar-filled woods.

Our soul  shows us the  truth and  what is good,

For trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.

With flowers kissing feet and gnarled toes

Encouragement is  finally received

And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,

We know  our gladdened  hearts were not deceived.

For Virgil, fortune favours those with steadfast feet.

The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

Note:The saying “Fortune favours the brave” is attributed to several people..Virgil,Pascal,Montaigne are ones I have found

Love must be so pliant

Love must be so pliant ,
like a blade of grass,

Bowing to the wind,
till the storm has passed.

Love is enigmatic
Like the sphinx’s smile.

Waiting for an answer,
Nothing is on file.

Love is often near us
Yet we do not see.

Sometimes where we are
Is just the place to be

Be an Other lover,today

  • It seems we all have a touch of narcissism
  • As well as paranoia
  • And grief.
Sometimes it’s hard to realise
that other people are our equals
in this existence game;
that they each have a mind and world of their own.
But now I think of this,
Isn’t it wonderful that there are all these worlds
And that I’m not the centre of the universe.
And if God cares for a sparrow
I like Him.
Though what He is
Is not expressible in our language.
How dull life would be
If I were the only real person in it
And if I wanted every one to admire me
And think well of me.
And how sweet it is to love an other,
Eye to eye,
Skin to warm skin.
and how the sun was so red at daybreak
and the bare twigs gleamed in its light.
and how precisely you are different from me
Yet I can understand you, at least in part.
We are all absolutely important
And yet paradoxically unimportant.
And how sweet it can be to lose oneself
to become entranced by creation,
Or by a loved one;
By being with children.
Worlds and worlds unfold.
All we need is respect.
Be an other lover,today
.

At any time

I planned my life in seven parts

the first is when the story starts

i thought I could use  my will power

and plan my whole life to the hour/

but one thing I was blind about

Until the lights were going out

The end may come at any time

in the middle of a rhyme

i might just  begin one line

with a perception very  fine…………….

but life is fickle and unfair….

where?

the end may come at any time

Why do poppies cover the battlefields so politely

P1000207 3

We have to be breathing right to hear
the silence from which all song arises;
we have to be breathing slow
and gently
We have to be breathing right to feel it,
the tenderness in which we are held by nature.
We have to be breathing quiet
and soft
and to be looking receptively,

No desire for  objects

We have to be breathing right to recall it
the music we heard when there was silence.
We have to be being breathed
by the world
We have to be part of the whole..

and so,we forget  it as we are pounded

with  the noise of radios and traffic
and people talking loudly on cell phones
walking by the green fields and river
past the secret heron
and the coots nest
past the daisies

When I am dying I shall think,
Why was I not breathing right?
Why was I scarcely breathing?
Why did I forget those moments?
Why did I not live more deeply?
Why did i not sing more sweetly?
Why did I nor love more dearly?
Why did i not listen more carefully?

Why did I not sing more sweetly?
why did I not see more completely?

Why don’t we talk more gently?
Why don’t we look more intently?

Why were the poppies growing so wildly?
Why were the battlefields growing nightly?
Why did we murder  men so lightly?
Why did we not love more rightly?
Why are the poppies  covering the soil  so  politely?
When did the young  soldiers   leave so frightfully?

Why are we not here  more quietly?

Taking down the cards

unnamed

Tonight I decided to take down the cards

with their condolences

good wishes

and assurances that I am a strong woman

And mixed with them was just one

of your birthday card.s

Well.I shan’t be seeing any more of those

I’m not planning to have another partner,mate or spouse.

But if one turned up

out of the blue

I’d have to see how I felt about him or her or them

Maybe a goldfish is less trouble

As they never say things like

I never want to speak to you again.

I never wish to see your  handwriting again.

Why  are there no socks in my drawer?

But neither do they hug or kiss.

Cold.

Seen with love

 P1000253

They lay down in awe and fear,

Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each other’s eyes
And so did rhapsodise.

They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul and heart so true.
They gazed until,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,
In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall.

Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands;
And while they touched and gazed so long,
The birds sang out in glorious songs.

The eyes are mirrors to the soul,
and love will make us grow more whole.
Gaze lovingly on humankind..
And hold care in your mind

And if you want to make sweet love ,don’t go where we have gone

Down by the House of Commons
My love and I did roam
We were looking for a Monet
To decorate our home

Down by the Palace Gardens
We went a-walking next
As we believed that in that green
It was good to have sex.

We were caught by the police!
My wife was quite displeased.
“Oh,can we plead not guilty ,sir.
We don’t know where we are!”

Down in the court of magistrates
We were accused of sin.
We stood there in the dock
And hoped that we would win

I thought sin was not a crime!
We crossed that narrow line
But in this country there’s a link
Sin and crime are synched!

We asked to go to Westminster
To confess to a Catholic priest.
We could just take a penance

From him or the police

But the judge was feeling lazy
He sentenced us to death.
And we are going to die because
We wandered from the path.

If you want to get a Monet,
Buy a print from Amazon.
And if you want to make sweet love
Don’t go where we have gone.

For safety lies at home

On a mattress of pure foam

Sheets of cotton newly washed

Like wheat we are all thrashed

Po

Death and loss and grief

When death and loss and grief fill up my heart
And behind an icy wall I am entrapped
Where should my work of holy healing start
Where is the hidden place where loss is mapped?
As on the earth I walk amongst the trees
And on the grass I lay my sleeping head
I make my friends from stinging wasps and bees
Who comfort me on this my own deathbed.
Yet do not sun and moon still shine as bright?
Do not men and women tender lie.
Does not this small glowworm give me light?
Do not courting tom cats saunter by?
With wider vision spreading from my eyes
I see more clearly where my comfort lies

It’s called love

I run my fingers tentatively

down your cheek,

asking you a question

with my eyes.

looking at each other,

you touch me too.

This is my skin

my boundary.

Yours is thicker,

like rubber.

I run my fingers down your chin.

what is this little bone?

I like it.

I like your skin

I like your bones.

I like you.

you please me.

you are tasty.

I like your taste,

your skin,your eyelids.

I like your eye here,

and your other eye too.

Nice one!

I like this hair on your head.

May I touch your hair?

do you like hair?

hair makes me laugh.

I have a fondness for laughing.

I love to laugh.

I enjoy laughter

I love your laughter.

If not, smiling is good also.

Or a gleam in the eyes,

showing the inside smile,

the smiling heart.

I like your inside,

Outside

and possibly

your backside.

your upside and downside.

your side sides.

I snuggle you all around with soft wool.

I knit you into my scarf.

I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!

How unusual

How flexible.

How charming.

How alarming

How creative

How interesting.

What an idea!

what a notion

but you are too big for me to knit

So I’ll just touch your hand

with my fingers.

and you touch my hand

with your fingers.

What good hands we have

with such fingers.

fingers are for touch.

fingers are keen to touch.

I like touch.

what would we do

without fingers?

I like your skin.

skin is good

We love skin

We love.

We.

I want skin to be ours

and yours

is mine

and mine

is yours

where is the edge of the world?

skin has no end

it’s infinity

au naturel.

what order!

what design!

What wonder.

what awe.

where is the world’s skin?

tenderly we touch the world

as the world embraces us.

It’s called love.

Love

A sound poem

6339939_f520

Ersatz raps

This is meant to be read aloud… it’s a sound poem.I made up some words too..

Source: K

Oh,I see the wolf listening..he’s so gentle or is he decentral?
Oh,Ah,kerbumplof.
Shrieks,calling for mate
Bang my soul up
In your bedroom
Ker pluf
Thor.War
Storms of lightning
Hail you
AAAAAAhhhhhhhhh
Me,oh,me oh,me stuck here in my groove
Give me electric shocks;the silent treatment.Sulk for me, please,Argentina.
Screech,scream,I felt you watching.
Touch me with a feather
Dust me!
Glug!
I see the wasps round your coat
They hug you and nip your neck
Bong!
Don’t come near me again
wolves are not
Well come!
I sigh for mein mutter
she’s a nutter,
utter
Sob
Scream
nightmare
Thud!
You hate me!
Never call again when you’re already here
You are not welcome.
I close my door
on your foot boot
Oh,yes.
Thunder and lightening
Go home now
This is a poem as likely
ill conceived
Eagle flies while I am
Falling down a mountain…
Scree burning.
I never want to see you again,babe.My duck.
Please be a love and leave me.Cheers
That’s ok.I understand you.
Asp,gasp
Per bot fly!
No thud
No dach
sunds whimper.
It’s time for my tea and biscuit
I cooked it twice
but you were
ab ab a aaab aa absent aahaa
sent!
No.No.no
I can’t believe you!
Cut this string and let it all hang out again
Oh,bloggers.Go to bed
Now
How
Mein eschreitschzung.Flightschzung.Nachtschzung
blung.blung
blot me out
I’m an ink stain.
I like your fingers, so clean and curving
I’ll mark you and give you homework
Och,aye
It’s well come
Crooning mouse traps
See Rockefeller
drop out and
Bring a bag of sylvia plath’s
scrap paper.
did she know?
Did she know?
Did she sweat
Bang?
Thud.My sky fell in onto the millpond
Don’t smoke near me
I’ll get burned
For I hate you
Or just want your hat and an E for
flatness
Droom,droom
Dee
Bag
bug
Ted went to bed
where he spent his honeymoon
with another woman
Not with the second one
Mathilda
It’s finished us all off
Brang.Blong
Eschreitchzung
Fleightschztung
Herr Meightschrung

Cherries

  • If we see ripe cherries
    Hanging from a branch
    We’ll pick the fruit and eat them
    It is our last chance

    When our end is nearing
    We must live far more
    Like the dust motes dancing
    In the sun,in joy.

    See the clouds all blowing…
    Where is it they go?
    Like the leaves and flowers
    Like the rivers flow.

    See the face beloved
    Known,not understood.
    See the human mystery
    Feel how love can flood.

    See the smoke blow upwards
    See the children gaze
    Innocence and beauty
    New born every day.

    The first time our eyes were open
    We saw a human face.
    The last time we close them
    Let us then embrace.

    Though the day is ending
    Do not cut it short.
    Live each moment till the last
    In love as we were taught

With its open maw

I put the broken pieces of my heart
Into a dish of gold and diamonds hard
But metal is no match for flesh
And hearts don’t need a fancy dish
So now I hold them gently, though I smart.

The pain’s familiar yet it seems more raw.
Like tigers scratching me with sharpest claws.
Oh.god give me some grace today
For as it is I cannot pray.
And death hangs over with its open maw

With this spirit

As on this foreign shore I stand and stare

Across the green and foaming tidal sea.

I do not wonder whether life is fair

Nor whether what’s to come is what should be.

The hinterland is not a wishful dream

Whatever I meet there is all itself.

So useless are past thoughts and present schemes

My courage,heart and spirit are my wealth.

Although alone,I sense some being close

Whom I accept as guide and friend to me.

To walk with otherness is not my boast.

It’s he who guides and shows me  how to see.

Thus with this spirit,I my spirit wed

As close to me  as in a marriage bed.

Are we afraid of the silence?

Photo1174

http://youtu.be/eMWeQWGla0Y

Waiting is an opportunity
To become aware of the silent joy
Of the earth and the music of nature
Wind swaying tall trees over the red shrubs
and the deepness of the silence under that.
This is where everything that grows is born
Why drown in a noise called ” pop music”
Are we afraid of the silence?
Is the awareness there
a reminder of out confrontation with life.
See the leaves laughter as they reach out to us.
Hear how the birdsong blends with the silence
Remmember the hot dry common and the lark singing.
The natural world is still here if we remember to feel and hear,

The still point

P1000194 1

Deep in strain,thoughts all a-riot,
I seem unable to be quiet.
I feel tense,I can’t sit down..
My eyes glare out and how I frown!

I talk too fast,I lack patience
I lose touch with my common sense.
To take lessons from a guide
Seems harder when my mind’s so tired.

I discovered, though, that deep inside.
Peace and stillness still abide.
To find that place we each  must be
Desireless, till at last we see.

Deep ,deep down there is true rest
And kindly our sore souls are blessed.
All we have to do is wait
To get in touch with this sweet state.

We share affinity with trees,
With flowers,cats, bats and bumble bees.
Let all thought and control go.
Let this, our mind, become more slow,

Perception’s better when we’re still
Emptied of desire and will;
Deep inside a melody
stirs our hearts and sets them free.

When he went away,Lehitraot

When he went away
He said,”Lehitraot,mama.”
Do vstrechi.
He died, but I’m still here
Yes,in my heart I feel his love.
But why did I live,
And he did not?
Auf wiedersehen
Lehitraot.
Yes,darling,I’ll see you later,
When the sky turns black and all the stars blaze bright
I’ll see you shining in the night.
I’ll see you in my dreams alas.
Do vstrechi.
But why you and not me too?
Araka
I can’t understand.
Lehitraot,beloved.
A plus tard
Some where in this world,you fell
But no-one,not even God, can tell.
God was absent then or in some other place
He’s gone again.
They said He’s died too,
But He didn’t have a mother like you.
Do vstrechi.
My breasts ache and my heart and soul,
My breasts were made to make you whole.
To feed, give love and to console.
A plus tard
And now they ache with grief as my tears fall.
A bientot
My body trembles in the night
As dreams may bring my lost ones to my sight.
A plus
I’d walk across the roughest bleak terrain
If l I could find my loves and hold your hands again.
Do vstrechi.
The bell rings on the ancient clock
As time goes on as normal,  never stops.
Araka
I wish the hands of time could be reversed,
And I was not living with this curse.
People forget that I once had a son.
They think my grieving has been done.
Araka.
But grief and loss and pain will never end
Until the curtain of my death descends
Auf wiedersehen.
Meantime I look at flowers and birds and trees,
But it’s really you my deepening insight sees.
Lehitraot.
Th inscape of my heart is shown to few,
An artist of the lost would know this view.
I know I want to see just you.
Do vstrechi.
But for me there is no
Auf wiedersehen
Never again will you say
What you said that day
Lehitraot,
Mama.
Papa
A plus tard
Tot ziens.
See you later
See you soon.
See you.
You
 my beloved son

Losing my dad

I look up our small street,
To see if you are coming.
I don’t know what time it is,
But I think I hear you humming.

You sang sweet songs for us,
And you could whistle well .
You wore an old tweed jacket
You loved us,I could tell.

I look out there each day,
But I can’t see your tall, thin shape.
I saved your Woodbine packet,
It made me feel some hope.

What does death’s door mean?
Where has Daddy gone?
When will be the welcome day,
When we hear his songs again?

I’ll hum like him all day,
I’ll dream of him all night.
I hope he won’t be angry,
If his cigarettes won’t light!

He can’t write his own songs now.
He went too far away,too soon.
I’ll write down what I think he sang,
And I’ll invent the tune.

I hear him singing now,
He dwells inside my heart.
And though I still can’t see his face,
I recognise his Art.

I live so well because you so love me.

In the striking hotness of midday
The bench beside the roses seemed just right.
We sat and talked about the flowers with colour fair,
and whether Love is visible to sight,

The flowers swayed gently, beautiful and rare,
At last the times of joyous summer come.
I welcomed them with soft and gentle stare.
Ah,all too soon dear summer will be gone.

The sun was at the apex of the sky.
We caught the moment like a netted fish.
And as we looked the broad white clouds blew by.
While we enjoyed fulfilment of our wish,

I live so well because you so love me.
And even after death this truth shall be.


	


	



			
				


			

			
My sister
		
	
	

		
Trying to keep a hold of you;

trying to keep a hold of you.

Don’t go,

Don’t go.

I’ll not let you fall down that gap.

I’ll always try to pull you back-

Little sister.


You slipped so far away from us.

You slipped because you knew you could.

You saw a gap and fell right down.

You were serious,my little clown.

Come back now.

Come back now.

My baby.


I sang all those songs for you,

But I needed our mother too.

A mother too.

If only I’d been stronger…

Stronger,stronger..

Would you have stayed here longer?

Longer,longer.

Little sister.


As you rocked in your little chair,

the demons of the past were there.

Your blue eyes shone,

Then you were gone.

My sister.


I saw you in a long blue gown,

With a golden halo all wrapped round.

You smiled and said you didn’t know

That I had really loved you so.

You were sorry you had to leave like that,

And would I kindly feed your cat.

My sister.


When I woke up,the dream was gone;

But life and work must still go on.

If only I’d been grown and strong,

On this earth you’d still belong.

Little sister.


I sang the song that you once sang,

But felt my tears made it go wrong.

Once you smiled and laughed with me.

Life was not all black,I see.


Sisters,sisters three.

Now it’s two,just you and me.

But when we meet,a shadow’s there-

I see a flash of her dark hair,

Our sister,sister,sister.

A gap remains for grief to fill

and on we mourn till hearts are still.

One day we’ll die too

And perhaps then we’ll be with you.

Little sister.

My sister.

	


	



			
				


			

			
For the magnetic attraction of rain.
		
	
	

		
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I dreamed I rowed in a large pea green boat

Accompanied by seventeen cats.

And across the Great Lake,without a mistake

I saw mountains of gentleman’s hats.

I was making no waves in my effort to move,

The cats were discoursing on geometry.

I looked in the mirror fixed onto my boat,

The moon spoke  entrancing Theology.

“I wonder who’ll help me”I thought to myself,

When I saw an entire spectrum of men–

Dirac, Archimedes,Niels Bohr, with their theories.

I got my great inspiration just then.

I need seventeen physicists,that’s one for each cat,

All tied to my boat with a chain.

The force they exert will just compensate

For the magnetic attraction of rain.

Paul Dirac came up, and I looked into his eyes,

They were full of anxiety and pain.

“I am sorry I am unable do what you wish,

But my father never taught me to swim.”

“That is perfectly alright”,I politely replied,

“You can walk on the water instead”

So that’s how my boat and its cargo of cats

Were accompanied back to my bed.

When I awoke the next day,I was filled with dismay.

I saw that Paul Dirac was gone,

With the cats and the boat,of which I just wrote

And I was now completely alone.

I took a quick look,in my old physics book

And there was a photo of Dirac

I stared at his eyes,and I am not telling lies,

He threw me a very strange look.

I caught this strange look,it’s here in my book.

I am saving it for a special event.

When I gather more Data on Relative Quanta,

I’ll understand just what Dirac meant.

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