cor stone the crows!
as we used to say in the days
when we could distinguish a crow from a lyre-bird…
blimey, knock me dahn wiv a fev-ver!
now if they called it
The National Bribery Competition
it might liven things up
and reconnect politicians with
truth
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I’d love to be inside the head
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Those birds outside your window at dawn
did you know they migrate from Islamin the fighting season?They’re all Sufis: they sleep all nightwith the Beloved; and in the morningthey exchange the jokes they heard,the pillow talk from the night before sleep;then the blackbird and the thrushweave these into stories which they singall day; then at night the nightingalemakes them all into one…
You all know it from the classroom.
Many say it’s his best; ‘a young man’s poem’full of life and love and promise;and short too. His long poems,they’re great but few have the patience nowand who cares about Poet Laureateswhen they’re out of fashion?It never appeared, did you know,in his lifetime. Sat in his desk drawer,a single poem in a fine Italian leather…
sholam alechem all you mothers
if you could only see him tonite –like an animalan ugly, vibrating, menstrating dirty little animalfor that is all he is anyway!he isn’t as hip and cool as you think he isor as he is supposed to be‘hee hee hee’‘look at me, ma, I’m stoned’get the hell out of my lifebefore I tell your mother…
What I say and what I write
as foolishness and folly; forI talk of boundless things, and of infinity;which by their nature, are beyondthe human mind, the human pen;should I then not and never speak of such?Or are these boundless thingsjust what mankind should talk about –seeking the laws of atoms, or of space, onlyto find the boundlessness yet further offthan men…
Who am I?
Why am I here?What should I do?Who will tell me who I am?Who will tell me, who put me here?Who will tell me, why I’m here,and tell me then, what I should do? ..Sometimes, I am all thankfulnessfor what keeps all of me alive;is there a greater one whom I may thank?And sometimes, I’m alive…