Unnumbered boys regarding me
But glad said they that I had come
Their swaying souls were safe said they
For Christ had steered them home.
For I am sailing these fierce Arctic seas
Berth place for three thousand men
I shout to wake them, if they please
To come back home with me again.
Imagine I could make them wake
To make them come with me
Undrench their eyes for Heaven’s sake
And heed them lively to my plea.
Imagine I could make them dream
Of life beyond this sickened sea
Where salty bones on the northern beam
Could remake themselves and follow me.
But standing taut near the heaving prow
My frozen face tormenting me
A voice, chastising, would not allow
My thoughts on their immortality.
‘Go now and leave these three thousand boys
Leave these slumbering boys with Me
For they shall sleep the sleep of joys
All loved, all safe in My eternity.’
It’s not the deaths of old men
That cuts me to the quick
It’s not the surge of the blooded sea
That grieves me, makes me sick
But faces of the very young
That surface and then sink down
And sink down deep where I cannot see
Where I cannot see them drown.
THINKING YOU’RE NEAR
In the lap of the waves
I hear your voice
On the incoming breeze
I feel your fear
In the holidaying children
I weep for your loss
With the passage of years
Betrayal has snared us
Yet set fair in my heart
Unforgotten.
ON THE BEACH I HEAR YOU CALLING
While on this beach the children play
Let us honour the day
While fond life has moved on
Here met Death many a son
My sad voice calls loudly
Remembering proudly
Come wind, come tide
Let my frail voice bestride
On the beach I hear you calling
From that honoured time appalling.
D – D A Y TUESDAY, 6TH JUNE 1944
THE FALLEN BOYS HAVE GONE ASTRAY
This pulsing boy
A corpse
Within a splintered second
His tensioned grip
His sweating tremble
His prayerful pleas
All gone.
All gone
This shattered self
Now just
A floating hindrance
For other souls of
Other desperate boys
Not yet corpses
To thrust past
Against, aghast.
For they,
Corpses yet to be,
Wade against
Incoming Death
Saturating them
With salty demons
Caught unaware
In this speck of Time.
Dear Jesus,
Mother,
Salvage me
From Satan’s touch
From the froth
Of terrored death
Of chattering end
As more corpses
And the nearly corpses
Horizontally
Sway past
Or thud together.
Each corpse unique
Where those still
Complete with heads
And faces
May hold
Expression
Yet splintered
Shocked
Fiercely disapproving
Such change of state.
Here it ends,
Swilling and swaying
Along the gritty shore
Buckles and kit
Catching other
Broken dreams
Amid the filth
Of other previous lives
Stacked along the shallows
Of beach and history.
Poor boys, poor souls
Known now only
by discs of identity,
If still attached,
Yet useful in collection
Of these thousands
Identifying
The unwilling departed.
May Our Risen Lord,
Weeping,
Note these corded discs
As the souls troop in
Ununiformed for sure
United on some beach
We know not of
In hope and trust on
This remembered day.
After being left to my own devices
Making marmalade with gorgeous spices
I’m pulling on my silver trews
And lacing up my pointy shoes
Then off to a castle in my flying car
And find the bright, spotty door ajar
Leaping slippery steps up slanty decks
Past anchors hauled from ancient wrecks
And meet again in his purpley hat
This Prince of cats, our Brandy cat.
XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX
Decoding me with his wide, catty eyes
And smiling whiskers so full of surprise
He rose from his throne with cat-like ease
I saw he was happy and wanted to please
Clapping paws aglitter with diamond rings
He whispered his stories of many fine things
That landed him here in his spectacular home
King of his castle needing never to roam
Silk sofas, brocades, gold goblets and more
Great paintings and silver from ceiling to floor
Carpets from Persia and much Chippendale
Grace parlours and bedrooms in endless trail.
XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX
Now fading this dream meeting Brandy Cat
Home through memory to our lonely mat.
Remembering Whisky, Brandy’s brother, who disappeared when they were one-year-old. Our beautiful cats.
Heavens above!
We come upon you
So utterly
Destroyed.
Truly splintered
Ribs and arms
Splayed akimbo
By outrageous power.
What thought you,
Whispering tree,
So torn apart
And hideous?
We gently touch
Your pines
Your cones
Now sleeping.
And what has been
Is now not so,
No longer
Swaying, sighing.
Why solely you
Amid such sturdy friends
Sentinel
On Watling Street?
Quite fractured,
Without response
As we console
Your broken self.
I picture you
And call you ‘friend’.
Who
Out there
Shares
This time
With me?
4:10am
In the black
Suspension
Where counts
My heart.
Peopled by
Surging shards
Of troubling voices,
Agitating this
Indignant me.
She, sleeping
As I, driven
And pestered by an
Inconvenience
Of frowning memory.
Pinched by failure
By duties missed,
My mouth protesting
Wordlessly.
Why, silly me.
Am I waltzing alone,
Tumbling, trapezing
Along Space and Time?
Lord, grant me
Resolution by 5:10am!
UN SONNET POUR L’AMOUR
Je te conjure, mon mari,
D’être gentil avec moi
Et je te conjure, ma femme,
D’être affectueuse avec moi
Traverse la vie avec moi et ne me quitte jamais
Garde-moi, ton amour, auprès de toi
Je serai avec toi pour toujours
Nous avons traversé des plages plein d’un amour sincère
Avec notre esprit, notre âme, notre corps
Nous faisons face au monde ensemble
Et de notre être amoureux
Puisse naître
Cette journée qui nous appartient, de laquelle tout provient
Nos souvenirs commencent à partir d’aujourd’hui.
TRANSLATION : HARRISON CARTWRIGHT
[ Thank you, Harrison, for your fine translation.]
This ‘ere tree
Fascinates me.
In shape divine
By the railway line.
Balance complete
At thirty feet.
Something true
Just like you.
Nature’s designer
Brings little finer.
This neat symmetry
Sets a mind free.
Sense you we,
Entrancing tree?
Heavy the dread darkness
Expectant the land
Descending and drenching
Enthrallingly grand.
Trees uprightly pointing
Like hairs on a head
Quivering, defiant
While we humans fled.
A furious sight now
Of breathtaking act
Clashing forces collide
Inhuman, in fact.
How savage the onslaught, we didn’t see
My thoughts for my girl and hers for me.
I stand before you
In black and red
For those alive
For those still dead.
I stand before you
In red and black
Our justice dodged
It’s what we lack.
I stand before you
Brethren mine
We shall survive
We have our shrine.
The law’s delay
The insolence of office.
======xxxxx======
[ Nothing changes. The final two
lines of the sonnet come from
Shakespeare’s Hamlet, written
425 years ago. ]
Where is Justice?
Where is she?
Under the Political
Christmas Tree!
Tousle me, tousle me
Tousle me, Beauty
I’ll laugh for a lifetime
Come, tousle my hair.
Come dance with me, Beauty
Prance with me, Beauty
Sing what you dare
For my joy’s in the air.
Fling with me finely
Swirl me divinely
Dance and enhance me
My heart is astir.
I’ll pull at your ribbons
Bright ribbons of silk
Entwine them around me
My lady so fair.
Say to me, say to me
Say that you love me
Come, Angel of beauty
Leap up from your chair.
Sing to me, sing to me
Say that you love me
Select me, accept me
My Beauty, my Fair.
Entice me, propel me
Enmesh me, delight me
Sweetheart, my True Heart
My life loving Dear Heart.
In Springtime and soul time
Your time and my time
Cartwheels and handstands
Let’s tarry us there.
So tousle me, dazzle me
Razzle and frazzle me
Sweet beauty jazz with me
Embrace me, my Fair.
Enlist me, invent me
Prolong me, make strong me
Devise me, allow me
And ever enthral me.
Inform me, reform me
Say you will storm me
Entrancing while dancing
My Lady so fair.
Enraptured and captured
I’ll be your Beauty
Quickly so true to you
Come away to the fair.
As light as a feather
I’ll love and endeavour
Let’s dance in the heather
My true soul, forever.
Advise me, revise me
Reach and high-five me
The flash of your moist eyes
Such a thrill to surprise me.
Don’t lose or refuse me
Be certain to choose me
Be keen to excuse me
As we dance up the stair.
Encode me, reload me
Sweep to my rescue
For I ever shall bless you
And I fancy you’ll care.
Can you spin and revolve me
Resolve and then solve me
Waltzing then twisting
In Life’s jigging affair?
Fingers touching, entwining
Encroaching my longing
And ever belonging
While dreaming, you’ll see.
I’m jiving, reviving and ever contriving
My Love in my hot arms ever aspiring
Engaging each other, deeply as one
We’ll jive away Time before we be gone.
==============xxxxx============
In the dreamtime, in the meantime
The lovers let be
In the Springtime and in our lifetime
This could be you and this could be me.
Penelope and the Suitors
J W Waterhouse
Image: Courtesy of Aberdeen Archives, Gallery and Museums
I’ll come into your garden, Maud
To see what we shall see
I hope you’ll not find me a fraud
When you chivvy me onto your knee.
I imagine this bench is insured
For you’re the pride of Wavertree
But my curious nature is cured
As I bolt to the gate and flee.
By chance a Cunarder is moored
And almost ready for sea
In such a dither thinking of Maud
But it’s the ocean life for me.
Returning later as Captain Claude
To see what I shall see
There’s the gate and there is Maud
And her smile to welcome me.
She told me I was the one she adored
So I on my blended knee
Said I was here to love and applaud
This precious Belle of Wavertree.
With grovelling apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Such tawny plumage has Penelope
Pleasing, intriguing the watchful me
Staccato stalking on yellowed claws
With splendid luck and a safe outdoors
And pray Phantom Fox is late for tea!
In the pitch of the night came Burglar Bill
Slithering over our window sill
But he came a right cropper when he tasted my sword
That pricked him quite proper and made others applaud
Since when he’s been most alarmingly ill
Well, just fancy that
When our next-door cat
With a touch of the haughty
And most likely quite naughty
Drops by for the occasional chat.
Tight knit, these pebbles
Although not knitted at all
If our brains were in place.
Magically magical
But truly, touchingly magical
Though impossible to touch.
As if some god had woven them
Having shouted at stray clouds
To form up and bunch in tight.
Just letting us know
Down here but looking up
That some gods value beauty.
Whether knit one, pearl one
Is this god’s speciality
Is unknown to me.
However tightly knitted they seem
We know each pebble
Has its own resolve in place.
The resolve to be fluidly individual
Unmindful of watchers
Careless of admiration.
And, of a sudden
As I looked
Change and separation all around.
Pebbles unformed themselves
Indifferent to me, or the god
And how we thought of them.
No longer pebbles
Neither galleons nor dragons
Whales, pigs nor eagles.
But spectacle and grandeur
Clouds shaping, reshaping
Each day of our lives.
Well, fancy that!
Oh, gorgeous saucer
Cruising, skirting
Clouded skies.
Assessing, digesting
Thinking, deciding
As time flies.
Camouflaged spaceship
Cunning as cloud
And quietly spies.
Such spirit of travel
Exploring new dawns
Thought multiplies.
In our world unknowing
We battle away
Enmeshed in lies.
Slim saucer surveying
A cloudship sweeping
In trim exercise.
Cloudship as spaceship
Skims on patrol
Perhaps us they despise.
Enchanting she gleams
A sauntering dreamer
Our world she defies.
Deceiving me here
She’s nothing but vapour
As the crow flies.
Gleaming creature depart
Away from our years
Leaving us to our skies.
Dissolving, vanishing
Maybe sensing our sorrows
As Earth cries.
Wordsworth wrote many sonnets, giving me the opportunity to add yet another cartoon from the witty pen of Pete Williams.
I HEAR YOUNG WORDSWORTH FORGOT MOTHER’S DAY AGAIN..
Little Miss Angel
Stepped on a pin
She screamed so loud
One dreadful din.
Hopping on one foot
She screamed again
Flapping her wings
To dampen the pain.
Teacher dashed over
Rescued the pin
Snapped at Angel
For audible sin.
Angel reacted
With shocking force
Reprimanded
By Mother, of course.
Her face was crimson
Off flew her wings
Stamped off the stage
Kicking nearby things.
The Panto ended
In fearful scenes
Angels shouting
While scenery leans.
With tumbling roar
The staging fell
No one was hurt
But it broke the spell.
Then out of the dust
Came a glad shout
This was brilliant
What Panto’s about.
It ended indeed
With much laughter
Everyone said
Couldn’t be dafter.
And so, dear children, when you act on the stage
You may find such fun you’ll recall for an age.
Look!
Our sky has fallen
Crashing down
Wounding loyal souls
Of many nations.
Submerging us
Deep below
Through swirling mists
Of darkened tempers
In uncertain minds.
Yet in resilient hope
Our bounteous Queen
Trails rainbow glory
Across our hearts
And lives true within.
FOR OUR GLORIOUS QUEEN DEPARTED
Now that she’s left us
Bereft
Alone in our millions
Contemplative
And destitute too.
Finest of Monarchs
I’m holding you close
Charged all my life through
In honour bound
This Marine attends you.
Tears fall fast
For her closing of eyes
Our great Queen departed
Yet Death is outsmarted
A pure voice replies.
Mne Johnson King’s Squad, Royal Marines
Slipping through the beating race of Time
We have scurried, dreaming, nine by nine
Witching, singing, making spells by rhyme
We covet that which for now is thine.
Witches! Pray thee, let us sing our song
We thrive on hatreds amid the throng
Our joy is found in fortune truly long
And spell out our truths where we belong.
Arriving, surviving
Fair witches dreaming
Of mating and hating
Scratching, detaching
Spoiling and boiling
Spitting and hitting
Those whom we hate.
Remorseless in poison
Looting, deforming
Beckoning, storming.
Thrusting and pinching
Stabbing and wasting
Jabbing and tasting
Chasing hot blood.
Rub-a-dub-dub
Rub-a-dub-dub
Rub-a-dub
Rub-a-dub
Rub-a-dub-dub.
Well said creatures, well portrayed
They shall suffer and be sore afraid.
While some might scheme their petty hates
We pull, entice and seal their fates.
Blessed ones, we have re-formed here
Scent you some horrors in this air?
Although our notions are not yet clear
We wait until we shall mount the stair.
We, a thousand years and more, have flown
From pale, torn Macbeth long since cheated
Time cracks open and through we slip
Disasters await those defeated.