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Posts Tagged ‘Juvenilia’

Well I know now
Where the frost-web window went
How the bankrupt solstice spent
What the widowed winter leant
And as the Night devours
The seeds of soiled flowers
The sun in cloud-shrouds cowers
So I know how

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19 September 1995 (17:55:55)
Little Sod
————-
Oh, they said that the girl
With the ivory curl
Was as precious as treasure, (in public)
And that hers was the world
But the way it unfurled
Was to cull a bairn hurled
So precocious, in measure, of their trick
Little Sod is dreaming
Little Sod is SCREAMING
Little Sod is scheming
Diff’rent ways to punch YOUR lights out
Little Sod [...]

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Blood-hued sap
In roses rises
Mud-glued trap
The posie prizes

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18 November 1993 (11:09:09)
The Stinging Gift
—————–
(PART II)
———-
With the wind against my wanderings
And the sun a murky messenger
A daybreak scattered logical
Scattalogical illumine
Lost waves of snow enfold the destiny
Where softening shades of graduation
Stalk Heaven’s mystic bridge
Timeless Morning, I embrace you
Cold and clear as remembrance edifice
In state
Gardens where the whispers nicked
Victory ‘cross my soul
That they might surge
Shake the [...]

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On
Butterfly Summer
An angel did fall
Stinging the tulips
And melting the dawns
Erasing from men’s minds
The will to remember
Belauding the darkness
And praising the night
12 September 1993
(On a roll, on the toilet and on a(n honoured) toilet roll ; backwards).

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Every second is
A second
Of value
Every moment
Someone’s dream comes true
Every minute is
A minute
Of fascination
Every moment
Someone’s world seems bright
Every hour is
An hour
Of recollection
Every moment
Someone’s hope shines through
Every lifetime is
A life of time,
Of glory
Every moment
Someone finds the light

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Dieu et mon droit
“We shall hear the words of the archbishop”
For she gives it in the service of God
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN
Who wedded a nation
And now seeks salvation
Anointed with holy oil                                         Appointed unholy toil
Forty years
Faulty sneers
Anointed with holy oil                            [...]

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Tomorrow is Sunday and I propose a toast
To the little bunny who shall be the roast
He sits there in his little hutch
Twitching his nose, doing nothing much
It only takes one quick, sharp blow
To end dear rabbit’s days of woe
To keep a paw’s considered lucky
But take my word it’s bloody mucky !
I’ll skin the little bloke [...]

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Here I am, stuck in goal
Oh what a terrible rôle
Other kids get all the action
Here there is no satisfaction
On my face there is a smile
But it can only last a while
Here I stand, shake and shiver
Please little self, do not whither
For me it’s always such a pain
I’d have more fun cleaning a drain
My favourite players [...]

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