JSQ

Two young boys noticed some sweets
on the ground by the jumble sale queue
obviously unfit to eat
and pondered what to do;
furtive whispers and shuffling feet
decided some stamping was due.

Gleefully they stomped a dance
with vocal accompaniment too
having fun with no backward glance
but trepidation grew;
adults looked at them askance
fearing trouble would brew.

Enter a toddler who didn't hide
his intention to join the crew
clearly set on a course to collide
but mother had him in view;
"Elijah ! Step aside. Step aside."
and he wobbled back to the queue.

Because you begin to obsess me
I think I had better explain
this passion that starts to possess me
will bring less pleasure than pain.

What starts as a little flirtation
with honesty rather than lies
can soon become infatuation
with caution cast to the skies.

Despite that your smile enthralls me,
your youthfulness tempts me so,
your personality calls me,
I grieve to let myself go.

I find myself wanting to see you;
your presence brightens my day
but I certainly ought to flee you
because there's too much to pay.

You need to be courted by young men,
some charming and vigorous lad
first suitor, next lover and last then
dependable husband and dad.

How beautiful the colour of blood is on the white paper;
how vibrantly it dyes the toilet bowl water.
Nothing unusual for women to see in menstruation
but beauty with fear for me in defecation.

I live in Now, a narrow space
forgetting how I reached this place.
Important then to understand
what happened when and why some planned
events in Past did not succeed
while others last and far exceed
the aims of Soon where hopes reside
and wants balloon till all collide.
The Future sings a siren tune
but what it brings may prove no boon.
The way ahead is never clear;
safer instead to shelter here
in Now and let the Past expand
though I forget much that it spanned.
But Now moves on while Past extends
till Future's gone and living ends.

You know I wouldn't want to lead you on
for nothing with the risks we'd have to take;
you don't know what you've got until it's gone
and then it costs so much for one mistake.
I know 'cos i'm a bloody fool sometimes
and just end up by reaping what I sow;
and so perhaps we'd better stick to rhymes
and just content ourselves with what we know -
having our little secret when we meet,
if not lovers, partners in deceit.

Mammon

The great god Mammon has shrines all round the globe;
his worship spans the hhistory of man;
while most religions' fortunes ebbed and flowed,
his primacy's endured since time began.

As greed served evolution's strategy
and money eased accumulating wealth,
so favoured men by legal larceny,
conquest, subterfuge or cunning stealth

enriched themselves beyond all normal needs
and wasted scarce resources without shame,
creating envy in the other creeds
for decadent luxury and foolish fame.

Then wealth became the aim of simple minds,
a dream to solve life's problems in a flash
of rich relations' wills or various kinds
of  windfall, property or lottery cash.

More sober souls could build life-long careers
on steady increase of portfolios,
a bigger house or better car in years
to come without risking imbroglios.

For women Mammon is a household god
with furnishings and white goods in his praise,
his holy book a big store catalogue
accompanying prayers prosperity stays.

While every new possession adds some spice
to lives that need the interest that comes
from something new, and shopping's no great vice,
and no-one really wants to live in slums,

too much devotion to the Mammon cause
can badly warp our personalities;
cupidity is not the worst of flaws
but magnifies our other frailities.

Thus blinkered eyes of envy only see
the rich, ignoring those less fortunate,
encouraging selfishness and snobbery,
refusing help to the inadequate.

Instead of  'Love thy neighbour' Mammon's flock
believe that 'Charity begins at home',
so comfortably avoiding any shock
responsibility where they don't roam.

"We can be friends with anyone." they say,
"We have no prejudices, that we know.
We don't let creed or colour bar the way
to anybody's progress; let them go

their own way, we'll go ours and then no doubt
we all can prosper. Oh, and by the way,
just pull the ladder up on your way out."
("You know it's only sensible." they say.)

Of course we all want to improve our lot
and give our children what we never had
but does the need for what we haven't got
obscure the fact indulgence can be bad

for them as well as us: obesity
signals excessive cash but bankrupt wills,
and unathletic minds zapped by TV
think life should be a constant stream of thrills;

or, failing to distinguish real from fake,
we search for meaning in the shopping mall
and fuss about the icing on the cake
when many people don't have cake at all.

How little does the latest fashion count
compared to widespread third world poverty
and all the problems others can't surmount
unless we curb our selfish vanity?

How dare we hanker after some new toy
or windowshop for something nice to buy
when somewhere parents, whom our whims destroy,
for lack of medicine, watch their children die?

No doubt our primate ancestry explains
our need for status and respect from peers
but if a whole economy ingrains
just selfishness, it surely causes fears

for that society's continuance.
Could Mammon's blessings undermine their cause
since wealth and luxury breed decadence
and hasten terrorism and new wars?

Still we enjoy our wealth without complaints,
believing everything is fairly priced
and trust in Mammon's pantheon of saints
where Father Christmas outranks Jesus Christ.

Crash

"I think he's alright. He moved his head."

the TV commentator said.

But he wasn't alright. Ayrton Senna was dead.

His head hadn't 'moved' but slumped instead.