What does a little wave know
of the ocean's depth below?
Is it only a passing breeze
disturbs the surface so?
When the sea is always calm
and we have no fear of harm,
its sparkling face is there to please,
its quietness is its charm.
But is there something moving,
too deep for certain proving,
a turbulence that might just seize
the chance of life improving?
And if some turmoil under
the surface tears asunder
that placid and untroubled ease,
then hear the ocean's thunder.
For what if the sea-bed shakes
and the ocean mid-ridge quakes?
Must pulsing lava always freeze
and fail what it undertakes?
New land was the objective,
new sights, a new perspective,
relationships as remedies
against the old invective.
What does a little wave show
of emotion's depth below?
Are we no longer enemies
as the parting breezes blow?
But far too late to save me,
a gesture to enslave me,
in the carpark by the alder trees -
that little wave you gave me !
Which is poems of modern ideas in traditional poetry forms, rhyming poems and rhythmic poems plus some less proper items, jokes, epigrams, etc.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
The mystery of female genitals
"I saw her knickers !"
"Liar."
"Yes, I did."
"What colour then ?"
"They're white."
They always were.
It was a time of shortage after the war.
We sat cross-legged upon a wooden floor
and shivered in the cold assembly hall,
whispering behind our guarding hands that hid
our guilty curiosity, two small
boys nudging each other to puberty.
The lady teacher demonstrating dance
paused to adjust her skirt. We knew of course
that girls lacked willies; what they had instead
seemed nothing much. We hardly gave a glance
at their groins. Women though had breasts which led
us to suppose there might be something rare
behind the veil of their underwear.
"Liar."
"Yes, I did."
"What colour then ?"
"They're white."
They always were.
It was a time of shortage after the war.
We sat cross-legged upon a wooden floor
and shivered in the cold assembly hall,
whispering behind our guarding hands that hid
our guilty curiosity, two small
boys nudging each other to puberty.
The lady teacher demonstrating dance
paused to adjust her skirt. We knew of course
that girls lacked willies; what they had instead
seemed nothing much. We hardly gave a glance
at their groins. Women though had breasts which led
us to suppose there might be something rare
behind the veil of their underwear.
Incident at the Tate
" he'll certainly die and then I'll go to prison "
Certainly that would-be murderer of a little boy
was obsessed by the idea of killing a child.
But sane enough to know that he would live
after his conviction rather than be executed.
But what if that teenager had known for certain
that he would be put to death for the murder
instead of living a cared-for life in prison ?
Would the death penalty have been a deterrent ?
Certainly that would-be murderer of a little boy
was obsessed by the idea of killing a child.
But sane enough to know that he would live
after his conviction rather than be executed.
But what if that teenager had known for certain
that he would be put to death for the murder
instead of living a cared-for life in prison ?
Would the death penalty have been a deterrent ?
Wednesday, 10 November 2010
Love that loses
never chooses,
lets itself be led
with kind smiles
or by lust's wiles
into trouble's bed.
never chooses,
lets itself be led
with kind smiles
or by lust's wiles
into trouble's bed.
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.
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.
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.
how vibrantly it dyes the toilet bowl water.
Nothing unusual for women to see in menstruation
but beauty with fear for me in defecation.
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