No thank you Mrs Frobisher - I'm busy that night.

I noticed that "Blithe Spirit" was on TV - all I remember of it was that the windows blew open, and I wasn't going to chance it again.

Do tell who Archiver


Seance at eight is a very old poem of mine, it was a chance to create a mixture of humour and creepiness

Homage to John Betjeman

Dear John, if you saw London
You'd simply look away,
Its beauty has been undone,
Grotesquerie holds sway.

You were a fan of elegance
And champion of grace,
Which sadly have no relevance
To this capital's face.

Though churches that you fought for
Stand tall amid the mess,
Now office blocks are sought more
St Paul's is seen much less.

Developers you once opposed
Were helped by modern schools
And all the ideas they proposed
Were passed by council fools.

It's bound to bring more work in
For each smug architect;
Who deemed a giant gherkin
Was lovely to inspect?

A leaning mass obscures the sky
Near Tower Bridge so fair -
The Thames horizon ruined by
A venue for the Mayor.

The streets that left you humbled
Have gained more urban sprawl,
The Wembley Towers have crumbled,
Smashed by a wrecking ball.

To Battersea the planners trail,
Four chimneys may look great;
The Power Station's view will fail
When they decide its fate.

You would not be delighted,
In fact you'd wander on,
Your London has been blighted
By all they've done, Dear John.


©

The rot set in in the sixties, didn't it? (Or was it the fifties?) I'm always amazed by some fabulous older buildings, and marvel at the skill and vision which created them.

Must admit I haven't been to London for many years.

Well the band is Cornershop and he plays Congas mostly for them, but does a lot of other stuff as well. I'd better not name him as it's a pretty uncommon name and it's possible he Googles it sometimes. Hi Pete

The Sixties, the Sixties Biz. Unsightly tower blocks and drab concrete horrors, someone's idea of modern architecture. I like beautiful buildings and the trendy Sixties developers weren't interested in that at all.


I remember Cornershop, an Asian band. Good stuff Archiver

Found it yet?

No, it's on an American site. I'll have to do some digging but I know it's there

Aaah! That must be the site I visited on the laptop I

Wondering

Have you wondered why the sun
Can paint an evening all as one?
As it sinks down in the west
There comes a time of perfect rest,
Then a picture is unrolled
So ornamental, rich and gold
It changes river, hill and sky,
Have you ever wondered why?

The ancients wondered till they knew;
Aware of every peaceful view
They turned the key and looked upon
Utopia and Avalon;
Science teaches many facts
But not the way a soul reacts,
How beauty witnessed through the eyes
Encourages the heart to rise.

This I know from what I've seen,
From ocean deep and valley green,
From lilac blossom, snow that falls
And sunlit ivy climbing walls.
Have you wondered at each star?
What endless, countless things they are,
A billion silver points of light
Like beacons in the black of night.

Only when we break the bond
Is there a way to pass beyond
And then perhaps we'll even see
The wonders of Eternity.


©

I skimmed it, and read the last few verses. Thought, "wow, that was great", so read the entire poem, and that was awesome!

Thanks very much Dawnrayd

An average expectation
In view of recent descent
And depreciation of our
Nation. What awaits us:
More degredation;
It's a declination of the age
The majority of so-and-sos
To get the minimal wage
On the backs of a minority's exploitation.
Oh but a majestic celebration
Plus a sport extravaganza there
Will be soon, sugar in a silvered spoon;
A royal distractive circus;
A loyal collaborative consensus
A febrile servile obsequiesness of some media-slash-press.
(A sort of "sicko-fancy" romance
Acquiescent pap-consuming compliance).
{these are personal opinions uninfluenced by any barons} F.

Worrying times Frank, but don't blame the Queen when It's all the brainchild of rich DC and his "advisers".

Actually there's someone on this forum who blames "oldies" - probably thinks all should move off to the afterlife as soon as possible instead of sucking all the money in their direction.

Anyway you've taught me a new word - declination.

The Jubilee and the Olympics - I'm bored already :yawn: Great write BTW Frank

Archie

I Archie & I

I had a special talent,
My turn could not be missed,
Described on showbiz posters
As 'Best Ventriloquist'.

From childhood I'd been able
To talk with my mouth still
Which fed my great ambition
To conquer vaudeville.

The dummy that I needed
Would have to steal each show,
I searched for one all over,
I hunted high and low.

And then inside a junk shop,
A shabby bargain bin,
I saw the beaming vision
Of Archie's wooden grin.

Despite the poor condition
And lots of wood to fix
My wallet could afford it,
He cost just two and six.

With suit and top hat added,
Smooth-varnished for the job
I carved and polished Archie
Into a witty snob.

A sudden hit, we filled seats
From Leeds to Halifax
And in Blackpool and Scunthorpe
We beat the other acts.

II Bess & I

The fans packed out theatres,
I basked in pure success
Till one night on the line-up
I noticed lovely Bess.

Not only could she sing well
She danced like heat uncaged,
We courted for a fortnight
And soon emerged engaged.

What happiness when we wed,
As no desire we lacked
It seemed completely natural
My wife should join the act.

With Bess as solo warm-up
Fame brought us everything,
The true star though was Archie,
Yes, Archie was the king.

III Archie, Bess & I

One night in our hotel suite
The three of us were there,
Bess sulked, her mood was sullen
While combing her long hair.

I'd never seen her this way,
Tight costume still not off
It sparkled on her body
As she began to scoff.

I asked what caused her bad mood,
Bess came back with 'Dear God!
It's you and your friend Archie,
Like two peas in a pod!'

I said 'Tell us what you mean'
To which she yelled 'Who's US?',
When I replied 'You're jealous'
She kicked up such a fuss.

Her grudge concerned how I'd just
Neglected her for days,
She blamed a wooden dummy
And my obsessive ways.

The argument grew noisy,
What awful things she said
But stopped her accusations
When Archie turned his head.

Bess knew I hadn't touched him,
He sat alone, yet sure
A puppet had frowned at her
She ran fast for the door.

Before she made her exit
He shouted with a twitch
'Pick up the bloody poker
And pulverise the bitch.'

I followed every order,
Throat dry, I had to gulp
Before I swung the metal
That smashed her to a pulp.

And when he grinned and thanked me
For making Bess expire,
Confused by life and Archie
I threw him on the fire.

Hot flames melted his body
Eyes open, having fits
He screamed as timber features
Turned into blackened bits.

IV Last Act

It's nice in this asylum,
No comfort I'm denied
And nights are never lonely
With Archie by my side.


©

Oooh creepy. Ripping yarn though.

Ta Biz, I like the tale of Archie Some errors occurred but the corrected version is now in America. I couldn't find the missing poem but never mind. On Saturday, with much needed help, I'm going to try to put every poem in my own file. Two copies will be sent out to acquaintances, so I'll have a permanent record with back-up. Then it's just a matter of correcting and polishing. I can then cherry pick what I need for a first potential collection

Things are really moving at last

Society is a volcano
And we are the lava
Bottlenecked by pressures
From family to friend to foe
Threatening to unleash itself
Once it all gets too much
Once ridged cracks which were once firm
Become too apart to repair
With innocents caught in the deepening chasm.

Society is like a volcano
And once its lava is unleashed
Rushing down the sides
And wreaking havoc in its path
Society reduced to animalistic instincts
Reduced to a state of primitive civilisation
Where skies of fire and rivers of blood
Rule over skies of hope and rivers and purity.

Society is like a volcano
The lava has cooled
But the damage is done
We are like ticking time bombs
One jolt
One step out of line
May fragment society
Like pieces of bomb shrapnel
Sharp enough to have
Perpetual consequence.

No easy task.


We live our lives on the brink don't we? Very frightening poem.

Thanks Musty for reading my missive poem about celebrating 60 "glorious years" oh and Biz it was not incidentally blaming the individual herself.
By the way Musty the famous Archie Andrews was voiced on radio, a vent act popular on steam radio. Those were the days my friend. Frank

A poem with an epic vision and the intelligence to note how close we are to the abyss. The recent riots showed how quickly some sections can revert to wild behaviour. Great write Allthings


I wonder if I chose the name Archie because I half-remembered that Frank? Ventriloquism on the radio must lose a lot of its magic


It should be easier than finding the buggers, which took me ages Biz

What in hidden spaces lurks in a DC comic?
If Batman romps with his Robin in gay frolic,
Superman knocks back booze, not villains
Because off-page at stages he's alcoholic.
Another dimension maybe, not to mention
Spiderman pulls legs off spiders, his other
Side's a web of lies he keeps up his sleeve.
Who'd believe spidey a super eracnaphobe,
Or Clark's quirk when in booths he disrobes?
The quick-change out of his sheerest frilly panties
Gives new meaning to superhero secret identities.

Re. last post, whoops! For word as I used it erroneously substitute correction of spelling "arachnophobe" it's the usual not spellchecking difficult words, I'll never learn, sorry. Me.

LMAO Great alternative view of all those brilliant super heroes Frank! I grew up with Batman and Spidey - a DC or Marvel comic only cost one and six in those days