Auguries of Innocence (abridged) by William Blake 1757-1827

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dog starv’d at his master’s gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The wild deer, wand’ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.

I don't know if it was intended, but this one made me laugh - especially the hotter/blotter rhyme

This poem brought to mind the atrocity in Nice but I guess it applies to lots of different conflicts. Some people are stuck in the medieval era sadly. Nice one John

On a lighter note

Reggies Veggies


Old Reg worked in his garden
From early day till night
His cabbage were an eyeful
New tatties free from blight

They said he had a secret
Which made the marrow grow
He never told another
Of his special kind of sow

One day he felt all shaky
His heart set at a flutter
He looked upon his radish
And said this final mutter

‘I’ve loved you all my beauties’
As tears fell down his cheeks
And as he took the final gasp
Dropped dead among the leeks.

His funeral was a legend
For his grave a barrow made
Instead of laid in coffin
They propped him on a spade.

So when the vicar finished
With words meant to console
His friends each picked an onion
And threw it in the hole

Some say they hear him digging
It helped to come to terms
That Reg still grew his turnips
Down there among the worms.

Alone after the battle

Thoughts of all that’s passed
Such death and destruction.
An existence of brutality and blood,
Broken rarely by tenderness
That never lasts.

Thoughts of men, of women,
Of children. Of people. Dead.
Gone. And to where?
Some to hell with me.
But most not, probably.

Birth to death, an endless fight.
Memories of gutters, and thieving,
And beatings in the foundling home,
To harden a soul that might have lived,
That it would darken.

Many years in the red coat have flown,
And here I sit, on this Spanish hill, and weep.
With time to feel, for the first time.
And from my darkened soul comes, with pain,
A glint of light, I think.

Thanks

Thanks, I enjoy your poems also.

Through Inspiration

Quietness through inspiration
is a long road to fathom
with a turn at each corner
so does a maze grow far

I'm not surprised, given that it wasn't "Dave" or "Neptune", but Steve and Circon 9.


Must say I'm stunned by the quality of poetry here again and I don't do praise very well, but Elyan; your 'Alone after the battle' gets me every time I read it. Thank you and all.

While we look and sigh at the Worldwide view
stop......
Look, love and cherish what is close to you.

Thank you archiver.

Few really 'laugh out loud' online and I couldn't if I wanted to (I'm on the second floor of the library, where absolute silence reigns). Reggie's Veggies is completely hilarious and has shades of Ernie, Benny Hill's classic number one

I sense Reggie may have met Archibald the Trumper before his flight to Peru

I'm still baffled Sorry

The Final Frontier

On the bridge where Sulu steers
The captain took a leak,
As Spock pricked up his Vulcan ears,
Uhura gave a shriek
And when embarrassed looks began
Kirk told the crew 'Be sure,
I'm boldly going where no man
Has ever gone before.'


©

A realistic assessment of a mind in the aftermath of hell. I watched a documentary on the Somme the other night and felt grateful I wasn't born in that era. Your poetry always gives a glimpse of the horror of war Elyan. A moving tale with a fragile but positive end

Beautiful words of wisdom Flower


I like the way the road becomes a maze - nice one Sandy

I am the Magic Bullet

One trigger but who'd pull it
To murder JFK?
I am the magic bullet
That haunts the USA.

The sniper was a dead-eye,
The patsy was marooned,
How flattering they said I
Caused every single wound.

The facts are rather hazy,
That's why my nickname suits,
The path I took was crazy,
The oddest of all routes:

Into a back I speeded,
Up through a neck, a twist,
Then onward I proceeded
To leg from chest and wrist.

Yet on forensics wholly
The experts would agree;
Each injury was solely
Accredited to me.

I shook the world as lawless
Exhibit 399,
Pristine, intact and flawless,
No magic equals mine.


©

Brixton Slides and Margate Tides

Before old Brixton slid into a crucible of crime
For kids it seemed like paradise, despite the stone and grime.

Me and my brother were two of five mates
Who got used to bruises
And setbacks and shocks;
In Brixton you learned at the school of hard knocks.

When Red Rover tickets were not seen as dangers,
On red London buses and tubes we were rangers,
A carefree world beckoned without fear of strangers.

The Monument, Hornimans Museum where
Stuffed animals gave an oblivious stare,
Carnaby Street blooming with flower power,
Battersea Funfair, the GPO Tower.

We loved Marvel Comics, of that there's no doubt
But no comics equalled those golden days out
When pop music touched you, the ultimate groove
Came from Procul Harum, The Herd and The Move.

Once at Crystal Palace we sailed on the lake,
Me and my twin brother and Shaun left a wake,
The metal boat we rowed called number 14
Traversed murky depths that looked chilling and green.
Drifting far out where the flora impedes,
Stuck in an octopus-tangle of reeds,
Number 14 has been unlucky since;
Childhood can leave behind odd fingerprints.

Once in a café we five sat for tea,
Laughs became tears until I couldn't see,
On mere pocket money together we dined,
Soap in the gents embossed 'Made By The Blind'.

And Margate in sixty-six gave such a thrill,
Our guest house was managed by kind Mrs Bill,
Cornflakes, toast with marmalade, loud for the throng
Meals were announced by the bang of a gong.

Me and my brother felt free, on the run
Swapping old Brixton for two weeks of fun,
Playing in Margate beneath the bright sun.

Yellow subs bubbled on tinny transistors,
There we met Geoffrey and his pretty sisters,
Unlike our dad, Geoffrey's dad had a car;
In it his parents would ferry us far.
We gaped at a longship the Vikings had moored,
We saw Julie Andrews and when her voice soared,
The hills seemed alive, we were innocent, green,
If you were a child then, you'll know what I mean.

Two brothers in Dreamland with magical lights,
What great rides we took on those magical nights,
The fast Scenic Railway and Tunnel of Love,
The bumper cars caught in the push and the shove.
The jingle of fruit machines starting to pour.
The Mods and the Rockers preparing for war,
The stripes of the deckchairs that glared in a line,
The mariner's statue who stared at the brine.

Before old Margate turned into a ghost town by the sea
It seemed a paradise for kids like my brother and me.


©

Similarity.

I must confess I try to impress
by dint of doubt deduced.
It's me, no less, but my address
dynamically reduced
to bits and bobs, cables and knobs
and cartwheels well to do.
Embittered mobs demanding jobs.
Bad feeling doth accrue.

I can not hide. My sense of pride
portrays me as a mess.
I almost died the day I lied.
I could not confess.
Was not my fault that lightning bolt
missed me by a mile.
Your catapult insult?
My late night yawning smile.

Never mind human kind.
What will be will be.
I pined, I rhymed. I underlined.
It's all the same to me.

I know what you mean Musty. I was brought up in North London, and in those days, despite the fact that most people didn't have two shillings to rub together, it was a good life.

We holidayed on the Isle of Sheppey, but had many days out in Margate. You're right, it has now lost it's magic.

Happy memories though, and nobody can take those away.

Happy memories indeed Elyan A kid in my class used to holiday on the Isle of Sheppey. I guess the Brixton/Margate poem is only going to be understood by readers of a certain age

Great finale John I enjoyed Similarity

It's said "it's better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all"
I don't agree, it's at terrible cost
when you're pushed and have to fall.

Unbearable pain hits you right in the chest,
As your heart is cruely ripped out.
A living hell describes it best
as you wonder how this came about.

The world you know is torn apart.
The life you had just dies.
And all because you gave your heart
to one who you now despise.

I'd rather not have loved at all.
I'd rather have been left alone.
Because now I'd be partying, having a ball
Instead of sitting here feeling like a proper SUCKER !!!!!

^^ I like that one bobbysmom and it helped me write the one below. All a bit too gloomy for a nice day, but I'm running low.


Thanks again musty. Good to read The Final Frontier again. Never fails to make me

Fallout Shelter.

Having fallen out again,
was something I said?
Growing tired of the pain.
Something else instead.

Plenty of all I need
squirrelled away.
Millions of books to read
and instruments to play.

So easy to get down there.
So hard to get back out.
It's better than nowhere.
I can even shout
as loud as I ever did
to get it off my chest.
Done with going out amid
the worst and the best.

I won't miss you anymore,
whatever your name.
I've become an eyesore
and you're all the same
to me, as I know I am
and that's the weird thing.

Now. Shut up like a clam.
I've been noticing;
How fully empty
my life has been.
Plenty of empathy,
but no one seen.

So; farewell suckers.
Thanks for all the fish.
Bye bye me muckers.
Seal accomplished.