Sunday, August 22, 2010
Poetry – 14th Feb 2010.
Regrets, I have had a lot,
But all the better for them.
Better to have lived and loved,
Than not all.
We cannot rise without a fall,
No response, without a call.
No joy without sadness,
No shade without light.
We stumble, mumble, stagger on
On roads not yet mapped and marked,
We stutter, stammer, improvise
And draw with many colours
The rich and interesting tapestries
The threads that weave our life.
No woman is an island
And yet she must sometimes stand
Alone and pregnant with the one
She fears and longs for in equal urge
The most and least unnatural
Invasion of her womb
Oneness and twoness
So many around
Yet so few within
Then comes the hour
Feared and wanted
A crying creature
Or a lovely child?
Only moments to decide
Which way it falls
When the little voice calls
Yet days ahead to love
To cherish and to mourn
What is given and what is taken.
I tried to speak to God by phone today,
But the message minder said he was away.
I was just a little curious and a bit inquisitive
As to the meaning of life and other little things.
I thought I might check with the man above
I am assuming it’s a man and its up
But it could equally be a woman and be down
Where our hopes rise and our fears fade.
Nearer my God would be great
But just a little louder would make my day.
My God, my God,
Why have I forsaken you?
‘Time’ said the weary barman
‘Amen’ said the drunken angel at the bar
‘Have you no harp to play, no hymns to sing?’
‘I used to be big in the firmament,
But all things change you know,
I am no longer permanent’.
The tired angel left the lounge,
The barman sighed, then locked the door
‘I’ve settled for this’ he thought
‘But I always wanted more’
Many are the things we said and meant
Words that sounded right and decent
‘See you soon’ ‘I’ll write or call’
But life moves on and intentions fall.
She waved and cried and pressed the tissue
Her eyes so sad said ‘how I’ll miss you’
As from the station the train pulls out
And her carriage hastens along the track
His heart is broken yet he waves back
Across the days and months and years
Now another boyfriend dries her tears.
And life bursts forth, the sap is rising.
Love reasserts, it’s not disloyal
He’s gone to war
In a trench lies dying.
The meal’s gone cold and cannot be reheated,
Love and lust must run their passion
The feckless lover who moves on
To bring new flowers in the garden season.
We will remember and for a while
Attend the grave and change the flowers
After a time when the colour has run
The headstone blanches and the engravings tumble
And the songbird gaily whistles
His song in the tree
Above the peaceful cemetery.