'Lest we forget'
The Third World War is on its way
and all the while everyone sits
patiently drinking tea sleeping
or fixing bolts on to large sheets
of metal, slaving over pliable life.
I'm in the bath:
The War is a million miles away.
I know a decent set of mountains.
I know basic survival.
I know how to run.
If I am not caught in some
atomic explosion melted down
to my basic puddle of atoms
then I'll find a way to ignore
all the hell and horror
and set up my own Croft
somewhere beyond
City and Contract
and the wall of War.
I shall grow
Giant Vegetables and Fruits,
learn whittling
craftsmanship
sing at the top of my voice.
And no one will know
the secret of my escape…
6 comments:
hey big man. as you my know from my comments on our shuggys blog im no really wan fur the poems. this was pretty good thou. might yet change ma opinion that poetry is fur the burds.
do you ever just flick through random blogs and feel a searing hatred for the people that post sickening pictures of happy family life, or is the deerstalker blurin my faculties again???
maybe once the pills start workin again i might feel different, but seeing these all american families makes me hope for some form of heroin abuse in their relatives. is this sick???
I know that croft. It's on the north facing side of Benjiggerypokery. Luckily there's a small pub there in which winsome women always think your poetry charming.
just read beached whale
class
Shug, I hope your found the poem charming, it may seem a little flippant considering the gravity of 'remeberance day' but it is more comical to stave off fear of this mad world.
brokendown, glad to see you have discovered the poetry. I hope you return and read freely.
Unlike Shug, I don't know it, I've been looking for it all my life. Until I find it, your poem will have to do -it's the next-best thing.
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