A FORGETFUL MOMENT

'I love this game of golf'

An old man said to the other.

'What did you say about Rolf?'

came a confused reply.

'No Rolf isn't playing today'

came another reply out loud

'Why is that, is he still,

trying to fly?'

'No! The last time he came,

he lost his way.

He didn't get home

until the next day.'

'Aye! the demented old git'

They say his name was Ben.'

He found him asleep in the House of Lords

In the rear pew, and it was half past ten.'

*******

UNDER THE COVER

Under the cover of darkness

The annual trek has begun,

Sent out by my wife because,

She says delivering cards is not fun.

Off I go into the night conspicuously

With my hat shielding my face,

Like a demon of the night I deliver

These Christmas cards at a rapid pace.

But not to be fooled by nosy neighbours

Who welcome me in for a festive drink,

One after another like a pub crawl

my head spins and I begin to think.

As I return home to find many cards I didn't get

Because our super fast neighbours sent them on the internet.

                     ********

The Light Of Another Day

 Please try this link for The Light Of Another Day

A Moment in Time

A Moment in Time

The Light Of Another Day

The Light Of Another Day

Dreaming in the forest

Dreaming in the forest

INDEPENDENCE DAY

Independence Day

History and politics have always fascinated me in some way, from trying to understand man’s lust for greed, to realising the reasons for man’s downfall over the years since history has been recorded.

If we look back and see the Empires that have been dominant over the years from British, Chinese, German, Greek, Roman, and Russian, naming but a few over ancient to present, with American democratic power, we have seen the changes of man, but a lot comes down to the same criteria ‘Greed’, until another power decides they have had enough and want either their independence or want it all for themselves. 

This evolution appears to be running at a rate where the inevitable could be upon the human race and sooner than we expect.

Independence Day

This is the year of 1776

When America got out of a fix,

Getting independence from Britain

From then, they shall reign.

From natives shooting with bow and arrow

To guns, bombs and from banks to borrow,

This modern day they are a power to all

But from a great height they will one day fall.

Like any kingdom they celebrate their day

With a celebration they shout loudly “hooray!”

Banging their drums and blowing their bugles

To this day with their Facebooks and Googles.

Even sending rockets and men to the moon

Hoping they could live there one day soon.

But now as the money begins to run out  

The East is catching up fast with a clout.

Look at the meaning of Independence Day

Does it sound so sinister in some way?

As other countries try to compete

To battle with all, could end in defeat.

           **********

SLAVE

I wrote this poem was after watching a film called  'A Slave for 12 years.' And although this was very racially motivated in the past in particular; there has been an increase of using vulnerable people of all races including vulnerable British, of all ages, who haven't been able to stand up for themselves and fight back.

Bashed and bruised physically and mentally
scarred by my tormentors through eternity.
Sound of drunken laughter from other man,
trying to out-do others the best way he can.

The best production at only my cost,
picking cotton to see other lives lost.
The evil of man pushing others in such a way,
with chains and whips in the heat of the day.

Blood seeping scars in the sun light,
I feel the maggots move during the night,
then told to entertain the guest with laughter,
A mere slave I remain the day after.

As my body grows old and I know the score,
my soul has now gone, I cannot live any more.

********

LACE CAP

 

 An inspiration from a tree of white flowers

Blossoming in the months May and June.

Shading me from the hot summer sun,

I sit listening to a bird whistling a tune.

 

This tree or bush many would argue

I call the Umbrella or Parasol tree,

With beams of sunlight shining through

onto your fine face smiling at me.

 

Sparkling ripples from the nearby brook

babble across the pebbles so fine,

with white petals falling like snow

on your fair skin with red lips like wine.

 

While I sit writing this poem so refined

inspired from this tree in my mind.

 

 

*****

10th Anniversary

Ten years it has been

since I walked out that door,

when I decided it was time 

to be an engineer no more.

Times had changed at my works

the spirit gone to consultants,

we were becoming motivated

by strategies from incumbents.

Using our old muscles and minds

getting metal splinters cuts and grazes,

with oily rags, dirt and dust

 getting work done like the blazes.

A rollicking from the foreman

if the job was incomplete,

keep the production ticking over

after hours standing on concrete.

My job, being a physical one

bending metal on the fly press,

forging metal in the fire

my temper heated, I confess.

Then I would hear the lunch bell 

only half the day it felt slow,

as my final day approached

I just couldn't wait to go. 

Yes! We would have some fun

with games of cards, darts, football,

plus the occasional social drink

until we heard the gaffers' call.

Out through the factory gates

I looked behind to reflect,

those thirty years of graft

I leave with some respect.

Now the tenth anniversary

since that time in May,

when I collected my belongings

with not so much to say.

That one final farewell visit

 to that old nostalgic place,

I said cheerio for the last time

with the widest smile on my face.

*****

The Life of William Shakespeare 1594 - 1616

The greatest writer of his time

With comedy classics on the stage

to tragedy, history and poetry

Until we turn the final page.

We may say that all's well that ends well

maybe the start of a comedy of errors

With Hamlet, Macbeth to Julius Caesar

to grace us all with many terrors

With passionate plays like Romeo and Juliet

The Tempest and The Taming of the Shrew

Poetic fantasies with The Sonnets to add

As if he didn't have much else to do.

Many writers have come and gone

But William Shakespeare's work will go on and on and on….

******

EARTH HOUR

This special time on the calendar,

a point to think during one hour

of this wonderful planet Earth,

reflecting man's abusive devour,

of other species and environmental beauty

across the oceans to mountainous terrains,

with arctic circles, the fields and forest

with heat, ice and snow to when it rains.

An ever increasing population

living in great comfort and wealth,

or many live and die in destitute,

in conflict or very poor health.

But this is not about man,

it is about Mother Earth as we know,

as it spins during this hour

through space with a colourful glow.

A small moon compares to other planets,

containing so much conflict and strife,

this prominent blue, green and white, world

with colours mixed to give so much life.

I think to myself if someone asked me,

where or what this Earth is?

Would I believe it is the same place?

Is it Nature's wonder or is it his?

Is this Heaven or Hell?

What are the ideal solutions?

to keep this wonderful planet

free from man's toxic pollutions?

So I think what I should do,

not ought to, or think of doing next time.

We just have to stop killing the Earth.

If we don't, that will be the ultimate crime.

*******

Appearance

This is a different approach from me without any rhyme, but just to capture the suspense in a short verse.

Appearance

I stand proud in my suit,

A Smart, professional appearance,

Not really what you expect.

When you suffer a different experience,

Things are not what they seem,

Even the person next to you,

You wonder if they are real.

Or if their stories are true,

This is a story of a journey,

A train ride on the underground,

Who is this man standing next to me?

Not knowing where the train is bound.

I ask him "Where are we going?

Is it travelling up to the light?"

I am taken by this apparition,

As this man disappears

Into the darkness and out of sight.

******

A SAD REFLECTION

This was written at a workshop 3rd April 2016,  held by Claire Walker in St John's Library Worcester.

A Sad Reflection

Sitting in a shelter,

Waiting for the next boat,

To find my old life,

To keep my hopes afloat.

Cold wind blowing across the lake

With only a hat, jacket and scarf,

To keep me warm from the wintry chill,

Now, I remember taking the wrong path.

Yes! I am in remission from my habit,

 Being stoned every night with alcohol,

Followed by cocaine and pot to smoke,

 falling into a six foot deep hole.

Many will reject me, please don't,

Am I going home? Will they want me?

I look in the mirror because,

I want to break free.

I  wish I said no.

I am sorry,

I begin to shiver,

Sorry everybody, sorry… sorry…s

****

                                  

                                                                        

                                                                            ©Copyright Tim Stavert 14th April 2014