Poems
I Am No Good At Love (Noel Coward)
I am no good at love
My heart should be wise and free
I kill the unfortunate golden goose
Whoever it may be
With over-articulate tenderness
And too much intensity.
I am no good at love
I batter it out of shape
Suspicion tears at my sleepless mind
And gibbering like an ape,
I lie alone in the endless dark
Knowing there's no escape.
I am no good at love
When my easy heart I yield
Wild words come tumbling from my mouth
Which should have stayed concealed;
je ne sais quoi turns a bed of bliss
Into un lit vide
I am no good at love
I betray it with little sins
For I feel the misery of the end
In the moment that it begins
And the bitterness of the last good-bye
Is the bitterness that wins.
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Strawberries
There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you
let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills
let the storm wash the plates
-- Edwin Morgan
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An Irish Airman Foresees His Death (Yeats)
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
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Where is God? I've got him
I have God tied up in my basement
I have tied him up using ordinary string
I have tied him to an ordinary chair
Doesn’t seem so great now, does he?
Never mind why I have him.
If he got himself into this mess,
Don’t you think a great lord could get out?
If you ever want to see God again
Send me £100 000 in an unmarked bag
Or alternatively
£5 a viewing
£10 a picture
£50 a punch!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Modern Prayer, by DH Lawrence.
Almighty Mammon, make me rich!
Make me rich quickly, with never a hitch
in my fine prosperity! Kick those in the ditch
Who hinder me, Mammon, great son of a bitch!
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Making A Difference
My work is done, your work begins I pass to you the baton.
Remember me, if you really must but don't regret we'll turn to dust when we have lived our time.
Don't read my life as if it were the duller kind of history, speak boldly, with affection and with love for this is how I would be remembered as one who saw the shadows coming and did not shirk from simple duty.
Be prepared to take a stand. Remember when you raise your children, teach and tell to mark the lessons we've forgotten well. Make a difference when you live your life be ever faithful to a loving wife live long enough, be strong enough and have the sense to clearly see the truth of our equality.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Shortness of Breath
There is much of the past in the present.
If we are wise we shall see there aren't any joins, hours make up days, turn to weeks in a month then a season has passed - another Summer. Youth becomes manhood, love simply sex and friendship worth more than life itself.
The important things never seem so at the time.
What is lost has more value than all that is gained, and the end is too late for remembering.
Breathe deeply or not at all shake the branches of the tree make hay while the sun shines and then, if you must, try to remember me.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Fellow Man
I have no prayers or charms of faith
If God there be, He’ll know my weight
If God be nought, I’ll still do good
And practice justice as I should
We should not seek reward to do
What decency expects us to
Should Heaven be a kingly court
I’ll go elsewhere to prove my worth
Don’t get me wrong- I’ve sought belief
But lust for faith brought no relief
Mere logic leaves me where I stand
I am not blest, nor am I damned
I seek to do what good I can
I am your friend, a fellow man
tom white
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am no good at love
My heart should be wise and free
I kill the unfortunate golden goose
Whoever it may be
With over-articulate tenderness
And too much intensity.
I am no good at love
I batter it out of shape
Suspicion tears at my sleepless mind
And gibbering like an ape,
I lie alone in the endless dark
Knowing there's no escape.
I am no good at love
When my easy heart I yield
Wild words come tumbling from my mouth
Which should have stayed concealed;
je ne sais quoi turns a bed of bliss
Into un lit vide
I am no good at love
I betray it with little sins
For I feel the misery of the end
In the moment that it begins
And the bitterness of the last good-bye
Is the bitterness that wins.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strawberries
There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you
let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills
let the storm wash the plates
-- Edwin Morgan
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death (Yeats)
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Where is God? I've got him
I have God tied up in my basement
I have tied him up using ordinary string
I have tied him to an ordinary chair
Doesn’t seem so great now, does he?
Never mind why I have him.
If he got himself into this mess,
Don’t you think a great lord could get out?
If you ever want to see God again
Send me £100 000 in an unmarked bag
Or alternatively
£5 a viewing
£10 a picture
£50 a punch!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Modern Prayer, by DH Lawrence.
Almighty Mammon, make me rich!
Make me rich quickly, with never a hitch
in my fine prosperity! Kick those in the ditch
Who hinder me, Mammon, great son of a bitch!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Making A Difference
My work is done, your work begins I pass to you the baton.
Remember me, if you really must but don't regret we'll turn to dust when we have lived our time.
Don't read my life as if it were the duller kind of history, speak boldly, with affection and with love for this is how I would be remembered as one who saw the shadows coming and did not shirk from simple duty.
Be prepared to take a stand. Remember when you raise your children, teach and tell to mark the lessons we've forgotten well. Make a difference when you live your life be ever faithful to a loving wife live long enough, be strong enough and have the sense to clearly see the truth of our equality.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Shortness of Breath
There is much of the past in the present.
If we are wise we shall see there aren't any joins, hours make up days, turn to weeks in a month then a season has passed - another Summer. Youth becomes manhood, love simply sex and friendship worth more than life itself.
The important things never seem so at the time.
What is lost has more value than all that is gained, and the end is too late for remembering.
Breathe deeply or not at all shake the branches of the tree make hay while the sun shines and then, if you must, try to remember me.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Fellow Man
I have no prayers or charms of faith
If God there be, He’ll know my weight
If God be nought, I’ll still do good
And practice justice as I should
We should not seek reward to do
What decency expects us to
Should Heaven be a kingly court
I’ll go elsewhere to prove my worth
Don’t get me wrong- I’ve sought belief
But lust for faith brought no relief
Mere logic leaves me where I stand
I am not blest, nor am I damned
I seek to do what good I can
I am your friend, a fellow man
tom white
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------