2012 - September 2014
Donald E. Meek
The poet thought that it would be distasteful - not least 'metri causa' - to use the vulgarism 'Brum' of that noble city, and he decided that 'Bream' was aesthetically a little bit more up-market. Poets are normally conservative in their use of diction, but this bard is somewhat counter-cultural.
'Britannia' wallows to lee,
Held up by the great China Sea:
That eastern ocean
Will now be her potion -
Dave's bailing her out on his knee!
'It's the Yuan, not the Yen, Mr Dave;
It will save you from having to save:
We're ready to come,
We'll count the sum -
To bank on our checkers you crave!'
She's there wi' her braw rolling-pin,
Hingin' oot, wi' a big cheesy grin;
'When Ally comes hame,
Ah'll gie him the blame,
An' land him a crack oan his chin.'
Hard life being a poet - though I'm not a Real One, thank goodness, or I'd be up all night receiving messages from the Muse. I think she's gone digital with the rest of them, as she seems to run on big gigs these days. I don't know how a Real Poet can survive the Muse's download. The occasional 'dump' is bad enough, as this shows. I can't work out why I wrote this, or who or what the Muse had in mind when she sent it to me. If any of my FB friends can enlighten me, I'll be eternally grateful. Iain Crichton Smith had the same problem, I'm glad to say. Hadn't a clue what his own poems meant. 'They must have meant something when I wrote them' was his position on these mysteries when I asked him. You can see how he prepared me well for my poetic career, and opened my receptivity to the Muse. Look forward to some elucidation from the literary critics on FB.
The eye's on the mirror - rear view:
The gear-lever's gripping the screw:
For the past we all yearn,
So it's full speed astern;
But I'd prefer to go forward - wouldn't you?
This was inspired (if that is the right word) by the sight of that tired, old slogan from yesteryear, 'I'm backing Britain', appearing as part of the 'No' Campaign. So original, so meaningful, so novel and fresh. Boy, am I weary of the Yes/No game!
When we thought of Teneriffe,
Someone said 'Ton o' grief',
And for Lanzarote,
They said 'Lanzagrotty' –
So we decided to head for Crieff!
Energy really does matter,
According to political chatter,
But the overall aim
Is always the same –
To make the fat cats a lot fatter!
He said he'd found his Nirvana
Somewhere to the west of Canna;
By way of reply
I said with a sigh,
'I've searched all my days, but Ah canna!'
Please come to the happiest Isles,
Where people always wear smiles;
Where neighbours don't fight
And transport is right,
And 'empties' are not seen in piles.
Theresa's fancy removal van
Has been given a lifelong ban;
She's declared SORN,
And can't toot the horn
At those silly jay-walkers who ran!
Today the dear Royal Mail
Is going for a mighty big sale;
This great flotation
Will rip off the nation -
Fat cats will get cream in the Pale!
Paterson may step on the gas
To bring his slaughter to pass;
He'll not lack supply
In the Big House down by -
Guff and puff form most of its mass!
The 'Muirneag' brought Bounty at night,
And Kit-kats too got their bite;
But now nothing Mars
Her path to the stars -
Her future's a Turkish Delight!
The embryonic Referend Um
Is stuck in the panda's tum;
With no sign of 'Yes',
We'll just have to guess
When the cub's independence will come!
Can you tell me the colour of Ed?
As a Brit, he's blue, white and red;
But to be in the pink
He’s now had to think -
And keep crimson as part of his thread!
Ed has developed an itch
To play with the energy switch;
But bosses have said,
'The light is at red;
You will not get a green from us, titch!'