There once was this witch with a massive beard
Her suitors loved it, which sounds kind of weird
She did have a razor
But preferred a laser
And would slice wildly if large growths appeared
By
David Kavanagh
Oh to be in England
With joys on takeaway
When spring has cast magic
That glorifies each day.
Many seaside places
For summer holidays
North, east, west and down south
A kaleidoscope of stays.
Autumn comes, leaves then fall
Pretty carpets they lay
Beneath the barren trees
To feed new growths way.
Winters bring on beauty
One could not downplay
The scenic wonderland
That brighten earth's display.
England’s many voices
Accents in wide array
O’er towns and countryside
That charm dialogues sway.
Alternate scenic world's
Stupendous landscapes.
Grass-lain, gazing up to!
Tallest of growths through!
All our wishing, dreaming
What floaty, cloudy
Is tinted with; morns, eves.
Bright its trace soul leaves!
The Battlefield of Survival
There is nothing that brings out our fragility
to surface like surgery, dreams one has of
success is laid bare under the well-lit light
of an operating table
First time I had one of those growths removed
was seventy-five years ago by our doctor
wearing a three-piece suit with a blue tie
My memory of him is that of a man who
had a cigarette in one hand and a scalpel
on the other hand, during the proceedings
he spoke to my mother about the weather
That was inclement, and the Labor Party
He and my mother were communists
For a long time, I had to take blood tests
which I didn't mind, his waiting room was
full of magazines and newspapers
There is nothing to read in waiting rooms
anymore, apparently, it is unhygienic
Not that it mattered, one has phones
The surgeon and his assistant spoke
pleasantly to each other about their work
at hand, I just happen to be there
After the operation, I was led into a room
to rest and dress, no, there was no kind
nurse serving tea
robot from planet Uranus speaks to the tiny creatures
they sit in growths from the earth, tidy like gobwaters on his planet
“take me to your leader,” the robot says
the tiny creatures giggle, sitting up straighter, glad to be recognized
but no one offers to take him anywhere
so he sits in the middle of these strange creatures, hoping to learn
they are frisky.
they like to frolic and dance and fly
they are really great at flying
He sends a missive to his boss.
They are tiny, like to fly and are fun to be with.
Sounds great, the boss agrees.
The inevitable
is always true
not determined by the hand of man
their plan prosper not
determined by the hand of God
A lie small or big stays a lie
corrected by the owner
for row
a sure result
Understand this truth
good and bad growths together
BALANCED
both determined by One
a lie a free will
and by free will also
be forgiven
Repent does not come after
the inevitable
and as said
only a few
will gain entry
So enjoy life for you know not
if you name be added
to a short list
enjoying life
probably the only hope
includes morality
striving for harmony
Who knows maybe a ticket
be granted to the many
However in truth only a few.
In respect to God
always said
the truth abovementioned
The Question then be raised
Although exists this truth
Which to all want whilst walking
prior
the inevitability harmony that's true
Best be in harmony
for after the inevitability all
may not.
Let us keep then the in mind
rather experience misery after
and in life joy.
Strive all then towards getting
a ticket
as you never know
No guarantee
I have a skin, brown tan melolin
Inside of me is water, energy
I have nodes from which buds are formed
I am shapeN like a football, a peanut, a fat lumpy carrot
I may develop sprouting, buds, green spots
I may be spoilage, not cause my parents giving me everything I ask
Interspersed in a tubular, vallecular
If for I am green growing out my sprouts
I am better off tossed out
Thrown away
What, Who am I
The one with many eyes, but no hands
Whom, am eye with eyes and spots
Inside me is water, starch and energy
Inside me ivory tan inside me
I am russet Burbank Shepody, Umatilla
What nation to I come from
What nationally am I
You see I am not human
But I human-to-see
I have many so love
the growing points so are potato tubers,
each with a little stem bud
the Red, White, Russet Oh’ how we love
begin to sprout, the growths those roots,
eyes, and bumps have a high
concentration of compounds see
I’m not human
I am a potato
Not all wounds are visible
My people has been wounded enough
Because they keep on holding on
To the old ways
Till now we suffer same things from the past
No wonder we keep suffering
Cos the people that are meant
To represent us
Are the main reason we became
Economic wounded
Resources wounded
Poverty wounded
Growths wounded
Morally wounded
I wonder what more inflation
That can be inflated on us
Cos we have seen 98 percent of pains
We are not scared of 2 more
Not all wounds are visible
Despite all hardship we pass through
We cover our pains with smiles
Despite all the troubles we face
We calm ourselves down with peace
We understand the importance
To maintain love among each other
Their is no other better way
If we don't support one another
We can together be a blessing
To the world
Or inflate pains on ourselves
And create wounds we can't heal so quickly
stag’s imagination ran wild in the best of ways by chance
tonight he dreamed of flora, fauna, faeries, and fragrance
lacy edged Luna moth hovered around the garden in his mind
verdant growths of lilies, vines, and flowers of every imagined kind
vision included a boy, girl, and happily ever after, nothing numbered.
stag dreamed on and on, visiting stag Nirvana as he slumbered.
Jake sleeps so deeply, nothing wakes him up said his worried mother.
he is astral traveling, whispered his more-aware spiritual brother.
This is about Lenny and Jenny,
Whose love had begun with no Penny
But Jenny's songs all about Lenny,
Thousands ready to swear 'uncanny',
Not excluded Miss Jenny's Granny,
Who had told Jenny about Danny,
His Gold in all the nooks and cranny:
"Leaving it for just Lenny Funny!"
"My Smarter Grand Daughter Tessy
Had her regular dumped for Messi"
In dollars wonderful; Lord have mercy "
Why would she care one thinks it messy?"
Then, Jenny Peters began to be sleek
And Lenny forgot she'd been meek...
Just like that stopped to her fond ears tweak,
On the two seen the havoc that Growths wreak
Just that he wouldn't the secret leak;
Only his love might keep growing weak...
The time to be happy is now
For the task unto which my pledge bow
Has given me enough motive
To be up to its crack; adaptive
Growing up effective means through
Its affirmative defenses view
How else would confirmation sign
The awaited supervised deadline
The place to be happy is here
Holding unto peaceful atmosphere
Studying promotes duality:
A setting of class formality
What call to duty checks often
To promote the upcoming Aaron
Before Moses free departure
To lead on others as an archer
The way to be happy is to
Make others happy ou of the blue
Providing clues to clueless mind
For none to go astray or grow blind
Like fools give up at ease on hope
Not sure if trying would help them cope
Off its impossibility
Worship inevitability
I have got a little heaven
Smart OYO-MESI in their seven
Overnight switching codes for peace
Disturbing minds' growths to be at ease
As joyfully as emotions
Running moving streams to form oceans
Unbearable cross then lightened
Amidst schedules for dream so tightened.
Fleshy stems
Pointed thorns
No leaves
Watery stems
Jelly-like
Abundant growths
Piled up like a statue
Prickly thorns
Weapons for the invaders
Flowers only emerge in old age
A stunt surprise
For men's ignorance
Who are a land king
But not a desert king
After a rainy night,
The sun rose shining bright.
Tree leaves coruscated,
And luxuriant turf covered the vale.
How sweet the grass so full of dew.
Birds left their nooks,
Twittering around the skies
How dazzling the vale
Reflecting a glorious sight.
A small rill tumbled down
The rugged hill tumbling over smooth pebbles.
Mossy growths sparkled
With ferns and silverweed now sprouted new.
The last leaves fall down.
But his inscape is not bare.
Myriads of wild growths,
he’s pruned with shears.
His pupils blossom in the
distant desert too. But the
wind brings not only the
floral fragrance He’s a
lightship on the sea of
ignorance. His scarlet
desires lie frozen beneath
the moral cliff. Age and
efficiency aren’t always
correlative.Yet it’s time
for his funeral in service.
His knowledge will no
longer be ignited in the
classroom.That brass bell
will ring in his memory.
Retirement is foreign in
origin, unbecoming for his
indigenous passion. Robert
Frost’s two roads appear
again. He will make
another wise choice. To
retire to rest is to rust.
Dedicated to the protagonist in the poem, Mr.Sachidanandan T K.
First published in The Literary Hatchet.
it will soon be evening
the fish will be cooked with the head and tail on
fried with ginger and lemon grass
on a black iron skillet
the head and tail of the large cod
will be given to the cat
the woman could eat both head and tail
they are the best parts of the fish
but she loves her cat
the cat consumes the fish head and the tail
then go out
to watch the birds until they disappear into the dusk
the woman eats the tender white fish
with lemon
a thick slice of new baked bread
and much salty butter
for her supper
the bones of the fish she plants in her small garden
to nourish the soil
soon the cat will smell the new green growths
and love her more
flowers will bloom under a fish-eyed sky
small birds are safe for another day
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