Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride
to juicy jukebox jabbering
in jackal jackboots
from nearby jungle
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating
jambalaya to justify a
juggled juxtapositional
jurisdiction jamming
as jugular vein jingled jewels
joyfully jauntily jaywalking
to a jay named Jim Jolly !
Onward he jumped to a
Jungian junction
Jupiter jocund watching his
journeying joints
journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit
or jeweller jiggled this job
So he jerked his jess
like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the
next jangle of jasmine
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin
though sometimes Mr Hyde
with jeroboam swirling alongside !
I like writing poetry,
I like making jewellery to.
I try to make my designs quite bold,
I try to use silver or gold.
I cut and I file,
And all of the while,
I make sure the gold dust is collected in one big pile.
When I have collected a lot,
I heat it, so it is extremely hot.
Then when it's ready to pour,
I am able to make more,
Of the most beautiful jewellery,
Better than anything that you ever saw.
Fashion house store, jeweller
Bistro, awned tasteful -
Spin out each of your light's
Burnt orange, tactful
This chill eve's way, waist-wrapped
Mists two, affianced.
For this one fine purpose;
Conspicuous doth
Show up, honours a love.
Soft, warm, now enhanced.
I want you to meet my mum
Oh no, not the mum
That means I could be the one
There goes the fun
Time for a ring
That couple thing
Need a plan
Insanity is in the man
Hun, I’m slightly gay
It’s always been that way
I try to hide it
But it just won't go away
I know babe
That’s what I love about you
You’re feminine too
Man, what have I done
Where do I run
Okay, plan two
Hun, think of the kids
What would they think
Daddy wearing a dress
Their little faces
Such a mess
Don’t worry babe
Take my hand
Let me introduce you
This is my mum
My god, what a body
So fit
Where’s that jeweller
Book the church
I’ll marry her mum
And then some
I’m in love
Babe, don’t get carried away
There's something I have to say
It’s about my mum
Hun, tell me all
Write it, ten feet on the wall
Watch me fall
Babe, my mum’s my dad
Aren't you glad
You being that way too
So understanding
It was like God sent you
Okay, I've kind of went numb
Something just registered
Call me dumb
But It seems to me
Or maybe I’m slow
Have I just joined a feckin freak show.
A draftsman called Tom bought a ruler
He gave it to colleague Talulah
Astounded to find
She paid him in kind
And what he needs now is a jeweller
LUCKY MAY
May, May is welcome
And by these roads, these lanes
Young people come to home
To sing to my sisters.
What pretty they are
With her golden hair
And coloured lassos
And my mother combing them
To disentangle it.
That is their faces
What face so bright¡
Their lips, what loveliness¡
Painted with lipsticks
Where the same Cupid
A Kiss plant.
Their eyes, waht pretty and lovely¡
As star lighting the same Sky.
Their snub noses
(I wish I could to have them¡)
Silver twists are
That none of the jeweller
Knows draw
Only mother Daniela
As their ivory teeth
And their two little bust
Behind their white blouses
As two early lemons
With a dress of virgin
With brads in its shorts
Straight to the point
Axle of dancing and music
Moving their nice legs
And their agile feet.
And Me, now, an injured angel
With all my features as seraph
Imploring to our mother
That she plays a May with me
Dressing me as my sisters
With Rosemary flowers
With legominous flowers
Puting in my hand
A palm of Sun and Moon
As my lovely sisters
Because I want to dress as a little girl
And don’t want to be more
The Little man of the home
In the Lucky May.
LUCKY MAY
May, May is welcome
And by these roads, these lanes
Young people come to home
To sing to my sisters.
What pretty they are
With her golden hair
And coloured lassos
And my mother combing them
To disentangle it.
That is their faces
What face so bright¡
Their lips, what loveliness¡
Painted with lipsticks
Where the same Cupid
A Kiss plant.
Their eyes, waht pretty and lovely¡
As star lighting the same Sky.
Their snub noses
(I wish I could to have them¡)
Silver twists are
That none of the jeweller
Knows draw
Only mother Daniela
As their ivory teeth
And their two little bust
Behind their white blouses
As two early lemons
With a dress of virgin
With brads in its shorts
Straight to the point
Axle of dancing and music
Moving their nice legs
And their agile feet.
And Me, now, an injured angel
With all my features as seraph
Imploring to our mother
That she plays a May with me
Dressing me as my sisters
With Rosemary flowers
With legominous flowers
Puting in my hand
A palm of Sun and Moon
As my lovely sisters
Because I want to dress as a little girl
And don’t want to be more
The Little man of the home
In the Lucky May.
Stunning purple full of beauty and grace
I still can’t wipe the smile from my face
Today I purchased an amethyst ring
It is very subtle not full of bling
You saw on my face the joy it will bring
You re-sized it for me so it would fit
I would have paid extra but you wouldn’t hear of it
You gave me a discount and then you did say
Could I clean your sapphire ring for you today?
So now I have two shiny rings one old and one new
But when I wear them I will always think of you
I am sending this poem to the Jeweller in Haworth Yorkshire – he truly made my
day with his kindness
Jan Allison
5th August 2014
my dirty little stones in a pouch
received in a hotel one night
slid them under my pillow
dreamt sweetly
opened the pouch in the morning after breakfast
saw dirty little stones
wondered what they could be
went to smith the jeweller
sat on the couch as i waited for him to wash them
came to me holding something glittery
it was diamonds
i jumped up and down
told him he could sell them on a black market
take his share
i locked them in my safe at home
would you like to hear more
before i do that
i have to go and testify at the hague
diamonds are forever and you too should have them
Tears bring the eyes its shivering spangle of stars
In liquid pools dilating light
The firmament spiraled to bandage time’s scars
Shining in empty bowls night
And sometimes the common carbon of the air
In soul deep fires like butterflies
Becomes the diamonds from our despair
Uncut by innocence to prudent eyes.
And you from your shining White House saw
The fluid dreams of frigid seasons
Bent to touch us, and in your warmth to thaw
The icy conducts of pride’s false reasons
We had only eyes to tell the luster of our glee
Muted with wonder at your love
Bridging the callous constellations of history
To dent the songless cages for each dove
How shall we thank you for feathering our dreams
To vault the pole-less blue of sky
Dear First Lady, the joy that in us stuttering gleams
Make us the jewels of your eye
You bring us hope, you shining tiara of the sultry past
You jeweller setting us to shine
Against rabid scorn of white winters' withering blast
No cheap rubble again, the stones you leave behind.
Seeing through the red filter
the sun reflecting on his
iris....
Viewing details through a
magnifying glass...
A microscope..
A jeweler forges his metal
Sets his stone.
Paying attention to detail
he etches every little hair,
every little speck.
Observing nature's moods,
shifts,changes,he records+
draws in his journal his
discoveries for this new
Season.