As though it was born free only to eat,
The soft caterpillar keeps on its work--
Just to turn and finish the leaves neat;
And on it goes unchanging,all in the lurk
Till begins the self centred walling in plot;
A soft, round globule comes up wrought
Only to be boiled and disrupted to fraught
The potter wasp has flights great many,
To the clay and water pits far and near
As is chosen the safe nook or slot puny
With all vigour, labour and concern dear,
The little bit sticks to the select spot fast,
That the set purpose resolves till the last,
And greed does not breed a monster ghast
Death seizing me one day, mourn me no more,
Let me leave this vain world free from all woes,
Let me go seasons as have from this shore,
And bid goodbye to my soul as it goes.
Quiet a leaf gets born, gets yellowed gray,
No reason why man be so noisiest--
Aloud when born one uneventful day…
Loud again when goes, what a grumbling guest!
And so if ye happen to read these lines,
Life-less when I lie to disintegrate,
Let me leave ‘pon this place no telltale signs,
Let all of my memories dissipate.
Fains if one so chooses to love my pen,
O love the labour of my love if can.
____________________
Sonnet | 12.11.2008 | death, love, memories, pen, poet
Note: This sonnet talks about how a poet wants to be remembered when he dies— like a passing season that goes, no fuss. If at all, love and remember ‘my poems’, more than me.
With half closed eyes and mind tending to flee,
Safe on the shore and seeking mundane ease,
Looking everywhere, scarce getting to see,
Today’s man hopes to enjoy still high seas.
In safety of shallow waters he swims,
Still, choicest of real pearls wishes to catch,
Mid-sea adventures whirling in his dreams,
He lacks the will to wait till oysters hatch.
Life’s not so simple like mobile's touch screen--
One click and pops up all the pre-set view,
A set scene gets re-relayed from within,
And yet, here too one must choose from menu.
Let sweat bids shed by thee be nigh salty,
The fruits of labour always feel tasty.
________________________ _____
Sonnet | 09.12.2017 | adventure, fruits, labour/work, life, reflections
If the majority of people have concerns about illegal immigration only for the government to call them racist,
And, that same majority of people turned around and openly declared themselves racist,
would the government in turn govern the country according to the populous opinion and fulfil its duty to the people, by running the country in line with the demands of the people, by doing whatever is necessary so as to deport illegal immigrants upon arrival thus easing the concerns of the majority who were forced to embody the racist narrative in order to become legitimised?
If so wouldn’t it make sense for the government to see illegal immigration concerns as just that, unlawful acts of migration, and deal with the problem so that the majority aren’t forced to embrace racism as a core belief?
You're never too old
to be young
at heart
even Freud was Jung
from the very start
altho' childbirth
is a labour of love
it's all in the swing
of things
and to about-face
child discipline
is strictly a case
of heir conditioning
Immigration.??? It comes over in waves.' There are those who are
Pro...Their enthusiasam gets quite wild.' Its all about the
Work that needs 'their skills' these days.' and then there are others that
See great ill.' Who counter claim.' On the need for so many'
And that, there are generational British with skills! that that do not
Have any.' Houses jobs also, they are cash restrained.' Meanwhile
The Hs 2 project is still not ready.! ( it is really a shame.!) Oxymoronica?
As taxes rise.! Five star meals served and no mp is denied! quaffing Champagne the very best.' Snifters of whisky oh
What will be next.? Yes it all well organised and nothings a crime..' no nightmares to deal with ( everything is working just fine! )
the gossip goes that the lad O'Shea
stands accused of mischief and horseplay
worse ~ caught righthanded at the town café
looking for a quick and easy payday
now he's laying low in some forsaken hideaway
waiting to make a swift getaway
trying his best to outrun judgment day
in his best friend's brand new Chevrolet
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Labour of hate
Turn on the heating
It’s getting cold
Why do we shiver?
Just because we’re old
It’s Kier’s labour, who wants us all to die
Said he liked pensioners just another lie
Another lie
Angels are calling
Is this the end
We are elderly
No family or friends
Can’t pay for heating or any of our bills
While Rayner’s cheating, fingering the tills
In the tills.
Reeves bills are paid for
But she’s a millionaire
Rayner is raving
She doesn’t care
Release the sausages, where is his brain
Paying a photographer, Rayner’s so vain
Is so vain
Take all our money
With inheritance tax
Charlie didn’t pay his
He can now relax
Rich becoming richer, Starmer leads the pack
Free clothes and glasses stabbed us in the back
In the back.
David Cox 13/12/24
The fox quakes with delight
Means testing winter fuel
what a future precedent
Already ditching the social care plan
They say they have a black spending hole
so spending must abate for a while
Tax your January private schools
and who else
They ride roughshod over the old
tax forms for the lot
They collect monies
you've never read about
like inheritance tax
Can anyone follow the news anymore?
during Euro 2024,
after the UK elections,
when I want to know the latest selections,
In Gareth Southgate’s team,
In Sir Keir Starmer’s team,
with everyone analysing, prophesying,
what this or that might mean.
Even if we heard those songs before,
all the pundits are oh so cock-sure,
everyone thinks they know the score,
the truth is nobody ever knows,
until that final whistle blows.
Everyone’s riding their luck, their chance,
pick up a history book, take a glance,
they never write any of them in advance.
That 2-1 defeat hurt, but it was no disgrace,
after all England, still claimed second place,
so I will congratulate Spain,
and celebrate how far our team came,
give our manager and players, respect that's due,
that's the least, that anyone can do.
The news from the US, just got even worse,
it's time that I returned to my verse,
or read the latest on Port Talbot steel,
then go back to following Labour's New Deal.
She was a country
bewildered by 14 years of decline
Bankrupted Councils
because of public cuts
now face council tax surcharges
The national NHS floundering
the beggars on the street overwhelming
A human face seemed to be bypassed
knife crime out of control
boat refugees thwarted
in hotels
Rwanda a breach of the ECHR
In the Mansion House
On a January day
The framework of the nation
And its future did lay
Deputy Johnson
Brought forth his brand-new assignment
If the Democratic Programme did pass
T’would alter our social alignment
Yet, Johnson and Labour
Were met with strict opposition
Economic democracy
Was not the Gaelic League’s mission
Instead, fix the language
And paint the letterbox green
To feed the bootless children
They were none too keen
A state of ‘freedom’ being
Rhetorical and flowerful
All that changed was
The colour of the flag
And the accents of the powerful
As she was working hardly
and saving some money.
some people could laugh
at her hard business
Which was bringing honey
on her table in her entire life.
She knew the colour of money
and she could respect it daily.
Yea if a man labours in pain
If not in the Lord, he labours in vain
But whatever a man finds to do
Be he even unto his master and to God be true
Even in his ministry to God above
Let it be cheerfully a sincere labour of love
For Christ laboured even to wash feet
And Paul condemned he that labours not to not eat
And ye are called into heights above the surface
In unity and maturity towards works of service
For even faith without works is dead
For by a working Master we are led
We are called for such a time as this
For works prepared aforetime and with apportioned grace
The will and the ability also built in us
That our days be spent in the pleasure of bearing the onus
For the awaiting judgment will weigh the deeds
A presentation of harvest, not of unsown seeds
HAPPY LABOUR DAY
Fruits of Labour
Sometimes I dream
Of where I’d like to be:
Far away from nitty-gritty chores,
Enjoying the fruits of my labour.
Happy and nonchalant,
Swaying in my hammock,
Sun tanning, and feeling the ocean breeze
Gently sweeping over me.
On a shore of golden sand
On a South Pacific island,
“Que ce soit ma maison”
(and let this be my home),
My island paradisium,
Distanced from criticism
On the beaches of Tahiti1
With a tiare2 behind my ear.
***
Notes:
1 “Tahiti” (Rising Sun) is the largest island in French Polynesia, and its capital is Papeete.
2 The “Tiare” is Tahiti’s national flower. A tiare behind the right ear signals single and available, while a tiare behind the left ear indicates married or dating.
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