Long Rang Poems
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The phone rang just past 5 this morning.
To myself, I asked, "Who must this be calling?"
In reply to my 'Hello', came a serious reply.
There was a strong male voice with a happy
greeting saying,
"My name is Christmas.
I have been sent to make serious requests.
I'm in search of the spirit of giving.
Listen well if to you God is speaking.
Missions of mercy await any who is willing.
Acts of kindness await any who is loving.
Be prepared to open your heart to someone knocking.
Listen to the hearts of those who are weeping.
Be mindful of someone on the streets walking.
Beware of someone on the sidewalk sleeping".
120823PS
London is bewildered by its roads
The Circular, the North,the South, the Codes
The Morse and the Enigma Turing broke
So now we have new bicycles with spokes
Once we had the A to Z in hand
Turn it upside down and you'll be grand
New technology has made great strides
Carrying us to Eden ,what a ride
The motorways are empty for tonight
God decided we had too much Light
He taught the bare cheeked Moon on Jesus' mount
To turn the other side when love's about
I liked to use a compass and a map
But now, my dear, most everything's on tap
I crouch beneath my sister as she drives
In the dark on the M 25
But if it's closed, we are completely foxed
We left the old Road Atlas in a box
Along with all my ex's underpants
And naturally his principles of Kant
We may be in Watford or in Bucks
I often wonder what will rhyme with luck
We may be near St Alban's, we can't see
The car ran up the trunk of this oak tree
We rang 999 and they are here
A fire engine filled up with Kentish beer
A ladder for the ladies to climb down
Now they are just women on the town
London won't exist ,destroyed by cars
God himself hates the North Circular
Many years ago, I visited a church. The Saint Osmund Church in London
In Barnes. Beautiful and imposing Catholic Home of God. Felt from the heart
Mass. This was an intimate afternoon. I have never been here before. Never
The believers waited silently for the voice of the bells. The calling voice rang out
Holy Mass had begun. The priest was an aristocratic character, an old man
Preaching was incredible. His thoughts soared, and his audience fell into a hypnotic state
This Mass left an eternal mark on my soul
This Mass burned into my soul. Forever
This Mass always accompanies me
This Mass always lives in me
It's an eternal inspiration
"I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Three Christian Churches here used to play
Their hymns rang out along the way
They took turns with their chimes each day
Never overlapped come what may
How I miss those sweet bells of old
They rang out through warm, hot and cold
Their songs of love, peace, joy were told
Before our world its soul to evil sold
Those hymns at Christmas time so dear
And carols ringing so strong and clear
On each street corner there was no fear
No illegal drugs around this small town here
Could this world normalize again
People spread out and grow some hens
Have some goats, ducks, and a weathervane
To go into town maybe catch a train
While 'pon that ride the bells ring out
Now that is what I'm talking about
Places where love can be planted and sprout
Those days can be good without a doubt
Timmy developed bad hay-fever
He saw the doctor for some tabs
No medication seem to work for him
He tried everything the pharmacy had
Another problem soon arose
For all and sundry to see
Each time Timmy sneezed
He would get a woody
His hay-fever now out of control
Sneezing constantly
His woody was up and down
Getting weary as can be
His woody stood to attention
In the most embarrassing places
The town folk were disgusted
Disapproval on their faces
The doctor rang Timmy to say,
Please come and see me
We have an amazing new medication
From your hay-ever you will be freed
A miraculous new antihistamine Timmy was prescribed
The outcome he could not believe
‘Miracles do happen’ Jimmy thought
No more hay-fever, no longer did he sneeze
The other issue was also resolved
Such a relief for dear Timmy
But now his willy was sound asleep
In a coma permanently!!
That cold morning in May
Budjiti
Slowly I walk
Between the dunes
That protected this
Tribe from the
Cold winds of
June
Forever an Dreaming
It held them tight
Their smiles once
Beaming on its sight
These dunes were
Comfort
Shelter
And safe
A place
On their ancestral
Journey along
The dry and dusty
Paroo
Then along came the
Ghost men
And there foreign ways
Happened upon them
On this cold morning
In May
There fire sticks
Rang out amongst
The screams and cries
They slaughtered this
Tribe that Dreaming had
Provide
One survived
Slowly I walk
Between these
White weathered
Old dreams of the
Budjiti
A mournful desert
Crow call
Heralds my presence
In these dunes
That didn't protect
This tribe
On that cold
Morning in May
Authors Note
I am honoured that the Budjiti people
trusted me to tell one of their stories.
I know that I haven't done it justice
I don't think anyone could.
The Occupiers
Outside, the only road in my village
a horde of carts pulled by skinny horses full of furniture and children
demanded access.
Our great grandfathers built this house we have
the right of return.
I contemplated giving them the shed but knowing they would
demand a larger part of the house, thought it best to resist
my thought of being kind.
The people outside were of Roman ancestry and had lived
in this area for hundreds of years and had been harassed wherever they went
It was time to take back the village and the right to defend ourselves
I rang the police, fifty officers came and disbursed the crowd
and a guard post erected at the entrance.
I normally have a liberal heart, but in this case, I had no empathy
by those who tried to make me homeless
As soft moonlight shone upon the maiden,
She pulled her dark hair away from her face.
With fresh flowers, her garden was laden,
And around her a nightingale did trace.
The bird then quickly vanished from her sight—
She regretted it having left too soon.
The strong wind led the bird on its high flight,
Over the water reflecting the moon.
Near the brook, it found some sticks it could use
To build a nest closer to her homestead.
The bird began flying back to its Muse,
Spreading its wings, from the water, it fled.
As the nightingale took time to linger,
The lovely maiden awoke with a yawn.
With the nightingale upon her finger,
Around her garden, she walked in the dawn.
As cathedral bells in the distance rang,
The nightingale on the maiden's hand sang.
The Darkness at Noon
Tombstone never looked so good
With doomsday coming down
On the dusty Arizona town
The OK Corral near by
The Clanton-McLaury gang on hand
With no one else about
The Earp boys in the wings
Thinking things out
Doc Holliday also in tow for the show
The darkness at noon began
Guns rang out
30 seconds flew by and 30 shots fired
2 cowpokes fell to the ground expired
Justice prevailed that afternoon
Though darkness shadowed the mood
A legend began that cold dark day
When noon turned into night
In old Tombstone
(Darkness at noon contest en
Goodness gracious me,
How can it be,
The ant leader
Posted that by decree,
I was a traitor,
And he
Would pass punishment
I could foresee
What was in store
Had to sit and steady my
Nerves with beer shandy.
It was a very hot day,
Thirty-eight degrees centigrade,
We were not by the sea,
But it was easy you see,
To keep cool
By the pool
Sitting on a high stool
With a beer shandy
In my hand,
Listening to the hotel’s
Resident band!
My phone rang,
It was my friend from Greece,
She was sending me a
Winter jacket made
Out of sheep fleece,
Oh don’t tease
Me please.
We talked for just
Under an hour
Said goodbye,
Went back to my beer shandy,
Life was just dandy.
But oh deary me the ants
Wanted to avenge
And take revenge
On me, as I picked up my
Glass of beer shandy,
Something seemed odd
I took a gulp from my glass,
And involuntarily forced
To expel the contents
From my mouth,
Hundreds of ants were floating
Dying, peeing, spitting
It was most distressing,
In my drink, I felt faint,
But practiced restraint,
Didn’t want the ants to
Know that I was dizzy
Even my hair was standing
On end and became frizzy
These industrious ants
Had set a trap
Determined to get back
At me for telling humans
About their plot to rule
Planet Earth, their leader Raoul
At the ready, creeping
And crawling
And nipping
Away at my flesh.
Doom spray I screamed
Please spray them all
Let them all die and fall,
I had to tell of their plan,
The world had to be prepared,
And their secret shared,
They began scurrying
And fleeing
From the spray, but muttering
Their real revenge was close,
They would be huge, and chew
Us up and spit us out, use
Us for fertilizing their gardens
And as for me,
I would be spat out constantly
And would regenerate daily,
So I was doomed,
They promised to keep
A wary eye on me,
Oh well perhaps I could emigrate
But they had this in mind,
Devious little monsters,
They would then immigrate
And join with other ants
From around the globe.
I would never be
Off the hook
For them I was a real
Baddie, a criminal, traitor
And crook,
Determined to expose
Theirs superpowers
To this planet,
And perhaps many others.