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Best Poems Written by Jerrold Prothero

Below are the all-time best Jerrold Prothero poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The River of Life - POTD

As every drop hath magic of its own,
And yet within a river finds its whole,
So are our lives of merit all alone,
And yet a facet in a greater soul.
Or as a shard of light that shines in spring,
Within the fabric of the dazzling day;
We are like notes with which a choir can sing,
But having sung, like notes, we fade away.
Strange thing our moment’s glory is not long,
Is but a passing glance within the all;
So great the wealth of beauty flowing strong,
It little cares that you and I shall fall.
As when at last the final ember’s gone,
A bird is lost, and yet the flock flies on.

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Sorrow's Children

Persephone, as sorrow and as grief,
The world and all its tales are told in brief.
The mirth of all the ages comes to this:
A sunlit sorrow and a broken bliss.
The laws of sorrow rule the lives of men!
And we are different words within that line,
That may, together, solve its mysteries when
Arranged within a harmony divine.
And therefore, sorrow’s children are we all,
And we, like tears, together stay or fall.
Beyond our reach are we, what e’er we clutch.
We are not who we are, but who we touch.
There is no realm where sorrow doth not go!
Nor shall it be a stranger to thy soul.
So make it thy companion, not thy foe.
With sorrow and compassion, both be full.
Then wear thy grief, but wear thy grace as well,
And walk no more the Plains of Asphodel.
Leaven lands thou left, light love, light ladies!
Persephone, thy spring is not for Hades.

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The Goblin Was Wobblin’ Along

The goblin was wobblin’ along,
Tipsy and singing a song.
It’s hard to cause fright,
When sober not quite,
He hadn’t the heart to do wrong.

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When Gods Immortal War

What shall it mean, when gods immortal war?
No guns shall fire, no cannons shall they roar.
And yet, the Earth itself partakes of horror.
The rhythms of the Earth shall make no tune,
Asunder shall its structures fall to ruin,
Unleashed, shall chaos crawl upon us soon.
We must of needs be greater than our fears,
More strong than what adversity appears.

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The Pi That’s of Math Has Its Day

The pi that’s of math has its day,
But that of the baker, no way.
Though both are quite round,
Less merit is found,
In pies that in stomachs do lay.

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The Future

And if there is a future,
It cannot be the past,
For music could not nurture,
If every note must last.

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A Man of Kaleidoscope Eye

A man of kaleidoscope eye
Devoured all manner of pie.
Apple to rhubarb,
Crusty with full carb,
The pie in his eye made it fly.

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The Quest of Life

The quest of life, it is no certain thing,
No circumstance assurance brings of bliss.
So many thoughts, so very few take wing;
The hit or miss is measured more by miss.
Shall happiness take hold when we gain gold?
The heaping up of stuff shows little worth.
The misery of wealth is too well told;
Tranquility is not composed of earth.
Does then it lie in that we wish to do,
The voyages of life in deed and thought?
But, O, the tedium of all that's new!
It's not upon the breeze that calm is brought.
The joy of life is not a thing we find,
It is a choice we make within the mind.

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Dionysus Opens the Feast

In rare gustation dine we here tonight!
For you, my feast; for me, your pleasant sight!
And for them both, I raise my glass to cheer:
Let all that’s sober end before the year!
Let music, wine and wantonness prevail!
Let revelry erase the dry and stale!
And light your mortal youth that burns so strong,
For I, the God of Wine, who’s lived too long.
And when my followers stand - or rather, sprawl -
Across the landscape, shall the dreary fall!
And when my wine the final frown shall lift,
Then sprawled amidst the rest, I’ll share the gift!

Let wine make us wise, and feasting for all!
Till morning shall rise, or each of us fall!

Evil sobriety! It shall not last the night!
For I have found munitions, ample for the fight!

The vine divine, from whence the grapes of wine!
I tend its thirsts, and it doth water mine!

The beasties of the Earth and air,
I do invite to be my fare!

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Barstool Melody

Considering himself quite the thing,
He thought from his barstool to sing.
But others thought not,
The praise that he got
Was less than a crow choir could bring.