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Best Poems Written by Paula Puddephatt

Below are the all-time best Paula Puddephatt poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Duck Haiku

floating undisturbed,

upon the tranquil waters:

bread, declined by ducks

Details | Paula Puddephatt Poem

Quakers On Pacifism

It is not “P. C.” to be anti-war,

Or to refuse to stuff one’s face with meat.

Quakers are not pacifists anymore

 

By definition.  It’s not like before.

These things are individual.  We can cheat.

It is not “P. C.” to be anti-war.

 

We cannot break an invisible law.

We rubbed it out, you see.  I should repeat:

Quakers are not pacifists anymore.

 

Some are.  Some aren’t.  There’s nothing we stand for.

We can have bacon, toast or Shredded Wheat.

It is not “P. C.” to be anti-war – 

 

To be vegetarian, vegan or

In any way, restrict what one may eat.

Quakers are not pacifists anymore.

 

This, Friends, is the conclusion we must draw – 

Won’t vote on this; we might just face defeat:

It is not “P. C.” to be anti-war.

Quakers are not pacifists anymore.

Details | Paula Puddephatt Poem

Not In God's Name

Protestant, Catholic, Mormon, Jew – 

I understand your point of view.

If you can’t mine – well, that’s a shame.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

 

Islam means “peace”.  We all want that.

Meet the Quakers.  Be friends and chat.

Buddhist, Hindu – we’re all the same.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

 

Jehovah’s Witness to a Sikh:

Sisters and brothers, let us speak.

It’s not a case of placing blame.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

 

“An ye harm none, do as ye will.”

The Wiccan Rede, we must fulfill.

Let peace on Earth become our aim.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

Details | Paula Puddephatt Poem

Knock, Knock

We are not from Scottish Power,

or even British Gas.

We wouldn’t drag you

out of the shower

for anything less than

God.  And just to let you know 

how to achieve Eternal Life…

 

We are nothing like

the religious group

who called on you last night.

There is one major difference:

They are wrong, and we are right.

 

Certain substances must be avoided

like heroin and cups of tea.

Is it worthwhile mainlining – 

or enjoying Typhoo or PG – 

if, because of that, you cannot live

with God eternally?

 

You can stuff your face with chocolate, crisps – 

and Diet Coke is not outlawed.

You can even have some Red Bull

to wash down all that chocolate,

if you’re getting very bored.

 

You need to be baptised, and soon.

Your last one doesn’t count:

insufficient water, and you were too young.

What about the Baptist Church?

You’re being awkward now.

Okay, let’s cut straight to the chase.

No other church has authority 

from God.  We do.

Details | Paula Puddephatt Poem

Lime Trees

Summers consist of

peridot mornings,

and emerald afternoons.

The trees filter the sunlight - 

so often saving me from

those headaches, which might have

mutated, evolved into migraines.

 

By autumn, the leaves have changed colour:

a poet's palette of

amber, copper,

gold, and red.

 

In winter, the trees are slender,

with a stark, grey-brown beauty:

looking fragile,

yet able to endure

the harsh frosts of the season.

 

And, throughout the seasons,

"they" plot.

They want

a concrete Universe - 

so they mark out their potential

victims, with orange spots.

 

The letters to local residents are headed:

"Implementation of

Environmental Improvements".

 

Yet, trees can bleed.

Scenes of carnage seal the deal.

They win; we lose.

So much wildlife, instantly evicted.

 

Fluorescent yellow workmen circle tree stumps,

inspecting their day's work - 

before going for "a pint",

and home for tea.

 

Spring is cancelled.

Details | Paula Puddephatt Poem

What They Don'T See

I'm not as cold
as I can come across
you know
I kinda
learned these
unemotional responses
out of necessity
the need to survive
block it out
or you break down
my final defence
don't think
don't feel
pretend you're okay
not that bothered either way
so I let the world see 
me as cold
and later
in the silent
sanctuary of solitude
maybe stabbed by a line
in a song or poem - 
then
I break down

Details | Paula Puddephatt Poem

Spiritual Peace

I find my place of spiritual peace

Again, just when I feel I never will.

There is a sense of freedom and release.

I can’t know all the answers, but am still

 

In touch with The Divine, and that is real.

We’re all connected.  Life is precious, and

Life doesn’t end with death.  Sometimes we feel

A presence, and we come to understand

 

That nobody who’s ever been has gone.

The spirits of those who we’ve loved remain.

They will protect us – help us to go on.

There is almost a beauty in the pain.

 

Although sometimes I find it hard to trust,

Truth’s constant.  Feel the patterns in the rust.