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Alan Douglas Poem
SENIORS OLYMPICS
Images of fearsomely fit youth everywhere,
healthy people, all bronzed, featured
by the second, on screens and public spaces :
fit and flash, but always young, Olympians.
I protest, for we seniors are just as sporty;
we recycle daily, suffer running noses;
fallen archery’s no problem at all - well, it is -
as we routinely wrestle with living.
Best not to even mention water sports.
Weightlifting self out of armchair is hourly,
when diving for the loo, as is rowing back
from much too easily expressed criticism.
We ping pong daily with potions and pills.
Sailing close to the wind, shooting mouth off,
leads to embarrassed synchronized grinning.
Annoy us and you will get a right kayaking.
Much of our lives consists of sundry hurdles;
shops are like a cross-country marathon,
or a steeplechase broken into relays,
bench to leaned-on wall, to bench again.
And, we’ve all done pent- and heptathlon,
with the dec- coming in to (or out of) focus,
we need not discus these ageist Olympics,
I have hammered my point enough ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
ACHTUNG, MES AMIS
The islands resolutely isolated from the shore
had atmosphere : they were redolent of an insolence
which betokened ‘Do come and get me, if you damn well dare.’
Its minor mountains, be amazed, look, of an eminence
protruding from deceptively calm waters past La Manche,
scant altitude, but attitude, enough to sink their fleets;
with birds whose complaints and laughter would fill the Sunday rags,
and tempt to silly invasions - all coupled with defeats.
Come, ask yourselves, oh Latin Ones, on what does this depend ?
You win with words, or food; pr’aps you’re not right, quite, for the fight ?
Ye Krauts, at our shores your ambitions flounder to their end,
perhaps it’s time that you give up, kowtow, and see the light ?
For friends, that’s what, deep down, we know you really, truly are,
of course we’ll squabble, we’re close, that goes without being said.
Just as long as you give us space - without the laws you need -
with you we will even break our white, sliced, and pre-packed bread ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
(Challenge words : island resolute isolated redolent
mountain amazed water birds laughter flounder)
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
YOU SAY TOM-AAA-TO
Never ever say sorry.
No matter how put,
a meagre sorry tastes
like yesterday’s curled sandwich,
obstinately irrelevant
to any serious discourse.
Instead, play for effect;
make your mark
with the equivalent
of a six course lunch,
a gourmet spread
of words, allusions
and classical reference;
then profusely apologise
with discipline and skill.
When sitting down
on completing this task,
you may append, quite silently,
the word *******, if American,
or the much more redolent British word
arsehole, even if American !
(Challenge words : sorry taste obstinate relevant serious play lunch gourmet apologise)
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
I know - I’m supposed to keep this secret
easy, by month one nothing’s visible yet
in month two damn sickness greets morn
and I’m wishing I’d never been born
by end of third deep serenity’s applied
and all appears to be settled inside
with the fourth my bump starts to show
and I wonder ... when will parents know
in the fifth my movements stop still
while the baby’s march up and down hill
come the sixth I rest both bodies a lot
and this secret’s become more of a plot
tell Mama - with her help I struggle from bed
for the joyous day that I am to be wed
in my seventh the secret’s quite clear
well, I'm married, so ignore “Dear oh dear”
greet the eighth with a football enhancing
boy or girl, baby’s into break dancing
meet the ninth with many a groan
when will this huge bubble be done ?
At start of tenth with a push, screams and shout
finally my best-kept and worst-kept secret is OUT
right now, I want all the wide world to know
football’s burst, and it’s ON with life’s show
bubble, champagne and hubby all Pop
though whacked, where I’m in the world is on top !
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
ABOUT TIME TOO
Create a universe with space,
and stars and suns, then planets.
Add some life and watch it grow;
almost nothing to almost something.
Implant a need to change, evolve,
until finally one arrives at sentience.
We now have human, which thinks,
therefore it is, but often chooses not to.
Our very human need brings order into,
and from surrounding chaos,
or so we imagine. Hence years, seconds
and so forth will codify time.
This time is *very *important;
brought in to rule over us all,
while some changes of time
are turned into veritable deities.
One grand god is to be worshipped
when he grants us his New Year,
for joy and wild celebration,
and sundry bacchanalian pursuits.
But, dammit, an invented construct
starts whether we're awake to scream
or not, so this one thinking human
prefers pursuit of non-bacchanalian sheep,
and sleep ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
GOOSE BUMPS
http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/the...ean/dtgeese.jpg
I'd thought I found eternal rest
cold hands folded, still, on my chest
but I hear echoes from the past
the trumpet's sound, fierce bugle blast
Coming alert, I look around
burst out laughing, see the sound
source - back to sleep with merry wave
at geese, goose-stepping on my grave ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
THE WILIEST BIRD
My hero is a wily bird,
so gutsy, he's thought quite absurd,
for when he's down and almost out,
he's up and fit for six more bouts.
He'll be blown up, he'll be blown down,
whatever, it is turned around
to energize another go;
through all adversity, he'll grow.
Ever onwards, never wilting
at Roadrunner ever tilting
like his hero, Don Quixote,
my hero, Wile E. Coyote !
Alan McAlpine Douglas
(in response to request to write about my hero)
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
INCONVENIENCE
Home :
Take one cube of gravy essence,
stir it fretfully, if I still dare,
into boiling, or at least hot-ish water;
such senior movements made with care
Care Home :
Drizzle ointments, yea, and potions
onto wrinkled tangerine skin
of arthritic hands, hips, knee-bones,
prey to crocked aches, and pains within
Hospital :
Please do ignore me gaily, while I toy
with food, well, pap, served up each day;
don’t tie me into bed, I’m already tied to head.
I pray, sometime soon that I’ll be on my way
Thereafter :
Finally to discard this worn-out old suit
trade incontinence for what seems the same,
but with new ability : to bawl up a storm,
and minor inconvenience - this fancy new name
Alan McAlpine Douglas
(Challenge words : cube gravy fret with drizzle tangerine prey arthritic toy tie)
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
ANOTHER PSYCHIATRIC SUCCESS
Man feels guilty, thus Man feels bad :
conscience halts “pleasures” to be had.
Psychs seek cure - Man must not feel bad,
with drugs remove what make him sad.
Good, lucky Man is free from guilt :
no shunning of what shouldn’t be built.
He’ll use base feelings such as hate
to revel in his psych-made state.
Oh happy Man, let it all hang out,
you’ve been ill-treated, there’s no doubt -
go get revenge, go get your gun,
go get plenty of psych-fuelled fun.
Go shoot kids in a blameless school,
they won’t ever call you a fool.
As shots hit home, watch them all run,
thanks to the psychs, Man’s having fun.
Now he’s the target ? ‘Why target me ?
I’m only on a guilt-free spree.’
Those bastards’ guns, they won’t kill him,
one shot to head, success, psych’s whim !
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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Alan Douglas Poem
THE DAY IN A LIFE
Please, lowly and so very hairy worm,
believe ! You must have faith, your luck will turn;
your somewhat desperate soon-to-be flutter
will cause provision - of bread and butter -
to a family's table very far away;
this thought really ought to be making your day !
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
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