[Janice D. Soderling]

Count me in.

[Steve Bucknell]

Thanks to all. I know there is a growing chorus of support for the idea of a further collection of poems from Richard. There is more detective work to do to bring together Richard's scattered oeuvre, but I will keep you informed!

In the meantime, Richard should have the last words. This is a poem from his idiosyncratic, self-published Me and the Holy Spirit from 1998, an account of his beliefs/reflections on religion, science and spirituality.

Tailpiece: A Picture of Life

Life is a picture in a frame of mind.
Whatever was right before is left behind.
From flaming east it wears a fancy west,
And after many a bust the bier is best.

Sweet are the uses of diversity;
The universe is but a university
Wherin we strut awhile and fret and fume
Before immortal Clancy lowers the boom.

Drink in this battered caravanserai
Where many a Caesar tumbled in the hay
And summer songs for all that look askance
Make merry mock of pomp and circumstance.

The soul that stumbled through the crack of dawn
Has duly turned into a pickled prawn,
And in this wobbling world we wander in
It is a shame there shall be no more sin.

Ho ho, my friends, and all my foes, ha ha!
The gods are wi’ ye and the deil’s awa.
For peace of mind is like a piece of toast
That shall go with thee whithersoever, thou ghost.

We shall not look again upon old Ike
Or silent stand upon the peak of Pike
Seeking eternally with wild surmise
For summer pudding or for Christmas pies.

There is, tied into the affairs of men,
A knot that comes unknotted now and then;
And if the gods permit themselves to smile
It may remain unknotted for a while.

Now is the time, when all the knots come loose,
To linger longer in the old caboose
And watch the sun go down and light the stars
Which sometimes shine more brightly through the bars.

There is a time, in this encircling void,
When Freude is more fortunate than Freud;
And in this life, exempt from public haunts,
We hear the lark that tirra-lirra chaunts.

Be of good comfort, for the light once lit
May shine when life has long extinguished it
And, being a kind of lingering reflection,
Prove the sole evidence of resurrection.

There was a caveman, few and far away,
Painted a bison, using coloured clay;
Which is indeed much more than you or I can
Who cannot even paint as much as toucan.

I do not know that my Redeemer liveth,
But if he doth, I know that he forgiveth.
And if we see him in the flesh, though darkly,
We’ll be at least as wise as Bishop Berkeley.

The sword is in the stone, or in the tree,
And only kings or heroes drag it free;
But in the end it does no good at all,
Since both the kingdom and Valhalla fall.

Likewise in Fontarabbia, when Charlemain
With all his peerage fell; and Charles’s Wain
Goes round and round with not an end in view.
This is no sort of life for me and you.

So come with Percival, and leave the lot
Of Charlemain and Charles’s Wain forgot.
We may go round and round, and for a song,
But not for ever, or for half as long.

Up from the Circle, up through Palace Gate,
We came to Albert, mouldering in state;
And many knots we do not quite unravel,
Nor many more, however far we travel.

There was a king in Thule, who announced
-But none knew how his name should be pronounced;
So none knows how he ruled, or grasped the helm
In his remote and disagreeable realm.

So let us, in our failure and obscurity,
Enjoy our life in moderate impurity.
I have a fancy it may soon be dark,
So I must go and potter round the park.

[Allen Tice]

If the total number of contents were, at a minimum, twice the number of those in "The Idle Demon." I think I'd go for it. Even more would be better.

[Joel Cahill]

Hi Steve and everyone else,

I'm new to this forum and recently joined to let you all know about a project I've just started.

I am Jill Lister's son in law (now Jill doctor). Jill is Richards niece. Following the funeral Jill and her sister Judy, who resides in Edinburgh, were overwhelmed with the quantity of art and poetry that they now have. So we had an idea to put it all online for the world to enjoy.

http://www.rplister.com

Please feel free to have a look around. If you would like updates there's a "subscribe" box on sidebar.

Finally, if you've got anything you'd like to contribute or even if you'd gave an idea for the site I'd love to hear from you. Please feel free to reply here, PM me or email me personally on joelcahill@gmail.com

[Julie Steiner]

Wonderful! Thank you, Joel.

[Allen Tice]

Lister wrote a number of parodies of T S Eliot, and not all of them are immediately obvious. One, that in other hands might have been cruel, is not.

[Ann Drysdale]

Great news, Joel. You have a lot of supporters here who are grateful for your enterprise.

[Steve Bucknell]

Thanks Joel (and thanks Janice for alerting me!) I will be in touch. On quick first look it appears to be a fascinating archive and celebration of Richard's work and spirit.

[Janice D. Soderling]

Thanks, Joel. A fine site and a wonderful way to keep his work available for new readers--and old fans too, of course.