[John Whitworth]

Jerome, that might be too good. Brian, that is inspirationally ghastly.

[Alana A. Roberts]

How's this?

Oh Give Me But Love

Oh give me but love -
You can have all the rest.
Take money, take mansions,
I’VE got the best.

I can live without income
I can live without hope
With your love inside me
I can live without DOPE

Although, with the dope
It would be even hotter;
We could live with our love
And no CLOTHES, FOOD or WATER

And though we might not
Live as long as the queen
Its as she at the end
I’ll as HAPPY have been.

[Roger Slater]

Lionhearted

The lion asked his mother why
The stars, the sun, the moon, the sky,
Existed, and she said, "For you!
The Universe is yours. It's true.
The Universe that poets sing of
Is but the jungle you are king of."

Are all of us not lions then?
Is not the Universe our den?
Do I not hold within my paw
The pen to write my own life's law?
And do I not in every growl
Roar forth more wisdom than an owl?

Although I lack both fur and mane,
No less than lions do I reign.
Were you too born a lion cub?
Rise up, I say, and join the club!

[Roger Slater]

Don't Be a Turtle!

You're wonderful. You're glorious.
You're talented as well.
But do not be a turtle who
is hidden in his shell

and even when he shows his face
and lets his feet pop out
stays mostly in his carapace
and slowly moves about

thinking he is daring, brave,
and therefore cannot fail
because at least he's moving faster
than the sluggish snail.

So shed your stiff integument
and leave your narrow coop
unless you aim to wind up as
a bowl of turtle soup.

[Brian Allgar]

Thank you, John. I had trouble keeping my lunch down while writing it, which must be a good sign.

[Lance Levens]

The Jock's Version
(Seen on the gym walls)

Stick it to 'em buddy! You are the stud!
Rock 'em and knock 'em and sock'em in the mud.
Your body's stroked and bored like steel.
Ennis the Menace? Listen to her squeal
as you go strutting round the track.
The power, the sheer power in your back

could lift the Euro to a decent height.
Oil up your limbs, so the silver light
will love on your thighs, your whole torso.
Think Brad Pitt-ish, only moreso.
They just don't make 'em like you anymore.
You're an Atlas, shouldering every shore

from Khartoum to Nice to New York to Bali.
You're a god and every poor sod says "Golly!"
when you spare a word or let him kiss your ring.
You're le roi, der Konig, the ever-fabled king.

[Lance Levens]

Feel like I robbed the candy store and me old mom made me eat every bit.

[Roger Slater]

From a "bad poem contest" a few years back:


LOVE, I SAY

Love, I say, is like a flame,
but when hate's water splashes,
love keeps burning just the same
and does not turn to ashes.

Love, I say, is like a knife,
but there's no need to hone it.
It will last throughout your life,
if that's how long you own it.

Love, I say, is like a stone,
but softer than a feather.
It's hard to lift love all alone
but not that hard hard together.

[John Whitworth]

No, no, Roger. That's not bad at all. Try harder feller. Do worse. Hone up your Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Polish your Patience Strong. We want that Shadwell sound.

Others to some faint meaning make pretence.
But Shadwell never deviates into sense.

[Jerome Betts]

Lessons are where you find them



“Translate into Japanese: . . . Cats die in water . . . Snowy days are cold. “ - Teach Yourself Japanese (EUP 1958) by C.J. Dunn and S.Yanada, pps 22 & 32, exs 5 & 11, nos 12 & 11.


Listen, little daughter,
To these words of gold.
Cats die in water,
Snowy days are cold.

Worth their weight in dollars
Yanada and Dunn
Teach your fellow-scholars
Wisdom dearly won.

Always wear your mittens,
When the weather’s cool;
Never let the kittens
Go too near the pool.

Oh, as days grow shorter,
Remember you’ve been told
Cats die in water,
Snowy days are cold.