WI Extravagant, Class, Fall From Grace

Many of us come from relatively humble backgrounds,
and I guess we can all look back and laugh at ‘harder times’,
as we remember when even the basic, simple pleasures, seemed EXTRAVAGENT.

WHEELS

It was built for neither speed nor comfort
But all I could afford back in the day
Was something to get us from A to B
That we could jump aboard without delay
The main thing; it was perfect just for two
My choice of transport was hardly random
A classic; built by master craftsmen
Ok, so what if it was a tandem?


So, where are we now? Has our social status improved?
Or are we worse off than before?
Of course some are born into a life of self-sufficiency.
‘The Good Life’? Or abject poverty?

RICE

Harvest time in Isan
Means labour; sweat and pain
Gathering food for another year
That Holy, precious grain

Rice! Glutinous and sticky
Is what it’s all about
We’re off, down to the farm now
It’s time to check it out

The heat is so oppressive
One hundred in the shade
A flash of light that dazzles you
Is just the sickle blade

But it’s money in your pocket
And worth it, in a way,
For ten hours work, not riches,
Two hundred Baht a day

That’s just three Pounds, in English.
Would you get out of bed
For even that, an hour
Or stay asleep instead?

I don’t think so, but here
It’s an honest daily rate
Food and drink included
You go home feeling great!

And when it’s all been gathered
It’s time to sort it out
The rice from chaff; and bag it
Two hundred sacks, about

That’s sixteen sacks a month, though
Much more than we can eat
We’ll sell a hundred sacks, or more
This year we’ll have a treat

And when we get the rice home
We can use it, straight away
Fresh grown rice for breakfast
Lunch, tea, dinner, every day!

Boiled, steamed, or sticky
Cook it how you wish
But in Isan, we’re not fussy
So it’s STICKY every dish!


And what if the ‘unthinkable’ happens? Would we cope without
some of the EXTRAVAGANCES our concept of
CLASS and its 'advantages' provide?
How would we react to such a FALL FROM GRACE?

A LIFE OF CONVENIENCE

What happens when all the good food runs out?
When the supermarkets don’t open late?
Will they expect us to just do without?
To take the last resort and seal our fate?
What happens when they shut their doors for good?
Or bad, more like. What do people do then?
The village stores are just not big enough
To cope with the demands of hungry men
There’ll be no choice; we’ll have to live on bread
And water, just like prisoners in jail
But our jail is the world that we have made
We’ll have to put our houses up for sale
Because we won’t be fit to go to work;
Toiling on empty stomachs doesn’t pay.
Are we not men? How come nobody knows?
Where does all the food come from anyway?

Take a look around you and you will see
Many people, not as well-off as you
People who have never known it better
People from countries, not so well-to-do
You never stop to think how they survive
No work, no money; nowhere to call home
How do you think those people stay alive?
Do as the Roman’s do, when you’re in Rome
Do you think that food doesn’t grow on trees?
Swim in rivers and crawl along the ground?
Go out fishing; keep your own birds and bees
That’s what they do; their world still spins around
Survival of the fittest may not be
A ‘cool’ concept for modern-thinking men
But you must know, that when ‘push’ comes to ‘shove’
You’re just like Daniel in the lion’s den
Except, of course, you have to stand and fight
The first time in your life; are you prepared?
Or will you just surrender to the beast?
You should have known; you should have really cared

This life of convenience makes us all
Expect we can get anything at all
When we want; on twenty four-seven call
Let’s see what happens when the dark skies fall.

TOP Absent friends

YOU’LL LIVE FOREVER, IN MY HEART AND MIND

Cast your spell, and conjure up your presence
We’ll walk together, hand in hand, again
Holding tightly, savouring the moment
You’ll touch my heart, and smile your perfect smile
A tree-lined avenue, springtime blossoms
Pinks to deepest crimson; glistening jewels
Reflecting shafts of evening’s golden glow
Pale, by comparison to one so fair
Aromatic, your favourite perfume
Drifts to the rhythm of a silent breeze
Surfing the senses, in wave after wave
Until we reach the point of no return
Compelled to walk away, by force unknown
The scene rotates, but part of you remains
The Earth emits a mournful, haunting sigh
So final…so profound…the saddest thing
Yet beautiful; a fitting, fond farewell
In recognition of your life of love
Echoing, and ever more intensely
In moments of despair, sadness, or fear
Calling out to me, offering succour
Reaching, drawing me into your bosom
‘There, there’, you whisper; comfort to your child
Your magic never really went away

TOP Triolet

Thoughts on getting old(er), including TOP prompt - Triolet

TRIOLET – TIME

I’m thinking about Time
And how it takes its toll
On our bodies and minds
I’m thinking…about time
I started to prepare
For when Time is no more
I’m thinking. About time!
Better late than never


DENIAL

Do I really remember the Sixties?
Seventies? As well as Eighties, Nineties
Or is it only imagination?
Events just my playful, youthful mind sees?

Do I really remember The Beatles?
Monochrome TV and the days before
DVD, Internet, or Mobile Phone
There’s just NO WAY I can be forty four!

I refuse to believe I’m so ancient
Therefore those memories of times gone by
Mere visions of a fictional era
As seen through the gleam in my father’s eye.


NO FUTURE

The future ended a long, long time ago
How do I know…? I was there!
But guess what? You were also there, beside me
It was more than I could bear

Right now, in this stationary, timeless void
It’s always late November
Endless winter – mocking spring’s broken promise
Taunting us to remember
Now, there’s only the past to look forward to
Ah! The past!…Oh! I can’t wait!
A time of promise and great expectation
A time to anticipate
We will have cause to predict prosperity
We will always get it right
We will think of our other, before our self
Why should we have cause to fight?

All those careful plans, we’ll make for tomorrow
We will feast upon the crumbs!
…Asphyxiated by irony…we’ll know
Why tomorrow never comes.

Silver Linings

Cosmopolitan Utopia

Beneath the ice of Antarctica
Lies earth; dry land, not just sea
It won’t be long before Climate Change
Reveals its mystery

People from all around the world
Will form queues to catch first sight
And marvel as they gaze upon
Its wonder and delight

In time, it will be colonised
A new nation will emerge
A phoenix rising from the ashes
Of industry’s thoughtless purge

Cosmopolitania
Is how it will be known
A land of opportunity
A no-hate, greed-free zone

Speaking in their own languages
All will be understood
By everyone who inhabits
This sharing neighbourhood

It’s the perfect environment
For those who accept changes
Old-fashioned, old-world attitudes
Will fade from their exchanges

It won’t matter which words they use
Visitors here will find
Translation useless; all will speak
The tongues of all mankind

All gates will be drawn wide-open
Barriers will be lifted
Linguistic skills, no longer
The sole domain of the gifted

Genuine friendship, open arms
Will greet the new arrival
Gone, the frustrating thoughts of how
To guarantee survival

In words that they can understand
Best wishes will be proclaimed
In time, they’ll learn to repeat these words
Once intolerance is tamed

There’s no need for Esperanto
Like Latin, that’s obsolete
Adjustment of their perception
Will help to achieve the feat

Initiation completed
Languages will flow
From the lips of all new-comers
Letting everybody know

English
“Greetings! Welcome to your new home
The land that grants you freedom
Where everybody lives their life
In perfect harmony”

Polish/Polski
“Powitaninia! Powitanie do waszego nowego domowego
Ziemia która przyznaje wam wolność
Gdzie wszyscy żyje ich życie
W doskonałej harmonii”

French/ Francais
“Salutations! Bienvenue dans votre nouveau domicile La terre qui vous donne la liberté Où tout le monde vit leur vie
En harmonie parfaite”

Thai/ไทย
“Karn tak tai! Yindee ton lab su barn mai khong kuhn
Tee din khong kharn anuyart nan hai kuhn khwarm pen isala
Tee serng tuk khon mi sheewit sheewit khong kaotanglai
Nai khwarm khlom klern sombun”

“การทักทาย! ยินดีต้อนรับสู่บ้านใหม่ของคุณ
ที่ดินของการอนุญาตนั้นให้คุณความเป็นอิสระ
ที่ซึ่งทุกคนมีชีวิตชีวิตของเขาทั้งหลาย
ในความกลมกลืนสมบูรณ์”

German/Deutsch
“Grüße, willkommen in Ihrem neuen Zuhause Das Land, das Ihnen die Freiheit Wo jeder lebt sein Leben In perfekter Harmonie”

Dutch/Nederlands
“Groeten, welkom in je nieuwe huis Het land dat geeft je vrijheid Waar iedereen leven zijn leven In perfecte harmonie”

Spanish/Español
“Saludos, bienvenido a tu nueva casa La tierra que le da la libertad Donde todo el mundo vive su vida En perfecta armonia”

Greek/Ελληνικα
“χαιρετισμους, για να καλωσορισουμε το νεο σας σπιτι τη γη, που σας δινει την ελευθερια οπου ο καθενας ζει τη ζωη τους σε τελεια αρμονια”

Italian/Italiano
“Saluti di benvenuto a vostra nuova casa La terra che ti dà la libertà Dove ognuno vive la propria vita In perfetta armonia”

Portugese/Português
“Saudação de boas-vindas ao seu novo lar A terra que lhe dá a liberdade Onde todo mundo vive a sua vida Em perfeita harmonia”

Russian/Русский
“привет, добро пожаловать в ваш новый дом земли, что дает вам свободу,
где каждый живет своей жизни в идеальной гармонии”

Norwegian/Nordmann
“Hilsener ! Oensk velkommen til din nytt hjem
landet som bevilger du frihet
Hvor alle lever deres liv
I perfekt harmoni”

Brazilian Portugese/Brasileira Portugal
“Benvido! Benvinda a seu nova casa
O terreno que deferimentos you liberdade
Onde todo o mundo vidas seu vida
Em perfeito harmonia”

Bulgarian/българин,
“Добре дошъл към нов домашно огнище
Определителен член земя този давам ти свобода
Къде всеки живея техен живот
съвършен хармония”

Croation/Hrvatski
“Dobrodošli na tvoj nov svatko
Prizemljiti taj odobrenje te nezavisnost
Gdje svi svatko marva njihov život
Savršen sklad”

Czech/Čech
“Vítat až k tvůj nový domov
Člen určitý dát aby dar tebe členství
Kde každý dobytek jejich duch
Do bezvadný harmonie”

Danish/Dansk
“Velkommen hen til jeres ny hjem
Den lande at tusind dollars jer ubundethed
Der hvor hvortil lever deres liv
I ren overensstemmelse”

Finnish/Suomi
“Mieluinen jotta sinun veres koti- joutua
että apuraha te vapaus
Johon kaikki heidän elinikäinen
Kotona moitteeton sopusointu”

Hungarian/Magyar
“Szívesen lát -hoz -a új haza
A partot ér amit engedélyez ön szabadság
Hol mindenki él életük
-Ban tökéletes összhang”

Icelandic/íslenska
“Velkominn til þinn nýr heimili
Sveit þessi fjárveiting þú frelsi
Hvar hver og einn búpeningur þeirra líf
Í fullkominn samræmi”

Filipino/ Filipino
“Bati taggapin sa mo bago tahanan
Ang dumaong atipan ng pawid pagkalooban
Ka kalayaan saan lahat ng tao buhay kanila buhay
Di ganap pakakatugunan”

Romanian/Roman
“Bun venit la spre al tău nou casă
Art.hot. pămînt that măreţ tu drum liber
Unde fiecare ficat lor viaţă
Înăuntru parfum acord”

Serbian/Srbin
“Pozdrav! Dobrodošli u tvoj nov dom
Određeni član kopno taj odobrenje te nezavisnost
Kuda svatko stoka njihov život
Unutra savršen sklad”

Slovenian/Slovenski
“Voščilo izreči1 Dobrodošlico v vaš nov dom
Svet to dovoljenje vi svoboda kraj
Vsi govedo svoj življenje
V vzoren soglasnost’

Swedish/Svensk
“Hälsningarna! Välkomnande till din ny hem
Jorden så pass tusen dollar du friheten
Var var och en lever deras liv
I perfekt harmonien”

Welsh/Cymraeg
“Chroesawa at 'ch 'n grai addef 'r
Dirio a chymorthdaloedd 'ch rhyddid
Ble pawb bucheddau 'n hwy buchedd
I mewn berffeithio chynghanedd”

Turkish/Türk
“Selam Hoş geldiniz -e doğru senin yeni
Ev belgili tanımlık toprak adl.
şu vermek sen hürriyet nereye herkes çiftlik hayvanları onların
Hayat içinde mükemmel uyum”

/Arabicالعربيةالأرض التي تمنحك الحرية حيث يعيش الجميع حياتهم فى انسجام تام

Latin – just in case/Latin - iustus in theca
“Exspectata! Exspectata ut vestri novus domus
terra ut tribuo vos licentia
Qua omnipotens ago suum vita
In perficio consensio”

- Translated word for word; please corect/transliterate/add languges

WI Faithful

THE BOTTOM LINE

I don’t hold in contempt the familiar
Without intimacy, how then faith?
Yet I yearn for acquaintance with the unknown
Without wisdom, how could there be hope?
People, places, things I know offer comfort
Without respect, how then charity?

But it’s you I turn to for sanctuary
Without goodness, how could there be love?

I don’t know who you are
Still, I know my faith gives me strength
I don’t know of your plans
Still, I know you’re my only hope
I don’t know I’m worthy
Still, I accept your charity

I can’t even prove you exist
Still, I love you…still, I love you

WI Ferocious

MORE SPEED, LESS HASTE
Ferocious v Cautious

Never hesitate
Don’t procrastinate
Strike while the iron is hot
Don’t just stand and wait
Don’t be so sedate
React quickly as a shot
No time like today
Time won’t find a way
When time is of the essence
Wasting time won’t pay
No time to delay
Don’t give in to reticence
A single mission
No repetition
Be courageous, don’t succumb
To indecision
There’s no revision
Tomorrow may never come

Choose a lower gear
Careful as you steer
Study, argue and debate
Panic will bring fear
Don’t hurry, stay clear
Chill, mellow and marinate
And biding your time
Is never a crime
Don’t let a rush of blood
Cloud reason and rhyme
Ridicule the sublime
And convince you bad is good
So contemplate, learn
From bow to the stern
You have to negotiate
Each twist and turn
In time you will earn
The rewards of those who wait

TOP Like a Cowbird

Fair Weather Friends

Brutal but clever
Birds of a feather
Choose surrogates for their brood
They don’t even watch
As their own eggs hatch
And others provide the food

A similar trait
And one we all hate
Displayed by some we call friends
Who live to receive
Flatter to deceive
Merely a means to their ends

Isn’t it funny?
When it gets sunny
That’s when these leeches appear
They stick to your back
And feel like a sack
But not full of Christmas cheer

According to climate
Leech becomes primate
Not a chip on your shoulder
Monkey on your back
Always ‘all right Jack’
Acceptance makes them bolder

When weekends seem wet
It’s an odds-on bet
They’re gone in a cloud of dust
They’re fair weather friends
They’ll grab what life sends
Taking advantage of trust

Use plenty of salt
If you want to halt
Parasites; it’s better for
Getting rid of pests
With selfish interests
More than just a metaphor

WI Outrageous

LSD

You could have knocked me down with a feather
The first time my Gran mentioned LSD
I think you know just what I thought she meant
But did you know it means money?

Back to the time when we were small children
The ‘Olden Days’ were approaching past tense
Decimal currency hit the UK
Goodbye to (L) pounds, (s) shillings, and (d) pence

Penny for your thoughts? That’s twelve for a shilling
And two hundred and forty for a pound
Bargain basement nostalgia of times when
Lsd made the world go round

Bus fare to town was less than a ‘tanner’
‘Saturday Club’ at the old ABC
Sometimes the Odeon showed better pictures
If you had enough Lsd

Beano and Dandy, Topper and Whizzer
Catapults, cap-guns, balsa-wood planes
Upstairs at toy stores for hours at a time
How much Lsd for the trains?

‘Conkers’ was seasonal, ‘alleys’ as well
‘Footy’ was played every day, to a crowd
‘Ticky’, ‘Red Rover’ and ‘British Bulldog
No Lsd! No girls allowed!

Five Park Drive tipped and a book of matches
Change from a ‘bob’, four Mojo’s, a bubbly
Sweets were my cut, the ‘fags’ were my brother’s
Back in the days of Lsd

Just as Gran used to say, ‘those were the days’
Childhood memories that won’t fade for me
The addictions of children everywhere
Nothing to do with LSD

OAP @ MCD

TOP Conversations

OAP @ MCD

‘Was that the last bell I heard, just then?
Or are my ears as dodgy as my leg?
Whose shout is it? I’ll have a pint of mild
While you’re at it, I’ll have a pickled egg’

‘Why don’t you try some of those new fish snacks?
They’ve all the protein, vitamins as well
You never go for anything different
Try some of the other stuff they sell’

‘Hurry up; you know I’m spitting feathers
I’m not the man I used to be, these days
You know I’d go myself if I could manage
And anyway, I’m not stuck in my old ways’

‘Oh yeah? In that case, tell me something new
About the kind of things you get up to
With all that cash you save from your pension’

‘I’d keep my big mouth shut, if I were you
What about microchip technology?
You know, computers and the internet
I just bought one of those PC thingies
That’s ‘personal computer’; latest yet’

‘Don’t you mean ‘politically correct’?
But no, that isn’t you, on second thoughts’

‘I’m talking about communication
In binary notation, one’s and nought’s
I haven’t got an email address yet
When I do, I’ll let you have the pass-code
Then you can take a look at what I get
Mates of mine will send me stuff to download
They can get hold of all sorts of goodies
From Scandinavia and the Far East
Stuff they won’t show in mags, or on the telly
We’ll check it out; our eyes will have a feast
There’s no problem giving you my password
Just like sharing a toothbrush with a bird’

‘Sounds more like sharing the girlfriend
There’s laws against all that; have you not heard?’

‘You’d think I’d asked you to share the condom
You shouldn’t look a gift-horse in the gob
One day you’ll thank me for my kind offer
Don’t offer me advice, that’s not your job’

‘I wouldn’t pass it on if I were you
You never know where it’s already been
Or whose filthy hands it might have passed from
Think about it a bit; don’t be so keen
You have to watch yourself these days, my friend
And wash yourself, before and after use
Don’t ever give the boys in blue a reason
Don’t get caught up in strife; there’s no excuse
Think about the shameful consequences
Of getting caught with that stuff at your age
Then where would you be, if it went to court?
Mum’s the word, or you’ll end up in a cage.’

‘Would you say this is the face of concern?
I’m eighty one years old, if I’m a day
They don’t put old men like us in prison
We’d die before we got there, anyway’

DON'T SIT THERE

For WI - SUPERSTITION

A good mate of mine, called Charlie
Once taught me one smart rule
You see, Charlie was a drinker
But Charlie was no fool

“A good drink,” that’s what Charlie liked
“Requires ‘MCD’
That’s ‘Minimum Crawling Distance’
Back home, from hostelry.”

I took him up on his advice
Although I couldn’t drink
Like my good friend Charlie could
At least, I didn’t think

One night, when I was in there
I took an empty seat
“Don’t sit there!” An old man cried
“That place belonged to Pete.”

“Before Pete, it was Arthur’s place
Both regulars until
Old man Arthur kicked the bucket
Then Peter went downhill.”

“Not six months passed between their deaths
Pete only passed last week
A good turnout, to see him off
His wife did bubble and squeak.”

“You might not be superstitious
In here, we all are, mate
So no-one will ever sit there
For fear of tempting fate.”

“You don’t come in here that often
In fact it’s very rare
But one thing that you have to know
For God’s sake, don’t sit there!”

HOLE IN THE ROAD

For TOP 'That's Funny'

My best friend, Charlie, always liked a drink.
When pints or shorts were lined up on the bar
He’d down them faster than most men could think
It almost killed him and it left a scar

Each Thursday lunchtime, Charlie took his pay
And spent the weekend in the local pub
He’d drink those crazy weekends clear away
By Sunday afternoon, he’d need a sub

Pints of lager, shots of rum and black
Purple moustache tattooed to his top lip
Charlie often finished on his back
He’d lose control, but couldn’t take the tip

Friday nights, I’d meet him for a few
A pub near home, he’d call it ‘MCD’
Minimum Crawling Distance – that’ll do
Hope he comes out this time with his key

And then, one night, I started on my way
Through road works, cordoned off with orange tape
Some poor, blind-drunken soul will hit the hay
That lines the bottom of that ugly gape

I couldn’t chase this thought out of my head
As I approached the pub that crazy night
“Charlie’s pissed again,” a good friend said
I didn’t need to look, I knew alright

Now Charlie had been downing pints since noon
As was his habit when the weekend came
For Charlie, paralysis came too soon
Almost unconscious now, out of the game

He failed to notice me when I arrived
But got up from the table, spilling beer
Smashing glasses as he ducked and dived
“Where’s the bathroom, mate? I’m out of here”

When he returned, he looked at me and said.
“I think I’ve had enough, I’m going home
One more for the road won’t help my head
I’m gonna hit the street and have a roam.”

He grabbed his jacket, walked towards the door
Eight ‘o’ clock and already worse for wear
“You’re never gonna make it home, I’m sure.”
I tried to tell him, but Charlie didn’t care

But he’ll be back again tomorrow night
Tomorrow afternoon, as well, no doubt
He’ll leave the pub behind, without a fight
When ‘time’ is called and Charlie gets kicked out

By half past ten, I knew I’d had enough
I said ‘goodnight’ to all my other friends
I’d had four pints, and I was feeling rough
“When morning comes, I’ll wake up with the bends.”

I walked the short crawl home, without a sound
But stopped just once to light a cigarette
Tossing the empty packet to the ground
A ‘last request’, smoking will kill me yet

I noticed orange tape that had been breached
“Just as I thought,” I whispered, with a breath
And almost lost my balance, as I reached
“Some drunken bastard’s tumbled to his death.”

To my surprise, or perhaps, I might have known
I recognised the ‘body’ in the ditch
There was Charlie, lying all alone
“You crazy, drunken, blind son of a bitch.”

Fast asleep, angelic baby face;
I called to him, but Charlie didn’t stir
“That’s what you get, when you can’t take the pace,
I’ll bid you a good evening, kind sir.”

Guys like Charlie, who can’t take their drink
Will say they just don’t ever make mistakes
But surely this will make him stop and think
“Never again!” He’ll pledge, when he awakes

The best night’s sleep he’d had in several weeks
Could not deter the craving he can’t hide
An alcoholic, Charlie always seeks
Consolation from the bottle by his side

But please don’t pass harsh judgement on his kind
Come pay-day, he can barely find his feet
But through the week, ‘till Thursday, you will find
The nicest person you could hope to meet

I once asked Charlie, “Mate, why drink so much?”
He said, “Just to forget what makes me drink.
It must be working, memories don’t touch,
‘Cause I am drunk, therefore I do not think!”

TOP - Late Spring

Dreaming Of Springtime

Humidity level racing off the scale to
Saturation point, provoking thirst it can’t quench
Gasping for life’s breath, like a fish out of water
Sucking fiercely; syrup-sticky scents of morning,
Huge moisture-laden mouthfuls of hydrated air

Overnight minimum of ninety Fahrenheit
Sun’s rapid rise, announces, ‘morning is cancelled’
Insipid cherry-pink, transforms to tangerine,
Lemon-yellow, molten-metal-white, in seconds

Water seems so foreign, yet so familiar
Shower-outs, a testament to dried river-beds
Power-outs, resulting from the lack of hydro

Yet you could drown in your sleep from the sweat of air

Just for a moment, a dream; nostalgic nonsense
Give me a misty-mountain, cool English morning
Overlooking valleys, steeped in shrouds of silence
Dew-dappled daybreak, evaporating slowly
Cock-crow to consciousness; time to re-live reverie

Reality bites, with the sound of alarm bells
Back to ‘beat thy neighbour’ and vanity culture
Landscape gives way to the industrial townscape
That skyscrapes the starscape; invites a ‘great escape’

Take excesses of climate, lock them in a box
Throw away the key. Live forever, in Springtime
When blissful bird-song beckons each day, in greeting

Leave unpredictability to weathermen

TOP - Mythology

The Nong Khai Naga

The seven-headed serpent of the Mekong
Breathes fireballs known as; ‘bang fai paya nak’.
For centuries, this legendary ‘Naga’
Has haunted Isan with its ‘S’ shaped track

Late autumn, full moon; the end of Buddhist Lent
Location: the heart of Nong Khai province
The sixteenth century temple, Wat Paa Luang
Provides the setting for our vigilance

A ball of pink light reflects on the river
Followed by more, with similar features
Without a sound, they hurtle ever-skywards
Up to a height of hundreds of metres

The ‘Nong Khai Naga’, like the ‘Loch Ness Monster’
Inhabits the depths, rarely seen or heard
An existence which is disputed by some
But photographs ‘prove’ the witnesses’ word

Like all good myths, this one’s fiercely contested
Legend claims a monster breathing fire
“It’s folk-lore, and however deeply rooted,”
Science counters, “Legend is a liar”

“Merely Mekong Methane,” agree professors
“Ignited by the natural forces
Of pressure, heat, gravity, oxygen, and
Proximity to Sun’s UV sources.”

Believers hit back with their words of caution
To those who would put nature to the test
“Don’t ever doubt the power of the Naga
Don’t make him angry…if you know what’s best.”

Top Transformation

KARMA COMA

I saw a programme on TV
About the gifts of man
Most gifted individuals say
“I do it ‘cause I can.”

But these were no ‘normal’ geniuses
They’d suffered coma, all
Long periods of unconsciousness
Awakened by the call
Now, things they’d never done before
Seem more than possible
They’re all now experts in new fields
It sounds improbable

Two years ago, on a motorbike
I had an accident
Unconscious for more than a week
Don’t know how long I spent
Recovering from the trauma
They said it was ‘touch and go’
In hospital; I don’t know where
I guess I’ll never know

When I came round some time later
I found I was confused
Too many concepts filled my head
My memory refused
To guide me through this new darkness
That shrouded some things past
One question that I asked myself
How long’s it going to last?

But I was able to use ‘gifts’
I never thought I had
Never an artist, but I painted
A portrait of my lad
It hangs upon his bedroom wall
Taking pride of place
Among all his long-gone heroes;
There but for the grace…

It’s not all glory, however
My temper’s very short
My eyesight’s deteriorating
And things I never thought
I could do, like Quantum Physics
Didn’t get past the stage
Of borrowing a book, or two
And reading the first page
In fact, I don’t know what it is
But I am very keen
To go and look it up – one day
And learn what it could mean.

Life

Seven Ages of Man

They would call us the children of the damned
Our mother died when we were very young
Soon after, our father left, to be with her
We know how to say ‘good-bye’ to loved ones

At school, the teachers tried to educate
Work, rest and play, eat your food, wash your hands
Why couldn’t they understand our wisdom?
We already knew all there was to know

Gainful employment earned our daily bread
Promotions swiftly took us to the top
As employers, we could dictate our terms
We knew how to influence with standards

Only two of us ever got married
Honeymoon, anniversaries, children
We were blessed by offspring of both sexes
They grew with us and made our lives complete

Healthy pensions ensured our happiness
In retirement, life was good for a while
All the time we counted on our blessings
Our lives under control, until

Old age came quickly, followed by illness
Doctors and nurses; time in hospitals
No recovery, no second chances
Get it right first time, or die unfulfilled

But our lives didn’t end without meaning
Our time had come and we were well prepared
Children, grand-children, mourned at our graveside
Said ‘good-bye’ to the children of the damned