Please note that the work on this blog is the copyright of the writers and may not be reproduced without their permission.
photo of Coypu (nutria) in Dortmund Zoo by Timo Sack
The Coypu is lacking in charm
it is like a large rat, but aquatic
it makes holes in the banks of a stream
and the damage it does is dramatic
The Coypu has bright orange teeth
a look which is seldom in fashion
and at times has been bred for its meat
which, though low-fat, does not inspire passion
You could wear Coypu fur as a cloak
if that is your idea of clothing
though you might risk a sudden attack
from protestors who’d view you with loathing
Coypu ravaged the Anglian Broads
till instructions came from the judiciary
and we're told the obstreperous hordes
were wiped out by the Min. Ag. and Fishery
with every assurance and platitude
that humanely their weapons were working...
but with orange incisors and attitude
the Coypu may somewhere be lurking
'Passport to Pimlico'(1949)
Drinking until you fell flat on your face,
getting through sixty untipped fags a day,
stuffing yourself with bacon rolls and buns
regardless of what the doctor might say,
let alone the wife, whose appointed place
was to get your washing and ironing done,
cook a decent dinner and clear away.
You can see it might have been a lot of fun.
No washing-up or hanging the clothes out,
hoovering or mopping the kitchen floor,
talking to the kids or cooking the grub,
all that New Man stuff would be out the door.
No poncy foreplay or fiddling about,
a brisk embrace and then straight to the nub,
taking thirty-five seconds and no more,
then get your drawers on and down the pub.
Of course there were some serious downsides,
work, lawn-mowing, creosoting the shed,
an adherence to ancient traditions
which made experiment pretty well dead
so life experience was less than wide,
no art or culture or erudition,
no decent shampoo, and a limited
repertoire of sexual positions.
Personal hygiene was largely absent,
only tramps would have beards like that today,
and there’s no shortage of things to condemn,
like attitudes to women or being gay:
sometimes those chaps were rather unpleasant.
But they were taken prisoner by their time
like us, and finally one can only say
we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them.
'I'm All Right Jack' (1959)
photo by Aaron Logan
The ear-tufts of the Caracal
may help it hear a mouse
communicate with friends
or hide better in tall grass
The Caracal will eat most things
though mammals are preferred
it can dine on a monkey
or perhaps snack on a bird
In London Zoo I met a Caracal
which would rather shyly join
its keeper in a game of football
but only if it was in the mood.
.
photo from wallpaperblog.wordpress.com
Sometimes at night I feel my heartbeat
Race
Like a butterfly
Wings beating fast inside
Sometimes at night I wake drowning
Mermaid tail thrashing
Going nowhere
Sometimes at night I wake crying
Tears drench my pillow
Why
Sometimes at night I dream of singing
Songs from past and present
Writhe round my mind and wake me
In the morning
Only shadows of the tunes
Remain
Sometimes at night people fill my mind
Dead and alive, they crowd me
Needing – something
What
Sometimes I wake
Heart beating like a butterfly
Wondering
When
Sometimes the morning sun
Rises in a sky painted glorious
Pink and red
Then I know
Why
.
"I hope she is dreaming of a progressive future. Do you think my smile will frighten her when she wakes up?" said Gordon Bear.
"Eew, she looks quite common," said Dave Bear, "she will have to be looked after by volunteers."
"She should vote for me," said little Nick Bear, "because she is cute and so am I."
But Goldilocks slept on....
.
Illustration by Margaret Evans Price, 1927
.... but you can add one if you like...
photo: Zack Clothier/Rex Features
photo by Ekko
Who gives flowers these names?
A rose by any other name is still a rose.
Not so the humble pansy.
Some call it heartsease
Never thought at all why so
Til with the flowering
Of our pansies
I realized what heartsease means.
These flowers with their lovely faces
Ease the heart.
It’s that simple,
That’s why flowers that have no care
Have no feelings for us
Just smile in deep purple velvet
Outrageous bright yellow and
Sweetly gentle orange
Smile.
The garden starts to flourish
As the snow diminishes.
We have colour and we have life.
I can choose some posies for my room.
Daffodils in the green vase are fun,
But too late for St David’s Day.
I search the cupboard and the cabinet
For special pansy vase – from Myrthr Mawr.
Find it, pick the blooms, dead-head the rest –
They’ll bloom again.
I have my pansies, my heartsease and can be quiet again.
photographer unknown.
Henry Moore: Pink and Green (Tate Gallery)
Sleep on, lying safely down there on the platforms,
Huddled together in row upon row.
Something terrible’s happened at Bethnal Green Station
But no-one is talking, it’s best not to know.
Sleep on, Harry, Amy, the girl from the chippy,
The chap from the butcher’s, and Vernon and Nell,
When you wake in the morning your friends will be missing,
The steps will be swept and nobody will tell.
When you wake in the morning they will all be missing,
The ones that you loved or you saw every day,
Sleep on now, not knowing a few yards above you
They died on the steps and were taken away.
Try to sleep now, young Alf, lying there in the darkness,
Eyes wide at the shock of the things you just saw.
Try to sleep, Mrs Chumbley, you’ve done all you can
But you can’t put the dead back where they were before.
Sleep on now, the lost, in your rows in the mortuaries,
Brought in by those who worked on through the night
And who won’t close an eye in the nights that will follow.
You will be remembered, we promise. Sleep tight.
(These sites will explain more:
http://www.stairwaytoheavenmemorial.org/gpage5.html
and
http://spitalfieldslife.com/2010/02/11/alf-morris-survivor-of-the-bethnal-green-tube-disaster)
What you got there then?
Leeks.
Leeks?
Yeah, leeks.
Leeks. You going to cook ’em then?
Yeah, going to make soup.
Soup?
Yeah, leek soup.
Leek soup. Nice.
Yeah, nice.
You got a blender have you?
No.
No blender?
No. Chop ’em up.
What, the leeks, you chop ’em up then?
Yeah, I like it chunky.
Soup?
Yeah, chunky. Big soup.
Big soup. Nice.
Yeah. Nice.
I’ll come round then, shall I?
(laugh) Yeah.
Yeah?
Yeah, you do that.
I’ll send you an email, shall I?
Yeah, when you’re coming round.
Have some soup.
Yeah, leek soup.
Leek soup, nice.
Yeah.
Nice.
.
