Spoof CV

Graduated from the school of misery;

Flunked hard knocks;

Took a stab at whingeing;

Ended up on the rocks.

Old Haunts

1966

See where he stands,

Glorious to behold,

Like some Roman God

Flushed with the spoils of life,

Re-entering the shrine of youth,

Resplendent in old school tie.

And, in his mind,

The bridge of time

Is idly spanned,

Back to the lost cities

Of his youth.

As he passes,

Small boys wonder at his bulk;

He marches on in state,

Down the halls of yesteryear.

The Prodigal Son

Returns to his own.

Continuum

Was there life on earth?

Did ghosts in ancient times

Walk village greens

Thinking themselves eternal?

We, on other planets, know

Little of what they were

Or might have been;

Whether, like us, they sought

Enlightenment.

The silence that reigns

Through space

Might tell us more;

If only that

What we don’t understand

Is endless.

Dog's Life

‘Look me up, ’ she lied.

I took her at her word.

She lived in the Royal Kennels.

If there were other animals,

I couldn’t see:

Just columns and windows,

Brooding like butlers.

How easy access is

If you pad in unannounced;

Everyone’s barking,

Of course.

A slum dog

Down Millionaire Row

Soon learns the part.

Now, if the plates aren’t gold,

I send the food back.

Voices

The voice in your headphones

May be wrong

When it says the painting ‘breathes’.

There are no obvious signs.

The voice is blind:

It can’t see thoughts;

But nor can you.

Jumping a few old masters,

You move on:

A minute per picture

Seems too short

For a lifetime’s effort.

You are a masterpiece,

Needing no expert commentary

To prove yourself.

Back in the open air,

You sit, perplexed,

Consulting the day for answers.

And who’s to say

That darkening scene

In front of you

Isn’t some future Rembrandt?

What If

‘Does it rain in heaven?’

You ask.

If it does,

I’m sure they’ll have

Perfect umbrellas.

Momento

When we were young,

You’d sit us down

And tell us wonders

Of love and loss,

Surviving two wars;

Meeting Gran by chance

In the days when wireless reigned,

And sail still ruled

The waves you’d swum

Since childhood.

You spoke an age

In photographs

Distilled from memory.

I glimpsed you last

As I boarded the ferry home

(before they closed it down):

An arm,

Enigmatically raised

In a brief salute.

Ignoring the final click

Of the shutter.

Pure Invention

After the last flood, you promised

No more Arks;

Exploring lost countries

And finding out why;

Defying the past

In planes that fly backwards.

No more basking with sharks

On a submarine sundeck;

Or plumbing new depths

With trips to Atlantis.

If you can’t change the world,

Don’t try.

Do a crossword instead.

People who lead

Dull lives

Still make it to the grave.

Reinventing fire might sound bright,

But it could make things worse.

Most dreams,

Like postcards from strangers you ought to know,

Remain on the mantelpiece.

Pater Familias

You keep popping up

In the strangest places.

Walking into a room,

Your face appears,

Smiling the same odd way.

Real or not,

I know you’re there.

My shadow everywhere

Bumps into yours.

I hear your voice

Through doors

Long closed.

Even the dark

Assumes your shape;

You’re here so much,

The monsters under the bed

Have been complaining.

SOS

You sit, tapping out Morse;

That much I get.

“Don’t rock the boat,” you said,

As we boarded the Titanic.

When a heart sinks,

‘Mayday’ is not enough.

The seas we know

Won’t save us.

So, you sit,

Tapping out Morse,

Time upon time.

For all the world like an expert.

Beneath

In memoriam 11/11/11

These flowering legions

Cannot know

What glory hides:

Fields of the fallen, glimpsed

Along the route to Rheims:

Graveyards of Picardy

Where real poppies grow,

Transforming each minute spent

In recompense

For those

Whose silence is endless.

Prophetic

I hear your voice:

Cassandra in reverse,

Stating the obvious;

While I sit,

Staring at the landscape,

Consulting the gold,

Bowed heads of wheat:

A congregation

Bright with questions

For which the wind,

Shaking the scattered poppies,

Has no answers.

Joker

You haven’t left,

I know for sure.

I saw you in Sainsbury’s

Only the other day,

Your cart piled high

With goodies.

The dead don’t change;

They carry on,

Playing the same old game.

Shuffling the pack,

I see you again,

Ignoring the rules.

Well past your sell-by date:

Your smile as bright

As a new-minted coin,

Deceiving no one.

Memoriam

The doomed man  

Hears fireworks he cannot see,

Smells Autumn’s corrosive breath,

As metal salts

Ignite the air.

In his mind’s eye,

A boy,

Lighting a match,

Holding it up for a dare.

A crowd appears

Chanting in fatal glee.

And here in the dark,

The past explodes,

A story unrehearsed:

An effigy on a bonfire.

Fire Circle

These faces joined by fire,

Resemble each other in a way

That mocks proximity.

A brief chiaroscuro

Igniting our fates,

Caught in this ritual

Of flame and wonder.

.

Redeeming this patch

Of common ground,

Where truth holds out a burning hand

Against tomorrow.

Oracle

How many lamp posts are there in China?

Ask Google, you said.

Do you love me? / is sex is any good?/ are the neighbours watching?/ is two a crowd?

Ask Google.

Who’s Google? I said

Ask him!

Can he tell me who I am?

If you get the answer.

Can I Google myself if I don’t have a brain?

Can Google swim the Pacific?

Will Google save the human race?

Ask Google.

What’s a software clone, what’s a search engine, what’s a piece of string?

Do electrons know we exist?

Is the universe insane?

Did God invent sex?

Is Bill Gates a pop-up?

Do farts sound louder at high altitude?

Was the first elephant a mistake?

How many sods does it take to make sod’s law?

How many death squads does it take to change a light bulb?

Do you really want the answer? you shouted. Do you? Do you? Do you?

How should I know?

Then what are you asking me for?

Ask Google.