VISIONS OF THE APOCALYPSE

I have it on good authority

That the sun will rise

At least one more time;

But not necessarily tomorrow…

There is in Eden by a Tree,

A frog who sits and sings to thee:

Minky, Minky, Monkey Moo –

How doth my cretin steam!

Sing to me of the Bugaboo –

The Bugaboo, and the Dream!

Beneath the window, catching flies,

The Lord of All Creation lies…

If all the world were perfect,

And all the seas were pink,

Yet all my fleas had foul disease –

What would the neighbours think?

Behind the fountain, eating dirt

A man sits in a goat’s hair shirt.

Mary, Mary, Maid of God

Love me one more time;

Before my life evaporates

And all my dreams sublime...

Pussycat.

GREY GODDESS

This morning’s reading

Is taken from the Book of the Dead.

Lord Save Us.

If I should seem unkind to you,

Or if my ways should seem a little odd,

Remember only what you want to see

And do not think, and do not dare to think

Beyond the flowers of the day.

I have been where you will not go

And reported what you will not speak of:

Llafar coch and llafar gwyn –

Lord of Darkness Enter In.

My lady she taunts me from her high tower

But she cannot see it’s base;

Base bastards in the bastions

Tell Me What is True.

They come to me and ask me –

“Tell me what is true.”

What can I say and who can I say it to?

Lord of the Lost Ones, lighten our darkness;

Lead me to learning, or lead me astray…

Tell me a story, Bobby…

”Jesse James the Outlaw

Always on the run,

With a blue wisp of smoke

Hanging down from his gun.

Hanging down…”

On this grey morning

The flickering lantern barely illumines itself,

Casting no radiance.

I do not say I wish I had never learned what I have learned,

But neither will I tell you the secret name of the Goddess

For I do not know.

Watch her watch the watchers watching –

She won’t laugh at you.

"La poesía no es propiedad de quienes la escriben, sino de quienes la necesitan."

Pablo Neruda en El Cartero

INTRODUCTION TO MY POETRY BLOG

My friend Sue suggested that I write this short description with search-engine-friendly keywords that would attract more visitors to this site.  Essentially this blog is a showcase of my poetry.  The poems range from romantic poetry, through mini epics to just plain humorous poetry and cover topics such as romantic loss, 60s-style protest and grave-robbing!  There is even metapoetry (poems about poetry) and some "concrete poetry".  Now that you are here, please scroll down to the “Archive" links on the right (underneath the ads) to see the rest of my poems.  I think I was also supposed to say something about cute kittens playing with toys and puppy dogs wearing Santa Claus outfits…


And please buy my book - it is very good!
http://www.amazon.com/N-Allegorical-Novel-Trevor-Rowlands/dp/1447516206
http://www.amazon.co.uk/N-Allegorical-Novel-Trevor-Rowlands/dp/1447516206

TIME DRAGS, SWIFTLY

The day is done, the night is come,
And time drags swiftly by;
So swiftly here, so swiftly gone,
Yet stretches in the future long,
And tardily draws nigh.

The seconds seem to laugh at me,
And quickly flash away –
The minutes grin as past they spin,
Yet longer they delay;
While the hours smile, as all the while
They elongate the day.

But when I come to peace with Time,
And call a truce and make amends,
The time too quickly passes by;
The end of peace too soon draws nigh,
And fast our friendship ends.

And so I sit and sigh my sighs,
And shrug my shrugs and drink my wine,
And cry my tears and sing my songs,
And Time, which travels fast along
As minutes round the hours throng,
Yet stretches in the future long,
Is laughing while I write this song,
And time drags, swiftly, by.

Do only good, and seek no reward.

PAST TRIUMPHS

Time, it passes slowly past,

Past my window, creeping soft;
Past the past which passeth not,

Past the passed

But not forgot.

Nothing changes –

All things pass;

But not, indeed, their passing.