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Poetry |
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When all of You are Dead and Gone
By John Crooks, MRCVS, Beverley.
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John Crooks, a former president of the British Veterinary Association, frequently called on Don Wilson's services to dart dangerous or unmanageable animals.
He composed this poem for his friend and colleague, Donald Wilson.
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When all of you are dead and gone
They'll still tell tales of Immobilon Don
So settle down - fill your glasses, of course
And I'll tell you the tale of the unlucky horse.
Everyone was helpless, the owner upset
No one could catch it, not even the vet
Ever since he went out, in the spring of the year
They couldn't get near him and thought it was fear
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But the crafty old equine, it wasn't just fear
He was blowed if anyone was going to get near
For saddles or bridles were not to his taste
Nor galloping, nor jumping, nor unseemly haste
Lots of grass, lots of sleeping and nothing to do
While other poor ponies could wait in a queue
For snotty nosed kids in pony club hats
Instructed by colonels in breeches and spats
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His name was a legend, like Churchill or Beckett
Or Engler or Amin or Sir James Reckitt
Don loaded his darts, Don loaded his gun
Shooting horses with Immobilon is skilfully done
I'll soon put a stop to this ridiculous farce
Out flew the dart, slap into the arse
The horse leapt forward, brushed past an alder
Staggered and swayed and fell into the Calder
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The river was fast and the river was deep
And Immobilon induces a most rapid sleep
As they pushed out a boat Don stood in the bow
He's just about out, put a rope round him now
There's a legend at Reckitts that Don never missed
Bullocks, camels or horses, sober or p...d
It's true, cardiac arrest was occasionally found
But this was the first PM finding Found drowned
© John Crooks - 2004
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Poetry - "Obsession" By Nadie.
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I would ride madness
like the loins of a lover,
cast myself into Hell
even sleep with my brother.
I would swallow poison
and swear it was like nectar,
Read more...
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Poetry - She Stands Framed, Duality and
Undulating Pulses .. By MD Tasker
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UNDULATING PULSES
EBBS EDDYS WHIRLS TIDES
FLUX AND FLOW, SEASONAL GLORIOUS RIDE
ATOM THUMP ELECTRON BUMPING
HEART STOPPING
CORPUSCLE POPPING
LEAF FALLING SUN STOPPING
Read more...
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Poetry - You can take the boy out of the council estate...
By Lee Cassanell
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Pass me a chocolate,
Make mine a tea.
Eyes on the tele
Plate on your knee.
Kids in the garden
Shirts in the wash
Caring if Beckhams cheating on Posh.
Read more...
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Poetry - Do Not Depend on the Wind By Maurice Fairfield
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Do not depend on the wind,
many a sailor and miller has found
A grave in the wave a grave in the ground
In waiting for wind.
Do not depend on the rain,
Pleasure and pain,
Harrowing loss, empty gain
Read more...
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Poetry - I Shan't Be There Anymore by Michelle Dee.
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Forgotten now are the fairies and
fantasies, the magic and mysteries
Brush the glitter
from my eyes so sore.
I shan't be there anymore
The garden the swings, a child's
playthings, a chance for fun
in the hazy summer sun.
Read more...
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Poetry
- Rosedale Chimney Hill By
Maurice Fairfield.
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Long ago in a different time
The World seemed bright and shiny new.
My chin still wore downy fuzz,
My eyes saw clearly, straight and true.
Though money was scarce I had my share
Of strengths and skills, and loads to bear
Could never crush inside my heart,
The love of life abiding there.
Read more...
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Poetry - Void By Darren Sant
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"Where am I?"
Blackness. The absence of sound and light.
A non-entity floating in an inky void.
"Is anybody out there?"
Silence. Complete and utter nothingness.
Emptiness vast and lonely.
"Please answer me."
Read more...
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Poetry - When You're Ready and Resolve By Steve Rudd
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We made a pact
At the last filling station
Interstate M62..
I was so proud of you
You'd never normally say boo..
Who drove you to rebel?
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Poetry - Demons by Shelly D.
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She wants a tattoo but really
at my age and a nipple pierced,
what is she thinking.
She got out again last night
always running away oh to be free
What will she do this time
Read more...
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Poetry - Journeyman By Patrick Henry
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His learning class sank down the pits so deep as hell
Anyone expects from graft being a penance in the earth
To cut out coal black as mortal sin which burns
To fire steam force and make that world power work.
He lit out from there to war abroad: the tender flame
Of raw youth blown out close by where his chance survived..
Read more...
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Poetry - Hangin' Around & The You and Me Poem
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By Jane Foster
In gangs we trawled the wet streets, alive with possibilities,
The smell of fresh rain and freedom in our noses.
How come they always say that we didn't have much,
When so much open space was ours?
Read more...
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Poetry - Spirit of Woody Guthrie
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By Patrick Henry
These voices rising to a tremulous high C.,
Sad as a song created by old Woody G.,
Who long searched the home of the brave for the land of the free,
But found it's only left deep inside you and me.
Read more...
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