JiscMail Logo
Email discussion lists for the UK Education and Research communities

Help for POETRYETC Archives


POETRYETC Archives

POETRYETC Archives


POETRYETC@JISCMAIL.AC.UK


View:

Message:

[

First

|

Previous

|

Next

|

Last

]

By Topic:

[

First

|

Previous

|

Next

|

Last

]

By Author:

[

First

|

Previous

|

Next

|

Last

]

Font:

Proportional Font

LISTSERV Archives

LISTSERV Archives

POETRYETC Home

POETRYETC Home

POETRYETC  2000

POETRYETC 2000

Options

Subscribe or Unsubscribe

Subscribe or Unsubscribe

Log In

Log In

Get Password

Get Password

Subject:

Another ancient poem

From:

Douglas Clark <[log in to unmask]>

Reply-To:

[log in to unmask]

Date:

Sat, 7 Oct 2000 14:11:05 +0100 (BST)

Content-Type:

text/plain

Parts/Attachments:

Parts/Attachments

text/plain (209 lines)

I wanted to write a poem on "memes and genes" for Alison Croggon
explaining that 99% of our creativity (there are always exceptions
like Shakespeare) comes from them. WE are not really very original
people. But I couldn't. So instead with the American election coming
up I will post the poem I wrote for Bobby Kennedy's funeral in 1968.
I used a Ray Bradbury story of Picasso as a kick-off point then
introduced my cast of characters. If you watched the funeral cortege
on its railway trip you will understand. It does go on forever but
in those days so did Dylan's songs.


Camelot


a lost little boy scrambling the sanddunes
his dog beside him
bounding pawmark to pawmark
then over the last ridge
and there
the sea
deep blue eternity
with an occasional white ripple
and the waves beating the foreshore
the empty arc of golden beach
curving into evening

and there on the sand
a small dot
dancing
it's a little old man
a baldheaded gnome
with goblin ears
dancing with his stick
round and round he goes
patterns in the sand
shapes grotesque fantastic
shapes
drawn in the sand
with his walking stick
the little boy follows
hopping in time
as the little man twirls
swirling his tale
as he spells his shapes
pictures in the sand
and the little boy learns
as the tide comes in
of a blonde goddess
who rode horses
and even now
was splashing in the foam
with tight blue jeans
and a gilded body
she eyed the horses
and did everything wrong

the little man etched
her beautiful spirals
the tears flowing
for she'd loved him so
and he'd only seen her
one dark wet evening
sitting at the local picture show

and black widows weeping
tears and tears
for a young man prancing
a tribune's path
and the black widows weeping
tears and tears
for a tribune of the people
who spoke his part

and the little boy followed
hopping in time
as the baldheaded gnome
jigged and danced
in the fading sun
furiously scratching
to finish his tale
as the water crept
slyly up the shore

the gold headed girl
and the whole world weeping
she wouldn't take love
for she needed it so

and the young man with a vision
dreaming and doing
a stranger in his country
for he loved it so
standing for his people
a wisp of glory
love thy neighbour
a long long way to go

and black widows weeping
tears and tears
for a tribune of the people
who spoke his part

and the little man weeping
for he had promised the moon
to pay her a visit
and sing a sad tune
for tight blue jeans
and white horses in the sand

a great man spitting blood
crushed by metal hooves
ripped by the cavalcade
shattered for his fame
and the black widows weeping
tears and tears
for a tribune of the people
who spoke his part

with his pointed ears
and his walking stick
the little man twirled
and spun upon the sand
as he etched his tale
while the waves beat in
and the little boy followed
hopping in time
with his dog beside him
and his head bent down

and the black widows weeping
tears and tears
for the great young man
who spoke his part
and made them a dream
for to act their part
but was ripped by the cavalcade
crushed by hooves
for loving his neighbour
a long way to go

and the little man cried
and wept his tears
for a blonde goddess
who even now
was splashing in the foam
with tight blue jeans
and a gilded body
who did everything wrong
and the little boy followed
hopping in time
and the black widows wept
tears and tears
for a young man prancing
a tribune's path
and the black widows wept
tears and tears
for a tribune of the people
who spoke his part
ripped by the cavalcade
crushed by hooves
for having a dream
which hadn't been thought

and all was silent
and the little man danced
furiously scratching
to finish his tale
as the little boy followed
hopping in time
with his dog beside him
and his head bent down

the little man wept
and the little man cried
for a gold headed girl
who wouldn't take love
for she knew herself
from where she came
that the black widows wept
tears and tears
for a great man's blood
shattered for his fame
for having a dream
which hadn't been thought
a tribune of the people
who spoke his part

and the little boy followed
hopping in time
with his dog beside him
and his head bent down
as the tide came in
and covered the shore
occasional white ripples
on the empty shore
as the little man cried
and sadly went home

the little boy watched
and patted his dog
then they looked at the sea
and trotted off ---
alone




%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Top of Message | Previous Page | Permalink

JiscMail Tools


RSS Feeds and Sharing


Advanced Options


Archives

May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
February 2019
January 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
March 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
September 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
April 2014
March 2014
February 2014
January 2014
December 2013
November 2013
October 2013
September 2013
August 2013
July 2013
June 2013
May 2013
April 2013
March 2013
February 2013
January 2013
December 2012
November 2012
October 2012
September 2012
August 2012
July 2012
June 2012
May 2012
April 2012
March 2012
February 2012
January 2012
December 2011
November 2011
October 2011
September 2011
August 2011
July 2011
June 2011
May 2011
April 2011
March 2011
February 2011
January 2011
December 2010
November 2010
October 2010
September 2010
August 2010
July 2010
June 2010
May 2010
April 2010
March 2010
February 2010
January 2010
December 2009
November 2009
October 2009
September 2009
August 2009
July 2009
June 2009
May 2009
April 2009
March 2009
February 2009
January 2009
December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
2005
2004
2003
2002
2001
2000


JiscMail is a Jisc service.

View our service policies at https://www.jiscmail.ac.uk/policyandsecurity/ and Jisc's privacy policy at https://www.jisc.ac.uk/website/privacy-notice

Secured by F-Secure Anti-Virus CataList Email List Search Powered by the LISTSERV Email List Manager