Excellent, Pat. Well dug out. muddy/cuddly is wonderful and top verbs esp 'whipped'.
Bill
> On 24 Jan 2015, at 12:38 am, Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> Oops Bill it was another WW2 poem -I am so ancient!
>
>
> GRANNY CUDDLY
>
> Black on white
> planes in sight
> shelter muddy
> granny cuddly
>
> overhead aircraft fly
> I wave scream shout cry
> but no not ours not ours
> whipped back back inside
> black cold steel box
> but granny cuddly
> peek out again
> they're ours they're ours
> I wave scream shout cry
> victory victory victory
>
> black on white
> planes in sight
> shelter muddy
> granny cuddly.
>
>
> pmcmanus
> (420) 592
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
> Behalf Of Bill Wootton
> Sent: 23 January 2015 02:12
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: Re: come friendly bombs
>
> No cheering for German planes here that I can see, Pat but a fascinating
> poem. Reminds me of 'Poor Doc Daneeka' in Catch 22, whose death is lamented
> because he is on the flying list when McWatt crashes his plane deliberately
> into a cliff after accidentally slicing pontoon-standing Hungry Joe in half
> with a too-low pass in his plane. Doc bounces around, pointing out that he
> is still alive and that the list had been forged to boost his flying hours.
> No matter; to Yossarian et al, he is a dead man.
>
> Can it be true that your continued existence is due to this quirk of fate?
>
> Thanks, Max, too, for reminding me of the Slough poem, a beauty.
>
> Bill
>
>
>>> On 23 Jan 2015, at 10:27 am, Patrick McManus
>> <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>
>> Bill I found it !!not easy in my 400 or so poems Published in 'Jigsaw'
>>
>>
>>
>> FAMILY SECRET
>> MY SECOND AFTERNOON
>> -NOT AT SCHOOL
>>
>> First day
>> I saw school, I did not like it!
>> I screamed and screamed, and screamed
>> my mother was summoned, to take me home
>>
>> second day
>> I saw school, I did not like it!
>> I screamed and screamed, and screamed
>> again my mother, was summoned
>> later in disgrace, big disgrace
>> headmistress's office, big and cold
>> my mother was told, told off!
>> never have we allowed, a child
>> a child to go home, on his second
>> his second day, it's disgraceful!
>> sort him out, bring him back tomorrow!
>> or there will trouble, a lot of trouble!
>>
>> later I sat snug, with biscuits under
>> under the counter, at my mum's job
>> safe in the hairdressers, all cosy
>> I remember nothing, nothing more.
>>
>> over over forty years later
>> my mother so ill, so ill said
>> said, all drugged and confused
>> I want, to tell you something
>> I do not want to upset you, but
>> but do you remember, remember
>> on your second day, at school
>> when you made your second, yes
>> second big scene, and was disgraced
>> and the headmistress, was outraged
>> and, I took you with me to work?
>>
>> soon after, the school was bombed
>> many children, and teachers died
>>
>> on the radio, they read out sadly
>> read out the list, of those killed
>> your granny heard it, heard your name!
>> they found your card, by your desk
>>
>> we decided not, not to tell you
>> also you had a sister, Margaret
>> who lived, lived just three days.
>>
>>
>> pmcmanus
>> 413
>> Published in Jigsaw
>>
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
>> Behalf Of Max Richards
>> Sent: 22 January 2015 15:47
>> To: [log in to unmask]
>> Subject: come friendly bombs
>>
>>> On Jan 22, 2015, at 9:22 PM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
>>>
>>> Find the poem, Herr Pat or re-write it. What a hoot!
>>>
>>> Bill
>>>
>>>
>>>> On 22 Jan 2015, at 8:08 pm, Patrick McManus
>> <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>>>
>>>> Enjoyed this warm tale oops nearly wrote tail -and to think that I
>>>> was a top speller at school -(long long since) I lost my grandmother
>>>> early on was devastated for years-I remember but probable can't fine
>>>> a WW2 poem about us together-where the aircraft I was cheering on
>>>> were actually German and I got hauled back into our air-raid shelter!
>>>> Cheers P
>> Slough
>>
>> Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
>> It isn't fit for humans now,
>> There isn't grass to graze a cow.
>> Swarm over, Death!
>> Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
>> Those air -conditioned, bright canteens, Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned
>> milk, tinned beans, Tinned minds, tinned breath.
>>
>> Mess up the mess they call a town-
>> A house for ninety-seven down
>> And once a week a half a crown
>> For twenty years.
>>
>> And get that man with double chin
>> Who'll always cheat and always win,
>> Who washes his repulsive skin
>> In women's tears:
>>
>> And smash his desk of polished oak
>> And smash his hands so used to stroke
>> And stop his boring dirty joke
>> And make him yell.
>>
>> Slough
>>
>> by John Betjeman (1906 - 1984)
>>
>> John Betjeman published his poem about Slough in 1937 in the collected
> works
>> Continual Dew. Slough was becoming increasingly industrial and some
> housing
>> conditions were very cramped. In willing the destruction of Slough,
> Betjeman
>> urges the bombs to pick out the vulgar profiteers but to spare the bald
>> young clerks. He really was very fond of his fellow human beings. Slough
> is
>> much improved nowadays and he might be pleasantly surprised by a stroll
>> there.
>>
>> http://www-cdr.stanford.edu/intuition/Slough.html=
>
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