All Poems
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And you will claim
© Ivan Donn Carswell
And you will claim we need more births to keep
our population mix in check while natures truths
suggest there are too many of us yet?
And you will make the claim with good intent,
The Destroyer
© Lola Ridge
I trail my fingers along the Alps
And an avalanche falls in my wake…
I feel in my quivering length
When it buries the hamlet beneath…
And The Piper Dreams
© Ivan Donn Carswell
And the Piper dreams as he pipes up in his mind
colours in choral horizons distant, of courtliness dimmed in time,
at the puddling waters edge he stands spread square and neat
and blows a lambent dirge, a frisson to the hatchling-surf
I Thought I'd Served Her Long Enough
© Walther von der Vogelweide
I thought I'd served her long enough,
and sat dejected and confused
Almost taste the flavour
© Ivan Donn Carswell
It was a fat-tyred 4WD utility hard back,
the sort of ute youd expect a contractor
to drive, except it was plastered with tacky
stickers, and no genuine subby does that.
Ah, that Murphy girl
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Lets talk about the weather then,
would that help you take your ease?
Gossip is so rare from you
the noise of falling leaves is louder than
your breathing; if breathing is whatever is
sustaining you.
In Memory Of The Late John Thornton, Esq.
© William Cowper
Poets attempt the noblest task they can,
Praising the Author of all good in man,
And, next, commemorating Worthies lost,
The dead in whom that good abounded most.
After the rain
© Ivan Donn Carswell
And in the morning when the sun returns
to claim the earth the mist surprises, rising
unabashed and clean again to grace the
nascent waiting skies after the rain.
© I.D. Carswell
Admire their style
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Im reading fellow poets blogs today,
a sustaining source of entertainment;
I admire their style without exciting comment
or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though
it is to sigh about uneasy affirmation.
Fragments from "Under The Lilacs".
© Louisa May Alcott
"So he took up his bow,
And he feathered his arrow,
And said, 'I will shoot
This little cock-sparrow.'"
Ad Invasions
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Advertisements, theyve trashed the web,
somehow theyve gotten into bed
with common sense; ubiquitous
and so intense, insistent
Death
© George Herbert
Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing,
Nothing but bones,
The sad effect of sadder grones:
Thy mouth was open, but thou couldst not sing.
Absorbed in familiar rhythms
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Absorbed in familiar rhythms,
carillon of senses steeped
in good vibrations, surrounded
by musical beat
A monument in words
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Perhaps they cant compete these dry and dusty counters
of the grains of sand, theres more evoked within a ball of
dimpled clay on any day a sculptor lends his hands to shape
a face; I am pleased to read the poet rather than the man
and will not place my future faith in such abstruse scatology.
© I.D. Carswell
The Wandering Pilgrim
© Matthew Prior
Will Piggot must to Coxwould go,
To live, alas! in want,
Unless Sir Thomas say, No, no,
Th' allowance is too scant.
The Morning Watch
© Jones Very
'Tis near the morning watch, the dim lamp burns
But scarcely shows how dark the slumbering street;
A final journeying
© Ivan Donn Carswell
And through a pall of sadness
feel he still walks tall and talks
to us with commonsense and
passion deep to stir our souls.
A few kind words
© Ivan Donn Carswell
A few kind words, what can be bought with that?
In essence just a clique of tidy prose,
a verb, a noun, perhaps an adjectival phrase
offered in the form of venal praise
