Hope poems

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This dismal place I hide my grief is crowded shame,
my father would have taught me tame my trembling lips
without contempt, face far constraints tight-lipped,
remain serene; I dream how well I played his silent game.

Mountains of Delight

© Ivan Donn Carswell

The problem was the manner of choice
(or whether there was a choice for that matter)
as you had taken those options to yourself,
choosing as you had to do, and as it was right for you,
there is no shame in that and no reproving,
but my alternatives were emptied by your doing.

Waiting For The Beloved -- English Translation

© Rabindranath Tagore

My dearest friend, for your tryst

You have chosen this stormy night

Retribution

© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer

When Egypt said, "Exterminate
The males among the Jews,
Fair Goshen's land make desolate
And bid them glad adieus:"

Why England Is Conservative

© Alfred Austin

Because of our dear Mother, the fair Past,

On whom twin Hope and Memory safely lean,

It is an abhorrent thing

© Ivan Donn Carswell

It is an abhorrent thing, this incarceration of your vulnerability,
profoundly cruel in the way you were beaten
to your knees, blithely unaware it was a battle lost
for your health and wellbeing. It was dreadful to witness

Persistence

© Walter Savage Landor

MY hopes retire; my wishes as before
Struggle to find their resting-place in vain:
The ebbing sea thus beats against the shore;
The shore repels it; it returns again.

Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast

© Charles Causley

Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast
Bought an old castle complete with a ghost,
But someone or other forgot to declare
To Colonel Fazak that the spectre was there.

I cannot let the moment pass

© Ivan Donn Carswell

I cannot let the moment pass without a weary greeting,
or retard the recent past where shadows still are fleeting,
Id sabotage the future by just staring in a mirror
and never let the glimmer pass and try to hold my image fast

Hostel Beach, Oneroa

© Ivan Donn Carswell

The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach,
if the tide was out youd reach a tiny bay beyond
the cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete
for blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood;

Having each of you as friends

© Ivan Donn Carswell

For more than 40 years weve been good friends,
since 1963 in fact, from college where we met
(and managed there to build a strong quartet
of campus friendship which kept those years intact,

Frogmouth biker

The biker was a menace on the farm, a madman bent
on speed, intent on leaving all for dead (it was fortunate
he never left the shed). This biker was a frogmouth owl,
a petrol head who sought to ride the biggest, baddest bike

Burns

MY OWN WILD BURNS! these rude-wrought rhymes of thine
In golden worth are like the unshapely coin
Of some new realm, yet pure as from the mine
And Art may well be spared with such alloy
As dims the bullion to improve the die!

Dreams of a lifetime

Ronald Hi Khong Wong is gone,
sadly he deceased
the commencement of this week.
It wasnt unexpected.

Dead thoughts of corpses

The symbols that we use are T shirts of the dead
thoughts of corpses without heads, a rictus
without sound open-mouthed, empty, unbound.
And if you ever write those clichés which incite
my approbation, fuck you, I am not amused.
And if I ever do, then fuck me too.