The Moon of Venus
You who are going to Venus:
There is a third man who has waited
for thirty one years.
Waiting is meditating.
He is the greatest Buddha
of us all.
Close to bliss
bask in his closeness.
There is a middle man.
He is waiting.
He is meditating.
Far from close
he is Pluto.
Third man is Venus.
There is one who has long basked.
She is the Moon of Venus.
She loves bold patterns
in two colours.
One is always darker than the other.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
B: XIIII: Last Thoughts Ordered
Regular glimpses of truth
Provided by vocation
Kept regret at bay.
I neglected funeral arrangements.
No no-man's-land exists
In my line of work,
Sudden death's a hazard.
I have one last poem to glimpse.
I am being taken
At approximately the same age
At which pleasure-seekers
Should be taken
If long regret
And its vocation of tomb arrangement,
Instead of changed vocation,
Is not to set in.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
sms on 'Coriolanus
A petty turn turns foe to friend
And likewise friend to foe. (IV.iv - paraphrase)
Menenius Agrippa died- What time saved
Did I bid SPELL
Did not have SPELL bid me - (aside)
So Fiennes penned;
Lived on-penned Avon Bard.
Coriolanus fell by Shakespeare's pen
Not swinging wildly with Ralph's blade
But bladeless in cold blood.
With William writhing in his plot,
Scolding, 'What right to write such rot? ! '
And Ralph his endings firm defending-
Suicide and swordfight hot-
Let's leave the two with hope unending,
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
M: VI: The Lover of Cowardice
Surviving the suffering
That had accompanied the exit
Of early gods,
Despite scorn, satire and pity,
I succeeded in making another
Out of suffering itself.
Having seen my predicament
As the result of bad luck
I was able to maintain my pride.
I did not hate,
Merely resented.
I was not deterred
By being ridiculed, mocked, belittled,
And picked at by someone
In more addicted straits
Than even I,
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Awhatthef..kia
'What ho? There ain't no bears down here, '
Said Robert Falcon Scott,
'I'll call it Anobearia.'
Back in acadamia
They translated it to Greek,
Called the place Antarctica,
That's still the name we speak.
What a shame he didn't honour
The flightless polar bird
And call it Apenguinia.
That name might have stuck-
Unless the Greeks had seen the bird
And called it whatthef..k.
In Greek that's ti-oto,
The land Ati-otoa.
Arty-ottowa.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Flick-Knife Incident
After the argument
'Helen said'. 'Granny said'.
'Paul said'. 'Granny said'.
'Larry asked'.
Granny,
Who is Mrs Devereux,
Pulled out a flick-knife.
'! ', 'Helen said'.
'Helen asked'. Granny (lengthily replied) .
'Helen asked'. Granny (abruptly replied) .
'Helen asked'. 'Her grandmother said'.
'Larry said'. 'Paul said'.
'Larry asked', 'Does Declan know? '
'Granny said'.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
B: XV: Mission de Chef + Love the Love I Love + Holey Seat
Mission de Chef
Out of strong desires
I want to make a sauce
The sum of whose desires
Is greater than desires.
I will then subtract desires,
Label what is left as 'CHARM',
And find out if it works on love,
If it leads to love's demise,
Too weak without,
yet outlasting strong desires.
Love the Love I Love
You say you love me
You say you can't love her
I love her
Her love is what makes me
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Heil Heissscheisser!
I'd flicked through 'The Naked and the Dead'
But hadn't ever read it.
I saw a Mailer under ROMANCE
That I couldn't credit.
I rely on serendipity
To find a book to read.
I picked it up and had a flick...
...the big post-winter bee pee need.
'The Castle in the Forest'
Is what the book is named:
About the origins of Adolf.
'Read me, ' it proclaimed.
Little Adi Shitler
Is what his brother called him,
For his habit with his poo.
Little Adi Scheisser
Is another name would do.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Emma's Dell
A poet roamed by rushing brook
Early springtime morning. The sound
Seemed softer than it should,
Tempered by, tempering,
Eager buds, new greens all around.
Still bare trees, they tempered too.
Contrast breeds content.
Then round a turn mad rushing brook
Maddened beast and bird.
Sound seemed of the air-
Like air, would never cease.
Green seemed of the rocks.
Content is content.
A cottage overlooked the brook.
'My thoughts at least are mine.
I've told them to the shepherds.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
After 'A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags
In company of quite different take
The poet went out dawdling
Down by Grasmere Lake.
Dead calm the lake, no wind.
With no Joanna to mock
At the base of the rock,
All three flew fancy free,
William and Dorothy, STC,
Idled in the land of Poesy:
Osmunda fern became a Naiad Queen,
A fisherman miraged ahead
Was Freedom at his leisure.
But when up close, their fancies fled,
Self-reproach replaced their pleasure.
The fisherman was sick and gaunt,
Freedom just a taunt,
Dead the lake, no care.
[...] Read more
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!