Tuesday Poem: "Celebration" by Andrew M. Bell

Kookaburras start every morning with laughter.

Magpies are innately comic,

strutting about in waistcoats

like squires inspecting the estate.

Twenty-eights are flying surprises,

exploding from the trees like abstract art.

Willy wagtails cavort to unheard rhythms.

Up on the wire, a party of galahs

mock stony-faced people in serious cars.

Butcherbirds soft-shoe shuffle

for an unappreciative audience

of trouble-tranced commuters.

Wattlebirds limber up their throats

with unholy imitations of industrial noise.

Robins interpret the sun in miniature. 

As I walk down to the dam,

lemon and peppermint fragrances

carry their aspirations on the rising dew.

Herons go lazily aloft like paper kites

while frogs taunt the swamp hens

with marshland gossip. 

Surrounded by this joie de vivre

I wonder why our desires are many

when our needs are few.

Have we lost our invitation

to the celebration of the world?

For more information about the poet, Andrew M. Bell, see:

http://ambell4.wixsite.com/andrew-m-bell-author

Tuesday Poem: "Morning Song" by Sylvia Plath

Love set you going like a fat gold watch. 

The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry

Took its place among the elements. 

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue. 

In a drafty museum, your nakedness

Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I’m no more your mother 

Than the cloud that distils a mirror to reflect its own slow

Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath

Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:

A far sea moves in my ear. 

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral 

In my Victorian nightgown. 

Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try

Your handful of notes; 

The clear vowels rise like balloons.

by Sylvia Plath

For more information about the poet, Sylvia Plath, see:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/sylvia-plath

Tuesday Poem: "Born To Be Mild" (A Parody with apologies to the band, Steppenwolf) by Andrew M. Bell

Photograph Copyright 2018 Andrew M. Bell

Get your mobility scooter runnin'

Head out on the highway

Lookin' for a toilet

Or whatever comes I’ll take

Yeah, Senior, go make it happen

Take the footpath in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

Then go have a little lie down

I used to smoke like lightning

And now I snore like thunder

Racin' with incontinence

And the feelin' that I'm under…the weather

Yeah, Senior, go make it happen

Take the hospital in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

Then have a nice cup of tea

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be mild

We can climb so high

I think I’m gonna die

Born to be mild

Born to be mild

Get your scooter runnin'

Head out to the Bingo

Lookin' for adventure

And a big win on the Lotto

Yeah, Senior, go make it happen

Take arthritis in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

Then fall asleep in front of Coro Street

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be mild

We can climb so high

Sometimes I nearly die

Born to be mild

Born to be mild

Born to be Wild (recorded by Steppenwolf)

Song Writer: Mars Bonfire aka Dennis Edmonton 

Tuesday Poem: "The Persian Version" by Robert Graves

Truth-loving Persians do not dwell upon
The trivial skirmish fought near Marathon.
As for the Greek theatrical tradition
Which represents that summer's expedition
Not as a mere reconnaisance in force
By three brigades of foot and one of horse
(Their left flank covered by some obsolete
Light craft detached from the main Persian fleet)
But as a grandiose, ill-starred attempt
To conquer Greece - they treat it with contempt;
And only incidentally refute
Major Greek claims, by stressing what repute
The Persian monarch and the Persian nation
Won by this salutary demonstration:
Despite a strong defence and adverse weather
All arms combined magnificently together.

by Robert Graves

 

For more information about the poet, Robert Graves, see:

 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/robert-graves