Last Of My Poems For A While


I wandered lonely through a crowd

Lost in thought not thinking aloud

When something worthy of mention

Suddenly got my attention

An elegant, stately man crossed my path

Gave me a nod and then a laugh

And continued on his way

Till the mills of chance came into play

And we met again in a cafe down Kings Cross way

I remembered his laugh and the smile in his eyes

So a conversation was no surprise

Concerning far more than the weather

As we nurtured a conference together

How was he dealing with the virus? I asked

What outcomes flow from being unmasked?

Where does mankind go from here?

And can wisdom survive current fear?

His answer rocked the awareness around me

And destroyed the barriers that often surround me

In ways unknown before

It changed my view of life what’s more

“Which virus?” he asked with a gleam in his eye 

“A pandemic’s here that will not make you die.

“It fills our world with arrant deception

“In a quest for success without exception.

“So while I acknowledge that COVID exists,

“We must never forget that another bug persists.”

“An ugly danger that haunts our every hour

“It is man’s endless quest for power.”

Time brought an end to our meeting

With the chance for further talk fleeting

In the course of time we went our way

But still I have one more thing to say;

I may seem to belong to the vile bar sinister

But I think that man was our Prime Minister


Once in a dream when wide awake

I started to think for humanity’s sake

What life would be like when I’m dead

So I pondered on what lies ahead

With many reasons for cheerlessness

As my life’s not marked by fearlessness

I soon felt quite depressed

It was clearly no time to jest

Weapons were a first thought that unfurled

There are so many in our troubled world

They would surely lead to war

But a voice within me denied it and closed that door

A golden age came next to mind

A boom in the market with profit defined

But something in my heart left a reverse impression

Sometime or other there’ll be a depression

Then I let my mind run another way

Here’s what my inner voices had to say

It was the sky; the sky was falling

And denial on climate was appalling

How could I stop despair from forming

When so many fools denied global warming?

Ah me!

But the day went on despite this fuss

As my thoughts backfired like a blunderbuss

Until I met a child, the kind with temperament mild,

Who spoke to me like a lost soul reconciled

“Sir,” he said, “you look so pale. Are you well?”

He was a pupil, after the go home bell

Suddenly I had found a friend

Who brought my pondering to an end

A new page in my book

Showed me the way if I dared to look:

Every tomorrow will need a sharing

Like an innocent child compassionately caring


I am an actor and here’s my news

I’ve learnt to stand in other people’s shoes

I feel the pain deserved by no man

When I play the role of Willie Loman

There I must understand myself

What it feels like to be left on the shelf

At another time I could be Pozzo

When I find myself waiting intently for Godot

Here I’ll convey an empty existence

Where nothing happens despite my insistence

Or perhaps King Lear could demand my false rule

As there I must play an arrant fool

Folly I’d convey as a way of living

And nature portray as unforgiving

And so all my world is indeed a stage

I deal in emotions from desire to rage

Observing humanity without vanity

Walking somewhere between trust and insanity

Until reality finds its place

And reminds me I’m part of the human race

Suddenly I realise there is pain off stage

There are other entities I need to engage

Refugees for example treated as dirt

Give me a script and such grief I’ll avert

And what of the white supremacist sadness

Write me the words to destroy that madness

Then war victims I long to save

Peace is my offering to spare the brave

Do you see the unique place in life for me?

It’s the gift of loving with empathy


I have been rarely perfect in my ways

Despite the multitude of my days

Now I am old and in from the cold

There are certain faux pas you need to be told

For of some things I am not very proud

Here are some of the sins I’ve allowed

I’m an entrepreneur with morality somewhat lax

Who made his pile and paid no income tax

Made insider deals until blue in the face

And became a disgrace to the human race

Then there was Whitlam who got the sack

I helped get him sacked alas alack!

Accepting the whims of autocracy

To sound the knell of democracy

Next I mention the Vietnam War

I supported a war people now deplore

I swallowed like a sheep allowed to meander 

Robert McNamara’s propaganda

Disaster came and a nation cried

And many many humans died

Another thing now courts disgust

One politician got my trust

And a vote that crushed my soul

Amidst global warming he brandished coal

Now I add my support for privatisation

Profit not service to civilisation

Once we people owned so many things

Now they belong to cabbages and kings

So there you have it, some of my misdemeanours 

I’ve taken dirty linen to the cleaners

Yet times change and before my life ends

I have just seized a chance to make amends

So now a flower’s growing in my dump

I’ve written a book to praise Donald Trump


Sport these days is just a commodity

And that to some is an ugly oddity

It IS just for the sake of a ribboned coat

That keeps the moneyed business afloat

Pay up pay up and play the game

Defeat is deadly and brings you shame

Breathes there a man with soul so dead

Who forgets if we lose we’ll be in the red

The spirit of kindness doesn’t exist

You must fight the war and never desist

Private enterprise makes the rules

All the players are merely tools

For winning whatever the cost

As defeat means a profit is lost

So here’s to the heroes from each hall of fame

The ones that make money just from their name

Let the battle rage at the coming of age

Of teams that condone the rage

Watch the winner climb to the highest rung

And manage the minds of the fervent young

Who believe the tales of administrators

And the media get rich infiltrators

To form a crowd that shrieks aloud

In a cause obscured by a profit cloud

So the year progresses with many fixtures

The contests are really nothing but mixtures

Of pain and gain and legerdemain

Where you have to win or go insane

For health it is a blessed thing beloved from pole to pole

Though if you are not fit enough, you’ll be on the dole

The vast crowds attending resemble a Roman mob

Smoke and trumpets complete the job

As history cries out for tradition

But all that there is is stark transition

Where winners are grinners defeating the sinners

And losers don’t rhyme


No murder in the news today

No ghastly car crash on display

No man shot in a carpark

No rape in the after-dark

No children drowned in the ocean

No deadly party commotion

No kidnap and a missing child

No grave by louts defiled

How boring life is!

I shall just have to listen to music


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