"buckingham" poems
It's London, all the time,
when at night I close my eyes,
it's when and where I get to roam and dwell,
in the city I know inside-out so well,
where all the narrow streets and cobbled stones,
teacups, pint glasses, and fresh scones,
lend themselves into the misty English air,
of London's ancient, yet so modern flair,
of Piccadilly, and Hyde Park Corner's box,
riding Black Cabs, or a big Red Double-Bus,
evening gas-lamp walks with ol' Saucy Jack,
fish and chips and shandys for a perfect snack;
then the changing of The Guard at Buckingham,
where native Cockney's and young mums with prams,
gather for a view of Lizzy's Royal Family Show;
but, my, how rich the April sun sets and does glow,
over the rolling raging river Thames of yore,
where ancient Roman armies marched to shore,
proclaimed: LONDINIUM! -the regal rest,
of civilised peoples and the Royal Crests,
where lives and deaths would go and come,
yet The City despite all odds has lost and won,
in the hearts, souls and minds of all who take,
great London as their true hearth and home to stake,
and arise and fall the poet's versing nights and days,
whilst Big Ben chimes his toll in the foggy haze;
and alas, London from my slumber dissipates,
to that of which I yearn and love, asleep or wake,
knowing where my home of soul-keep lies divine:
in London, my dear London; it's London, all the time.
______
London:
http://beautyineverything.com/3366195864
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 7:31 PM UTC
Earlier on tonight
I came within this close of losing my life
On Buckingham Palace Road.
He was doing 50 and I wasn't wearing any lights.
And like freshly cut spaghetti
Relief took over fright
The car drove past and the man had a face like this...
But I was too busy thanking my lucky stars
For coming out tonight.
And if I'd died tonight, everyone would have said.
"Ahhh what a shame. But...it was late at night and...and he didn't have any lights....so...y'know."
And the man doing 50 would probably have said he was doing thirty and just didn't see me.
I'd have hated to have died like that.
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 5:25 PM UTC
THE COMMONWEALTH GAMES
THE QUEEN'S BATON RELAY
THE POETRY OF QUEENSLAND
IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE TODAY
MY BOOK IS IN THE PALACE
MY LETTER FROM THE QUEEN
PROMOTING OUR BEAUTIFUL STATE
LIKE NEVER EVER SEEN
I AM A BRISBANE POET
THE QUEEN HAS MY BOOK
THE BATON RELAY HAS STARTED
BY HOOK OR BY CROOK
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
originally it reads as:
**** i am drunk: do sudoku drunk!
what a ******
x x x x x x x x x
x 7 6 x 5 9 3 x x
x x 8 x 7 x x 1 x
x x 2 x 1 x x 5 x
x x x 3 x 7 1 2 x
1 6 9 x 2 x x x x
x x x 4 x 1 7 8 x
9 4 x 7 x x x 6 x
x 5 x 6 x x x x x
now i really want to learn something,
but i don't seem to want to...
the end result?
3 1 5 8 4 6 9 7 2
2 7 6 1 5 9 3 4 8
4 9 8 2 7 3 5 1 6
7 3 2 9 1 8 6 5 4
5 8 4 3 6 7 1 2 9
1 6 9 5 2 4 8 3 7
6 2 3 4 9 1 7 8 5
9 4 1 7 8 5 2 6 3
8 5 7 6 3 2 4 9 1...
bu there's a narrative to mind...
the ) game,
half an hour's worth of game after inserting
the first six -
(a
b) matrixes -
the theta-phi debate crosswords and blind-spots -
but the narrative goes like this:
a. 7 1
1 5 )
x 7 1 2
"zooming in with a nibbled into 6",
b. 5 | 5
7
1
x
x 2 x
x
x
x
c. 2nd 5
6 x x 4 x 1 7 8 x (5)
d. 1st 5
5 x x 4 x 1 7 8 x
9 4 x 7 x x x 6 x
x 5 x 6 x x x x x
e. x x x x x 2 x x x
x 7 6 | x x x | 9 4 x
x x 8 1 6 9 x 5 x
f. x x x
x 5 9
x 7 x
x 1 x x 5 x
3 x 7
5 2 x
4 x 1
7 x 5 7 8 5
6 x x
(more than or haczyk, or háček
a hook: in saying: oi! geezer!
traffic that 'un!
but still more than or less
than in Copernican lingua?
dunno... well: that's two smokin' barrels' worth
of info for the inauguration -
'cos' pretty face over 'ere was half a wit's know-churn
off a ***** 'now what i mean?'
they necessarily say it in sprechen glutton Danzig
so you look smart, and not like some artful dodgy
podger:
n'es pas? twinkle tweezer ****
oi right and that ****** off came with the touch
of a knuckle: 'cos' i wasn't preaching trigonometry:
nor was i ******* kidding.
down the east end they call us Vlad-sodden
impaler imperialistic -
after the little debacle we 'av a laugh and drink
a bottle of *****
then we do the rickety chance of engaging in
baptismal fire with the Jamaicans -
or so you know. *well, wouldn't you believe it,
look how far being called vermin gets ya!*
all the way to Buckingham Palace me says!
and some dared to say: ransack Sicily.
blah ha ha... your's a tongue on the leash!
g. x - 4? / 3?
5
7
1
x - 4?
2
x
x
x
h. 6 2 x 4 x 1 7 8 5
6 2 x 4 9 1 7 8 5
6 2 3 4 9 1 7 8 5
(breakthrough point!)
i. 7
x
1
5
2
x
j. x 7 6 1 5 9 3 x x
k. 7 l. 7 m. 7
x x 4
1 1 1
5 5 5
2 2 2
x 3 3
8 8 8
6 6 6
9 9 9
n. 6 2 3 4 9 1 7 8 5
9 4 x 7 8 5 x 6 x
x 5 x 6 x x x 1 x
o. 6 2 3
9 4 x
8 5 x
p. 6 2 3 4
9 4 1 | 7
8 5 7 6
the 1st square: 6 2 3
9 4 1
8 5 7.
2nd square:
x x
3 x
x x
x x
1 x
x x
7 5
9 4 1
2 6 3
7 8 5;
q. square no. 2 anti linear:
4 9 1 4 9 1
7 8 5 : / v. 7 8 5
6 x x 6
ergo
4 9 1
7 8 5
6 3 2
3rd square:
7 8 5 7 8 5
2 6 3 | 2 6 3
x 9 x x 9 1....
subsequently: 8 5 7 6 3 2 4 9 1
hence: 1 6 9 5 2 x x 3 7
": 1 6 9 5 2 4 8 3 7
": 2 7 6 1 5 9 3 4 8
(interlude):
4 x 8 x 7 x x x(?)
r. x s. 7 3 2
2 x x x
4 1 6 9: 3
7 2
x 4
1 7
6 5
9 1
8 6
9
8
t. 1 then: 1
7 7
x 9
3 3
x 8
6 6
2 2
4 4
5 5
then 7 3 2
5 8 4
1 6 9 then 5 8 4 3 6 7 1 2 9
then 4 2
5 9
7 8
1 3
6
u. 7 3 2 x 1 x x 5 4
then
6 5 4 9 1 8
1 2 9 | 3 6 7
8 3 7 5 2 4
then
6
9
3
8 8 4 6
7 1 5 9
4 2 7 3
1
5
2
v. then 3 1 x 8 4 6 x 7 2
then 3 1 5 8 4 6 9 7 2 0
then the crescendo:
9 7 2
3 4 8
5 1 6 !
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
well... between listening
to the INFO WARS ban...
by the mainstream...
and listening
to Greig's
perfecto
in the hall of the mountain king...
and john williams...
london symphony orchestra
for *the emperor's throne room
scene*?
youtube was always my
testing alternative to
****** megastore listening
booths...
like replacing my ears with
a tongue...
i never actually tuned
in on youtube,
for the indie commentators...
i was always there for the music...
listening to these
content creators,
grovel a penny,
like some Oxfam offshoot?
not cool...
i was always there for
the foraging of music...
never the commentaries...
who said anything about
the commentaries?!
can't be bothered,
won't be bothered,
given that i've been doing this
scribbling for over 10 years,
and hven't been paid a
barnado's penny...
can't be ******* bothered,
mate...
burn in hell;
at this point, you don't dictate,
and... i don't tell you
what you must do...
welcome! free fall!
oh no... like my english neighbor,
he doesn't tell me when i can or can't
light my barbeque...
just so he can hang his washing!
**** off!
the only respected violence is
that against private property rights...
i'd cut his limbs off,
and then hang him off in a noose
composed of, his ******* tongue,
the next time,
he tells me i'm to inform him of
when i do my next barbeque,
prior to him doing his washing...
PRIVATE... PROPERTY... RIGHTS...
YOU ******* ENGLISH! ****
nor king, nor Buckingham Palace
janitor!
**** OFF!
you even know what itchy teeth
implies?
i beg to differ:
you don't want to know,
but i'll let you know;
it implies a desire to own
a pig farm;
and we known what the economics
of pork looks likes...
now apply that in reverse,
to hide, cannibalism.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
Almost like a mirror to
Look at you. A sort of Alice on the other side
Of the looking glass.
You are a reflection I never thought might exist.
But there are flaws spiderwebbing cracks into the glass,
The picture so minutely cracked here and
There that it might all just
Fall out of the frame.
Words, picked like highhanging fruit,
Stack and
Form the
Edges of your
Mind--
brilliant walls of Buckingham but also the boxes of fruit
(high hanging like the words) floating down congolese waters
and into the heart
--of Darkness? only kurtz knows
but does it matter? still Grand as ever--
They're words I see in myself on my side
And music from Mechanicsburg Anchorage Dar es Salaam
sings down the same Congo we share
But the only cracks I see are with me.
Your words and wit are the envoys,
Celebrated diplomats from the Heart that lies
downriver.
eyes flash and the Fruit is bountiful and
Hail the heart (wherever whatever it is down the River).
The words are strong as the man who sent them
(somewhere in the Heart)
Such strength to speak and shout
Respect commandeddemanded in the fruit
I often wonder if I have it.
And each time I know I don't
Another crack is born.
the tally man sends his beautiful fruit--
strong as everforever
To the world, smileonface and gleamineye--
and you're him
on the other side
at the Heart.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Today a baby boy was born
The future heir to the British throne
Remember July 22nd was the date
Proud parents William & Kate
Every child born today will receive a Silver Penny
A collectors item, for so many
First we watched William & Kate marry
He has a really cool Uncle in Prince Harry
I bet he will show him some tricks
A bouncing baby boy 8lb 6,
A baby, a toddler, then into a little nipper
Look after him Auntie Pippa.
We will watch him grow up and ready to take his place
The news confirmed on the easel at Buckingham Palace
Well done to Kate Middleton
To us a Prince, to you a son.
Prince Charles is your Grandad
The Paparazzi will go mad
One day old and already on Twitter trending
Who will help, with the Royal winding
William & Kate must be so happy
One hopes One's been practicing changing a *****
Born in St Mary's, Lindo Wing
A child that will be our future King
Everyone is so happy for them
Born on a Monday 4.24pm
You're Great GrandMother is called Her Majesty the Queen
We'll watch him grow into a teen
For Prince Phillip four male generations
Now the country starts with the celebrations
The new addition to the Royal Family
The future of the British Monarchy
The Windsor family and the family of Middleton
A boy to bring them so much fun
Proud watching down over all times will be his Nanna
Brought up in the memory of Princess Diana
The name now we have to all guess
For now we call him His Royal Highness
For the country this brings so much joy
A beautiful, bouncing Royal Baby Boy
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
party zone with johnny brown
johnny’ hi dudes and welcime to the 2nd party zone for 2016 and tonight we are going
to party real hard and our first party dude is lorraine
lorraine’ i want to be so happy
i want to be so cool
i want to drink scotch on the rocks following a lovely bbq
i am very happy as happy as can be
i don’t know why i am so happy
i only know i am, party on dudes
johnny’ yeah you look like you are ready to party tonight
lorraine’ it’s the end of the working week, why not
johnny’ ok here is patric weezer
pattrick’ one sheep two fish red fish blue fish
going ba ba ba every ****** where
five sheep six sheep silver sheep black sheep
you see it’s hard to become the black sheep of the family
nine fish ten fish isn’t that a dainty dish
to put before prince william on the way to buckingham palace today
eleven fish twelve fish
i wonder who i will find at the party for my best mate tom
it’s fine to have fish, especially down the coast with chips
johnny’ are you creative
patrick’ yeah, i am an artist and a writer and a youtube entertainer, i am cool
johnny’ ok here is harry with a great rhyme
dave bought a honday for his best friend rhonda
to make her pretty wealthy
dave bought a honda
and he will make it a party
yeah, we will get down and boogie and say oh lay
hey little old lady
pretty pretty baby
saying
dave bought a honda for his aunty flo who went home to make pumpkin scones for joh
but joh didn’t want any cause he ws too right wing
dave bought a honda from adelaide and every night we say dave bought a honda for everyone around oh dude
johnny’ yeah what a great one, but your choice of politicians, ya know a bit old and dead
harry’ yeah, but i am 56 years old and i still want to party
johnny’ here is another party song from kenneth
kenneth’ 16 pounds to buy a car with
it is a very cheap car if it costs that much
a dollar bill to buy a car mat
cause it really protects your car floor
and aussie cent ain’t around anymore, cause it can’t afford anything no fear, so chuck it away my friend
a japanese coin is a wonderful coin
i notice how there is a hole in the middle, to stick your finger in, yeah
$16 is a lot ya see
you could buy an expensive tub of honey from the bee
so if you spend all this money now
just remember the tune from hello in the ‘80s with oh yeah bow bow
johnny’ thank you kenneth
kenneth, yeah, and i am ready to pardddy, now party dudes, have the best hangover cure if you are totally wasted tomorrow
johnny’ thank you kenneth and thanks dudes for enjoying party zone
catch ya later dudes
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
Paris is so beautiful, that it’s emotional,
like the red tile roofs of Rome,
or the Kenroku-en gardens of Japan.
It’s a relatively large world.
Whenever you can fly over an ocean
you feel limitless, and godly,
like the world is there for you, on demand.
Speaking of God-like views, I’m headed
to Lisa’s (parents) Manhattan highrise again
this year for Thanksgiving—six, very-long days
from today—and I have to wait—but I can’t wait.
I’m starting to stuff things into my bag, like a turkey.
There are so many holiday things to do in Manhattan.
Things that invariably whip you up for a sparkly Christmas.
But these are only commercial attractions—planned distractions.
One frosty November-break morning, two years ago,
a tide of clouds had rolled in, like a trillion tons of cotton
candy had been dumped on New York city, overnight,
filling it up to the 42nd floor. It glistened there, below us,
in the klieg-bright sun, like Tiffany diamonds on cotton.
So, imagine that, then add a flock of geese, in military-like
v-formation flying just at the crest of the glitter, like dolphins
hopping in and out of the waves, as they passed above the
insignificant works of man. It took my breath away.
So, naturally I grabbed for my fancy phone with its super-duper,
high-res camera. The snaps did the glorious scene poor justice—
the majestic, wild geese came out as dots on glare.
I’m watching things carefully this year, not just the multicolor, cachet, window displays on Fifth Avenue and the decorations at the Chelsea Market (where Oreos were invented). I’m going to capture this year
—every intense, emotional second—with that most unreliable, 3D
gadget of all—Memory.
.
.
A song for this:
Holiday Road by Lindsey Buckingham
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 11:45 AM UTC
I HAVE A CONNECTION TO
HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN
MY POEM FOR HER 90TH
IN HER REPLY SHE HAS SEEN
MY POETRY BOOK OF
QUEENSLAND OUR BEAUTIFUL STATE
IS GRACING THE HALLS
OF BUCKINGHAM PLACE
SO I DO BELIEVE I NOW
CAN DEDICATE THIS RHYME
TO A BEAUTIFUL LADY
WITHIN THIS MOMENT IN TIME
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:44 PM UTC
#iwishicould go to Buckingham Palace,
to dine & drink from a golden chalice;
#iwishicould be Her Majesty,
but #WhatsThePoint I'm only me
#iwishicould be the eyebrows of Gordon Brown,
and go so fetchingly up and down,
#iwishicould be #Nowplaying guitar,
or be a mighty megastar.
Apr 6, 2010
Apr 6, 2010 at 2:36 AM UTC
It's royal blue - it's a boy - the heir
the British throne
Buckingham Palace an awaken
bloom - a rebirth -
awaits a princely visit.
Blue - the prince is born -
a full moon, St. Mary's Hospital,
London - To the Duke and Duchess of
Cambridge.
Fear God - Honour the Queen!
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
now I, Anton, eldest and wisest,
I, nature-appointed leader by age and time,
I call this our first meeting to order
and each shall stand in silence as I read
out the rules and regulations
of this our BOYS ONLY order of OLD RUSSIA,
which I, as my first act as leader, shall name
the Anton Boys Only Group, the name obviously after myself…
And now, Artem stand still and stand at ease as Vladimir here is…
This pose with legs like a soldier's
and with hands at back, back in palm,
this is the way of the obedient follower
though I fear Artem may have a bit of Napoleon in him…
But Anton Boys Only Group we shall be
and in the streets we are destined to meet…
Now for the rules:
I am the leader and I’m always right;
you are the members of the group,
and you will always follow…
now, girls will not be allowed in this group
and no one is to come with any girls
here except me, with Galina once in a while
as she has recently been winking at me in class,
when I do attend class, that is,
and she has sent me notes
to meet her in the old shed past the fields
and once in a while, as I say,
she might be here on our way to said
location during which time
you will all keep guard
and remain as still as the Kremlin guards
or, as I’ve heard, the guards outside
****** England’s Buckingham palace.
Now, Viktor and Georgy, you are hereby fined five coins
for taking a casual attitude while I speak…
Artem, the tallest here after me,
you will be my bearer and cleaner
like carrying things I might have to carry
and dusting my coat before and after meetings
and for which I shall nominate you successor
should I run away with Galina to America…
We shall, however, always remain faithful to Mother Russia
and send you back information as and when necessary;
and also at each meeting, from hence,
each of you will bear gifts for the leader
(who, let me remind you, is myself)
like an apple, a tomato, eggs and sweets
and chicken pieces and such
as and when possible
but always at least one gift each
at each meeting as payment for the privilege
of my leadership;
and meetings will start promptly and be canceled as I wish;
and Vladimir and Bogdan and Andrey
you shall before each meeting, finish such field tasks
as my mother may have assigned me
and which I may then justly apportion to each one of you…
I do not anticipate any questions at this stage our first meeting
and so I announce this meeting over…
And Artem, you might want to dust the coat on my back…
but kindly do ensure your hands are clean first…
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 5:47 PM UTC
The white winged beast
Slices through the blue
Dominating all the cities that bow beneath
The creature leads as the best transportation tool
Passengers bask in opulence
Glancing at the miniature toy city
The passive scenery acts as reassurance
Since the wind gale sweeps the white cotton in pity
The jay sails to its nest
Gliding while checking for error
The landing signals a successful test
Safe from the perilous journey’s terror
The exotic passengers gaze in awe
The Cliffs of Dover, soldiers clad in red, Buckingham palace
All book text now raw
This dimension lacks common malice
The winged beast leaps
The destination: an unknown place
All the culture the sphinx keeps
No wonder many adore the ferocious face
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
Mildew, mold, cobwebs, rust, stench, trash, dead grass, window screens with holes & ****
Not things you'd find at buckingham palace.
Only in a home of bums.
Not a dream to last.
I want to move, I want to run.
Colorful Colorado....7 years Bad Luck
Snowflakes, frozen lakes, shoveling snow.
A cold for all to know.
I will never go back.
My ex boyfriend would strike & attack.
It was I he tried to choke out & ****
From 2006 to 2012.
Thinking of him makes me ILL.
Summer of elves.
Unloved & Taken for Granted. Raved & Ranted.
A haiku with thoughts of you.
I don't feel lucky with us two.
We never hold hands or embrace.
We never kiss each other's face
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 2:48 AM UTC
I see them walking down streets with names like
old buckingham
old gun road
westchester common street
robious
hugenaut
broad
grace frankling main cary
carry the weight of a group of ****** up **** ups
trying to "make a difference"
delusional *******
difference is made from killing a status quo
and their hands shake like childrens'
take a stake in the mental quake of the plasticity of the fake looking for mates
I'm tumbling down sure fall peak
free fall
until falling free is forgotten as a quest
childe roland to the dark tower came
yeah I went to college for a little bit there
broke out when I broke out of a sane frame of mind
swallow the sludge created by incontinent consumerists
snakes on trees make better friends than invisible fathers
but get these depressed lunatics out of my sight
feeling a fight bubbling up
complaints are for the complacent
so I don't see you
fear or hear no evil
evil makes good possible
using my vice versa as my vice
quoting bible quotes verbatim
I don't ft right
jigsaw piece chewed up by toddlers
jam me into place
and cover me in duct tape to silence the protests
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
We are all walking around in each other
(our bodies and breathing and sweat and
sneezes)
walking around in pieces of each other
unescapably we are
in each other
in the crudest way possible we are
in each other
(in Buckingham in front of Michelangelo paintings in Taj Mahal in Los Angeles in Sydney in paradise in your bedroom)
connected in an
(uncomfortable)
way we are all each other we are all one
don’t forget to breathe
we only have this chance once
breathe breathe breathe you are one
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
and sometimes magic, a scene from the book
of genesis, chapter verse whatever,
buying whiskey and beer in a supermarket,
the cashier, Tara, knows me,
she's my gym coach,
she tut tut struts and tuts when i buy
beer telling me to keep the beer off -
i told you alcoholics are mobile,
we go sightseeing most of the time,
on a double decker bus we bemuse and
lipread: and here's the Elizabeth tower (formerly
known as Benjamin "big **** Disraeli -
the English by the French after the 100
year war: if they're not retards, they're perverts) -
**** that shit's brushed off on me! am i a **********
if i hold dear a British passport? phew! no? yes? huh?!
i must be a Mr. Khan in waiting...
no, but seriously, a scene in the cave of an iceman,
5 lasses buying wine lonely,
me my beer my whiskey,
i get a lemon added / **** i told you it was a lime not
a lemon on the conveyor belt -
i get a lime, lucky Adam got an apple
and one asking, i'm doing double-up fevers waiting
for Saturday night with Paris, Hilda, Venus and Hera..
Adam gets an apple from smooch slick Eva
naked and i get a ******* lime on a conveyor-belt
in a supermarket while buying whiskey...
Jonah! call the whale! i'm sure we'll both
be calling it Noah's ark when tomorrow comes;
**** you not, we'll be boarding dry-land at
Arsuk - **** send a message to Columbus -
we discovered North America via Greenland
like you discovered the same via the Caribbean Islands,
ha ha! call it dynamo of Erik versus Kristopheren;
i just got a lime on a conveyor belt in a supermarket,
Adam was handed an apple in Eden -
i guess that's worth a 50 50 chance of coincidence
with my sex-starved libido and the English "roses":
not that i'm guarantying anything good either,
it's not like i'm a vacuum cleaner based guarantee -
but **** me, the ****** **** wrinkles and all,
bamboozle clad the salutary march for applause -
and the fainting bearskin trumpet-brigadier at
the ro- -yal parade onto Buckingham Ponce;
n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Somewhere near the globe
Where the ghost of Elizabethan actors
Still roam the streets
London Bridge Is Falling Down
I think about Buckingham Palace
Where the guards protect the queen
Who cries all the time
London Bridge is falling down
Somewhere close to Big Ben
Where the Westminster Chimes
Still haunt the ears
London Bridge is falling down
The prison cells in the Tower Of London
Where sacred life becomes apparition
And weeps at the thought
London Bridge is falling down
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Buckingham Palace?
Lydia's mother said
you want to take Lydia
to blooming Buckingham Palace?
she stood at her door
cigarette in her mouth
smoke rising to her eyes
making her squint
yes to see
the changing of the guards
I said
she looked at me sternly
what's your mother think
about you gallivanting
all over London?
she asked
I'm not gallivanting
we'll go by train
I said
she puffed out
smoke towards me
like some dragon
don't think her dad'd
want her going that far
the mother said
not far away by train
I said
LYDIA
she bellowed
over her thin shoulder
she gazed at me
the young boy
from the upstairs flats
and puffed harder
hair in rollers
the cigarette hanging
from her lips
Lydia came
beside her mother
yes?
Lydia said
this here boy
wants to take you
to blooming Buckingham
****** Palace
her mother said
did you know
about this?
Lydia shook her head
thin girl with lanky hair
brown and unkempt
no didn't know
Lydia said
gazing at me
can I go?
she said
go
go to the ****** Palace
who do you think you are?
blooming royalty?
the mother said
it's history
I said
help us to appreciate
being English
too far
the mother said
crossing her arms
over her small *******
where'd I get the money
for you two herbets
to go flying
all over the place?
we're not flying
I said
we're going by train
and I've money
my old man
gave me yesterday
for shining his shoes
Lydia gazed at her mother
then at me
her mother just
gazed at me
through smoke
and sighed
you'd better keep an eye
on her don't want her
going off getting lost
the mother said
she won't with me
I said
look after her
like she was royalty
I added
opening my jacket
and showing her
my 6 shooter toy gun
she was not impressed
don't be late my girl
or you'll feel my hand
on your backside
you understand?
Lydia nodded her head
I can go then?
just said so you silly mare
the mother said
gazing at me
with her smoke filled eyes
just be careful of her
she poked her thin finger
in my direction like a lance
then went back
inside the flat
we're going
to Buckingham Palace?
Lydia said
yes by train
I said
by train? she said
yes by train
I said
so she went in
to get a coat
and I stood
on the red brick doorstep
looking at the Square
thinking of the Palace
soon be there.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC
yellow light from the coach station
against marble houses-that we wish
we could buy- reminds me of the silver
moon we watch when we’re high.
now I’m crying into the duvet
and feeling far away from whispered
happy compliments I don’t know how
to describe you but you’re mine but
it’s time for a forest fire to still the fire
in my heart. I start to want to hold you
forever though my forever is over
my love, my never again. feeling your body
pulse with each sleeping breath reminding
me of death and I don’t want you to go.
I like being bad when I’m with you, sad
though it might seem when we dream
and you ask me to speak french when I’m
smoking cigarettes, trying to forget the plans
we made. we plan to go to europe because all
our dreams sparkle under the weekend skies,
you sigh, I can’t get back from here, my dear,
I fear I don’t know what’s real anymore,
what to feel anymore. your broad shoulders,
we’re getting older, they wrap around me &
your eye lids flutter, reminding me of a kind of
innocence we have yet to discover, my lover.
now the sun is beating down on london parks
where we sit and talk and dream, it seems
you are so beautiful reading kerouac,
what a cliché but we’ll get away, by megabus,
counting our change, courting our lust,
on 5 hour bus journeys from city to city
ambitions to home, joy to pity.
cuddling to britpop, we keep popping
pills and thrills and whatever is going.
don’t go, I know I’m a romantic
(you have no idea) your passions kills
and your mind excites, I might have to die
tonight, I might. I want you in the kitchen-
I can never untie my shoelaces- living on shoestrings,
tightropes and other things, I think that drinking
in cinemas could be a new favourite pastime,
are you still mine? drowning in wine, I know
I cry too much, but touch me. that night we went
out in your car to the docks, no stars, but you still
shone for me. buckingham palace is against a grey
sky tonight, against us but we still try- england is mine,
england is mine. we don’t usually kiss in public.
I used to spend a lot of time in the cathedral,
scribbling poems in the crypt, hoping something
would stick, but we drift towards a moment now,
my muse. you use me. red flowers in the buckingham
palace breeze, I breathe in daydreams of paris and patti smith
I keep rehearsing my life, it seems.
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC
The dead embrace the dirt
They will never sprung like
April tulips, on a frigid day,
Or survive as long as Hyperion roots
*(The beginning of love is horror
of happiness (quote: Robert Bly)*
So, let my poetry filled you up: with the knowing
(The dead are for morticians & butchers
to touch. Only a gloved hand)
before the dust….and ashes
Be more afraid of the living,
with their cold and warm hands
and deceitful minds above all things
they spit and vinegar tongues
The living embraces the struggle of staying alive
Due to the many heartache and sorrows
~~~
*(When those we love betray our trust,
We find the depth of human pain;
Oh, let me rise above these hurts
Until the sun shines, once again!
~Gertrude Tooley Buckingham, "My Prayer" (1940s)*
*
So , let my poetry filled you up with knowledge of knowing
The dead cannot harm you any more,
Way down upon the earth floor,
Let the tulips once again bloom
However, let the earth worm do the rest.
Under the tallest tree in the world: coast redwood
Hyperion:
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 10:26 AM UTC
The Lonely Loon©
Long before my daily ritual begins
Your call as distinctive as any sound on the lake
Beckons me with your unique overture
Each day like clockwork I see you there
Bobbing like a cork on the shimmering lake
On guard like a sentry at Buckingham palace
As I meander down the long rocky spit
We eye each other like boxers in a ring
One step past the mythical line you have created
And you will take flight to your safe haven
We are so much alike seeking our solitude
Drawing lines in the sand that shall not be crossed
For now we cautiously examine each other’s presence
Respectful of the boundaries we have set
One wrong move on my part and…
There will be a flapping of wings
Like a plane making its initial ascent
Soon you will be out of sight
Until tomorrow,
See you then my friend
Andreas Simic©
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 9:38 AM UTC
Jungle bells are ringing out
across the nation, Boris is to
play Santa Claws this year,
so, reinforce your stockings.
Corbyn is going to be Scrooge
in The Christmas Carol, hoping
to cook Johnson's goose which
he will share with the hungry.
Arlene Foster will be filling
the empty pies with minced
words which are to be served in
Bowler Hats avec blue berries.
Sturgeon is going to Hog as
Many votes as possible while
the rest are gorging to the Pogues
Fairytale of New York & London.
The Lib-Dems have an anthem
by Jo Swine Song about spit
roasting a Pig in the stocks
outside Downing St. Syndrome.
The Greens are looking for this
years largest Cucumber which
they have decided to stuff. They
have declined to say where.
Cymru Plaid's have decided to
make woollen scarves for the
homeless Corgi's after the Queen
is evicted from Buckingham Palace.
Nigh Gel Farage is going to
lubricate a Tusk and shove it up
Barnier's (( in the presence of
Jean Claude Coke Nose Junkier.
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 6:48 AM UTC