Monday Monday
The Litter God retreats in his
Grey boat
Tuesday Tuesday
I wake alone
Wednesday Wednesday
I worry about the alarm clock
Thursday Thursday
Judy Dog is expecting
A more exciting day than it turns out
Friday Friday
There are no reservation tickets
In Carriage B
On the Newcastle to King’s Cross express
There is much confusion
And a hint of annoyance
Saturday Saturday
Suspense is a four letter world
Sunday Sunday
Time for the repeats
The Eric Clapton Dream
Eric Clapton
Sits in the corner
Of the school hall
Guitar in hand
The children
Are waiting
While I search
For the poem
I am about to read
After a long time
The children
Get fed up waiting
And a teacher
Plays them a song
Finding the poem
Has taken all day
And the children
Have wandered away.
I apologise
For the delay
And promise to come back
For free
Another time
Meanwhile
Guitar god, Eric
Sits in a corner
Of the stage
A small group of children
Huddle round him
And he plays them a tune
On the electric piano
13 comments:
Crazy June nearly done - a very, very, very busy month. Then hopefully back to writing, even a spot of blogging. I seem to be averaging about two poems a month here - not very good at all.
Well, we're now living in London. The countryside it aint. But last week we strolled down to Tate Britain to look at some Turners and today we walked to the South Bank and watched Michael Rosen in his kids' show. Very funny.
I think Jill and I were the biggest kids there.
Well, best away to check out the vegetable casserole.
Bloggy hugs.
Good to see you back again, again. Lovely pomes - yes, dreams of guitar gods playing pianos. What does it all mean? My dreams are very vague these days - hard to remember anything about them. I think you have to train yourself to write them down as soon as you wake up. I used to but got out of the habit. I got good at writing lists though for a while- when I was going slightly bonkers!
It's weird that you are living in London now and walking aLONG THE SOUTH BANK ETC.OOOPS! sorry about that. something we did all the time. it seems to have been overwhelemd by tourists now. When we lived there it was very quiet and you could walk for miles without seeing many people eccept for the occassional jogger and old tramp.
Anyway- good luck with the house sale - hope it gets snapped up soon.
i always thought that eric really wanted to be billy preston!
Hi Roger good to hear from you, love the poems the first reminds me of a song (I'm no good at remembering its title)I was touched by the echos of Judy dog. The second is spot on for a dream and made me smile.
Regarding mine I filtered out one of the lips before sending it but the clechet slipped under under the net, the river idea's brilliant I wish I'd thought of it. Glad crazy June's relinquished her grip, we're floating around in Yorkshire so perhaps London's the place if you don't want to end up with rising damp.
x
It's the falling damp you have to worry about really at the moment! I think that song was by the Moaners And The Popers- a big hit in the 60's. They came back in the 70's with another called I Don't Like Mung Beans.
I'm very impressed with the first poem. After all, John Philips couldn't get past "Monday, Monday."
Love the two poems! especially the first which is a nice play with words!! Hope your doing fine Roger! :)
nice... charmingly evocative..
hope u are fine... i have shifted to singapore for college...
hey roger, how are you?
I like the easy flow of Monday Monday.
DEvil May Care Elbows
He flapped his devil-may-care elbows
Like a some gyroscopic chicken
On A Tread mill
He waggled his insulting knees
At the world weary side board
He jiggled his impertinent ears
At the lady by the bus stop
And scrambled his coded shins
By the left luggage office
Roger! I've been so out of it for too long! How are you! I'm in London by the way...have been all year...very bad of me not to say hello. back to India at the end of the month but should be back in 2 or so. HOpe things are good with you.
Devil-may-care elbows. Excellent. Sounds like it neds a good tune.
I hear it sung to a kind of ho-down- gospelly type jig with a bit of honky tonk trombone thrown in .
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