Published Poems 6

Hospital

Poem First Published  “The NHS Experience”  Anchor Books  Jan 1997


Hospital… I didn’t like it!
Being ill, in hospital… I didn’t like it!
Driving, to the hospital… I didn’t like it!
Visiting someone sick in hospital… I didn’t like it!

Having an operation in hospital… I didn’t like it.
Recovering after an accident, in hospital… I didn’t like it.
My wife being in hospital… I didn’t like it.
My daughter being in hospital… I didn’t like it.

My Dad was in hospital… I didn’t like it.
My Grandad was in hospital. He died. In hospital… I didn’t like it.
A friend was in hospital… I didn’t like it.
My wife had my baby daughter in hospital… I didn’t like it.
(The hospital not the baby!)

That odious smell of disinfectant in hospitals… I don’t like it.
The shiny floors that make your shoes squeak. In hospital… I don’t like it.
Extortionate car park rates at hospitals… I don’t like it.
To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I like hospitals. But,
May we thank God for the doctors, the nurses who work
In hospitals even if I don’t like them (the hospitals that is…)

The work they do is second only to God himself.
Couldn’t we have nurses in libraries or something?
Did I say I don’t like hospitals?

© tcmoon 2011 (1996)


Was It He?

Poem First Published  “Jewels Of The Imagination”  The International Library Of Poetry”  Spring 1997

Was it he? My door was open;
And his unfiltered life beckoned me to call upon;

Was it he? The visitor of the darkness
That uttered such lightness of being,
A neon cascade-like the globular reach
Whetting an appetite for thine own peace?

Was it he? An apparition of a life. Long past,
Unfettered by the centuries with pains of life,
Dwindled and dawdled nonchalantly
In an echo of a parallel world
That my mind succumbs to wantonly…

Was it he? The voice in the night,
A sphere so whisperingly daunted
And upon my life heralded such glories
Like a fleeting glance on untouchable beauty,
Reflecting an age tho’ bid me welcome…

…and then, as the shutters all slowly descended.
And the light is extinguished in an instant,
All pathways to Heaven denied me my soul
And I am left to wonder why, was it he?

© tcmoon 2011 (1996)


Babies Ain’t All Nappies And Cack!

Poem First Published  “Bundles Of Joy”   Anchor Books  Jan 1997

There is nothing more beautiful than a woman with child;
Till comes that ay – of birth – when that beauty’s thru to you.
The pleasure. The pain, that emotional whack!
But babies ain’t all nappies and cack!

There is nothing more wonderful than life’s very first day;
You’re emotionally charged tho’ that feeling doesn’t stay.
You may be first time parents but you soon learn that knack,
That your babies ain’t all nappies and cack!

There is nothing more creative than little one’s first words.
Is it mama? Is it papa or something that sounds so absurd?
And those special little moments, ha! on your shoulder they yack,
Proves beyond doubt, babies ain’t, all nappies and cack!

There is nothing more encouraging than an infant’s firsts steps.
Ad from tears of joy you are never exempt.
As a parent you will so soon be feeling, you’ve been sacked,
Which just goes to show babies, ain’t all nappies and cack!

And their lives will go on. They’ll grow and they’ll give you grief.
And you’ll be asking yourself “do I deserve any of this?”
But that’s part of the process in which there is no tact,
Do you know now why babies ain’t just, nappies and, poo! Cack!?

But hold on to those memories for they are rapidly gone;
Treasure every moment, it’s pleasure, it’s joy, hold dear that special bond
And remember with love, with fondness when you look back,
See, I told you, babies just ain’t just, nappies and cack!

Fatherhood is brilliant. You’ll be amazed if it’s a daughter
Then,  you may consider a son to come shortly after,
But you will have learned everything (or so), every pain, every fact
And feel proud, so proud that your babies ain’t
All nappies and cack!

Enjoy! Enjoy the life of your child where loving  must not lack
And remember  as my words echo, babies ain’t all nappies. And cack!

© tcmoon 2011 (1996)


I Respect…

Poem First Published  “Respect Too”  Poetry Now  Jan 1997


I respect the world in which I live;
I respect my peers.
I respect the sky above me;
I respect my living years.
I respect my parents, who gave me life;
I respect those times, of tears.
I respect my wife and family;
I respect all those dears.
I respect the things we all take for granted;
I respect all those fears.
I respect my experiences of life;
I respect all of life’s arrears.
I respect Nature, for my life;
I respect death as he quietly nears.

And; I respect animals who aid in our life.
I respect animals, try to save them strife;
I respect animals who make our world bright.
I respect all living things within my short sight;
I respect animals, for the life on Earth;
I respect all animals for what it’s worth.
I respect animals in Nature’s rebirth…
And I respect the animals, after all, they were here first!

I respect animals and especially those who are my pets.
I respect animals in, well, in all respects.
I respect animals, they never go to war.
All of our lives would be better, if we respected animals more!

Some animals will kill us if they see us. I respect that.
All animals keep Mankind going, from whales to a tiny rat…
Animals respect us, shouldn’t we pay that back?
Respect for animals cannot just stop at pets, your dog and your cat..!

© tcmoon 2011  (1996)


Silly Lions

Poem First Published  “Born Free”   Poetry Now  Feb 1997

Two small cheetah cubs,
Chase a gazelle fawn while their Ma watches, intently;
They turn. They skip. They run so hard and fast,
The fawn gazelle gives up and falls. Silently…

…Over the tundra comes a hyena, looking for an easy kill.
But the first cheetah cub runs at it, to chase it away.
Much to learn these cheetah cubs.
If they’re not careful the hyena will have it’s day!

Then from the skies, looking for carrion come, the vulture!
First, one or two. Then many of them. They want the kill;
*But they are unsuccessful on this occasion*
And tho; the fawn is not yet dead, soon it will…

On the crest of the hill, the horizon yonder,
Sits a lioness, watching the drama unfold
But she’s interested in the fawn gazelle
Not mushy stories this narrator can tell!

The cheetah cubs run off just as Ma cheetah has told them to
As the selfish lioness approaches; she wants the fawn herself;
Ma cheetah decides it’s healthier to leave
As comes the lion, himself proclaimed king of all jungle wealth…

…And he wants the little fawn, no care it’s mother, now sad
But tis’ only a small wee fawn, not enough (to eat) for two;
He fights his missus for the food. And wins. Then settles to feast
As his brother sees too and he decides there is enough for two!

The brothers fight, just as did the cub cheetah, tho’ they’ve shared
But not two greedy lions. The lioness skulks away,
Leaving the males to the fawn; What silly, silly lions, aren’t they?
Couldn’t they just learn to share. Then another kill would feed them
Both on another day?

And what of the poor cheetah cubs. Lost their meal
And all because these silly lions chose instead to steal…

© tcmoon 2011 (1996)

Alien...?

Poem First Published  “Poetry Now Central 1997"  Poetry Now Feb 1997

I have an alien friend. HE, has got me pregnant.
Laugh you might, because I’m a man. Ease my worries? No, it don’t!

He came from the skies. Damn! He came into me!
And ‘m left holding the baby, so to speak;
Yes, I was abducted, last Wednesday week . . .?

Did I feel any pain? You might well Ask?
No! Just a feeling of weightlessness; Just a feeling of abandonment.
I know now how women feel, so worthless . . .
He’s had his fun and his fill and that, is the bitterest pill
To swallow, so clinical, so unfeeling, left my mind, my world,
Reeling!

“Our” child will be a hybrid, of that I have no doubt,
I have to suffer, while he’s in space, just putting it about!

If there’s  a god, He’s deserted me now, Left me to fend, and, look
At my weight? Do I buy blue, or pink? A cot or what?
And  something to perambulate? Will I have cravings? Ugh! Yuk!
Is he coming back, my friend from above?
Did he do it out of science, or was it really love?
No matter, it’ll be alright on the day,
‘cos he’s my friend, so things WILL be okay(?)

Is this really friendship? Is he a true friend?
I, of course, know the answer, so why should I ask?
He came to me, said he a friend. Why would he lie?
A union of souls, differential beings, meeting at last.
So why am I so unsure? Just look at the stretch marks?!!
A hybrid specimen, flushed away down the loo,
Well, in my position, what would you do? Bugger friendship and
Interstellar relations...

© tcmoon 2011 (Ulysses Fred Orlange  1996)