901

Robert Lee Frost's DUST OF SNOW

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Oh, heavy weather chafed;
The dark of doom, an
Omen, cast shadows
Discomforting me.

But then, see flora...
Turn sad frown around!
As works of God prove yet
to me, a day's wholesome.

902

MASTERPIECE
Recorded by Madonna

If you were the Mona Lisa
You'd be hanging in the Louvre
Everyone would come to see you
You'd be impossible to move
It seems to me that's what you are
A rare and priceless work of art
Stay behind your velvet rope
But I will not renounce all hope

And I'm right by your side
Like a thief in the night
I stand in front of the masterpiece
And I can't tell you why
It hurts so much
To be in love with the masterpiece
'Cause after all
Nothing's indestructible

From the moment I first saw you
All the darkness turned to light
An impressionistic painting
Tiny particles of light
It seem to me is what you're like
The "look but please don't touch me" type
And honestly it can't be fun
To always be the chosen one

And I'm right by your side
Like a thief in the night
I stand in front of the masterpiece
And I can't tell you why
It hurts so much
To be in love with a masterpiece
'Cause after all
Nothing's indestructible
Nothing's indestructible
Nothing's indestructible
Nothing's indestructible

And I'm right by your side
Like a thief in the night
I stand in front of the masterpiece
And I can't tell you why
It hurts so much
To be in love with a masterpiece

And I'm right by your side
Like a thief in the night
I stand in front of the masterpiece
And I can't tell you why
It hurts so much
To be in love with a masterpiece
'Cause after all
Nothing's indestructible
'Cause after all
Nothing's indestructible

BRUNETTE IN A BIKINI
By
Vincent

I saw her by the main pool
At our local swimming baths,
In the tiniest bikini,
And though we'd never crossed paths,
I thought: 'She is the one for me!'
Yet I am nearly seventy,
A frightful thing, but I must say,
I couldn't tear my eyes away.

She intently came towards me,
Looking hot in her two-piece
Slinkily, hypnotically,
Like a sultry feline beast,
Then, in a tone that turned me red,
She truculently said:
'Did you get an eyeful, chubby guy?'
'Uh? I'm innocent!' I cried.

I went on: 'The female body,
Is of interest to me,
'Cos I'm one iconic artist,
And one big celebrity.
My name is Vincent Ruben Bland,
I'm huge in the Netherlands.'
'Hi, Vince,' she tittered, 'I'm Denise,
I love an oily masterpiece!'

She uttered, 'Hey, can I come round
Tomorrow night, maybe?
To see your latest masterpiece?'
I stuttered: 'Er... suits me,'
Though I can't paint for toffees,
I said, 'I'll perc us some coffees,
Or put some bubbly on ice?'
'Perfect,' she said, 'that sounds nice.'
*
I got a length of plaster board,
Bought lots of tins of paint,
Then chucked the lot all over it,
And with no self-restraint,
I put that board down on the floor,
Then I rolled on it in the raw.
That night when she came to call,
I had it hung up on the wall.

She cried out: 'That's a masterpiece!
It's reminiscent of the sea,
With distant, moonlit flying gulls,
Such utter intuition, such ability!'
Gulls? I looked at it and there
I saw three silver pubic hairs!
I said: 'I try to put a part
Of me in every work of art.'

903

Sonnet No. Twenty-Seven
by William Shakespeare

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts (from far where I abide),
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see;
Save that my soul's imaginary sight,
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night),
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind.
For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.

Why I Behold We Might Simply Never Shy Away

In ev'ry flower I gaze upon thy face,
The canvas to my awe and admiration,
Yet I know mine's a shredded shy disgrace
(Wherein it should be blinded from creation).
My heart propels warm beams of joy to thee,
That in my mind of thee to think makes gold;
But features grotesque and reptilian be
Upon myself (like that on dragons old).
Why, to hobgoblins do my ears belong:
They strike and spike the sky with awful line!
Most birds I seek next end their downwind songs,
When they review these piggish marks of mine;
Though, ugliness aside, I humbly be
This jolly man by warmly tending thee.

904

[The Philippines celebrates its Independence Day every 12th of June. After 300 years in a convent (Spain), 50 years in Hollywood (America) and 4 years in a pagoda (Japan), one often wonders if we are TRULY FREE from our former colonizers. Or are we now also serving a few new masters? William Henry Davies' ALL IN JUNE is anagrammed into another poem with the acrostic constraint INDEPENDENCE.]

ALL IN JUNE
by William Henry Davies

A week ago I had a fire
To warm my feet, my hands and face;
Cold winds, that never make a friend,
Crept in and out of every place.

Today the fields are rich in grass,
And buttercups in thousands grow;
I'll show the world where I have been--
With gold-dust seen on either shoe.

Till to my garden back I come,
Where bumble-bees for hours and hours
Sit on their soft, fat, velvet bums,
To wriggle out of hollow flowers.

TRULY FREE?

I'm a bullfight survivor of Spain,
Numb at some wild obscene fiesta.
Drubbed with wretched religion;
Endlessly having a twelfth siesta!

Proffered through obese America's
Entertainment then from Hollywood.
Now chewing the burgers and fries of
Disney-Marvel's callow childhood!

Eventually doomed to serve Japan,
Now cowed there with the short stay.
China and Korea today makes us
Eager for well-built Kia and Huawei!

905

[Sonnet to sonnet anagram with an additional constraint]

Sonnet No. Eighty by William Shakespeare

O, how I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame!
But since your worth (wide as the Ocean is)
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
My saucy bark (inferior far to his)
On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
Or (being wreck'd) I am a worthless boat,
He of tall building and of goodly pride:
Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
The worst was this; my love was my decay.

Her I Avoid As I Finish My Pities' Paranoia

For you I long'd, while for your beau, why, naught!
Aglow your beauty was, yet not his heart;
Regardless if of him the Earth you thought,
Enough from fact his words were to depart.
When passion packs a human by a soul,
Ebullience by a soul due fills a body;
Lo, yet, how love transcends this spoken whole,
Lest he should long as I do! (or be godly).
My heart therefrom, I weep, did shine but splinter,
Yet learn'd am I to make mine bittersweet:
Led if to blanket (as fear doth) in winter,
And wow'd (as if 'neath summer's happy treat).
Do I appal or hope? Well, I can't dim
Your wish to be so kind to wicked him.

[Constraint:]

Her I Avoid As I Finish My Pities' Paranoia

For you I long'd, while for your beau, why, naught!
Aglow your beauty was, yet not his heart;
Regardless if of him the Earth you thought,
Enough from fact his words were to depart.
When passion packs a human by a soul,
Ebullience by a soul due fills a body;
Lo, yet, how love transcends this spoken whole,
Lest he should long as I do! (or be godly).
My heart therefrom, I weep, did shine but splinter,
Yet learn'd am I to make mine bittersweet:
Led if to blanket (as fear doth) in winter
And wow'd (as if 'neath summer's happy treat).
Do I appal or hope? Well, I can't dim
Your wish to be so kind to wicked him.

906

The aim of all is but to nurse the life
With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age;
And in this aim there is such thwarting strife,
That one for all, or all for one we gage;
As life for honour in fell battle's rage;
Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost
The death of all, all together lost.

— W. Shakespeare

I Ask How To Rearrange A Phrase!

The meaning of life can be found,
When we turn the letters around;
If one shuffles well,
Together, all tell
A sentence that, hah, should astound!

To do that goes to start a thrill
With a brain or a software to fill.
"Hello" to a fail,
Is worth a high wail -
So gather the fine game of nil!

907

Ended the act of the Pesach night,
Each law and custom kept aright:
As we’ve lived to do it without a stain
God grant we do it time and again.
Pure One, Dweller in height august,
Raise up the folk of countless dust!
Soon lead the stem-shoots of thy ward,
Redeemed and singing, Zionward.

The matzah, now we've had our fill.
Don't go to sleep, there's singing still!
The song of counting, praise of God,
Cute verse of goats and cats (how odd!)
Stay awake, don't mind the time;
Though we're wearied, this ain't no crime.
Call thus the seder night we'd put
At an end, said dead, adieu, kaput!

908

The Guitar:
Federico Garcia Lorca

The weeping of the guitar
begins.
The goblets of dawn
are smashed.
The weeping of the guitar
begins.
Useless
to silence it.
Impossible
to silence it.
It weeps monotonously
as water weeps
as the wind weeps
over snowfields.

Impossible
to silence it.
It weeps for distant
hot sweeping sand
cool white geese
weeps for camellias
weeps a dart without
target
evening without
morning.
See the eagles
lifeless
effigies
upon branches.
Oh, guitar!
A woebegone
heart dies
cut by swords.

909

CARRIE
The Eighties hit by Cliff Richard

Sorry to disturb you
But I was in the neighbourhood
About a friend I've her picture
Could you take a look?
Oh, I appreciate you're busy
And time is not your own
Yeah, maybe it would be better
If I telephoned

(chorus)
Carrie doesn't live here anymore
Carrie used to room on the second floor
Sorry that she left no forwarding address
That was known to me
Carrie doesn't live here anymore
You could always ask at the corner store
Carrie had a date with her own kind of fate
It's plain to see

Another missing person
One of many we assume
The young wear their freedom
Like cheap perfume
(It's useless information)
Returning my call
(To help the situation)
They've nothing at all
You're just another message
On a payphone wall

Carrie doesn't live here anymore
Carrie used to room on the second floor
Sorry that she left no forwarding address
That was known to me
Carrie doesn't live here anymore
You could always ask at the corner store
Carrie had a date with her own kind of fate
It's plain to see

IS CARRIE IN?

(Me)
Sorry to trouble you,
But I once lived in Camberwell,
It used to be a dump, yet now
It's funky as well.
Anyway, a friend resides here,
I said I'd call on her,
Carrie is her name... what did you
Say: "haven't you heard?"

(Man)
Carrie doesn't live here anymore,
Okay, Carrie owned a flat on the first floor,
But one spooky night saw a riotous fight,
You shoulda heard the screams.
Carrie doesn't live here anymore,
We got no reply when we knocked on her door,
Yet, her current date, some blond reprobate,
Was there, too, with her.

A neighbour heard the ruckus,
And promptly told the police,
Then notified the Guardian
To give them a piece,
Such juicy information,
Soon makes the front page,
So now the situation's
At a rocky stage,
Boy, it really has aroused
Serious outrage.

Poor Carrie isn't here, not anymore,
Our Carrie couldn't wait to fly out the door,
She confessed the stress put her head in a mess,
Then sold her flat to me.
Carrie doesn't live here anymore,
Now I own the flat on the first floor,
Carrie left a sofa, it was okay,
Apart from one wine stain...