Authors: Jan Vivian
In A Few Words
IN A FEW WORDS
A Collection of Poems
By Jan Vivian
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2009 - Jan Vivian©
A most unworthy
But observant man
Once said of her, that,
“Girl, you are a special one,
A sun rich bloom,
A blaze of petal,
And out there,
Somewhere,
There’s a better one,
A man who,
For you alone could settle,
A man who’d love to meet
A blondly tresse
’
d one,
A man
Who had the soul to greet
A true word’s soft caress,
Uttered by a winsome lass
And who,
For all he knew,
Was loads of fun,
He’d be a guy who loved
A joyful freckled one,
A lass
Possessed of tender skin,
And yes!
A lass,
Who’d make the best of him.”
Oh God!
Where is this wonderful creation?
If only he would come her way!
Not now,
Or even unexpected soon,
Unless,
A happy and portentous day
Had started with a mirrored face,
That stared back brightly,
And was heard to say,
“Yesterday was emptiness,
Today’s the end of loneliness,
We each possess a loveliness
From now, tomorrow and beyond
I’ll find a man whose touch is fond
The right man who to me is bound
By love’s unseen but caring warps
That brings to me alone, to us,
Our loves’ all-healing happiness”.
(With Apologies to John Keats)
She was pretty,
Yesirree!
And thankfully,
Not stick thin,
So pleasingly,
Tanned of skin.
When tested conversationally,
She said softly,
I’m not brainy,
I'm just homely.
So, we gave it a try,
Nothing frantic or intense,
But from the first
It made no sense.
I’d lost it all,
Or so it seemed,
Cos
To horse-play I was in thrall,
To an octane high life,
To thinking I have it all,
Misplaced pride before the fall,
From grace.
I can get by,
With the little I have,
But marrying for money?
Now that seemed the way to live.
We got along,
She said it was l’amour,
But,
No, just fleshy fervour,
Entrapment by the silken skin,
Enslaved to clammy warmth,
Within her.
But the girl, she had no dosh.
Ah well!
Now, where do I begin?
The officer’s whistle went
Over the top they’re sent
To heaven or hell, they’re bent.
A breach of the line?
Scarcely a dent.
Livid men, many lives
Family and civilisation,
Spent.
Scenes so Infernal,
Sacrifices bravely Carnal,
Brigade’s men Fraternal
Memories, all Eternal.
Such glorious tales!
The volumes are thick
The walls covered, wide
But nothing, no nothing
Could stem the tide
That ragingly engulfed
Instantly, rudely snuffed
Out the fledgling’s hopes
Who, with boundless pomp
Imbued
Were, with anxious prayers
Pursued
In a cause thought just.
Fight on! Fight On!
To dust,
We must!
‘Til the end,
Bitter end.
And so, after one last sally
In a faceless, bloody tally
The War Office
Brown envelopes sent.
Our hopes,
On the door mat
They end.
“For Freedom and Honour”
The medallions said.
And our loved one?
Oh! Our laughing one?
He’s…Dead?…Dead!
Jan Vivian©
(or, In Another World)
In the grey dawn of everyday a singular man makes his way.
Alley dogs bark.
‘Not again’, comfortably cocooned residents remark
As the rubbish bins rattle, each day’s keep is a battle, of senses and quick wits,
For to him the hostel’s beyond bounds for he and his hound like the sounds
Of the street, where new companions they meet and gruff greetings they utter
As each to their own, in bags, worthless clutter they carry, they seldom tarry,
Too long, to consider their lives’ stock, even if many have been in the dock…
And, for him, a reputation’s sunk low so another life is configured, somehow,
On the street, where he may seem free as the air but he’s burdened by care
For disparate loved ones, ambivalent have somes, purposefully unaware
Of their man’s dishevelled habit, best suited to rural byways and ancient drove ways
That, at other times he wondrously roams and under sylvan arches he makes up a home.
But now, with many un-named others, a motley band of sisters and brothers,
He gathers and he sleeps but they, unlike him, society don’t eschew and a wilder life pursue
Even if graceless tabloids finally relented, false tales grudgingly recanted until finally,
They even said ‘sorry’...
But, Brian…the stories about you, they weren’t so easy to undo,
And so, a great life was lost at great human cost, but did they care? No…
A blip in circulation covered the waste of a hard-earned reputation. A normal life came to a stop
Before, from your own hearth you were hounded by persistent tales, gossip, all of it unfounded
As, behind hands, they still spoke of unseemly behaviour…not the wont of a respected teacher,
The tone of the words reminded you of some braying errant preacher…
Enough! Much has been written and said, a family’s gone; now a life is undone.
Deep down, his spirit flares on; his mind lives and he strives to forgive
Another’s unworthy slight, the blank indifference shown to his prevailing plight
As, with his faithful bitch, Fleck, the city’s streets he now treks
She’s companionable and dutiful, calmer now less emotional…
She’s like him, cast off, by society pushed out and acceptance by peers still in doubt,
But together, and for him Shakespeare’s book of plays, they fill many a wet lonely day as
A street’s place they find, many greet and money's capped, not beggared for they still see the light
Of each God given day and tenaciously cling to man and beasts’ well-trodden ways
Of love, mutual trust and forgiveness, to which their chosen God daily bears witness.
Jan Vivian©
I’m a miser…
I’ve turned off the radio,
I no longer care what’s in print,
They feed a mood of despondency,
Should I live or simply exist?
The sun still comes up
And,
I can still take a breath.
At home,
I care for those around me,
While out there
Politicians pledge all my money,
Or,
They devalue what I have left.
And yet,
Deep down inside me,
I am not bereft.
For, what you can’t see
I count as my wealth.
Jan Vivian©
Angel
Finally, I find myself in a place called Reconciled. Calm can be found here, usually, after a turbulent journey through Suddenly, Trauma, Disbelief and a wasteland known as Aftermath. On my travels I rested, in Family and a haven known as Deep Affection. It will be easier in time to revisit from afar Memory, and experience anew a comforting location that draws me back, compulsively. I can relive the past by simply looking at a picture - of us. A silver thread binds me to you waiting at a portal, until I reach Terminus – and Reunion.
Your brother, Jan
Jan Vivian©