A Prayer

A PRAYER

My God, My God, Why have I forsaken you ?

I know you are
My whole being knows you are
I cannot conceive an atheism
even agnosticism will not do
for I know you are
My whole being knows you are

My God, My God, Why have I forsaken you ?

Unsure
you showed me the way
Low
you lifted me up
Sinner
you forgave me
Alien
you took me unto yourself
Loveless
you gave me love
Fearful
you brought me your peace
Idle
you gave me a task to do
Weak
you strengthened me

My God, My God, Why have I forsaken you ?

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 1st November 1967

Publications

1968 Tait's Quarterly (UK)
1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press)

Sex and Sleep

SEX AND SLEEP

I feel my mortality
like Alexander of Macedon
in sex and in sleep

Sex is the perpetuation of mortality
the only continuum possible
when parents die, and
children so soon grow old
And the use of sleep
is for the regainment
of energy lost in the battle of life

Gods are immortal
and need not sons
to perpetuate their line
Neither need they sleep
for they grow not weary
toiling not

© Gerald England

Composed: Glasgow, 3rd September 1967

Publications

1972 THE WINE THE WOMEN AND THE SONG (Pyle, Kenfig Press)
1991 La Carta de Oliver (Argentina)

******
SEXO Y SUENO

Yo siento mi mortalidad
como Alejandro de Macedonia
en el sexo y en el sueno

El sexo es la perpetuacion de la mortalidad
el unico continuum posible
cuando los padres mueren, y
los hijos crecen demasiado pronto
Y el uso del sueno
es para la recuperacion
de la energia perdida en la batalla de la vida

Los dioses son inmortales
y no necesitan hijos
para perpetuar su linaje
Tampoco necesitan dormir
ya que no se cansan
de no trabajar

© GERALD ENGLAND

translated by Santiago Espel.

Publication

1991 La Carta de Oliver (Argentina)

Death of Cleopatra, after Carlo Cignani

DEATH OF CLEOPATRA, AFTER CARLO CIGNANI

(Kelvingrove Art Gallery, Glasgow)

The Death is the dying,
that short fleeting moment
between the living
and the dead,
which is a seeming eternity.

As the asp curls round your arm
you clasp your left hand under your breast,
you raise your right arm
in a final, feeble, royal command;
but as the asp draws the skin of your breast
between its teeth,
your eyes cry out in agony.

Even Queens have to die!

© Gerald England

Composed: Glasgow, 1st September 1967

Publications

1968 Platform (UK)
1970 MOUSINGS (Sheffield, Headland)
1994 Potpourri (USA)
1997 The Writer's Home Page (Internet)

Escape

ESCAPE

It is necessary
every once in a while
to escape
from the oppressive closeness
of the city;
to take a bus
away from the city
to a small village
up on the moors' edge
from where
I can walk up
into the hills
where there is
no roar of traffic
but the rippling of a stream
Though the city
is but a mere
bus ride away
it could be a million miles
for here is not the solitude
of the city,
which is loneliness,
but the solitude
of the country,
which is freedom

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Eaglesham, 29th August 1967

Publications

1976 MEETINGS AT THE MOOR'S EDGE (West Kirkby, Headland)
1985 SPEAK TO THE HILLS (Aberdeen University Press)
1991 The Vincent Brothers Review (USA)

Free Gift?

FREE GIFT ?

I got some tissues with my coffee yesterday
and last week I got a lady's handkerchief !
Instant coffee -
is that what causes my colds ?

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 20th August 1967

Publications

1968 Breakthru (UK)
1969 IT'S WORLD THAT MAKES THE LOVE GO ROUND (London, Corgi Books)
1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)

Mill Poem

MILL POEM

Jill
climbed hill
with Phil
saw mill
in rill
on hill
Sails still

Pinned
no wind

Which sought
they'd bought

Jill
gave Phil
the bill
for mill
in rill
on hill

Nought
he thought
did Phil
of bill

For two
would do

Jill
felt ill
in mill
in rill
on hill
Phil
gave Jill
a pill

Not pure
no cure

She cried
she died

Phil
buried Jill
in mill
in rill
on hill

Went home
to Rome
with Salom-
e

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 20th August 1967

Publications

1970 MOUSINGS (Sheffield, Headland)
1970 Headland (UK)

The Peasant, after Van Gogh

(image courtesy of Olga's Gallery)
"THE PEASANT" AFTER VAN GOGH

Little changes in the country
Tillage of the earth
provides merely a scrap of living
But the face is of one resigned
to the receipt of scraps
Half-piercing eyes
can see beyond the superficial
But the hands are much
much too old and wrinkled
to stretch out
at certain rebuff
Years of setback
harvests ruined by too much rain
or too much sun
interspersed with bumper years
of fine harvests
good wine to drink
and hope for the future
have combined to form
this heavy brow
and old grey beard
wondering just how many warm summers
and how many winters
are yet to be endured
For little changes good or bad
in the country

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 10th August 1967

Publications

1968 Platform (UK)
1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press)
1987 POETS FOR AFRICA (Las Vegas, Family of God)
1993 Mobius (MI, USA)
1997 The Writer's Home Page (Internet)
1997 The Pink Cadillac Review (Internet)

Metaphor of a Snail and an Elephant

METAPHOR OF A SNAIL AND AN ELEPHANT

Have you ever watched a snail
crawl up the back of an elephant ?

She'd asked me how it was going

It was one of those days
when you've worked three times as hard as you usually do
but for all the results
you might have done (perhaps better had you done)
nothing

The snail had almost reached the top
The elephant moved slightly
The snail
        fell
             off

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 1st August 1967

Publications

1968 New Melody (UK)
1971 Platform (UK)
1972 Roots (UK)
1987 Inkshed (UK)
1989 Short Fuse (USA)
1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)

Not My Home

NOT MY HOME

Glasgow never had been my home!
  My home
was elsewhere;
but I did admit to living
  there.

There were times when I would almost
have called the city
  mine,
but I was constantly reminded
that I was a foreigner
  in that city.

There was a lack of communication
  which lay
not in speech,
  nor even
   nationality!

It lay perhaps
 in the dust of the streets;
 in the halves and half-pints;
 in the pseudo-religious cult of football;
 in the crumbling tenements:
it lay ingrained
 in the superficial.

Deep in the hearts of the city people
  there was perhaps
  no difference
between they
 and I.

Glasgow was not my home,
but I did admit to living there.

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 1st August 1967

Publications

1970 MOUSINGS (Sheffield, Headland)
1990 The Plastic Tower (USA)

Pontefract General Infirmary: An Impression

PONTEFRACT GENERAL INFIRMARY:AN IMPRESSION

In the centre of the town
by the main east-west road
it stands;
Victorian-looking at the front
but very modern at the back
by Mayor's Walk and Friarwood
stretching from the Valley Gardens
to the nurseries where liquorice was cultivated
but not any more.

Inside - a mass of corridors,
lifts to the fourth floor and fifth basement,
maternity wards, children's wards, Casualty ward,
offices and kitchens,
X-ray units,
Out-patients'.

A constant hubbub of people surround the walls,
doctors, nurses, matron, specialists,
ambulance-men, office-staff, cleaners and caterers,
radiographers, pathologists, and of course
there are patients as well.

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 17th July 1967

Publication

1968 Manifold (UK)

To One Who Left -- Being Bitter

TO ONE WHO LEFT - BEING BITTER

thought it would break my heart
but you didn't care
you left allthesame

o i went
just like we'd planned
a friend went with me
but he had to be back early
then it rained
o yes how it rained
and how it rained
i had my umbrella
i didn't get wet
you'd have liked me to get wet
or perhaps you think i'm wet enough already
yes
i admit it
it wasn't the same without you...
but i wouldn't say it was worse

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 9th July 1967

Publication

1970 Bogg (UK)

A Statement

STATEMENT

To be what we are not
or not to be
that which we are
To be proud of our failure
making nought of our success
To tear with the blunt end
of a scalpel
and meanwhile cut our finger
To howl in horror of the little pinprick
yet bear a crushed foot
as if twere nought
To make brass
and then spend more
on shifting the muck
It's these belie
yet in confusion compound
the Yorkshireman

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ackworth, 1st July 1967

Publications

1974 North (UK)
1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press)

A Laster Can By Runoster

A LASTER CAN BY RUNOSTER

A laster can by runoster
the moon of Ulf Dar-coster
staphled at Gleanmar,
west of danmore santar.

Li naptered underday nick San
at Inver sin li nulli dan;
san kiptered for some nectar lime
et visited by laminers in ophirkime.
So by and by San mak demise
tey gan the war wen summer please!

San twa equine in lofter had,
jet sich up in the bad:
best twa equine in Inver lay,
none tete-a-tete severed li may;
et Oriental Runoster by San staphle,
li cupped by Sanson li baffle.

© Gerald England

Composed: Ackworth, 6th June 1967

Publications

1968 Bo Heem E Um (UK)
1970 MOUSINGS (Sheffield, Headland)
2004 Chanticleer (UK)

Where Are You Going My Little One

WHERE ARE YOU GOING MY LITTLE ONE ?

Stop

Sit down

Think

Do not rush on

Stop

Sit down
quietly
and think

If you have nowhere to go
then please
stay at home
and leave room
for those who know where they are going
to travel there in peace

If you have somewhere to go
then go
and only make diversion
upon a change
of destination

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ackworth, 1st June 1967

Published

1969 Tait's Quarterly (UK)
1973 Roots (UK)
1994 Thorny Locust (USA)
1998 LIMBO TIME (Hyde, New Hope International)

Moor Murder

(click on text/image to enlarge)
© Gerald England

Composed: Glasgow, 25th May 1967

Unpublished

Life

LIFE

It is an ephemeral life I lead
a sort of make believe
where the real things of life
barely exist at all
and where reality is a thin meandering of the mind

The sun is shining with unbounded vigour
on this day this Public Holiday
but I have work to do
which must be done
No holiday for me

I sit in my room and I can listen
to the birds singing through the open window
to the Roses Match being broadcast on the radio
and can recall the now past times
when I too joined the crowd
watching the cricket actually there
lazing in the sun
with nothing to do

These things were real enough then
Still they invade my room
But I have my work to do
and that alone is real

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 10th May 1967

Publication

1976 MEETINGS AT THE MOOR'S EDGE (West Kirkby, Headland)

Charade

CHARADE

           Life's mostly a game, said the poor man
That it is, said the rich man
           But I won in the end
Won ? But you are poor
I won  I am rich
           Ah alas how little you have read of the rules
           You are the one who lost
           I too have my riches
           and they are far greater than yours
I have credit in Zurich
           The Post Office cashes my cheque
I eat the finest venison of Europe
and drink the best Burgundy
           I eat only eggs
           and drink only milk
I have servants at my beck and call
No man is my master
           The animals in the fields are my only servants
           God is my only master
I live in a white mansion
           I live in a grey box
I am master of the game
You are just a pawn
I pity you
           You are the pawn
           I pity you
           I have my thoughts of peace
I am too busy making money
to think of peace
           I have the sun and the wind
           the songs of the birds
           the freshness of rain
           and the friendship of dogs
I have no time
for such as these
           I have riches in my soul
I have no soul
If I had   it has died
           I shall live when I die
When I die
the game will end

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 5th May 1967

Publication

1991 New Wave (USA)

Musaphobia

MUSAPHOBIA

I heard a new word today.
It has two meanings
apparently;
- quite distinct - I am assured.
Musaphobia: dislike of mice
                   or poetry.

I've often been asked
whether I were man
         or mouse.

I can answer that now
for there is a likeness there -
the seeming insignificant
which none-the-less
can frighten the mighty ELEPHANT,
or make women
           stand
                 on chairs        
                           & lift
                                  their skirts.

Yes the poem does have affinity with
   the mouse.

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 1st May 1967

Publications

1970 MOUSINGS (Sheffield, Headland)
1989 Eavesdropper (UK)
1990 Inkshed (UK)
1997 Tara's Poetry Page (Internet)
2010 Chanticleer (Internet)

May Eve

MAY EVE

It is late
and I have a hard day tomorrow
I should be in bed
for I am well tired
but thoughts are bottled up inside me
and I must release them
before I sleep

The cork fits tight
No matter how hard I pull
I cannot release it

Tomorrow is more than a new day
It is a new month
the month of May
But what does that mean to me?
There are few celebrations in the city
one takes notice of
There are too many celebrations
to notice the particular
My two eyes,
my two tired, drooping eyes
have never gazed upon a Maypole
I cannot imagine the revelry
of Richmond in sixteen-sixty
with the Sheriff and the Bishop of Hereford
joining in with the throng —
the May games
the morrice-dancing
the drinking of sack
the Robin Hood play —

The cork still lies in the bottle's neck
I take the bottle
I smash it  Crash

The thoughts spill out onto the paper
disappear out of sight
over the table's edge
My mind is emptied
I have lost my thoughts
At least I can go to sleep in peace

© Gerald England

Composed: Glasgow, 14th April 1967

Publication

1990 Spider Eyes (USA)

There is a Choir

THERE IS A CHOIR

There is a choir buzzing in my head
an harmonious choir
thinking
thinking -
it is thinking
one thought
and it is buzzing
in my head

This thought is not my thought
It is thought
by the choir
thinking in my head
I am not responsible
for this thought
I am only responsible for my own thoughts

Let the choir think
I shall not head their thoughts
Their thoughts are not my thoughts
They are not
and they shall not be
It is hard to resist
the thinking of the choir in my head

The choir which is thinking in my head
is thinking of a chess problem
on a train
jumping a brook
Their thoughts
are worth
a thousand pounds
a word

Alice thinks in pictures

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Glasgow, 10th April 1967

Publication

1969 AN ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY (Pontefract, Whitwood and District Arts Association)