Friday Poetry Corner.

[threaded]

This is what should be done
By one who is skilled in goodness,
And who knows the path of peace:
Let them be able and upright,
Straightforward and gentle in speech.
Humble and not conceited,
Contented and easily satisfied.
Unburdened with duties and frugal in their ways.
Peaceful and calm, and wise and skillful,
Not proud and demanding in nature.
Let them not do the slightest thing
That the wise would later reprove.

[Churchill]

Last night I knelt where Hiram knelt
and took an obligation.
Today I'm closer to my God
for I'm a Master Mason.

Though heretofore my fellow men
seemed each one like the other,
today I search each one apart.
I'm looking for my brother.

And as I feel his friendly grip
it fills my heart with pride.
I know while I am on the square
that he is by my side.

His footsteps on my errand go
if I should such require.
His prayers will lead in my behalf
if I should so desire.

My words are safe within his breast
as though within my own,
his hand forever at my back
to help me safely home.

Good counsel whispers in my ear
and warns of any danger.
By square and compass, Brother now
who once would call me stranger.

I might have lived a moral life
and risen to distinction
without my Brothers helping hand
and the fellowship of Masons.

But God, who knows how hard it is
to resist life's temptations,
knows why I knelt where Hiram knelt
and took that obligation.

[shaunbhoy]

And the funny trouser leg? Not to mention the goats!!!


Anyway...........

I was sitting on the river bank
my hand was all a quiver
I undid her suspender belt
her leg fell in the river!!

P. McCartney

[AlfredJPruffock]

We're Late


Clocks cannot tell our time of day
For what event to pray

Because we have no time, because
We have no time until
We know what time we fill,
Why time is other than time was.

Nor can our question satisfy
The answer in the statue's eye:
Only the living ask whose brow

May wear the Roman laurel now;
The dead say only how.

What happens to the living when we die?
Death is not understood by Death;

nor You, nor I.

WH Auden

[GBH123]

The Story of Augustus who not have any Soup

Augustus was a chubby lad;
Fat ruddy cheeks Augustus had;
And everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty healthy boy.
He ate and drank as he was told,
And never let his soup get cold.
But one day, one cold winter's day,
He threw away the spoon and screamed:
"O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day:
I will not, will not eat my soup!
I will not eat it, no!"


Next day! now look, the picture shows
How lank and lean Augustus grows!
Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,
The naughty fellow cries out stillÑ
"Not any soup for me, I say!
O take the nasty soup away!
I will not, will not eat my soup!
I will not eat it, no!"


The third day comes. O what a sin!
To make himself so pale and thin.
Yet, when the-soup is put on table,
He screams, as loud as he is ableÑ
"Not any soup for me, I say!
O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day!"


Look at him, now the fourth day's come!
He scarce outweighs a sugar-plum;


He's like a little bit of thread;
And on the fifth day he was-dead.

[Fleetwood]

Echoes of the Broadway Everglades,
With her mythical madonnas still walking in their shades:
Lenny Bruce declares a truce and plays his other hand.
Marshall McLuhan, casual viewin, head buried in the sand.
Sirens on the rooftops wailing, but there's no ship sailing.
Groucho, with his movies trailing, stands alone with his punchline failing.
Ku Klux Klan serve hot soul food and the band plays In the Mood
The cheerleader waves her cyanide wand,
There's a smell of peach blossom and bitter almond.
Caryl Chessman sniffs the air and leads the parade, he knows, in a scent,
You can bottle all you made.
There's Howard Hughes in blue suede shoes,
Smiling at the majorettes, smoking Winston Cigarettes.
And as the song and dance begins,
The children play at home with needles; needles and pins.

[darmstadt]

Him-Whose-Penis-Stretches-Down-To-His-Knees

Everyone knows not to have sex after handling a corpse.
But Him-Whose-Penis-Stretches-Down-To-His-Knees
pointed to his groin and said, "This big fellow isn't afraid of taboos."
His wife warned him, but he just laughed as he rolled her onto her back.
The next day a huge raven rose up from a boulder
and grabbed the penis of Him-Whose-Penis-Stretches-Down-To-His-Knees.
The raven tugged as though the penis were a frozen piece of fish.
The raven tugged until he tore off most of the penis, then flew away.
Now people from the village point to the man
whose urges couldn't wait one more day.
They taunt him by calling out his new name: Him-Whose-Penis-
Barely-Peeps-From-Its-Cave.