Poetry Corner

Colorful Language

Welcome to Poetry Corner!

Three of the nine Muses from ancient Greek mythology were dedicated to poetry. In our everyday lives language is often clumsy, vulgar, and limited. But in the right hands, the beauty of words is revealed. Song lyrics can stir the soul, written prose can enrapture the imagination.

As a biologist, my primary source of inspiration, what I would consider the ultimate muse, is the natural world. The majesty of life on Earth is impossible to fully capture, even with a sizeable lexicon, but some literary greats before me have achieved heroic feats in the attempt. Here is my small contribution to that ongoing exploration and evolution of the English vernacular.

Enjoy!

Contents

Appalachia
Balti King
Blue Lives, Blurred Lines
Bumper to Bumper
Dinner Rush Hour
A Divisive Figure
The Dragon Awakes
Dusk
Good to be Alive
The Heffalump
Horrid
Numbskull
Rituals
Shades of Green
Vernal Pool
Winter in Wisconsin
Water World
With the Flow

Appalachia

A montane Meccah in the heart of the States
With peaks that can enrapture
A blue-ridged beauty where adventure awaits
A geological dream catcher
Not even the Alps can match her stature

Balti King

Why didn’t you warn me sooner
About the perils of a rich lamb bhuna
My stomach’s a lead balloon
But there’s a rumour that I’ll resume
Coz I’m a consummate curry consumer

The Mogul Dynasty
Stays open till three
The walls dripping in raita and ghee
The best Chutney in East Putney
I’m a consummate curry consumer

A monumental lentil Dahl
Leads to gut fight at the OK Corral
Then a blockage down the Panama Canal
But nothing will fade my steadfast morale
Coz I’m a consummate curry consumer

A mountain of rice
A nice blend of spice
A proverbial poppadom paradise
Save your advice, I’m not willing to sacrifice
Coz I’m a consummate curry consumer

Vindaloo joins the queue
My stomach must be black and blue
The heat clouds up my field of view
If I pull through, count me a reborn Hindu

A Bangalori Tandoori
Steeped in garam masala and glory
The aftermath however is a gory story
Colon comeuppance obligatory
Coz I’m a consummate curry consumer

Never pass on the madras
Never ignore a pakora
Never sneer a sag paneer
Never dismiss the Goan fish
Never turn away the aloo Bombay
Fill your plate before it’s too late

It’s Korma that I crave
Tough to know if my belly will behave
But fortune favours the brave
Besides it’s too late to try and save me from
The esophageal spasms
A shockwave sends me to an early gastrointestinal grave
Coz I’m a consummate curry consumer

These hunger pangs I need to quash
What better way than a Rogan Josh
And a keema naan if I can spare the dosh
But under the surface slosh slosh slosh
Why didn’t you warn me sooner

Blue Lives, Blurred Lines

Pity the plight of the po-lice
In court they look so awfully sad
Guilty until proven innocent
It’s political correctness gone mad

Pity the plight of the po-lice
Don’t act if you can’t do the time
If we lock them away for the rest of their life
They’ll think twice before committing a crime

Their riot gear is starting to crumble
Their tear gas has long since expired
Can’t do our jobs anymore, they mumble
To fire is to risk getting fired

A face of mace, a kick in the groin
Choked and pinned to the floor
Immigrants, criminals, what’s the difference?
We’ll find out once we kick down your door

These bastards deserve nothing less
Plead the fifth, plead for mercy, plead for more
The thin blue line meets the man with no name
Don’t you know we’re the good guys? they implore

Pity the plight of the po-lice
Keep your hands up, coz we shoot to kill
A high school dropout, bullied as a kid
Revenge is sweet, it’s a thrill

Pity the plight of the po-lice
Without us, they angrily hiss
The world would descend into chaos
But let’s hope chaos is better than this

Bumper to Bumper

Phillip stepped out onto the veranda and coughed
His eyes struggled to focus in the mid-morning light
Scanning the garden, he affixed his gaze on two squirrels
Along the fence
Across the lawn
Up and down the trunk of an ancient walnut tree
They cavorted
What a commotion! he thought to himself
Before heading back inside and pouring another hot drink

Dinner Rush Hour

6pm on a Wednesday night
Never have I seen such a puzzling sight
Sat on the tarmac, two miles from home
Should’ve left work earlier, I’m surrounded by chrome
Brake lights fill my field of view
There’s a line at the Wendy’s drive-thru
A line at the Wendy’s drive-thru

Cars inch forward, creep creep creep
Tempers flare, horns beep beep beep
The traffic’s backed-up around the block
Shock, the fry cook’s off the clock
Their recipe must be tried and true
Coz there’s a line at the Wendy’s drive-thru
A line at the Wendy’s drive-thru

It snakes around the building, out into the road
Gives the wall of China a run for its money
In the American heartland where consumption is the mode
Lives an automobile diner, don’t laugh it’s not funny

Long John Silvers has shut up shop
Dunkin Donuts is surrounded by cops
There was a power outage at Dairy Queen
And the electrician call-out is nowhere to be seen
The nearest Maccy D’s is Timbuktu
So what else ya gonna do?
Join the line at the Wendy’s drive-thru

Speak into the speaker, make your choice
Pull up to the window says the voice
Burger, fries and a chocolate shake
How long is that going to take?
The light-up menu looks brand new
There’s a line at the Wendy’s drive-thru
A line at the Wendy’s drive-thru

Overweight teens who aren’t allowed to drink
Disgruntled husbands sick of Brunswick stew
Three businessmen two hillbillies and the missing link
All sat in line at the drive-thru

Grocery stores are feeling the squeeze
When folks can get their meals with ease
It’s hard to see the food for the trees
From behind the wheel of a Buick ‘92
There’s a line at the Wendy’s drive-thru
There’s a giant fucking line at the Wendy’s drive-thru

A Divisive Figure

Listen to the crackpot, his hairbrained schemes
Listen to the crackpot’s uninterpretable dreams
Behold his muttered utterances
Behold his spluttered gutterances
Never flustered, he’s mustered a lack-lustered bluster

Enraged, incensed, ignorant bliss
Hugs for free, fiver for a kiss
The walls come in, the tides go out
Bats in the belfry, rats up the spout

Thoughts on this, thoughts on that
A tailor’s dummy in a porkpie hat
Thoughts to the contrary, thoughts in line
The straw on the backbone, sign of the time
A scarecrow’s apprentice in search of a spine
Will do just fine
We’ll do just fine

Listen to the crackpot blather
Listen to the crackpot’s father
Listen to the crackpot rather
As the masses he tries to gather
Listen to the crackpot babble, dabble, empower the rabble
Listen to the crackpot slaver

A helping hand
To make the last stand
Dangling from a rope of sand
Won’t it be grand?
Yes, and…

The Dragon Awakes

Gazing to infinity
The mosaic of time lies etched across his features
As sand and stone collide
Life and love exist at the edge of nature’s dominion
Where giants fear to tread, the earth flows like wine
And he stands
Steeped in the struggles of a thousand suns

Dusk

Crimson skies blanket the mountains
Long shadows cross the lawn
Light fades to a whisper
A faint echo fractured through tangled branches

Bound by time
The darkness looms

Grainy vision begets grainy thoughts
A fawn hesitates beneath the stories of old
The dance of the fireflies tempt the stars to earth
Until we meet again

Hurry down sunshine
Let’s see what tomorrow brings

Good to be Alive

It feels good to be alive
It feels good to be alive
Striving, thriving
Struggling to surviving
It feels good to be alive

Some **’s driving like a bellend
Brake, borrow, make, mend
A serial rear-ender
Returning to sender
That’s what’s on the current agenda
Good to be alive

Veering through traffic without a care
Careering past cars without a moment to spare
Weaving, deceiving
Always believing
It could never be him
It feels good to be alive
Good to be alive

No amount of geriatric joggers
Or gluten-free food bloggers
Can burst my existential bubble
But here comes trouble
Some Barney on the double

Quick march, foot to the floor, hot-stepping action
Blink and you’ll miss it
Treasure every fleeting moment, they say
All things come to an end
It feels good to be alive

The Heffalump

You know he’s the real deal
Ordering the bargain bucket meal deal
Four pounds fifty, what a steal deal
Calories his Achilles heel deal

Jelly belly, diet dodger
Chunky monkey, porkey podger
Roly-poly, trolley codger
Gristle and grease are on the menu
At any available culinary venue

Who ate all the pies?
You fat bastard
Telling doctors lies
You fat bastard
The scales keep rising
It’s hardly surprising
It don’t require no encephalizing

Double chins come from double portions
Thunder thighs of colossal proportions
Bingo wings begin their contortions
As you guzzle ice cream by the gallon
A freak show guest spot on Jimmy Fallon

The relationship is far from platonic
The plates of chips are borderline chronic
They claim his growth is supersonic
But he just eats their words
Sick of being
So histrionic

Horrid

Sporting a John Deere cap and stonewashed denim
Spitting vitriolic words equal part virtue and venom
As far as he’s concerned, he’s the only true yank
If you know what’s good for you, don’t tread on Hank

Open your eyes, read the news, the country’s gone to pot
The jobs are gone, the women too, they’ve taken the bloody lot
The problem is those _____ you fill in the blank
And if you know what’s good for you, don’t tread on Hank

A rifle on his mantle, antlers deck the walls
A tiger from Doc Antle, if he only had the balls
Got himself a hummer, cause he couldn’t front a tank
If you know what’s good for you, don’t tread on Hank

He’s a staunch opponent of welfare
Wouldn’t give a crippled crab a crutch
A hipster proponent of self-care (before it was fashionable)
But that’s only because he empathises so much
Survive by your bootstraps and you’ll have him to thank

An immigrant inquiry, it’s no more than we deserve
His doomsday stockpiling resembles the federal reserve
Public enemy number one, and you can take that to the bank
If you know what’s good for you, don’t tread on Hank

Go on get, take your sad sack home
We’re better off without you, find somewhere else to roam
You’ve got to give him credit, he’s nothing if not frank
If you know what’s good for you, don’t tread on Hank

He just wants to be left alone, to go about his day
He wouldn’t say a peep if people didn’t get in his way
A patriot, a concerned citizen, but they just call him crank
If you know what’s good for you, don’t tread on Hank

A conscientious confederali steeped in the nation’s history
Make America great again but leave the details to mystery
Don’t turn bitter and take to twitter, that will amount to wank
And if you know what’s good for you, for christ’s sake don’t tread on Hank

Numbskull

He could be famous
A celebrity ignoramus
Just like that guy I saw on MTV
Straight out of Wimbledon
The local London simpleton
His name in lights before he’s 23

His booking agent promised to split the fee
But he’s a sensitive soul like that princess with the pea
Don’t blow it now nincompoop
If you want to rise you need to stoop
And see your name in lights before you’re 33

Capitalise on being thick
Falling over or being sick
That’s the smart move sonny, don’t you see?
Choke on your own spit
And just grin like a half-wit
And see your name in lights before you’re 43

Your following will double, that’s a guarantee
If you buy one, you’re sure to get one free
Oi over here dunderhead
Did you even hear what I just said?
Do you want your titular luminosity?

Shame on you for fooling him once
For preying on the village dunce
Robbed him of his real reality
Now he sits at home alone
Staring blankly at his phone
A middle-aged, melancholic divorcee
His name in lights?
Could’ve fooled me boy, you could’ve fooled me

Rituals

The students are desperate
Desperate for some semblance of normality
The clock strikes twelve, and as one
They turn toward the statue and bow

Shades of Green

Stain-glass canopies split the sun’s rays
Glistening crowns in the valley of kings
The forest whispers
As midsummer’s breeze ebbs and flows
An eagle soars
The sun slowly sets
And the vast sky is blue and sentimental

Nature’s soul is at the center of mine
Never to turn away
Trample the bodies of the fallen
Trample the promise of a fresh start
The first of new beginnings
The last reminder of times gone

Stands turn to sways signaling storms on the horizon
A change of pace, a change of mood
Motion is all that remains

Vernal Pool

Moonlight mirrored on the still water
Serpents patrol the slowly receding banks
Beauty lies beyond the eye
Frogs fill the air

Willful abandon
Monotonous regularity
A spectacle, a display, a cacophony, a chorus
To be heard, to be seen, a chance at immortality
Love is an afterthought
Most vie in vain

Water World

Veins stretched across an open land
Waves crashing on an ocean spray
Reach for the skies, mister
Heaven giveth and heaven taketh away

Whether peat, or clay, or lime, or sand
Cradle the body, rock to sleep
The test of time, the toll, the toil
Catch the fallen, the clouds will weep

Babbling brooks, raging rivers
Tributaries and channels
The streams that flow through the garden of Eden
Carving canyons, valleys, canals

Worship the way of the world
Sit back and admire
The lifeblood, the death knell, purgatory
Earth, wind, and fire

A drink, a drink! A toast, a toast!
To the fens that hath begotten
The swamp around us, all sticks and stones
Gone but not forgotten

Winter in Wisconsin

Storm front rolls in all gas no brakes
Carving its way across the eight Great lakes
The Midwest is starting to see its first flurry of flakes
Chrissakes
One wrong move is all it takes
Winter in Wisconsin
Cold as aught
You won’t find me out and about

Someone please pass the anti-freeze
Overnight it dropped a couple of degrees
Hanging from the traffic lights and hanging from the trees
Icicles as big as cross-country skis
Winter in Wisconsin
Cold as aught
You won’t find me out and about

From a distance the ice looks nice
From a distance a polar paradise
A picture-perfect postcard slice to entice
But forget your gloves and you’ll pay the price
Winter in Wisconsin
Cold as aught
You won’t find me out and about
That’s what the boy scouts shout
Tired of string cheese and sourkraut

Christ it’s cold, 15 below
And some wind chill to boot
Predicted six to nine feet of snow
On the off-chance work commute

Could’ve been in Charleston, somewhere by the sea
Where even the oysters are warm
Should’ve been in Cambridge, sipping afternoon tea
Strolling the cloisters my norm

But I’m here

Here tomorrow and here today
It might start thawing come what May
Maybe global warming will curb the delay
We can only cross our fingers and pray
Well that’s one way to pass the time away
Winter in Wisconsin
It’s as cold as fuck

With the Flow

The poor river
Battered and bruised
Black and blue
At the hands of egotistical adventurers
Damn them all!