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Casey's Poetry
UNFORTUNATELY GOOGLE UPDATED SITES HAS DELETED ALL THE POETRY LINKS SO, APART FROM THE FIRST FEW POEMS, THIS IS SIMPLY A LIST
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Elegy to a ‘T’
(on the death of Thatcher)
Calliope has gladly quit the scene,
so epic verses you must not expect,
for I will say but plainly what I mean,
which you may well agree with, in effect.
‘Tis nature’s way to stifle not a yawn,
when oxygen so long has been deferred.
Retention, even anal, does not mourn
the passing of this stinking hoary turd.
The guardians of the bowels have no will
to constipate the World another day,
and even if they had, they lack the skill
to keep this bird from slithering away.
Processions now, so rarely are they seen
for funerals, and even less for strikes.
A leper would declare the hearse unclean,
and refugees would leave on stolen bikes.
A myriad of flies will fill the air:
the carriers of every known disease,
and no-one worthy of a name will care
to register among the presentees.
Yet, even when the corpse lies in its tomb,
and banners, once again can be unfurled,
that such a thing should ever leave the womb,
is proof that there’s no justice in the World.
This evil World, where evil is for hire,
will choose a New controller of the purse.
There’s little chance that evil will retire,
though hopefully, it won’t be any worse.
The toxic waste of wickedness deceased,
encased in concrete, wrapped with iron weeds,
will never see its afterlife released,
and no more smell the blood on which it feeds.
The mushroom cloud that lurked behind the face,
whenever patriotic songs were sung,
no longer will be taking pride of place,
where children hunt for mushrooms in the dung.
ORWELL WAS RIGHT
Strong leadership’s what you, the people craved,
and now the time has come to choose your God.
A cross, a prayer, a promise or a nod
Will maximise your chance of being saved.
You’re free to choose to whom you’ll be enslaved,
By show of hands, or ballot, from a squad
Of candidates, particularly odd,
With manifestos suitably engraved.
And, each the less he knows, the more will shout,
Whereby all opposition is deterred.
A demagogue will go to any length
To keep the voice of truth from being heard.
Does power rest in knowledge? That, I doubt.
Experience shows that ignorance is strength.
Petrarchan Sonnet
HAIKU: THE BLAG SOCIETY
Media devised
misrepresentocracy:
slavery disguised.
OLYMPIC HAIKUS
Modern Buyathlon:
Workers pay for all the things
they already own.
Modern Tryathlon:
Workers strive to make ends meet.
Tories won’t let them.
Modern Pentathlon:
Tories aim to sign away
all the workers’ rights.
Sebastian Coe
and his coe-conspirators
run off with the loot.
Olympic game plan:
Extraordin’ry rundition.
Now that’s torcherous!
By Casey (Syd Sonnet), May 2012
JUBILEE HAIKU
Dire Monde Jubilee.
First in line to recession.
Double-dip Hooray!
By Syd Sonnet, May 2012
A DEAD LOSS
A GENEROUS GESTURE MISUNDERSTOOD
A POSITION ON TWO
BALLS
BEING REASONABLE
BLOWING UP A STORM
COMMUNITY POLICING
COMPETITIVE WAGE-RATE BLUES
DIRTY BUSINESS
DOCTOR AT SEA
EARACHE
EPITAPH TO CHET BAKER
FREE WILL TRIOLET
FROM SPARTACUS TO CHRIST KNOWS WHAT
FROZEN IN TIME
GRETA GARBO SPEAKS
HOME
IL PRINCIPE
LAST ORDERS
LIES, DAMN LIES, AND INFLATION
LIMERICK
MORE VACANT SPACE AT THE TOP
NATURE IN THE RED
NEGOTIATING REDUNDANCIES
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST
PSALM 115
RETURN OF THE MILD BUNCH
ROMANTIC FICTION
SILLY VILLANELLE
SOME DAY, MY PRINCE WILL COME
TALL SHIPS TALL TALES
THE ECONOMIC FACTS OF LIFE
THE GRAFF SPRAY INCIDENT
THE GRIDIRON HEEL
THE "ONE HORSE IS BETTER THAN..." NONET
THE SAME DIFFERENCE
THE SERVANT OF THE PEOPLE
THE "TELEVISION - WHAT!!!" SONNET
THE WILL TO WILT
Casey has written music for THE WILL TO WILT, to accompany two voices reciting simultaneously. Press the link below to hear it:
THE WILL TO WILT (MUSIC)
THREE TRIOLETS
TO BE, OR WOT?
TO WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
VITA FINITA
WAR AND PEACE
WHAT WILL IT LOOK LIKE WHEN IT'S FINISHED?
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