English Poems From Scarecrow

Fabulous Fungii Pavement mushroom, bearded fieldcap, fabulous fungi names Snakeskin grisette, bug sputnik, drab tooth, the pretender Dark crazed cap, weeping toothcrust, drumstick truffle club Chicken of the woods, bald knight, the flirt, twisted deceiver Gassy webcap, lentil shanklet, dewdrop dapperling Common birds nest, bedstraw smut, hot lips, golden navel Devils fingers, goblet parachute, snake tongue truffle club Scurvy twiglet, plums and custard, mealy frosted funnel Whiskery milkcap, club foot, cinnamon jelly baby King Alfred's cakes, pink disco, and the contorted strangler Mint mildew, vampire's bane, seek out jack o lantern Shameless stinkhorn, hairy stereum, deathcap, mealy oyster Lion shield, hair sedge smut, look, there's destroying angel Wet rot, turquoise elfcup, and then, moon carrot rust Midnight disco, witch's butter, bulbous honey fungus Funeral bell, tiger's eye, and crust We are the fabulous fungi, that grow in Britain's woods Shaped like umbrellas, trumpets, plates and some like burglars' hoods Annus Horribilis "For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we carry nothing out." King James Version 1 Timothy 6: 7 All of us have had an annus horribilis, But being commoners, our griefs are private Some envy the late queen's titles and estates We don't require security to live We do not live in fear of assassination Tabloid exposure, death in underground tunnels None of us have been gifted marvellous things, Not including the priceless jewellery From Australia: 500 tins of pineapple. Tilley's ‘Timid Joe' Dog soap From Fiji: sperm whale teeth. From Canada: 100 foot Totem pole. A troop of Burmese horses, two beavers From France: Grasshopper shaped wine cooler. From Cameroon: African forest elephant, Jumbo III From USA: Cowboy boots. From British Virgin Islands: a pound of salt From the Seychelles: two giant turtles From Brazil: two sloths From Germany: a canary From New Zealand: a Maori canoe From Tonga: two floormats From Nigeria: the Yoruba throne From London: a digging machine from Crossrail For us, it's socks or stockings, perfume, teddies Or items from a shop that gives exchanges The monarch has gone beyond the need for gifts In London, the great and the good Make speeches to commemorate the moment Near Balmoral, in the villages around Folk mourn the passing of a long-term neighbour Un-ostentatiously, with quiet resignation Respectfully, they lay their flowers down Gout: for ma faither His dietary needs were mild and few He didn't drink and gorge like some old trout And yet for days such agony he knew He kept good company: such famous sufferers! Ludwig Van Beethoven, Christopher Columbus Sir Isaac Newton, Queen Victoria Henry VIII, Sam Johnson, Nostradamus John Calvin, Da Vinci, USA's Ben Franklin Charles Dickens, Michaelangelo, Karl Marx All were struck down by this infernal curse The toe joint feeling as if chewed by sharks Henry VIII was treated by these means Chopped worms, pig's marrow, spicy herbs mixed well Boiled with the carcass of a red haired dog And did it help? He's not alive to tell! The Tarland Nuclear Bunker Facts from Subterranea Britannica., and the website of CND In a square compound, an eerie place to hunker 50 yards west of Tomnaverie Stands the Tarland Nuclear Bunker Inside is a folding table, built for a long stint A shelf, a cupboard, Two original folding wood/canvas chairs, A long bench seat, uncushioned, hard as flint A BPI mount, a BT junction box Various papers, an ROC magazine, A low table, a fire blanket, a mirror with a glint A candle holder, two dome keys, a splint, A net, a crowbar, saucepan and a kettle. To be furnished with food and a toilet Spartan enough to test the strongest mettle Opened in 1960, closed in 199I Staffed by local volunteers of the ROC Would you like to fill their shoes? Would you choose to be one the few survivors? With all your kindred blown to infinity? If an atom bomb fell on Cromar This small group might survive, to Monitor radiation levels. Report back to central command. Though no farm would be left on the land One, would have to emerge to scan the damage Though nothing would remain, not even wreckage If a nuclear bomb was dropped The heat would reach a temperature Of several million degrees. The heat flash would vaporise All human tissue. Animals, homes and trees People would become shadows burnt on stone All oxygen would be sucked out of the atmosphere. Nothing. Not even bone. There would be radioactive rain, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Would thunder across the sky And all life as we know would surely die Scarecrow I'm landlocked I'm one of a kind Pariah of the fields Wedded to soil Beaten by air My only encounter is with crows Every dawn's A green light For them to attack To mock, To intimidate As I stand Nailed to my cross Then, I yearn for night The scent of the fields The balm of moonlit dew In the dark Being land-locked's irrelevant I dream I'm running Through a field of wheat Like the hare I spotted once In Clover Meadow Toots On a boogy woogy piano That's a-jammin and a-noodlin Makin all the audience Stop their goofin Focus on the music folks My trumpet's smokin Misty gets me sad Till I'm near to chokin Hear Sweet Georgie Brown And The Look of Love Till each doll is smoochin With her turtledove This red hot session Has me root-toot-tootin Till my trumpet-muffler Has the music mutin