Famous Last Words - Stephen A. Roberts

In this age of Facebook, Twitter and cybercrime
Our famous last words will be sourced online
But back in the old days when people were croaking
To the bedside audience their bon mots were spoken

Adam Faith, Budgie, his final act alive
Was to pour his vitriol on Channel 5
Whilst Bing Crosby saw a final fairway
Leading up to the heavenly stairway.
Food often features when someone pegs
Roy Jenkins famously ordered up some eggs
Yes strange the mind as it dies
Pitt the Younger requested pies.
Philosopher Voltaire in his deathbed throes
Would not add Satan to his foes
Though these words uttered turning blue
May not necessarily be all true...

Alcohol is the cause of many a final curse
Before the arrival of the hearse
John Maynard Keynes, economist
Regretted time not getting pissed
While the mighty actor Bogie
Joked he died because of weak Martinis.
Dylan Thomas drowned his troubles
With eighteen whiskies, but were they doubles?
Picasso somewhat generously
Bade them all "drink to me"
And down in Tennessee they think
That Jack Daniel requested one last drink

From booze to weapons, the cause of many
Quotes for premature obituaries
"Et tu Brute?" Caesar spluttered
As with a dagger he was gutted
Poor General Sedgwick could not foresee
A sudden improvement in enemy accuracy
Terry Kath, the Chicago band musician
Forgot the chambered ammunition!
"The cyanide's not working" Hitler said
Then put the Luger to his head
I must admit, I made that up
It was probably Eva that fired the shot...

So rehearse your lines for posterity
I've just remembered what mine would be
"Popping to the pub, won't be late for tea"
"Famous Last Words" she said to me.

Stephen A. Roberts

Johnny, Dear Johnny - Ian Duquemin

Johnny, dear Johnny, since you sailed away
Now a year, seven months and a day
But your ship it has not yet returned
Though my heart it has hungered and yearned

Oh Johnny, dear Johnny, my only true love
Do you see me in stars high above?
How I've prayed on those nights all alone
For the wind to have blown you back home

Johnny, dear Johnny, I've cried every day
From the moment you drifted away
You remained with me here in my heart
Though the tides they have kept us apart

Oh Johnny, dear Johnny, the sea is so deep
Like the promise you swore you would keep
On this shore I'll be waiting for you
For your sails to come into view

Johnny, dear Johnny, did you die in the waves?
Did your crew meet their watery graves?
As the sea seems to whisper goodbyes
Bringing sadness and tears to my eyes

Oh Johnny, dear Johnny, please come back to me
Be the husband you promised to be
Don't leave me alone for another day more
And honour that promise you swore

Ian Duquemin

Haunted House - Hugo Furst

I climb the stair to go to bed.
The staircase bends. The light is dim.
I see the cat. It stands quite still.
I freeze. That cat is six months dead.
He stares at me. I stare at him.
The air grows cold. I feel a chill
as it abruptly turns and flees
around the stair-head, taking flight,
quick, slick as an assassin’s knife.
I cannot breathe. My heart will seize
if, when I switch my bedroom light,
the cat awaits, returned to life.

Hugo Furst

Eeyore the Eyesore - Donald Keyman

Eeyore the eyesore couldn't find a home
He's the ugly donkey forever condemned to roam
Carrier of Jesus and star of Nativity plays
Placed on a pedestal for his stubborn ways

Now there's a deadline for an application
To allow the mule to remain in his location
Lest anyone dare suggest a more fitting place
To display old Eeyore's sad and greenly face

No-one wants him in the Town
Some even said to melt him down
So just send a simple letter please
To leave him with the recycled Christmas trees!

Donald Keyman

On This Day - Kathy Figueroa

Let us celebrate the goodness of Man
The higher qualities and noble deeds
Let all people rejoice with poems and songs
For that’s what this weary world surely needs

Let’s think of what’s kind, all that’s beautiful
Though burdens of sorrow render it hard
The weight of cold darkness can be lifted
To warm hearts and souls of those sorely scarred

So let us make a conscious decision
To magnify all that’s good, and rejoice
Though life’s troubles will be cast upon us
Triumph over suffering is our choice

Kathy Figueroa

"On This Day" was published in the January 11, 2018, issue of The Bancroft Times newspaper.

Negative Earth - Lyndon Queripel

There’s no easy way out of here
There’s no secret track
I tried sometime last year
And I was lucky to get back

There’s a northbound path uphill
It’s so crooked and narrow
You can climb along it until
You’re scared of your own shadow

You can cross the border down south
But the bitter wind and the rain
Will leave a sour taste in your mouth
And then blow you back again

It’s a wicked trail to the east
Just days of dust and thirst
The long nights are cold at least
But I don’t know which is the worst

It seems your dreams are way out west
But it’s so full of dirty tricks
You’ll be left alone and depressed
Just looking for another fix

So as you travel near and far
Your ideals will start to curdle
Look behind from where you are
And you’ll find it’s all a circle.

Lyndon Queripel

Mr Pol - Oscar Milde

When Mrs Pol goes off to see her aunt
who lives across the town with umpteen cats,
Mr Pol skips upstairs with a smile
to slip on his wife’s best frocks and hats

and pull on her silk stockings and high heels,
her bra, with fillets filling out the slack,
and sometimes when he’s feeling in the mood
he’ll don her cheery little plastic mac.

He’s played these naughty games since, as a child,
he dressed in Mother’s bonnet and her shoes:
he’s not ashamed exactly, but concerned
at the hostility of other people’s views.

So how does he explain it to himself?
It’s really a compulsion not a choice.
It brings to mind his mother’s heady scent,
the fond-remembered romance in her voice.

Oscar Milde

La fille dans le soleil de soir - Tony Bradley

I honestly don't know now, I could have been dreaming
one hazy September evening, high tide at Port Soif
beautiful clouds on the horizon, pink, lilac, and purple
the sunset glowed scarlet, as the haze drifted off .

So peaceful, so lovely, I sat at a bench
just absorbing the beauty, as the sun slowly sank down
then, a noise, a girl just sat alongside me
smiling, but with a sort of a frown.

"You don't need to travel, . . . to see THIS," I said
with a sweet little voice, she said "Non"
the strangest thing, when I looked again
the bench was empty, the girl was gone.

Tony Bradley

Pierre And Aimee - Tony Gardner

Albert Ferbrache from L'Eree
Proposed a trip across the bay
And young Thomas Queripel
Came along with Clem as well
They asked the old man Jean Le Notre
If he still had his old boat
And could they borrow just one time
The vessel for a Valentine

For a sum he happily
Let them sail off in the sea
Albert, Tom and Clem were there
With three ladies fine and fair.
Miss Le Couteur, Miss Dobree
And Miss Lenfesty made three
Let's sail, Albert Ferbrache said
Happy times are just ahead.

Halfway over Rocquaine Bay
Skies turned dark and steely gray
Wind whipped waves soaked all the crew
Happiness and ardour flew
Help us, save us! was the cry
We did'nt come out here to die
On the shore Pierre De La Mare
Heard their cries as he stood there

His sweetheart, Miss Aimee Dobree
Was on his mind tonight as he
Launched his little fishing craft
To try to save the stricken raft
He pulled his oars 'gainst heavy seas
The rain blew down, so cold to freeze
And then Pierre's fondest hopes were dashed
As on the rocks the old boat smashed

But bobbing up upon the sea
Came God's generosity
Six went out, and came back three
One was Miss Aimee Dobree
Pierre loved Aimee all her life
And Aimee loved to be his wife
Whether skies were blue or gray
In the cottage by the bay

Tony Gardner