Friday poetry corner

[n5gooner]

Something for the rag and bone man
"Over my dead body"
Something big is gonna happen
"Over my dead body"
Someone's son or someone's daughter
"Over my dead body"
This is how I end up getting sucked in
"Over my dead body"

I'm gonna go to sleep let this wash all over me

You know we don't want the monster taking over
"Tiptoe round tie him down"
We don't want the loonies taking over
"Tiptoe round tie them down"

May pretty horses
Come to you
As you sleep
I'm gonna go to sleep
Let this wash
All over me.

[AlfredJPruffock]

Excellent contributions so far from WB and the esteemed Francko.

Tired are we WB ...well heres one from Mr Lennon


I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink

I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink

I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink

No,no,no.

I'm so tired I don't know what to do
I'm so tired my mind is set on you

I wonder should I call you but I know what you'd do

You'd say I'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm

You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane

You know I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind

I'm so tired, I'm feeling so upset
Although I'm so tired I'll have another cigarette

And curse Sir Walter Raleigh
He was such a stupid get


Sleep , Sleep Pruffock doth sleep no more ...

[Francko]

The Russian mind

The Russian Mind

Willful and avid mind,-
The Russian mind is dangerous as flame:
So unrestrainable, so clear,
A happy and a gloomy mind.

Like the steady hand of a compass
It sees the pole through swells and fog;
It leads the timid will
From distracted dreams to life.

Like an eagle gazing through the mist
To survey the valley's dust
It soberly contemplates the earth,
Floating in a mystic night.

Vyacheslav Ivanovich Ivanov

[wobbegong]

. . . and as I'm feeling knackered this morning, let's kick off with this little gem from little Johnny Keats.

"To sleep"

O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight!
Shutting with careful fingers and benign
Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower'd from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,
In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities;
Then save me, or the passèd day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards,
And seal the hushèd casket of my soul