MS (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

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I’d love to be inside the head
of the Phantom Oner as she
strikes again… with one deadly One,
cuts the previous ten right down
to a grovelling 5.5…

‘that’ll teach you, you big-headed smug,
with your groupies and brown-nosers; all your pissy posse…
THIS IS NOT A POEM…’

and with one bound – I’m free!

No longer need I try to write
a poem rich in metaphor like some jewelled scabbard,
declaring sparkling wealth and power;
distracting from the question,
is the sharp sword, of discrimination,
still there, sharp, inside?

or a poem so full of music’s sound,
it sings itself into the mind
like leprechaun with emerald guile,
in the ear of sleeping child…

or, any other sort of poem –
I’m free … now I know I can
please everyone, someone, no-one.. on a scale
from nought to ten or should that be
from ten to nought?

I can now just be; be my one self…
write from the heart;
remembering that all others have a heart…so,
thanks, O noble one…

User Rating: 2,7 / 5 ( 5 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

7.62 for the opening and 10 for the rest
What's wrong with One? With only Nought added it is great, so it is great by Itself, personally I most dislike Two.....
Oh go on, since you're grovelling, have a ten. (Hey, let's both get inside her head. There's plenty of space there, after all) . t x