Announcements

Announcements

"State the fact," he tells the board; "announce mid-
morning without warning; too late then to
retaliate. Say, 'times change, so on your
way. Redundancy accompanies age.'"

Walks easy through his fortress-grounds of trip-
alarms and snarling hounds. Youthful bride is
safely sealed from vengeful pawn and bitter
foe, and waits, consoled by views of vale and
river's-flow, gleaned through rail and safety-gates.

Mower idle on the lawn; barrow still
beside a wall; jobbing-boy holds toil in
scorn. ''We'll propel the youth to manhood with
a jolt. He'll learn the bitter-truth of how
to cope without a job, or hope. Collect
his due, then face his fate as men must do.''

Holding high the diamond-ring, gift for the
girl with everything – to rent her love and
smile awhile – into the room where hi-fi
croons her favourite tunes then, "Christ!" Mind won't
focus with the eyes; wife on table, lips
apart, hair a-splay, radiant as her
wedding day; boy... a man between her thighs.

Charlie Gregory
Cardiff

Tenerife

 

AW

TENERIFE

Teide, volcano: rhymes with lady

TENERIFE

Two lovers by the ragged strand once trod
the sooty sand; slender maid with raven
hair, fisher boy of bronze; the dazzling sun
a gold doubloon, the moon a silver coin.
From rocks, ink-black as witches' cats, they saw
the teeming sea; for Paraiso Beach was
cast for them by Teide's fiery blast, 'neath
Milky Way in wind-blown spray where whale and
dolphin play... Faceless fools from far-off lands
soon found their paradise. "Commercialise
then urbanize, the mountains are for sale.
Bulldoze, landfill, then jerry-build; sewage
on the surf. Roll out roads for traffic roar;
monoxide in the breeze. Machinery tear
at prickly pear and green banana trees.
Throw up bars and apartment blocks; bedim
the stars with flashing lights; fill the nights with
keyboard beat and dancing feet to drown the
ocean's anguished cries..." Her sculpture scorned, her
flanks defiled, the lady Teide broods with
hissing sulphur in her breath, inferno
for a heart. Such feelings pent, her rage must
vent to blast the curse and re-create a
silent land, where lizards laze and prey birds
ride the balmy breeze, while a ghostly girl
and fisher lad go gathering wild herbs.

Charlie Gregory

AW

…dead right - Haiku

...dead right

All humans have rights.
The killer is still human.
The dead cannot cry.

Night Flight

Night flight...

Luna’s shadow glides over the globe, silent and black as a phantom panther. The silver bird thunders along the runway and leaps, roaring, at the glow where conquering night swallows embers of the deposed sun.

Engines scream as the jet spins, full throttle, into the Great Circle, ripping up charted miles in a desperate dash to escape the terrors of the night. Darkness, black as Satan’s lum, rolls over the wild Atlantic, enshrouding all in a raven cloak. The plane, racing for the retreating light, forever butts into the relentless headwind.

The old man in 3c ponders, dozing, over his brief-role in the unending earthly drama. Sensing the unstoppable shadow speeding over the vast Americas, casting its sleep-spell over the wilting ground, he shivers at the chill of the unknown.

Suddenly the man is aware of a dazzling light stirring the hordes of Asia, infusing all with energy and life. Brilliant brightness illuminates the earth, searing away the tar-black stain and banishing the fears of night.

At peace now, the man drifts, smiling, into slumber...

And God’s a Lady–Haiku

...and God’s a lady

C of E withers
mosques springing up like Asda
trendy men grow beards

Ways of Wasting Time

Ways of Wasting Time

Sis goes on the game
Takes husbands lovers and friends
Gives fringe benefits

I'm the unknown bard
Writing words without a rhyme
Ways of wasting time

Gary and Me

Memories of an old army friend, recently called to the Last Post

Gary and Me

There’s marching and shouting and crunching of boots,
with men slapping rifles and cursing recruits;
we’re running and drilling from morning ‘til night,
go like a mad goat and get fit for the fight.
Now down to the pub for a laugh and a shout,
for a lark with your mates is what it’s about.
We soldier together, do Gary and me.

They teach us to shoot and to eavesdrop and spy,
and then send us abroad to give it a try.
They shut us in camp for long months at a time,
attempts at escape are a locking-up crime.
We crawl through the wire in the black of the night,
and leg into town for the Turkish delight.
We buck it together, do Gary and me.

Now, sleepless and angry, the boss does his rounds.
A voice in his head tells him, “Two out of bounds!”
But we’ve shuffled our beds with some of the crew...
He sees someone there but he doesn’t know who.
Come fire or come water, we both find a way
of having a laugh at the end of the day.
Always one-step ahead, that’s Gary and me.

EOKA and Suez drift in with the tide,
but Gary and me take it all in our stride.
For I-corps and Signals and GCHQ,
we track Arab kings and the Gypo aircrew;
get a grunt from the boss and, “Thank you,” from Ike,
who waves a big stick from an invalid trike.
We work hard and play hard, do Gary and me.

No matter how precious, all stories must end,
but the gift in the theme is finding a friend.
Now Gary’s moved on to the misty Last Post
I’ll bring up the rear while he’s clearing the coast.
Then, heads put together, we’ll suss the place out;
if we don’t like the vibes, then be in no doubt,
we’ll just crawl through the wire, will Gary and me.

Charlie Gregory
December 2013

Quick and the Dead - Haiku

Quick and the Dead - Haiku

Grandpa Pillock died
Train-spotting days are over
Will was all numbers

Granny struggles on
Grinds Mixes Vacuums Mows Strims
"Machin’ry makes work”

She Said

She said...

‘I dance to the beat of the pulse of life.
An urge, I surge and romp and jump and climb.
Not pretty and coy or embryo wife,
I'm a child that's wild and craving playtime.
I'll skip along as free as my brother;
no fettered skivvy-the-maid who will toy
with your boring chores, some trainee mother.
That woman-role is to let man stay boy.

Don't make us demure before we mature.
Don't shackle your daughter if not your son.
Rules that enchain us will never endure.
It's soul, not body, that forms the person.
Not shape, but humanity, makes us tick.
Spirit's a flame in the mind – not the dick.’

Charlie Gregory

Cleft Sticks

06-11-2010

Sonnet
in memory of X
who escaped from Idi Amin
then had to be chemically castrated

                                               Cleft sticks
                              She-devil magic wiggles wobble-orb
                              of siren-cleft, thus shaping heady dream.
                              This dimple-flesh all reasoning absorbs,
                              then finding bristle-mound hear loathing scream.
                              Around I pray for counsel and advice
                              on staying wayward thought or wilful hand,
                              but only rate some pill and jab device.
                              Flaunt-maids entice then quacks don't understand.

                              Do women dress to promise or deny?
                              Are medics meant to gag us or to cure?
                              Our purdah-girls go by with downcast eye,
                              dull robes bedim the glare of their allure;
                              but bimboes bray-out, "See – forbidden thrill,"
                              and they, or drugs, control my very will.

Charlie Gregory
Samaritan Days