Friday, 7 September 2012

The Night Belongs To Cats

Most revellers have long since fled,
And I, alone, am out of bed,
Walking the streets so still and dead,
The night belongs to cats.

See lordly Toms on high survey,
Nocturnal realms where they hold sway,
While others go in search of prey,
The night belongs to cats.

As mournful yowls fragment the night,
And deep in shadow, eyes shine bright,
I wander where I have no right,
This night belongs to cats.

© Graeme Williams 2012



The ACEO is a picture painted by my wife, Chris, specifically for this poem. If you want to check out more of her work you can find it under her facebook page at  Artistic Originals.

Saturday, 1 September 2012

Short Bible Stories

My Poems presented using Jonathan Feinberg's Wordle App

A while back I entered LightenUp Online's competition for September (competition 18) which was to rewrite a story from the Old or the New Testament in no more than four lines. Unfortunately, entry was limited to just two attempts per person and neither of my two offerings made it into the September issue. Nevertheless, I thought I'd post them here anyway.   


Sarah Laughed
When Sarah heard the news she laughed,
She thought the angels’ talk was daft,
To be the mother of a son,
When she’s collecting her pension?
Genesis 18:10

Death of Jezebel
Jezebel, all limbs akimbo,
Got chucked out a first floor window.
Won herself a reputation,
Of dying by defenestration.
2 Kings 9:30-33

Kosher
If you read Deuteronomy,
As a guide to gastronomy,
Then thou shalt not eat,
Milk mixed with meat.
Deuteronomy 14:21

David and Goliath
Goliath won immortal fame
All Israel trembled at his name,
But all that fame went to his head,
When David killed him stone cold dead.
1 Samuel 17

Bathsheba and David
When Bathsheba, Elim’s daughter,
Had a bath, King David saw her,
And he took her for his lover,
Now it’s him who’s in hot water.
2 Samuel 11

Saturday, 21 July 2012

Friday Night

It’s Friday night, just gone midnight
And kicking-out time in the town.
As I sit watching from my car,
Deserted pavements teem with life,
And people fill the streets again.

The bearded men from Mosques emerge,
Their Salat done, they’re homeward bound.
While from the pubs the clubbers pour,
Their spirits high as they head off
To taxis waiting in the rain.

On Friday night the cultures cross,
And pass before each other’s eyes,
Invisible, I sit and watch,
This drama, sacred and profane.

© Graeme Williams 2012

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Dear Tooth Fairy...

Missing Tooth

I lost a tooth at school today,
Although I don’t know when or where.
The teacher sent us out to play
And, suddenly, it wasn’t there.

I realised, as I ran about,
There was a gap where it had been,
Somewhere my tooth had just popped out.
I looked but it could not be seen.

So when I go, at last, to bed,
Although my tooth could not be found,
I’ll put this note beside my head,
And hope that I’ll still get a pound.

© Graeme Williams 2012

Photograph taken from srett's photostream on flickr and used under the creative commons licence.

Saturday, 14 July 2012

The Rubaiyat of the Reluctant Commuter

Motorway traffic

The panic starts, I’ve lost my key,
Until my wife finds it for me,
Then to the car to join the fray,
And off I go, reluctantly.

I make this journey twice a day,
First, off to work to earn my pay,
Then when my servitude is done,
It’s back I go the other way.

Not that I mind once I’ve begun,
Sometimes the journey can be fun,
With music on the radio,
When I’m alone I sing along.

But then I hit a contraflow,
And as the traffic starts to slow,
The DJ says there’s some delay,
But, sadly, I already know.

Looks like I will be late today,
I should have gone the other way,
Now it’s too late; I’m in the queue,
All I can do is sit and pray.

I might as well admire the view,
No point in feeling stressed or blue,
There’s nothing I can do or say,
Just wait my turn to trickle through.

I drive along the motorway,
I did the same thing yesterday,
Tomorrow morning, guess I’ll be,
Wrapped up in bed; it’s Saturday.

© Graeme Williams 2012

Photograph taken from Lee Haywood's photostream on flickr and used under the creative commons licence.

The poem itself is an interlocking rubaiyat in which the first, second and fourth line rhyme with each other and the third line rhymes with the first, second and forth line of the next stanza and so on. The third line of the final stanza rhymes with the first, second and forth line of the first stanza.