Waxingfat
My little minx come here, come sit a while
preserve us from the pout—is that a smile
that hovers on the lip—let's charm the Fay
until the tired sun has ceased to play,
bug snuggled into bed with silent night
and tucked the grumpy city out of sight.
Let's draw the curtain back before you sleep:
over the roofs where cats and robbers creep
are tower blocks that twinkle far away,
There daddy shuffles paper every day.
That dirty round thing? That's the rising moon
crossing the Mersey like a hot balloon.
Screw up those flashing eyes, it's time to start,
all stories touch upon the thankless heart,
will it be sad? Perhaps—the world we know
Is often so unkind—if we could go
to heaven quicker—would you be the first?
why then we'd have to tolerate the worst
that every busybody cares to fling
without the flutter of your cooling wing.
Soar above Britain's rough and stormy capes
glide to the land of plump and luscious grapes,
the sunny haunts of Homer and beyond
the honeyed walls of golden Trebisond,
where old men group to gossip in the squares
or grind their ancient bones in rocking chairs;
Strange odours thrill the European nose—
and picture postcard fishing vessels doze—
Dark sailors squeeze the hand and clear the throat
to advertise "The best glass bottomed boat."
Our destination though is WAXINGFAT!
you take the signpost left at Ararat
and walk the crunchy spice road—lest you drop
with hunger, there's a little roadside shop;
don't ask for burgers, bagels, buns or fishes,
its rancid yak-milk set in tiny dishes
you must down two—refusal will offend
(take my advice avoid the chilli blend)
Well hereabouts some centuries ago
AUGUST, IMPERIAL, BROMLI-BI-BO
determining to elevate his name
laid out a city suited to his fame
instructing architect and engineer
"To waste no effort, energy or tear.
on beauty more than frowning high command
on welcome more than arrogant demand—
—till Babylon appears the very least
of all the wonders of the ancient east!
Build dove frequented, fountain foaming squares
and useful libraries with spiral stairs
small hostelries for visiting relations
and parliaments for very short orations."
The streets, most suitable for gentle strolls
were filled with crinolines and parasols,
the soft pink stone would smile in the sun
and jolly gargoyles joined in the fun,
craning their necks from castellated towers
entwined with scarves of red and yellow flowers.
And pleasure gardens ran along the walls,
where water courses breaking over falls
went giggling on their way through pebble beds
or burst afresh from marble lion heads
to circulate through ponds by secret means;
as stately shoals of carp like submarines,
cruised down below—while loiterers above
cast out their daisy-chains with sighs of love.
The gentlemen walked out with stove pipe hats,
wore shiny leather shoes and smart cravats:
when lunch arrived they took the usual break
for beef and beer and ended up with cake,
if there was any cause to celebrate
like birthdays or promotions
—oh but wait
three hundred furtive years have flurried by
"Can this be WAXINGFAT?" I hear you cry
The crowds look angry, taciturn and glum
the paving stones are blotched with chewing gum
the roads are filled with common household waste
the air is rank and leaves a nasty taste.
Let's sally through the streets—prepare for shocks
the populace are vexed with mortise locks,
and anxious shop assistants scuttle round,
and rattle heavy shutters to the ground
as gangs of young offenders congregate
and rob at will the foolish walking late.
The addict full of subterfuge and tricks
is pawning shame to get a daily fix
The papers flapping round the litter bins
are full of brazen tales of private sins.
While politicians puffing up with pride
claim overarching frameworks as their guide,
(and every speech conveys a mighty heap
of guarantees that nobody will keep)
I have to say with grave and telling force
that most of them have opted for divorce
or just abandoned promising to cherish
through sickness, health, come property or perish
Now don't be so alarmed—it's not my job
to paint a wretched scene and make you sob,
be thankful little love, be very glad
you don't live in a nation half as bad!
How did this haven lose its quiet charms
by civil strife or force of foreign arms?
Alas, the perpetrators had the least
good reason to disturb the goodly feast
while striving for success, some fatal flaws
got swept beneath the carpet of applause
Take one, who's driven by parental pride
to be the best and shun all else beside!
Add one that's yearning for some small affection
but sensitive turns inward with rejection—
another, angry, clutching at control
determined to emancipate the whole.
Simmer the lot—sprinkle some verbal glitz
shake in some rapid short cut intellects,
then spread for social dinner minded days,
apply a comfortable and wealthy glaze.
Just swallow whole—
and so with no more wait
Let's meet the first of this triumvirate!
A fateful night—the moon wide eyed with wonder
the distant heavens roll and crack with thunder,
the crowds absorbed with merriment and balls
oblivious of the vital caterwauls
that mark the first appearance of a sage
destined to change the thinking of the age.
The child became a man and being curious
to prove the present understanding spurious
engaged a ship and company of tars
stocked up with formalin and storage jars.
Scoured the southern seas and coral bays
pinning the creepy-crawlies onto trays
and when he could—took this and that with wings
to demonstrate the origin of things.
In summary: no sudden big creation,
soup for starters—followed by crustacean,
some fish, a little meat and then some more,
but service—oh so slow—the kitchen door
would never open less you took a turn
ten thousand times Methuselah's sojourn.
To prove the lazy rate of change, this hero,
establishing his thesis with a zero,
not one, but many! At the first objection
called up a further large projection
endowed a grand academy of sorts
the UNIVERSITY of ADDINGNOUGHTS!
Each year, despite the howls inimical,
cast theorems and proofs empirical;
though, cautiously at first, by million
progressed to postulate by billion;
each graduate must stretch his ancestry
the more the noughts the greater the degree!
Our second had a beard and by his looks
spent all his daylight buried in old books.
While studying the Bi-Bo history
at Bromly's ranging central library,
grew rather too intense (I fear dyspeptic)
in trying to explain the dialectic.
How, cultural and economic law
go round in weary circuits evermore,
unless a mighty intellect break free
and banish ignorance from history!
This meteoric insight filled his mind.
Since wicked Bromly and his dreadful kind
oppressed the struggling masses with their wealth!
His remedy for everlasting health?
Why, squeeze the swollen heads and prick the boils!
and when the wound is clean—share out the spoils!
Mind, that would need a very special breed
of new humanity devoid of greed!
And who most qualified to grasp the hour?
but those who understand the use of power,
such leaders who with fearless energy
might for a season (though reluctantly)
assume a light control with heavy heart
until the underdogs assumed their part
and all was one big happy holiday
and every operative had equal pay!
Surprise! Surprise! no shortages occurred
of eager followers to spread the word,
who'd sacrifice all gain to head the queue
and help the interim arrangements through.
They ran about with crimson swirling flags
with tattered coats and ragamuffin rags,
daubed slogans such as "Workers must unite"
on windows in the middle of the night:—
(as their adopted pseudonym explains
the people's party of VENEERING PANES)
Our third contributor—was want to work
in exorcising Minotaurs that lurk
within the dreamy labyrinth of thought.
A friend to those who practised ADDINGNOUGHTS:
he'd skim away the uneventful gloss
till real memories would rise like dross;
you could—if not escape—confront the fears
long buried in the catalogue of years.
The patient would arrive—for those in doubt
the Lamb and Flag near by could offer stout
—thus fortified with courage from the vine
sought out the courtyard and physician's sign.
"Prepare," he said, "For I shall plumb the deep
associations—but first a little sleep."
The patient thus, would let his eyeballs switch
in time to Mr. Mesmer's swinging watch,
and lo a random run of anecdotes:
(the doctor hastily assembling notes)
to map a moment, graphically a blip,
to coin the technicality—a 'SLIP!'
A 'SLIP' would make the diagnosis plain!
The sole determinates within the brain
of motivation, cognisance and deed
deriving from propensity to breed.
Thus every fault or failure to thrive
lay squarely with the reproductive drive!
For clients keen to pay above the rate
he gave a large commemorative plate,
with brief description of the time and place
and analytic details of the case,
by which the process known as POTTERY
became a byword for this therapy.
These three were seen as harbingers of much
defined progressive, modern and in touch.
Opponents that should dare to contradict
were sniggered at—pronounced as incorrect!
Then, lawyers of the barrack room brigade
whipped up the mob to form a grand parade.
They marched and whistled—hypertensive veins
throbbed on the foreheads of excited PANES;
with bald heads bobbing in the swaying mile
came POTTERY's determined rank and file.
Up, up and upward swelled the beacon song
of 'NOUGHTS FOREVER' from the surging throng!
With fierce banners lettering their wrath
they hoisted high the heavy swirling cloth:—
amidst the effort, weight and aching pain
if one fell down—another took the strain.
BI-BO had never witnessed such a sight
of blazing eyes gesticulating spite,
whose leaders' pleading, rattled heaven's door
to free them all from bondage evermore!
With grievances to overflow a list
they swung their arms and shook the whitened fist
at hapless Bromly—actually his heirs
for he had now been dead for many years
(a living Bromly? well I do protest
would hang the leadership and whip the rest!
but then the vigour of that ancient house
had dwindled to the valour of a mouse.)
This great assembly—gathered out of doors
made proclamations take the place of laws.
The First and great directive to the wise
"Let each do as he likes in his own eyes!"
for ADDINGNOUGHTS have proved beyond a doubt
through biologic chance we came about.
VENEERING must succeed—all must conform
to economic programmes of reform;
the just elite—lest turmoil rock the realm—
shall be excluded while they hold the helm;
the timorous who lose their mental grip
shall be restored with state run POTTERSHIP
The monarchy despite contrary motions
adopted by and by most of their notions
and fashioned via legislative rule
the famous Bi-Bo ALL-TOGETHER school
(You may recall that old forgotten rhyme
the resolutions of that troubled time
got twisted, re-designed and set to song
"The king who put the ALLTOGETHER on.")
But here I end—the genies once released
were loud to crush dissent until it ceased.
If rising generations carped and whined
and sought the wisdom Bromly once opined,
then clever academics popping up
denounced the founding fatherhood—corrupt! :—
—by digging deep to find the slightest fault,
or rubbing in old wounds the verbal salt,
created such an aura of disgust
he must be bad, or worse a slave of lust!
—that worthy, hardly worth a second look,
became a footnote in a history book.
The job was done so well—the populace
forgetting ancient ways and ancient grace
without Example, Fear of GOD or Creed
just swallowed whole the mutton chop of greed
They soon became a small short-sighted race
where drunkenness and cursing vied for place.
The oscillating rhythm of guitars
became stock entertainment in the bars
and wedding days erupted on the street
in festivals of decibel and beat:
—the craze for music bands became a rout—
then kicking air tight leather bags about
in pitched affrays to timpani and flute:—
till someone introduced the model boot
and paid the athlete to swoon and fall
to great effect both on and off the ball,
as panting crowds roared up communal play
from sultry August round to floral May.
My tale is told—the years fled on so fast
the early optimism didn't last
an ominous suspicion gnawed a few
and creeping pessimism slowly grew
a something lost—you couldn't quite decide
had ebbed away, an element of pride
a sense of being part of something vast
that gave a present meaning to the past:
Well there you are—it's time again for sleep
now promise me, not one audacious peep
down stairs my little minx, and don't you fret
there never was a land of WAXINGFAT
you live in Merry England—what's to fear
credulity like that could never surface here!
