POETRY BY JOHN HOLT
SILENT POOLS
We have only just met.
Your gaze penetrates me.
It feels personal and
makes me uneasy.
I move away but glance back.
Nothing has changed.
Your eyes, unflinching
silent pools, still watching.
You are observing me.
This is very unsettling.
I break first and move on.
Sometimes I hate art galleries.
(c)John Holt Nov.12.1998
|.....all rhymes deserve |
| to take their chance |
| when thrown into |
| the poet`s `dance` |
| |
| but some are gross |
| without a `clout` |
| and those, I think, |
| should sit it out |
| |
| and wait their |
| turn for other hands |
| to write the `song` |
| in other `bands..... |
| |
|______John Holt :) 1998____|
WINTER
I try to ignore you
But you arrive, without my
Permission, bringing things I
Do not need and do not want.
Unlike your sister, Spring,
You frown most of the time or
Give me an icy look when I
Shiver in your dark presence.
Yes, I know comparisons are
Odious but I cannot tolerate
Your company whilst I am in
Love with Summer, your other
Sibling ~ tho` she is capricious
And will give comfort and
Warmth to those who seek her
Company. In consolation I
Turned to Autumn`s loveliness.
But it was not the same.
Perhaps in despondency
I did not see the
Gifts you offered me.
On reflection I perceive
Your role in drawing back
Nature`s harvest of energy.
As plants and leaves wither
Seemingly giving way to death
You store life during Earth`s
Long journey in Aphelion.
Now I understand why you
Are different from your peers
But since there is no warmth
Between us I wait, for Spring.
(c)John Holt. 06/12/96
Winter`s Song
Hast thou seen the child?
`Tis said he came this way.
Mine eyes are growing dim
But yet I hope and pray
That `ere my life is done
I see him on this day.
Hast thou seen the men?
Wizards or princes three
Each bears a special gift
And all on bended knee.
Perhaps I will not look
Upon this wondrous sight,
For God may take my soul
Before the end of night.
I have no fear of this
My life has lasted long
And in the heavens now
I hear the Winter`s Song
(C)12/08/96
Twelth Month
Days are shorter
Ice on water.
Low-lit sky
Grey to eye.
Life on hold
Winter cold
Salt and grit
On roads do sit.
Further north
A sorry tale
As blizzard
Leaves its
Savage trail
And villages
Are buried deep
In icy blast
Or frozen gasp
From Winter`s
Unrelenting grasp.
(c)12/08/96
Something`s Coming
Tapping, tapping, in the night
something awful - full of fright.
Something dark, something small,
something downstairs in the hall
Something lost, something found,
is it square or is it round?
Something shuffles, has it feet
or claws or hands to tear up meat?
Does it scream - or is it mute?
Whatever it is I fear the brute.
Now it`s breathing on the stair
and in my bed I say a prayer.
I never used to fear the gloom
but now I shiver in my room.......
(C) John Holt 1998
ALIEN VISITOR
She sits alone at her table in the cafe,
gesticulating, talking to the wall
in secret tongue with an invisible partner.
In her world a natural order exists.
Somehow she slipped into ours
and is imprisoned.
Two women on my right,
whispering behind their hands,
shoot nervous glances at the alien.
They and I are privileged.
The waitress does not see her.
Nor do others in this cafe.
The cook tosses flapjacks,
oblivious of her presence.
I watch closely.
Soon the electron beams
must appear.
Her transport home.
But not today.
Her minder has arrived.
Loving smile - caring eyes,
gentle hand, reaching
to hold the alien`s arm.
Voice murmers softly.
`Time to go home now dear`
(c)john holt 08-05-98
THEY MARCHED THEM OUT
They marched them out along the streets today,
Veterans of the wars that swept so much away.
November's drizzling rain lent pathos to the mood
As bugles blew refrain, lament for nations` blood.
Arras, Ypres, Flanders, Vimy Ridge, The Somme
Echo the voices of so many youngsters gone.
Two decades followed and a second generation came
To lay their lives down on another foreign plain.
Dunkirk, Tobruk, Saipan, Tinian and Guam
Witnessed the deaths of young men in their prime.
Wars followed on; Korea and then Vietnam.
Both took the share of killing in their plan.
As long as human nature stays the same
The `art` of making battle will remain.
They marched them out along the streets today,
Veterans of the wars that swept so much away.
(c)John Holt
Rememberance Day
Sunday,8 November,1998
ARMISTICE DAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1918
Two minutes silence for our dead as guns boom out.
No scripted orison gives justice to their sacrifice.
No loud hurrahs - no mood of victory prevails,
Only the thoughts of those in quiet reflection.
(c)John Holt
JOHN'S RESPONSE TO THE MINI-SKIRT JOKE
Let me tell, you dearest Ant.,
that when I heard the lady pant
and reach behind her for my zip
my stature grew (an ego flip).
She did it once, the naughty girl,
and made my straight hair take a curl.
She did it twice, the sassy lass,
(I almost hollered like an ass)
and when her fingers felt my bird
I made home base upon the third!
G-e-e-e M`a-a-m,
She _sure was gentle
with my lentil..... :)
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