POEMS

by Stephen Pain

FROM AN OAK STAIRCASE

Mary Gardner and I,
peered down upon a cordoned off sonnet,
We had held hands all the way from Weston-
Super-Mare to Stratford upon Avon,

Now we looked at  actors in an argument,
we could not understand, call it - innocence 
impeached by adulthood, we watched as the 
train pulled into the station, 
a gaggle of children walked  by, 
each stepping from out of the carriage,
transported in time into untimely marriage,

in 1964, Mary Gardner and me, crisp eating, 
squash drinking,nose picking, fibbing, purple 
knickered Mary, 
peered down as the faults concealed from us 
as children played hopscotch in Shakespeare's,
birthplace - we looked into each other's eyes 
and saw lovers with black hoods over,
their heads - we screamed and screamed - 
It can't be! Not in,a lovely sonnet  
the banisters swayed, the two of us gave,
way to adults kissing tenderly, as a lute 
played melodiously an air so seductive 
and sweet it would have lifted us,
entirely from our feet, if it wasn't for Mary 
holding with all her might the banister,

From an oak staircase, Mary Gardner and I,
peered down upon a cordoned off sonnet,
We had held hands all the way from,
Weston-Super-Mare to Stratford upon Avon 


THE FUNERAL OF A SPRUG (SPARROW)

I have a spruggy
he hops and shits
his shite a nacreous
green and white
his name on the tip
of my tongue
but I insist on calling
him Spruggy this pet
of poetry
Now and again he would drink
Newcastle brown from the tips
of my fingers
But alas poor Sprugs died--
his Birdseye pea heart stopped
all of a sudden
Death had stuck the bean
on my poor Sprug's head
and laid him out like
a boiled egg
Alas poor Sprugs
No State funeral 
No Catullus
No Lesbia weeping over him
Alas poor Sprugs was buried
in a sandwich box.


RESPONSE TO ITHACA

Shall I ever see this Greek island,
this footnote to a book of the Iliad?
How shall I go there? By aeroplane?
On a package tour; home and back again
in the blink of an eye, sit on the beach
and look at the Atlantes giving each
passing girl or boy the once over
hoping they might consent to be a lover
for an afternoon or two in their sunshine.

Shall I ever see this Greek island,
and if I do must I leave behind
all I love, all I care for, all my dreams,
and how shall I go? By steamship?
The services all listed in John Murray's
for nineteen eleven, taking days
to travel along the Aegean, by first
class, chatting on board with the Elroy
Fleckers, reciting Homer and the Iliad,
and discussing Egypt and a pyramid.

Shall I ever see this Greek island
before I am grey and out of my mind
and shall I like Angelo in Measure for Measure
anchor myself on an Isabella for pleasure,
while a Duke of Vienna cynically pulls my strings
and morality a cloistered whore dances rings
around my conscience, this being the sad sacrifice
the poet traveller makes on route to this exotic place.