YOUTH AND AGE
by Alan Kissock
Adults were old fashioned
Badly dressed and boring
But things are so much better now
The years have flown away
Adults are much more sensible
Well behaved in every way
Their manners are impeccable
Their intellects are soaring,
And now it is the teenagers
Who are badly dressed and boring!
by Jackie Evans
The congregation waited, in hushed expectation,
The old organ boomed in anticipation
Of Emily–shortly to be wed,
To her long-time sweetheart, that rascal Ted.
The couple stood nervously, facing the Vicar
Emily’s heart racing, quicker and quicker.
The Vicar addressed his congregation
All seated now in anticipation.
Now the time honored conversation:
“He who knows of any just impediment
To the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony
Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Then (wonders will never cease!)
There walked sedately down the nave,
A lovely young woman, nursing a babe.
Shock, horror! The bridegroom started to blush,
While o’er the bride’s face crept a rosy flush.
“Speak now!” quoth the dear old Vicar,
(who suffered from a dicky ticker).
The congregation craned their necks
(Sensing that this had to do with sex.)
But they were disappointed, alas, alack,
For her only words were:
“WE CAN’T HEAR YOU IN THE BACK.”
by Gwen White
My hobby is Mad Poets
I thrive on writing verse
I really do enjoy it
For better or for worse!
by Russell Tibby
Out beyond the city lights
out beyond corrupted air
out to where the barn owl swoops
extended talons, beaks that tear
stripping life from running rodents
leering from some lofty branch
out to where the night things dwell
living life by choice and chance.
Dear God, I love the stone walled fence lines
the paths where skulking foxes lurk
hunting moles and wary rabbits
frogs and mice and startled birds.
Are you out here bonded to me
by the need for wild peace?
Oh if you see me stay away
and leave me to sweet release.
Oh wild England cast your shadow
In broken moonlight through the woods;
spread your fogs like silver quilts
along the brooks – Oh if you could
envelope me, then we as one
forever more would always be
this brotherhood, this wild England
fought for, loved, forever free.
And though my bones would go to earth
my voice to be heard no more
my foggy breath would, still and blended,
show no footsteps at my door.
My spirit–it would rise and swirl
across the fields and through the trees
along the brooks and by the woods
of wild England – wild me.
The Rotorua Mad Poets Society in New Zealand
Founded in 1994 by Frank May. The Rotorua Mad Poets Society held it’s first meeting at Monkey Joe’s pub in Amohia Street.
It is one of the few poetry groups in New Zealand which meets on a weekly basis.
We read original and ‘found’ poetry, and write a weekly “theme”. We read on Good News Community Radio on the second Tuesday of the month, and have a number of open Poetry Readings at the which members of the community enjoy with an ‘Open Mike’.
We celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday every year at McLeod’s Booksellers, with readings from his works, and hold biennial poetry competitions for Intermediate School pupils. A selection of these poems have been published in a number of our publications.
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