Hardcore Poem by Sailing to windward

Hardcore



Here lie Rob’s bits and pieces
Don’t dig him up, - beware diseases!
Buried at last, out of the way
Quiet for once – nothing to say

We chose this spot to lay him out.
Ten tons of hardcore, or there about
will hold in him down, that’s for sure,
in his steel lined box ‘neath the M4

Don’t disturb what’s left of him
(not much really, most's in the bin)
In case you invoke the poets curse
of verbal diarrhoea and an empty purse

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Marilyn Lott 07 November 2007

Yes, I agree, it's a very interesting title and poem. I assume it was something you 'had' to write but didn't want to share in any way so down in the ground it went. Oh yes, I've written pieces like that! I enjoyed your poem, Rob! Marilyn

0 0 Reply
Tom J. Mariani 24 October 2007

Brilliant image of the poet's curse - 'vebal diarrhoea and an empty purse.' Since you have chosen hardcore as your title, my job as reader is to figure out what you meant by it; or what you made it mean to me. The way you use it in your second stanza points me to one of my dictionary's choices: 'part of a group that is resistant to change.' This interpretation may be colored by my own experience reflected in a poem I wrote. 'No room for doubt/No room for me'

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Sailing to windward

Sailing to windward

52° 27' N / 9° 41' E
Close
Error Success