English Poems From Scarecrow Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Fabulous Fungii
Pavement mushroom, bearded fieldcap, fabulous fungi names
Snakeskin grisette, bug sputnik, drab tooth, the pretender
Dark crazed cap, weeping toothcrust, drumstick truffle club
Chicken of the woods, bald knight, the flirt, twisted deceiver

Gassy webcap, lentil shanklet, dewdrop dapperling
Common birds nest, bedstraw smut, hot lips, golden navel
Devils fingers, goblet parachute, snake tongue truffle club
Scurvy twiglet, plums and custard, mealy frosted funnel

Whiskery milkcap, club foot, cinnamon jelly baby
King Alfred's cakes, pink disco, and the contorted strangler
Mint mildew, vampire's bane, seek out jack o lantern
Shameless stinkhorn, hairy stereum, deathcap, mealy oyster

Lion shield, hair sedge smut, look, there's destroying angel
Wet rot, turquoise elfcup, and then, moon carrot rust
Midnight disco, witch's butter, bulbous honey fungus
Funeral bell, tiger's eye, and crust

We are the fabulous fungi, that grow in Britain's woods
Shaped like umbrellas, trumpets, plates and some like burglars' hoods


Annus Horribilis
"For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we carry nothing out." King James Version 1 Timothy 6: 7

All of us have had an annus horribilis,
But being commoners, our griefs are private

Some envy the late queen's titles and estates
We don't require security to live
We do not live in fear of assassination
Tabloid exposure, death in underground tunnels

None of us have been gifted marvellous things,
Not including the priceless jewellery

From Australia: 500 tins of pineapple.
Tilley's ‘Timid Joe' Dog soap
From Fiji: sperm whale teeth.
From Canada: 100 foot Totem pole.
A troop of Burmese horses, two beavers
From France: Grasshopper shaped wine cooler.
From Cameroon: African forest elephant, Jumbo III
From USA: Cowboy boots.
From British Virgin Islands: a pound of salt
From the Seychelles: two giant turtles
From Brazil: two sloths
From Germany: a canary
From New Zealand: a Maori canoe
From Tonga: two floormats
From Nigeria: the Yoruba throne
From London: a digging machine from Crossrail

For us, it's socks or stockings, perfume, teddies
Or items from a shop that gives exchanges

The monarch has gone beyond the need for gifts
In London, the great and the good
Make speeches to commemorate the moment
Near Balmoral, in the villages around
Folk mourn the passing of a long-term neighbour
Un-ostentatiously, with quiet resignation
Respectfully, they lay their flowers down


Gout: for ma faither
His dietary needs were mild and few
He didn't drink and gorge like some old trout
And yet for days such agony he knew

He kept good company: such famous sufferers!
Ludwig Van Beethoven, Christopher Columbus
Sir Isaac Newton, Queen Victoria
Henry VIII, Sam Johnson, Nostradamus

John Calvin, Da Vinci, USA's Ben Franklin
Charles Dickens, Michaelangelo, Karl Marx
All were struck down by this infernal curse
The toe joint feeling as if chewed by sharks

Henry VIII was treated by these means
Chopped worms, pig's marrow, spicy herbs mixed well
Boiled with the carcass of a red haired dog
And did it help? He's not alive to tell!


The Tarland Nuclear Bunker
Facts from Subterranea Britannica., and the website of CND

In a square compound, an eerie place to hunker
50 yards west of Tomnaverie
Stands the Tarland Nuclear Bunker

Inside is a folding table, built for a long stint
A shelf, a cupboard,
Two original folding wood/canvas chairs,
A long bench seat, uncushioned, hard as flint
A BPI mount, a BT junction box
Various papers, an ROC magazine,
A low table, a fire blanket, a mirror with a glint
A candle holder, two dome keys, a splint,
A net, a crowbar, saucepan and a kettle.
To be furnished with food and a toilet
Spartan enough to test the strongest mettle

Opened in 1960, closed in 199I
Staffed by local volunteers of the ROC
Would you like to fill their shoes?
Would you choose to be one the few survivors?
With all your kindred blown to infinity?

If an atom bomb fell on Cromar
This small group might survive, to
Monitor radiation levels. Report back to central command.
Though no farm would be left on the land

One, would have to emerge to scan the damage
Though nothing would remain, not even wreckage
If a nuclear bomb was dropped
The heat would reach a temperature
Of several million degrees.
The heat flash would vaporise
All human tissue. Animals, homes and trees
People would become shadows burnt on stone
All oxygen would be sucked out of the atmosphere.
Nothing. Not even bone.
There would be radioactive rain,
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Would thunder across the sky
And all life as we know would surely die

Scarecrow
I'm landlocked
I'm one of a kind
Pariah of the fields
Wedded to soil
Beaten by air
My only encounter is with crows

Every dawn's
A green light
For them to attack
To mock,
To intimidate
As I stand
Nailed to my cross

Then, I yearn for night
The scent of the fields
The balm of moonlit dew

In the dark
Being land-locked's irrelevant
I dream I'm running
Through a field of wheat
Like the hare I spotted once
In Clover Meadow


Toots
On a boogy woogy piano
That's a-jammin and a-noodlin
Makin all the audience
Stop their goofin

Focus on the music folks
My trumpet's smokin
Misty gets me sad
Till I'm near to chokin

Hear Sweet Georgie Brown
And The Look of Love
Till each doll is smoochin
With her turtledove

This red hot session
Has me root-toot-tootin

Till my trumpet-muffler
Has the music mutin