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Best Poems From
C RICHARD MILES
(1961)
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125.
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Black Night Haiku
Night turns starless black
As lumpy stratus custard
Clogs sky's colander.
C Richard Miles
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126.
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Brief Encounter On The Bendybus
He thinks he looks real cool, up for the pull,
Tapping his fingers impatiently on a can of Red Bull,
Staring down at his feet, face in a steely scowl,
Beanie well pulled down, hoodie like a cowl
Like a monk, solitary, cut off from the world
Which he doesnt acknowledge, except for the girl
Opposite, who attracts his attention with a smile.
Suddenly he looks up, fascinated by her guile
But, in reply, disapprovingly, she purses her lips,
So he looks away, frowns, has a couple of sips
And, seeking obscurity after rejection, he tries,
Since shes just pulled the wool over his eyes,
To pull the wool of his hat further over his face,
And mopes moodily, staring blankly out into space,
Skin trying its utmost not to redden at his mistake,
Dragging his feet, trying to conceal his heartbreak
And this would-be Romeo turns ever more sullen,
Having lost his Juliet, who wasnt ready for pulling.
C Richard Miles
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127.
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Broody Garden Pheasant
I saw a silent statue shake and scratch;
A tawny shadow stirred its stock-still head,
All mottled fawn, behind the cabbage patch.
Deep in the middle of the flowerbed,
Half hidden in her hole, beneath a bush,
The pheasant scraped her nest next to the shed.
All pillow-plump, with feathers fine and plush,
She nestled down to match the bare, brown ground
In camouflage, flecked as a missel thrush.
The broody hen has hunted round and found
Her refuge where, cocooned, her brood will hatch
In this soft earthen covert, safe and sound.
C Richard Miles
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128.
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Call To Arms Against An Unseen Enemy
As bleak November breathes her icy blast
To turn our minds to pictures of the past
With blood-red poppies, which we proudly wear
Or fashion wreaths to lay with reverent care
On war memorials stark throughout our land
To hallow those who died by human hand,
We often half forget that other fight
That comes from enemies just out of sight.
For, worse than war, is threat of dire disease
Which, like the plague, whose deadly vector, fleas,
Seems much too minuscule for man to fear,
Can still surround and navigate too near
To claim, unseen, its victim in its grasp,
For viruses, bacteria plot their path
Under the radar, ruthlessly to bite
And sink sharp teeth as silent as dark night.
Let us remember more than those who fell
In squalid trench in Great Wars gory hell,
For after that long conflict sore was won
Came influenzas fire, not from gross gun,
That carried off more in its burning breath
Than ever could mere mortal render death,
That filled already bursting graveyards still
More full of souls slain silently with skill.
For pestilence bore off far more than arms
And, whilst we still wage war, warning alarms
Of natural assassins, fail to ring
Their wake-up call to rich to rise and bring
Attention to finance research to fight
Insidious destroyers of our might
Which, with persistent spores, can lay down low
The mightiest elm without a single blow.
Minute mosquitoes shrilling in the nights
Can decimate our ranks in pinprick bites
That, passing protozoa to their hosts
Where they can multiply, unseen as ghosts
Will slay their unprotected victims dead,
Who scan for human enemies instead
As warring nations bicker over scraps
To add a few more acres to their maps.
We call on those who have material wealth
To set aside some sums to invest in health,
For, in our world, the poor face frightful fates
As morbid malnutrition, empty plates,
Deprive them of the energy to strive
To win the war against the threat to life
That comes from typhoid, dysentery and flu
Allied with far more fearful foes anew.
For man now kills, with acts of love, not hate
That leaves the victim with more lingering fate
Than ever did bare bullet, blasting bomb
That sent so swiftly to an early tomb
And ribbons red supplant the poppys place
As we review new perils that we face
When, as November cedes her chilling sway
To dark December, we greet World Aids Day.
So take a moment, as you hurry past
The jingling collectors of your cash
And spurn them not, for we must wage the war
To solve the problems theyre collecting for,
Since, without us to help, mankind may lose
Battles extinguishing that smoking fuse
That leads to an unseen, unticking charge
Of dynamite disease which waxes large.
So let us arm physicians for the fight
Against cruel cancers cold, condemning fright
And give them hope, who languish long in wards
That they will benefit from rich rewards
From our investment, aiding scientists
To find new cures, establish lengthier lists
Of medicines which mend each human ill.
Well win this war, if we would work with will.
C Richard Miles
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