(A Quarterly International Peer-reviewed Refereed e-Journal
Devoted to English Language and Literature)
Terry Cooper (1943), after retirement in 2004, started taking interest in poetry along with artistry and oil painting. Poetry always comes easily to him and smoothly turns his hand to most subjects at will to convey social matters of modern age. He can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.
1. Across the Great Divide
The caress of the west wind wafted,
Rippled cobwebs on the eyes of corpses
As they lay in the soft sandy desert
Dried out like wood that warps.
Scarab beetles scuttle a sand dune
Destiny to me quite unknown
Except to the wide eyed beetle,
Called John, it’s imagination full blown.
Desert songs moaned a hollow hello
To travellers on the lonely silk road
Bending heads into the wind from the west
Backs doubled under a heavy load.
2. Ages of Rock 2
For many years I bubbled beneath the deep Earth’s crust
Hot and molten ever moving, upward in my thrust
Suddenly, a crack appeared, above my very space
I burst out with my cohorts, sunshine hit my face.
We cascaded down a hillside, solidifying as we could
Came to a halt and looked about, the cooling winds felt good
Rain lashed down and crystallized, the surface of our skin
Holes appeared as if by magic, our innards shrunk within.
Dwellers began to assemble, in our caves for blessed shelter
Humans, some animals, with snakes so smooth and slender
All life sought our protection, from the threat there was without
Each life garnered comfort with our guardianship about.
Now they come to mine us, for the minerals we secrete.
The sound of pick and hammer, resound with monotonous beat.
Will our families ever return; to the security we provide?
Those caverns now more cavernous, fill us with enormous pride.
There may come a time we’re needed, to again support God's life
New eruptions being born, on the winds of Earth's good wife.
Evolving, our watchword, as we record natures remedies throughout.
Do not dare to upset us, lest Earths innards all spill out!
3. Lessons Unlearned
War after war, death upon death.
Atrocities added to, injustice unleashed.
All experienced by mankind, time after time
The victors leave the fields in triumph,
Vowing never to let this happen again anywhere.
Following a short period, some jumped-up little tyrant
Pops his head above the parapet.
Viewing the horizon occupied by another,
He decides he wants that patch of earth himself,
Raising a flag, he calls for comrades.
They gather like blowflies to a putrefied corps,
Aching to kill or be killed.
Taste the test of battle.
Will I? Can I? Pull that trigger.
In the face of the enemy, courage or cowardice?
The weasel looking over the parapet smiles
Sends his army to their fate and his fortune.
Another jumped-up little twit, has just been born.
He or we do not know him yet, but he is here
His generals all lie beside him crying.
Their Mothers bare a tit to feed them,
Not knowing what they are nurturing.
The sweetest little babies one could imagine,
Not giving a tinker’s cuss for lessons of history,
Only that patch of earth just over the horizon.
He must win it or die in the attempt,
Words will not do it, only conflict will triumph.
The warm sweet smell of success,
Over-rides the stench of death, so much death.
But then his world would not survive without it, would it?
Natural selection, survival of the fittest?
Otherwise the world would be over-populated
Bringing a different kind of war
A war of necessity,in ernest, survival of the fittest!
Never take your eye off of the prize eh!
4. No Meeting Ground
This is me, you are you
I look and see a person who
May tweak a kindling of intrigue,
Encouraging me to further read.
Do I, don’t I, wish to pursue
Further conversation with you?
Man or woman, it is all the same
Gender complication, is not the aim.
Just the same, we are all human,
Minds will meet, reach conclusion.
Do I, don’t I, wish to pursue
Exploration of a mind into.
What of them? It must be mutual,
For a relationship to be fruitful.
Unless it occurs in the course of social
A defining decision must be crucial.
The judgement is yours, I am quite content
Anyone who listens, is heaven sent.
I am still here, my cup may be low,
Anticipation high, where did she go?
I smile that smile of understanding
We weren’t compatible on any landing
I pay the bill, and rise to go
Spirits lifted, a smile on show.
5. To combat writers block
What wonders pass before my eyes,
as I sit in abject fear.
A herd of the finest wildebeest,
Beside a polar bear.
Thunder echoes across the scene,
As electrodes weigh a cloud.
a ghostly figure floats around
In a tattered, bloodstained shroud.
A Butterfly alights on the nose of an elf,
Opens her wings to sunshine beams.
The cross-eyed elf, tongue on show,
Resplendent, in elf’s reds and greens.
Snow White beckons us to follow,
Captain Ahab and the lonely white whale,
To join the flight of a beautiful swallow,
Who speaks with flitting, forked tail.
A party of barnacles breaks out,
On the outer hull of “Cutty Sark”,
A rip-roaring chorus of sea shanties,
Drowns the surly sea dog's bark.