More poems!
More poems
   
 Lynette Shaw McKone
 Index of poetry on this site
 Links to some of my other stuff
 Here be Poetry!
 More poems!
 And more poems
 Even more poems
 Yet more poems
 Poetry, again!
 Not more poetry?
 Oh,no!
 Last page!

The Butterfly Effect
(Lorenz’ theory of predictability, commonly called Chaos Theory, 1979)

If a Brazilian butterfly can flap its wing and cause a Texas storm
Think of the effect we poets could have with all the verse we form
We could cause so much commotion, we’d make such a violent noise
World leaders would have to think again and reiterate their ploys
We don’t have to sit back and meekly accept what they dole out
We could open the minds of others and perhaps bring in some doubt
If we shouted hard and long enough they’d have to listen then
Perhaps we’d find a way to prove a sword can’t beat a pen
Perhaps we’d find a way to make the world a better place
‘cause the way our leaders run it now it’s a bloody damn disgrace
a child could do a better job than these, so called, great minds
I’m sure that there’s a better way to benefit humankind
If they spent less of our money on ambition, lust and war
We could try to redress the balance and show the world we care
If we can shout with one great voice and make our feelings heard
If we can make a song and dance about the way they treat our world
If we all just stop complaining and get our act together
Whatever crap they throw at us, we’ll have a counter-measure
Why do we just put up with what they tell us is right
We know that they’re bullshitting us, let’s get up and fight
Don’t let them have a chance to divide us up and rule
Don’t give them any reason to think they’re dealing with a fool
Let’s show them that we have some sensible things to say
Not tomorrow, or next week, but right here, right now, today
It’s our world that they’re spoiling with their lust for power and greed
Remember that the strongest plant will grow from just a seed
And let our seeds be all the words that live within our mind
Speak your thoughts, say your words and perhaps one day we’ll find
The courage to say they’ve got it wrong, shout and make some noise
Let’s get across our message with one united voice
A message that we all can say, and say it all as one
Look up to the sky and try to count the sun
A billion, billion atoms make up that fiery ball
But on their own the atoms have hardly any heat at all
And we are just the same, together we can make a stand
So let’s all get together and hold each others hand
We can make a circle wide enough to circumnavigate the earth
We can have a celebration to celebrate its new age birth
We can nurture and protect it, and shower it with care
We can stop the way the capitalists are stripping our world bare
There’s more than enough for everyone, wherever they may live
Remind people everywhere that it’s far more blessed to give
Let’s take all that nature gave to us and give everyone a share
Do it now and do it always, let’s prove that we all care


Trees

There’s a screaming tree in the garden
It makes no sound save for the soft rustle of its ivy shroud
But it is screaming nonetheless
For its dismembered limbs
Gone to make a chair
Or to be carved in to an object of beauty
But the screaming tree thought its branches beautiful where they were
The screaming tree screams for its siblings
Its parent, its cousins
Gone to be of service to people
Gone to build a dwelling
Or provide a bed for a railway track
Gone to divide up the land into manageable chunks
To build fences to keep people in, or out
Sometimes, the amputation of limbs
Is a necessary device
To protect from disease or decay
But the screaming tree may not see it that way
All it perceives is that it is no longer a whole tree
So it screams
If you listen carefully
You will hear it echoing
Across the world


Housework

Let us build a house of peace with windows of enlightenment
Let words be the bricks with which we build walls against war.
Let poetry be the cornerstones
and let song be the roof
Let only people who do not carry weapons
live in this house
And banish to the dark place all those who advocate war
Let us plant a garden of peace and grow love in the flower beds
Let the trees be covered with the blossom of happiness
Let the lawns be laid with contentment
Let the children be fed on laughter
And banish to the dark place all those who would say otherwise
Let only those with peace in their heart live in this place
And let this place be everywhere
here and here
and there


Girls night

Dressed up
made up
pissed up
Saturday night on the town
trawling the asphalt streams
struggling not to drown
Looking for a potential mate
or a quickie on the night
Running on trembling stilettos
from alcohol-fuelled fights
Queuing for the ladies
lippy and mascara all askew
Wondering if it’s worth the effort
for one quick screw
Waking Sunday morning
tripping on the guilt
burying last nights memories
underneath the quilt
Hung-over and hug up
Saturday night on the town
dressed up
made up
pissed up
struggling not to drown


MISSED CHANCES

I could have gone to India, but I didn't have the money,
I thought about bee'ing an Apiarist, but I don't care much for honey.
I aspired to be an Astronaut, but there's no men on the moon,
I auditioned to be a Singer, but I couldn't hold a tune.
I dug becoming a Farmer, but it's cold out on the land,
I could pit my wits as a Miner, but I don't want dirty hands.
I'd love to be a Hippie, but my flower was all wilted,
I was groom'ed to be a Bride, but with my luck, I was jilted.
I took steps to be a Dancer, but I'm not light on my feet,
I took a stab at Butchery, but I can't stand to handle meat.
I wood have been a Carpenter, but then I lost the nails,
I could sea myself as a Sailor, but there's no wind in my sails.
I geared up to be a driver, but I couldn't pass my test,
I could have been an Insomniac, but I really need my rest.
I could maybe be a Diver, but I don't know how to swim,
I jumped at being an Acrobat, but I'm not good at Gym.
I gambled on being a Croupier, but it wasn't on the cards,
I express'ed a wish to be a Train Driver, but they only wanted guards.
I was drilled to become a Dentist, but I was down in the mouth,
I explored being an Explorer, but I don't know North from South.
I was bread to be a Baker, but my cakes always burn,
I had lessons on being a Teacher, but I'm far too old to learn.
I fancied being a Record Producer, but I haven't got the hype,
I tried my hand as a Secretary, but I don't know how to type.
I could have been an Electrician, but I didn't have the power,
I hoe'ped to become a Gardener, but my seeds just wouldn't flower.
I was wound up to be a Watchmaker, but I never had the time,
So I'll stick to being a Poet, Because I'm not Too bad at rhyme!
(althow my speling cud do with sum work!)