Nimble Poems

Charta Non Cacata

by JF Childs
Good Morrow, Iris

To the market of man went I today
But long there did not tarry;
All long-standing hatreds had spoilt on the shelves
Harsh words didn't look very fresh
And rude gestures they simply no longer carry;
Nor any matter prejudicial to religion, creed, color, gender, caste or race 
Whatever; nor jealousy, rage or any other deadly sin was left;
And although as yet nothing had taken its place
The stall of the Liar looked decrepit and daft;
Then, rather than starve,
Someone irrepressibly laughed....

 The Feyness of Old Men


   or The Fractious Farceur’s Anxious Tale

Old men without means do of a morning

The product of their own entrails read for sign

Of how the day may go: if it snakes

Or spatters are details he notes long pouring

Over; morphology, odor, color, temperature

All matter, as well as overall design

Through which his impatience rakes

To understand the weather of his time 

Written in the bean of his own aperture:

Japing coils may strike a fatal blow

Odor distasteful demean his ego

Occult, dark color with his pure humor trifle,

But of all things most must be discoveredIf tomorrow’s pythic constitutional be baffled!


2 thoughts on “Home

  1. Love this poem! Your timing is impeccable. So glad you have begun this blog because I know the wonderful poems you have written over decades.


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