Category Archives: poetry

Cecil

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Zimbabwe Lion Killed

Cecil was a friendly lion,
Never harmed a living soul.
Didn’t stop a Dentist flyin’
In to seek his huntin’ goal.

He traveled up the Root Canal,
Noting his extraction point,
Cleaned and polished rifle pal,
Drilled with leaden needlepoint.

The tragic death of Cecil was
The catalyst for much debate.
Hunted down the Dentist ‘cause
His clients sought to litigate.

The death of thousands, strange to say,
Fails to register at all.
Unpeople, on our conscience, weigh
Hardly anything at all.

Stephen Tomkins
14 August 2015
Jakarta

Oh! The Glamour!

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Jet-lag-940x528

Awoke this morning with a mighty start,
Suspended in the inky void.
Tried to slow my racing heart,
My dreamless slumber now destroyed.

Reached for where I knew the lamp was,
Where I though it might have been,
Came up empty, hurt my hand ‘cause
There’s a wall where lamp had been.

Confusion, now, my brain has gripped,
I start to wonder where I am.
Veneer of smugness now has slipped,
Consult my mental diagram!

Roll across the bed and fall out,
Find myself upon the floor.
Why am I awake? A call-out?
Search around for bathroom door.

Find the bathroom. Find the light.
Of course! It’s slowly coming back!
Could it be time for my next flight?
‘Cause if it is, I’d better to pack!

Frantically, I quickly shower,
Dress and fill my useless bag;
Leave the room, descend the tower.
God! This life can be a drag!

Make my entrance to the lobby,
In uniform with cap in hand.
Hotel staff all look so snobby,
Crew has gone! Well, I’ll be damned!

‘Twas then I spied the lobby clock,
My heart then sank just like a stone.
It’s 2 am! Oh what a shock!
Of course, I really should have known!

Ten hours early, I am now –
A trial run, of course, I planned.
Vacate the lobby with a bow;
You frequent flyers understand!

Stephen Tomkins
13 July 2015
Shanghai.

time zone

Author’s note: I make no comment as to whether the above incident actually took place.

Ebb and Flow

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359286387-keleti-pu-concourse-hall-commuter-rush-hour-2

High above my boots and laces,
Bobs my own head up and down.
Swimming in a sea of faces,
One by one, they wear a frown.

To a soundtrack I’m conferring
Flows the tide of dark commuters;
Seething mass, their faces blurring,
Rush to serve voracious suitors.

On the train, the kelp is swaying,
Standing up or sitting down,
Random rhythm they’re obeying,
Heedless of the music’s sound.

Glowing screens lead all by ear,
Once more we travel to and fro;
Isolated yet so near,
Protected by my audio.

Stephen Tomkins
30 June 2015

I Don’t Understand

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angel-of-grief-fathers-day-can-be-tough-for-some

Ten years ago my Mum did pass –
Like days not years, they’ve flown so fast.
Begrudge her leaving I could not,
She’d suffered and been through a lot.
But when she died, I was cast adrift,
Awash with turmoil, a paradigm shift.

And though, for me, the world had changed,
I felt I was now quite deranged;
Yet, flooded with unmanly grief,
I quickly stowed my handkerchief
And, ploughing on in stoic style,
I kept in place my phoney smile

While all around me, unabated,
Life kept on, accelerated.
But outrage is just what I felt
As my resolve began to melt.
How could things ever be the same?
Life proved itself a cruel game.

Stephen Tomkins
23 June 2015

It’s All About You.

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Peoples-unity

Just what is a life from among so many?
A drop in the sea? Or a billionaire’s penny?
Would the sea really notice that one drop less?
Or the billionaire suddenly face distress?

Deluding ourselves is a popular sport;
‘Stead of facing the truth, it’s a pleasant resort.
Humanity’s edifice, complex and strong,
Is an image that couldn’t be any more wrong.

Though connected in ways unimagined before,
We live isolated, behind our locked door.
Fearful and lonely and longing for love,
Ignoring our neighbour, beseeching above.

Feigning indifference (perhaps it’s not fake?)
As some of us starve while the rest much on cake,
Demonstrates neatly my heart-breaking point:
Our fates are not separate, they’re clearly conjoint.

Stephen Tomkins
18 June 2015
Singapore

Quite A Ride!

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images

Living is a serious matter
Though sometimes it can be good fun.
Don’t listen to the media chatter:
Eighty years? A damn good run!

At first it’s clearly all uphill,
So much to learn, so much to do.
It doesn’t seem to change until
Responsibilities accrue.

Then down the other side you fly,
Slow at first, then ever faster.
Try and try you might deny –
The view behind gets ever vaster!

Stephen Tomkins
5 June 2015

Night Flight

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139-crescent-moon-background

A Cheshire Cat moon beams down from on high
And slowly sinks lower and lower in the sky;
His comforting smile rewarding my thoughts
While beset by machines with their ones and their noughts.

The blackest of seas swallows Cat and his smile
Like a red crescent whale diving deep for a while.
Pinpricks of light in an ebony veil
Disinterestedly shimmer, unchanging and pale.

Air hisses past like a rain-swollen stream,
While I seem suspended in a motionless dream.
Time passes by at a glacial pace.
The miles that we fly disappear without trace.

Bodiless voices speak on in my ears,
Silence again as the frequency clears.
A voice now beside me, my reverie breaks,
Suggesting a coffee to keep us awake.

The view from his window, no different to mine,
But does he perceive what I think is so fine?
The weather tonight is so clear and benign;
It’s not always like this when flying the Line!

Stephen Tomkins
11 July 2014

Heartless

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shattered-heart

There’s a road somewhere that’s paved with hearts.
It won’t be found on any charts.
The hearts are all smashed into parts:
That’s why the ride’s so rough.

Some like to drive on very fast,
Not even caring what they’ve passed,
Plagued by what lies in their past,
And that, for them, is tough.

Some like to revel in the pain,
Reversing back and forth again.
They treat the world with pure disdain
And fail to see their need.

Then there are those that drive in tanks,
Detached from all the other cranks.
They neither want nor offer thanks
And focus on their greed.

From time to time, though, someone stops,
While rushing homeward from the shops.
From their faces streaming drops:
Another paver laid!

And very rarely someone cares
Enough to pause and make repairs.
Somehow they carry bags of spares,
Not wanting to be paid.

But most of us just rush on through,
We’ve all so very much to do.
Our shattered hearts just can’t be tracked,
So better fix them while they’re cracked.

Stephen Tomkins
13 June 2014

Tell Me Why? – A Tribute to the Fallen

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Molten face and vacant heart,
Slowly, I’ve been ripped apart.
On misty window, torrents stream.
In vain, I pray it’s just a dream.
A crumpled letter, trembling hand,
At last, I think I understand:
The thing I dreaded has come to pass.
The whole damn war’s a bloody farce!
My son, my boy, my little mate
Stepped upon a pressure plate.
A bang, a flash, there was no pain –
Another death, so little gain.
He’s coming home on Wednesday night
Aboard a scheduled Air Force flight.
I’ll miss his hug, his cheeky grin –
Forever changed, the world has been.

Stephen Tomkins
2 May 2015

Fully Sick, Bro!

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12sick

“Cure your ills with these here pills,
As easy as can be.
With my prescription in your hand,
You’ll soon be fit as me!”
The Doctor, smiling, showed me out
And took me by the hand.
His Secretary, smiling too,
Then charged me seven grand!

I hastened to the Pharmacy,
They welcomed me right in.
And when they saw my list of pills,
They wore a hearty grin!
“These pills aren’t on the PBS,
So sad, you’ll have to pay!”
I grabbed my pills and paid the bill,
Still shaking with dismay.

I found my way to Medicare
And settled in a chair.
The crowd of people waiting there
Near drove me to despair.
When my turn came, they shook their heads
And said it’s just the rule:
The scheduled fee is very small,
The refund’s minuscule!

Thankfully, the pills did help,
I’m working overtime.
When I was sick, the bills I paid
Were really quite a crime!
So when someone you know’s taken ill
And turns a little green,
And says, “I can’t afford to be sick!”
You’ll know just what they mean!

Stephen Tomkins
15 November 2014