London Poems
The River's Tale
by Rudyard Kipling
Prehistoric
Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew--
(Twenty bridges or twenty-two)--
Wanted to know what the River knew,
For they were young, and the Thames was old
And this is the tale that River told:--
"I walk my beat before London Town,
Five hours up and seven down.
Up I go till I end my run
......
The Sun Has Long Been Set
by William Wordsworth
The sun has long been set,
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and the trees;
There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.
Who would go 'parading'
......
Mandalay
by Rudyard Kipling
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
......
London After The Great Fire, 1666
by John Dryden
Methinks already from this chymic flame
I see a city of more precious mould,
Rich as the town which gives the Indies name,
With silver paved and all divine with gold.
Already, labouring with a mighty fate,
She shakes the rubbish from her mounting brow,
And seems to have renewed her charter's date,
Which Heaven will to the death of time allow.
......
Contemplation
by Steven Andreev
This is a day of contemplation
When autumn finally falls down on the capital
After months of desert-style heat, that burnt us more inside than out.
In the dust of general stagnation
One counts all the capital, another the lack of it
While I sit in indignation, staring at the building blocking the view of the park.
And remember the days when a park was not a tiny square,
But was Richmond Park that opened up by her and me.
......
Space in Mayfair
by Steven Andreev
There is a space in Mayfair,
Not far from Hanover Square,
Where we walk when the sun darkens,
That’s called Mount Street Gardens,
Where paths lead us often
To find a new affair.
First time we cycled off Trafalgar Square,
Shooting past streets on a bike by funfair,
It was early spring and the leaves were green,
......
Spring Trip to London
by Steven Andreev
The weary winter passed to leave us with nothing but
Estrangement from each other. As I sat in my damp student dorm,
Writing essay on Alienation, alternating between shots of
Tea, vodka and gin, brooding about the last time I saw you alone.
Nothing interrupted my concentrated efforts, besides the sound of
Keyboard under my fingers, until a bird chirped by my window
And awoke me to notice the first carnations of season. I rushed
To my bedroom, grabbed a tweed jacket and ran to train station.
......
Contemplation
by Steven Andreev
This is a day of contemplation
When autumn finally falls down on the capital
After months of desert-style heat, that burnt us more inside than out.
In the dust of general stagnation
One counts all the capital, another the lack of it
While I sit in indignation, staring at the building blocking the view of the park.
And remember the days when a park was not a tiny square,
But was Richmond Park that opened up by her and me.
......
Time Travel (Got a Hook in Me)
by Carl Halling
Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,
Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,
In disguise as a young man in the city,
But the bright young life
No longer belongs to me,
......
The Wicked Cahoots of Bedford Park
by Carl Halling
When he made
his first personal appearance
in the dirty alley
on someone else’s rusty bike,
screaming along
in a cloud of dust,
it rendered us all
speechless and motionless.
But I was amazed
that despite his grey-faced surliness,
......
