..THE WORLD'S GOIN' TO END AT LOONCHTIME,

Poems of the Free School Community, volume 1

 

 

..

 

FOREWORD (slightly edited)

 

The whole thing started with our friend Roger Woolger, who lives down the river and comes up and gives us weekend workshops once in a while [on things like "the hero's journey" and "past lives therapy," and who is a Monty Python fan - being a Brit, a scholar and an Oxford man - and who does a splendid Liverpudlian accent, among other things] read us an inspired poem by a fellow Brit, Roger McGough - on one of our weekends.

Then, some time later, Charlene (some of whose poems are included here) made the remark that "being a member of the community is like having twenty lovers!" Mind you, she was not necessarily speaking about heaven on earth! I mean, imagine actually having twenty lovers! And yes, it is often like that!

So finally Chris started writing poems - or I guess the poems started writing him! However it happens. And we finally decided it was time we collected ourselves into one place. And I, being an editor/ publisher (of sorts), volunteered to put out a volume of what we've written, so far. And of course, thinking about what to call it, Roger McGough's poem came immediately to mind! My profound thanks to him for permission to use his poem. Lastly, Missy has done us a splendid cover picture (above), replete with a Loondon bus (pronounced booss) and lots of bodies of all colors and shades getting it on; a real Kama Sutra scene!

No, it's not a literal depiction of what we do here in this amazing community of ours, but it'll do fine for a metaphor!

Here is Roger McGough's poem in all its glory:

AT LUNCHTIME

by Roger McGough

 

 

When the bus stopped suddenly

to avoid damaging

a mother and child in the road,

the younglady in the green hat sitting opposite,

was thrown across me,

and not being one to miss an opportunity

i started to make love.

 

At first, she resisted,

saying that it was too early in the morning,

and too soon after breakfast,

and anyway, she found me repulsive.

But when i explained that this being a nuclearage

the world was going to end at lunchtime,

she took off her green hat,

put her busticket into her pocket

and joined in the exercise.

 

The buspeople,

and there were many of them,

were shockedandsurprised,

and amusedandannoyed.

But when word got around

that the world was going to

end at lunchtime,

they put their pride in their pockets

with their bustickets

and made love one with the other.

And even the busconductor,

feeling left out,

climbed into the cab,

and struck up some sort of relationship with the driver.

 

That night,

on the bus coming home,

we were all a little embarrassed.

Especially me and the younglady in the green hat.

And we all started to say in different ways

 

how hasty and foolish we had been.

But then, always having been a bitofalad,

i stood up and said it was a pity

that the world didn't nearly end every lunchtime,

and that we could always pretend.

And then it happened . . .

 

Quick asa crash

we all changed partners,

and soon the bus was aquiver

with white, mothball bodies doing naughty things.

 

And the next day

and everyday

In everybus

In everystreet

In everytown

In everycountry

 

People pretended

that the world was coming to an end at lunchtime.

It still hasn't.

Although in a way it has.

 

.....NANCY'S POEMS

...........Marriage

............Snow

....CHRIS' POEMS

My Body, My Temple

Nineteen Men

Coming Home

Born Again

The Day Lewis Died

Winter Death

New Poem

Florence and Charley

Cancer Ward

Hawk Haiku

Mumasatou

Shrine Circus

March/93

 

.....BETSY'S POEMS

 

Baby Patrick

Goddesses All

Her Last Blessing

Honeysuckle Dying

Lottie

As We Leave

 

....PAUL'S POEMS

 

Valentine

 

... CHARLENE'S POEMS

 

My Sister

There Must Be Another Place

I Stand on that Building

Michelle Came When I was Ten

I Feel You Here

When your Mother Comes

A Lot of Loose Ends

The Old Mysteries

My Magnificat

When I Sit in my Heart

Mary and the Gardener

If You Burn with Love

Bridges

The Suit of my Soul

Flowers Blooming

She Blurts her Truth

Suttee

Such a Gift

There is no Clean Slate

Cabinets

With the Apricot Evening Sky

The Fire in the Earth

The Goddess Sleeps

The Avatar

Push Into the Pain

Resentment

Redeemer

Raging River

 

.... LARRY'S POEMS

 

Snoring

The Snow Cave

 

.... ELLEN'S POEMS

 

For Larry

The Watchtower

 

.... RICHARD'S POEMS

 

Death of a Crow

Passage

A Sorrow Heaven Sent

Going Out

Two Poems on a Beech Tree

A Vigil

He Ran to the Tire

The Breeze that Visited my Evening Fire

 

.... MISSY'S POEMS

 

Terrence

Seeing

Peru

Holes

Love and Hate

Hot

Clouds

 

.... MARY'S POEMS

 

Narcissus

March

Child's Play

Quaker Funeral

April Arithmetic

Faun

Incarnation

Unicorn

The Heart Has its Reasons

Space Man

Ron

Love Song to the Irishwoman

Mountain Mother

Winter Solstice

John Holt is Dead

Garden Tomb

Mandi Bus Station

Alan-a-Dale

Blueberry Factor

Le Petit Mort

I Run

We

Were You to Leave Tomorrow

 

.... FRANK'S POEMS

 

Introspection

Valentine's Day 1993