Not Waving.

     Each post, every news broadcast, most communications, we can't escape from it, Covid19, important, of course, but we can suffer from information saturation, subject overload. So I stray now and again into the world of, music, poetry, chess, all passions of mine. I also enjoy Frank Skinner, so was delighted to find we shared a love, poetry, and he does a podcast. So to take your gaze away from Covid19 for a wee while, here is Franks podcast on works from two poets, Stevie Smith, a new poet to me, so thanks Frank, and William Carlos Williams, enjoy.

Not Waving but Drowning

By Stevie Smith

 

Nobody heard him, the dead man,   

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought   

And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he’s dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,   

They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always   

(Still the dead one lay moaning)   

I was much too far out all my life   

And not waving but drowning.

 Photo and poem courtesy of Poetry Foundation.

Visit ann arky's home at https://radicalglasgow.me.uk