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Date Posted: 23:35:04 08/15/04 Sun
Author: jim clark london england
Subject: A MIME by Keith Douglas (listen online mp3)

British second world war soldier poet Keith Douglas (1920 - 1944) seems to have almost forseen his own tragic untimely death which was to come in 1944 when he was killed instantly by an almost invisible piece of shrapnel in the battlefield of Normandy in June 1944.

Here he is contemplating an uncertainty that we all must endure. That uncertainty surely being that time will one day kill us if accident of fate doesnt first. Which one gets us first none of us will know until for us the victim it will be too late to consider the matter further. In douglas's case the horrs of world war two that he found himself part of would surely have brought an urgency to such considerations for before he even knew it "Time and Death villians in the wings" as he puts it were to kill him in a trice.

Heres a link to the page where you can listen to this and many other classic poems set to music....

http://tinyurl.com/4vcvq



Regards.

Jim Clark
PS..Dont forget you can if you prefer listen to many of my my sound poems at my Yahoo "sound poetry" web group (look in "files") heres that link.. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bloozman_uk/



All rights are reserved on this sound recording/copyright/patent Jim Clark 2004


A MIME

Time and Death villians in the wings
stretch out their fingers parallel
at me. Death says "If I dont get you,
the time aha will presently upset you---
you'll find how soon his famous spell
will coil you in succesive strings.'

"But Sir,' says he, old melodramatic death,
'May I be the first one after all,
and Time young man will spare you, for
the young fill my fastidious maw
so tastily. Revel and grow tall,
rest you merry near your last breath'

In defence to his advice
I look in maidens faces after
what men cannot but need the most
but time as limber as a ghost
dispelling kisses and sweet laughter
looks to catch me in a trice.

Only between these dangerous two
I will be nimble, jump and dodge
the unnatural uncles on my track;
if I dont croak and falter back
despairing in the end to cadge
careless hearts from you and you.

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