Fifteen thousand coconuts
Fell on a dead man's head
And why he lay there no one know
Till suddenly he said,
“Why pound me so with coconuts?
Just what do you expect?”
He then got up, wiped off his dirty
Arms and legs and left.
It is a curious poem, and not one that I readily own as representative of my work, but there it is. I have sometimes written impromptu pieces, but those spontaneous poems were generally driven but a sudden deep insight or an unavoidable reaction to some external stimuli. Such was the case with the following poem:
When None Command
By surging sea and force of wind
A tattered vessel floundered in
Where coral reef performed the rest
In ripping wide her wooden breast.
From timber scream to cracking mast
Her form dismembered to the last
And on the waves her pieces reached
An aftermath of slumber, beached.
She is a silent reprimand
To those who sail
When none command.