Photo By Jools Thatcher

Photo By Jools Thatcher

The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Peace“. According to Jon, Tonchi was responsible for this weeks topic. I will have to have a chat with him I think.

Ed Bates has once again returned on guitar duties this week (thanks, as always)

Play this poem directly in your browser! Just click the “play” button below:
[audio:JVG_Poem20101114.mp3]

Also have a listen to my album “Drifter


Peace

Bent Street in the sixties, a community at ease
The drone of Victa Mowers like a swarm of worker bees

Mothers at the Hills Hoist hanging y fronts by the load
Kids playing hopscotch in the middle of the road

A street in perfect harmony, at peace, not strained or tense
That was until Reg Henshaw tried to build a new side fence

His neighbour Leonard Crock concurred the fence could stand replacing
But neither could agree which way the palings should be facing

“We’ve always had the rail our side” snarled Leonard holding firm
“Exactly” grumbled Reg, with grit “It’s time we had a turn”

Now neither gave a stuff which side the rail or palings went
It was all about “The principle” Who knows what that meant?

“Flip a coin” said Beryl Crock “It’s done, once and for all”
But they couldn’t agree who’d toss it and which of them would call

Things turned really nasty when the Henshaw’s mail was shredded
“Stumpy”, their much loved garden gnome was found next day – beheaded

Beryl Crock’s azaleas died – every single blossom
Reg just laughed when challenged, said “It must have been a possum”

The Henshaw’s dunny overflowed, with Reg still on the seat
Someone filled their sewer vent with rapid set concrete

The fence, by now in ruins, grew more shaky, week by week
No hope of resolution since both sides refused to speak

Neighbours tried to mediate but none could find the answer
Peace began to crumble as the feud spread like a cancer

The Luccis sued their neighbours Paul and Eva Sanchez
For damage to their guttering from overhanging branches

Complaints regarding parties, parking and the din
The drums at number thirty five, number two, the violin

After pressure re his trumpet forced Vin Smith to call it quits
He took up playing bagpipes to give everyone the shits

There were quarrels over unkempt lawns, smoke from barbeques
Obscenities shrieked at all who passed by Rex Pitt’s cockatoos

A stupid feud, one teeny crack, enough to sink the ship
And steer their slice of Eden closer to the Gaza Strip

Multiply their tiny street by a hundred million more
It’s not hard to see the reason why it’s not hard to find a war

In the end, the fence collapsed, killing Leonard, instantly
Reg died from a heart attack trying to pull Len free

A new fence was never built, therein lies the paradox
Cause twenty four apartments now straddle both the blocks

To keep the peace with neighbours if you aim to build a fence
Remember, wood and nails are crucial but less than common sense

© Copyright 2010 Ian Bland

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