"The Poetry of John Henrik Clarke, Pt. III."

Then and Now

When I was  a little boy,
About half past three,
All the world was a garden to me.
Rain and other things from the sky
Was the grace of God passing by...
But now, I bow my head and sigh,
As bombs fall and babies cry.
In a world wreathed in wild confusion,
I have lost every trace of my beautiful illusion.

(J.H.Clark „Rebellion in rhyme“, p. 26)


Caution

America is a young
And restless nation,
Young like a school girl,
Restless like a year old colt.
Those who guide her
Must guide her cautiously,
As if guiding a child.

(J.H.Clark „Rebellion in rhyme“, p. 28)


No Age for Roses

This no age for roses,
The air is filled
With rank fallacies –
And reason is dead
As last season´s leaves.
With men struggling desperately
To keep alive,
How can roses thrive?

(J.H.Clark „Rebellion in rhyme“, p. 37)


Spring Morning

I saw a bird flutter from its nest
Singing with sweet delight,
There was a newborn freshness,
On everything in sight.
My soul was raptured over and over...
And all the world was right.
Most beautiful of all I saw...
The morning steal out of the night.

(J.H.Clark „Rebellion in rhyme“, p. 49)


*All of these poems were taken from the J.H.Clark’s book „Rebellion in rhyme“


Frank Oscar Larson @drips.cz