Free Collected Poems by Alan; Sillitoe Page A

rage at friends and parents
    Strangers stunned in the lime-pits of oblivion.
    Who blame for this sublime attack?
    Did Brigadier-General God in his safe bunker plan?
    He horsebacks by, devoted cheers.
    Choleric face knows too much to tell –
    It’s dangerous for any smile to show.
    Whoever is cursed must be believed in
    For Baal is dead. Get up. Push on.
    Want to live forever?
    Go through. No psychic wound can split
    Or leg be lost at that onrushing slope.
    Halfway, more craven, sometimes too clever,
    Old campaigners want a hole to flatten in
    Before rot of the brain encircles
    Or Death’s concealed artillery
    Plucks fingers from the final parapet.
    Silence kills as quickly, you can bet.
    Live on. Death pulls others in
    Not you, or me, or us (not yet).
    Earth underfoot is kind but waiting,
    Green sea flows on the right flank,
    Black rain foils the leftward sun,
    Poppy clouds and mustard fields
    Tricked out with dead ground, full woods,
    Lateral valleys flecked with cornflowers.
    Roses flake their fleshy petals down.
    Time falls away. Battle deceptively recedes,
    Peace lulls to the final killing ground,
    Familiar voices coming up behind.

TERRORIST
    The protest against Death
    Is a raised fist, the face
    Of corruption bewails its declining
    Gift of life. I go when chosen for taking.
    The sky bruises the aching fist. Air mellows
    The corroded face. You did not choose me.
    I parted myself long ago when I sat
    On a branch overlooking boathouse
    And bulrushes, and the lake water
    On which nothing moved
    Except the breath of words
    Saying no seven times all told.
    I didn’t stay to hear the answer
    Turned blind in Death’s donkey-circle
    Till the rag around my fist
    Was bloodsoaked from hitting the trees.

RABBIT
    A busy rabbit young and small
    Cornered our vegetable plot,
    Chewing green treasure,
    Tail upright from line to line
    In rabbit-fashion,
    An all-providing God set out
    Row on row of grub,
    Scarpered back to thistles
    Till heavy-treading vengeance went away.
    The fur-lined malefactor fed a fortnight
    On lettuce carrots peas,
    Slyly keeping news from friends below.
    Laden gun half-aimed, I stalked:
    That gorging salad-engine’s tender paws
    Which sensed the weight of lead shot in my pocket,
    And soft-footed off before I reached the hedge.
    My shadow half-close,
    Approaching blackout had low odds
    On lead-slug hitting his well-padded neck.
    It never did
    Though if that produce had been all
    Between us and hunger
    The senses would have sharpened
    And my gun been God Almighty.

MOTH
    Drawn by the white glitter of a lamp
    A slick-winged moth got in
    My midnight room and ran quick
    Around the switches of a radio.
    Antennae searched the compact powerpacks
    And built-in aerials, feet on metal paused
    At METER-SELECT , MINIMUM-MAX
    TUNER, VOLUME, TONE
    Licked up shortwave stations onto neat
    Click-buttons with precision feet.
    Unable to forego the next examination
    My own small private moth seemed all
    Transistor-drunk on fellow-feeling,
    A voluptuous discovery pulled
    From some far bigger life.
    A thin and minuscule antenna
    Felt memory backtuning as it crawled
    Familiar mechanism, remembering an instrument
    Once cherished,
    Forgotten but loved for old times’ sake.
    I switched the wireless on, and the moth
    To prove its better senses
    Mocked me with open wings and circled the light,
    Making its own theatre, which outran all music.

FISHES
    Fishes never change their habits:
    A million years seem like a day
    As far as fishes’ habits go.
    Beware of those who change them half as fast
    Like people every year or so
    So fast you cannot find
    A firm limb or settled eye.
    The constancy of fishes is unique.
    They multiply but keep their habits
    In deep and solitary state;
    Feel unique and all alone
    Not being touched and hardly touching
    Even to keep the species spreading –
    Unique is never-changing habits.
    Fishes are flexible and fit the water,
    And though continually moving
    Never change their