Short Poems

Ride upon the Nightmare, bard
Do not let it ride on you.
You shall break the devil-guard
Ride upon the Nightmare, bard
Hunt the comets, riding hard
Break heaven of devils blue.
Ride upon the Nightmare, bard
Do not let it ride on you.

Jesus died upon the Cross
But He was not born on it.
Once he played at pitch and toss
(Jesus died upon the Cross)
When he lost he paid his loss
Priest are you a man of wit?
Jesus died upon the Cross
But he was not born on it.

" He's a Critic — damn his eyes! "
And his eyes were damned at once
Green he saw the summer skies
(He's a critic, damn his eyes!)
All the rest of him was wise
But his eyes saw seven suns
He's a Critic. Damn his eyes
And his eyes were damned at once.

If I were a fish I should
Miss occasional luxury
Such as climbing in the wood
(If I were a fish I should)
Church-going is also good
Mostly I should miss the sea
If I were a fish I should
Miss occasional luxury.

The Distributive State
You'd like if you'd met it
But you buy at hard rate
The Distributive State.
It means Early and Late
— And don't you forget it —
The Distributive State
You'd like if you'd met it.

The Servile (ow!) State
Is like this, only worse,
Degradation's its fate —
The Servile (oo!) State
It's debased, desecrate
— And it don't care a curse —
The Servile (ugh!) State
Is like this, only worse.

The Anarchist State
Is a flat contradiction.
So let Tolstoy narrate
The Anarchist State —
His powers, which were great,
Were more suited to fiction;
The Anarchist State
Is a flat contradiction.

The Syndical State
Raises awful emotion
In the Wise and the Great,
" The Syndical State " .
What the words indicate
They haven't a notion.
The Syndical State
Raises awful emotion.

The Communist State
Is all mixed up together.
Where we participate
— The Communist State —
There can be no hate —
(But we all hate the weather)
The Communist State
Is all mixed up together.

The Capitalist State
Is a garden of roses:
It's been proved in debate
— The Capitalist State —
But, strange to relate,
We are holding our noses,
The Capitalist State
Is a Garden of Roses.