Connie Tindale
Poem of the week - February 2016
I have always enjoyed writing poetry but seldom of the classical kind. I like emotional poetry as well as comical ditties. Please read and enjoy.

I wrote this poem to describe the process of gaining eternal life in ancient Egypt. I imagined a Yorkshire farmer telling his son how it was done and not to worry because although they pulled your body about, it was all worth it in the end.

Entering the Afterlife.

"Listen" said the old man
"Get this in your 'ead
Over yon big mountain
Lies cities of the dead

There's a big black dog awaiting
And a fella with a beak
They tear your heart right from you
Before you've time to speak

You'll be wrapped tight in linen
With your brain dumped in a jar
And that's just the beginning
If you ever get far

They'll question all your actions
And rubbish all your deeds
They'll count it up in fractions
And bring you to your knees

There's a big chief called Osiris
He's bandaged up all silly
But that's not to impress you
It's to hide his lack of willy.

He has a son called Horus
Another virgin birth
His brother Seth is giggling
And doubled up with mirth.

But do not laugh right at him
He'll whack you with his flail
His sister/wife is Isis
Cor! Incest. That's the tale

It's a lesson in good patience
And how to play the game
Bow and scrape and grovel
To gain eternal fame

But there's life in the hereafter
That's yours to simply take
But first they snatch your gizzards
And then your spirit break

But they leave your heart within you
And that is worth it all
Remember t'was me that told you
And when you're there give me a call".






I wrote this poem at a low spot in my life but it now fits well as a lament for my latest book. Luxor: Love and Lust, where dreams are shattered and hope has gone.

Fate - Sugar Mama's Lament

"It's too late, too late", she cried.
"It's never too late",
The chorus replied.

"I loved him, I loved him", she said.
"The future is empty,
I'm so full of dread".

"It's all over, all over", she sighed.
The chorus stayed silent,
With nothing denied.

"It's not as it seems", she stated,
"My hopes and my dreams
Were all cremated."

"Were am I to go?" she pleaded,
"Everything I loved
has been superseded".

"I so want your help", she yelled.
"Then you'll have to want",
The chorus rebelled.

"You've all let me down", she whined.
The chorus said nothing
Help simply declined.

"It's cold, I'm alone", she croaked.
"Tough luck, that's your fate"'
The chorus joked.

The chorus whispered "My friend,
Just stand by yourself.
We're all alone at the end".