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Collection of poems from

Ms. Wendy Winter Garcia  

of Pillagoda fame, 

now resident in Spain

Rude songs for rude people


A wandering minstrel I


A thing of rags and tatters

Like an Emperor with no clothes

Do you think it really matters?

Gaily the troubadour

Strummed his guitar

If he's an Indian

He'll strum his sitar.

The Lay of the Last Accountant


From Land's End to Landsker

John O'Groats and Finisterre

Texaco and Burmah

You can hear a cri de coeur

Why does our computer

Suffer from mal de mer

While still on terra firma?


Incest and incipient insanity


Great Potiphar

Egypt's pharoah

Was potty for

His father and mother

Were sister and brother.




Were I footloose and fancy free

A merry widow or a gay divorcée

Or if they legalize polyandry

I'd have you for breakfast and dinner and tea.


The pension fund


Had great grandma been tempted to sin

Whilst dancing a passionate samba

With a gaucho from Vilcabamba

Would heredity then result in

Such incredible longevity

That a moment's quick calculation

Would give us a rough estimation

Of what our new pension would then be?




No heart nor love have I to spare

And I'm quite certain you don't care

Instead of a Valentine I send a

Yellow inter-office memoranda.

No cooing dove

To tell my love

Or marguerite

You to entreat

No red rose

I enclose

Only this verse I've penned

To you I promptly send

On a pretty yellow

Inter-office memo.


Ballad of Davy Jones Locker-O!


(Or the doubtful fate suffered by a ex-naval computer expert in a cosmetic company)


Once sailor Davy roamed the sea

But now he buckles at the knee

No long can he heave-ho-O!

Did he with Raleigh westward go?

Like Henry Morgan sing yo-ho?

And a bottle of fine bay rum!

Now nevermore can Davy sleep

Rocked in the cradle of the deep

To dream of Robinson Crusoe.

But he must burn the midnight oil

And at his figures work and toil

Try hard to subtract or add'em.

Nocturnal vigil he must keep

While our computer's on the bleep

The day he came he rues so-O!

Now two by two when multiplied

Make four not five - can he divide

By three, six or eight, a fathom?

Like Ralph the Rover, he tears his hair

Our Davy's sunk in deep despair

Because he cannot do so-O!

Oh! For a life on the ocean wave

So far from pesky aftershave

Toilet water, eau de parfum!

Lipsitcks bright red and powder pink

Lower and lower did he sink

Together with his crew go down-O!

Did he long sail the seven seas

With electronic expertise

By astrolabe - or rule of thumb?

By Southern Cross and Polaris

He doesn't where Plymouth is

Or why the west wind blew so-O!

Neptune's Trident, St. Elmo's Fire

Not in South Hants but Devonshire

Sound loud the fife and beat Drake's Drum!

Coral is red and the Aegean blue

For Davy and his motley crew

Ah why? They never knew, no-O!

Please someone find the scurvy knave

A windy, wet and watery grave

Down in the deep ocean's bottom.

By Barbarossa, Davy Jones

Jolly Roger, skull and crossbones

Blackbeard, ne'er dare fly so-O!


Hymn for the Electronic Eighties


All thing bright and beautiful

All people great and small

On wealth, health and happiness

Pay taxes one and all.

The rich man in his castle

The poor man at his gate

We pay them, high or lowly

These servants of our state.

Tax each humble charity

The blind, the halt, the lame

Do not exclude from V.A:T.

Mite which from widow came.


The naked civil servant


Bare but inflation proof

Don't increase his pension

And he will raise the roof

Diplomat who fornicates

With buxom Russian maid

Wild passion on taxes and rates

The paedophile's well paid.

Professor emeritus

He, by appointment, queen

Exhibits such detritus

All honours traitors glean.


Surveillance electronic


On populace to spy

Methods telephonic

Great eyeball in the sky.

Each pansy soon shall open

Each little bird shall sing

Philby, Maclean and Burgess

Who will the future bring?

Yellow butter mountain

Wine river running by

Milk and honey fountain

Let's feed a Russian spy.

Feed not the starving millions

On Affrick's sunny shore

Just let then die by trillions

Save not, San Salvador!

If by hypothermia

The aged shall not die

Let's try euthanasia

Soon in the grave they'll lie.

The cold wind in the winter

Our pensioners will freeze

No coin to fill the meter

Pay all the strikers please.


Suffering little children


Come, come to Heaven's gate

Jolly will thee hasten

With his D.F. one one eight.

If in royal London's city

Shall virgin child conceive

No contraceptive scarcity

Abortion she'll receive.

Handicapped or sound of limb

All infants weak and small

Engles shall watch over thee

Trotsky, Marx et al.

Aborted babe, hush cry thee not

Great God did thee create

Thee, in furnace brightly hot

Man shall incinerate.

Those in peril in the sea

Eternal Father save

Whale and seal and manatee

From oil polluted wave.

Defoliate lush forests

Under the tropic sun

The tall trees in our greenwood

Just cut them, one by one.

The sunrise in the morning

Bright sunset or rainbow

Horizon far adorning

Or nuclear afterglow?

Aurora borealis

In a polluted sky

L.S.D. or cannabis

In summer's heat they dry.

Jail the jobless nigger

The Ripper may roam free

Asian we'll repatriate

Though he hardworking be.

God rest ye merry churchmen

Priests female thee dismay

But in the Church of England

The vicar may be gay.

Patriots with burning bow

Your hovel shall burn down

No defence Excalibur

Because your skin is brown.

Lament, O swan of Avon

Pendragon slumbers on

In Albion fair, no haven

For refugee forlorn.


The quango

(Facit indignatio versum).


Just what do you do all day?

Tell me quango, quango, quango

Sitting on your derriére

Torpid quango, quango, quango

Spewing paper in your tray

Superfluous, quango,quango

While the sun shines making hay

Fruitless quango, quango, quango

If you should go far away

With your quango, quango, gang-oh


Not a person you'd dismay

Would we care a hang-oh, quango?

Just what do you do all day?

I will tell you quango, quango


Just dulce far niente

Useless quango, quango, quango

Just disappear we pray

With a loud explosive bang-oh.


O Tempora! O Mores!


In golden tongue of wise Hellenes

Economy housekeeping means

Milton Friedman or Maynard Keynes

Raised they kids on cans of beans?


Chorus. Ho! Ho! Ho!, the jolly working man

With Foot he'll slog

With Benn he´ll ban

He'll close the country down

If he can!


On dreaming spires that soar or stand

In ivory towers this happy band

Elysium for us they planned

Valhalla midst cloud cuckoo land.


Crumbling tower blocks they built high

Towers of Babel to reach the sky

Whose Mums with prams and grannies try

Climbing Jacob's ladder - and sigh!


Great pyramid and Parthenon

By moonlight Taj Mahal lives on

Built by slaves, not Oxbridge don

They're still here - our tower block's gone.


Utopia they promised us

Not train on time nor autobus

In Brave New World - please do not fuss

To prison - if in streets you cuss.


Solomon in his wisdom knew

How he could find a mother true

She who would to another give

Her babe - so that it may live.


Aborted babes incinerate

Unwanted - in our Welfare State

By artifice inseminate

All those who cannot consummate.


By Merlin's ancient prophecy

Plagues shall suffer Albion - three

To fungus by some strange fairy

Shall all our metal turnéd be.


An armoured giant, he shall steal

All Britain's store of corn and meal

On Mayday shall great tumult peel

That makes our whole kingdom reel.


By inflation and EEC


By Foot and Benn and TUC

Those who plan our economy

Is fulfilled Merlin's augury.


Ye socialistic Oxbridge deans

O give us more than cans of beans

Milk and honey, not tower that leans

Nor concrete cows in Milton Keynes.


In Fleet Street once have fletchers strung

Bows of wych elm or yew that flung

Clothyard arrows that death have sung

At Agincourt, like bees have stung.


Nodens I pray my arrow fleet

Soft, silent, sure mine foe may meet

Make Victory mine - my foe to beat

May they never Death's clutches cheat.


Land's End


Lost Lyonesse beneath the sea

A tolling bell

Rings out its knell.

By Tamar's stream pale Guinevere

Laments Lancelot

In Camelot.

Cloud banners wave from highest tor

Dark sentinel

Of Tintagel.

Dozmary flaunts Excalibur

Which Arthur bore

To Bodmin Moor.

With windswept mane, on moonlit shore

White stallion

Of Avalon.

Enchanted isle of Pendragon

By Merlin bound

Sleeps 'neath the mound.

Great Arthur once and future king

Gareth, Gawain

Yseult, Ygraine

Brave Parsifal and fair Elaine

Mordred and Kay

Morgan le Fay.

Still dreaming lie in Avalon

To wake one morn

To Roland's horn.

Of silence and small things

Death, come not as a stranger.

When you hear the sound of silence, I am come.

The whispering ivy tendrils wrapped

About the walls of your deserted cities

Restless wings of fluttering swallows

In the solitude of shadowy eaves

And soft grey mice scuttling

In greyer shadows of a shrouded house.

The speckled deer grazing in fallow fields

That were once high with brazen corn.

Now sleeping enmantled

Under a scarlet profusion of poppies.

Songbirds in deserted gardens

Wrapped in love-in-the mist and columbine

Tangled sweet briar and Canterbury bells

Where the Purple Emperor now holds sway

In his court of Peacocks

Painted Ladies and Red Admirals.

The sound of silence heralds my coming.

The sea waves' sibilance over shifting sand

Whirlpools swirling round stones

That were once the proud spanning arches

Of your arrogant bridges

Now no more; the haunt of swans.

The russet rustling autumn leaves

Snowflakes swirling soft as swansdown

The gentle spring blossom lacing

The abandoned orchard, newly greened

When you hear the sound of silence, remember me.

The swan's song

Not life, but the manner of my living

Not death, but the manner of my dying

This, the sum's total.

Swan boat, thy sails unfurling

Black wings me enveloping

Across the dark seas

The moon's path following

To a new awakening

On a far shore.

To heaven ever ascending

To earth again descending

My soul, how like dark water!

Brief phosphorescence my living

The ocean's surface rippling

My fate, how like the wind!

Suspiro del moro

In sorrow sighed the Moorish king,

On leaving noble Granada

Through his bitter, salt tears gazing

At the high Sierra Nevada

Snowcapped mountain

Where a knight was cruelly slain

Of Abencerraje's race

For loving a fair Moorish queen

A palace of petrified lace,

Leonine fountain.

Through avenues, cool waters rise

In a secret and walled garden

Where the fountains of paradise

Spray dew on lily, jasmine, rose

Garden of Eden.


In may blossom silken gowned

Blushing Sprinrg, infant new born

The dew on spider's silver net

Crystalline: at dove grey dawn.

At dusk, the captive evening star

Caught on sickle moon's sharp horn,

Mirrored on the river's flaw

Smoothly glides the snowy swan.

Rays of dandelion suns

Gild fair summer's mantle green

Pearled day-eyed marguerites

Iris sceptred, rose-crowned queen,

Amidst the dormant wheat, wind-blown

Scarlet poppy's banner seen.

Heard on cloudless azure height

Plaint of burnished falcon keen.

Pierced and torn the mist-veiled sky

Swift spiralling swallows flight,

Flaming spears of autumn trees

Fiery red, the rowan bright;

Leaves windblown, the steely rain.

Gleaming gold the brackens' light,

Shadowed on the harvest moon

Poplars, stalwart, black, upright.

Chandeliers of pendant ice

Scintillate in star's cold shine

White-winged winter, ermine-cloaked,

Raven'darkened skies enshire.

With feathered snowflakes frosted,

Black lace of bare trees entwine,

Ivy, holly mistletoe

Eternal spire of fir and pine.



My laughter echoes in the song of the stream

My whisper is heard through the damp mist's grey hush

Moisture I breathe on the mossy velvat bank

On stalwart iris and the rose's morning blush.

My gown's foamd laced, the rainbow's iridescence,

Veiled in the waterfall's spray. I am Ondine,

The grass silvers, caressed by my dancing feet

My tears, the dew at dawn, diamantine

My face is mirrored in the emerald pool

My fingers, rain tapping on the window

I leap joyously high in the fountain cool.

Througho the heather's purple, in the highland brook

The river ripples my water weed tresses

Running scented by the pine forest's green

Tumbling wind tossed in the weir's turbulent froth

In the calm of the still mountain lake I'm seen.






Tu que naciste

Debajo de un sol abrasador meriodinal

Que nunca viste

Los cisnes blancos como la nevada boreal

O la encina

Contra el cielo gris, negra, desnuda, helada

Con la escarcha

Como la filigrana de las rejas forjadas

De casas blancas

Dormitando bajo el sol de mediodia

Tan inquietas

Las golondrinas revoloteando dia por dia

Sus alas negras

Buscan la solana, huyen la nevisca fria

Y ansiosas

Como yo buscando tu cلlida caricia

Del aire del sur.

Si me querيas

Como vuela el halcَn

Hacia el sol

Volarل mi corazon

Si me querيas

Como dulce cancion

Del ruiseٌor

Cantarل mi corazon

Si me querيas

Como paloma blanca

Busca pareja

Mi anhelante alma

Busca la tuya

Si tu vendrيas

Sobre las salinas

Se ciernan

Las golondrinas

Del mar

Y alegres vienen

Para siempre amar

Si tu vendrيas

En mis brazos quedar

Y me besarيas

Sin jamas parar

Como el ave marino

Te amaré

Sempiterno cariٌo

Te entregaré.

Wenn ich ein Vِglein war

Si yo ave fuera

Y dos alas tuviera

Volarيa junto a ti.

Como no soy pلjaro

Y volar no puedo

He de quedarme aqui.

Aunque estas lejos

Te veo en sueٌos

Aْn hablo contigo.

Pero cuando despierto

Me encuentro solo

No estas conmigo.

Ni por la noche siquiera

Pasa hora cualquiera

En que no despierte

Mi corazon, velando

Mil veces pensando


Que el tuyo me diste.

(Traducciَn del poema de Goethe)



Ay! que huela Orihuela

Aurariola como apesta!

Su urbanismo padece estrabismo

Porque no ven como construyen

Sin ninguno permiso chaletito para extranjero.

Como defraude el ajeno y el borrego foraneo

Aurariola que tufo, de la Segura sumidero!

Su Palacio de Justicia no toma nunca noticia

De denuncia cualquiera

Sus funcionarios son justicieros callejeros.

En el fuero de Teodomiro

En el reino de Leovigildo

En Orihuela no hay justicia aunque en el portal hay diosa

Que los ojos no venden pero injusticias no ven

Saque de los ojos el madero antes de juzgar el vecino.

Aurariola que hedor Orihuela sin pudor

Orihuela, que ramera, ciudad pazpuerca

Juzgue que no sea juzgado que con el mismo fallo

No serل juzgado en el ْltimo juicio

Por el Juez Supremo del Universo entero.

De Abderahman el reino de Cَrdoba el emirato

De Alfonso decimo Auroriola el feudo

San Juan de Jerusلlen hospitalero

Resuscita y ven al Hospital de Bartolomeo

Matasano y matadero

De la fértil Vega Baja, Orihuela legaٌosa

Verguenza,sinverguenza de la Espaٌa entera.

El sueٌo

Viniste a mي

En la oscura

Y fresca noche

Cuando dormي

En ti soٌaba

En silencio

Al amanecer

Se disipaba

Mis sueٌo de ti

Como niebla

Se desvanece

Por la maٌana


Verde pino

Pinar, pinatar


De resina



Tus ojos


De ciervo

Del monte pinoso

Pinar, pinatar

Verde mar

Barcos de pesca

En mar de plata

Bajo la luna

Luz de luna

En el pinar


Tu beso

Olor de romero

Como hiedra


Que abraza

La glorieta

Te abrazo


La paloma

Del palomar

Mi amor lleva

A tu ventana

Del rosal la rosa




Mi amor seٌala


A rememorar, romero

Que a ti te quiero


Una rosa para mi amor

Por un beso una flor


Trebol para la suerte

Laurel hasta la muerte


Guirnalda de ciprés

No me olvides





Limon, limonero

Flores del naranjal

Oro de Levante

Clavel en el ojal

A la desposada

Flores del naranjal

Al fiel amante

Flores del romeral

A la bien amada

Las flores del rosal

Flor refrescante

Para amor leal.