For Bob Crow
Poem for Bob Crow (cheers W.H. Auden)
Stop all the docks, cut off the trains,
Start the mariners striking, be still the cranes,
Silence the busses and with muffled bullhorn
Bring out the coffin, let the workers come.
Let politicians circle, moaning overhead
confessing on the airwaves, He Is RED,
Put nooses round the white necks of the bosses,
Let the riot policemen carry their own crosses.
He was my leader, my future, my inspiration, the best,
My health my safety, my Sunday rest,
My comrade, my struggle, my speech, my song;
I thought his passion would last for ever: I was wrong.
The scars still wanted now: proudly borne every one;
Pack up the moon and don't buy the sun;
Crossing the ocean and tracks where he could.
For everything he did, continues to deliver good.
In Solidarity Bob Crow
Tue 25th Mar 2014 15:44
Mon 24th Mar 2014 20:38
Nice adaption Laura,
But having been a union guy (and known many)and
barring a few out - standers I don`t think we were really that good..honest
Mon 24th Mar 2014 17:19
Don't know enough about the man to comment,but enjoyed the poem. Nice take on Auden.
Mon 24th Mar 2014 10:06
Jaz 父 Thomas
Sun 23rd Mar 2014 17:37
Thank you he meant alot.
<Deleted User> (10841)
Sun 23rd Mar 2014 11:13
I really love the Rhythm and sentiment of this, I'm sure Bob is looking from where ever he is beyond the veil and smiling.
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