A photo of the recovered Kursk (Wikitour.io)A Poem on the Russian Submarine Kursk and Other Poetry by Rod Walford The Society May 2, 2020 Beauty, Culture, Humor, Poetry 7 Comments Deep Regrets Dedicated to the memory of the 118 men of the Russian submarine Kursk, which exploded and sank in the Barents Sea on August 12th 2000. The protocols of men of power; Agendas passed in hiding. Procrastination steals the hour, Now there is none abiding. Unseen, forsaken in the deep. Paralysis sub-zero. A frozen slumber’s tragic keep. The silence of the hero. As nations feel all hope recede, One hundred men and more Lay perished now, through lack of heed Upon the ocean floor. Entombed in freezing Arctic flows, Their deeds for evermore Recalled in ice-bound echoes Where the elements do war. O Trinity of love and power, Receive into thy grace These men, who in their final hour The cruel seas embrace. Let every man who evermore ‘Neath lonely sea or sky Shall sail, remember,—there but for The grace of God go I. ©2000 Rod Walford On Changing Nappies There once was a daddy A father of three With a beautiful daughter Who bounced on his knee Her little eyes sparkled Like sunlight on bling And each time she giggled He felt his heart sing Now he was her daddy His love was complete And he cared for her needs From her head to her feet He would feed her and dress her But some thought it strange That when needs be in public Her nappy he’d change “How gross!” How disgusting!” “That’s awful!” they’d say “He’s a dirty old man— They should take him away!” The women went on With a bitch and a moan “You just can’t have a man With a young girl alone!” Now the daddy was sad But resolved to be strong For he knew that their thinking Was totally wrong It was just one more step In the feminist plan To lay every sin At the foot of a man If they’d had their way They’d have had the man hung As they spat out their words With a poisonous tongue But a wise man was daddy And calmly replied That his love for his daughter Would not be denied “Of course there’s a few Who are twisted and bent But it’s not that all men Have demonic intent” “And if you can see evil” He said “You will find It is not in my caring But there in your mind.” Then he picked up his girl And he said “Come on Miss!” Then she threw her arms round him …And gave him kiss. ©Rod Walford Rod Walford is an Englishman living in Auckland, New Zealand and has been writing poetry for some 25 years. He is a semi-retired diesel fuel injection engineer. He has self-published several books of rhyming poetry including “Timeless,” “Real Poetry for Real Women (written by a man),” and “One Hour before the Dawn.” Access his website here: www.rodwalfordpoetry.com NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who harasses or disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comment or comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 7 Responses Margaret Coats May 2, 2020 “Deep Regrets” is a very moving poem. The use of the freezing sea image is quite appropriate, even though many men were killed by explosions and fire, and those who could have survived apparently succumbed to lack of oxygen. Each sailor who ventures BENEATH the lonely sea is a hero just in taking up that dangerous duty. The second poem well describes one of the many risks a father must undertake today (not to mention traditional burdens). It is hardly surprising that society is experiencing a crisis of fatherhood. Thanks to the good men persevering in the vocation. Reply C.B. Anderson May 2, 2020 Rod, In “… Nappies” you somehow got by with almost no punctuation except for punctuation marks. I think this was possible because all your clauses and phrases were exactly one line long. In some strange way, with end-stopped grammatical units, line-ends seem to function as a type of virtual punctuation. This, I think, is a useful observation, because, as it happens, I never felt that anything you expressed was unclear or in need of traffic control. Reply Rod Walford May 2, 2020 The 2nd poem was based on an incident in Australia where a father was abused by a self-righteous mother for using the parent’s room in a shopping centre to change his child’s nappy. He was threatened with being reported as a paedophile by the abusive mother. Once this hit social media, other fathers spoke of their experiences with the same type of bigotry and self-righteous mothers who believe any man around children must be up to no good. Reply Rod Walford May 2, 2020 Thank you C.B. I am going to take that as a huge compliment as I am a great admirer of your attention to detail regarding the laws and statutes of poetry. Somehow I feel like a naughty schoolboy who has only just escaped the class in time to avoid the cane! Reply C.B. Anderson May 3, 2020 Sorry, Rod, but “punctuation marks” in my initial comment should have been “quotation marks.” I hope this clarifies my comment. But what do you think of the idea that line breaks are a sort of punctuation? Rod Walford May 5, 2020 Yes thank you C.B. you did convey to me that the communication worked fine. I completely concur with your thoughts on punctuation – I generally pay scant regard to it whilst I am writing ( as you’ve probably noticed!) and only if I am submitting for competition then I will go through it with a more diacritical eye. C.B. Anderson May 3, 2020 Rod, There are no laws and there are no statutes; there is only clarity in communication. Without that, nothing else matters. I hope I already conveyed the idea that your poem communicated perfectly. Punctuation is a tool to facilitate communication. Used or abused, it doesn’t alter substance or turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse. Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.