by David J.

Gravells

by David J. Gravells
POEMS WITH A BITE
Copyright 2006 David J. Gravells
Hi Sown Press
6608 Law Drive
Calgary, AB T3E 6A1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written
permission of the author and publisher.

Cover photo: Self portrait by the author

DIGITALLY PRINTED BY

ISBN 0-9739590-1-0
Printed in Canada

DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to my family.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.
Some of the poems have appeared in Greens Magazine.
The Sorrento Scenario. The Poetry Church,
and other publications.

TABLE OF CONTENTS
Water Colour Woes ................................................................. 1
Montreal Massacre................................................................... 2
The Long Ago Room............................................................... 3
The Magpie ............................................................................. 5
The Conker Game................................................................... 6
How to Bury Trevor Holmes.................................................... 7
Driving Down The Kicking Horse Pass ................................... 9
Road Rage. ........................................................................... 10
The Launch of the Hector,Pictou, Nova Scotia, Year 2000. ... 11
Long Time Friend.................................................................. 13
My Lord Conrad Black.......................................................... 14
The Holy Elements. Earth,Water, Fire, Air; ........................... 15
Christian Holy Elements ....................................................... 17
Doing the laundry.................................................................. 18
Evacuated from Coventry....................................................... 19
The List of New Gods. .......................................................... 21
Brass Storks. .......................................................................... 23
Fish Tank............................................................................... 24
The Turkey. ........................................................................... 24
The Death of A Cedar Waxwing............................................ 25
Food Bank ............................................................................. 27
A Letter to my ego self. .......................................................... 29
Snowflake. ............................................................................. 30

The Snapped Lock................................................................. 31

September the Eleventh. ........................................................ 32
Egypt..................................................................................... 33
The Shuswap Lake................................................................. 35
Shema.................................................................................... 36
The Branch of a Winter Tree. ................................................ 37
The Tryst ............................................................................... 38
No Speak English. ................................................................. 39
Millennium Poem.................................................................. 40
Hale Bop. .............................................................................. 41
Abadcold .............................................................................. 42
Grandpas Workshop,............................................................. 43
My Friend. ............................................................................ 44
The Limerick......................................................................... 45
The Holy Icon....................................................................... 45
A Druid Valentine ................................................................. 46
The Diving Board.................................................................. 47
Vacuum Cleaner .................................................................... 48
A Cloister Requiem. .............................................................. 49
Canada Call to Arms ............................................................. 50
Why I am a Christian ............................................................ 52

This is the first poem I composed, which started me believing that I might have
a talent in poetry. This one was dedicated to my wife, who is an artist.

Water Colour Woes

To gaze upon a page of virgin white,
to paint with laden brush, poised in fingers;
does seem to violate that pristine sight,
and yet, the artist must assert his right
to change this state; yet doubt still lingers.
Pallor pale, and sweating palm, cannot strive
to paint a perfect portrait, and reveal
a picture of a person posed; alive:
And yet a Flemish Master could contrive
to capture form and flesh tint and tone,
This barren page: Cold light on arctic snow.
Why am I transfixed, why am I so slow?
Oh hell! A pox on masters dead and gone.
Ill just close my eyes, and splash it on.

Poems with a Bite

It wasnt long after I started writing poetry that the Poly-Technic massacre
occurred. I felt I had to express my disgust in this poem. Was it in 1992?

Montreal Massacre
Mourners stand by and cry,
families weep, and we all
wring our hands, and feel guilty
for what happened in Montreal.
Could there be no reprieve?
Are we cursed by the sin of Cain?
We ask,
Can it be real,
that fourteen girls were slain
by a man?
No! Not a man, by a youth insane.
We only deceive.
Is it not strange,
this happened in a center of learning?
Where pupils strive for understanding
or are we too naive?

David Gravells

The Long Ago Room is about the kitchen, and common room where I spent so
much time while I was evacuated, during the second world war. It had been the
grooms quarters within the stables compound of a large country manor.

The Long Ago Room

WW2; Evacuation. 1939-1943.
The Spartan room
that nurtured me
four long years:
Rough red squares of a scrubbed tile floor
walls whitened with vapour,
and running beads of moisture
draped from a grey beamed ceiling
three times my height
festooned with fly paper.
A table built for at least a score
of men, too high for boys,
burnt umber benches, polished
by rough serge covered bottoms.
Thats how I remember it.

Poems with a Bite

The deep black range,

source of all heat
always glowed.
Coal buckets, always neat,
hugged close.
The rack above the stove dried
pans and kettles, all black,
hung as oriental gongs
except, one copper kettle
a bright beacon
which reflects
my awry eyes.
Yes! I remember it.
The steamy cold sink, where I stood
ever washing dishes, with racks
of dinner plates, dripping
chrome colanders
and attendant tongs.
Thats how I remember it
but I cant go back,
it might not be
as I remember it.

David Gravells

The Magpie
Sing a song of the magpie
an avian aristocrat
who always dresses for dinner
in tails, and a black cravat.
He dines on eggs, which he finds delectable
and unshelled peanuts; his tastes impeccable
nowhere is there a bird more respectable
he will steal from all, to be fair and equitable.
He is a prince in his domain
and regards all others with disdain
especially so with wandering hawks
for whom he renders piercing squawks.
But he loves to sit in trees and discourse
on topics other birds avoid, of course.

Poems with a Bite

This poem is about a national game in the United Kingdom. In the Fall
(Autumn) Horse Chestnut trees are gleaned for their fruit, called Conkers,
which although inedible, provide endless hours of amusement for young boys.

The Conker Game

Uses the fruit of a horse chestnut tree,
when ripe it is brown and shiny,
and comes elegantly contained,
within a spiky husk,
but softly spined
so tender skin of youth can find
the glossy kernel,
the sight of which brings hope eternal
to young boys,
their objectives all the same,
to own the champion conker,
and relish in the fame.
If this game is new to you
hold a conker and pierce it through,
thread it with a piece of string
and tie a knot, (one end will do).
Challenge foes, and strike in turn
and when his breaks;
smile;
but never let on
that you knew it would win,
because you had soaked it
in vinegar, and gin.

David Gravells

Purchase this book and others at http://ShopPagemaster.ca