PUNCH-IN-HELL
Litter blowing capriciously along.
Round the hardy tourists on the Prom.
Huddled close against the British weather.
On the type of day that goes on for ever.
One larger knot than all the rest.
Round a stripy booth were closely pressed.
From their midst a plaintive noise,
Of tired and weary, girls and boys.
Then one cracked voice above them all,
Gave a strained and throaty sort of call.
"Hello girls and boys" it said.
That tiny little mis-shaped head.
"Where is Judy and the baby?"
"Cooking sausages in juicy gravy"
Judy. Baby. Policeman. Croc.
Play their part in the age old plot.
The story line is clearly tragic.
But still it works its ancient magic.
The kids are noisier than ever.
But now they're squealing all together.
Child abuse, assault and death.
Cause those darling devils to hold their breath.
There - within that seaside hell,
Redeemed by that wooden Punchinelle.
Author notes
There is a "sweet" folk song called Mr Punch and Judy Man by John Connolly and I had heard it many many times that year and tried to write a "sour" response. The muse overtook me though and it ended up hopeful. and then John C said he liked it too. Where did I go wrong.
In a list
What did you think
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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This is awsome i dont really know why i like it, i just think its pimpin hehe great job!!!
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Very serious discussion below, by people who know their poetry. I am too ill-equipped to comment at this level, but I liked the poem all right, which, I feel, is more important. And I am learning...
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pvenugopal
To know that someone enjoyed reading it and feels it works is nice to hear. I sometimes think that we analyse poems a little too much.
Thanks Venu
Jim
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Thanks again.
Funnily enough I've just been talking with John Connolly tonight. As it says in the notes he is the guy that wrote the original song that inspired this in the first place. Coincidences abound.
Jim S
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Wow, you are by far one of my favourite writers on this site. I'm glad I stumbled across!
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I liked it immensely! You met all the criteria for the contest!
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Oh dear you're right again. I thought you were refering to the last stanza but it wasn't there was it?
As to the offered ending it seems to me a little too terse and harsh in line 2. However that could be because I'm used to the original. I'll try it on an audience and see what happens. Thanks for taking the effort to help anyway.
JS -
Child abuse, assault and death,
Make those devils hold their breath,
There, within that seaside hell,
Redeemed by wooden Punchinelle.
NB It's DEFINITELY "Play THEIR part in the age old plot" !
Robin. -
Last stanza needs editing, it's clumsy and spoils the flow.
And it's "their" part.
Otherwise, pretty good.
I enjoyed it.
Robin. -
I hope this is getting to the right person. I'm finding navigation awkward. Here goes;
It may seem strange but I have no idea of iambic pentametres or trochaic metres. I was part of the generation that underwent the experiment of learning English without learning grammar, structure or form. I had an excellent pair of English teachers [Tony Reavill & J J Waddington Feather. If they're out there, "Thank You"!] who taught me to listen and to read.
I structure my poetry by ear, repeating and then polishing until it feels and sounds right to me. JS
Edited on Jun 04, 10:35 because 'poor punctuation not originally noticed'. -
I'm just curious... Do you intentionally use meters or are you writing only by ear? I see a lot of iambic and trochaic meter in this and in the other pieces I read... it is there too.
Just wondering...
Best wishes adn
s... ~genielassie~
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I see nothing wrong with this write. If you want tragic I guess the last stanza could be eliminated and the stanza before that changed too...
"The story line is clearly tragic.
But still it works its ancient magic.
The kids are noisier than ever.
As the dropping bombs slice feet from leather.
Now that's tragic...
Eddy
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PUNCH AND JUDY MAN
(John Connolly)
[D]Down the lanes of [Em]foggy chimneys,
[G]Through the little [D]seaside [A]town,
[D]Strides the east wind [Em]like a dragon,
[G]Strewing leaves of [D]ragged [A]brown.
[G]Winter's planting [D]icicles
A[Em]long the barren [A]shore,
And the [G]Punch and [Em]Judy [A]Man
Is gone for [D]e[G]ver.
(Chorus)
[D]Mr.Punch and Judy Man,
Bring me back the childhood [G]land of [G]Sum[D]mer
Slot machines and penny arcades
Jingle jangle on the pier,
Gone the sound of laughing children,
Fading with the dying year.
Through the town he wanders
In the misty autumn haze,
And the Punch and Judy Man
Is gone for ever.
Punchinello, Punchinello,
Where have you and Judy gone?
Gone to join the swelling ranks
Of things that we look back upon.
Memory can conjure you
From dreams of summer days,
But the Punch and Judy Man
Is gone for ever.
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