Two poems by Barry Peskin

A WORLD OF WORK Where once the church bells waken man The shrill alarm does duty Where once man toiled with skilful pride Now lurks such dull monotony The slavish repitition of his Work weighed not in the satisfaction That skill does give a man But onl

A WORLD

OF WORK

Where once the church bells waken man

The shrill alarm does duty

Where once man toiled with skilful pride

Now lurks such dull monotony

The slavish repitition of his

Work weighed not in the satisfaction

That skill does give a man

But only for the money that it brings

And at the end of a mindless day

Where once his home was full of life

Conversation and laughter,

He sits in silence, watching pictures ...

And so to bed without a thought

To call his own; no product

From his hands that he can show with pride

Where once the church bells waken man

The shrill alarm does duty

AFRICA

The small brown lips now cracked and dry

Share their mother's nipple with the flies

The claw like hands so perfect once

Clutch in hopeless thirst the shrivelled breast,

Once the lustful dream of many men.

Now the only moisture to be found is in

The mother's eyes

BARRY PESKIN

(These and other poems by Barry Peskin appear in Left To Me, his memories of a life in local politics)