Category Archives: Robin Helweg-Larsen

Short poem: RHL, ‘Coat’

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Sew, sew, sew your coat
Gently down the seam;
Threadily, threadily, threadily, threadily,
Joseph wants a dream.

*****

A throwaway poem. For anyone unfamiliar with the references, it blends what is often sung as a round:
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream;
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream
with the idea behind the Andrew Lloyd Webber / Tim Rice musical ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat‘.

The poem was published in Lighten Up Online (aka LUPO). Thanks, Jerome Betts!

Photo: “Benjamin School District 25 production of ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat’. March 9th, 2013.” by old06cphotos is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Short poem: RHL, ‘Sassy, Classy’

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Easy to be young and sassy;
add experience, and it’s classy.

*****

I have absolutely no idea what inspired this couplet. Be that as it may, it was published in The Asses of Parnassus in October – thanks, Brooke Clark!

Photo: “Cece 220223 (1)” by ceciliajaner is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

RHL, ‘Boy With Scab’

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The boy he’s always been still takes delight
In testing scabs on elbows, knees,
To see if fingernails can assert their right
To lift with satisfying ease
The lid from off the mystery healing box
And see the flesh beneath the skin
Where the wise body-mind slowly unlocks
Corpuscles and white pus within.
The hint of pain, like some itch that you scratch,
Is fun alongside look-and-see.
What does the boy do with that useless patch,
The scab? Easy: autophagy.

*****

Curiosity is a useful aspect of intelligence. This poem first published in Lighten Up Online (aka LUPO). Thanks, Jerome Betts!

Photo: “War Stories” by Noël Zia Lee is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Sonnet: RHL, ‘Communication Breakdown’

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I love you with that love floppy and large,
As one of us a man – the other, dog;
Involved, detached, our life’s a travelogue
Of countrysides seen from a rented barge,
“Travels With You” along some river’s marge,
Failing at interspecies dialogue
Till tries at talk are lost in night and fog,
Drifting with batteries we can’t recharge.

Yet there’s no option but to travel on,
Each varied day no different than before,
Wondering if we’ll find some magic door
Which, risking entry, gives communion;
And if, by talking, love would be enhanced,
Or if we’d then destroy all we have chanced.

*****

Sonnet originally published in Candelabrum in 2007.

Photo: “Accordion player” by eltpics is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.

RHL, ‘Fighting with Language’

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Trap and entangle it,
wrangle it, strangle it,
wrinkle it, rankle it,
manacle, mangle it!

Wrap it, unstrap it,
and rip it and strip it,
then pollard it, top it
and limb it and lop it,
and lift it and drop it
and turn it and flop it.

Then roll it out, slice it thin,
weave about, build it in,
spatter with sparkles and
sprinkle with glitter: you win!

*****

I started this poem in 2008 and abandoned it. Running across it a couple of months ago, I worked on it and sent it in to George Simmers who has just published it in this month’s Snakeskin. Keep your scraps – you may find a use for them in the future!

And by the way: December Snakeskin will be a book fair. Any poets who have published a book or pamphlet of verse over the past year are invited to contact George Simmers: editor@snakeskin.org.uk and if he thinks your book is suitable, he will ask you to send a sample poem, a short introduction and a link to where the book can be bought – and these will go online on December 1st – in time for Christmas shoppers.

Photo: from Snakeskin 322.

Short poem: RHL, ‘Tease’

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I feel good that you want it;
you know it’s under there;
it makes me feel important
but I don’t like your stare.

I wear enough to hide it
though all around is bare;
it’s treasure, ’cos you want it;
who you are, I don’t care.

*****

This poem was first published in Rat’s Ass Review (as are many politically incorrect poems), Fall/Winter 2024 – thanks, Roderick Bates!

Photo: “Lustful model teasing on a boat in a bikini.” by @yakobusan Jakob Montrasio is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Short poem: RHL, ‘Neanderthals’

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Watch how the status of the poor
Neanderthals will rise
when we admit we thank them for
red hair, white skin, blue eyes.

*****

“All non-Africans today may have a roughly equal proportion of Neanderthal DNA, but some of the most visible physical traits appear to have been inherited especially by modern Europeans, and northern Europeans in particular. Here is a list of traits that distinguished Neanderthals from Homo sapiens, but that you could also have inherited if you are of European or Western Eurasian descent.

  • Rufosity : i.e. having red hair, or brown hair with red pigments, or natural freckles.
  • Fair skin, hair and eyes : Neanderthals are believed to have had blue or green eyes, as well as fair skin and light hair. Having spent 300,000 years in northern latitudes, five times longer than Homo sapiens, it is only natural that Neanderthals should have developed these adaptive traits first.”

I skipped 11 traits to get to these two. If you want the whole list, they’re at https://www.eupedia.com/europe/neanderthal_facts_and_myths.shtml

I’m just amused, of course, by the chance to label famously red-white-and-blue flag-waving countries as Neanderthals: the US, UK, France, Netherlands, and Russia… (as well as many other less historically aggressive countries around the world).

This poem was first published in Rat’s Ass Review (as are many politically incorrect poems), Fall/Winter 2024 – thanks, Roderick Bates!

Image: ChatGPT from RHL prompt

Sonnet: RHL, ‘Walls of Work’

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With walls of work that never wear away
my house is halfway hilled above a plain;
ghosts of unwritten books moan and complain;
I step out on to scree, sloping and grey.
I’ve tried for thirty years to build up high,
raising five kids free of smog, vice and town;
the treacherous slope of scree slips, I fall down,
am shown – kids grown and gone – more work’s a lie.

Now I’m spreadeagled on the eager shale,
not daring move, gripping at slipping fears
of sliding down to sneered-at country vale
where poor folk pick, don’t buy, fresh fruit from trees
and I could go, unknown, to known warm seas,
run barefoot on the beach of my ideas.

*****

First published in The Road Not Taken – The Journal of Formal Poetry in Summer 2016 (but written a decade before that); thanks, Dr. Kathryn Jacobs!

“While everybody on the beach is relaxing, this chap runs by like he stole running.” by Gerald Lau is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Using form: Nonce form: RHL, ‘Camelot at Dusk’

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From under low clouds spreading from the south
The red sun drops slow to night’s waiting mouth.
Rush lamps are lit; the guards changed on the walls;
Supper will not be served in the Great Halls
With Arthur still away. Each in their room,
The members of the Court leave books or loom
To say their Vespers in the encroaching gloom.

Lancelot, up in his tower,
Sees the sunset storm clouds glower,
Feels his blood’s full tidal power,
Knows he has to go.
In her bower, Gwenivere
Puts a ruby to her ear,
Brushes firelight through her hair,
Feels her heartbeat grow.

Guard, guard, watch well:
For the daylight thickens
And the low cloud blackens
And the hot heart quickens
To rebel.

From his tower, caring not
For consequences, Lancelot
Crosses courts of Camelot,
Pitying his King.
In her bower, Gwenivere
Feels his presence coming near,
Waits for footfalls on the stair,
Lets her will take wing.

Guard, guard, watch well:
If attention slackens
When the deep bond beckons,
Evil knows Pendragon’s
In its spell.

And as the storm clouds, rubbing out the stars,
Deafened the castle and carved lightning scars,
Drenched Arthur rode for flash-lit Camelot
Where he, by Queen and Knight, was all forgot.

*****

‘Camelot at Dusk’ was originally published by Candelabrum, a now-defunct poetry magazine in the UK which appeared twice-yearly from April 1970 to October 2010. Candelabrum provided what was, in the 1970s, a very rare platform for British poets working in metrical and rhymed verse.

Technically, the poem uses a variety of forms. The opening and closing passages use iambic pentameter with simple sequential rhyme for a level of detachment (and the only times Arthur is mentioned by name). The passages with Lancelot and Gwenivere use shorter trochaic lines with denser rhymes for more intensity. The passages of warnings to the guards… well, they have a shifting but repeating structure all their own.

Because of the bracketing of the more emotional passages by the more detached opening and closing, the piece feels very complete. As a whole, it is a nonce form. Whether I can ever repeat it successfully, I don’t know. I have tried, but not been satisfied with the result.

‘Camelot at Dusk’ can also now be found in The Hypertexts, which gives it a very respectable Seal of Approval. And it features in the Potcake Chapbook ‘Lost Love’.

Photo: “Eilean Donan Castle at Dusk” by Bruce MacRae is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Short poem: RHL, ‘Many Marriages’

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Lots of marriage is good –
go ahead! We all should…
but bigamy sadly‘s illegal.
The solution, of course,
is: Encourage divorce!
And remarry. Kings do it. Be regal!

*****

Just published in The Asses of Parnassus – thanks, Brooke Clark!

Photo: “Charles Camilla Jamaica 2008” by Mattnad is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.