Bernard Saint

 

 

Petronius

 

Petronius ‘the arbiter of elegance’?

Fastidious throughout a long career

It took three days and nights   -

The binding and unbinding of his wounds

In that official suicide

Nero had decreed without due foresight

His victim would obey ‘between the lines’   -

 

He had so many friends

The flow of blood was halted

To greet them and renew their bowls of wine

The festive awnings and the seafood buffet

The lavish tales of travel and amusement

 

Time flew by

We thought it was his birthday

 

 

An Urban Myth

 

The ‘Ghost Bus of Notting Hill’

Is a phantom Number Seven

 

Fully lit the Night Bus

Driverless   Conductorless

No apparent passengers aboard   -

 

Some claim to have seen it in full sail

On Ladbroke Grove   on Westbourne Grove

It did not stop for them

 

One night when you are heading home

Euphoric and a trifle stoned

Justifying to yourself

Some small illicit ‘fling’

 

Perhaps it will stop for you  

 

 

Café In The Quarter

 

‘A blonde and beardless merchant in Harar?

I doubt it is your man…

This Rimbaud is a perfect gent

He does not drink arak nor take majoun

No kif pouch does the round when he meets here

Those hired hands assisting in his trade

Who say he can’t be French because

He never visits brothels

And pays their wage on time   -

The sum agreed and sometimes with a bonus   -

If they are sick or injured in his work

He sends to pay the doctor for a nurse

I think he’s what is called ‘a natural Moslem’

 

All in all

He won’t last long out here’

 

 

 

Bernard Saint © 2020

A ‘House’

 

‘That Memento Mori over there   -

Ancient gent with leopard spots

For hands   and still

A flower in his lapel?

 

Be kind to him

He tips more than he pays

To girls who may remind him

Once he was the lover of…

 

Yes…of Ballet Russe

So keep your wits about you

On your toes

And fly

 

Don’t ask me!

This world is full

Of novelties   surprises

Love conundrums’

 

 

 

Marcus Aurelius Arrested

 

‘Hubris brings a swift descent

Neither must we seek

Our residence resumed within the womb

 

Life is a line so few can walk

I was stopped and breathalysed for being sober

 

While self-intoxicated crowds

Foamed at their mouths to yap inconsequentially!

 

My lawyer gods are otherwise engaged   -

Delayed upon their golf course

 

So for a while this ‘jail’ may just suffice   -

Get your head down sonny   Sleep it off’

 

 

Bernard Saint © 2020