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MY EAST-END POEMS. I was aked to write a blog about my life as a poet. I decided to introduce you to a time of my childhood in a squalid quarter of London's East-End, called Whitechapel. Whitechapel is nortorious for Jack the Ripper (In fact the street I was raised in was known as 'Blood Alley'; it's real name being Bucks Row. Two doors from my little two-up, two-down, was where the Ripper killed his first victim!) However... I digress... Herewith are a few of my poems from the book called 'PEA-SOUPER'. Should you not understand some of the slang words, please ask. Ron S King. PEA-SOUPER. In those good old days When fog raised an 'aze And toffs went round ‘Cock a Hoop’ When a dark curtain falls And blocks in like walls We’re all in the same bleedin’ soup You really could place Hands in front of yer face Never quite sure where you’re goin’ It’s black as the night Not sure what’s in sight Though thieves have their eyes a-glowin’ But it’s nice for a snog With a ‘Bird’ in the fog A ‘Pea-Souper’ keeps nosey peepers out Cause no-one’s viewing What you is doing When bleedin’ thick fog and smog are about 
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1/23/2008 10:10 am |
Thank you. too, for your comments. I have five books of diverse subjects already published. Maybe I'm lucky, I often write four poems a day and seem to have no trouble writing a poem on any subject given. I must admit that, once I have written a book, I then do not bother with the selling... Perhaps we writers exist on a higher, spiritual plane, non-profitable and non-materialistic... lol. Indeed; i do note that you, too have a way with words which need more than a passing read... Be well, Poetess. Ron.
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