From a Prodigal Son

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SRD
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From a Prodigal Son

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Here come I to my own again,
Fed, forgiven and known again,
Claimed by bone of my bone again
And cheered by flesh of my flesh.
The fatted calf is dressed for me,
But the husks have greater zest for me,
I think my pigs will be best for me,
So I'm off to the Yards afresh.

I never was very refined, you see,
(And it weighs on my brother's mind, you see)
But there's no reproach among swine, d'you see,
For being a bit of a swine.
So I'm off with wallet and staff to eat
The bread that is three parts chaff to wheat,
But glory be! - there's a laugh to it,
Which isn't the case when we dine.

My father glooms and advises me,
My brother sulks and despises me,
And Mother catechises me
Till I want to go out and swear.
And, in spite of the butler's gravity,
I know that the servants have it I
Am a monster of moral depravity,
And I'm damned if I think it's fair!

I wasted my substance, I know I did,
On riotous living, so I did,
But there's nothing on record to show I did
Worse than my betters have done.
They talk of the money I spent out there -
They hint at the pace that I went out there -
But they all forget I was sent out there
Alone as a rich man's son.

So I was a mark for plunder at once,
And lost my cash (can you wonder?) at once,
But I didn't give up and knock under at once,
I worked in the Yards, for a spell,
Where I spent my nights and my days with hogs.
And shared their milk and maize with hogs,
Till, I guess, I have learned what pays with hogs
And - I have that knowledge to sell!

So back I go to my job again,
Not so easy to rob again,
Or quite so ready to sob again
On any neck that's around.
I'm leaving, Pater. Good-bye to you!
God bless you, Mater! I'll write to you!
I wouldn't be impolite to you,
But, Brother, you are a hound!

Rudyard Kipling.
Children are like Slinkys - not much use for anything, but it always brings a smile to your face when you throw them down the stairs. Chinchilla
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Re: From a Prodigal Son

Post by Little John »

What inspired that, then?
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Re: From a Prodigal Son

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I came across it recently and thought that it might be appreciated in this little corner of the forum. It doesn't get much other use.
Children are like Slinkys - not much use for anything, but it always brings a smile to your face when you throw them down the stairs. Chinchilla
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Re: From a Prodigal Son

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But why think of posting that particular poem? Did it somehow ring your bell?
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Re: From a Prodigal Son

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I said;
I came across it recently
.

I'm not a great poetry reader finding it, on the whole, either facile or impenetrable, so when I do come across something that I like, for whatever reason, I tend to post it, be it poetry or anything else, I enjoy it and I'm a big-hearted fella who likes to share my enjoyments with others, although it often feels that I'm casting pearls before swine, speaking of which, I must go shop, the County Championship climaxes today and it's been so exciting I don't want to miss the final flourishes.
Children are like Slinkys - not much use for anything, but it always brings a smile to your face when you throw them down the stairs. Chinchilla
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Re: From a Prodigal Son

Post by Little John »

I like poetry. some of it is a bit up its own arse but a lot more works on several levels. I first got into it via the Mersey Poets and the Barrow Poets back in the late 60s. It was cool then, I suppose it was something to do with the Jazz poets and Dylan.

Have you ever listened to Pattie Smith doing Smells like Teen Spirit? there's excellent poetry stuck in the middle of her version.

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Post by SRD »



I think I prefer the Ukes version.
Children are like Slinkys - not much use for anything, but it always brings a smile to your face when you throw them down the stairs. Chinchilla
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