A poem by Alec Derwent-Hope (1907–2000)
by Alec Derwent Hope
To be put on the train and kissed and given my ticket,
Then the station slid backward, the shops and the neon lighting,
Reeling off in a drunken blur, with a whole pound note in my pocket
And the holiday packed with Perhaps. It used to be very exciting.
The present and past were enough. I did not mind having my back
To the engine. I sat like a spider and spun
Time backward out of my guts; or rather my eyes; and the track
Was a Now dwindling off to oblivion. I thought it was fun:
The telegraph poles slithered up in a sudden crescendo
As we sliced the hill and scattered its grazing sheep;
The days were a wheeling delirium that led without end to
Nights when we plunged into roaring tunnels of sleep.
But now I am tired of the train. I have learned that one tree
Is much like another, one hill the dead spit of the next
I have seen tailing off behind all the various types of country
Like a clock running down. I am bored and a little perplexed;
And weak with the effort of endless evacuation
Of the long monotonous Now, the repetitive, tidy
Officialdom of each siding, of each little station
Labelled Monday, Tuesday; and goodness ! what happened to; Friday ?
And the maddening way the other passengers alter:
The schoolgirl who goes to the Ladies’ comes back to her seat
A lollipop blonde who leads you on to assault her,
And you’ve just got her skirts round her waist and her pants round her feet
When you find yourself fumbling about the nightmare knees
Of a pink hippopotamus with a permanent wave
Who sends you for sandwiches and a couple of teas,
But by then she has whiskers, no teeth and one foot in the grave.
I have lost my faith that the ticket tells where we are going.
There are rumours the driver is mad; we are all being trucked
To the abattoirs somewhere; the signals are jammed and unknowing
We aim through the night full speed at a wrecked viaduct.
But I do not believe them. The future is rumour and drivel;
Only the past is assured. From the observation car
I stand looking back and watching the landscape shrivel,
Wondering where we are going and just where the hell we are,
Remembering how I planned to break the journey, to drive
My own car one day, to have choice in my hands and my foot upon power,
To see through the trumpet throat of vertiginous perspective
My urgent Now explode continually into flower,
To be the Eater of Time, a poet and not that sly
Anus of mind the historian. It was so simple and plain
To live by the sole, insatiable influx of the eye.
But something went wrong with the plan: I am still on the train.
A few random poems:
- Федор Сологуб – Волна морская – веселый шум
- Владимир Британишский – Далекая скрипка
- Sinfonia Eroica poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Николай Гумилев – Леонард
- Snapshots Of A Daughter In Law
- A child said, What is the grass by Walt Whitman
- Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me by William Shakespeare
- Ольга Седакова – Госпожа и служанка
- English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 66. Томас Мур.
- I Don’t Know If History Repeats Itself by Yehuda Amichai
- The Naming Of Cats by T. S. Eliot
- The Captive Trumpeter by William Somervile
- little teddy bear lost by Raj Arumugam
- The End by Sharon Olds
- On A Miser, 2 (From The Greek) by William Cowper
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Ольга Берггольц – Озерный край
- Ольга Берггольц – Ответ
- Ольга Берггольц – От сердца к сердцу
- Ольга Берггольц – Осень (Мне осень озёрного края)
- Ольга Берггольц – Она дарить любила
- Ольга Берггольц – Огонь, и воду, и медные трубы
- Ольга Берггольц – Обещание
- Ольга Берггольц – О, наверное, он не вернётся
- Ольга Берггольц – О, где ты запела
- Ольга Берггольц – О да, простые, бедные слова
- Ольга Берггольц – Новогодний тост
- Ольга Берггольц – Ни до серебряной и ни до золотой
- Ольга Берггольц – Не знаю, не знаю, живу
- Ольга Берггольц – Не сына, не младшего брата
- Ольга Берггольц – Не может быть, чтоб жили мы напрасно
- Ольга Берггольц – Наш сад
- Ольга Берггольц – Нам от тебя теперь не оторваться
- Ольга Берггольц – Надежда
- Ольга Берггольц – На Ивана-пьющего
- Ольга Берггольц – Моя медаль
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works

Alec Derwent-Hope (1907–2000) was an Australian poet and essayist known for his satirical slant. He was also a critic, teacher and academic.