The South Bank
This poem was written during a visit to the British Poetry Library in London, when the author was still a student at Buckinghamshire Chilterns University College. This was the author's first visit to the capital and also his first city experience.
We sit beneath black friar’s bridge, proverbial trolls,
Sipping savoury brews out of up-turned skulls,
Staring out across the writhing spine of the river,
At the novel spires and domes of the city.
Old gives way to the new, but new is born of the old,
No more the walls of marble and roads paved with gold,
Iron fish wrapt around black iron staves,
Reminiscent of heads spiked on righteous spears.
Ivory towers now sprout from modern splendour,
Reaching the skies, awash in the suns grandeur,
The seat of ancient and noble monarchies,
Home now to politics, business and snobberies.
As a wise country-mouse once upon a time,
Said to his city-born cousin in a nursery rhyme,
You can keep your utopia of materialistic pleasure,
I prefer the country to this life of uncertainty and danger.
Copyright 2001© Nasrullah Anwar