FULLOSIA PRESS Christmas 2006 About the RPPS The Rockaway Park Philosophical Society was formed by three friends in 1971. Its mission is to spead the true philosophy expressed in the Fullosia. The Society says it exaults the mundane and ridicules the exalted in conformance with the teachings of Rene Chateau Briand who scorned philosophers who prattle about life but don't know how to act in a dime store." The Society encourages and promotes American culure and a new national language American Standard Jive. Read more about The Society Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid Mr Carter's recent book has been much criticised for a pro - palestinian bias.	1. Dusk As night collects at the edges of the sky Cloud-gathered dusk falls Horizon’s line dimmed at sea Gulls look mournfully on the lapping waves And my soul flaps like a shade Lost without day’s light Across the bottom of the still sea. 2. Above the clouds Above the clouds Mad women shriek And rattle in their toothless cages Their diapers sop and stink It’s misty Tastes of heavens and death I don’t want to fly up there And dwile my way To eternity one day But stay forever on a saner ground Below the clouds Where rainbows arch And birds fly free. 3. London The Harry, England and St. George The Tiber Thames turns brown And dead in cold fog Double-deckers buzzing Black taxi’s hurrying like hearses The Tube’s bright and light buskers sing The City lifts her skirts Across all the marshes Of the sad, serpentine wastes. 4. The Windows That Shut Out the Sun Alone I with pot plants my I tell myself I amount to… But I don’t believe me In my apartment With the windows that shut out the sun Shade me and the plants Alone we are together I alone with them; loneliness my 20. Winter Will Soon Be Upon Us As now the leaves to gold change They draggle and droop along the grass Bony fingers emerge from the treetops and clutch for air Winds blow perpetually to loosen leaves As russet hangs next to summer’s tired green While solitary leaves twirl down To untidy tidy gardens Winter will soon be upon us And the trees await the frost patiently As gold leaves fall. 41. Near Winter Winking alive The tiny yellow windows And the jumble of streetlights Leading downtown While the sky near-bled of light A great cloud slumped in its middle Falls dark To leave the wind crooning and moaning In the spaces between the lit buildings Singing cold evening freedom in the near-winter 5. In a Storm Thunder splits the heavens Hail strafes the land Wind casts waves up the shores Where sands lie wet Rain beats down And leaves spin from the tree Like a dervish In a storm. 6. Even the Gulls Are Gone Turgid waves tossing Surly seas Mist lost horizon Boats dragging at high anchor Sniff of salt Power of life Pounded up by vagabond wind Gray as far as the sea-gray eye can see Even the gulls are gone. 7. A Dream of the Sea Pounding of seas unknown On sands that suck and sink Treacherously along mist-bound coastlines Where shadows flit in dreams The wind howls and moans But cannot be felt The cold is clammy and sweaty by turns The seawater mocks and froths But does not invite to dance And you are all alone Except for the black hills that backdrop. 8. My Sea-View The water’s gone The sea-view from my kitchen gobbled up Disappeared in mist It cost a fistful of dollars for that view My wife has left me Not worth mentioning Had enough of her anyhow But my sea-view, lost on a bad weather day Has suddenly gone And won’t be back until tomorrow, How disappointing. 29. A Wet Winter Wasteland The cows stand on wet, waterlogged ground Forlornly And the rain pours and pours The clouds choke out the sun sullenly The sea froths and foams Beating up on a narrowing band of sand The wind tugs in all directions cold Such a winter’s day Growing shorter with the weeks and months Devoid of snow – as yet Stretching out like a wet wasteland Murderously. 30. In the Long Northern Night Love lost land Forlorn in the mists of time Cradled by the ocean Lullabied by plaintive gulls Leafed in by forests Echoed by the shades In the long northern night. 9. What the Fat People Do Weeble-wobble is what the fat people do As they progress down the streets Bubble-wubble where elastic Meets fluid flesh Sad the heart-attacks, diabetes, Hardening arteries, rotting kidneys and dying livers Of obesity The Botticelli torsos balance on wobbling bums And the mouths feed on like fastidious crabs. 10. Jumping Djinns That day had thundered Hailed, rained Whipped October yellow leaves Like no tomorrow From the tree in the corner of the yard And it was cold The house knew no heating But my summer-browned body Parched of heat Shivered under two jumpers While the wind and the rain Jumped djinns in the yard. 11. The Twirling Vanes Wind pylons pivoting vanes in the patient winds While flags hang sea-calmed Boats busy out-to-sea Which roars meaninglessly at my feet Smoothing sand with heavy waves Port industries ply as relentlessly as the sea And the vanes twirl day and night Above the restless ocean. 12. The Surf Heaving and roaring the surf Heavy with sand sediment Ships at sea stationary Clouds fantastic, along the skyline sailing Horizon out-to-sea, below the curve of the world Wind still and mild Air – fall soft. 24. Frost Is Out of Fashion When frost alights the grass - At least it did last year It sparkled on car roofs And the owners were out with scrapers Huddled and bundled with their breaths pluming the air - But this year melancholy fall drags on Days are not so cold any more, I guess And frost sparkling like diamonds on the grass And spiders’ webs In the cold gleams of the morning sun Is out of fashion. 25. In Moonshine Hoar-frosted Athena with mighty moon shield Alights the land And stars like diamonds bore the firmament Geese that alighted the lake are gone And polished ice reflects the night While the trees await Their burden of patient snow Where summer gamboled once Shadows reverie in moonshine.	Geoff Jackson A remarkably cultured gentleman Geoff Jackson graces The Society with his submissions, ever pleasantly overlooking our many remisses. Geoff Jackson writes: Thank-you very much for our recent telephone conversation. I should also like to thank you very much for publishing so much of my work. I'm also pleased that I can write humorous pieces. I would also like to send you up a batch of recent poems. I am glad to hear that your eldest son intends to visit England to study. England is very accessible to an American due to our common language, and yet England is very different due to its having a very different culture and history. The police still don't carry firearms, the roads are narrow, the buildings are different etc etc. I hope your son will enjoy contact with us and that he will bring home good experiences. The days are long in summer but the clouds unavoidably and unpredictably roll to. The days are very short now in Denmark but the weather is very mild and wet. I met a guy recently in the gym who was interested in my article on Bubba Bill. I am looking forward very much to Xmas, although the thought of putting up decorations horrifies me. One of these days also, I shall have to tidy up after the removal! However, it's enough to get bye from day to day. I hope also that you are surviving the Xmas preparations but I hope to be writing again so "Merry Xmas" seems a little premature. A Cheery, Cheerio Geoff
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