We always knew our Art Director at Welsh Icons, Norris Nuvo was a talented chap but it was only after one of our recent live events that he let slip that he wrote poetry as well.
It took some persuasion but he has finally consented to allow us to publish a few of his verses which we hope you enjoy as much as we do.
[Go gently into the night] Up your Dylan Thomas!
[Go gently into the night] Up your Dylan Thomas!
Now ladies and gents, I’ll tell you no lies
You cannot escape from eventual demise
Not the fat nor the thin, the stupid, the wise,
No-one escapes, everyone dies
But no-one is ready; it’s such a surprise
When it’s your turn to snuff it, everyone cries,
“It’s too soon, I’m not finished, I’m not ready to die,
I’m too young, it’s too early, Oh why me, Oh why”
Now it’s no good you begging, crying and sighing.
When the reaper comes crawling there’s no replying
‘Cos if your still breathing when he comes a calling
His scythe will be heaving and heads will be falling
And you’ll be a weeping, there’s no denying
When death comes a creeping and you begin dying
You’ll grovel and whimper and hate and despise
And bargain and cheat and tell lots of lies
To lengthen your life-line and strengthen your ties
With your wheeling and dealing, your plans to revise
Begging for more time, some compromise
Hoping for life, to return, a reprise
But whatever you did, whatever you said
Your time has run out, and now you are dead
Soon to be buried and then best forgotten
Soon to be worm-food, stinking and rotten
Or dug up and stole, just a naked cadaver
To be chopped up, and gaped at, by some crazy carver
Then shown off at freak shows, an all that palaver
And then off to be judged by the Almighty father
Will it be Heaven, complete with an harp?
Or brimstone an pitchforks, shiny an sharp
Living in grace within Heavens walls
Or tortured for ever in Lucifer’s Halls
Nah I wish you no sorrow and I wish you no ill
So when you wake up tomorrow do what you will
Just remember you’re mortal and can die or be killed
And will step through that portal when your heart becomes stilled
So don’t waste your life bowing and praying
Be just like a child, laughing and playing
And always be ready to meet your demise
Taking it steady, look right in his eyes
Smile in his face and offer no rage
Then take your bow, and just leave the stage.
Aye he’ll be missed, But will be avenged, when we blow up Doctor Who!
