On Hurricane Jackson
Now his nose’s bridge is broken, one eye
will not focus and the other is a stray;
trainers whisper in his mouth while one ear
listens to itself, clenched like a fist;
generally shadowboxing in a smoky room,
his mind hides like the aching boys
who lost a contest in the Panhellenic games
and had to take the back roads home,
but someone else, his perfect youth,
laureled in newsprint and dollar bills,
triumphs forever on the great white way
to the statistical Sparta of the champs.
poem by Alan Dugan
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Related quotes
A Town Called Big Nothing (Really Big Nothing)
Big nothing.
He stood in the road outside of town with a broken clockwork toy in
His hand: a graveyard for childish dreams in his palm; a broken lifeline.
Big nothing.
The mechanical amusement sputtered in his fist. as he clenched, it
Whirred and died again. it was a cowboy who drew his gun, but the
Pistol was welded to the holster by age and careless children, so it
Struggled and strained and it unwound his own spring.
Big nothing.
He didn't need tattoos to show where he had been and who he had loved. it
Was the same thing that men had cried for; that women had dyed their hair
For. the cellophane illusion of a starry sky stretched over an open sore.
Big nothing.
He thought about his lost daughter: the way her eyes would alight at the
Greedy circus barker's blackmail song; how he wanted to smash her skull
When she parroted back, 'tell mommy; tell poppy; you need this little
Dolly.'
Big nothing. (x2)
The smoky voice of the petaled girl woke him long enough. there was too
Much light in the room, so he unscrewed the bulb. she took him to bed like
An adopted dog.
Big nothing.
She lit sickly incense, as he tried to tell if the resemblance was pure
And coincidental. he unleashed his grip on the toy, all it meant to him,
And it wound down forever.
Big nothing.
He woke up in a sweat. the next day, with her smile still painted on his
Mouth, he walked out of a town called big nothing.
Big nothing. (repeat until fade)
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Town Called Big Nothing
Big nothing.
He stood in the road outside of town with a broken clockwork toy in
His hand: a graveyard for childish dreams in his palm; a broken lifeline.
Big nothing.
The mechanical amusement sputtered in his fist. as he clenched, it
Whirred and died again. it was a cowboy who drew his gun, but the
Pistol was welded to the holster by age and careless children, so it
Struggled and strained and it unwound his own spring.
Big nothing.
He didnt need tattoos to show where he had been and who he had loved. it
Was the same thing that men had cried for; that women had dyed their hair
For. the cellophane illusion of a starry sky stretched over an open sore.
Big nothing.
He thought about his lost daughter: the way her eyes would alight at the
Greedy circus barkers blackmail song; how he wanted to smash her skull
When she parroted back, tell mommy; tell poppy; you need this little
Dolly.
Big nothing. (x2)
The smoky voice of the petaled girl woke him long enough. there was too
Much light in the room, so he unscrewed the bulb. she took him to bed like
An adopted dog.
Big nothing.
She lit sickly incense, as he tried to tell if the resemblance was pure
And coincidental. he unleashed his grip on the toy, all it meant to him,
And it wound down forever.
Big nothing.
He woke up in a sweat. the next day, with her smile still painted on his
Mouth, he walked out of a town called big nothing.
Big nothing. (repeat until fade)
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animal Kingdom
I've got this great kid who just loves all animals,
Cats, rabbits, dogs and ducks;
She wants to bring everything home
And it's getting rather tough -
If I'd let her
And she had her way,
She'd take in every wild critter
And each lost stray -
I'm running out of
Room and money,
Trying to house and feed
Ducks and bunnies -
I love my child dearly
And don't mean to complain,
But something's got to give
Before the whole farm goes down the drain!
I can't tell anymore
Who is running the place,
Us humans
Or those darn animals, for Pete's sake!
Plus my daughter's getting older now
And busier all the time,
So, it's dear old dad
Who's generally left with those critters to mind -
Looks like I'll just have to put my foot down
And let them all know,
In this little animal-kingdom
It is me who's King of the whole show!
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Treasure
Im coming in, got the wood stove on
At the end of a treasured day
Take off my hat and shoes
And I lay me down
Lives been lost and fortunes won
A test of the will to survive
See where the shadow falls
And you stake your claim
Chorus
I dream of trees and roads
I roam across the hills
The sky is big, the deepest blue,
The clouds like smoky trains
News coming in , goes nation wide
Not a grain of truth to be heard
Lie to an ancient tribe, in their mother tongue
Wreaking havoc and wrecking lives
Like a ball and chain to the skull
Rise see the eagle fly
Spirit cant be broken
I dream of trees and roads
I roam across the hills
The sky is big, the deepest blue,
The clouds like smoky trains
Bridge
I dream of trees and roads
I roam across the hills
The sky is big, the deepest blue,
The clouds like smoky trains
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Boy's
Urban concrete jungle
In the twilight hours
This is where the lost boys are.
Kaleidoscope eyes,
Discordant vowels
These are the marks the lost boys make.
Electronic beats,
Songs of angst
These are the sounds the lost boys need.
Sad panda eyes,
Downward faces
The war paint of the lost boys.
Drum boogie,
Anti fashion,
This is what the lost boys wear.
Rejected by society,
Reminders of youth since lost
This is who the lost boys are.
Two o'clock shadows
Artificial mist provides cover
As the lost boys slip home.
On the dance floor,
By the bar
This is where the lost boys are.
poem by Amos Greig
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The Perfect Playmate
Roger Charles Noel Bellingham. Before Ypres, March 4th, 1915
The Perfect Playmate, whither does he stray
That now no more his feet come up this way
That rang so blithe upon the nursery floor?
Wild games and laughter! Now the little son
Listens and longs, and his small world's undone.
The Perfect Playmate will return no more.
Who else made holidays of rainy days?
Who told such marvels by the firelight blaze?
King of misrule when Christmas frosts were hoar.
But now the black-gowned mother's tears will flow
Whether her little son be good or no.
The Perfect Playmate will return no more.
Who built the sands, dug deep, was never loth
Nor ever tired: was strong enough for both:
Home on his shoulders a small drowsy head bore;
Was ever smiling. The boy keeps apart
A gay young smiling father in his heart.
The Perfect Playmate will return no more!
No more, no more! Himself a boy he goes
Beyond the uttermost peaks, the eternal snows:
Light on his young brown head from an open door.
His youth unwithered, smiling all the way,
Into the land of youth, the Spring of Day.
The Perfect Playmate will return no more.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Day After Day
She lives in a house
That reflects her state of mind,mind
Organised chaos
In this labyrinth she hides,hides
She got locked up years ago
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper
Whisper and whisper
And day after day
Marinated in wine and tobacco
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper and
Day after day
After day
Pink fluffy dinosaurs
Are almost back in town,town
Pulling all the strings
That will finally bring her down,down
She got locked up years ago
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper
Whisper and whisper
And day after day
Marinated in wine and tobacco
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper and
Day after day
After day
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Great White Hope
Putting myself back in the game.
for its time for change.
Love in my heart is dead.
and i need to feel it again.
i need to know
i have a friend under the shadow in which i walk.
For I'm walking the walk of broken dreams.
cut and torn up, but know something great is coming.
or maybe that's the great white hope i believe in.
well wishing is here, throw your coin in.
Oh tell me what you wished for?
was it for a cure, was it for the perfect happiness,
was it for the end of all wars? oh just what was it for,
mine was for love. some search their entire lives and never find it.
i already had and lost it in one feel swoop.
Its gone forever part past.
A mistake, that still causes my heart to constantly ache.
I'm a dreamer, I'm a redeemer,
i will reclaim it even if not the same.
No such thing as second chances.
and for this I've never gave it a second.
goodby is forever. i broke her heart now shes gone.
she broke mine and now I'm gone.
two separate roads that weave and
turn but i don't expect well run into each other.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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175
Gulped from the fist by the mouth
engulfed by the gut
spilled to the, tasting blood
the heart clenched it fist, while the crony brain
lit up like a fishing village.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Focus
focus
focus on god
focus on freedom
focus on forgiveness
focus on sweet speech
focus on treasures
focus on humility
focus on commitment
focus on mind
focus on success
focus on health
focus on healthy transformation
focus on goodness
focus on laughter
focus on fun
focus on angel
focus on sweetness
focus on wealth
focus
poem by Johnny Walks
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Girls & Boys
Lying in bed, touching my skin
Oh God I wish you weren't sleeping
I long for your lips, to kiss me again
Don't you know my body's aching?
(Breathe)
Seems we always have a little price to pay,
Price to pay, I'm Falling in love
It all starts, starts to fade
Bad girls, and bad little boys
Won't last forever
But Good girls, and good little boys
Will make love together
I look at your face, As I lie awake
My body's slowly moving closer
My hand on your leg
My mouth on its way
Oh baby, I'll just turn you over
Seems we always have a little price to pay,
Price to pay, (uh) I'm Falling in love
It all starts, starts to ache
Bad girls, and bad little boys
Won't last forever
But Good girls, and good little boys (boys)
Will make love together...
Love together, love together,
Love together, love together,
Love together...
Do you like this? I like this
I want you alright
Do you wanna touch me?
I like this
Can you handle this?
I like this
We're gonna slow it down,
Just a little bit
I'm lying in bed, touching my skin
I just can't take it baby
Open your eyes, whisper to me..
Do it again, do it again
Bad girls, and bad little boys
Won't last forever
But Good girls, and good little boys (boys)
Will make love together
Bad girls, and bad little boys
Won't last forever
But Good girls, and good little boys (boys)
Will make love together
Love together, love together,
Love together...
That's good, do you like this?
Yeah, gonna slow it down
We'll make love together
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Shadow, For Dust!
the old woman,
face bruised and wrinkled,
clothes dirty and worn...
lies alone in the bed,
except for the cat...
shadows whisper, she moans,
as if closing a book.
even the hungry walls are silent...
the pages of the book
tattered and yellowed.
her teeth broken or gone,
her fist clenched tight,
the comfort of no one,
the prayer to no god.
the clock on the wall ticks amen...
her spirit taken, her fist opened,
a bag of trash falls in the corner,
the old cat runs for shadow,
for dust...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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On Being in Boxes
Hard walled and
White
ON GUARD against
errant beams of light,
my cubicle is
half my home
but at night.
Memo to Self,
in Memorandum
a small death everyday
to be slave in return for pay
work, ALL work
and no play.
and all the dull boys
Jacks on their hills
work and work to pay the bills
to buy all the right toys
hope to play with the big boys.
and I sit quiet
in a box
I make no noise.
'shhhhhhhhhh'
my machines
hum and whisper
they say 'don't worry sister...
you won't go far'.
poem by Virginie Guillemette
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A Broken Child
A broken child hides at night.
A broken child cries in fright.
A broken child hides the bruise.
A broken child is pushed and refused.
A broken child always with heartache.
A broken child who cannot fake.
A broken child who has no treasure.
A broken child used for sinful pleasure.
A broken child is so scared.
A broken child has no faith to bare.
A broken child lost in dispair.
I am the broken child, the one that no one cares.
poem by Haley Brown
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When the Boys Come Home
There's a happy time coming,
When the boys come home.
There's a glorious day coming,
When the boys come home.
We will end the dreadful story
Of this treason dark and gory
In a sunburst of glory,
When the boys come home.
The day will seem brighter
When the boys come home,
For our hearts will be lighter
When the boys come home.
Wives and sweethearts will press them
In their arms and caress them,
And pray God to bless them,
When the boys come home.
The thinned ranks will be proudest
When the boys come home,
And their cheer will ring the loudest
When the boys come home.
The full ranks will be shattered,
And the bright arms will be battered,
And the battle-standards tattered,
When the boys come home.
Their bayonets may be rusty,
When the boys come home,
And their uniforms dusty,
When the boys come home.
But all shall see the traces
Of battle's royal graces,
In the brown and bearded faces,
When the boys come home.
Our love shall go to meet them,
When the boys come home,
To bless them and to greet them,
When the boys come home;
And the fame of their endeavor
Time and change shall not dissever
From the nation's heart forever,
When the boys come home.
Helping Me Get Over You
(Featuring Lari White)
(Travis Tritt/Lari White)
You ask who's lying in my bed
Is it really love we're making
My heart's hanging by a thread
She's the only reason it ain't breaking
Do you ever cross my mind
Darling fact is you still do
That's the reason she is here
Wiping your old memory clear
She's helping me get over you
Helping me get over you
One kiss at a time
'Cause all the pain that we've been through
Still weighs so heavy on my mind
Getting past the love we lost
That's a lonely bridge to cross
So I did what I had to do
I had to find somebody new
Who's helping me get over you
I know you'd never ask his name
But in your heart I know you wonder
I'm not much good at playing games
I'm just trying to keep from going under
There's no forever in his eyes
It's not the love that we once knew
Oh and it might be a sin
But tonight I've got a friend
Helping me get over you
Helping me get over you
One kiss at a time
'Cause all the pain that we've been through
Still weighs so heavy on my mind
Getting past the love we lost
That's a lonely bridge to cross
So I did what I had to do
I had to find somebody new
Who's helping me get over you
Oh I did the best that I could do
I had to find somebody new
To help me get over you
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In 200 B.C.
"Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians--"
We can very well imagine
that they were utterly indifferent in Sparta
to this inscription. "Except the Lacedaemonians",
but naturally. The Spartans were not
to be led and ordered about
as precious servants. Besides
a panhellenic campaign without
a Spartan king as a leader
would not have appeared very important.
O, of course "except the Lacedaemonians."
This too is a stand. Understandable.
Thus, except the Lacedaemonians at Granicus;
and then at Issus; and in the final
battle, where the formidable army was swept away
that the Persians had massed at Arbela:
which had set out from Arbela for victory, and was swept away.
And out of the remarkable panhellenic campaign,
victorious, brilliant,
celebrated, glorious
as no other had ever been glorified,
the incomparable: we emerged;
a great new Greek world.
We; the Alexandrians, the Antiocheans,
the Seleucians, and the numerous
rest of the Greeks of Egypt and Syria,
and of Media, and Persia, and the many others.
With our extensive territories,
with the varied action of thoughtful adaptations.
And the Common Greek Language
we carried to the heart of Bactria, to the Indians.
As if we were to talk of Lacedaemonians now!
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Blockhouses had been erected right over the country
Blockhouses had been erected right over the country,
farms had been entered and burnt to the ground,
Livestock and animals had been slaughtered
and women and children were rounded up
and interned into death camps.
Young boys
were set against white walls
and firing squads
was set against them
and a super power
clenched its fist around this country
and stood gigantic
against every Boer farmer.
l’Envoi
That time will be forever black
in history
with the misdeeds of the British
that is well known
and the ruination of a nation, arousing from it
where women and children perished as targets
at the commands of Horatio Herbert Kitchener.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Rock Me Gently
Past five in the morning
Feeling worse for the weather it seems
But what a feeling
What an endless night this has been
And we cant stay here
cause we wont be forever young
Well have to go down
Before innocence is lost
And I dream youre with me
You hold me sweetly
And rock me gently to sleep
In you arms
Woah woah
Ive been getting used to all the crying
And the
Games that you play
And if I carry on Im gonna end up with a
Hole in my head
And theres more to life
Than thrills & spills & dollar bills
Well have to get through
Some way & some how
I dream, youre with me...etc
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond The Daylight Reaches
Beyond the daylight reaches,
near the back roads of the mind.
Love lies waiting there
for some lucky person,
to pluck it from the air.
Memories of old loves
linger somewhere back there,
waiting to be rekindled,
like a dying candle flame.
Beyond the daylight reaches,
near the back roads of the mind.
The world’s great treasure
waits for someone to find.
The treasure of love,
one that will last forever.
The dream without ending,
all seek, but very few
ever get there to find.
A few will take the trouble,
and keep the desire warm
at the upper most of the mind.
Travelling down this dangerous road
that stretched out beyond the daylight reaches,
near the backs roads of the mind.
Seeking the ultimate prize,
they could ever hope to find.
29 October 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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