First Foot
Two small brown pennies were thrust in his hand,
Some bread, and a lump of coal,
Our Mam had added a sprinkle of salt
‘For luck, ’ she said, and his soul.
‘The Devil is waiting for you out there, ’
She laughed, and shivered for real,
‘You have to be gone when the clock strikes twelve! ’
She let out a little squeal!
It was ninety-nine; it was New Year’s Eve,
Victoria sat on the throne,
Our house a terrace on Coal-Pit Street,
It was cold and damp, but home.
Our Da had gone as the miners go
Under a fall of coal,
His body was left where it fell that day
They closed off the tunnel wall.
He left a couple of likely lads
That’s Joe, and me, right here,
But Joe was the eldest, quite thirteen,
And he with the blackest hair,
The bevy of girls just giggled that night
First foot was always a man,
(It was in the Wales that we knew back then
When the nightmare first began!)
We pushed him out when the clock began
To strike the midnight hour,
The last of the eighteen hundreds, and
We slammed the wooden door,
A lightning bolt gave a mighty flash,
The rain turned into hail,
While the clock, it chimed the first of six
Behind the mantle rail.
The thunder rumbled overhead
It brought us to our knees,
The girls cried out to their mother then,
But she cried out to me,
The door exploded in splinter-shards
A lightning hit, outside,
I rushed through the shattered opening…
Thinking that Joe had died!
The kerb was black and burnt, and all
The street lamps, they were out,
Pieces of tile and chimney pot
Were scattered, round and about,
But Joe, there was no sign of him,
No coins, no bread, no coal,
It was almost as if the Devil came
And swallowed my brother whole!
The police came round the following day
And said: ‘It’s very strange!
Maybe you scared your brother,
Maybe he upped and ran away? ’
For weeks we searched the neighbourhood
Our Mam, she went quite mad,
Hanging on coats of strangers;
She was locked away, it’s sad! ’
That was the last First Foot for me
I’d never answer the door,
If anyone knocked at midnight
I would yell: ‘What you knockin’ for? ’
My kids were told, ‘don’t answer it,
The Devil’s in the wind! ’
And I’d wonder about poor Joseph,
Was he sinner, or was he sinned?
In the old year,1949
A New Year came again,
Full fifty years since my brother Joe
Went missing in the rain,
My kids were grown, were rowdy
And sat up, most playing games,
When a knock at the door at midnight
Came in the midst of ‘Auld Lang Syne.’
My lad, Evan, had answered it
Before he thought, he said,
A lad was on the kerb, with coins and coal,
Some mouldy bread!
‘He had some madness look in his eye,
Stood underneath the light,
I would have let him come in, first foot,
Except that his hair was white! ’
David Lewis Paget
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Black Gold
The Dad was dour, his face was sour
When he came home from the pit,
He looked like a furnace stoker but
That wasn't the half of it…
His fists were like a couple of hams
And he used the blighters, too,
The Mam would hear his foot on the step
And hurry to serve his stew.
She wore his bruises over her face,
Her arms and her legs and more,
I'd seen her body all over then
For I was coming-up four,
I'd watched the blood run down her leg
As she cleaned herself with a rag,
Whenever he'd come home roaring drunk,
Use Mam as a punching bag!
My sister Else was barely ten
When he made her work at the pit,
She struggled to push a cart of coal
Until she was almost sick.
The manager was a brutal man
With a knotted, leather strap,
If Else was slow or got vertigo
He'd lay it across her back!
I never heard Mam complain to him,
I guess that she didn't dare,
She'd rub some cream into Else's wounds
And run a brush through her hair.
‘It's hard, but you'll toughen up, my girl,
He said, as a sort of scold,
‘You'd better respect what we're mining here,
Just think of it as Black Gold! '
‘Think of it as Black Gold, ' he'd said…
(The sort that gets into your pores,
The dust that gives you a crippled lung
And your skin gets covered in sores.
The cough that's keeping the house awake
When everyone needs to sleep,
The sulphur smell round the chimney-piece
As you watch your mother weep!)
He dragged me out, and he took me in
When I was only eight,
He said, ‘Now look here, fella-me-lad,
It's time that you pulled your weight! '
They started me at tuppence a day
And sat me down in the shaft,
I had to open and close a trap
To help to create the draught.
The hours were long, the days were long
We worked a twelve hour shift,
It took me an hour to get to the face,
Clambering over the drift,
I didn't get time to go to school,
Still sign my name with an ‘x',
But I'm learning now at the Institute
Just to try for a little respect!
When I was ten, they sent me down
With a pick to the old coal face,
Where miners hammered and banged like hell
And they tried to make me race,
Poor Else, still pushing the trucks of coal,
Her back had formed in a hump,
The boys would whistle and jeer at her
For her legs were like two stumps.
New-fangled ships were coming in,
The ones of steel and steam,
‘It's only good for the working man, '
The Dad said: ‘Good for the team! '
But some of the stopes were caving in
The mine was in full retreat,
We'd pull what pillars of coal were left
And send them up to the street.
The Dad was working the furthest pitch
While Else sat crippled and old,
She'd ripped a tendon and looked quite lost
As she sat by a pillar of coal,
She waved me away to the further stope
And attacked the coal with a pick,
The pillar came suddenly crashing down
And the roof - it followed it!
I never saw Mam cry for The Dad,
She cried for our Else instead,
‘She never had much of a life at all,
I'm glad the old bugger's dead! '
Now the years have passed, and I understand
That The Dad was true to his kind,
He never had much of a chance at all
And he's buried, still in the mine!
18 June 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Guinevere
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, if youre kind
She loves a young man and he lives in the town
He leaves the house early for he works underground
He makes a good wage for a coal miners son
And shes a bit pretty, just turned twenty-one
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, shut the blind
She knows her good mothers not feelin no pain
She remembers an explosion and the black falling rain
She paints her thin lips in her dewy-eyed way
Then she says to the daughter, dear daughter I pray
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, if youre kind
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Guardian of the Pit
He'd worked at the pit since he was ten,
Was quite at home in the dark,
Worked by the light of a miner's lamp
Avoided the slightest spark,
He chipped away at the face of coal,
He chewed tobacco, and spat,
His face was black as he wandered home
With pride in his miner's hat.
But the mine had closed as it petered out
And the miners went on the dole,
While Jack Coltrane had fretted at home
For his work was his very soul,
The entrance tunnels were sealed up tight
And the Colliery wheel was stopped,
It sat like an aging dinosaur
Set high on its wooden props.
The miners drifted away for work
The walls of the houses cracked,
The doors and windows were boarded up
The only one left was Jack,
He wandered lonely about the streets
Of the place he had always known,
The empty terraces, vacant shops
In the town that he'd called his home.
I'd gone to squat in an empty house
I was down on my luck back then,
And Jack had knocked on my nailed up door,
I told him my name was Ben,
He'd pop around for a morning tea
And he'd tell me tales of the mine,
His eyes would gleam with excitement when
He talked of the dust and grime.
‘I'll take you there, and show you the pit.'
He knew I'd never been down,
‘What else is to do in a place like this, '
He said, and I must have frowned.
‘There's nothing to worry about, old son,
Just wrap up well for the cold,
It used to be hot in the workings then,
But we'll be looking for gold.'
He said he knew where the traces were,
He'd seen it a thousand times,
‘The owners only wanted the coal
So we left the rest behind,
There's not a lot, but enough for us,
We'll chip out a tidy sum.'
That's all I needed to know, I went
And put some old denims on.
The mine was scary for one like me
Who'd never been down a pit,
So dark and damp, and the air was still,
I hated the smell of it,
We need to go down 300 feet
He said, not batting an eye,
I trudged along in his wake, and thinking:
‘Why did I come - Oh why? '
We saw the first few traces of gold
At the thirty fathom mark,
But Jack said, ‘Still there's a way to go, '
And he trudged along in the dark,
We walked around the falls from the roof
Where the props had given way,
It was far too late to be turning back
Though I felt a mute dismay.
Suddenly there was a gleam ahead
Lit up by our feeble lamps,
And Jack had hurried ahead to check
What gleamed in the rising damp,
Behind a fall I could see a sight
That will haunt me ‘til I'm old,
A skeleton lay in the passageway,
A skeleton covered in gold.
‘He must have been here a hundred years, '
Said Jack, ‘and there is the proof,
The fall has only revealed him now
The gold has leached from the roof,
It's covered this poor old-timer's bones
He's worth more now that he's dead, '
But then the end of the tunnel glowed
And a voice boomed in my head.
‘Who desecrates my dominions,
Who approaches me in their pride?
You come to my underground kingdom
Where another before you died! '
The voice came up through a hole in the ground
That glowed like a fire was lit,
‘Retreat, or I'll tear you asunder,
I'm the Guardian of the Pit! '
I don't know how we got out that day
We stumbled and ran to hide,
We thought the demon was at our heels
As we caught at our breath, and cried,
We fell out into the open air
And breathed again at the last,
I said, ‘I'll never go down again! '
Jack said, ‘It must have been gas! '
‘It must have been just a pocket of gas
That we breathed, that knocked us out,
It was just a hallucination
That's for sure, ' said Jack, ‘No doubt! '
But he never went down the mine again,
He said he was 'over it',
But truth to tell, he was scared as hell
Of the Guardian of the Pit!
21 October 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Scavenging For Coal
At the back
of the coal wharf
you and Fay
picked up coal pieces
that fell through
the iron railings
and put them
in an old bag from home
Fay looked
at her blackened fingers
and said
if my daddy sees
these fingers
and finds out
what I've been doing
he'll spank me
for sure
you gazed at her
beside you
and said
you can wash your hands
at my place
she looked around
at the bombsite behind you
the evening sun
slowly going down
behind the railway bridge
and nearby buildings
what if someone sees you
she asked
picking up these pieces?
no one worries about this
all the kids do it
you replied
my daddy says
it is evil to steal
she said
you put a black piece
of coal in the bag
and lifted it
to feel the weight
that's enough
you said
too much
and I won't be able
to carry it
Fay stood up
and looked around
at the darkening sky
you held the bag
in one hand
and scanned
the area around you
let's go
you said
and so you both
walked away
from the coal wharf
into Meadow Row
by the public house
where piano music played
and down towards
the flats
where you lived
and after climbing
the concrete stairs
to your landing
you opened the door
and put the bag
by the indoor
coal bunker
and showed Fay
where to wash her hands
turning on
the cold water tap
you both washed
your hands
with the red
Life Buoy soap
her hands near yours
her wet flesh
touching yours
the black water
running away
and another adventure
and another day.
poem by Terry Collett
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Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wry!
'Now girls, you finish your rye and milk, '
Tituba said, the slave,
The girls had clattered around the house,
'You girls, you'd better behave! '
She'd laid the table with cheese on rye,
With tumblers full of milk,
'Now eat your bread like your father said,
Or the devil will make you sick! '
The winter weather was cold that year,
The crops were brought in damp,
The miller muttered but said no more,
He ground by the midnight lamp,
The baker quibbled him over the price,
They knew that it wasn't dry,
But a wink and a nod to the Money God
Said, '...use the tainted rye! '
The girls began to suffer fits,
They'd crawl around on the floor,
They frightened Tituba the slave to bits
With the blasphemies they swore,
They screamed, began to hallucinate
Saw spectres in the air,
'It's Sarah Good in a witch's hood, '
They screamed, 'but she's not there! '
Tituba baked up a witch's cake
Then fed the cake to a dog,
It leapt and staggered and threw it up
Then lay like a drunken log,
The girls would mutter of witchlike shapes
That flew in the winter mist,
Then fell to the floor by the kitchen door,
Convulsed, in a series of fits!
Tituba, she was arrested there
Along with two likely crones,
They searched for the witch's marks on them
On the poor old women's bones,
A taste of the Reverend Parris's whip
Saw his old slave confess,
That she'd met a hog, or a giant dog
And the Devil had done the rest.
The girls convulsed, and named the names
Of a score of women there,
They'd all been seen in their fevered dreams
Or as spectres, in the air,
The Judges took no time to Judge,
But signed each new decree,
And a strange new fruit was seen to shoot
From the boughs of the gallows tree.
Even the Reverend Burroughs fell
Accused by the lips of spite,
A man of God, he had served them well,
But couldn't defend his plight,
He stood and recited the Lord, his Prayer,
Impossible for a witch,
But they strung him up, regardless then,
And buried him in a ditch!
It took the words of a four year old
To seal her mother's fate,
They fed on the word 'hysteria'
Until all they knew was hate,
And one old man who refused to plead
Was pressed to death by stones,
While down at the mill, the race ran still
As the miller ground their bones!
'It's a wry old thing, ' the miller said
As the death cart passed his mill,
And the baker stopped for a friendly pipe
By the mill-run water wheel,
'But the rye is free of ergot now
It's dry, and the wind blows free,
Swinging the last eight witches there
Under the gallows tree! '
6 November 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trick or treat?
It's that time of the year again
when things go bump in the night
when children wander the streets
trying hard to give us a fright.
Wearing long black coats
and witches hat's upon their head
they dress up like scary monsters
and zombies who've risen from the dead.
But last year was a spooky Halloween
when at midnight I heard scratching at my door
nervously I opened it to see who was there
it was a Werewolf blood dripping from it's jaw.
I laughed and said that's a really good disguise
but fancy calling round so late at night
the Werewolf then let out a mighty roar
and grabbed my neck and gave it a bite.
This hideous thing wasn't a child after all
and it then just vanished into thin air
since that night I've never been the same
I bark at the Moon, have claws and long hair.
So let this be a warning to you all
as you don't know what lurks in your street
just be careful before opening your door
on this years Halloween and trick or treat!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Identity of Images (Identité des images)
I am fighting furiously with animals and bottles
In a short time perhaps ten hours have passed one
after another
The beautiful swimmer who was afraid of coral wakes
this morning
Coral crowned with holly knocks on her door
Ah! coal again always coal
I conjure you coal tutelary genius of dreams and my
solitude let me let me speak again of the beautiful
swimmer who was afraid of coral
No longer tyrannize this seductive subject of my
dreams
The beautiful swimmer was reposing in a bed of lace
and birds
The clothes on a chair at the foot of the bed were
illuminated by gleams the last gleams of coal
The one that had come from the depths of the sky and
earth and sea was proud of its coral beak and great
wings of crape
All night long it had followed divergent funerals toward
suburban cemeteries
It had been to embassy balls marked white satin gowns with
its imprint a fern leaf
It had risen terribly before ships and the ships had not
returned
Now crouched in the chimney it was watching for the
waking of foam and singing of kettles
Its resounding step had disturbed the silence of nights
in streets with sonorous pavements
Sonorous coal coal master of dreams coal
Ah tell me where is that beautiful swimmer the swimmer
who was afraid of coral?
But the swimmer herself has gone back to sleep
And I remain face to face with the fire and shall remain
through the night interrogating the coal with wings of
darkness that persists in projecting on my monotonous
road the shadow of its smoke and the terrible
reflections of its embers
Sonorous coal coal pitiless coal
poem by Robert Desnos
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Rebel Yell
Last night a little dancer
Came dancin to my door
Last night a little angel
Came pumping on the floor
She said a come baby
Ive got a license for love
And if it expires
Pray help from above
Because
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
Owww
In the midnight hour, babe
More, more, more
With a rebel yell
More, more, more
More, more, more
She dont like slavery
She wont sit and beg
But when Im tired and lonely
She sees me to bed
What set you free
And brought you to me, babe
What set you free
I need you here by me
Because
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
Wowww
In the midnight hour, babe
More, more, more
With a rebel yell
More, more, more
He lives in his own heaven
Collects it to go from the seven eleven
Well hes out all night to collect a fare
Just so long, just so long it dont mess up his hair
Oww ha
I walk the ward for you, babe
A thousand miles with you
I dried your tears of pain
A million times for you
Id sell my soul for you, babe
For money to burn for you
Id give you all and have none, babe
Just a, just a, just a, just a
To have you here by me
Because
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
Wowww
In the midnight hour, babe
More, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
More, more, more
Oo yeah, a little baby
She want more
More, more, more, more, more
Oo yeah, a little angel
She want more
More, more, more, more, more
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rebel Yell
In the midnight hour!!!
Last night my little dancer, came dancing to my door
Last night my little angel, came pumping on the floor
She said, oh come on baby! I got a license for love!
...and if it expires, pray help from above!!!..because,
In the midnight hour, she cried more! more! more!
With a rebel yell, she cried more! more! more!...wow!
In the midnight hour babe...more! more! more!
With a rebel yell! more! more! more!...more, more, more!
She dont like slavery...she wont sit and beg.
But when Im tired and lonely, she sees me to bed.
What set you free, and brought you to me, babe?
What set you free!? I need you here by me...because
In the midnight hour, she cried more! more! more!
With a rebel yell, she cried more! more! more!...wow!
In the midnight hour babe! more! more! more!
With a rebel yell...more! more! more!...more, more, more!
Ill walk the ward, for you babe...
A thousand miles for you...
Id dry your tears, of pain...
A million times, for you...
Id sell my soul, for you babe...
For money to burn, for you...
Id give you all...and have none babe!
Justa...justa...justa...justa, to have you here by me! because
In the midnight hour, she cried more! more! more!
With a rebel yell, she cried more! more! more!...wow!
In the midnight hour babe! more! more! more!
With a rebel yell! she cried, more! more! more!...more, more, more!
Oh yeah, little baby!
She wants more!
More! more! more! more! more!
Oh yeah, little angel!
She wants more!
More! more! more! more! more!
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Dream...
'What has become of my life, ' he said
To the clock on the kitchen wall,
But the hands stood still at 20 to 4,
The clock didn't know at all!
He turned to the mirror that mocked him there
Each time that he walked on past,
And searched for a sign in the pits and lines
Of the stranger who peered from the glass.
'Where are the days of the youth I had
When I laughed and cried out loud?
Are they hidden away on a dark pathway
Where I walk with my shoulders bowed? '
'And where, oh where was the love I knew
As she tripped from the wishing well,
And the coins that we threw in the fountain there...'
- There are several kinds of hell!
The sand still spills from the hour glass
As he tries to find some meaning,
'Til he falls asleep by the mantelpiece
For the last dream, dreaming.
20 January 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Road
My aunt lives over there
you said
and Jimmy looked
over the back
of the coal truck
to where you were pointing
and said
we must be far
from home then
if that’s where she lives
and you looked over
at the apartments
wondering if your aunt
was home or not
and the coal guy said
best keep your heads down boys
don’t want people wondering
what the heck you’re doing
in the back of a coal truck
and so you and Jimmy
got underneath
the tarpaulin
and the driver pulled away
to deliver more coal
and Jimmy said
if my old girl
knew I was here
she’d hit the roof
or worse
and you said
well it’s been an adventure
it got us out
of the block
and on the road
for a while
and when we get
back home
we best sneak
out of here
and hope to God
we ain’t covered
in that coal dust
all over out jeans
and tee-shirts and such
or we’ll be in for it
and outside
you could hear
the pitter patter of rain
on the tarpaulin
and imagined
you could hear
Jimmy’s mother’s
sharp angry voice
through the darkness calling.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Such A Rainy Day
such a rainy day
she comes to my door
knocking for help
for some comfort in the coldness of a rainy day
some winds too strong
dry leaves blown to the other side
some trees giving to a crack to a fall
she comes on such a rainy day
she is wet and so pitiful to look at
her clothes pasting to her frail body of
a woman deserted
her hair uncombed and blown and scattered
she stands by my door
my brother left her just an hour ago
she is wet, her hair, her body some rain still drips
how can i forget her?
my brother did not love her and he left her
she is crying and her tears drip on her cheeks on her body
how can i be so cruel for not telling her
i love her so,
but she leaves, she is crying and the rain starts pouring again
she is only looking for my brother who left her
how can i help her?
she never utters my name
in her heart, i do not exist.
she loves him, he left her,
i love her, she leaves me
the rain keeps on pouring and fate plays so well like a crazy child
on us
on a rain that comes unplanned, unasked, and goes away unnoticed.
i stand on this door.
i have to close it,
fate does it always better.
i am that crazy child playing in the rain, in my brain
i am wet, my thoughts dripping like rain,
like droplets and my tears,
i am glad, my tears are invisible.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brown Paper Bag
Brown paper bag
Squalid incomplete
slumped to the side of the street
Like unwanted sacks of garbage
She left her track her smell
And like the brown paper bag
She had travelled well
She had a whole world in her head
Her first love
The man she wed
And the drink and the smoke
And the four o clock bloke
That returned with a bottle in a brown paper bag
And better days before
When she had carried her first round fruit
When the brown paper bag was waxed new
And he carried his bride to the door
Then the four o clock bloke
Full of stale wine and stale smoke
With a bottle in a brown paper bag
How he called her a hag
And that first punch to the floor
And the brown paper bags fell by her side
Crumpled and stained
And the liquor cans and the four o clock man
Who never spoke
Left her broke
Bones shattered in pieces
Flesh bare to the wind
Body out on the street
Skin tanned dirt brown
Hair matted locks
And two brown paper bags tied with string to her feet
yvette m smith 11.2.09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Diamond Or A Coal?
A diamond or a coal?
A diamond, if you please:
Who cares about a clumsy coal
Beneath the summer trees?
A diamond or a coal?
A coal, sir, if you please:
One comes to care about the coal
What time the waters freeze.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fell Me In
Thanks to [email protected] for correcting these lyrics.
I was checking this girl next door
When her parents were out
She'd phone say hey boy, come on right around
So I knock at the door
You was standing with a bottle of red wine
Ready to pour
Dressed in long black satin laced to the floor
So I went in
Then we sat down start kissing caressing
Told me about jacuzzi sounded interesting
So we jumped right in
All calls diverted to answer phone
Please leave a message after the tone
I mean me and her and her parents were kinda cool
But they were the fine line between me and you
We were just doing things young people in love do
Parents trying to find out what we were up to
Saying why were you creepin round late last night
Why did I see two shadows
Moving in your bedroom light
Now you're dressed in black
When I left you were dressed in white
Can you fill me in
Calls diverted to answer phone
Red wine bottle half the contents gone
Midnight return jacuzzi turned on
Can you fill me in
Whenever the coast was clear
And she'd ask me to come out
I'd say hey girl, come on right around
So she knocked at the door
I was standing with the keys in my hand to the 4x4
Jumped in my ride, checking that nobody saw
The club we went in
We got down bounce bounce to the rhythm
Saw it was early morning
Thought we'd better be leaving
So I gave you my jacket for you to hold
Told you to wear it cuzz you felt cold
I mean me and her
We didn't mean to break the rules
I weren't trying to play
Your Mum and Dad for fools
We were just doing things young people in love do
Parents trying to find out what we were up to
Saying why can't you keep your promises no more
Say you'll be home by 12 come strolling in at 4
Out with the girls but leaving
With the boy next door
Can you fill me in
Wearing a jacket who's property
Said you'd been queuing for a taxi
But you left all your money on the tv
Can you fill me in
All they seem to do
Is be checking up on you--baby
Watching our every move
Think someday they might approve--maybe
Why were you creepin round late last night
Why did I see two shadows
Moving in your bedroom light
Now you're dressed in black
When I left you were dressed in white
Can you fill me in
Calls diverted to answer phone
Red wine bottle half the contents gone
Midnight return jacuzzi turned on
Can you fill me in...
song performed by by Craig David
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark As A Dungeon
Come and listen you fellows
So young and do fine
And seek not your fortune
In the dark, dreary mines
It will form as a habit
Seep in your soul
til the blood in your veins
Runs as black as the coal
Theres many a man
That Ive known in my day
Who lived just to labor
His whole life away
Like a fiend with his dope
And a drunkard his wine
A man will have lust for
The lure of the mine
Its dark as a dungeon
Damp as the dew
The danger is double
And the pleasures are few
Where the rain never falls
Where the sun never shines
Its dark as a dungeon
Way down in the mine
I hope when Im gone
And the ages shall roll
My body will blacken
And turn into coal
Then Ill look out the door
Of my heavenly home
And Ill pity the miners
A-diggin my bones
Its dark as a dungeon
Damp as the dew
The danger is double
And the pleasures are few
Where the rain never falls
Where the sun never shines
Its dark as a dungeon
Way down in the mine
Where the rain never falls
Where the sun never shines
Its dark as a dungeon
Way down in the mine
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Storm
The clouds turned to gray
The air turned to cold
And I knew by that day
Some evil would unfold.
It arrived without a warning
Along with the pounding rain
And it was gone by the morning
As violently as it came.
But for that night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
Violently came the wind
Terrorizing with no form
Then came the thunder and lightning,
Arriving, was the storm.
Many trees I saw bent
Then God clapped his mighty hand
While many trees were refusing to fall,
But then, a tree didn't stand.
Rushing came the wind
Pounding came the rain
Crashing came the thunder
Quickly, came my pain.
Underneath my bed I hid
From the terror of the storm
And in pain and terror I cried
In horror and pain I moaned.
That night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
And the rain just kept falling
More tears I began to weep
For the wind just kept calling,
Then that night; I fell asleep.
Then morning she finally came
I awoke to the sound of peace and birds
The sound of thunder and rain was gone
Which had awoke my sleeping world.
Then outside towards the sky I stared,
To the clouds God he did call
I saw Gods hand moving the wind
Commanding the rain not to fall.
Then the sun began to shine
So on my knees I fell to pray
Then again, I began to cry
Thanking God; the storm had went away.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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