S.o.s.
(They found her body right under the stairs
Where it had lain for twenty years,
The neck was broken, I heard folks say -
'Too late! ' was the verdict of Gallows Bay) .
* * * *
I'd heard dark things of Samuel Pell,
He drank too much and was far from well,
But he walked the beach in the early morn,
Especially after a gale, or storm.
He checked the flotsam as in it swirled
Into the bay from the seas of the world,
All the jetsam he'd pile up high,
And check each mark, with many a sigh.
But never a word did I hear him speak
From the crack of dawn to the end of the week,
And then he'd hurry on home once more
Where he'd bar his window and lock his door.
He lived in a three-roomed beachside shack
With a lookout room that he'd built out back,
And up to that room he would creep at nights,
With the curtains drawn, you could still see lights.
Red lights, yellow, and some were green
They'd blink and change with a squeal, a scream,
And over all was a dreadful hum
As the world swirled through his solarium.
Towering over the roof, at last
Was a big, old fashioned radio mast,
And folks would grumble in Gallows Bay
'Old Pell's up talking to Mandalay.'
The folks who knew him from times before
Would shake their heads, but would say no more,
For everyone knew that his only son
Was lost at sea when the war was on.
And Pell had been on the Ham that day,
An S.O.S. from a world away
Came tumbling over the ocean's swell
From His Majesty's Ship, the 'Camberwell.'
So Pell had alerted the Naval Base
As the tears streamed over his cheeks, his face,
His fingers flew on the dit-dit-dit
'Til his fingers bled, and his eyes were lit.
But somewhere, in the Atlantic swell
The bow went down of the 'Camberwell',
She slid so silently into the deep,
Carried his son to eternal sleep.
Carried him down with the ship, distressed
Where a sailor's duties are put to rest,
While Pell sat there with his headphones on
His wife had cursed him to hell and beyond.
And then she'd gone, one lonely night
Had left the bay and the daily fight,
Just walked, he'd said, with never a word
Though whether she had, he wouldn't have heard.
For twenty years he'd listened first
To the chatter of Morse at a hundred Hertz,
Then clattered his key to the whole world round:
'Has HMS Camberwell ever been found? '
I watched him, suddenly old and grey
As he walked the beach in his aimless way,
And heard them talk in the old Bar One's,
'I'm hearing that Pell has Parkinson's! '
He stiffened up, and he slowed his walk,
His shoulders hunched, and he couldn't talk,
He beckoned, come to his room up there,
He needed help just to climb the stair.
His hands were trembling on the key,
I knew Morse Code as well as he,
His fingers trembled, he made mistakes
With the dits and dahs, and the sentence breaks.
But in his eyes was the strangest light
Like a man who's suddenly proven right,
He handed over the headphones then
And smiled at me like an old, old friend.
I heard the chatter repeat, and then
Begin the message all over again,
It said: 'Keep listening here, it's true,
For soon I'm coming on home for you! '
The Morse was echoing in and out
Like a message sent from a waterspout,
It waxed and waned, and said: 'It's true!
Old man... I'm coming on home for you! '
He took the headphones, took the key
Was calm at first, more calm than me,
Then tapped a message I could not guess,
Old Pell was tapping an S.O.S.
For then a sound like I'd never heard,
Such beating, just like the wings of a bird,
Old Pell fell back on the old arm rest,
His heart was beating right out of his chest.
His heart was beating, his fingers tapped,
The dits and dahs, they flew, he rapped,
But coming over the headphone swell,
The message was signed - 'HMS Hell! '
He groaned, stared right in my eyes, in fright
His jaw had dropped and his face was white,
He died, and I thought that his soul was free
Though his fingers kept tapping the paddle key.
The paddle key, still tapped in my head,
For minutes then after Pell was dead,
And still I heard - and this I must stress -
The key kept tapping out S.O.S.
9 October 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pellmell Morning
Woke up with the crow
Crow flew away uncaged
A pell-mell morning, know not how
Like that crow to fly freed
Pell-mell chores, pell-mell errands
Bound and bowed to the pell-mell duties
Pell-mell rise, pell-mell bath, pell-mell pooja
Pell-mell cooking break-fasting on grumbles others'
Running faster after the sun
Soused in sweat a hurry-burry fun
Pell-mell hubbub to school and office wishing
Doubled my eyes and limbs added on my back
Awaiting attention my in-laws
Pain in the neck, poking in or breaking away
My significant maidservant
Very much purposely the dying gas cylinder
More ruthlessly the electricity cut off
Mixie, grinder, microwave, all reposing
Pell-mell jiggles, pell-mell morning, agree?
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pell grants are the foundation of Federal student aid. As someone who attended college with the help of Pell grants and as chairman of the Pell Grant Caucus, I know how important they are for our Nation's low-income students.
quote by Ric Keller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost In Wal-Mart
So... I was in one of those Wal-mart Super Stores
Just the other day
When in the middle of the hallway
I felt someone grab my fingers tight
I looked and there she was... a little child holding
With all her might
I saw her eyes big and brown
Somehow she pulled me to the ground
Now..what was a man...big as me suppose to do
So... I said... child... Can I help you..?
As she looked at me with big brown eyes
Her beauty and sadness... almost caused a great flood
And with her voice ready to cry
She ask... If'n...I'd seen her mommy?
Now has anybody ever had their heart fallout of their soul...?
Mine did... And I couldn't help but notice
Her knees.. Shaking... Like she was at the North Pole.
Now you... and me... and everyone knows...
Children aren't to talk to strangers...
Because we've all heard... how great... and terrible those..dangers!
But she still had hold...of my fingers
Well... at that same time I felt.. heard a voice in my head
Don't move.... this is where I should.. need.. to stand
I did... But I still raised up my left hand
Because.. I didn't... know what to do?
I felt like that child... back in first grade school!
So... I spoke with my voice really loud.
I said...this child's mommy is lost... (you see)
I have always been able to see when love needed my help!
But this time... I had never known how helpless..I felt!
I said...please..someone.. call the M.O.D.
Short for Manager on Duty.
Help me... Find the mommy of this little cutie
Well in a few moments through that crowd of people
This women... M.O.D. appeared
She knelt down and said..Oh.. Oh...you're such a little dear...
Held out her hands..said sweetie come-mere
Yet.. I knew what this child was thinking... because
She now clung to me
Her arm went tight.. around my knee
And in her fist part of my jean's
I felt heard again that gentlest of a voice
I know you can you feel... her fear.....
So I want you... to just stand here....
Well I let my left hand rest gently...on her little head
I felt the trembling...and some how it cut my soul....
(because I felt those greatest of dreads)
So there we were twenty... thirty minutes... maybe a little more..
Then that voice ok look to the left
And from a hundred yards I saw her and the plant nursey room door
and heard that one's the mom....!
And even from that distance
I knew my thoughts were right
She looked like she'd seen a ghost
Face Pale.... I reconized her... pure.. It was Snow..White..
So I raised that child up to my shoulder
That had clung so tight to my knee...Shouted... Hey Lady... Over here..
I can't describe her relief... nor her tears...
But..I'll never forget them...or her...for the rest of my years...
Because as she came close... I cleary heard...Thank..You..God...!
As she fell with that child in her arms...knee's hitting the floor..
She begged for mercy... forgivness...
From the child, from God... I was'nt quite shore?
Well Ok.. I finally decided it was safe for me.. I turned to leave
And there again.. she was wrapped around my knee
This time love forced me to the ground
All the while that mommy's great tears.. rained down
I glanced briefly at the face.. of that girl women that still cried
And then I said Child... Is this your mom?
With a smile and nod... said my name is Dawnn..
She showed me a bruise on her elbow
That had been caused by her cat... his name was Heck
Then she smiled and embaced my neck
Suddenly I was there outside my heart
My own tears began to start............... well
When I was able I a-rose.. that mom started to explain
Mention husband...Iraq... two years... and a plane
In her haste had thought Grandma had
Her in her car
That she had to go... airport...late and so far
Tell her don't speed the plane will be late
I did what I was told... and ask if'n.. I... could hold Dawnn
Because she needed to call her own mom...
On the phone... Yes.. Yes... Mom I have her.. she's safe...
What..what.. The plane is late... How do you know that?
She then said mom... I need to call you back
Putting her cell phone down
She stared at me with eyes big and round
Then I smiled at Dawnn.. and put my head down
She said it's been so hard.. these last two years
And again she said, Thank You God....through some more tears
She stepped closer... and almost whisperd.. so I could barley hear
She said...I ask God to have someone he trusted
Guard my daughter until I got there
She cried and still stared
I put love and little Dawnn back on the ground
I tired to mumble something... but couldn't hardly make a sound
So I said good by to Dawn and take good care of Heck
Then that women child said thank you Clyde
And... with her free arm pert near broke my neck
She stilled cried a little... guess.. I did the same
Surprised that she knew my name
She said God Loves you u-know
And I have to go
As she backed up... she added
I'll name my first son....
After the man that can see far....
May God bless you where-ere you go... or are....
So I wrote this poem about a little girl and her mom Lost in Wal-mart.
I admit I was confussed as to why this little girl came to me and ask me to help her find her mom.But what was I to do, I could only stand there
and try to do what I felt was the correct thing.
It was easy to see that young women that came running into that
store was lost and scared. I don't claim anything but it was strange to have this little girl refuse help from so many of the other's that were there. Yet I obeyed the thoughts that kept coming into my soul. I'm not sure if it was the right thing to do. I just did what I thought came into my mind. It was like I was thinking with and unused portion of my heart, if that was possible.. the end
poem by Clyde Bryson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Uneasy Sleep
The lightning flashed outside the window
the thunder clapped shaking everything
I had the eerie feeling of something watching me.
The lightning forced shadows to dance around the room,
as I got ready to pull the covers over my head,
my eyes searched for movement
of which I was unaware of
my heart pounded against my chest
as the storm raged without abate.
There was a tapping at the window;
I was not brave enough to look
to see if it was a branch or a face wanting me.
I slipped under the covers
going down as far as I could go,
something moved around the floor,
the creaks and thumps told me so.
I wanted to pull the covers back
and have a little peek,
but I thought better of it and tried to go to sleep.
I heard the door yawn and the hinges creak
the ghost of old McNair must be coming
for me when I fell asleep.
I heard more movements
and voices whispering low
and my heart-started pound more.
I laid silent and still hoping
that whatever it was
wouldn’t think I was in bed.
Something sat on the edge of the bed;
it was coming to get me for sure.
Then something poked around
to see if I was there.
I could feel it getting closer and closer,
I held my breath tying mot to scream,
and then it touched me and I let out a yell.
I threw back to the covers
and the room was bathed in soft warm candlelight.
The lightning outside still flashed,
a pair of smiling faces looked down at me.
I looked up at them want to know
just what was going on.
“I think the fever has broken now.
He should be a lot better in the, morning.
My advice is that you stay with him a while,
at least until he falls asleep.”
My mother nodded, and then smiled at me.
“Now you just lie down again
and try and get some sleep.
I’ll be sitting here in case you need me.”
I rested back against the pillow;
my fears were now at rest.
I closed my eyes
and sleep captured me immediately.
30 January 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Must Have Been Sleeping
'Where are you going, ' I heard her say
As the dream took me straight to the core,
We parked at the side of a very long road
And I got out the driver's door;
'I've never known that, ' I replied, and she sat
On her hands, with the pain of surprise,
'So what you've been saying has never been true! '
The tears rose up in her eyes!
'The road has been long, the road has been wide,
I never knew where I could turn.'
'I thought you were happy with me, ' she said;
There was nothing to say in return.
'I must have been sleeping for seventeen years, '
My voice sounded foreign and coarse,
But I couldn't handle the sighs and the lies,
Or the terrible sound of - 'divorce! '
I walked to the wood at the side of the road,
And followed the pathway around,
I couldn't look back now I'd made up my mind
Though I walked unfamiliar ground,
The clearing was quiet, the birds didn't sing,
A mountain rose up in my view,
I suddenly saw there was no going back
To the comfortable life that I knew.
I cast off my shackles and took a deep breath,
To breathe in both freedom and pride,
My strength was returning, and clearer my eye,
I walked with a bounce in my stride,
The years fell away, I was thirty again,
I stopped then, and sat on a stone,
For darkness was gathering there in the gloom
With that terrible feeling - alone!
I thought of the woman I'd left on the road,
Who'd always been faithful to me,
The tears that she'd shed for a love that was dead
Made me sad, and ashamed to be free,
I thought of the comfort she'd given me when
All my world started going insane,
She'd cooked and she'd cared, and she'd loved and she'd shared
And I'd given her nothing but pain.
I turned on the track, and I made my way back
But I couldn't see where I had been,
I stumbled through thickets and walked into trees
And I fell on my knees on the green.
'I am lost, I am lost, ' I cried into the night
Then I heard her voice, dim, by a tree
And woke to her stroking my face and my brow
As I cried… She was waiting for me!
9 March 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through The Headphones
Stretched out on the bed.
Snuggled up in flannel pj's.
Folded hands on chest.
Headphones placed on ears.
Portable CD player at my side.
Volume up - as much as I can handle.
I listen to my albums
through the headphones.
Hearing the music
in a whole new way.
Up close and personal.
Is this the same 20 year old song?
I never heard that lyric.
I never heard those notes.
I don't hear that on the record player.
I didn't know they did that
in the background.
Through the headphones
the voices come from straight ahead,
somewhere from the left or from the right.
I've never heard these songs this way.
I now have a whole new record collection.
Subway Musician
I saw her sitting in the subway
Next to a column
Wall-papered with advertisements.
She held an acoustic guitar,
And brushed her fingers against
The phosphor bronze strings,
And each note she plucked
Wrung clearly as a silver bell,
Or like one in a cathedral tower.
She sang her song to the spaces
Between the people
As they walked around her,
Deafened by their own busy lives
And the footsteps,
The conversations
Of others.
She was unaccompanied.
There was no drum beat,
Only the soft tapping thump of her heart—
Beating, beating, beating
Slow into the emptiness
Of the crowd consuming her.
It coupled with the clattering polyrhythms
The train created as it shook the track
Beneath its wheels,
All the while muffling her voice
As she tried to sing above it,
As she tried to strain her expression,
So it may be heard.
I saw her.
I watched her sing for someone that doesn't exist.
Someone that isn't real to anyone,
Except for her,
Though she knows she's lying to herself.
The aching breaks in her heart
Crack her voice in a way that the pain
Resonates from her chest,
Filling mine with a swell of longing.
At that moment,
That swell feels like a soul to me,
And I wish—
Oh, I wish—
She were singing to me.
She seems to know this feeling
That can't be explained in words,
That can't be articulated in sound,
That can't be understood
Until on feels it.
She seems to know how I am listening,
Lost inside the spell
Of her magic melodies,
And I would dream to harmonize
With the intimate tones
That she releases with passion,
But, the same as her,
I'm only writing my song,
And singing it here,
For someone who doesn't exist—
Not to anyone,
But me.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coming Home
It's a long and lonely highway.
When you're traveling all alone.
I was on my way to nowhere.
But now i'm coming home.
I'm coming home.
I've been running through the fire.
I've been running for so long.
If i took it any higher.
Baby i would be still be gone.
But now i'm coming home, coming home.i'm coming home.
Coming home, coming home, i'm coming home.
Well my home was really never.
On a far and distant shore.
If i stayed away forever.
I could never miss you more.
And so i'm coming home,coming home.i'm coming home.
Coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
I think of all these years gone by.
Never even wondered why.
I never touched the ground.
All the time that's come and gone.
All the nights i've been alone.
And now i'm homeward bound.
I heard the thunder over canaan.
And i've heard the angels cry.
And their voices came revealing
"as you live,so will you die."
I'm coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
I'm coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
Coming home, coming home, i'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home, coming home, coming home...
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take It In The Run
Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from another you been messin' around
They say you got a boy friend
You're out late every weekend
They're talkin' about you and it's bringin' me down
But I know the neighborhood
And talk is cheap when the story is good
And the tales grow taller on down the line
But I'm telling you, babe
That I don't think it's true, babe
And even if it is keep this in mind
{Refrain}
You take it on the run baby
If that's the way you want it baby
Then I don't want you around
I don't believe it
Not for a minute
You're under the gun so you take it on the run
You're thinking up your white lies
You're putting on your bedroom eyes
You say you're coming home but you won't say when
But I can feel it coming
If you leave tonight keep running
And you need never look back again
{Refrain x 3}
Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from another you been messin' around
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somebody Stole My Guitar
Remind me to tell you
Bout the old silver miner
Name of hard rock pete
Had his house built on a slope
They say one of his legs
Lived in calico
Thers a rumour going round
That the other lived in hope
So I walked in the room
And I stopped
I turned around
And looked over my shoulder
And a voice close beside me said
Youd better watch your head
The partys over
It wasnt long before
The waitress came over and said
Can I freshen up your drink
And have you heard of these boys
And if you feel included
To buy some cowboy boots
Well its not that bad
We can talk above the noise
So I sucked on my beer
Shut my eyes
And tried to listen to the words
I know I missed the meaning
But the message
Was something Id already heard
Johnny ringos voice
Is getting deeper
And now hes going to put
Another lock on the door
The night is getting later
My head is getting lighter
The mood is getting darker
Tequilas being poured
So I smile
At the old gunslinger
In his frame on the wall
As he pushed back his hat
And its all coming back
Id cut a long story short
But its much too late for that
Somebody stole my guitar
They took it from
The back seat of my car
I was sleeping in memphis
In my hotel room
And somebody stole my guitar
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whisper My Name
I heard a freight train out across the way
I heard a woman sing amazing grace
I heard a night bird call to its mate
When I heard you whisper my name
I heard freedom break its chain
A
I heard a heart beat where once on sound remained
I heard angels rise and praise
When I heard you whisper my name
Chorus:
I heard music bring a heart of stone to tears
I heard peace ring like an anthem through the years
And I heard hatred fall from grace
When I heard you whisper my name
Beating softly against the waves
Fell a sound of an early morning rain
And though the lighting and thunder came
I still heard you whisper my name
And I heard angels rise and praise
When I heard you whisper my name
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Return of Morgan and Fingal
And there we were together again—
Together again, we three:
Morgan, Fingal, fiddle, and all,
They had come for the night with me.
The spirit of joy was in Morgan’s wrist,
There were songs in Fingal’s throat;
And secure outside, for the spray to drench,
Was a tossed and empty boat.
And there were the pipes, and there was the punch,
And somewhere were twelve years;
So it came, in the manner of things unsought,
That a quick knock vexed our ears.
The night wind hovered and shrieked and snarled,
And I heard Fingal swear;
Then I opened the door—but I found no more
Than a chalk-skinned woman there.
I looked, and at last, “What is it?” I said—
“What is it that we can do?”
But never a word could I get from her
But “You—you three—it is you!”
Now the sense of a crazy speech like that
Was more than a man could make;
So I said, “But we—we are what, we three?”
And I saw the creature shake.
“Be quick!” she cried, “for I left her dead—
And I was afraid to come;
But you, you three—God made it be—
Will ferry the dead girl home.
“Be quick! be quick!—but listen to that
Who is that makes it?—hark!”
But I heard no more than a knocking splash
And a wind that shook the dark.
“It is only the wind that blows,” I said,
“And the boat that rocks outside.”
And I watched her there, and I pitied her there—
“Be quick! be quick!” she cried.
She cried so loud that her voice went in
To find where my two friends were;
So Morgan came, and Fingal came,
And out we went with her.
’T was a lonely way for a man to take
And a fearsome way for three;
And over the water, and all day long,
They had come for the night with me.
But the girl was dead, as the woman had said,
And the best we could see to do
Was to lay her aboard. The north wind roared,
And into the night we flew.
Four of us living and one for a ghost,
Furrowing crest and swell,
Through the surge and the dark, for that faint far spark,
We ploughed with Azrael.
Three of us ruffled and one gone mad,
Crashing to south we went;
And three of us there were too spattered to care
What this late sailing meant.
So down we steered and along we tore
Through the flash of the midnight foam:
Silent enough to be ghosts on guard.
We ferried the dead girl home.
We ferried her down to the voiceless wharf,
And we carried her up to the light;
And we left the two to the father there,
Who counted the coals that night.
Then back we steered through the foam again,
But our thoughts were fast and few;
And all we did was to crowd the surge
And to measure the life we knew;—
Till at last we came where a dancing gleam
Skipped out to us, we three,—
And the dark wet mooring pointed home
Like a finger from the sea.
Then out we pushed the teetering skiff
And in we drew to the stairs;
And up we went, each man content
With a life that fed no cares.
Fingers were cold and feet were cold,
And the tide was cold and rough;
But the light was warm, and the room was warm,
And the world was good enough.
And there were the pipes, and there was the punch,
More shrewd than Satan’s tears:
Fingal had fashioned it, all by himself,
With a craft that comes of years.
And there we were together again—
Together again, we three:
Morgan, Fingal, fiddle, and all,
They were there for the night with me.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Deception
I heard about your trip.
I heard about your souvenirs.
I heard about the cool breeze, in the cool nights,
and the cool guys that you spent them with.
Well I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I guess I should have heard of them from you.
Don't you see, don't you see,
that the charade is over?
And all the "Best Deceptions" and "Clever Cover Story" awards go to you.
So kiss me hard
'cause this will be the last time that I let you.
You will be back someday
and this awkward kiss that tells of other people's lips will be of service
to keeping you away.
I heard about your regrets.
I heard that you were feeling sorry.
I heard from someone that you wish you could set things right between us.
Well I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I'm waiting for blood to flow to my fingers,
I'll be all right when my hands get warm.
Ignoring the phone, I'd rather say nothing.
I'd rather you'd never heard my voice.
too late to be gracious
and you do not warrant long good-byes.
You're calling too late.
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Laughter Live
Each one in turn tests life’s allotted cell,
base line from which wills strive to win wide world.
On each Chance, Time, crime's partners, cast fell spell
churn Fortune’s tides, rides so diversely swirled.
What if we seem to prosper for a spell,
do well from womb - too soon in tomb we’re curled,
and what came first, the chicken or its shell?
Oft, final ends surprise, by Time unfurled.
What hope of Heaven if there be no Hell?
We ask, “Could God exist? ” as swift we whirl
across bane bridge Coincidence pell-mell
haphazardly casts on life’s vain pain pearl.
Make every moment matter, dark expel,
in laughter live until death's tocsin knell.
7 May 1989 latest revision 15 May 2009
robi03_0252_robi03_0000 SXX_CDZ
for previous version see below
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
In Laughter Live
Each one of us has his allotted cell,
a base from which to conquer all the world.
On each do Chance and Time cast secret spell
on Fortune’s tide are all diversely swirled.
What if we seem to prosper for a spell,
do well from womb - too soon in tomb we’re curled,
and what came first, the chicken or its shell?
Oft, final ends surprise, by Time unfurled.
What hope of Heaven if there be no Hell?
We ask, « Does God exist? » as we are whirled
across the bridge Coincidence pell-mell,
haphazardly light throws light on life’s pearl.
Make every moment matter, dark expel,
in laughter live until the final knell!
7 May 1989
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Always blue
I am nature’s lover
Staunch supporter and believer
I venture out to hear morning calm
I find trees but do not look at palm
So much height and beyond reach
Can not impart anything or teach
I find calm sea at beach
More to learn and less to preach
I hear calm echo in morning
It has opened up with new beginning
Lots of birds still resting in nest
Maya come out any time to serve the best
Have you not heard?
I said “M blue bird'
why you still wait?
You may get late
Smile on her face for while
when I had walked for miles
I heard beautiful voice
I did not think but made a choice
With lots of friend around
No similarities found
Love bird seemed to me very sound
Now I search for breeding ground
I know we will find a home
With happiness to welcome
New beginning with lots of thing in mind
You were generous enough to be very kind
I can fill in the gap
I think it as right step
I have nothing think for right or wrong
She is ideal and one of the best among
I loved the way you responded
I had not sent a word or corresponded
It was appearance of rare bird
What a magic voice was heard?
I was just lost with natural echo
It tore apart silent zone long ago
I wondered to have found a rare bird
Still lost with music never heard
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eternal Youth
I was travelling through a countryside
That I'd never seen before,
As it grew dark, the mountainsides
Loomed threatening, over my car,
The cloud hung low in a louring sky
And my headlights cut through the gloom,
Ahead on the twisting, bending road
I had hopes of a cosy room.
There wasn't a house or a farm out there,
The valley was threading down,
The deeper it went, the darker yet
With still no sign of a town,
I thought that I'd have to drive all night
And my eyes were growing dim,
When back in the trees, I saw a light
And a sign: ‘The Dew Drop Inn'.
I pulled at the bell for the Publican
And I heard a shuffle inside,
A shadow loomed, and the hinges creaked
And the door swung open wide,
A man so gaunt that his face was grey
And his sallow cheeks were thin,
Stood trembling in the doorway there
In the hall of the Dew Drop Inn! '
I followed him in, not saying a word,
He motioned me into the bar,
Then poured me a whiskey and water
While I stared at a glass topped jar,
It drew my gaze as I sipped my drink
For the contents bubbled and swirled,
And I said: ‘Just where is the Dew Drop Inn? '
He replied: ‘At the End of the World! '
His voice came bubbling out of his chest
Like the rasp of a rusty saw,
His hands were trembling, where they lay
And he kept his eyes on the door.
‘That jar, it changes its colours, look!
From red, through green and gold…'
He said: ‘They told me one sip from that
And a man would never grow old! '
I stared at him, and I saw him frown
With a tear at the edge of his eye,
This ancient man with the trembling hand
And I said: ‘Well, that was a lie! '
He shook his head and he turned to me
‘It depends what you want it for,
I was twenty-two when I took my sip…
I'm a hundred and sixty four! '
‘I didn't age for a hundred years
I revelled in youth, so long,
But suddenly I grew weary, thought
That there must have been something wrong!
I lost the zest for a youthful life,
Was beginning to feel my years,
All of my friends were dead and gone,
This life is a valley of tears! '
‘You're telling me that one sip from this
Will give me a hundred - True?
I'll still be fit and I'll still be strong,
At a hundred and thirty two? '
‘You will, but there's a condition
You must take on the Dew Drop Inn,
And stay in this cursèd valley then
‘Til a seeker of youth walks in! '
I'm standing behind the counter with
My eyes on the outer door,
I've stood like stone for forty years
And paced a track on the floor,
The Publican left, the moment I sipped
He went with a joyous cry,
In search of a path from the Dew Drop Inn
Where at last, he could finally die!
9 July 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kicked A Dog To Death
When that hound
Came around
The first time
It was wagging its tail
We were all smiles
We were all smitten
No one could know
I'd kick the dog to death
Oh when we lay out on the beach
Burning in the sun
The wind playing tricks
On the heat we thought we felt
Another of nature's illusions
There was no way of knowing
There was no way to guess
I'd kick that dog to death
I made a joke
You made a mess
And we both lay in bed
Eyes wide and hearts beating
Trying to focus my thoughts
You were trying to focus your thoughts
But we would have never thought
I'd kick a dog to death
I was living
You were living
We were breathing
Like it was all we knew to do
You were staring
My mind was snapping
Like it was all I knew to do
The dog was barking
The day descending
Like it was all it knew to do
I heard it growling
I heard you screaming
And my body answered the moment
And I kicked a dog to death
In those slow beating moments
Right there on the pavement
All the sounds of the world faded out
The contrast of the colours increased
You were on mute in my head
But you were saying something
Over and over
On mute in my head
As the dog lay there dead
I was living
You were living
We were breathing
Like it was all we knew to do
The dog was bleeding
The pavement darkening
Like it was all it knew to do
The sound slowly came back
The colours returned
Like it was all they knew to do
Waking that morning
We could never have known
We would never have guessed
I'd kick a dog to death
The moments before it
All erased
The years before it
All erased
When I kicked a dog to death
Like it was all I knew to do...
(2008)
poem by B. Alexander
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pearls of Verna Boone
I'd been alone for a year or so
Since Norma Jean had died,
I stayed in the house I'd bought for her
At the end of River Drive,
I'd felt her death as a fatal blow,
A crippling twist of fate,
For Norma Jean was my one true love,
Though I'd met her a little late!
I was past my prime when our eyes had met,
And she'd looked so young to me,
Her eyes had sparkled like diamonds set
As scarabs in sand and sea,
She saw the desert behind my eyes,
The emptiness in my life,
I stumbled over the words, but she
Said 'Yes! ' - She would be my wife!
I didn't know that she carried then
The seeds of a painful death,
Her face was flushed at the altar stone
And she seemed so short of breath,
I thought it merely a passing faint
That excitement had brought on,
As we stood in front of the Minister,
And joined our lives as one.
But then at home, she fell apart,
Collapsed on the kitchen floor,
I saw her lying, and coughing blood
Like I'd never seen before,
The doctor called, and he shook his head
As he left her there in the bed,
'I'm very sorry, ' the doctor sighed,
'But your lovely wife is dead! '
I cried and raged, and swore at fate
I smashed each wedding gift,
I wouldn't go to the funeral
But stayed at home and wept.
I cursed the heavens and thought that hell
Could never have been as bad
As a love that I'd waited a lifetime for,
A love that I'd never had!
The house next door was a rental place,
Stood empty for months that year,
But then a couple had moved on in,
I didn't see him, just her.
I thought that he was a traveller,
Was constantly on the road,
He came at night, and he left at dawn
In a battered and ancient Ford.
I had no reason to talk to them,
I sat at home with my grief,
I wandered out in the garden then
At one with each falling leaf,
But then one day, I heard her there
The other side of the fence,
Breaking her heart, as crying there
She sobbed with vehemence.
After a week of this, I climbed
The fence, and spoke to her,
'Why do you sigh, why do you cry? '
But she cried then all the more.
I walked around and sat with her
Quite late in the afternoon,
She smiled, and dried her eyes, and said,
'My name is Verna Boone! '
She said she'd only been married
Just a year this coming Spring,
But now that she knew the man he was,
Regretted everything,
He'd lost her money, just gambled it,
Had spent it on other girls,
And now they were left with nothing, he
Just wanted her mother's pearls!
'They're all I have to remember her, '
She sobbed, like a frightened child,
'They're worth a lot, but they're more to me, '
She looked at me, and smiled.
She took me inside and pulled them out
Three strings, they were very fine,
'He said that he's going to pawn them! '
Then she put her small hand in mine.
I was sad, alone and vulnerable,
I looked at her lovely curls,
She smiled at me, and she asked me then
If I'd care for her mother's pearls?
'I'll say they're lost, misplaced, I'll say,
He'll rant and rage, and more,
But he won't be able to pawn them now...'
Then she walked me to the door.
I took her home, and I placed the pearls
With the gems my wife had once:
'They'll be all right in the downstairs safe.'
It was then that she saw the gun.
She looked afraid, but she picked it up
And weighed it there in her hand,
I took it gently and locked it up
With the rest of my contraband.
'She must have watched as I spun the dial,
I know - I was such a fool! '
The sergeant sat and he stared at me,
And his stare was distant, cool.
He didn't believe a word I said
I could see that now, I'm done!
They put me back in a cell to wait
To be charged with Murder One!
She told them I had come over when
Her husband came home one night,
Waving a gun and ranting, then
Her husband put up a fight!
I'd shot him once through the head, she said,
Then taken her on the bed,
Stolen a fine pearl necklace,
Then beaten and left her for dead!
They found the gun on the floor, they said,
I knew that the gun was mine,
They found the pearls in my safe, they said,
It was only a question of time.
She sat at the back of the court while I
Was stood in the prisoner's dock,
And I noticed she wore her mother's pearls
With a nice new evening frock.
10 August 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lalani
I swore, when my wife took off one night
That I'd never love again,
She'd left a note by the candlelight:
'I've been seeing other men! '
I stood in shock, I couldn't move,
Stood rooted to the floor,
And after I'd pulled the blinds, I cried,
Then locked the cottage door.
The love that she'd sworn, just shadows;
The plans that we'd made, just sand,
My life had become a darker place
By the scrawl from a woman's hand.
The cottage was wreathed in silence, it
Was still, like a living tomb,
The only sounds were my echoing steps
As I paced there, in the gloom.
I spent, God! How many weeks? I sat
Just stared at a blank, white wall,
I didn't dare venture out, but drank,
I tried to forget it all,
But then I'd walk at the lonely beach
Where we'd skipped to a lovers tune,
The light of love had been in my eyes
As she'd danced to a harvest moon.
The autumn passed in a drunken haze
The nights were becoming chill,
I warmed myself in the comforting blaze
Of a wood fire on the hill,
But then one night as the breakers crashed
And spent themselves on the reef,
I heard the sounds of a woman's moans
Rise up from the lonely beach.
The storm was whipping the rising crests,
The wind soughed through the trees,
I made my way to the beach, and there
She crawled on her hands and knees,
I picked her up, and carried her back
To the cottage, and there I saw
The sea had savaged her body there,
Dragged over the rocky shore.
There was no clothing of any sort,
Her skin was a pearly white,
But scraped and marred, she was loveliness
As she even bled in the night,
I washed and tended her every cut
And I held my breath in the gloom,
I couldn't believe my fortune there
As she lay in my own front room.
I wrapped her up in a robe, to save
Embarrassment for us both,
She slept content for an hour or two
While I watched, and prayed and hoped,
Then just at dawn, she opened her eyes
Took one brief glance at me,
Then muttered a word, she said, 'La-la...'
Again, said: 'La-lani.'
For days she lay in a fever, and
I fed her on fish and bread,
I tried to get her to talk to me
But she only shook her head,
She'd had a cut on the side of her neck
That had healed, some time before,
But opened up as I stared at it,
So she hid it under her hair.
Within a week she was up and out,
Was dancing along the beach,
She'd smile, and tease me to chase her there,
I laughed, first time for weeks;
She peeled the robe off as she danced,
Came naked into my arms,
Then kissed and smothered me way out there
With all of her womanly charms.
I thought that she might be deaf and dumb,
She never attempted a word,
But showed affection by patting my arm,
By nodding and shaking her head.
The slit on her neck stayed open, and
I looked at the other side,
Where one of the same had marred her skin,
She dropped her eyes, and sighed.
I'd said I never would fall in love
Again, and that was true,
But that was before Lalani,
I was smitten, and that she knew.
I told her then that I wanted her,
Said I loved her more than life,
I didn't care that she couldn't speak,
I'd take her for my wife.
She smiled, but then looked troubled,
Dropped her head down onto her chin,
I found her down at the water's edge
Where the tide was coming in,
She opened her mouth and sang a note
As mournful as the grave,
Like the tone of a bell in a waterspout,
Or an underwater cave.
And there in the shallows rose a man
With skin like a silver fish,
With eyes like a giant halibut,
And teeth for tearing flesh,
He leapt right out of the water,
Seized her arm and dragged her in,
I shouted her name, 'Lalani...'
But they'd gone, and the sea was calm.
In terror, I launched my boat, and revved
The engine out in the bay,
I circled the shallow waters,
Then I headed on out to sea,
I stopped at last, and stared straight down
To the weed on the ocean floor,
It was then that I saw Lalani
Swimming under the surface there.
She floated, feet below me,
Looking up, and she waved goodbye,
The fish man waited down below
As she turned - I thought I'd die!
She sank to the depths, and out of sight,
I knew that she'd gone for good...
I'll burn the cottage one moonless night,
Love's not in my neighborhood!
22 July 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hallelujah
Hallelujah
I am a preacher with a message for my people
Over the world, scratching on the ground
Looking for the peace that nobody has found
I am a spokesman for a better way of living
Love is the word and it can be heard
If you are young the message can be sung
Let me hear you sing, hallelujah
Oh tell it to the man whos power is the sermon on the wall
Tell it to the man who says you can misjudge them all
Tell it till it can be heard above the wailing of the crowd
Tell it on the field of war and hope youll soon be justified
There is a better way of life and its not so hard to find
If you live and let the people in your world speak its mind
I am the pupil who sells his life for freedom
All over the world and it can be heard
If you are young the message can be sung
Hallelujah
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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