The Confession
‘I'm ill, I'm ill, ' said Rockingham,
‘I'm ill, ' then took to his bed,
He tossed and turned in his fever there
As the visions danced in his head.
He couldn't tell if the world outside
Was real, or a crazy dream,
But muttered into the night, instead
Of some of the things he'd seen.
His wife, Marie, was a surly wench
She said, ‘I'll not be a nurse!
I'll not be tied to a sick man's bed
And left the room, with a curse.
She called the maid and she told her: ‘Sit!
And mop at the old man's brow,
I'll be abroad in the coach and six,
If he dies, go milk the cow! '
The fever turned to delerium
As he tossed and turned all night,
The doctor came, and he feared for him
As he lay in the grey twilight,
He used up seventeen leeches as
He blooded him, full sore,
But Rockingham was a haunted man
From a time of long before.
From time to time, he would sit up straight
And stare, with an awful dread,
As the ghost of Harold Murchison
Would hover, over his bed.
‘Don't come for me, it was my Marie
That you wanted - She was a witch!
If only you'd taken her off from me,
She's such a God-awful bitch! '
He fell back onto the pillow, cried
At the mess he'd made of his life,
And the worst mistake he'd ever made
Was to make Marie his wife,
She'd married him for the Castle gate
And the pride of a titled name,
But her love had stayed with Murchison
And she saw him, just the same.
At midnight they had hurried the priest
And the constable came too,
‘I think he'll be dead by morning, ' said
The doc: ‘Not much I can do! '
But Rockingham tossed as one quite lost
While the ghost lay in his mind,
‘It's true, it's true! What was I to do?
I poisoned her Harry's wine! '
He fell back onto the pillow, slept
In the peace of the almost dead,
For Murchison had faded away
At the words that he'd just said,
He woke that morn when a thunderstorm
Flash-flooded over the floor,
His eyes were bright from his endless night,
But the hangman stood at the door!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Goodbye Marie
I woke up this mornin'
All cotton mouthed from drinkin'
Wonderin' how I'd make it through the day-ay
Wild eyed and crazy
All burned out from thinkin'
Wonderin' how the hell I's gonna say
Goodbye Marie, oh goodbye Marie-ie
Out the window there's a lonesome highway callin' me
It was fun Marie, but I got to ru-un Marie
If I can not keep your love
At least I'll have your memory
Goodbye Marie
Wakin' up beside you
On a Tijuana mornin'
With that ocean breeze to keep us cool
Three weeks of lovin'
Twenty-one nights of heaven
I stayed just long enough to be your fool
Oh goodbye Marie, oh goodbye Marie-ie
Out the window there's a lonesome highway callin' me
It was fun Marie, but I got to ru-un Marie
If I can not keep your love
At least I'll have your memory
Goodbye Marie
Por favor, pour me
One more tequila
I need all the courage I can fi-ind
This time tomorrow
I'll be back in Houston
Thinkin' about the girl I left behi-ind
So goodbye Marie, oh good Marie-ie
Out the window there's a lonesome highway callin' me
It was fun Marie and I got to ru-un Marie
If I can not keep your love
At least I'll have your memory
Goodbye Marie
Goodbye Marie, oh good Marie
Out the window there's a lonesome highway callin' me
It was fun Marie, but I got to ru-un Marie
If I can not keep your love
At least I'll have your memory
Goodbye Marie [fade]
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day I Met Marie
(hank marvin)
Imagine a still summers day
When nothing is moving
Least of all me
I lay on my back in the hay
The warm sun was soothing
It made me feel good
The day I met marie
The sound of her whispered hello
Came tiptoeing softly into my head
I opened my eyes kind of slow
There she was smiling
It made me feel good
The day I met marie
With her laughing eyes
She tossed her hair and tantalized
She came, she touched me, then shed gone
Just like a summer breeze
I remember her kiss
So soft on my brow
And the way that she said
Baby go to sleep now
Baby go to sleep now
I woke with a chill in the air
The warm sun no longer hung in the sky
I reached out but she was not there
Shed gone where she came from
But I still feel good
To think Ive known marie
With her laughing eyes
She tossed her hair and tantalized
She came, she touched me, then shed gone
Just like a summer breeze
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Thy Will Be Done!
I always thought that Jean La Mare was strange,
Gave me the creeps,
With lank, uncared for russet hair
And eyes with depths and deeps,
She hung her head when walking by
Wore dresses to her shins,
She had no friends at school, at lunch
Sat by the rubbish bins.
Her father was the picture of a
Martinet of old,
Bolt upright, at attention he
Would rant at her, and scold.
An Army Colonel, long retired
His wife dead in the ground,
His thoughts for bringing daughters up
Were ancient, and profound.
She dared not answer back, nor baulk
At anything he said,
He kept her close, so close we thought
That she slept in his bed.
We never saw her out of school
She cooked and cleaned and swept,
When asked if she'd be at the Ball,
She turned away, and wept.
Time passed, and we had left the school,
Got on with living life,
I met someone, and pretty soon
Had caught myself a wife,
But my old friend from schooldays
Richard Carson, lived alone,
He said he'd not met anyone
Who thrilled him to the bone.
We'd all turned just on thirty when
He dropped the big surprise,
He said that he'd asked Jean La Mare!
I answered, 'Is that wise? '
It seems the Martinet had died,
Was safely in his box,
So Jean was free, and so was he
To tie the wedding knots.
I saw her at the wedding there,
The first time then for years,
I saw her laugh for once, she laughed
So much, it came to tears.
They seemed so happy in that church,
Her burden dead and gone,
But Richard told me later of
Her curse - 'Thy Will Be Done! '
For every evening of her life
She'd get down on her knees,
Before a varnished wooden box
And pray that she had pleased!
The box stood on the mantelpiece
And Richard dared not ask
Just what was in that box; he thought
It was her father's ash!
She'd pray and ask for guidance, then
She'd listen in the gloom,
He never heard a murmur but, she did,
Before that tomb!
She'd answer statements no-one made,
Would wail, then plead, implore,
While Richard stayed away and hid,
Stood listening by the door!
He asked her what her father said
When he'd approached him once,
The old man turned and marched away,
He'd felt quite like a dunce!
He'd asked if he could take her out,
The Colonel stood and glared:
'If you should even speak to her, young man,
I'll see you dead! '
But Jean had blushed and looked away,
And wouldn't answer then,
She muttered: 'He just didn't want me
Mixing with young men! '
But then she started acting strange,
Would slyly look away,
Whenever he came in the room
As she was going to pray.
He came to see me, looking ill,
He said he was unwell,
That Jean was getting stranger by the day
His life was hell!
She'd served him up a meal that made
Him sick, perspire and weak,
I told him he should get away...
He found it hard to speak!
I didn't want to interfere
But things were looking grim,
I went around to see them, well, not her,
I cared for him.
She flashed a look of hate at me,
Unbridled, undisguised,
She looked like some fanatic with
Grey analytic eyes.
She left us then to talk, and I
Saw on the mantelpiece,
The box that he'd described to me,
I said, 'Just call the Police! '
I'd flipped the clasp, the front swung down
It opened up to dread,
For staring at us both, we saw
His eyeless, staring head!
Then Jean came back, let out a scream,
Attacked me with a knife,
I caught her wrist, said: 'Richard,
Just restrain your crazy wife! '
She fell down on her knees and cried:
'I tried to be a son! '
Then listened, as if hearing it,
Then said, 'Thy will be done! '
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unable To Sleep
didn't sleep well last night
I didn't dream last night
Losing all the battles
Losing all my fight
I didn't sleep well last night
Barely closed my eyes
tossed and turned and paced
until sunrise
I didn't dream last night
Any time I tried
I cried inside
and wanted to run and hide
I didn't sleep well last night
My world seems confused
Like a dead-end in a maze
like an ocean without a sky
All my friends are far away
the hands I hold are imagined
my life in shades of blue and grey
A life derailed and gone astray
I didn't dream last night
All my dreams feel broken
Hardly uttered or spoken
my tears have run dry
I didn't sleep at all last night
caught up in dispair
for all the things not right
not all black and white
I didn't dream last night
my heart is ablaze
with sadness and fright
No way to make things right
I didn't sleep at all last night
My ship must have sailed away
All I can do is pray
but I've forgotten why
2008 © James T. Adair
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fever
When I get home from my job
I turn on my t.v.
But I cant keep my mind on the show
When I lay down at night
I dont get no sleep
So I turn on the radio
But, lord, the only thing I hear
Is you whisperin in my ear
The words that you used to say
Well, now the days grow longer
My love grows stronger
And the fever gets worse every day
I got a fever for a girl
Hes got the fever
Oh, hes got the fever
Nothing that a boy can do
When hes got the fever for a girl
Hes got the fever
Oh, hes got the fever
Left this little boy blue
I can remember comin home
See you standin at the stove
With the dishes on the table
Dinner ready to go
Or maybe out to a movie show
Something that youd like to see
Oh, you were my sun in the morning
And my moon at night
When you put your arms around me
Made me fell alright
Well, now the days grow longer
And my love just grows stronger
And the fever gets so bad at night
I got a fever for a girl
Hes got the fever
Oh, hes got the fevernothing that a boy can do
When hes got the fever for a girl
Hes got the fever
Oh, hes got the fever
Left this little boy blue
Its gonna be alright, now
If I can make it to the morning
Im gonna be alright, now
If I can just make it to the morning
Its just this long and lonely nights
Everytime I close my eyes
All I see is her face
Everytime I shut my eyes
All I see is her face
But Im gonna be alright, now
Ill be alright, now
When I shut down all the lights
When I turn off all the lights
When I turn down all the lights
And when I lay my head on the pillow
I cant stop myself in thinking
Baby, where are you tonight?
Where is she tonight?
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Turns to Hate
I'm sorry, my love, you made a mistake
When you sent me a piece of your wedding cake,
You should never have married that awful fake,
That all-time loser, what a dreadful mistake! !
Did you think I'd understand? For Heaven's sake! !
Every night I lie there, wide awake,
Cursing and knowing my heart will break,
'Cos there's only so much a man can take.
I hope you're happy, but when you've read
This message I've sent you, I'll be stone dead!
I used to think there's a purpose in life
And how I dreamed you would be my wife!
But I was a fool, and life's absurd
And the stupidest thing I've ever heard
Is the daft idea we could be 'just friends' -
No! This is the way the comedy ends!
Don't put any flowers at the side of my grave
Or shed any tears, no, try to 'be brave',
I'll be coming back in the dark midnight,
A hungry ghost, and you'll get a fright,
I'll do what I can to destroy your mind,
After all, you were always too 'sweet and kind'! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking for Love
We married when we were just nineteen,
I thought her a perfect catch,
We'd fallen in love on the day she came
To watch, at a football match,
I'd fallen badly, injured my leg
And was subbed in the second half,
She came to the dressing room, and tied
My leg with her silken scarf.
She said that she was a trainee nurse
And practice was better than none,
I told her I was a graduate,
I'd be limping from now on,
We took a seat at a coffee shop
And stayed for the afternoon,
As I gazed at her dark brown eyes and hair,
And she smiled at me in the gloom.
Our romance whirled us on at a pace
That was breathless, with content,
Whatever our fate would hold for us
We were sure that it was meant,
I ceased to notice the other girls,
And she looked only at me,
We tied the knot on a fresh Spring morn
As we stood by a willow tree.
We made our home in a city flat
Close to her hospital,
I studied and crammed for my Ph.D.
Not counting the cost at all,
But soon we were way behind in the rent
And moved on out to the burbs,
Life was more difficult than we'd thought,
We grew our own veggies, and herbs.
She worked three shifts, and came home tired,
And I would study all night,
Then one came in as the other went out,
I felt that it wasn't right,
We argued then, and we made it up,
Then we argued a little more,
She said she'd go to her parents then,
But I just barred the door.
We'll just have to work it out, ' I said,
'We can't go giving up now,
I know that I love you, Sylvia,
And things will improve, somehow.'
'I love you too, but it's such a mess, '
She cried, and dabbed at her tears,
'There's not enough money to buy a house
And there won't be, not for years.'
I shelved my studies, applied for a job,
The money was not very good,
I'd studied for years, and there was I
In a sawmill, cutting wood.
I suddenly felt resentful then
To be wed to a low-paid nurse,
She'd lost that spark in her eyes that said
I love you, better or worse.
We slowly drifted apart, she'd work
An extra shift when she could,
While I would prowl in the nightclubs
Where the folk were up to no good.
I drank a lot, got bleary eyed,
Came home, hung-over and grim,
While Sylvie began to ignore me,
Often went out as I came in.
One night at a Club, I saw a girl
Blonde hair and the bluest eyes,
Dolled up in a mini skirt so short
It attracted all the guys,
She danced and shimmied around the room
And giggled and seemed like fun,
She made me think of my Sylvie
Now that the spark and the fun had gone.
Each Wednesday night I saw this girl,
But she never looked at me,
I grew obsessed as I followed her,
It compounded my misery.
I'd get up close and she'd whirl away
And dance with another guy,
I'd like to have gone and talked to her
But I guess I was feeling shy.
For weeks I had tried, got close to her
But then couldn't squeeze out a word,
I felt myself falling in love again
But knew that was quite absurd,
For Sylvie was there at the back of my mind,
I couldn't quite block her out,
But then when the blonde whirled past again
My heart would jump into my mouth.
There came the day that I followed her home,
She lived in the burbs, like me,
We both caught the number seventeen
Though she was ahead of me,
I sat at the back and hid myself,
We came to my usual stop,
Then to my surprise, the blonde stood up
Walked down the aisle and got off.
I wasn't that far behind her then
But she hurried away, and ran,
I thought it strange, and increased my pace
But she left me behind at the Strand.
She turned the corner, into my street
But then she had disappeared,
My heart was pounding, I almost ran...
Could it be what I really feared?
I walked unsteadily into the house,
But stopped at the kitchen door,
For there was Sylvie, a wig in her hand
A blonde that I'd seen before,
She grinned at me, popped her contacts out
And said, 'Hi, where have you been? '
Then laughed, and I saw my Sylvie again
As I'd seen her at just nineteen.
We made the most passionate, frantic love
With her blonde wig back in place,
'I thought that I'd teach you a lesson, ' she said,
With a sly look on her face.
And since that day I've been cured of straying,
Each time she comes through the door,
She's a blonde, brunette, a redhead yet...
What red-blooded man could want more?
8 April 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Real Turned On
Girl, before you go now
Theres one thing I wanted to do
Thats get you to come back
Because I wanna make love to you
Got me real turned on
Yes, you have
But theres something in your eyes
Telling me you have to go
Something in your eyes
But youre trying not to let it show
Got me real turned on
Next time you come over
Ill buy you a bottle of wine
Just take a little drink
And everything will turn out fine
Yes, it will
Whoa baby, do you know
What Ive got in mind
Can you guess what it is
Or do you want it on the line
Got me real turned
Got me real turned
Got me real turned
Got me real turned on
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dream Come True Just Turned Out To Be A Dream
Had Many Dreams
of Course you and I.
But my Dream Come True,
Just turned out to be a dream.
Badly did I want it to come true..
But it is really true,
True that
My Dream Come True,
Just turned out to be a dream.
We Dreamt of it Each Night,
Thought of it Each Day
My Dream Come True,
Just turned out to be a dream.
We Bickered With it all day
Through out our ways
But we still remained,
Remained unaware that
The Dream Come True,
Will just turn out to be a Dream.
We imagined us there
But we truly couldn't bear,
Bare that
Our Dream Come True,
Will just turned out to be a dream.
Up the Mountains,
Did we wish to go...
To the land of streams and snow
Did we wish to go…
But we didn't ever know,
Know that,
We'd sacrifice a soul…
Give it up as a whole
I wished we hadn't done that
So did all…
But we never ever knew
That the pass to enter the mounts,
Was to sacrifice a soul....
Mountains and rivulets,
Kept beckoning us…
The days faded away...
And at last
Towards them we made our Sway!
We called ourselves lucky,
Without knowing we weren't.
We Beamed with Pride
Over flowed with Joy.
But we stilled remained Unaware
That we'd sacrifice a soul.
And
Our Dream Come True,
Will just turn out to be a dream.
UP the divine land,
We were to be.
But couldn't we ever think,
Think one of us would reach Far Above
And Above to the Heaven.
We didn't imagine
She'd fly without us
FLY SO HIGH
High to the Heaven.
To make our dream come true
Just turn out to become a dream
And just a Dream
Mourning her removal from the Earth
Praying for her Placement in the Heaven,
We slid down the Mountains…
Being one less
One less than how many arrived
Our Dream Come true
JUST Turned out to be a DREAM!
It is Really True,
True That
Our Dream Come True,
Just turned out to be a dream.
A Dream Unforgettable…
poem by Rishi Kaashyap
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sick And Twisted Mind In A Rhyme
A sick and twisted mind,
turned by time,
becomes a new story in a twisted rhyme
Come along and read it don't cost a dime
Little Red Ridding Hood
Walking through the woods
The wolf,
mouth drooling,
up to good
Now Little Red dropped a piece of candy
With a jump and sprawl,
her face was in his jaws.
He started shaking breaking her neck,
skin started to tear apart,
and the muscles started to bleed.
The wolf was walking off with her head in his mouth,
Rage in his eyes
He was suprised that
he did succeed.
A sick and twisted mind,
turned by time,
becomes a new story in a twisted rhyme
Come along and read it, it don't cost a dime
Hansel and Gretel got left on a bridge,
scary place,
chilly like a fridge,
Owls howling in the moonlight.
They're so scared,
But they see a bright light,
The ginger bread house,
In it an old witch quiet as a mouse,
As they walk up,
She walks out
Now she invites them to eat the couch
While their back is turned she grabs an axe
Now from behind their skulls are cracked
she starts chopping wack wack wack,
Into the stew their meat goes,
it is so yummy to an old raggity hoe
A sick and twisted mind,
turned by time,
becomes a new story in a twisted rhyme
Come along and read it don't cost a dime
Jack told Jill to come play a game,
When they got up the hill,
He stabbed a knife in her brain,
Her eyes fled in the back of her head.
He pushed her down the well
her body falling dead
A sick and twisted mind,
turned by time,
becomes a new story in a twisted rhyme
Come along and read it don't cost a dime
Alice fell down a rabbit hole into a scary room,
blood on the walls
a wicked gloom
and on the floor
a dead white rabbit
the red queen loves it
killing is her habit
Alice opens the door
the queen was waiting now
Alice can't feel anymore
The cheshire cat watching the gore
He licks the blood of the dead
Then disappears with nothing said.
A sick and twisted mind,
turned by time,
becomes a new story in a twisted rhyme
Come along and read it don't cost a dime
(I Know Gruesome Sorry,
Just trying to make something
cooler than just love poems.
Just added a second part.
Sick and Twisted Mind In a Rhyme II.
If y'all liked this one,
check it out.)
poem by Matthew Petranovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Supper
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
And the mouth so mocking gay,
A wanton you to the finger-tips,
Who break men's hearts in play;
A thing of dust I have striven for,
Honour and manhood given for,
Headlong to ruin driven for,
And this is the last, you say. . . .
Drinking your wine with dainty sips,
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips.
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
ong have you held your sway;
I have laughed at your merry quips -
Now is my time to pay.
What we sow we must reap again;
When we laugh we must weep again;
So to-night we will sleep again,
Nor wake until Judgement Day. . . .
'Tis a poisoned wine that your palate lips,
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips.
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
Down on your knees and pray;
Pray your last ere the moment slips,
Pray ere the dark and the terror grips,
And the bright world fades away.
Pray for the peace and the rest of us:
Here comes the Shape in quest of us,
Now we must go away. . . .
You and I in the grave's eclipse,
Marie Vaux of the painted Lips.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballad of Father Gilligan
The old priest Peter Gilligan
Was weary night and day
For half his flock were in their beds
Or under green sods lay.
Once, while he nodded in a chair
At the moth-hour of the eve
Another poor man sent for him,
And he began to grieve.
'I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace,
For people die and die;
And after cried he, 'God forgive!
My body spake not I!'
He knelt, and leaning on the chair
He prayed and fell asleep;
And the moth-hour went from the fields,
And stars began to peep.
They slowly into millions grew,
And leaves shook in the wind
And God covered the world with shade
And whispered to mankind.
Upon the time of sparrow chirp
When the moths came once more,
The old priest Peter Gilligan
Stood upright on the floor.
'Mavrone, mavrone! The man has died
While I slept in the chair.'
He roused his horse out of its sleep
And rode with little care.
He rode now as he never rode,
By rocky lane and fen;
The sick man's wife opened the door,
'Father! you come again!'
'And is the poor man dead?' he cried
'He died an hour ago.'
The old priest Peter Gilligan
In grief swayed to and fro.
'When you were gone, he turned and died,
As merry as a bird.'
The old priest Peter Gilligan
He knelt him at that word.
'He Who hath made the night of stars
For souls who tire and bleed,
Sent one of this great angels down,
To help me in my need.
'He Who is wrapped in purple robes,
With planets in His care
Had pity on the least of things
Asleep upon a chair.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Creation of the Moon
The man cut his throat and left his head there.
The others went to get it.
When they got there they put the head in a sack.
Farther on the head fell out onto the ground.
They put the head back in the sack.
Farther on the head fell out again.
Around the first sack they put a second one that
was thicker.
But the head fell out just the same.
It should be explained that they were taking the head
to show to the others.
They did not put the head back in the sack.
They left it in the middle of the road.
They went away.
They crossed the river.
But the head followed them.
They climbed up a tree full of fruit
to see whether it would go past.
The head stopped at the foot of the tree
and asked them for some fruit.
So the men shook the tree.
The head went to get the fruit.
Then it asked for some more.
So the men shook the tree
so that the fruit fell into the water.
The head said it couldn't get the fruit from there.
So the men threw the fruit a long way
to make the head go a long way to get it so they could go.
While the head was getting the fruit
the men got down from the tree and went on.
The head came back and looked at the tree
and didn't see anybody
so went on rolling down the road.
The men had stopped to wait
to see whether the head would follow them.
They saw the head come rolling.
They ran.
They got to their hut they told the others that the head
was rolling after them and to shut the door.
All the huts were closed tight.
When it got there the head commanded them to open the doors.
The owners would not open them because they were afraid.
So the head started to think what it would turn into.
If it turned into water they would drink it.
If it turned into earth they would walk on it.
If it turned into a house they would live in it.
If it turned into a steer they would kill it and eat it.
If it turned into a cow they would milk it.
If it turned into a bean they would cook it.
If it turned into the sun
When men were cold it would heat them.
If it turned into rain the grass would grow and the
animals would crop it.
So it thought, and it said, "I will turn into the moon."
It called, "Open the doors, I want to get my things."
They would not open them.
The head cried. It called out, "At least give me
my two balls of twine."
They threw out the two balls of twine through a hole.
It took them and threw them into the sky.
It asked them to throw it a little stick too
to roll the thread around so it could climb up.
Then it said, "I can climb, I am going to the sky."
It started to climb.
The men opened the doors right away.
The head went on climbing.
The men shouted, "You going to the sky, head?"
It didn't answer.
As soon as it got to the Sun
it turned into the Moon.
Toward evening the Moon was white, it was beautiful.
And the men were surprised
to see that the head had turned into the Moon.
Silence Of The Damned
Can your hear the silence.
something isn't right.
dead is the night.
who turn out the lights.
then they converge upon me like vulture.
a breeze of wind blows and
bring the chills right down to my very bones.
I know I'm done for but don't even care
cause its not my nightmare but yours.
twisted and turned. living on dead memories.
eating upon them so slowly.
Can you hear the silence.
something isn't right. dead is the night.
Who turned off the lights.
who is it this time.
again they converge.
but this isn't my nightmare.
its yours. watch in despair.
suck in your last bit of air.
no life left for me.
giving up and letting the leeches feed.
for everyone has their needs.
everyone needs to bleed.
and this time its you destiny.
Can you hear the silence.
something isn't right.
dead is the night.
who turned of the light.
who is it this time.
just remember this is not my nightmare but your.
you open the door welcome them in.
so now you must try to fend hyenas off if you can.
if not welcome to the damned.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Whispers in My Ear
The doctors said: ‘Take her away,
There's nothing we can do,
The life is seeping from her blood
Her soul is weeping too,
But keep her in a darkened room
And hidden from the light,
Perhaps you'll gain a week or two
Before her soul takes flight! '
I drove her to ‘The Grange' at that,
Post haste, in coach and four,
I veiled her in black crepe and lace,
She fainted at the door.
I carried her, she was so slight
I feared she might be dead,
And laid her on the davenport
A pillow at her head.
I covered her with red damask
And drew the velvet drapes,
There'd be no light for her again
This side of heaven's gates,
She stirred in her delirium
And sighed with every tear,
‘Once you were mine, but now I find
Death whispers in my ear! '
I lit a single candle, and
The beam fell on her face,
Though she was in extremis she
Had lost but little grace,
If only she had looked at me
To whisper words of love,
But he was near, Sir Ralph de Vere,
And ruled her from above.
He'd lured her from our marriage bed
And had his way with her,
He'd dazzled her with sweet perfumes
And trinkets by the score,
He'd danced her off her pretty feet
And turned her face from me,
And like a fool, I fought a duel
With aristocracy.
Two pistols primed, he turned and fired
But most erratically,
His Second begged to cease it there
But I aimed carefully,
My first had pinged his shoulder
But he stood his ground, and stared,
The second bullet, true and straight
Left Ralph de Vere quite dead!
The Seconds swore it legal when
The Magistrate was called,
But not so my Elizabeth;
No! - She was quite appalled.
She sank into a stupor there
Of shock and binding grief,
‘You've taken all my love, ' she cried,
‘You're just a petty thief! '
A week she lay within these walls
A week of no respite,
I heard some ghostly mutterings
Around The Grange at night,
And then an apparition formed
Beside that davenport,
That wraithlike Peer, Sir Ralph de Vere
That I had set at naught.
The wraith leant over where she lay,
Held out a bony hand,
She rose up from the davenport
And laughed that she could stand,
They drifted from that hateful room,
Where I would have to stay,
Her body on the davenport
They faded both away.
I paced about that fateful night
And raged there in the gloom,
Her stolen soul had taken flight
From dearth, within that room.
And now I find my nightly plight
Is worse than dreamless fear,
Its bony hands caught at my throat,
Death whispers in my ear!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marie Claire
Down in the valley, beside the Seine
Where it's cold and damp in the autumn rain,
A couple once opened a restaurant,
And called it the Café d'Aubijon.
The chef was Henri Apollinaire,
His wife, the beautiful Marie Claire,
And Henri worshipped his wife, complete
From her hair right down to her darling feet.
Marie had more of a roving eye
For the guests and the diners, passing by,
While Henri slaved over plates of veal,
Marie saw hearts she would like to steal.
She flirted, fluttered and teased with eyes
That promised much to the less than wise,
She often removed her wedding ring
And leant so close, she was whispering.
She'd show each guest to his tiny room
In the long drawn lull of the afternoon,
Then disappear for an hour or so
While Henri dealt with the guests below.
Then down amongst the crème brûlé,
The Guinea Fowl and the consommé,
The Chef sat brooding about his life,
Breaking his heart for his faithless wife.
So many guests had come and gone
From Caen, Toulouse, from Avignon,
From Brest, Limoux, from Vaux Sur Mer,
He wondered what he was doing there.
But every time that he saw his wife
His heart said: 'She's the love of my life! '
He never would think to challenge her there,
Her loss would shackle him in despair!
A change came suddenly over her
When a guest called André Carpentier
Took up her offer of room and board
And sneered at Henri's estouffade.
Too thin, too thick, the wine was sour,
He sniped, was muttering by the hour,
For nothing was well enough done, by half,
And Marie Claire had begun to laugh.
For every sneer, she laughed aloud,
To Henri's shame, a miserable cloud,
That stank as rotten as pourriture
Hung over his head and his future, too.
She taunted and teased with André there,
She wore perfume, let down her hair
She shortened each skirt in the cedar robe
While down in the kitchen, Henri moaned.
Then she went visiting André's room
Each day, for part of the afternoon,
The business dying, it slowly failed
The door was boarded, the shutters nailed.
He still served up their dinner and tea,
But cooking for not just two, but three,
Still André quibbled, but shamelessly
Sat with his hand on Marie's knee.
After a week of total despair,
She went for a walk, did Marie Claire,
André asked if she'd ever come back,
But Henri's eyes were ringed, and black.
He told André that he'd better go,
But Andre scowled, insisted: 'No! '
'I'm paid up here for a month and a day,
'Til Marie returns, I think I'll stay! '
Henri cooked for them both that week,
His touch was light, and the food unique,
Cuisse de mouton, parmentier
He served to the hungry Carpentier.
Wine so red with a strange bouquet,
Served with lashings of pink pâté,
Jambonneau and some crêpes suzette
And snacks, and biscuits and plain rillettes.
Henri said that he couldn't eat,
He told André: 'I admit defeat!
You've taken the love of Marie Claire,
You should be together, it's only fair! '
On Friday night as the meal began,
André lost the use of his hands,
Then a numbness rose in his feet,
He opened his mouth and he tried to speak.
'Love is a horror, ' said Henri, then,
'It lifts, then drags you back down again.
But you, my friend, have the problem solved
You can have your love and your cake - Resolved! '
'You've eaten and drunk your fill of her,
Marie, thin sliced and as cordon bleu
Each tender morsel you passed on through
Has made just one from the two of you.
But now the tables are turned, you see,
For she is starving, my poor Marie,
She's always happy to try fresh meat;
So glad that you offered! - all she can eat!
He left the room to his guest awhile
And then returned with a winning smile
Pushed on a chair with castors there,
While tied to the frame, was Marie Claire.
Au naturel, not a stitch in sight,
André looked up, and he blanched in fright,
Marie had the looks of a cripple who begs,
She'd lost both arms, and where were her legs?
Now still they sit, those lovers two,
Who stare as they eat each other's stew,
For André's legs are a thing of the past,
With other bits that he seems to have lost.
For Henri fed her the ris de homme,
While André chews on the sliced mouton,
He can't complain, for she's eaten his tongue
And she can't flirt, for her eyes have gone.
2 August 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Michael Picasso
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by justin purington)
Once upon a time
Not so long ago
People used to stand and stare
At the spider with the platinum hair
They thought you were immortal
We had our ups and downs
Like brothers often do
But I was there for him
He was always there for me
And we were there for you
How can I put into words
What my heart feels?
Its the deepest thing
When somebody you love dies
I just wanted
To give something back to you
Gift to gift
Michael, michael picasso good night
You used to love our house
You said it was relaxing
Now I walk in the places you walk
I talk in all the spaces you talk
It still hasnt sunk in
Are the words real
That come into my head
On a morning walk?
Do the shadows
Play tricks with my mind?
For it feels like
Nothing has changed
But I know it has
Michael, michael picasso
Good night
Heal me
Wont you
Heal me?
Nothing lasts forever
Set me free
Heal me
Wont you
Heal me?
Im the one whos left here
Heal me
Heal me
Heal me
You turned into a ghost
Surrounded by your pain
And the thing that I liked the least
Was sitting round hasker street
Lying about the future
And we all sit
In a room full of tears
On a windy day
And I looked out
But none of these words seem right
I just wanted
To give something back to you
Gift to gift
Michael, michael picasso
Good night
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost Bear, page 1 of 4
Long ago, in a small village
Where the Great River meets the
Limitless Salt Sea, lived Muin Manitu,
An aging shaman.
Ghost Bear had two good wives
Who gave him four fine daughters
And many grand-children.
But now both wives were dead.
Ghost Bear was getting old,
So old that he made his death song
Mumbling it often under his breath
So he would not forget it.
One night, Raven came to Ghost Bear
In a dream, bringing an important message.
“You must leave wigwam and village,
before the sun rises again.”
“This must be my time, ” thought
Ghost Bear, “My time to die.
I am glad. It is a good time
to leave this world.”
And so, taking only his knife and
His Medicine Bag, Ghost Bear pushed
His canoe out into the river while
All the village slept.
“I will go west on the Great River, ”
Thought Ghost Bear to himself, “Then,
When it is my time to go, I will be
pointed in the right direction.”
All morning long, Ghost Bear paddled
Westward on the Great River, and when
Sun was directly above him, he saw
A raven flying high above.
“I am going true, ” he thought, “Raven
Has sent me an unmistakeable sign.”
And Ghost Bear kept paddling with
Neither food nor drink.
As day became night, Ghost Bear
Continued on, for the full moon was bright
And showed him the right path on the
Great River clearly, brightly.
poem by John Bliven Morin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A little Ghost Story
As I was going to bed
I turned out my light
tucked myself in
on a long winter's night
All of a sudden
I heard a door squeak
I thought someone was in my house
so I decided to take a peak
I heard the wind blow hard
and started to shiver with fear
and heard some noises again
but this time I knew I was near
I went into the living room
and noticed my door was opened wide
squeaking back and forth
I laughed so hard I almost cried
So I decided to go back up to my room
When I heard some terrible cries
I rushed to my room real quick
but a ghost stopped me in surprise
I ran and yelled
and I ran outside my house right then
and decided I would never
go back to that house again
At my new house
I turned out the light
you can probably guess
what went on that night
poem by Shaina Lloyd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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