En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Reluctant Visitor

The Reverend Peter Porter Guys
Was a gentle man with anaemic eyes,
Pale blue, that watered wherever he went
From Epiphany, to the fasting of Lent.

He walked the villages of his flock
From door to door, from knock to knock,
And always he mentioned the Organ Fund
To the full of life, and the moribund.

He went from house to house with glee
Consuming hundreds of cups of tea,
And never noticed - and there's the rub,
That 'hubby' had gone to hide at the pub.

The ladies listened with wringing hands
To the trials of Job and the Lord's commands,
And simpered long in the hopes that he
Could give them a personal 'Heaven' key.

Forgive their sins, both now and then
Put in a word with the Lord for them,
Perhaps forgive them a future sin
Or two or three - like a lottery win!

His eyes then watered, the Reverend Guys
He gave no specials, he told no lies,
The road was narrow, the road was straight
With no back alleys to Heaven's Gate.

One day he went to visit the Dunns
They hadn't been to his service once,
Just newly moved from a house in town
They'd come to the country, settled down.

Now Peggy Dunn, she wanted to fit
With the country types of Nether Stitt,
She'd sworn to please, so she asked him in
And they sat in her bright solarium.

His eyes, they watered in there the most
As he talked of the passing Holy Ghost,
While Peggy shuddered and looked askance
At the pot containing her cannabis plant.

Her husband Don was an atheist,
Who didn't believe that gods exist,
'We all came down from a worm, ' he said,
'That turned to a monkey; then we bred! '

His wife was more of a nervous type
Who covered her bets 'til the time was ripe,
'What if he's up there, watching you?
Just keep your voice down, finish your stew! '

So Don had gone out the door at back
As the Vicar came in, a frontal attack,
He hid in the space between the trees
And cursed as the nettles stung his knees.

While Peggy went out to make the tea
The vicar, quite absent-mindedly
Picked off some buds from the cannabis plant
And chewed on them as a ruminant.

The tea was served in her Doulton fine
And the roses seemed to glow like wine,
'Such beautiful cups, ' said a voice in his head,
'Left over from grandma's estate, ' she said.

He looked up startled, could she see in
To the place where the voice spoke only to him?
The room was suddenly silent then,
As the minutes ticked, and the hours began.

He said, 'well maybe I'd better go...'
'Oh must you? ' Then he had answered, 'No! '
He didn't have anywhere else to be,
And telling a lie was a sin, you see.

He settled back in his easy seat
Looked out of the window, drank his tea
Then something caught at his feeble stare,
'There's a man in the bushes, look! Out there! '

'Oh, that's just Don, ' said Peggy Dunn
And glared at her husband to come on in,
He came, but not in the best of moods,
In fact, to the vicar, he was rude.

'Hi Rev, get out of the wrong side bed?
Your collar's on back to front, ' he said,
Then laughed, but the Reverend Peter Guys
Just sat and stared, and watered his eyes.

'Hey Peg, the Reverend needs a feed,
I hope you've asked him to stay to tea! '
What Peg had whispered I won't repeat,
But she said aloud, 'Oh vicar, please! '

'Of course, ' he mumbled, the room it spun,
He couldn't have stood for the Holy One,
Then Don had brought in a cookie plate,
'Get into them, Rev, before it's too late! '

They both ate cookies, and washed them down
With another cuppa in Royal Crown,
But Peggy had glared at Don, aghast,
The cookies were solidly filled with hash.

By eight o'clock on that very night
The Vicar staggered up out of his seat,
'Maybe you'd like to watch TV? '
Don had roared, and the Rev. agreed.

'I would, I would, but I really just....'
'Sit in my chair? Oh please, you must! '
So Reverend Guys in utter despair
Had found himself in a smelly chair;

With cats' hair over each arm, he sat
And waited his chance like a cornered rat,
When Don, his sarcasm running to math
Said, 'wouldn't you like a shower, or a bath? '

Yes, he would, it was true, he cried
He felt unclean, since the cat had died
And left its fur on its master's chair
Who knew what disease was lurking there?

He staggered off like an old, old man
With Peggy holding his trembling hand,
She gave him a towel and a bar of soap
But what he would like was a length of rope.

The bathroom window was way too small
If he got outside he was bound to fall,
But given some rope and by using stealth
At least he could try to hang himself.

He came out dripping, and wearing a robe
Of Don's, the colour of heliotrope,
'You look like you're ready to sleep, ' he said,
'Is there any good reason you can't take my bed? '

The vicar replied a despairing 'No! '
He still couldn't lie - Please ask him to go!
But Don wasn't finished, his sarcasm rife,
'Have you any objections to sleep with my wife? '

The vicar lay snuggled right up to his chin
With a naked Peggy right next to him,
She figured that Don brought it all on himself...
(If he gave her a score out of ten - might as well!)

The Reverend hasn't been spotted of late,
It took him a week there to plan his escape,
He never drinks tea, and will visit no-one
Since causing the split between Peggy and Don.

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peggy Sue

(holly / petty / allison)
If you knew, peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue
Without peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With a love so rare and true.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
I want you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With a love so rare and true.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.

song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue

If you knew peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue without peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, gal,
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With that love so rare and true,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Look out!
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh!

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue

If you knew peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue without peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, gal,
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With that love so rare and true,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Look out!
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh!

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue

If you knew a-peggy sue
Then youd know why I feel blue
My peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, yes I love you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Oh how my heart yearns for you
Oh peggy--my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, yes I love you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue
Oh peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I need you, peggy sue
I love you, peggy sue
With a love so rare and true
Oh peggy--my-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue
My peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
(pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Day

Peggy day stole my poor heart away,
By golly, what more can I say,
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
Peggy night makes my future look so bright,
Man, that girl is out of sight,
Love to spend the day with peggy night.
Well, you know that even before I learned her name,
You know I loved her just the same.
An I tell em all, wherever I may go,
Just so theyll know, that shes my little lady
And I love her so.
Peggy day stole my poor heart away,
Turned my skies to blue from gray,
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
Peggy day stole my poor heart away,
By golly, what more can I say,
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
Love to spend the night with peggy day.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Call From On High

Come into the Church, the Vicar said,
Otherwise you'll be standing in the flowerbed,
Because outside, there really is no space,
It's filled seemingly by the 'whole human race',
So into the Church I made my way,
To sit, to sing and maybe to pray.

The organ was playing loud and clear,
The volume well up, so easy to hear,
With the choir rendering a psalm or two,
I made my way into a pew,
And knelt in reverence as one should,
Feeling infinitely good.

And as I knelt there all alone,
A sudden noise, or should I say tone,
Came to my ear, a sound well known,
Dear Lord, it was my mobile phone.
I felt my body start to freeze,
Kneeling there upon my knees.

I switched it off with rapid speed,
Picked up a hymn book and began to read,
Trying to ignore the stares,
And even more than that, the glares,
Which penetrated my poor back,
Like I'd encountered a shower of flak.

I edged my way along the seat,
Hoping to make my escape complete,
But suddenly the pew was brimming over,
With aliens from another nova,
Who didn't seem to see my plight,
And that now I was turning rather white.

I had to sit the whole service through,
Well you see, what else could I do,
Stuck up against an embroidered banner,
Dedicated to someone called Hannah,
Who passed away in 1907,
And was guaranteed a place in heaven.

At last the Vicar gave his blessing,
My urge to leave was very pressing,
When were these neighbours going to budge,
It was very hard for me to judge
If they would join the growing queue,
To wish the Vicar 'fond adieu'.

By the time that they had all moved out,
I realised without a doubt,
That I was the very last one to stand,
And to have to shake the Vicar's hand,
Who asked me if my 'call' had come from 'on high',
Have you ever felt you wanted to die.

I tried to laugh it off as best I could,
'You'll come again'? he asked, I said I would,
But without my mobile next time, I think,
He smiled at me and gave a 'wink',
Actually I liked him, he was pretty okay,
So, Yes, I'll go there another day.

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Demon under the Altar Stone

As a boy in a ruff and a surplice, gown,
I sang in the choir of a country town,
Under the eye of the Reverend Burr
In a church that had stood for a thousand years.

A church so old that it reeked of damp
From the days of an Anglo-Saxon camp,
They'd built their Church on a Druid site
To banish the wailing ghosts at night!

The Romans had slaughtered the Druid priests
In a river of blood at a Druid Feast,
And still their cries could be heard on nights
When the moon gleamed red by the altar lights.

The beams streamed in through the leadlight glass
With an eerie glow that was overcast,
Illumined the ancient altar stone
That covered the Bishop of Cædmon's bones.

The slab that lay on the floor was lipp'd
As it covered the age-old church's crypt,
And there was a crack, an inch around
Through to the crypt there, under the ground.

From where I sat in the old oak pew
I could see the back of the altar, too,
And through a gap where the floor was bare
Were moving shadows that shouldn't be there!

The crypt had been sealed, eight hundred years
Since the Normans had taken the Saxon Reeves,
Imprisoned them down in the crypt for good
Then walled them in - (so I understood!)

And there they suffered and there they died
The Shire Reeves of the countryside,
And no-one had ever been down there since,
Or disturbed their bones... for the merest glimpse.

The Reverend Burr was hellfire bent,
His sermons called to the sinners, 'Repent! '
He ranted and raved of a jealous God,
And asked why nobody reck'd his rod.

The smell of sulphur hung in the air
After a sermon by Reverend Burr,
And brimstone caught in my nostrils so
That I almost gagged at the horror below.

One Sunday, kneeling at evensong
I stared at the ancient altar stone,
And there I saw, and to my surprise,
A glow that appeared to be two red eyes!

They glowed bright red, and they stared at me
As if I were alone in the gallery,
My mind was full of the vicar's gall,
And I felt that a demon had pawned my soul.

The eyes dropped down in the crypt instead
And shadows moved, to my mounting dread,
So after the service I hurried on home,
As far as I could from that altar stone!

A week went by, and I thought of things,
Convinced they must be imaginings,
So off I went to the choir again,
But just to be safe, I whispered, 'Ben! '

'You see the crack in the altar stone,
Just tell me if I'm the only one,
I saw two eyes in that crack last week,
They scared me so much that I couldn't speak! '

The vicar stood by the altar there
With his bulging eyes and his crazy hair
And he roared and he pounded his fist on down
'Til it shook and it rattled the altar stone.

He spoke of torment and endless grief,
For the sin of pride, and the skulking thief,
For the lover of all material things,
The women who covered their hands with rings!

Adulterers were the scourge of God
And would fall in the cracks of the earth, he said,
While those who harboured an impure thought,
Their hopes of heaven were set at naught.

(But all the while it was widely known
That the vicar had been with the widow Rowan,
She'd visited him at the rectory,
And breakfasted in the Refectory) .

His voice rose up and the altar stone
Began to rumble and then to groan,
I felt Ben tense at the side of me
As the eyes rose up, as red as could be!

The eyes rose up and peered from the gloom
Of the crypt, long cursed by a Druid Moon,
The more the vicar harangued and roared,
The more that it rumbled under the floor.

The doors blew open, the wind blew in
Like a storm raised up from the depths of sin,
The people ran for the path outside,
'You've raised the devil, ' the people cried.

And then the floor it had opened up
Where the vicar stood, he had said enough!
Just for a moment we caught a glimpse
Of the thing in the crypt that we've not seen since!

An evil demon with blood-red eyes,
With hands like hooks of a monstrous size,
And teeth that grinned in the fading gloom,
The vicar fell into that terrible room.

We heard him scream just once down there
The sound of a sinner beyond despair,
And then the demon went down with a drone,
Covered the hole with the altar stone!

That church stood empty, unused for years,
They said that it carried a Druid curse,
But who would go down to the crypt alone,
Or think to disturb the altar stone?

29 June 2009

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peggy

Peggy said good morning and I said good bye,
When farmers dib the corn and laddies sow the rye.
Young Peggy's face was common sense and I was rather shy
When I met her in the morning when the farmers sow the rye.

Her half laced boots fit tightly as she tripped along the grass,
And she set her foot so lightly where the early bee doth pass.
Oh Peggy was a young thing, her face was common sense,
I courted her about the spring and loved her ever thence.

Oh Peggy was the young thing and bonny as to size;
Her lips were cherries of the spring and hazel were her eyes.
Oh Peggy she was straight and tall as is the poplar tree,
Smooth as the freestone of the wall, and very dear to me.

Oh Peggy's gown was chocolate and full of cherries white;
I keep a bit on't for her sake and love her day and night.
I drest myself just like a prince and Peggy went to woo,
But she's been gone some ten years since, and I know not what to do.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Time Has Come...

The vicar went to the valley,
A mountain on either side,
He built a small log cabin
To comfort his future bride,
The wind between the mountains
Brought echoes of far-off plains,
More often than not in the heart of the night,
Someone called his name.

The voice was sometimes muffled,
The voice, it sometimes screamed,
Whole sentences were chanted
Broke in on the vicar's dreams,
The sounds were like a mirage
Half heard from a distant town,
Whenever the wind would begin to rise
He heard the strangest sounds.

A tap-tap-tap in the morning,
A tap-tap-tap at night,
As if someone was typing
Up on the mountain's height,
The rhythm was pervasive
As it typed some ancient log,
He heard the words: 'The quick brown fox
Jumps over the lazy dog.'

He ran from out of the cabin
And scanned the dusty plain,
His trusty dog was lying
Asleep on the track again,
When out from the brittle bushes
Aside of the narrow track,
A quick brown fox with a startled look,
Jumped over his old Ridge-back.

The vicar ran to the cabin
And fell on his knees in prayer,
What are you trying to tell me, lord,
That you're really, really there?
I thought you were, but I wasn't sure,
It'll take some getting used to!
A voice intoned: 'England expects
Each man to do his duty! '

The vicar jumped up off his knees
And praised the lord again,
You've saved my very soul, my lord,
From Hell, and the pits of pain,
I'd thought that God was mine alone,
And not for everyone,
But now I find - and it blows my mind;
'God is an Englishman! '

The wind was slowly rising,
It whined and whooped and roared,
It swooped along the valley,
Came in at the cabin door,
The vicar, sleeping restlessly
Heard everything, hale and hearty:
'The time has come for all good men
To come to the aid of the party.'

The vicar's not been seen of late
He's busy, light and dark,
With hammer, nails, and canvas sails
He's building himself an Ark,
While in a tiny township that
Lies hidden in mountain haze,
A typing teacher has just locked up,
And gone on his holidays.

12 April 2008

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peggy O

Peggy-O
-------
As we rowed up to Fennario,
as we rowed up to Fennario,
Our captain fell in love
with a lady like a dove
and he called her by name, Pretty Peggy-O.
Come steppin' down the stairs Pretty Peggy-O
Come steppin' down the stairs Pretty Peggy-O
Come steppin' down the stairs, holding back your yellow hair
In the hand ??? ??? , William-O.
Will you marry me Pretty Peggy-O?
Will you marry me Pretty Peggy-O?
If you will marry me, I will set your cities free
and free all the people of the area-O.
I would marry you sweet William-O,
I would marry you sweet William-O,
I would marry you but your guineas are too few,
and I fear my mama would be angry-O.
What would your mama think Pretty Peggy-O
What would your mama think Pretty Peggy-O
What would your mama think if she heard my guineas clink
saw me riding at the head of my soldiers-O.
If ever I return Pretty Peggy-O
If ever I return Pretty Peggy-O
If ever I return, all your cities I will burn
Destroy all the people in the area-O.
Come steppin' down the stairs Pretty Peggy-O
Come steppin' down the stairs Pretty Peggy-O
Come steppin' down the stairs, holding back your yellow hair
Bid a last farewell to your William-O.
Sweet William he is dead Pretty Peggy-O
Sweet William he is dead Pretty Peggy-O
Sweet William he is dead and he died for a maid
and he spent the loot he had in the country-O.
As we rowed up to Fennario,
as we rowed up to Fennario,
Our captain fell in love
with a lady like a dove
and he called her by name, Pretty Peggy-O

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pretty Peggy-o

As we rode out to fennario, as we rode on to fennario
Our captain fell in love with a lady like a dove
And called her by a name, pretty peggy-o.
Will you marry me pretty peggy-o, will you marry me pretty peggy-o
If you will marry me, Ill set your cities free
And free all the ladies in the are-o.
I would marry you sweet william-o, I would marry you sweet william-o
I would marry you but your guineas are too few
And I fear my mama would be angry-o.
What would your mama think pretty peggy-o,
What would your mama think pretty peggy-o,
What would your mama think if she heard my guineas clink
Saw me marching at the head of my soldiers.
If ever I return pretty peggy-o, if ever I return pretty peggy-o
If ever I return your cities I will burn
Destroy all the ladies in the area-o.
Come steppin down the stairs pretty peggy-o,
Come steppin down the stairs pretty peggy-o,
Come steppin down the stairs combin back your yellow hair
Bid a last farewell to your william-o.
Sweet william he is dead pretty peggy-o, sweet william he is dead pretty peggy-o,
Sweet william he is dead and he died for a maid
And hes buried in the louisiana country-o.
As we rode out to fennario, as we rode out to fennario
Our captain fell in love with a lady like a dove,
And called her by a name, pretty peggy-o.

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue Got Married

(holly)
Please dont tell, no, no, no.
Please dont tell I told you so.
I just heard a rumor from a friend.
I dont say that its true.
Ill just leave that up to you.
If you dont believe, Ill understand.
Do you recall a girl thats been in nearly every song?
This is what I heard. of course, the story could be wrong.
Shes the one, Ive been told,
cos shes wearing that band of gold.
Peggy sue got married not long ago.
Verse 3
Verse 4
Peggy sue got married not long ago.
Peggy sue got married not long ago.
Peggy sue got married not long ago.
Peggy sue, she got married not long ago.

song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pretty Peggy-o

(first releasetraditional, arranged by bob dylan)
Ive been around this whole country
But I never yet found fennario.
Well, as we marched down
As we marched down
Well, as we marched down to fennario
Well, our captain fell in love
With a lady like a dove
Her name that she had was pretty peggy-o
Well, what will your mother say
What will your mother say
What will your mother say, pretty peggy-o
What will your mother say
To know youre going away
Youre never, never, never coming back-io ?
Come a-running down your stairs
Come a-running down your stairs
Come a-running down your stairs, pretty peggy-o
Come a-running down your stairs
Comb back your hair
Youre the prettiest darned girl I ever seen-io.
The lieutenant he has gone
The lieutenant he has gone
The lieutenant he has gone, pretty peggy-o
The lieutenant he has gone
Long gone
Hes a-riding down in texas with the rodeo.
Well, our captain he is dead
Our captain he is dead
Our captain he is dead, pretty peggy-o
Well, our captain he is dead
Died for a maid
Hes buried somewheres in louisiana-o.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Peggy Is a Young Thing

My Peggy is a young thing,
Just enter'd in her teens,
Fair as the day, and sweet as May
Fair as the day, and always gay.
My Peggy is a young thing,
And I'm not very auld,
Yet well I like to meet her at
The Wawking of the Fauld.

My Peggy speaks sæ sweetly,
When'er we meet alane,
I wish næ mair to lay my care,
I wish næ mair of a' that's rare.
My Peggy speaks sæ sweetly,
To a' the lave I'm cauld;
But she gars a' my spirits glow
At Wawking of the Fauld.

My Peggy smiles sæ kindly,
Whene'er I whisper Love,
That I look down on a' the Town,
That I look down upon a Crown.
My Peggy smiles sæ kindly,
It makes my blythe and bauld,
And naithing gi'es me sic delight,
As Wawking of the Fauld.

My Peggy sings sæ saftly,
When on my pipe I play;
By a' the rest it is confest,
By a' the rest, that she sings best.
My Peggy sings sæ saftly,
And in her songs are tald,
With innocence the wale of Sense,
At Wawking of the Fauld.

poem by Allan Ramsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rednecks

It was down in Jackson County
Back in 1959,
I was sitting in a parking lot
And necking Peggy Jean,
We'd been breathing hot and heavy,
'Til we misted up the windshield,
Then footsteps started walking round
My Daddy's Oldsmobile.

Peggy buttoned up her top, while I
Sat bolt upright, and listened,
Then the door, it sprang wide open
And a hand came reaching in,
Then it grabbed me by the collar,
Dragged me out, although I hollered,
And this guy began to kick me
Like he wants to do me in!

It was dark, but there was moonlight, and
I saw he wore a jersey with
Those hoops of red and white just like
The college football team,
He was big and mean and dopey,
And he tried to grab and choke me
Then he hit me and he bit me, said:
'You like my Peggy Jean? '

She screamed and ran right over
Slapped his face, and yelled: 'You Doofer!
I ain't never been your gal and you
Ain't never been my man! '
So he stopped and stared right at her
Looking mad, like some Mad Hatter,
Then he mumbled that his Peggy Jean:
'She must have cut and ran! '

I took my wounded shoulder to the
Hospital in Boulder, where
They cleaned it, disinfected it,
Then sent me straight back home.
But my head was fairly spinnin'
And my Peggy Jean was grinnin'
'Cos she thought it cute I'd fight for her -
I drove back home alone.

My shoulder wouldn't fix, it
Wept and burned, I scratched, it itched,
And for some days my joints were stiff
As if he'd given me some spore,
But my eyes were twice as bright, I saw
Right through the dark at night,
And I could run, right out of sight
Like I could never run before!

A month went slowly by, as I
Thought up some alibi for why
I hadn't seen my Peggy Jean,
Or phoned and left a note.
But I didn't want to see her, so
She joined the Cheerleaders, then
Went necking with this football guy
To try and get my goat.

But then one day I saw her, in a
Dress, right off the shoulder
And she had a big red love bite
On her neck - No argument!
So I said: 'Them dang mosquito's
Getting big as hot Darito's,
Why, I guess you're now a Redneck, '
And she knew just what I meant.

I lay low about a month, just
Messed around and played a hunch,
Got my Jerry Lee collection up
And Buddy Holly too,
Then I went off to the Prom to see
Just what was going on;
There were rednecks all around me
Like some great big Redneck zoo!

They were multiplying - Heck!
Great big bites on every neck,
And their eyes had gone all yeller
And their teeth were getting long,
And so over grits and chitlins
I asked Grandpaw, who was whittling,
'Have you ever made a silver bullet, Gramps? '
He said: 'You're wrong! '

(I had thought: 'He's getting old,
But he really should be told...')
But he didn't need no telling of
The Rednecks in the town,
He had seen it all before,
Long before the Second War,
And he looked at me, and says:
'Those pesky Vamps are going down! '

'What you need are wooden stakes,
Ash or aspen's what it takes,
Though I thought we'd killed 'em all in
Jackson County's last big wake,
When your father was a lad,
They were here, and things were bad,
But we staked them 'til they filled
The cemetery by the lake

So I told him what I'd seen,
All the Rednecks, where I'd been,
And we took to walking through the woods
To spy on where they're at,
But the moon above was bright,
In its beam I caught a sight
Of my Gramps, as he turned hairy
Right there, underneath his hat.

He dropped down on all his fours
While I felt my face and jaws,
And I suddenly had paws,
Right beneath the haloed moon,
I was soon, to my surprise
Just a wolf, in some disguise,
So we loped downtown together,
Started howlin' out of tune.

'I knew when you were bit
This would be the way of it,
I knew you'd end up one thing or
Another, so it's cool!
But these vampires, they need culling
Cause they're always multiplying, and they
Never learn -
In Jackson County...
Werewolves Rule! '

17 September 2008

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reverend Lee

This is a song about a very big, strong, black, sexy southern baptist minister
Who thinks hes got his program all together, until he meets a lady who lets him know
That he aint got it all together, his name is reverend dr. lee
Reverend lee, he went to the water, and he prayed to the lord
About old satans daughter, it seems in a dream, child, while he lay sleeping
She climbed in his bed, starts rubbing and weeping, ah, she was twisting and turning, hmm
She was begging and pleading, loving and burning, panting, breathing, ooh, ah, ah
Reverend lee, she said, lord knows that I love you child, but I would not even, no, no,
Place God above you, well reverend lee, he lifted his arms high
Said heavenly father, take me home to the sky, he said lord please dont test me
Not down where she touched me, my mind is so hazy
And you know my body is hungry, oh yeah, and then God rolled the thunder
And he hurled the lightening uh, oh, he seemed to be angry
Well it really was frightening, yes he was, oh the thunder grew louder
Darkened conditions, and just then a voice said, God cannot be petitioned
Just then the devil, oh he emerged from the water, and he said in that dry voice
Your God will not barter, reverend lee, he went screaming from the water
And he was hotly pursued by old satans daughter
And she said, she said reverend, ooh, reverend, reverend lee
She said reverend lee, do it to me, she said, she said, uh, reverend lee
(reverend, reverend, reverend, reverend lee), I dont want nobody else to do it
Do it but you, do it, do it, yeah you, do it, do it to me

song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Cemetary Gates

Reverend, reverend,
Is this a conspiracy?
Crucified for no sins
No revenge... beneath me.
Lost within my plans for life,
It all seems so unreal.
Im a man cut in half in this world,
Left in my misery.
(instrumental)
The reverend he turned to me
Without a tear in his eyes.
Its nothing new for him to see,
I didnt ask him why.
I will remember...
The love our souls had sworn to make.
Now I watch the falling rain
All my mind can see now is your (face).
Well I guess
You took my youth
And gave it all away.
Like the birth of a new found joy,
This love would end in rage...
And when she died
I couldnt cry,
The pride within my soul.
You left me incomplete
All alone as the memories now unfold.
Believe the word.
I will unlock my door...
And pass the cemetery gates.
Sometimes when Im alone,
I wonder aloud,
If youre watching over me
Some place far abound.
I must reverse my life
I cant live in the past.
Then set my soul free,
Belong to me at last.
Through all those complex years
I thought I was alone.
I didnt care to look around
And make this world my own...
And when she died
I shouldve cried and spared myself some pain.
You left me incomplete,
All alone as the memories still remain.
The way we were,
The chance to save my soul...
And my concern is now in vain.
Believe the word,
I will unlock my door...
And pass the cemetery... gates
(instrumental)
The way we were,
The chance to save my soul...
And my concern is now in vain.
Believe the word,
I will unlock my door...
And pass the cemetery...
Gates!
Gates!
Gates!

song performed by by Pantera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Christmas Goose

Mr. Smiggs was a gentleman,
And he lived in London town;
His wife she was a good kind soul,
And seldom known to frown.

'Twas on Christmas eve,
And Smiggs and his wife lay cosy in bed,
When the thought of buying a goose
Came into his head.

So the next morning,
Just as the sun rose,
He jump'd out of bed,
And he donn'd his clothes,

Saying, "Peggy, my dear.
You need not frown,
For I'll buy you the best goose
In all London town."

So away to the poultry shop he goes,
And bought the goose, as he did propose,
And for it he paid one crown,
The finest, he thought, in London town.

When Smiggs bought the goose
He suspected no harm,
But a naughty boy stole it
From under his arm.

Then Smiggs he cried, "Stop, thief!
Come back with my goose!"
But the naughty boy laugh'd at him,
And gave him much abuse.

But a policeman captur'd the naughty boy,
And gave the goose to Smiggs,
And said he was greatly bother'd
By a set of juvenile prigs.

So the naughty boy was put in prison
For stealing the goose.,
And got ten days' confinement
Before he got loose.

So Smiggs ran home to his dear Peggy,
Saying, "Hurry, and get this fat goose ready,
That I have bought for one crown;
So, my darling, you need not frown."

"Dear Mr Smiggs, I will not frown:
I'm sure 'tis cheap for one crown,
Especially at Christmas time --
Oh! Mr Smiggs, it's really fine."

"Peggy. it is Christmas time,
So let us drive dull care away,
For we have got a Christmas goose,
So cook it well, I pray.

"No matter how the poor are clothed,
Or if they starve at home,
We'll drink our wine, and eat our goose,
Aye, and pick it to the bone."

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffee

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.

poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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