En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Tattooed Man

He looked like a common sailor
As he wandered up from the port,
Carried his swag on his shoulder,
Wore a cap of the jaunty sort,
His eyes were livid and bloodshot,
Staring, under a tattooed brow,
And on his cheeks, a scatter of stars
As seen from an old ship's prow.

He stopped at the Mariners Arms
And bought a room on the upper floor,
Went out and stood on the balcony,
And stared on down at the square,
He'd left his shirt in the tiny room,
His torso, full in view,
There wasn't an inch of his sailor skin
Untouched by a bright tattoo.

His arms were covered in serpents
Writhing up, and under his chin,
His shoulders, Chinese Characters,
Of Ports, where he might have been,
His sides were covered in fungi
Found in tropical forest glades,
And down on his muscular midriff
The ubiquitous Queen of Spades.

And there on his chest in colours
Very subtle, and so refined,
There lay a naked woman
Baring all as she lay reclined,
Her lips were coloured in scarlet gloss
And pursed in a sensual pout,
Her eyes a searching, brilliant blue
That would find her lover out.

He turned away from the village square
And rested back on the rail,
So now the tattoos across his back
Could be seen... a Schooner's sail,
With storm-filled clouds and a rising swell
As the breakers slid on by,
And over the top, above it all
A piercing, staring eye!

For every passer-by that stared
The eye had stared them back,
Had stared right into the guilty soul
Where every sin was black!
And hairs rose up on the back of the neck,
And shivers ran down the spine,
As guilt drove men to the 'Man of War'
To drown their fears in wine!

And I... I came to the Mariners Arms
And I saw the tattoos there,
And the woman, bared on the sailor's chest
Made me quake and shake in fear,
For the face was unmistakable,
I had left her safe at home,
That face of lust was the woman I trust,
Was the wife I knew as Joan.

For days the sailor prowled the streets
And he peered through windows there,
But he never wore a shirt nor coat,
And he kept his torso bare,
The tattoos seemed to come to life
As he moved, they moved with him,
I saw the serpents flickering tongues
Reach out, and under his chin!

And from his back, the eye stared out
Made strong men weak and quail,
Their knees gave way as it stared them down
And they felt their courage fail,
Then Joan saw him in the market place,
And stood there, hypnotized,
As she stared at the face on the sailor's chest,
And he pierced her, with his eyes.

I saw her enter the Mariners Arms
And I tried to call her back,
But she walked like one in a crazy dream
And I heard her call him, 'Jack...'
They disappeared up the stairway,
Made their way to the upper floor,
I had raced to the top of the stairs when they
Went in, and locked the door.

Out in the street, the clouds rolled in
And the sea beat up on the shore,
The rain came down in a torrent,
Lightning flashed at the old Inn door,
Then he came out on the balcony,
Turned round, and showed his back,
Clung to the mast of the Schooner
There was a woman, dressed in black!

I followed the sailor down the street
In the wind and the pouring rain,
As lightning lit the storm on his back
And the woman screamed in pain,
But on his chest was an open space
And the eye had stared me down,
As he boarded a battered Schooner,
And then sailed away from the town!

24 August 2010

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Spinster At Mass

She came in dressed
in the robe of a mayoress
Her hair, curly and golden
Like that of a Roman goddess
She looked round
Her eyes, large and round
Like that of a fancy bulb.
With them she me espied
In a corner under a deck
of this unnamed Church.
Behold, here's a Pandora
at mass,
As she passed;
Not even the parson
could bypass,
He stood there like a dead
wood and stared and stared
Till his eye balls fell
from its sockets
We stared and stared
And still we stood there
and stared
Till our piety fell.

poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

How’s My Boy?

“HO, Sailor of the sea!
How’s my boy—my boy?”
“What’s your boy’s name, good wife,
And in what good ship sail'd he?”
“My boy John— He that went to sea—
What care I for the ship, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.
“You come back from sea,
And not know my John?
I might as well have ask’d some landsman
Yonder down in the town.
There ’s not an ass in all the parish
But he knows my John.

“How’s my boy—my boy?
And unless you let me know
I’ll swear you are no sailor,
Blue jacket or no,
Brass buttons or no, sailor,
Anchor and crown or no!
Sure his ship was the ‘Jolly Briton’”—
“Speak low, woman, speak low!”
“And why should I speak low, sailor,
About my own boy John?
If I was loud as I am proud
I’d sing him over the town!
Why should I speak low, sailor?”
“That good ship went down.”

“How’s my boy—my boy?
What care I for the ship, sailor?
I was never aboard her.
Be she afloat or be she aground,
Sinking or swimming, I’ll be bound,
Her owners can afford her!
I say, how’s my John?”
“Every man on board went down,
Every man aboard her.”
“How’s my boy—my boy?
What care I for the men, sailor?
I’m not their mother—
How’s my boy—my boy?
Tell me of him and no other!
How ’s my boy—my boy?”

poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Inn of Jasper Shrine

The coast was rugged and storm-swept as
I battled it in the rain,
The cliffs reared up, then fell away
To a flat, deserted plain,
The sea beat up in a thunder on
The rocks that lined the shore,
When I saw the wreck of a wayside inn
And its open, swinging door.

It hadn't appeared on the map, I knew
As I'd studied the bleak terrain,
The thing that I'd come here looking for
Was a wreck from the Spanish Main,
It lay in fifteen fathoms there
With a load of gold moidores,
Chased inshore by a privateer
And sunk, so my uncle swore.

He'd come on some ancient manuscripts
And the log of the Brig ‘Despair',
Washed up a hundred years ago
On the coastline near Llan Fair,
It roamed the seas three hundred years
Without a crew or a sail,
The log said most of the crew were dead
Tipped out by a great white whale.

The bones of the Captain, Peverell,
Lay slumped, right over the log,
It told of the Spanish galleon
And where it went down in the fog,
It told how the whale had tipped the brig
And broken the mast in two,
While the rest of the men had died of thirst
As it drifted, with the crew.

I came to the shelter of the Inn
And could read the swinging sign,
It carried a skull and a bottle of rum
And a name, ‘The Jasper Shrine',
The door hung loose on its hinges and
Gave out a creak and a moan,
The wind howled in at the windows
As the timbers swayed and groaned.

The storm continued to rage outside
At least I was warm and dry,
I lay that night on the upper floor
And stared straight up at the sky,
The thatch had fallen in holes and rain
Came pouring down in a stream,
But I was tucked in a corner, dry,
And there I began to dream.

It must have been two o'clock or so
When I heard a ghostly tap,
Of someone shuffling with a crutch
Then a mighty thunderclap,
A lantern gave out a ghastly light
Threw shadows along the stair,
And then a woman, her voice rang out,
‘Oh what, and who is it there? '

I peered on down and could see the wench
Her bonnet trimmed with lace,
But the burly sailor standing there,
I couldn't quite see his face,
Their dress was that of another time
When pirates sailed the sea,
The sailor brought down his cane with a crash,
‘They call me Cap'n Teague.'

‘Some pottage girl, and a brace of rum
To warm this sailor's cheeks,
My ship's aground and my fate's undone
I'm stranded here for weeks! '
‘You'll need to show me the King's good coin
Before you bite or sup,
I've had you sailors before round here
And you're hard on paying up.'

‘I have a chest of dubloons, ' he said
Moidores, and Spanish lace,
My chest will be here in the morning, girl,
So lift your pretty face,
Shift and get me the vittals that
Will warm my aching bones…'
‘No rum, not even a little, '
Said the girl, and turned to go.

Teague had bellowed and crashed his cane
Across the wench's head,
She fell at the foot of the stairs, and groaned
As her bonnet turned blood red,
‘I'll serve myself you foolish wench
Do you dare to challenge me? '
But the girl had stirred, rolled over
And cried out, ‘By God, you'll see! '

She pulled from out the folds of her dress
An ancient matchlock gun,
Cocked the trigger then aimed and fired
As the Captain turned and spun,
He hit the floor with a cry of pain
And the lantern flew out wide,
The light went out, and all I could hear
Was the sound of the turning tide.

I hid for the rest of the night, afraid
To venture down the stair,
I was cautious still in the morning
Thinking I'd find them dead down there,
But nothing lay in the dawning light
But the sign of time's contempt,
The floor was littered in seaweed and
Some old rat excrement.

My friend came up in a trawler
As we'd planned in the weeks before,
I'd quit the Inn for the final time
Took off through the swinging door,
We never came on the Spanish ship
But the Inn played on my mind,
I wondered, was it a dream or a ghost
At the Inn of Jasper Shrine?

27 November 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Enriched

What was difficult?
A decision made to be me.
A decision to leave,
Everything and everyone...
Who did not grasp,
Their own identity.
And when clarity came,
And stared in my face...
I stood and stared right back!
That was the most difficult thing I did.
And since then...
I recognized,
How many had not done that.
How many,
In fact...
Did not know who or what they were.
And I did not fully realize until I witnessed them...
How long I had been back then,
Like them...
In hiding!
Pretending I knew the life I lived.
But today I do not seek,
Acceptance from anyone to qualify that.
I did not know that finding myself,
Would leave me feeling so enriched!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Bridge

i stared across the bridge,
lantern held high...
searching the trees and
the shadows for a sign.

the surging river below
made my heart stamp its feet;
the wind blew, almost moaned,
the bridge groaned as it swayed.

taking off my boots,
i crossed barefooted and sure.
looking down, i could not see rocks,
but i knew they were there...

on the other side the damp dirt
felt good to my feet...
i followed the path down,
ever down... a wolf howled!

i came to a clearing,
made out the form of your hut...
dark and still, almost a womb.
i made my way to the door,

my trembling hand on the knob...
unlocked, the door opened.
staring around the darkened room,
nothing moved, only a lone candle

on the table beside the bed.
i could feel the stare
of your hungry eyes...
heard you whisper, 'come here! '

a thousand battles,
and journeys untold,
forgotten in the warmth
of your flesh...

new stars formed
in a limitless sky,
fell and shattered
as we loved!

the groan of the earth,
the moan of the wind,
the fury of storms unleashed.
holding back, holding back,

till there was no return...
dissolving into the fire
of your pulsing depths...
and all of life, finished!

with the morning light,
i found myself alone...
got up and dressed
with the ache and the taste...

as i left the hut,
i turned to see the owl...
set my chin, braced my mind,
and walked to face the coming snow!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Song Of The Mermaid

On a day of days
I stood and gazed
Over the western sea
I was completely dazed,
Wide-mouthed and amazed
When a mermaid called to me
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Like a man in a dream,
For an age it seemed
I stood as still as a stone
While the mermaid sang
And her melody rang
Like a memory calling me home
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Then the sea and the wind
And the shores did spin
And though my resistance was strong
All the stars in space
Filled the mermaids face
As she captured my will with her song
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Somehow I spoke --
The enchantment broke
I rubbed my eyes open wide
Like a dream she was gone
All that remained was a song
Borne on the ebbing tide
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy
Ooh-ooooh ooooooooooh, my sunny sailor boy

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

What Matilda Said

Matilda closed the door. Matilda
Saw Millie by the window. Her maid’s
Uniform looked tight at the rear. She
Wanted to place her arms around her
Waist, kiss her neck. Millie turned and
Said, He’s out there with Mrs Dimmable.
Matilda walked to the window and stared.
She sensed Millie beside her; heard her
Breathing, the brush of her sleeve against
Her arm. Looks happy enough, Matilda said
Of Mrs. Dimmable. You didn’t sleep too well
Last night, Millie said, turning, going to the
Bed. She pulled back the covers, smoothed
Out the sheet. Matilda went around the other
Side of the bed and looked at Millie. You were
Tossing and turning, Millie said looking up.
Matilda helped make the bed and said, Sorry
About that. Millie stared at Matilda and said
You murmured words. Did I? Matilda replied.
Yes, Millie said, looking at her hands. What did
I say? Matilda asked. You muttered my name.
Millie stood back from the bed, gazed at Matilda.
You said things. What things? Said you loved me.
Millie blushed at the words. Matilda patted the
Pillow but said nothing. She brushed her hands
Over the covers, pushed away creases. She paused.
Looked at the window. Smelt the flowers in a vase.
Do you? Millie asked. Love me? Matilda stared
Out at Mrs Dimmable and the new gardener.
Her lips wanted to move but nothing came.
Her eyes watered. The world was awash. Millie
Walked to the window, put her arms around Matilda’s
Waist, her fingers formed a knot on Matilda’s stomach.
Matilda placed her hands over Millie’s.
They do look in love and contented don’t they?
Millie said over Matilda’s shoulder. Matilda’s sensed
The warm breath. Yes, she said, they do. Do you?
Millie’s breath uttered softly into her ear, yes.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Stoker

His eyes could pierce my very soul
His scowl could match my frown,
His hatred seemed to lurk beneath
The coal dust on his brow,
The stoker of the 'Antic Queen'
Was sallow, hollow-cheeked,
A voice that echoed, like the clang
Of echoes, from the deep.

He worked the vessel's engine room
Built up a head of steam,
He sprayed each layer of coal across
Like someone in a dream,
It glowed white-hot, he'd slam the door
And cast his shovel clear,
'A pox upon you, Derek Sloane, '
He'd call, when I was near.

I'd make believe I didn't hear,
Go through the bulkhead door
And make my way back up on deck,
I'd heard it all before.
His wife had tired of all his moods
Had eyed me through the crowd,
She'd left the stoker for me then,
The lissom Ann O'Dowd.

She'd always had a roving eye
I knew that from the start,
But reason has no part to play
When love attacks your heart.
We'd had a month of jollity
She'd wrecked my only bed,
When I went back to sea
The lovely Ann had filled my head.

We'd only been at sea a day
When I was sent below,
To see why steam in number two
Was building up so slow,
And then it was I saw O'Dowd,
I'd thought him still ashore,
Or coaling on another ship
En route to Singapore.

He came up to my cabin once
His shift was at an end,
And told me he had plans for Ann,
A coffin for a friend,
Then leered and sneered, 'I've said enough,
But you remember this,
Your Ann's as good as dead, old chum,
Before you leave this ship! '

I brooded on his words for days,
There wasn't any phone,
I couldn't use the radio
Without it being known,
I couldn't tell the Captain as
He wouldn't understand,
I had no proof of anything
That Tom O'Dowd had planned.

We hit the Bay of Biscay and
A fog came rolling in,
You couldn't see a dozen yards
Around the 'Antic Queen',
We cut our speed to seven knots
And edged on through the murk,
The foghorn sounded off and on
The sky was getting dark.

All that night we kept a watch
Until at early light,
A tanker nosing through the fog
Came steaming, out of sight,
She hit us just behind the bridge
And buckled plates without,
I rushed down to the engine room
To put the fires out.

O'Dowd was lying on the coal,
All covered in its dust,
The sea was pouring in too fast
To leave it all to trust,
I swung the heavy metal door
And sealed it from the tide,
O'Dowd jumped up and hit the door,
With terror in his eyes.

He screamed at me to open it,
I watched him through the port,
But regulations told me
To do nothing of the sort,
The ship was the important thing
And sometimes men must die,
But secretly, I smiled within
For Ann was safe and dry.

O'Dowd stood back and stared at me,
And realised his fate,
His wicked eyes stared through me
As the water lapped his feet;
I couldn't hear, but I could see
Him mouth two words of note,
He shouted 'parcel bomb', and drew
His hand across his throat.

The water rose, washed him away
I raced up to the deck,
The ship was listing badly
It would shortly be a wreck,
We got the lifeboats out by chance
Along the starboard side,
And drifted out as 'Antic Queen'
Turned turtle, rose and dived.

Three days it took to get on home
I couldn't contact Ann,
She wasn't answering the phone,
I took a cab, I ran,
I saw the note hand scribbled there
That lay, it seemed like hours,
To read that Ann decided she'd
Be true to all her vows.

She'd gone back to O'Dowd, she said,
Her husband, right or wrong,
I'd be all right, she said, I'd find
Some woman; just be strong.
I raced around to where O'Dowd
Had lived in Ratton Place,
The wall had blown out in the street,
Of Ann, there was no trace.

He'd left a bunch of flowers there,
A present tightly wrapped,
A note to tell his darling wife
That he would take her back;
She must have opened it, I think
A smile, a look serene,
O'Dowd had laughed the final laugh,
Down in the 'Antic Queen'.

20 March 2009

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Flawed Fidelity

‘Life is a great disappointment, ' mused
The sailor on the quay,
And he sighed again, and frowned, and then
Looked sadly out to sea,
‘We start by thinking it wonderful
With a whole wide world out there,
But the world is thin, and it hems you in
If you have no love to share! '

The man he'd met on the promenade
Stood silent by his side,
The sun dipped into the ocean on
Its slow but stately ride,
The Moon, the queen of the evening rose
To light the Milky Way,
‘I shouldn't have gone to sea, but then
She'd have left me anyway! '

The man in the cheap and shoddy suit
Had nodded in the gloom,
His thoughts were locked in the high rise block,
That he'd left that afternoon,
She'd pushed him out on the balcony
Still dressed in her negligée,
‘You'd better not come around again,
He's coming home today! '

‘I thought I could go and roam, while she
Sat patient, waited here,
The love in her eyes had gone, when I
Came back, the following year,
We muddled along for two more years,
She couldn't look in my eyes,
When I asked her who she was seeing
All I got was a pack of lies! '

The man in the cheap and shoddy suit
Thought of his wife at home,
He'd told her about some meeting, but
He'd wandered the streets alone,
Hoping she'd keep their rendezvous
Continue their brief affair,
And he thought of her long and shapely legs
And the fragrance of her hair.

‘Marriage can be a terrible bind,
We think it will last for life, '
He said to the sailor, dredging up
Some thoughts of his faithful wife,
‘But wives get dull with the passing years
And they lose that vital spark,
So a man must find a lover…'
They both nodded, in the dark.

‘I said that I'd meet her here, at six, '
He checked his watch again,
‘She said to stay, she would get away
If she could, by half past seven.'
‘Mine should be any moment now,
Her man has gone for the night,
She says that she's dull and bored at home,
But she's feisty, and she's bright! '

They parted then at the quay, each walked
Some way, then stood in the glow,
Of a dimly lit street standard
Lighting the sombre street below,
Then a woman walked up to the sailor,
Gave him kisses, long and deep,
While the man in the cheap and shoddy suit
Went pale, and began to weep!

22 August 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Hand of Tong Bao Lin

I stood in front of the guillotine
And paled at the sharpened blade,
The motor hummed as my mind went numb
And my body shook and swayed,
The sweat poured into my open eyes
And blinded and burned like sin,
But I had no choice, I had to be free
Of the Hand of Tong Bao Lin.

I'd worked in China for seven years
In the city of old Qingdao,
If I hadn't been such a hero, I
Would still be working there now;
But I got involved in a scuffle there
When a woman was being attacked,
He'd snatched her bag and I snatched it too,
So he turned on me, and hacked.

I'd heard of the mean Hand-Chopper Gang,
Just petty crims on the whole,
They stole whatever was not nailed down,
Just handbags, wallets and gold,
But they carried machetes under their coats
For the woman who fought like mad,
If she wouldn't let go, they'd chop off her hand
And carry it off with the bag.

I stood in shock, and stared at my wrist,
While he took off, scot free,
My hand still clutching the shoulder strap
But it wasn't attached to me,
I bled all over the pavement there,
Collapsed in a bloody heap,
I only discovered my hand was gone
When I woke from a troubled sleep.

The doctors there were marvellous,
They tidied it up no end,
But it isn't much consolation when
You can't shake hands with a friend,
I'd just about been resigned to it
When in walked Doctor Chu,
He was something to do with the government,
Said - 'I need to talk with you! '

'Let's say that it's just an experiment,
Long odds, but you may just win,
Get you a working hand again,
Though one with a yellow skin.'
I signed the form with my one good hand
And put myself in his care,
If I'd known back then what I know today...
I'd have put an axe through his hair!

They took me away that very night
To a place both dread and grim,
To one of those Chinese Prisons where
You're dead if they let you in.
They housed me there in the hospital
And treated me better than those,
The walking dead in the prison beds
Who all wore the orange clothes.

The prison was only for murderers,
And those with a capital crime,
Whose fate was lead in the back of the head
It was only a question of time.
I heard men scream as I tried to sleep,
And many a Chinese curse,
But they filled me full of some sedative,
And this only made it worse.

I dreamt as I slept there fitfully
Of a man who was chained to his bed,
As the surgeons sliced at his body there,
His screams still ring in my head;
His face contorted, he looked at me
And managed an evil grin,
As they surgically took his hand, he said:
'You be sorry... I Tong Bao Lin! '

The fever lasted for days, I think,
I thought I'd never wake up,
But then one morning my mind was clear
And my arm was bandaged up,
Slowly, slowly I felt the hand
That they'd grafted onto my wrist,
I should have been grateful then, I know,
But I slowly became obsessed.

It healed at last, took many months,
But it worked, and didn't feel strange,
I carried the hand of a dead man now
But then it began to change,
I found it reached for a woman's purse
In a shop where she'd dropped it there,
And it gripped it fast when she snatched it back,
It was more than I could bear.

I fled outside in confusion, and
Made tracks for a backstreet den,
I had no idea what drew me there
But found it was opium;
They lay around with those long, clay pipes
And the hand, it reached for one,
I knew right there I would have to share
My life with Tong Bao Lin.

The hand, it reached into pockets when
I walked on my usual beat,
It seemed attracted to shiny things
And fondled the girls on the street,
It drew me into the thickest crowds
Did things that would bring me shame,
And I'd thrust it deep in my pocket then
For the sake of my own good name.

The hand was marred by a strange tattoo
A serpent with wings, on the thumb,
When traders saw it they veered away
And one of them pulled a gun.
I stayed at home and I locked the door
And I slowly became depressed,
The hand would pound on the wall, the floor
And the lid of a rosewood chest.

A Chinese man came to call one day,
Bowed low, and I let him in,
In broken English I heard him say:
'I lookin' for Tong Bao Lin! '
He stared on down at the yellow hand,
And looked at the old tattoo,
'Bao Lin! ' he pointed, 'an evil man!
You know what you have to do! '

And so, I stand by the guillotine,
The sweat pours into my eyes,
It takes two buttons to start the blade,
There's a demon to exorcise.
I place my wrist on the cutting line
And the man says, 'Let's begin! '
I push the button, and so does he,
The brother of Tong Bao Lin.

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Name Sakes

BUT where's the brown drifter that went out alone ?
-Roll and go, and fare you well-
' Was her name
Peggy Nutten?
' That name is my own.
Fare you well, my sailor.
They sang in the dark, ' Let her go ! Let her go ! '
And she sailed to the West, where the broad waters flow;
And the others come back, but . . . the bitter winds blow.
Ah, fare you well, my sailor.

The women, at evening, they wave and they cheer.
-Roll and go, and fare you well-
They're waiting to welcome their lads at the pier.
Fare you well, my sailor.
They're all coming home in the twilight below;
But there's one little boat. . . . Let her go ! Let her go!
She carried my heart, and a heart for the foe.
Ah, fare you well, my sailor.

The
Nell
and the
Maggie
, the
Ruth
and the Joan,

-'-Roll and go, and fare you well-
They come to their name-sakes, and leave me alone.
Fare you well, my sailor.
And names are kep' dark, for the spies mustn't know;
But they'll look in my face, an' I think it will show;
Peggy Nutten's my name. Let her go ! Let her go!
Ah, fare you well, my sailor.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Vote! | Copy!

The Return of Jonathon Grise

I stood on the porch
Like one in a daze,
And stared at the oak panelled door,
She'd shut it so quietly, there, in my face
That I just couldn't take it on board.
Her face was composed, but determined I knew,
Dismissive, but what could it mean?
The wedding we'd planned for the Spring was no more
Said the love of my life, Annie Deane!

I stumbled on out
In the gathering gloom,
And winter crawled into my heart,
The night was a portent of shadows and doom
As an owl fluttered past in the dark,
Storm clouds were filling the evening sky
And the wind set its wail in the trees,
The name of a monster was echoed out there,
The name of one, Jonathon Grise!

He'd come to the village
On just such a night,
Had stopped at the old village Inn,
The brim of his hat hid his face from the sight
Of the publican, signing him in,
He had an old trunk that he dragged to his room,
A magical symbol on top,
The publican smelt some old incense he burned
So he went up, and told him to stop.

I never was told
What was said when he knocked,
The publican staggered back down,
His face and his hair had turned grey, so they say,
When asked, the old man had just frowned.
He never said anything more on the case,
But bowed when he passed, to keep peace,
I sensed something evil, unclean in the man
That we all knew as Jonathon Grise.

He never went out
In the daytime, we knew,
But pottered about in the dark,
His cloak would be seen flaring out in the wind
As he strode through the trees in the park,
He bought the old cottage that stood by the shore
Moved in, with a rottweiler hound,
We dared not approach, or the dog would come out,
Bare its teeth, and start sniffing around.

He was watched by the locals,
But never approached,
And he never spoke to a soul,
He seemed quite content on his own in the dark
When the nights were both clammy and cold.
Then one foggy night I saw Widow McLean
Walking down to his house from the fells,
She walked in a daze, and her eyes, they were glazed
As she carried her basket of spells.

Long thought to be harmless,
A lonely old witch,
She knocked at his door in the gloom,
Then entered and stayed for an hour or more
Concocting her spells in his room,
I asked how she knew him, the mystery man
On the following day in the square,
She shivered, looked frightened, and held up one hand,
'I never was... never was there! '

Barely a month had
Gone by since the gloom
Of rejection had landed on me,
The heart that had loved had turned into a tomb
For the love that had set us both free.
Then rumours were whispered that in the Great Hall
The banns had been read and released,
The banns for the wedding of my Annie Deane
With that horror called Jonathon Grise!

My mind couldn't take it,
I tore at my hair,
I ripped at my coat and my shirt,
I drank a whole bottle of whisky off straight
In the hopes it would kill off the hurt,
I wondered how long since the two of them met,
And drunkenly swore my revenge,
I set off to squeeze all the truth from the throat
Of the visiting Widow from Henge.

She screamed when she saw me
Burst in through her door,
I looked like a figure from hell,
What spell had she cast there for Jonathon Grise?
She finally said she would tell.
'The man is pure evil, I met him before,
I met him before you were born,
He came on the night of a westerly gale,
Cast out from a Barque in the storm.'

'I think he deserted,
He wore seaman's clothes,
He never went back to the sea,
He married a woman, and left her in child,
A woman you'll never believe! '
'Just try me, ' I snarled, 'so he's done it before,
And now thinks he'll do it again! '
'Ah yes, but that happened when I was a child,
I couldn't have been more than ten! '

I stopped in my tracks
And I looked at her face,
The Widow was wrinkled and old,
She must have been seventy-seven or eight,
I felt all my innards run cold.
'You must be mistaken, this Jonathon Grise
Must only be thirty or so...'
'The man is the same, ' said the Widow, 'his name
Is the Sailor Who Never Grows Old.'

I sat for a moment
To gather my thoughts,
'You say that he married close by? '
'Ah yes, that he did, but the woman he wed,
In the churchyard, now, she lies! '
'Just tell me her name and I'll leave you in peace, '
I replied, with a portent of fear,
'Her name was Helene, and the child Richard Deane,
Your Annie's Great Grandfather, dear! '

I dropped like a thunderbolt
Onto the hearth,
I couldn't stand up for my life,
The devil had spawned the Great Grandfather
Of the woman he'd have for his wife.
My heart, it burst, and a thousand tears
Came flooding from deep within,
There must be a way to send Jonathon Grise
Back down to the devil's kiln.

I sat with the Widow
For thirteen days,
We read every spell in her book,
On the morning before Annie's wedding bells rang
She tossed all her charms in the brook.
'You said he deserted a ship once, at sea,
Do you have a drowned sailors spell? '
Her eyes had gleamed, old Widow McLean
As she lifted a caul from the well.

That night the moon
Stayed in, and hid,
The stars, they gave up their lease,
A mist came rolling on in from the sea
To the cottage of Jonathon Grise,
A groaning and creaking of timbers and masts
And the plash of the oars then grew,
The longboats, sent from the ghostly Barque
Rowed in with a ghostly crew.

They dragged him swearing
Away to the beach,
He cursed at the Barquentine,
They threw him into a longboat there,
And then he began to scream,
I watched as the ghostly sailing ship
Hove to in the rising swell,
While Jonathon hung from the yardarm there
At last, on his way to Hell.

28 January 2009

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Monster & Captain Kreel

We were out in the North Atlantic
When the storm began to blow,
We reefed in the tops and gallants so
We wouldn't end down below,
The ship was tossed in a fury,
The mate was strapped to the wheel,
There wasn't a dry man left aboard,
Not even Captain Kreel.

The Captain, he was a bully,
He would flog 'til his arm was sore,
He drove the men at their stations 'til
They couldn't have taken more,
He kept a rope at the yardarm,
A warning to every man,
His word was not to be questioned if
A tar didn't want to hang!

Each wave was a liquid mountain
That crashed on the after deck,
The wind was a screaming banshee that
Would threaten, despair and wreck,
When out from below there came a scream,
A woman, so fair of face,
But the Captain swore an ugly oath
That the ship was in disgrace!

The wife of an able seaman,
He'd smuggled the girl aboard,
He'd thought he could keep her hidden there
Until they went ashore,
But the men with their superstitions
Then blamed her for the storm,
They seized her, dragged to the gunnels
And would hurry her overboard!

The Captain barked out an order,
The jack tars staggered back,
They wouldn't defy their Captain if
The ship was under attack!
The mate then seized the woman
And bared her at the breast,
Turned her to face the heaving sea
As she stood there, half undressed.

Bare breasted, like the figurehead
They carried on the prow,
A woman was known to calm the seas
If she shamed its gods somehow,
The wind died down in the stays and yards
And the sea died down as well,
But she little knew as she covered up
She approached the gates of hell!

The seaman was court-martialled,
Up there, on the quarter deck,
Where the Captain gave no quarter,
It was keel haul, or his neck!
They tied the rope around his chest
And flung him overboard,
We heaved on the rope, and prayed he'd hold
His breath 'til he came aboard.

We dragged him under the water,
And felt him under the keel,
The rope was a little bit lighter
Than the brow of Captain Kreel,
For he was a livid monster
Who just wanted the seaman dead,
His plans for the wife were plain to see
As he sent her to his bed!

The seaman's body surfaced,
It wasn't going well,
We hauled him over the side of the ship
'Til we caught a glimpse of hell,
The rope was knotted about his chest
And twisted around his neck,
There was nothing at all below the waist,
As his entrails sprayed the deck!

Even the Captain blanched at this
But he motioned us away,
'Toss the remains all overboard
Then swab the decks - Belay! '
We wondered how Jones was cut in half,
It couldn't have been the keel,
But kept our mutterings to ourselves,
For fear of the monster, Kreel.

Out on the starboard side we saw
A giant head appear,
Just as the body hit the waves
It reared, and sniffed the air,
Then pounced on the human morsel,
Picked it up in its savage jaw,
As we shrank on back at its evil eye
It gave out a primitive roar.

There wasn't a moment from then on
We weren't all chilled inside,
The monster followed and circled us
As we rode the heaving tide,
It must have been eighty feet or more,
A great, carnivorous beast,
The serpent had tasted human flesh
And we were a human feast!

The wind had dropped, the sails were limp,
We couldn't sail for home,
We were caught in the theme of a nightmare dream
Where the beasts of the world could roam,
The Captain kept to his cabin then,
We could hear the woman plead,
With a monster within, a monster without
We were caught in a monstrous creed.

'It's all the fault of that woman there! '
I knew what the ratings thought,
'We need to be throwing her overboard
To escape the luck she brought! '
The mate came down and roused them out,
'There'll be no talk of this,
We have to get under sail tonight
When the wind begins to rise.'

The Captain showed on the quarter-deck
Just after the seventh bell,
The sun was down in the west, the moon
Was riding high, as well.
We raised the sails as the shadows loomed,
Unfurled topgallant stays,
I was watching the Captain against the moon
His back to the after rail.

The serpent's head loomed large above
The figure of Captain Kreel,
The hairs rose up on the back of my neck
As I watched the shadows steal.
It opened up with its mighty jaw
Clamped down on the Captain's head,
Lifted him clear of the quarter deck
As he screamed - 'Oh God! I'm dead! '

We never saw Captain Kreel again,
But nobody seemed to care,
We sailed for the Falkland Islands then,
And we left the woman there,
I heard she married again, sometime,
To a sailor known as Kip,
And dreams of her home in Pompey, but -
They won't let her onto a ship!

24 December 2009

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Strip Jack!

We'd been caught out in the yacht that day,
A storm blew up in the lee,
The clouds had gathered at four o'clock
In the wake of a rising sea,
'It's looking grim, ' I had said to her
As we spun the bows around,
And headed in to the distant shore
As the first of the rain came down.

The sun went in and the sky was black
As I reefed the sail in short,
While Linda pulled in the spinnaker,
And clung to the rail's support,
She made her way to the cabin then
As my phone began to ring,
I heard, 'It's done! ' and my mind went numb,
It was time to do my thing!

She stood with her back toward me as
I lunged with the marlin spike,
She dropped like a faded butterfly
In search of its last midnight,
I dragged her out to the afterdeck
And bound her up in the chain,
Then sent her down with the anchor where
She never would wake again!

I cast off the anchor chain and then
I retched all over the deck,
It had to be done, I told myself,
And I thought of her cousin, Beck,
She'd done the deed we'd agreed upon,
Had seen off her husband, Ben,
So Beck would be mine to have and hold
As I'd dreamed and I'd schemed, back when.

We'd always been close, the four of us,
Had holidayed in the snow,
We'd sat in a dark secluded bar
In the aftermath of a show,
We'd played Strip Jack in the garden 'til
The women were stripped to the waist,
Then each of us swapped, and went to bed,
And woke to a different face!

We thought we could get away with it,
Old friends, just casual sex,
We'd been together so long, we had
No clue what would happen next,
I thought that Linda was furtive,
Making eyes at Ben in the dark,
And I was caught in a whisper then,
With Beck in our local park.

Then Ben and I found the silences
Embarrassing, hard to bear,
Where once we'd laughed and we'd joked
That camaraderie wasn't there,
Then Beck had told me he'd soured on her,
And Linda, too, went strange,
So when we swapped, we schemed and planned
With our partners out of range.

'I think he's planning to murder me, '
Said Beck, on a tearful night,
When she curled up tight in the sheets and cried,
And seemed in an awful plight,
'I wonder what they're planning now, '
She said, in the early dawn,
Then I thought of Linda's silences,
And Ben, and I felt forlorn.

Then Beck had told me she loved me so,
And drove me out of my mind,
I knew that I'd do most anything
For the wife of my former friend,
She said one day that she had a plan,
To rid herself of Ben,
'But you must do what you have to do
When I phone, and tell you when! '

I tied the yacht to the outer Quay
Drove homeward, just as we'd planned,
I thought to report the following day
That she'd left for another man,
But when I opened the old front door
I saw them sitting there,
Both Ben, alive, in the dining room,
And Beck with a frightened stare!

'Where's Linda, ' Ben was the first to speak,
And I just froze - he knew!
But Beck said, 'I tried phoning her,
I thought she was with you.'
And then she showed me the frosted cake
She'd worked on all day through,
'It's for your anniversary,
She'd planned a surprise for you! '

I pulled the cell phone out, and stared,
The phone had been my wife's,
My own I'd left in the den downstairs,
That message cost her life.
'It's done! ' meant the anniversary cake,
I hadn't said a word,
Now Ben looked long and hard at me,
'Where's Linda? ' - then he stared!

I said that she must be out somewhere,
Then opened a cask of wine,
Sat back, as Ben filled the tumblers full
I knew, for the final time.
'Here's to your anniversary, '
He said, as we drank the toast,
And I thought I could see by the window there
The shape of my Linda's ghost.

But Beck had choked on the wine, and gasped,
Her mouth a purple hue,
She stared and sighed in a faint surprise
As the truth came into view.
'She's dead, my friend, did you think I'd lend
My wife for the sake of yours?
I knew the play and it ends today,
Where's Linda - Dead? Of course! '

There wasn't another word to say,
We sat and drank in the dark,
With Beck spread over the table like
Some rag doll, left in the park.
I read the anniversary card
That Linda had left for me:
'To the only man I have ever loved...
On our anniversary! '

14 February 2010

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Japan

I saw a young man by a telephone
He was sitting alone in the rain
I said, hey, young man what you doing here?
He said, sir, Im going insane
See I love an american beauty
But nobody here understands
So he looked to the sky with resentment in his eyes
And said, lord, why am I in japan?
Lord why am I in japan?
He told me a story about yesterday
How he walked in the search of a friend
But nobody came to his rescue
So he came to his bitter end
He pulled me close and said
They all stopped and stared
As I walked down the street alone
And nobody knew my name
Nobody knew my name
I said, young man I know where youre going
And young man I know where youve been
But Ive been in this land for a lifetime, it seems,
And Im never to come back again
No, Im never to come back again
So I turned and I gave him my blessing
And I left him alone in the rain
But I had to just stop and laugh at myself
Still nobody knows my name
Nobody knows my name

song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Courting Disaster

I was twenty-three when I saw her first,
Without a word of a lie,
She had wandered into the woods by me
With a basket, held on high,
Her auburn hair reflected the sun
And she flashed me a dazzling smile,
That turned my head to the way she led
As I followed her, over the stile.

She skipped along at a steady pace
Weaved in and out through the trees,
Collected the broad-rimmed mushrooms there
As she stopped, and fell to her knees,
Her dress flared out as it caught the wind
And her hair was floated wide,
I hid by a tree, and held my breath
As I thought of her, as a bride.

She had such a look of innocence,
Was free as the birds of the air,
The legs and the grace of a peasant girl
Brought up in the great out-there,
She ran right up to a Woodsman's house
That was hidden by branch and vine,
Then danced right in through the open door,
And then I knew; she was mine!

The door was closed when I finally knocked
But I heard a terrible moan,
And minutes later the door unlocked,
In the hall stood a fusty crone,
She stared at me through her hoary eyes
With never a hint of grace,
‘What do you want? ' she growled at me,
For the shock must have shown in my face.

‘That girl, who danced in a moment back,
I'm here to discover her name.'
‘There is no girl, ' said the ancient hack,
‘You'd better return where you came! '
‘I saw her enter, I must insist,
I'll not be gulled by your lies! '
‘That girl's been dead for a long time back,
You'd better leave now, if you're wise! '

She slammed the door in my face just then
So I wandered back through the trees,
A raincloud covered the midday sun
And I felt the chill of a breeze,
The rain came down as I walked back home,
Climbed over the ricketty stile,
Was drenched to the skin as I wandered in,
And thought to resort to guile.

For days I lingered by that old track,
The place that I'd seen her first,
I felt so miserable, holding back,
As I thought, and feared for the worst,
What if the girl was a sprite, who'd died,
Just as the old crone said?
Try as I might, I couldn't believe,
Nor get her out of my head.

I finally went to the Woodsman's house
And I hid in a patch by the vine,
When suddenly out of the door came tripping
The girl, with her eyes a-shine,
She skipped away with her basket, filled
With linen and loaves and cheese,
And I caught her then in a shady glade
As she stopped, and fell to her knees.

‘I hoped you'd come, ' were the words she said
As she laid a cloth on the ground,
‘I have to hide from that grey old witch
So I go where I'll never be found.'
She broke the bread and she poured the wine
And we ate and drank in the glade,
My mind was filled with a sudden chill
But I thought of fun in the shade.

‘So when are you going to kiss me, then? '
She said when we finished our feast,
‘I've fed your animal spirits, now,
It's time I was paid, at least! '
I kissed her there in the shady glade
And we tumbled there in the leaves,
Then I fell asleep, and she'd gone when I
Awoke, and the heart, it grieves.

I stumbled home, but was feeling faint
I had aches and pains in my head,
I staggered through to the bedroom, then
I found her asleep in my bed,
She woke and sat, and she stared at me
But her face had begun to change,
There were lines and wrinkles around her eyes
And her hair was grey with age.

‘I need you now that my time is short,
Come and rest your weary head, '
I caught a glimpse in the mirror then
And it filled me full of dread,
For the face of a man of middle age
Stared back at me from the glass,
‘Just what have to done to me? ' I said…
‘Do you really have to ask? '

‘I fed on your animal needs, and you
Gave something to set me free,
If you want me to be a bright young thing
Then you must replenish me.'
I saw she aged by the minute there
And she soon let out a moan,
For lying in bed was a figure of dread,
That hoary old witch, the crone!

I'm far too weak to get out of bed,
But Elli goes out on her own,
She carries her basket into the wood
For the mushrooms she eats alone,
My beard is grey and I dread each day
As she bleeds my life from its core,
But she's as lovely as ever she was
At a hundred and twenty-four!

26 October 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Check

The night was creeping on the ground;
She crept and did not make a sound
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and sole again
Along the grass beside the wall.

I heard the rustle of her shawl
As she threw blackness everywhere
Upon the sky and ground and air,
And in the room where I was hid:
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without,
She could not put my candle out.

So I stared at the night, and she
Stared back solemnly at me.

poem by James Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Check

The night was creeping on the ground;
She crept and did not make a sound
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and sole again
Along the grass beside the wall.

I heard the rustle of her shawl
As she threw blackness everywhere
Upon the sky and ground and air,
And in the room where I was hid:
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without,
She could not put my candle out.

So I stared at the night, and she
Stared back solemnly at me.

poem by James Brunton Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Now That I Found You

All my life I've been searching for someone like you
The one who inspired me to laugh even though I' m tried
The one who make up my day when she smiled
The one who I really want to spend my whole life with.

The face that you will never left to see
The eyes that say I love you when they stared
The lips of an angel that you will always wanted to kiss
each and everyday
The angelic face that made me fall in love over and over

Your the one who I really wanted to be the half of my heart
That when your gone it will never beat...it will die
Maybe I'm stupid...a little crazy... but its true,
its my heart telling me to love you...

I' m in love with you since the day I stared at you
I'm in love since the day I found my self smiling even though I'm alone
I' m a little bit crazy...crazy in love... in love with you

I love the way you act
I love the way you smile
the way you drive me crazy

I really don't know...
Now that I found you.

poem by Lean Punio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!