Jiang Village
Red evening clouds are mountainous in the west
and the sun's feet disappear under the horizon.
Sparrows noisy over the brushwood door.
I am a traveler home after a thousand miles.
My wife and children are startled to see me alive.
The surprise ends but they can't stop wiping tears.
In the chaotic world I was tossed about;
I've found my way home, alive by accident.
Neighbors crowd over our garden walls.
They are moved, sighing and even weeping.
In deep night we hold candles,
facing each other as if in dream.
I live my late years as if I've stolen my life.
Very few joys after I returned home.
My little son never lets go of my knees,
afraid I will go away again.
I remember I liked to chase cool shade,
so I walk under trees by the pond.
Whistling, the north wind is strong,
I finger past events and a hundred worries fry in my mind.
However, the crops are harvested,
wine spurts from the mouth of the flask
and I have enough to fill my cups
and console me in my dusk.
A group of chickens make chaos
and fight each other as guests arrive.
I drive them up bushes and trees,
before I hear knocking on my brushwood gate:
four or five village elders greet me
and ask about my long absence.
Each of them brings a gift in hand.
Their wines pour out, some clear, some muddy.
They apologize for their wine, so watery,
as there was no one to grow millet.
Weapons and horses can't rest yet;
the young men are gone on the expedition east.
I offer a song for my old village folks,
feeling deep gratitude.
After singing, I sigh and throw back my head
and tears meander down our faces.
Related quotes
The Sailor's Garden
There's a soft wind singing in the idle rigging,
High tide splashing, and a young pale moon,
Lights in a window and a fiddle jigging
Over and over there the same short tune.
Oh, was it the tide along the ship's side sighing,
Or was it the sighing wind that breaths and blows,
Came like a voice across the deep crying,
Set my heart a-thinking how my garden grows?
Five years ago it was I planted roses,
Five years ago (the bush is grown a tree):
Five years ago, and once I've seen my posies,
Five years ago - and once they bloomed for me!
I was home in Spring, bloom was in May then,
Birds all were building and buds were on the tree!
When the birds were flown, oh, I was far away then;
When the rose was open I was far at sea.
I was home in autumn; winds of cold November
Shaking the leaf that shivered on the tree;
Brown leaves that sighed of sorrow to remember
Flowers that had fallen and I far at sea.
Oh, many are the roads that lead you here and yonder,
Oh, many are the ways about the world that go;
But the longest way of all's the sailor's way to wander
To the good North Country and an Isle I know.
Oh, many are the winds about the seas a-singing,
Oh, many are the songs they sing both night and noon:
But whether it be good or ill that they come bringing
The best of all's the wind that blows us home in June.
Home, home in June - and soon to be a-going;
Home, home in June - we may not long remain;
Home, home in June, just to see the garden growing,
And then fare you well till you greet us home again.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Five Hundred Miles Away From Home
(bobby bare, charlie williams, hedy west)
Tear drops fell on mamas note
When I read the things she wrote
She said, we miss you girl
We love you come on home
Well I didnt have to pack
I had it all right on my back
Now Im five hundred miles away from home
Chorus:
Away from home, away from home
Cold and tired and all alone
Yes, Im five hundred miles away from home
Its hard to tell the state Im in
Where Im going, where Ive been
But theres a dream Ive been following so long
If mama knew the things Ive done
Shed forgive them everyone
But Im still five hundred miles away from home
Repeat chorus
Cant remember when I ate its just thumb and walk and wait
And Im still five hundred miles away from home
If my luck had been just right Id be with them all tonight
But Im still five hundred miles away from home
Repeat chorus
Lord, Im still five hundred miles away from home
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Have They Done To Me
What have they done to me
To the air that I breathe and all I see
Diseased and abused and alone
Tell me what have they done to me
They took everything I had
And crushed it all into dust
Erased all my names so I would seem
So lost
So lost
So lost
I pulled myself from my woman
To wander through the night
I'm a long, long way from emptiness
So step aside
Am I to feel alive
Am I to feel alive
Am I to feel alive
But I nearly died
Am I to see the light
Am I to see the light
But I cried
For so long
So long
What have they done to me
To the birds that sing, yeah the simple things
I held all my curses
I can't seem to rest
But it's alright
It's alright
They took from me all that one could take
My children
My loves
My orchards of tears
It's all been borrowed so we must say
They sit in the kingdom of light
And now you know how one can be
As free as one could wanna be
Cause time won't let you walk away
Time won't let you be afraid
So don't be afraid
For too long
Too long
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
But I nearly died
Am I to see the light
Am I to see the light
But I cried
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
But I'm almost home
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
But I nearly died
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
But I nearly died
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
But I'm almost home
Yeah, I'm almost home
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
But I nearly died
Yeah, I nearly died
So long
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem For Wei Ba
Often a man's life is such
that he seldom sees his friends,
like the constellations Shen and Shang
which never share the same sky.
If not this evening, then what evening
should we share this lamp light?
How long can our youth and vigor last?
The hair at our temples is already gray.
We inquire about old acquaintances
to find that half are ghosts--
shocked cries betray
the torment of our hearts.
How could I have known
that it would be twenty years
before I again entered
your honored home.
When we parted last
you were yet unmarried;
now your sons and daughters
line up in a smiling row
to greet their father's friend.
They ask whence I have come
but before I can answer all questions
you chase them off
to bring wine and cups.
In the night rain, chives are cut
for the freshly steamed rice
mixed with yellow millet.
Saying how difficult it has been
for us to meet at last,
you pour ten cups in a row!
But even after ten cups
I'm not drunk, being so moved
by your lasting friendship.
Tomorrow we will be separated
by the peaks of mountains,
each of our worldly affairs
lost to the other's sight.
Home Ain't Where The Heart Is
he knew how to reach me deep inside
and he found a part of me i could not hide
and we'd walk and talk and touch tenderly
then he'd lay me down and make love to me
we built a love so strong and couldn't break
there was not a road we were afraid to take
and we'd kiss all the way from arkansas to rome
'cause in each other's arms we were home sweet home
but he don't feel the same
since our lives became
years of bills babies and chains
home ain't where his heart is anymore
he may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
but he don't lay his head down to love me like before
home ain't where his heart is anymore
if foundations made of stone can turn to dust
then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust
if he could only find that feeling once again
if we could only change the way the story ends
and he may still come home
but i live here alone
the love that built these walls is gone
home ain't where his heart is anymore
he may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
but he don't lay his head down to love me like before
he don't lay his head down to love me like before
home ain't where his heart is anymore
no home ain't where his heart is
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Ain't Where His Heart Is
He knew how to reach me deep inside
And he found a part of me i could not hide
And we'd walk and talk and touch tenderly
Then he'd lay me down and make love to me
We built a love so strong and couldn't break
There was not a road we were afraid to take
And we'd kiss all the way from arkansas to rome
'cause in each other's arms we were home sweet home
But he don't feel the same
Since our lives became
Years of bills, babies and chains
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
He may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
But he don't lay his head down to love me like before
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
If foundations made of stone can turn to dust
Then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust
If he could only find that feeling once again
If we could only change the way the story ends
And he may still come home
But i live here alone
The love that built these walls is gone
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
He may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
But he don't lay his head down to love me like before
He don't lay his head down to love me like before
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
No, home ain't where his heart is
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad of the Army Carts
The carts squeak and trundle, the horses whinny, the conscripts go by, each
with a bow and arrows at his waist. Their fathers, mothers, wives, and children
run along beside them to see them off. The Hsien-yang Bridge cannot be seen for
dust. They pluck at the men's clothes, stamp their feet, or stand in the way
weeping. The sound of their weeping seems to mount up to the blue sky above. A
passer-by questions the conscripts, and the conscripts reply:
``They're always mobilizing now! There are some of us who went north at
fifteen to garrison the River and who are still, at forty, being sent to the
Military Settlements in the west. When we left as lads, the village headman had
to tie our head-cloths for us. We came back white-haired, but still we have to
go back for frontier duty! On those frontier posts enough blood has flowed to
fill the sea; but the Martial Emperor's dreams of expansion remain unsatisfied.
Haven't you heard, sir, in our land of Han, throughout the two hundred
prefectures east of the mountains briers and brambles are growing in thousands
of little hamlets; and though many a sturdy wife turns her own hand at the
hoeing and ploughing, the crops grow just anywhere, and you can't see where one
field ends and the next begins? And it's even worse for the men from Ch'in.
Because they make such good fighters, they are driven about this way and that
like so many dogs or chickens.
``Though you are good enough to ask us, sir, it's not for the likes of
us to complain. But take this winter, now. The Kuan-hsi troops are not being
demobilized. The District Officers press for the land-tax, but where is it to
come from? I really believe it's a misfortune to have sons. It's actually
better to have a daughter. If you have a daughter, you can at least marry her
off to one of the neighbors; but a son is born only to end up lying in the
grass somewhere, dead and unburied. Why look, sir, on the shores of the Kokonor
the bleached bones have lain for many a long year, but no one has ever gathered
them up. The new ghosts complain and the old ghosts weep, and under the grey
and dripping sky the air is full of their baleful twitterings.''
In Early Summer Lodging in a Temple to Enjoy the Moonlight
In early summer, with two or three more
That were seeking fame in the city of Ch'ang-an,
Whose low employ gave them less business
Than ever they had since first they left their homes
With these I wandered deep into the shrine of Tao,
For the joy we sought was promised in this place.
When we reached the gate, we sent our coaches back;
We entered the yard with only cap and stick.
Still and clear, the first weeks of May,
When trees are green and bushes soft and wet;
When the wind has stolen the shadows of new leaves
And birds linger on the last boughs that bloom.
Towards evening when the sky grew clearer yet
And the South-east was still clothed in red,
To the western cloister we carried our jar of wine;
While we waited for the moon, our cups moved slow.
Soon, how soon her golden ghost was born,
Swiftly, as though she had waited for us to come.
The beams of her light shone in every place,
On towers and halls dancing to and fro.
Till day broke we sat in her clear light
Laughing and singing, and yet never grew tired.
In Ch'ang-an, the place of profit and fame,
Such moods as this, how many men know?
Four Lyrics from Dunhuang
Tune: “Eternal Longing”
1.
He was a traveler west of the river,
with wealth and eminence rare in this world.
All day long in vermilion towers
...dancing and singing songs.
The cup filled again and again, till he's drunk as mud;
lightly, lightly trading golden goblets,
wearing out the day tasting joys, pursuing pleasures—
Some people are rich and never go home.
2.
He was a traveler west of the river;
only he knew how lonely he was,
dust and dirt covering his face,
all day long being cheated by others.
Morning after morning standing by the west gate of the market,
the wind blowing the tears that came down in two streams,
gazing toward his native land so many roads away—
Some people are poor and never go home.
3.
He was a traveler west of the river,
then he took sick, lay an inch away from death.
Still he stayed on, looking for news,
though as time went by it seemed he'd have to depart.
The villagers dragged him to the west side of the road—
his father and mother knew nothing about it—
tied a tag on his body with his name written on it—
Some people die and never go home.
Tune: “Magpie on the Branch”
4.
I can't stand the wily magpie and all his extravagant stories!
He brings me good news, but what proof does he ever have?
One of these times when he flies by, I'll grab him, capture him live,
shut him up in a golden cage to put a stop to his chatter!
With the best of intentions I went to her, delivered my good news—
who'd have thought she'd shut me up in a golden cage?
I only hope her soldiering husband comes home soon
so she'll lift me up, turn me loose to head for the blue clouds!
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Miscellaneous Feelings in the Sui Garden
1
Joy and anger are not caused by outside things:
they simply happen to arise in the heart.
Rising and falling are not matters of fate:
one simply happens to encounter them.
Reading a book and finding nothing there,
I drop the volume, get up, and take a walk.
I think I'll go to the bamboo grove
where I can listen to the springtime water flow.
2
Let them knock at the bramble gate —
the host is in a dream!
Startled awake, I search for my socks;
I must have lost them east of the thatched hut.
At night, with nothing on my mind,
in dream I watched the bamboo growing tall.
Should guests arrive now at my garden,
barefoot I will see them off.
3
Classics, Histories, Philosophers, Belles-Lettres:
these the four branches of literature.
Pavilions I have built, libraries —
one for each kind in four different spots.
In each one I have placed an inkstone
as well as several brushes to write.
Mornings I rise, wash my face,
then let my feet lead me where they will.
Circulating among all four,
happily I pass the day's twelve hours.
4
When they hear me stop reading out loud,
the farmers come from all around.
The healthy ones shoulder hoe and plow,
the fragile ones wear their hempen shoes.
The happy ones bring piles of bamboo mats,
the tired ones have bundled firewood.
They invite me to sit with them under the trees:
we all open our hearts to each other!
"This year we've suffered from wind and rain,
and still can't plant good sprouts.
We hear you chanting out loud from books:
could it be you prepare for exams?"
I love these people, their true, sincere nature,
and the way they speak, like little children!
Each one drinks a cup of wine
and we lie in a heap on the moss.
5
Do not mock me for building this tower tall:
of course a tower should be tall!
If you approach from three miles away,
already I'll see you from here.
When you visit, come not in a carriage:
the carriage's racket will terrify my birds.
And when you visit, don't come on a horse:
the horse's teeth will decimate my grass.
Also, when you visit, please, don't come at dawn:
we mountain folk hate to rise too early.
And when you visit, don't wait until dusk:
by then the flowers will all have withered away.
6
The Master of Sui Garden in the past
first built buildings here beside these hills.
Terraces, pavilions summoned clouds and mist;
wine cups glittered in the candlelight.
The old men here all say to me
that this Master was no vulgar man.
He took this garden and passed it on — to whom?
How could he know it would be me!
Long, long the thirty years;
and now I come, to help the flowers and bamboo.
"Follow Garden" : the meaning timely now;
no need to change the garden's name at all.
Consider my present-day happiness
continuation of the Master's joy.
Does it really just all "pass away"?
Past and present, still the same chess game!
And who will follow after I have left?
I ask the mountain, but it does not say.
poem by Yuan Mei, translated by Jonathan Chaves
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A World Without You
As I collected, the children
from school yesterday
knowing you were far away
I wondered what I’d do
if you didn’t come home
and I had to live without you.
The thoughts were so sad
they brought tears to my eyes.
I don’t think I could go on;
I would want to live
in a world without you.
I couldn’t be that strong.
A world without you
would be an empty place.
There would be no laughter
to greet my ears
and just the very thought
brings tears to my eyes.
A world without you,
how unhappy I would be,
you fill my every moment
with love and understanding.
You make me feel safer
just knowing that you are here.
A world with out you,
I just cannot imagine that.
The thoughts are so painful.
There would be no joy
within our happy home,
and the walls would be bare.
Just thinking of it
brings tears to my eyes,
but I so happy
because you are still here
and always will be
here at my side.
6 March 1996
Author's Note:
While sorting through some old papers this week I found this poem I had written fourteen years ago. I hope you like this little discovery.
David Harris
23 May 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea
Every time we do this
I fall for her
Wave after wave after wave
It's all for her
I know this can't be wrong i say
(and i'll lie to keep her happy)
As long as i know that you know
That today i belong
Right here with you
Right here with you...
And so we watch the sun come up
From the edge of the deep green sea
And she listens like her head's on fire
Like she wants to believe in me
So i try
Put your hands in the sky
Surrender
Remember
We'll be here forever
And we'll never say goodbye...
I've never been so
Colourfully-see-through-head before
I've never been so
Wonderfully-me-you-want-some-more
And all i want is to keep it like this
You and me alone
A secret kiss
And don't go home
Don't go away
Don't let this end
Please stay
Not just for today
Never never never never never let me go she says
Hold me like this for a hundred thousand million days
But suddenly she slows
And looks down at my breaking face
Why do you cry? what did i say?
But it's just rain i smile
Brushing my tears away...
I wish i could just stop
I know another moment will break my heart
Too many tears
Too many times
Too many years i've cried over you
How much more can we use it up?
Drink it dry?
Take this drug?
Looking for something forever gone
But something
We will always want?
Why why why are you letting me go? she says
I feel you pulling back
I feel you changing shape...
And just as i'm breaking free
She hangs herself in front of me
Slips her dress like a flag to the floor
And hands in the sky
Surrenders it all...
I wish i could just stop
I know another moment will break my heart
Too many tears
Too many times
Too many years i've cried for you
It's always the same
Wake up in the rain
Head in pain
Hung in shame
A different name
Same old game
Love in vain
And miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
Away from home again...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alive
I'm wandering the town all light off
I don't know where I'm leaving for
The muddy rain start to fall on me
And I'm walking down to subway
I can't see all around me
Get me out of here
Talk to me if someone is in this darkness
I'm out of my head
Out of my mind
Tell me where I'm what's going on , oh please
Something is hiding me off
Is this the wall of my heart
I have been lost so many things I've got
For long time I've been searching for my way
I carry on, carry on ...
I'm so spiting to their ugly heart
to this so stood world
Everyday I forbear to fall the tears
don't wanna be down
Everynight hurt is so deep in my heart
Is this my life
Oh ! Show me please
The wall close to me
It's so painful. Stop it !
Is there someone to help me
Please get me out of here
Oh ! get me out !
Dead or alive, no place to run
Get it settled once and for all
Dead or alive, can't live in the past
only one way to live.
* Give me heart finishing blow
If I could only turn my back
Let me do screaming high
Squeeze the throes of death for me
It comes here the blame I'd done before
Fall on me as if it grow in my brain
The ugly side of myself tears me up
At this time I can't go back
Give my heart finishing blow
If I couldn't run from the past
Let me do screaming high
Disclose the feeling inside of me
Dead or alive, Can't live in the past
only one way to live
* repeat
The fight is over
the mad rain had gone past over me
blood is flowing down
tear is flowing down
Now I'm alive and I'm walking to town again
song performed by by X JAPAN
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alive
I'm wandering the town all light off
I don't know where I'm leaving for
The muddy rain start to fall on me
And I'm walking down to subway
I can't see all around me
Get me out of here
Talk to me if someone is in this darkness
I'm out of my head
Out of my mind
Tell me where I'm what's going on , oh please
Something is hiding me off
Is this the wall of my heart
I have been lost so many things I've got
For long time I've been searching for my way
I carry on, carry on ...
I'm so spiting to their ugly heart
to this so stood world
Everyday I forbear to fall the tears
don't wanna be down
Everynight hurt is so deep in my heart
Is this my life
Oh ! Show me please
The wall close to me
It's so painful. Stop it !
Is there someone to help me
Please get me out of here
Oh ! get me out !
Dead or alive, no place to run
Get it settled once and for all
Dead or alive, can't live in the past
only one way to live.
* Give me heart finishing blow
If I could only turn my back
Let me do screaming high
Squeeze the throes of death for me
It comes here the blame I'd done before
Fall on me as if it grow in my brain
The ugly side of myself tears me up
At this time I can't go back
Give my heart finishing blow
If I couldn't run from the past
Let me do screaming high
Disclose the feeling inside of me
Dead or alive, Can't live in the past
only one way to live
* repeat
The fight is over
the mad rain had gone past over me
blood is flowing down
tear is flowing down
Now I'm alive and I'm walking to town again
song performed by by X JAPAN
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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a village in Iberia
A Village in Iberia
Drove to the village where I was born, hadn’t been there
for forty years, the lane was muddy and houses deserted;
this village had been abandoned long time ago; what was
I thinking of coming here? A tree had grown right through
our cottage, roof smashed now walls were tumbling down.
Puny human dwellings, here today and gone in less than
Ten decades, the tree seemed to say. What a nostalgic fool
I’m, this idea of returning, rebuild the old house and live
here in happy retirement.
This was no longer a village but a graveyard, houses were
tombstones of a past that had nothing to offer but poverty,
glassless window resembled crosses of a defunct faith.
I sat on a stone smoking a cigarette the aroma of wafted
through the drab silence, from behind a broken wall a dog
came, young, and it looked eerily like Stella the dog I loved
all those years ago, don’t tell me she has waited for five
dog generations, to return from the wasteland of eternity
just for me?
“I’ll call you Stella”, I said and stroked the dog’s head.
She knitted her brows together as to say, “What else? ”
I opened the right hand car door, Stella jumped in like she
had done this a thousand time before, drove off and didn’t
look back once, the only memory I need of my childhood,
was alive and snoozing in the seat beside me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Village
A Village in Iberia
Drove to the village where I was born, hadn’t been there
for forty years, the lane was muddy and houses deserted;
this village had been abandoned long time ago; what was
I thinking of coming here? A tree had grown right through
our cottage, roof smashed now walls were tumbling down.
Puny human dwellings, here today and gone in less than
Ten decades, the tree seemed to say. What a nostalgic fool
I’m, this idea of returning, rebuild the old house and live
here in happy retirement.
This was no longer a village but a graveyard, houses were
tombstones of a past that had nothing to offer but poverty,
glassless window resembled crosses of a defunct faith.
I sat on a stone smoking a cigarette the aroma of wafted
through the drab silence, from behind a broken wall a dog
came, young, and it looked eerily like Stella the dog I loved
all those years ago, don’t tell me she has waited for five
dog generations, to return from the wasteland of eternity
just for me?
“I’ll call you Stella”, I said and stroked the dog’s head.
She knitted her brows together as to say, “What else? ”
I opened the right hand car door, Stella jumped in like she
had done this a thousand time before, drove off and didn’t
look back once, the only memory I needed of my childhood,
was alive and snoozing in the seat beside me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hold Your Hand A Walk Miles
I want to hold your hands & walk a miles
dont want to miss you even a while
My life is so beautiful caz
Dear. you entered in..My LIFE
Hug me for my worries to die
my tears to dry wait for you and
my lonliness to to fly to sky
it hurts me you know
how i sometimes can be little selfish
when it comes to you.
I am getting sentimental over you!
for god sake explain me why all those
i miss you every moment of the day,
i keep me awake just to listen you,
i keep me empty just for you to fill,
i keep me alive just to see you.
My morning miss you,
my evening all these years,
why you were there to wipe my tears.
Fear of future is worse then pain of the past
still i bother the least, caz you are there
even second are too long to miss you
I want to hold your hands & walk a miles
dont want miss you even a while
poem by Khushi throne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeward
Behind a trench in Flanders the sun was dropping low,
With tramp, and creak and jingle I heard the gun-teams go;
And something seemed to 'mind me, a-dreaming as I lay,
Of my own old Hampshire village at the quiet end of day.
Brown thatch and gardens blooming with lily and with rose,
And the cool shining river so pleasant where he flows,
White fields of oats and barley, and elderflower like foam,
And the sky gold with sunset, and the horses going home!
(
Home, lad, home, all among the corn and clover!
Home, lad, home when the time for work is over!
Oh there's rest for horse and man when the longest day is done
And they go home together at setting of the sun!
)
Old Captain, Prince and Blossom, I see them all so plain,
With tasseled ear-caps nodding along the leafy lane,
There's a bird somewhere calling, and the swallow flying low,
And the lads sitting sideways, and singing as they go.
Well gone is many a lad now, and many a horse gone too,
Off all those lads and horses in those old fields I knew;
There's Dick that died at Cuinchy and Prince beside the guns
On the red road of glory, a mile or two from Mons!
Dead lads and shadowy horses - I see them just the same,
I see them and I know them, and name them each by name,
Going down to shining waters when all the West's a-glow,
And the lads sitting sideways and singing as they go.
(
Home, lad, home . . . with the sunset on their faces!
Home, lad, home . . . to those quiet happy places!
There's rest for horse and man when the hardest fight is done,
And they go home together at setting of the sun!
)
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Act of God?
A coin when dropped will
In one second, fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.
They were driving back from Sydney
Mum and Dad and their two kids
The freeway was a nightmare
So they took the old road that they did.
The old road’s quite an old road
Been there for many years
The rain was slanting sideways
Being late home was their fear.
It was night and many lights were out
The road was dark and quite awash
Water running everywhere
The kids shrieked with every splash.
A short drive now back to the warmth
Of the house in which they lived
A short drive back now to that home
Where they brought up both their kids.
Just two and three I think they were
A precious time of life
The kids strapped in the back seat
In the front was man and wife.
A dip there in the road appeared
Just where there is a creek
But we’ll be home soon they both said
Both kids were now asleep.
‘Slow down now, that’s deep water’
Said the man unto his wife
Those were the very final words
He would utter in his life.
One hundred feet, one hundred feet
One hundred feet or more
Was the depth of that great puddle
Into which the rain had poured.
It was at a place called Somersby
When the rain had drained away
That they winched up that death carriage
On the following grey day.
Yes, the chasm it was very deep
A Grand Canyon not a puddle
So for everyone upon that road
And every time you loved ones cuddle
Just think of those four driving home
And think of their full fright
And hold each other closely
Each and every single night
We should live for every minute
We should relish every hour
For simple stupid circumstance
Can destroy life’s fragile flower.
A coin when dropped will
In one second fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.
It was that deep.
I met the family's best friend in a local pub yesterday. He had just got back from identifying the bodies.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inspired by Issa - My Home Village
my home village
the virgin mary still stands
young as ever
my home village
old friends like me
away from home
my home village
old friends live in
new homes
inspired by
my home village-
the winter rain targets
a standing Buddha
-Issa,1816
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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