The Race
An injury in sophomore year
caused me to miss the springtime meets.
I was sitting in a cast
while my teammates won their heats.
I am no brain, I can’t sit still
No chance I’ll ace the S.A.T.
But medal wins in track and field
could mean a scholarship for me.
Near Lewis is a cinder track-
an oval of a quarter mile.
So I come here to do my laps
And dream of victory for a while.
A short fat man goes jogging by
In sweat drenched shirt and navy shorts
Gasping, like a fish in air,
fleeing from his mortal thoughts.
I doff my sweats and start to stretch
I take no chances with this knee.
Soon I’m feeling good and loose,
it pays to warm up properly.
A tall thin runner, strangely pale,
About half of the track ahead
I‘ll pass him like he’s standing still
Then he’ll be chasing me instead.
I pass the jogger right away
The pale runner, though, moves speedily
I pick up my pace a notch
Just as quickly so does he..
I stretch my stride, he does the same
And gains upon me steadily
I thought that I was chasing him
It seems instead he’s chasing me.
I never raced this guy before
At any of the local meets
He appears to be as old as me
But his gear is “thrift shop” quality.
Sure enough, he’s gaining fast.
I dig down for a last reserve
I didn’t think I’d lost a step
Bad news, if it’s true, for me
I hear his foot falls close behind
And vainly try to stay ahead
I turn my head to see his face
It is the face of one long dead.
The ghostly winner makes a turn
and passes through the gate and chains
The cemetery lies beyond
That holds the urn with his cremains
“You saw him too” the fat man gasps-
“I thought that he had come for me”
I knew he only came to run
I recognized the ghost you see.
“Tommy Miller was his name
School Champion back in 63’
.He died crossing this finish line
an aneurysm in his brain.”
Unfinished business binds him here
A restless spirit, more than most,
The race is ever to the swift
The quick are beaten by a ghost
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Chasing an Empty Car (episode 1)
I was a cop chasing an empty car.
Not to know what I would find in the car.
I was a man chasing my life.
Not to know what I would discover in my life.
To make a choice to be a hero,
I could chase this empty car myself.
To make a choice to be safe,
I could call for backup.
Would I sacrifice myself for my career?
Would I risk my life for better feeling at work?
I didn’t know if I would come out from it alive.
I didn’t know if I would stay on the life track.
In short time a lot of thoughts came through my mind.
In long period of my life I didn’t know I’d have a choice.
Sacrifice for innocents or runaway for sinners.
Minimizing the risk for everybody, I called for backup and kept chasing.
Sinner is always winner.
No matter what he always wins.
Stay on the track.
I recalled the paragraphs from the poem book.
All of sudden I heard some shots,
And my car was on fire.
Trying to pull the break and run out of the car.
I remember big noise and explosion.
I didn’t know if I made it.
Now I am standing in dark tunnel.
At the end of tunnel I see a light.
I was a cop chasing an empty car.
I was a man chasing a simple life.
poem by Sukhee Bukhbat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Runner
The tough of the track
With the wind
And the rain thats beating down on your back
Your hearts beating loud
And goes on getting louder
And goes on even more til the
Sound is ringing in your head
With ebery step you tread
And every breath you take
Determination
Makes you run never stop
Got to win got to run til you drop
Keep the pace hold the race
Your mind is getting clearer
Youre over half way there
But the miles they never seem to end
As if youre in a dream
Not getting anywhere
It seems so futile
Run on and on
Run on and on
The lonliness of the long distance runner
Ive got to keep running the course
Ive got to keep running and win at all costs
Ive got to keep going be strong
Must be so determined and push myself on
Run over stiles across fields
Turn to look at whos on your heels
Way ahead of the field
The line is getting nearer but do
You want the glory that goes
You reach the final stretch
Ideals sre just a trace
You feel like throwing the race
Its all so futile
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The race and the entrants
Running the RaceRunning the race, the entrant is thinking,
How shall I go, shall I be fast tracking;
The man calls their names and they each get down,
But someone starts off early, oh what a frown.
They all get ready, and the man says ready, set go,
Off they all start, around the track they all know,
The runner he thinks, as he races along there,
Have I done enough practice, as the crowd do stare.
But; soon he starts to put speed in each step,
And races ahead, The pace has some depth;
As they come up fast to the first time round,
One of the runners knocks another to the ground.
The runner is now fifteen feet ahead of the rest,
He wants to win the race, another medal in his nest;
As the race comes soon to the end for each one,
That entrant remembered the race of life soon to come.
As Paul had spoken of the race we all run,
In life it's not how much we have, but what we've done;
We run the race of life, seeking to live right,
Serving God our Father, walking in the light.
As we get to the end of the race we run,
When we finish our race well hear hopefully well done;
We can't go wrong when we do right and serve the Lord,
Pray, show kindness and care, and study His Word.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Steel Rails
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Steel rails, chasing sunshine round the bend
Winding through the trees like a ribbon in the wind
I dont mind not knowing what lies down the track
cause Im looking out ahead
To keep my mind from turning back
Its not the first time, I find myself alone at dawn
If I really had you once, I still have you when Im gone
Whistle blowing, blowing lonesome in my mind
Calling me along that never ending double line
Steel rails, chasing sunshine round the bend
Winding through the trees like a ribbon in the wind
I dont mind not knowing what lies down the track
cause Im looking out ahead to keep my mind from turning back
The sun is shining through the open boxcar door
Lying in my mind with the things Ive known before
And Ive lost count of all the hours, days and time
Just the rhythm of the rails keeps the motion in my mind
Steel rails, chasing sunshine round the bend
Winding through the trees like a ribbon in the wind
I dont mind not knowing what lies down the track
cause Im looking out ahead to keep my mind from turning back
Words and music by louisa banscomb
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Snail and the Quail
The quick, quivering quail laughed at the slow moving snail
And said, “Don’t ever enter a race or you’ll be last on the trail.”
Well, that snail always saw himself as moving kind of slow,
Though he was sure he knew where a straight line would go.
He thought, “Quail is faster, running back and forth, then forth and back.
If he does that in a race, quick quivering quail might just run off track.”
So the slow moving snail smiled and challenged quick, quivering quail
To a race for the candy store on the other side of hill and dale.
Quick, quivering quail laughed so hard he could hardly talk.
He joked, “Slow snail, you have no chance if you run and I only walk.”
Slow moving snail responded, “Tomorrow you’ll have a chance to shine.
Race time is noon and where ants cross the road is the starting line.”
Quick, quivering quail, still laughing, said “I’ll give you a big head start.”
Slow moving snail answered, “No thanks. Just race fast. I’ll race smart.”
Off went quick, quivering quail with buddies to have fun and stay up late.
Slow moving snail worked on a plan to move faster and go straight.
The day passed quickly for snail and quail as each went his separate way.
Night was short and soon a bright new sun hailed the start of race day.
Quick, quivering quail was tired after staying out late with his best friend.
Slow moving snail slept well and had his plan for how the race would end.
Snails and quails crowded ‘round as queen ant started to whine,
“Loosen up your shell and feathers; then step to the starting line.
On your mark, get ready, get set, now off you two go.”
Quick quivering quail rushed down the track… sir snail started slow.
It wasn’t long before quick quail had quivered across two dales, and then
Thought he’d just catch 40 winks before trying that much track again.
He thought, “I could walk in my sleep and still win this race.
That slow moving snail, carrying his shell along. What a big disgrace! ”
So off he went into Dreamland, seeing candy stores over the next dale.
Or was it two more hills that were the end of this easy trail?
Meanwhile slow moving snail studied his map as he moved along.
He smiled at flowers and friends on the hill; then broke into song,
“I’ve worked hard for this race and thank each and every fan.
I’m confident that I’ll win, but if not, I can always try again.
With your cheers and my hard work, “slow” won’t mean “lose”.
Victory depends not on just our skills, but how much of them we use.”
As slow snail topped the hill, it rained, but not on a single snail fan.
They had umbrellas, since slow snail had checked with the weatherman.
His name now was “quick snail” as he slid down the hills of water and mud.
Rain woke quick quivering quail as a big dropp hit his head with a thud.
Quail ran faster as he thought he saw the finish line with each advance…
But shrieked, “Oh no, I can’t believe it. This line is made up of ants! ”
Snail’s slide downhill helped him move over the dale as never before.
Soon there it was within sight and smell…that winning candy store.
Then snail’s moves were much slower and he could hear a noise behind.
Sure, it was quick quail, so snail reached for all the strength he could find.
Before he knew it, slow moving snail was in front of the candy store.
So proud, he yelled, “I Love You All! ” as he listened to the crowd roar.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows On The Wall
When the fantasy we live in
Lies in pieces on the ground
And there is no false illusion
That can turn your heart around
Nothing can change the way I feel
Nothing can take your love from me
If only I didnt worry
If only I could see
If only I could see
Chasing shadows on the wall
Chasing shadows as they dance on the floor
Chasing dreams that were forever young
Now Im on my own
Chasing shadows on the wall
Shadows on the wall
On the sea of mediocrity
Drifting from a distant shore
No goodbyes no celebration
No-one there to close the door
Only the silence that I feel
Only the lonely road is real
If only I didnt loose you
If only we could be
If only we could be
Chasing shadows on the wall
Chasing shadows as they dance on the floor
Chasing dreams that were forever young
Now Im on my own
Chasing shadows on the wall
Shadows on the wall
Chasing shadows on the wall
Chasing shadows as they start to fall
Chasing dreams that were forever young
Chasing shadows on the wall
Chasing shadows on the wall
Chasing shadows as they dance on the floor
Chasing shadows on the wall
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slow And Steady (Based on the Tortoise and the Hare)
As usual an argument
An argument arose
In the poppy field
Next to the red rose
It was between the mouse and the cat
(No worse enemies existed than that!)
In the end they had a bet
Whoever won, he would get
The poppy field for his own to live in
While the one who lost would be given
"Exile, banished from here forever! "
Said the cat (who really was very clever.)
The mouse thought: "What nonsense!
But it'll be ME who'll win
And that cat will have to live
In the garbage bins! "
But before the mouse could get a word out,
The cat who had been prancing about
Cleared his throat, "I declare!
The competition shall be judged by the hare.
We are going to have a magnificent race,
Poor mousie won't be able to keep up the pace! "
There mouse stood, flabbergasted as ever!
Really, that cat, was sly and clever,
He knew mouse couldn't run at all!
He'd just trip over his tail and fall!
But (though worried he was) he had to do it,
Yes, mouse had to go and prove it,
He would run faster than any cat,
He would run like the wind and knock- them- flat!
The next day dawned, pearly and white,
But the poor mouse was pale with fright!
As he stood in his place
Ready for the race
The cat yawned, as if bored with all this!
When the starting goose gave a hiss,
"Ready, set, GO! "Shouted the hare aloud
The cat ran fast, leaving behind a cloud
Of dust, and the mouse ran as fast as he could
"I'll win this race! I'd do anything to, I would! "
As the cat ran ahead he couldn't help but think:
"There's no way that the mouse can pass me! "
I got ahead in an eye's blink!
Why don't I settle down for a nap?
I have to run only one more lap,
I can rest my eyes for just a little while,
Mouse probably hasn't even run half a mile!
There don't seem to be any chances
Of mousie passing me, I'll win, I'll win! "
And he made quite a din.
The cat settled down in the shade,
Of a tree in a peaceful glade.
He slept soundly, till the mouse had gone on ahead
While the cat was snoozing on his primrose bed!
When the cat finally rose, it was just too late!
And though he ran fast (in a bedraggled state.)
He just couldn't make it, the mouse had got the lead
And crossed the finish line (leaving the cat in defeat! !)
The mouse had won, he'd proved Cat wrong,
Who walked away, singing a mournful song:
"I was boastful and full of myself, it's true
And now I've lost the race, I don't know what to do!
I'm sorry that I looked at mouse with scorn! "
And the cat traipsed by, looking forlorn.
" Dear Cat, you're looking blue, "
Said the mouse, "I feel sorry for you.
How about we divide the Poppy field
Between us, one half for me, the other for you? "
And of course the cat agreed!
He'd learned a lesson indeed!
"Slow and steady wins the race."
Said the mouse, in first place....
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Dreams
Ill tell you how my day has been,
how the sun has caught my face.
How i lul myself to sleep,
weaving shadows on my face.
Chasing dreams that just passed by
Broken dreams im just too late.
Chasing dreams that just passed by
Broken dreams im just too late.
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing, chasing broken dreams
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing, chasing broken dreams
hmmm hmmmh hmh mh....
If only you could keep me warm,
if only you could keep me from harm.
if only you could shhh hmm hmm hmm hmm
Chasing dreams that just passed by
Broken dreams im just too late.
Chasing dreams that just passed by
Broken dreams im just too late.
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing, chasing broken dreams
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
chasing dreams,
(whistling)
why
hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm
chasing, chasing broken dreams
song performed by by Fat Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel
Written by stevie nicks.
Sometimes
The most beautiful things
The most innocent things
And many of those dreams
Pass us by
Keep passing us by
You feel good
I said it's funny that you understood
I knew you would
When you were good
You were very, very good
I still look up
When you walk in the room
I've the same wide eyes
They tell the story
Try not to reach out
When you turn 'round
And you say hello
And we both pretend
There was an end
But there was no ending
So i close my eyes softly
Til i become that part of the wind
That we all long for sometime
And to those that i love
Like a ghost through a fog
Like a charmed hour
And a haunted song
And the angel of my dreams
I still look up
I try hard not to look up
That girl was me
Track a ghost through the fog
A charmed hour -- a haunted song
Track a ghost through the fog, baby
Ooh, you try hard
But you'll never catch me -- yeah
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Highway Runner
Highway lead him to where hes never been
Show that drifter what hes never seen
Introduce him to this
Acquaint him with that
Gotta keep searching like a stray stray cat
Highway runner chasing time since the day he was born
Highway runner racing time around the world one more time
For one more time
It aint even me can hold him down
Country just a breath from town to town
He got restless feet and a restless mind
Never wanna travel through the same place twice
Highway runner chasing time since the day he was born
Highway runner racing time around the world one more time
For one more time
One more time
One more time
One more time
Youre gonna meet your match...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Open Steeplechase
I had ridden over hurdles up the country once or twice,
By the side of Snowy River with a horse they called 'The Ace'.
And we brought him down to Sydney, and our rider, Jimmy Rice,
Got a fall and broke his shoulder, so they nabbed me in a trice,
Me, that never wore the colours, for the open Steeplechase.
'Make the running,' said the trainer, 'it's your only chance whatever,
Make it hot from start to finish, for the old black horse can stay,
And just think of how they'll take it, when they hear on Snowy River
That the country boy was plucky, and the country horse was clever.
You must ride for old Monaro and the mountain boys today.'
'Are you ready? said the starter, as we held the horses back.
All ablazing with impatience, with excitement all aglow;
Before us like a ribbon stretched the steeplechasing track,
And the sun-rays glistened brightly on the chestnut and the black
As the starter's words came slowly, 'Are, you, ready? Go!'
Well I scarcely knew we'd started, I was stupid-like with wonder
Till the field closed up beside me and a jump appeared ahead.
And we flew it like a hurdle, not a baulk and not a blunder,
As we charged it all together, and it fairly whistled under,
And then some were pulled behind me and a few shot out and led.
So we ran for half the distance, and I'm making no pretenses
When I tell you I was feeling very nervous-like and queer,
For those jockeys rode like demons; you would think they'd lost their senses
If you saw them rush their horses at those rasping five-foot fences,
And in place of making running I was falling to the rear.
Till a chap came racing past me on a horse the called 'The Quiver',
And said he, 'My country joker, are you going to give it best?
Are you frightened of the fences? does their stoutness make you shiver?
Have they come to breeding cowards by the side of Snowy River?
Are there riders in Monaro?, 'but I never heard the rest.
For I drove The Ace and sent him just as fast as he could pace it
At the big black line of timber stretching fair across the track,
And he shot beside The Quiver. 'Now,' said I, 'my boy, we'll race it.
You can come with Snowy River if you're only game to face it,
Let us mend the pace a little and we'll see who cries a crack.'
So we raced away together, and we left the others standing,
And the people cheered and shouted as we settled down to ride,
And we clung beside The Quiver. At his taking off and landing
I could see his scarlet nostril and his mighty ribs expanding,
And The Ace stretched out in earnest, and we held him stride for stride.
But the pace was so terrific that they soon ran out their tether,
They were rolling in their gallop, they were fairly blown and beat,
But they both were game as pebbles, neither one would show the feather.
And we rushed them at the fences, and they cleared them both together,
Nearly every time they clouted, but they somehow kept their feet.
Then the last jump rose before us, and they faced it game as ever,
We were both at spur and whipcord, fetching blood at every bound,
And above the people's cheering and the cries of 'Ace' and 'Quiver',
I could hear the trainer shouting, 'One more run for Snowy River.'
Then we struck the jump together and came smashing to the ground.
Well, The Quiver ran to blazes, but The Ace stood still and waited,
Stood and waited like a statue while I scrambled on its back.
There was no one next or near me for the field was fairly slated,
So I cantered home a winner with my shoulder dislocated,
While the man who rode The Quiver followed limping down the track.
And he shook my hand and told me that in all his days he never
Met a man who rode more gamely, and our last set-to was prime.
Then we wired them on Monaro how we chanced to beat The Quiver,
And they sent us back an answer, 'Good old sort from Snowy River:
Send us word each race you start in and we'll back you every time.'
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Road to Hogan's Gap
Now look, you see, it’s this way like,
You cross the broken bridge
And run the crick down till you strike
The second right-hand ridge.
The track is hard to see in parts,
But still it’s pretty clear;
There’s been two Injin hawkers’ carts
Along that road this year.
Well, run that right-hand ridge along—
It ain’t, to say, too steep—
There’s two fresh tracks might put you wrong
Where blokes went out with sheep.
But keep the crick upon your right,
And follow pretty straight
Along the spur, until you sight
A wire and sapling gate.
Well, that’s where Hogan’s old grey mare
Fell off and broke her back;
You’ll see her carcase layin’ there,
Jist down below the track.
And then you drop two mile, or three,
It’s pretty steep and blind;
You want to go and fall a tree
And tie it on behind.
And then you pass a broken cart
Below a granite bluff;
And that is where you strike the part
They reckon pretty rough.
But by the time you’ve got that far
It’s either cure or kill,
So turn your horses round the spur
And face ’em up the hill.
For look, if you should miss the slope
And get below the track,
You haven’t got the whitest hope
Of ever gettin’ back.
An’ half way up you’ll see the hide
Of Hogan’s brindled bull;
Well, mind and keep the right-hand side,
The left’s too steep a pull.
And both the banks is full of cracks;
An’ just about at dark
You’ll see the last year’s bullock tracks
Where Hogan drew the bark.
The marks is old and pretty faint—
And grown with scrub and such;
Of course the track to Hogan’s ain’t
A road that’s travelled much.
But turn and run the tracks along
For half a mile or more,
And then, of course, you can’t go wrong—
You’re right at Hogan’s door.
When first you come to Hogan’s gate
He mightn’t show, perhaps;
He’s pretty sure to plant and wait
To see it ain’t the traps.
I wouldn’t call it good enough
To let your horses out;
There’s some that’s pretty extra rough
Is livin’ round about.
It’s likely if your horses did
Get feedin’ near the track,
It’s goin’ to cost at least a quid
Or more to get them back.
So, if you find they’re off the place,
It’s up to you to go
And flash a quid in Hogan’s face—
He’ll know the blokes that know.
But listen—if you’re feelin’ dry,
Just see there’s no one near,
And go and wink the other eye
And ask for ginger beer.
The blokes come in from near and far
To sample Hogan’s pop;
They reckon once they breast the bar
They stay there till they drop.
On Sundays you can see them spread
Like flies around the tap.
It’s like that song “The Livin’ Dead”
Up there at Hogan’s Gap.
They like to make it pretty strong
Whenever there’s a charnce;
So when a stranger comes along
They always holds a dance.
There’s recitations, songs, and fights—
A willin’ lot you’ll meet.
There’s one long bloke up there recites,
I tell you—he’s a treat.
They’re lively blokes all right up there,
It’s never dull a day.
I’d go meself if I could spare
The time to get away.
. . . . .
The stranger turned his horses quick.
He didn’t cross the bridge;
He didn’t go along the crick
To strike the second ridge;
He didn’t make the trip, because
He wasn’t feeling fit.
His business up at Hogan’s was
To serve him with a writ.
He reckoned if he faced the pull
And climbed the rocky stair,
The next to come might find his hide
A land-mark on the mountain side,
Along with Hogan’s brindled bull
And Hogan’s old grey mare!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When i lost my track
when lights are not guiding
and the words unspoken and hiding
feeling stuck no forwards no back
that's when i lost my track
when meanings are not felt
and feelings not spelled
and spellings stay on rack
that's when i lost my track
when attraction is gone
can't find the caring one
and emotions are stacked
that's when i lost my track
when actions are fixative
feeling so much negative
and no one seem ready to hack
that's when i lost my track
when colors turn to black
can't find my way back
lonely heart with a little crack
that's when i lost my track
poem by Kareem Hany
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Enjoy this inevitable run of life
Life is just a run
Not a race
As in a race
We compete with others
And the quicker we run
We reach the destination
Ahead of others
And get declared a winner
Life is just a ran
Not a race
As in life
We have only one track
Drawn exclusively for us
And we only and alone run it
No one else is running this track
And nothing like
Winning or losing
It is only living
Life is just a run
Not a race
We reach our destination
With a speed
That is determined by our skills
And with an ease
That is determined by our attitude
While speed is no matter
As we do not compete with others
Ease varies with our attitudes
Life is just a run
Not a race
As the track you run is
Exclusively laid for you
And know, you run it alone
Till you reach the dead end
There is no victory stand
There is no spectator
There is no medal
There is no honour
You are the spectator
You honour yourself
You clap and celebrate your victory
All alone and in silence
Life is just a run
Not a race
More than anything else
With how much you ease
You ran it
Will be remembered
So finetune your attitude
To life, people around
And the environment you are in
To enjoy this inevitable run of life
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Justice Part 1
It was
Just another day
Or so I thought
But madness
Had got me
I didn't even know
I was walking
Through the city
Minding my own
When I saw a man
Hurt someone
I should have known
I should have turned away
I should have gone another way
But my mind
Wouldn't let me
It was too far away
I'm chasing
I'm chasing
I'm gaining
But i'm losing
I'm fighting
But i'm not moving
I'm chasing
My dreams away
I catch him
I beat him
I take the blame for him
Then I pay
For what he done
Twenty years of pain
Justice never done
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lining Track
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Mo boys, is you right
Done got it right
All I hate about linin track
These ol boys are gonna break my back
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Down in the holler below the fleld
Angels working on the chariot wheel
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Mary and the babe was a sittin in the shade
Thinking on the money that I aint made
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Moses stood on the red sea shore
Gotta batten down the waves with a 2 by 4
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Now if I could I surely would
Stand on the rock where moses stood
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Matthew, mark, luke and john
All them disciples dead and gone
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Mo boys, is you right
Done got it right
All I hate about lining track
These ol boys about to break my back
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Words and music by huddie ledbetter
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Year and a Day
Slow days have passed that make a year,
Slow hours that make a day,
Since I could take my first dear love
And kiss him the old way;
Yet the green leaves touch me on the cheek,
Dear Christ, this month of May.
I lie among the tall green grass
That bends above my head
And covers up my wasted face
And folds me in its bed
Tenderly and lovingly
Like grass above the dead.
Dim phantoms of an unknown ill
Float through my tired brain;
The unformed visions of my life
Pass by in ghostly train;
Some pause to touch me on the cheek,
Some scatter tears like rain.
A shadow falls along the grass
And lingers at my feet;
A new face lies between my hands --
Dear Christ, if I could weep
Tears to shut out the summer leaves
When this new face I greet.
Still it is but the memory
Of something I have seen
In the dreamy summer weather
When the green leaves came between:
The shadow of my dear love’s face --
So far and strange it seems.
The river ever running down
Between its grassy bed,
The voices of a thousand birds
That clang above my head,
Shall bring to me a sadder dream
When this sad dream is dead.
A silence falls upon my heart
And hushes all its pain.
I stretch my hands in the long grass
And fall to sleep again,
There to lie empty of all love
Like beaten corn of grain.
poem by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ghost at the Second Bridge
You'd call the man a senseless fool,—
A blockhead or an ass,
Who’d dare to say he saw the ghost
Of Mount Victoria Pass;
But I believe the ghost is there,
For, if my eyes are right,
I saw it once upon a ne’er-
To-be-forgotten night.
’Twas in the year of eighty-nine—
The day was nearly gone,
The stars were shining, and the moon
Is mentioned further on;
I’d tramped as far as Hartley Vale,
Tho’ tired at the start,
But coming back I got a lift
In Johnny Jones’s cart.
’Twas winter on the mountains then—
The air was rather chill,
And so we stopped beside the inn
That stands below the hill.
A fire was burning in the bar,
And Johnny thought a glass
Would give the tired horse a spell
And help us up the Pass.
Then Jimmy Bent came riding up—
A tidy chap was Jim—
He shouted twice, and so of course
We had to shout for him.
And when at last we said good-night
He bet a vulgar quid
That we would see the “ghost in black”,
And sure enough we did.
And as we climbed the stony pinch
Below the Camel Bridge,
We talked about the “Girl in black”
Who haunts the Second Bridge.
We reached the fence that guards the cliff
And passed the corner post,
And Johnny like a senseless fool
Kept harping on the ghost.
“She’ll cross the moonlit road in haste
And vanish down the track;
Her long black hair hangs to her waist
And she is dressed in black;
Her face is white, a dull dead white—
Her eyes are opened wide—
She never looks to left or right,
Or turns to either side.”
I didn’t b’lieve in ghosts at all,
Tho’ I was rather young,
But still I wished with all my heart
That Jack would hold his tongue.
The time and place, as you will say,
(’Twas twelve o’clock almost)—
Were both historically fa-
Vourable for a ghost.
But have you seen the Second Bridge
Beneath the “Camel’s Back”?
It fills a gap that broke the ridge
When convicts made the track;
And o’er the right old Hartley Vale
In homely beauty lies,
And o’er the left the mighty walls
Of Mount Victoria rise.
And there’s a spot above the bridge,
Just where the track is steep,
From which poor Convict Govett rode
To christen Govett’s Leap;
And here a teamster killed his wife—
For those old days were rough—
And here a dozen others had
Been murdered, right enough.
The lonely moon was over all
And she was shining well,
At angles from the sandstone wall
The shifting moonbeams fell.
In short, the shifting moonbeams beamed,
The air was still as death,
Save when the listening silence seemed
To speak beneath its breath.
The tangled bushes were not stirred
Because there was no wind,
But now and then I thought I heard
A startling noise behind.
Then Johnny Jones began to quake;
His face was like the dead.
“Don’t look behind, for heaven’s sake!
The ghost is there!” he said.
He stared ahead—his eyes were fixed;
He whipped the horse like mad.
“You fool!” I cried, “you’re only mixed;
A drop too much you’ve had.
I’ll never see a ghost, I swear,
But I will find the cause.”
I turned to see if it was there,
And sure enough it was!
Its look appeared to plead for aid
(As far as I could see),
Its hands were on the tailboard laid,
Its eyes were fixed on me.
The face, it cannot be denied
Was white, a dull dead white,
The great black eyes were opened wide
And glistened in the light.
I stared at Jack; he stared ahead
And madly plied the lash.
To show I wasn’t scared, I said—
“Why, Jack, we’ve made a mash.”
I tried to laugh; ’twas vain to try.
The try was very lame;
And, tho’ I wouldn’t show it, I
Was frightened, all the same.
“She’s mashed,” said Jack, “I do not doubt,
But ’tis a lonely place;
And then you see it might turn out
A breach of promise case.”
He flogged the horse until it jibbed
And stood as one resigned,
And then he struck the road and ran
And left the cart behind.
Now, Jack and I since infancy
Had shared our joys and cares,
And so I was resolved that we
Should share each other’s scares.
We raced each other all the way
And never slept that night,
And when we told the tale next day
They said that we were—intoxicated.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I miss you
Here I am all alone again
Starring the sun until it’s down
I think of you all day long
Long before the ocean meets the stream
Long before the rain starts to fall
I miss you
Like a flower that blooms in spring
I miss you
Like the air that I’m breathing
I lay awake at night.
That every time I close my eyes
All I can see is you,
I only get you inside my mind
You’re everything that I ever knew
I miss you.
Like a winter that comes for a while,
I miss you.
Like a summer, sky that falls in May.
Here I am talking on a wind
Hoping I could understand them
To say these words I wanted to
Wondering if you’re thinking of me too
And it was so impossible to do
I miss you
Like a rainfall that comes in season
I miss you
Like a river that flow back to the sea
Of all the things I ever see
In this world of odds and ends
That love appears over the horizon
I love chasing the rainbow in the sky
And it feels I m to close to you
I miss you
Like a love song that I used to play
I miss you
Like a candle lightened my soul
poem by Cheryl Aldea
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple Pie mmmmm My Eye
Boy, this bed rattles bangs and squeaks
Your mother said was louder than the works hooter
I told your mom it was the computer geeks
They were fixing your computer
She asked who has left the empty condom packets
I told her, I used them as handle covers for my tennis racquets
By what I said, to her she was quite taken aback,
She thought my mind wandered on another track
What is the point of that she asked In Turn?
Her eyes glaring hard at me looking so stern
I once dropped them, in mom’s apple pie
As she looked knowingly, in my eye
All the banging kept us awake
I told her you were chasing a little snake
Her eyes burned right through my head
Snakes she said a snake wandering in the bed?
Somehow, she thought I was telling a tale
As she looked at me, my face went pale
You had better see the local vicar
Do you think I was drinking liquor?
Sadly my roving days are done
My girlfriend’s oven has a bun
The wedding day came and went
Now my racquet handle, is slightly bent
poem by Gordon D Wilkinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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