I Have Seen a Fellow
I have known a fellow
With a statuesque threshold
For the flipping jabs
Of kerosene tongues
And I had seen him
In so many nights
Under a farcical lamppost
Reckoning the deluging drought
That had imposed his inebriation
With his sordid fingers latched
Into the waist of desolation,
And he was scarcely available
By the maws of the sun
For he is tethered
To inadequacy
And poverty
Of all squalid kinds.
I have seen this fellow
From a distance and he was fine
With his dyed chestnut tresses
Combing the wisps of light
That drifts far from his eyes
Which were blackly tired
Sunken deep in a vale
Dug by his skeptic vision,
And then I looked closer
Into the marred paper
And he was hideous
And grotesque.
He was lean, too anorexic lean,
That the looming sun
Cloyed in a taut metal string
Can never stroke his spine
Slithering in sinewy lids
Thus, would never cast his shadow
And he was seemingly tall
Until he darted through a crowd
And cringed without recoil.
I have seen this fellow
Saunter past the catastrophe
Of pawned breaths
And sycophancies,
Dragging his heels
Through the scathing embers
Of bleak serenity
Juggling abortive things
On his scrawny hands
To dodge the mangling bullets
Of the loneliness
That he can never avert.
I have seen this fellow
Clutch his chest at nights
Tossing a vigorous cigarette
Into the silent bedlam
Of the creeping pillars
Of the elusive vying for
The kiss of the serpent sun
I have seen him strip
His medical uniform down
Clothes off, lights on
Fondling his copper flesh
With the caress of his laments
And his soul shut
The persiennes and swindles
A lion's puissant prowl
I have seen this fellow
Build lofty fences
Of steely open palms rigidly
Shearing the foliage
Of the vacant sky
And likewise,
Subtly pleading
For alms,
And sometimes
Saliently groveling
In a beguiling barricade.
I have heard this fellow
Pray for what he shouldn't,
Rubbing the space juxtaposed
The bridge of his nose
Until the salty sea
Turn into a bitter wine
Of spangling crimson
And the gush of blood
Would sober him up.
I have seen this fellow
Quaver violently
From holding the razor
To swoon the stubbles
Of his clad garden
And from avoiding the halloos
Of the pulsing in his neck.
I have seen this fellow
Watch me watch
A fellow who never had
Anyone looking after
In the massive number
Of his latent breathing.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Who Is This God Fellow And What's The Reason Why
Who is this God Fellow
And what’s the reason why
Did he murder the last poet
When he thought to cry
Who is this God Fellow
And what’s the reason why
Dose he never leave the gated community
Of his heaven in the sky.
Who is this God fellow
And what is his gig
It seems to me that he and his priest
Got the whole damn thing rigged
Is he a prince or a pauper a pusher or a pimp
That dose his jealous thing reveal
To me while I smoke a bit of hemp.
Who is this God fellow
Is he married to human by the power of a prayer
And why is it that he should even care
Who is this God fellow and what’s the reason why
Did he murder the last poet when he thought to cry
Who is this God fellow and why are his blessings to live
Only by the hands of priest that are stingy to give
Who the reason and what’s the reason why
That a small rain should collect in his eyes.
poem by David E. Patton
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Johnny Speaks
THE sand-man he's a jolly old fellow,
His face is kind and his voice is mellow,
But he makes your eyelids as heavy as lead,
And then you got to go off to bed;
I don't think I like the sand-man.
But I've been playing this livelong day;
It does make a fellow so tired to play!
Oh, my, I'm a-yawning right here before ma,
I'm the sleepiest fellow that ever you saw.
I think I do like the sand-man.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Young Fellow My Lad
"Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,
On this glittering morn of May?"
"I'm going to join the Colours, Dad;
They're looking for men, they say."
"But you're only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad;
You aren't obliged to go."
"I'm seventeen and a quarter, Dad,
And ever so strong, you know."
* * * *
"So you're off to France, Young Fellow My Lad,
And you're looking so fit and bright."
"I'm terribly sorry to leave you, Dad,
But I feel that I'm doing right."
"God bless you and keep you, Young Fellow My Lad,
You're all of my life, you know."
"Don't worry. I'll soon be back, dear Dad,
And I'm awfully proud to go."
* * * *
"Why don't you write, Young Fellow My Lad?
I watch for the post each day;
And I miss you so, and I'm awfully sad,
And it's months since you went away.
And I've had the fire in the parlour lit,
And I'm keeping it burning bright
Till my boy comes home; and here I sit
Into the quiet night.
* * * *
"What is the matter, Young Fellow My Lad?
No letter again to-day.
Why did the postman look so sad,
And sigh as he turned away?
I hear them tell that we've gained new ground,
But a terrible price we've paid:
God grant, my boy, that you're safe and sound;
But oh I'm afraid, afraid."
* * * *
"They've told me the truth, Young Fellow My Lad:
You'll never come back again:
(Oh God! the dreams and the dreams I've had,
and the hopes I've nursed in vain!)
For you passed in the night, Young Fellow My Lad,
And you proved in the cruel test
Of the screaming shell and the battle hell
That my boy was one of the best.
"So you'll live, you'll live, Young Fellow My Lad,
In the gleam of the evening star,
In the wood-note wild and the laugh of the child,
In all sweet things that are.
And you'll never die, my wonderful boy,
While life is noble and true;
For all our beauty and hope and joy
We will owe to our lads like you."
poem by Robert William Service
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Look To The Rainbow (feat. Barbara Cook)
On the day I was born
Set me father said he
I've got an elegent legacy waiting for me
It's a rhyme for your lips
It's a song for your heart
To sing it whenever the world falls apart
Look, look , look to the rainbow
Follow it over the hills and stream
Look, look, look to the rainbow
Follow the fellow who follows our dream
It was a sumtuous gift
To beguife to a child
Or the lore of that song kept her feet running wild
For you never grow old
And you never stand still
With whipper will singing beyond the next hill
Look, look , look to the rainbow
Follow it over the hills and stream
Look, look, look to the rainbow
Follow the fellow who follows a dream
Strike one me heart and I roam the world free
To the east with a lark
To the west with the sea
And I searched all the Earth
And I scanned all the sky
But I found it at last
In my own true love's eyes
Look, look , look to the rainbow
Follow it over the hills and stream
Look, look, look to the rainbow
Follow the fellow who follows the dream
Follow the fellow
Follow the fellow
Follow the fellow
Who follows the dream
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youre A Lucky Guy
Sammy cahn / saul chaplin
Youre a lucky guy when you consider
The highest bidder cant buy
The gleam in your eyes
Youre a lucky guy
Thank you lucky stars
Youve got a honey who wants no money
Shell take you just as you are
Thank you lucky stars
Hey fellow, say fellow
Dont you realise its fated, you rated
Open up your eyes
Youre lucky guy
Youre just beginning so have your inning
And let your troubles boom by
No one can deny youre a lucky guy
Hey fellow, say fellow
Look at mr. jones
Hes there and hes staring
Even he must know
Youre a lucky guy
So why not treasure your highest pleasure
And live right up till you die
No one can deny boy
Youre a lucky guy
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works - A Lonely Kind Of Fellow
I’m just a lonely kind of fellow
who’s in love with a beautiful girl.
I’m just a lonely kind of fellow
and to me this girl means the world.
Though I love her, so much it hurts me
I cannot tell her I feel this way.
I’ve been a loner all my life now
and a loner I fear I’ll stay.
I’m just a lonely kind of fellow
who’s in love for the very first time.
I’m just a lonely kind of fellow
with love breaking this heart of mine.
Date unknown.
poem by David Harris
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What I say is that, if a fellow really likes potatoes, he must be a pretty decent sort of fellow.
quote by A.A. Milne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The fellow that can only see a week ahead is always the popular fellow, for he is looking with the crowd. But the one that can see years ahead, he has a telescope but he can't make anybody believe that he has it.
quote by Will Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And yet I would not freely exchange my science for those of my fellow laureates. They are forever confined in their professional discussions to the small numbers of their fellow scientists.
quote by George Stigler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God saw fit, for wise reasons to allow the people of Israel thus to make and possess slaves; but is this any license to us to enslave any of our fellow-men, to kill any of our fellow-men whom we please and are able to destroy, and take possession of their estates?
quote by Samuel Hopkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Philadelphia Revised
The sad images of Philadelphia popped out of my eyes today
And I could see the streets of Philadelphia where the homeless sleeps
And freeze to death
While Politicians, doctors, Dentists, lawyers, teachers, and nurses get rich
Day by day
But the homeless freeze to death in the streets of Philadelphia and even die
But I have to ask all of you fellow americans where is your heart?
And doesn't charity starts at home first?
Don't you have anything at home that you could give away to the Homeless so they could have something either to wear or to eat?
Why can't we feed the homeless?
I can't understand you fellow Americans?
Please put yourself in their shoes for a day and try to picture what do they Have to go throw everyday
Is it right for the homeless to sleep in the streets and freeze and eventualy Die in the streets of Philadelphia?
Would you fellow Americans go few days without eating?
I don't think so
Why should the homeless that lives in the streets of Philadelphia starve?
Fellow Americans it is time to think about others and not just yourself Because others live In America just like you
Fellow Americans do you have a heart?
Fellow Americans did you ever learned to share what you have with Others?
Fellow Americans America is a sad world because we waste 98% of our Food at home, restaurants, and supermarkets
And all that wasted food ends up in the dump
It is so ashame and so sad at the same time
But the truth is that we are running out of food
And there is not enough food to feed anyone in America
But the cost of food keeps going up
Because we have to pay the American farmers who plants the food and Transport the food to the supermarkets
poem by Aldo Kraas
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But I still love you (Russian romance)
You play with me and I can see it,
Sometimes you even laugh at me,
Sometimes I hate you, dear fellow,
Sometimes I pray to be with you.
Can't find the treatment to forget you,
There are much sorrow in my heart,
Though you just show off my dear
But anyway I still love you.
So many hearts were broken by you
But you don't care and hell with you!
You never loved my dear fellow
And love is not to come with you.
My hope is only consolation,
Yes, I still hope and I endure,
You are so heartless I am sure
But anyway I still love you.
But may be time will come, my dear
And one day you will fall in love.
You'll stop to laugh, my dear fellow
And passion will excite your blood.
I'll see your sufferings, my dear,
My torments I'll make up, be sure.
I wish you just the same torments
But anyway I....still.... love you.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Banquet Night
"ONCE in so often," King Solomon said,
Watching his quarrymen drill the stone,
"We will curb our garlic and wine and bread
And banquet together beneath my Throne,
And all Brethren shall come to that mess
As Fellow-Craftsmen-no more and no less."
"Send a swift shallop to Hiram of Tyre,
Felling and floating our beautiful trees,
Say that the Brethren and I desire
Talk with our Brethren who use the seas.
And we shall be happy to meet them at mess
As Fellow-Craftsmen-no more and no less."
"Carry this message to Hiram Abif-
Excellent master of forge and mine :-
I and the Brethren would like it if
He and the Brethren will come to dine
(Garments from Bozrah or morning-dress)
As Fellow-Craftsmen-no more and no less."
"God gave the Cedar their place-
Also the Bramble, the Fig and the Thorn-
But that is no reason to black a man's face
Because he is not what he hasn't been born.
And, as touching the Temple, I hold and profess
We are Fellow-Craftsmen-no more and no less."
So it was ordered and so it was done,
And the hewers of wood and the Masons of Mark,
With foc'sle hands of Sidon run
And Navy Lords from the ROYAL ARK,
Came and sat down and were merry at mess
As Fellow-Craftsmen-no more and no less.
The Quarries are hotter than Hiram's forge,
No one is safe from the dog-whip's reach.
It's mostly snowing up Lebanon gorge,
And it's always blowing off Joppa beach;
But once in so often, the messenger brings
Solomon's mandate : "Forget these things!
Brother to Beggars and Fellow to Kings,
Companion of Princes-forget these things!
Fellow-Craftsmen, forget these things!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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And so, my fellow americans, ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country. My fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
John F. Kennedy in Inaugural address (20 January 1961)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Condolence
O my fellow sufferers, songs of my youth,
A lot of asses praise you because you are 'virile',
We, you, I! We are 'Red Bloods'!
Imagine it, my fellow sufferers
Our maleness lifts us out of the ruck,
Who'd have foreseen it?
O my fellow sufferers, we went out under the trees,
We were in especial bored with male stupidity.
We went forth gathering delicate thoughts,
Our ‘fantastikon’ delighted to serve us.
We were not exasperated with women,
for the female is ductile.
And now you hear what is said to us:
We are compared to that sort of person
Who wanders about announcing his sex
As if he had just discovered it.
Let us leave this matter, my songs,
and return to that which concerns us.
poem by Ezra Pound
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The lucky fellow loses his wife, the unlucky fellow loses his horse.
Kerosene Dove
From the dithering distance
The fountain puke swelling
In the belly of the sedentary sheens
Excoriating the cobbled streets
In the void knots of the theme park:
Amused with clockwork courtesy
And a tethering idiosyncrasy,
But the azure moiré of the canopy
Was no better than the soigné hostility
Imploding a muted friction;
A compulsion in its best
That scathes the incrustations
Of a reticent fellow in the flue
Clipping the flustering plumes
In the comport of a king
Ousted from his throne
Injecting the secrets to the bones
That where hollow in constitution.
Our fellow dove made of kerosene
Opted the safety in the blear of the scene
Suffocating on the surfeit effervesce of coos
While the soupcon quintessence kicked and flew
Far from the cotillion of the pendulums
And the infelicitous instigator of the palming odium,
But in the frangible hurls of the paroxysm
Beneath the torpor of his brooding wings
Is a fire that consoles the condoles of bliss
Yearning for the violent daze of the setting sun
To flick the yawning switch of shuffled impulse
Clipping itself to branch out in deeper fathoms
In the bosom of a cavern with smoldering fences
The wafting with the winnows of inadequacy
Lingering in the air will gyrate to enthuse
The urges of sadomasochism in the kerosene
Lathering and inebriating our taciturn fellow
With pseudo-valiancy and its kiths and kins
Thus, he will hurtle unfettered by any string
And he shall kiss the pregnant gloaming
Allowing its fingers to seize and grate
The lithe feathers bristling to scintillate
With the ignition of the kerosene
And the air shall stop breathing
And fanning the implosion of whim
To watch the dove incinerate
Slithering in austere vividness
Into a surreal orb of quasar
Sending the sun to abeyance
While singing the swansong in synergy;
The demise in an esoteric lilt
Humming in a whispering sift.
poem by Norman Santos
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Merit is not correctly measured.
An actress decries her fellow artist in secret.
A leader criticizes his rival in public.
A painter probes his fellow painters’.
But the public admire theirs without reservation.
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bumblebee
Buzzing bumblebee
you just might be the cutest
thing today I've seen.
Your black and yellow
jacket, awkwardness of flight.
Amusing fellow
This black and burly
fellow that visits different
flowers all day long.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Early Works - Tooter
For Maurice Callard
The Great Gatsby in his forte
from the old man’s tears
to a group twinkling in the garden.
Alas, this is not my exercise,
I am supposing to big head the tooter.
I am supposing to what?
Oh yes, what he represents to me.
Well, let me see
a fellow author, a good-looking fellow.
Yes, I would agree with these.
Now what about his bad points?
You say he hasn’t any.
Well just one or two.
What are they you ask?
You cannot think of any at the moment.
Well, never mind we’ll discuss the good points in some depth.
A fellow author.
Well, yes, he is good in fact,
some might even say quite brilliant.
A good-looking fellow.
Well, with the romantic look of Robert Redford
and ruggedness of Clint Eastwood
need I say anymore?
A good teacher,
I don’t think there are any complaints.
Look, I’ve been going for five years,
but maybe I’m a slow learner!
A very helpful fellow.
Yes, I would agree with this.
I agree with anything,
but above all my comedy
and jest my work purposes.
I find him a good friend and honest critic
no author could ask for more.
25 March 1981
Authors Note:
This was written tongue-in-cheek about my good friend for nearly twenty years. When I read this out at one of his classes, everyone had a good laugh including Maurice himself. To me he was not only a teacher, friend but at times a surrogate father as my own father had no time for my writing. Although he is no longer with us all who knew him, miss him.
poem by David Harris
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