Bus 8
Bus 8
On the bus 8, to Garston I met my future wife I was going
to meet someone at the British Legion there, something
about a job on a ship. At an outdoor we bought cans of
coke and also bottle of rum, the job thing was forgotten
I thought she was the most understanding woman I had
ever met. A fortnight later we got married, people I didn’t
like much, brothers in laws, came to our reception.
Dreams never last, like a worker’s money, woke up one
morning; no smell of coffee from downstairs she had gone
out and left a note: “Get a Job! ” Took a bus to Albert Dock,
a ship there, going to Murmansk, needed a cook I didn’t
hesitate, signed on, every morning made my own coffee
and everyone else’s. I would still like to know if she, when
coming back from Garston’s shopping centre, missed me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I Am Told
For forty four years now
Each morning I woke up
I go straight to prepare
A cup of coffee for my wife
It's a ritual that I do
For forty four years
Not that she asks for it
But it's what I love to do
Love is what commands me
To lit a kettle to boil a water
For she likes it when its so hot
A coffee she drinks quite early
Suddenly, now that it's our anniversary
I do the thing I 've been doing ever since
We got married for forty four years back
Yet for the first time I am told just so today
That the coffee I served her now tasted bad
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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The Blazing Hat, Part Two
This is the morning that we burnt a cardboard hat
flames licking the inside of the brim
This is the morning that the thunder hung like great
black flags over the city
stirred by gusts of wind
This is the morning that they opened a new motorway
leading from my house to yours
This is the morning that I decided I wasn't getting enough
roughage
and went on a diet of broken milk bottles
This is the morning that Death left her cloak behind
after the party
This is the morning that a beautiful schoolgirl woke me
with a cup of coffee
in a vision
This is the morning that we saw
words written on water
This is the morning that beautiful girls with Renaissance
faces played Hindemith records
at dawn
This is the morning after the night
before
This is the morning after the night
had strewn Canning Street with purple toilet rolls
This is the morning that we saw a q.yearold boy
whipping an imaginary blonde lovely
This is the morning that Death was a letter
that was never scented
This is the morning that the poet reached out for the
rolledup Financial Times
followed by a dreadful explosion
This is the morning that you woke up 50 miles away
seeing sunlight on the water
and didn't think of me
This is the morning that I bought 16 different kinds of
artificial liliesofthevalley
all of them smelling of you
This is the morning that we sat and talked
by the embers of the blazing hat.
poem by Adrian Henri
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Is it Tea or Coffee?
Is it Tea or Coffee?
Tell me!
My instant early morning dream
I like it black, white with sugar or cream!
The choice is free
Yet the mind cannot agree
With Tea is a Yippee!
With Coffee it is a Whoopee!
The thought of a little caffeine
The smell of fresh roasted beans
Will once again set off my adrenalin
While my exhausted brain is waiting
That stirring cup of sizzling black
Put on the kettle; spill the beans out of the sack
I will pay the fee; I will pay the levee
I will beg on one knee for a little bit of Coffee
Take a sip of the early morning coffee
Close your eyes and try to see
As you smell the airy aroma like a bee
Tea or Coffee! Perhaps you now understand me
Those swarms of dark brown seeds
They feed my vicious needs indeed
I don’t care how much I pee or how much I wee
For that sparking liquid of hot black called coffee
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Kimono
The Kimono
I was joining a ship in another town; mother followed me the railway station,
which was not far as we lived nearby? From the train I looked down at her and
saw what I had never seen, a woman with unkempt hair, in an old overcoat
with missing buttons and shoes that needed heeling. There were many other
people on the platform, but she stood out looking like a bag woman.
I felt ashamed and guilty for feeling embarrassed. When returning I will have
money to buy her a new coat, shoes and send her to a hairdresser, I thought.
The train moved forward and I waved as long as I could see her.
A year later my ship had just left Tokyo, bound for the Panama canal, when
the radio operator came into the galley with a cable, I could see in his face he
had no glad tiding. I sat in my cabin grieving, took out the kimono I had bought
her it was made of silk and was as soft as a mother’s embrace; and I cried.
A knock on my door it was the captain who said: “No time for tears son, crew
needs to be fed and you are the cook.“ That night and many nights thereafter
I was lulled asleep by the ship’s steady heartbeat.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Coffee!
Coffee beans all ground up,
Coffee in my favourite cup,
Coffee black, coffee white,
Coffee dark, coffee light,
Coffee right, to start the day,
Coffee at work, coffee at play,
Coffee midday, coffee at night,
Coffee to sober, coffee to excite,
Coffee weak, coffee strong,
But maybe instead some Lapsang Souchong! ! ! !
TEA! ! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Dear John
(vocals by john prine)
When i woke up this morning
There was a note upon my door
Saying " don't make me no coffee, babe
Cause i won't be back no more"
And that's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now jonah got along in the belly of a whale
Daniel in the lion's den
I know a guy that didn't try to get along
And he won't get a chance again
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
She didn't forward no address
No she never said goodbye
All she said was "if you get blue
Just hang your little head and cry"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now my gal's short and stubby
She's mean as she can be
If that little old gal of mine
Ever gets a hold of me
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i fetched your saddle home"
Went down to the bank this morning
The cashier said with a grin
I'm sorry for you little john
But your wife has done been in
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Happiest Day
It was early May, I think
a moment of lilac or dogwood
when so many promises are made
it hardly matters if a few are broken.
My mother and father still hovered
in the background, part of the scenery
like the houses I had grown up in,
and if they would be torn down later
that was something I knew
but didn't believe. Our children were asleep
or playing, the youngest as new
as the new smell of the lilacs,
and how could I have guessed
their roots were shallow
and would be easily transplanted.
I didn't even guess that I was happy.
The small irritations that are like salt
on melon were what I dwelt on,
though in truth they simply
made the fruit taste sweeter.
So we sat on the porch
in the cool morning, sipping
hot coffee. Behind the news of the day--
strikes and small wars, a fire somewhere--
I could see the top of your dark head
and thought not of public conflagrations
but of how it would feel on my bare shoulder.
If someone could stop the camera then...
if someone could only stop the camera
and ask me: are you happy?
perhaps I would have noticed
how the morning shone in the reflected
color of lilac. Yes, I might have said
and offered a steaming cup of coffee.
poem by Linda Pastan
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She's Leaving Home
Wednesday morning at five o'clock
As the day begins
Silently closing her bedroom door
Leaving the note that she hoped would say more
She goes downstairs to the kitchen
Clutching her handkerchief
Quietly turning the back door key
Stepping outside she is free
She (we gave her most of our lives)
Is leaving (sacrificed most of our lives)
Home (we gave her everything money could buy)
She's leaving home after living alone for
So many years (bye bye)
Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown
Picks up the letter that's lying there
Standing alone at the top of the stairs
She breaks down and cries to her husband
Daddy our baby's gone
Why would she treat us so thoughtlessly
How could she do this to me
She (We never thought of ourselves)
Is leaving (never a thought for ourselves)
Home (we struggled hard all our lives to get by)
She's leaving home after living alone for
So many years (bye bye)
Friday morning at nine o'clock she is far away
Waiting to keep the appointment she made
Meeting a man from the motor trade
She (what did we do that was wrong)
Is having (we didn't know it was wrong)
Fun (fun is the one thing that money can't buy)
Something inside that was always denied for
So many years (bye bye)
She's leaving home (bye bye)
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mixed Memory
A Mixed Memory
When mother made gateau for someone’s birthdays
I beat the cream using a steel whisker. Boring work
before the cream thickened and could be spread on
the cake, but it was worth it, as I got to lick bowl.
I thought of this as a tempest whipped the sea into
a froth. In the galley I had a mix-master and could
whisk up cream in no time, only I didn’t have the real
stuff, had to use condensed milk but I didn’t feel
inclined to lick its residue. The tempest blew into
storm, the ship was jumping about like an untrained
colt refusing to have a rider on its back. Life boats
smashed, ship railings too we only hoped she could
ride out the storm. In Hamburg I walked ashore and
ate a piece of Black Forest Gateau, awe-inspiring.
And to sit in a coffee shop that didn’t throw me off
my chair like demented colt.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Early Sunday Morning
I used to mock my father and his chums
for getting up early on Sunday morning
and drinking coffee at a local spot
but now I’m one of those chumps.
No one cares about my old humiliations
but they go on dragging through my sleep
like a string of empty tin cans rattling
behind an abandoned car.
It’s like this: just when you think
you have forgotten that red-haired girl
who left you stranded in a parking lot
forty years ago, you wake up
early enough to see her disappearing
around the corner of your dream
on someone else’s motorcycle
roaring onto the highway at sunrise.
And so now I’m sitting in a dimly lit
café full of early morning risers
where the windows are covered with soot
and the coffee is warm and bitter.
poem by Edward Hirsch
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Just When I Need You The Most (feat. Alison Krauss)
(Randy VanWarmer)
You packed in the morning
I stared out the window
And I struggled for something to say
You left in the rain without closing the door
I didn't stand in your way
Now I miss you more
Than I missed you before
And now where I'll find comfort, God knows
'Cause you left me
Just when I needed you most
Yes, you left me
Just when I needed you most
Now most every morning
I stare out the window
I think about where you might be
I've written you letters that I'd like to send
If you would just send one to me
'Cause I need you more
Than I needed before
And now where I'll find comfort, God knows
'Cause you left me
Just when I needed you most
Yes, you left me
Just when I needed you most
You packed in the morning
I stared out the window
And I struggled for something to say
You left in the rain without closing the door
I didn't stand in your way
Now I love you more
Than I loved you before
And now where I'll find comfort, God knows
'Cause you left me
Just when I needed you most
You left me
Just when I needed you most
Oh, you left me
Just when I needed you most
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby
Baby, it's alright
Stop your crying
Now
Nothing is here to stay
Everything has to begin and end
A ship in a bottle won't sail
All we can do is dream that the wind will blow us across the water
A ship in a bottle set sail
Baby, it's alright
Stop your crying, now
There was a weakling man
Who dreamed he was strong as a hurricane
A ship in a bottle set sail
He took a deep breath and blew across the world
He watched everything crumble
Woke up a weakling again
Some might tell you there's no hope in angels
Just because they feel hopeless
But you don't have to be a thing like that
You be a ship in a bottle set sail
Baby, it's alright
Stop your crying, now
It's alright
So stop your crying, now
Be a ship in a bottle set sail
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was much too hot
It was much too hot
in that Pick-a-Pay shopping centre
in the middle of a Pretoria summer
and something went awry
with the air-conditioning
which was blowing hot air.
We had two trolleys full of groceries,
bought our budget for the month
and your face was red pink
covered in gleaming sweat.
Two girls passed in the isle
holding hands
and looking as if
they were much more
than friends.
You bended down
to get some coffee
and the first
that I noticed them
was when one cursed
at you and then at me
to get out of their way.
There were a million things
that I could say back,
but it occurred to me
that they could pass anyhow
and that their manners
were totally lacking
which I made clear.
At the row at the cashier
you spotted them again
and realized that you know one
from somewhere
and gave her your mind
and she didn’t know
what to say back
and blushed tomato red.
We passed the Wimpy
on our way to the car
and I herded you there
where they had
bottomless Coca Cola,
burgers and fries.
Our money was tight
but we enjoyed ourselves
drinking one glass
after another
and a father, mother
and two children
came to the neighbouring table.
He was unsteady on his feet
and his speech
proclaimed him being drunk
and he had probably already
started drinking brandy and beer
long before the afternoon’s rugby match
and he had a lot of patience
with their children
and they didn’t notice his state,
but embarrassment was written
over the face
of the poor woman
who could have faded away
while he loudly
made a fool of himself.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Morning Night And Day
One time didn't do it
Two times didn't feel quite right
I didn't know where i was going
I just knew that i would be alright
I woke up in a druken haze
The sun shone to my window?
I said that i'd never do it again
What kind of fool do you think i am?
It happens
It always seems to happen
Morning night and day
I just want some action
Give me satisfaction
Send me to my?
Morning night and day
I had a good time late last night
I didn't think it would ever end
I walked home in a broad day light
Couldn't get a cab at half past five
One drink wouldn't do it
Two drinks are far too much
I didn't know what i was doing
I ate the floor and a pile of dust
It happens
It always seems to happen
Morning night and day
I just want some action
Give me satisfaction
Send me to my?
Morning night and day
So if you think that it won't get you
Well think again friend 'cause it's not true
In my case, it was not my fault
Other people made that call
One time didn't do it
Two times didn't feel quite right
It happens
It always seems to happen
No matter what i say
Morning night and day
I just want some action
Need some satisfaction
Before it gets too late
Send me to my?
Morning night and day
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dog Power
Dog Power
Abandoned she was and hungry so I took her home. she was scared and hid under
the kitchen sink. I put water and food out and went to bed. She ate it all.
In the morning she came out and made it clear she wanted to go out. Well she did
her business and came back in. When she was two years old she grabbed a packet
of cigarettes from the table and tore it up. So I stopped smoking. People had
implored me to stop, no awhile, she did the trick. I never liked having visitors in
the evening but was too polite to say so. Well. She fixed that to. The only thing she
hated was having a bath. After having one she pretended I didn’t exist until
neighbour told her how nice she looked. She didn’t like female dogs, male dogs
she made short shrift of. She woke me up in the morning and if I sat still too long
writing she took me for walk. She had trained me so well that the day she died
I felt quite helpless and didn’t know what to do the following day.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Picture of Confidence
In Bermuda
shorts on a cold morning
he wheeled his shopping cart,
a little recklessly,
up to the side
door of the cafe',
pulled out a stainless
steel, covered mug
and splashed the steaming, old
coffee into the gutter,
then came in for a refill.
Long, straight hair shining,
a smile lit his face
as if all of us
warm, secure people
should envy him.
He came out of nowhere,
got his coffee,
and was gone
with the cart,
humming into the cold
morning air.
Java Blues
Rick danko
I walked into a diner
And the blonde behind the counter
She asked if she could help in any way
Hell, I knew by her smile
Her number I could dial
If I was in the need of company
But as I bought some java
Instead she brought me a cup of chicory
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
Dont pour me water just fill up my cup
You know it takes a lot just to keep me up
Cost may be more than you care to pay
What good is money compared to fightin pain
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
The taste of java is like a cocaine rush
Nobodys gonna stop me from drinkin too much
Down in bolivia the people are insane
They want as much for coffee as they do for cocaine
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
The coffees got me now..
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
I got the java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh the coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues!
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pill Box
I woke up early this morning
And didn’t know what day it was
Until I walked to the kitchen
And spotted my pill dispenser
Sitting on the oaken table
Placed there by my loving wife
Before my angel left for work;
Looking at the seven day-marked
Cells just piqued me at that moment:
To think at this phase of my life
A pill box was my calendar.
I looked at the empty cells marked
“S”, “M” and “T” and realized
This morning has to be Wednesday.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Island Of Souls
Billy was born within sight of the shipyard
First son of a riveters son
And billy was raised as the ship grew a shadow
Her great hull would blot out the light of the sun
And six days a week he would watch his poor father
A working man live like a slave
Hed drink every night and hed dream of a future,
Of money he never would save
And billy would cry when he thought of the future
Soon came a day when the bottle was broken
They launched the great ship out to sea
He felt hed been left on a desolate shore
To a future he desperately wanted to flee
What else was there for a shipbuilders son
A new ship to be built, new work to be done
One day he dreamed of the ship in the world
It would carry his father and he
To a place they would never be found
To a place far away from this town.
Trapped in the cage of the skeleton ship
All the workmen suspended like flies
Caught in the flare of acetylene light
A working man works till the industry dies
And billy would cry when he thought if the future
Then what they call an industrial accident
Crushed those it couldnt forgive
They brought billys father back home in an ambulance
A brass watch, a cheque, maybe three weeks to live,
And what else was there for a riveters son
A new ship to be built, new work to be done
That night, he dreamed of the ship in the world
It would carry his father and he
To a place they could never be found
To a place far away from this town,
A newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the island of souls.
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homeland Africa
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi
Down the ocean a ship comes sailing through the waves
Filled with hundreds of men they take as slaves
Just long for their true homeland africa
And to be saved they want to be free
Men women and babyslaves
Coming to the land of liberty, liberty
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi...
They are tired of waiting for a brand new day
Some of them sing and chant some of them pray
And some men got a little tired too
No one knows if the journey pay
Men women and babyslaves
Coming to the land of liberty, liberty
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi...
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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