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Stalker

The Stalker

Liverpool 1974 and it wasn’t raining, sat in a café, at the pedestrian precinct,
the coffee was awful, tasted like milky tea, when I saw her. She was daintily
munching a cheese sandwich with, and drank a cup of tea.Her skin was silky
she had green eyes, red hair and I just knew she was Irish. She looked up and
smiled. I panicked, and pretended to read “Liverpool Echo.” She waited for
me to make a move, paralyzed with shyness I could not. Finally she got up,
I followed; by the Victoria monument she took bus eight to Garston. Now it
was overcast and soft rain fell; she waved as the bus passed me. I thought
of following the bus in a cab to see where she got off, but it was no good
I had hesitated too long, whatever I did next she would think I was a stalker.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Smile

At a cafe in Liverpool I sat eating bacon butty
washed down with milky tea, wife had left me
and I was feeling glum. A woman at a far table
looked at me and smiled. An overcast day, felt
as the sun had come out. I didn’t know what to
say or do so I looked out of the window rain.
Her boyfriend came, they left, but she sent me
another smiling glance
Knew I would be OK.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Don't Fear The Stalker

Real estate has come
Here but now they're gone
Jason doesn't fear the reaper
Nor do Eli, Alex or Taylor
We should be like they are

Come on baby...Don't fear the stalker
Baby take my camera...Don't fear the stalker
We'll be able to walk...Don't fear the stalker
Baby I have your camera

The cake is done
flies came and ate it but now their gone
Jay and Brett
Are together in eternity
Jason's coming every day...watching Jay and Brett
Eli's coming everyday... rebake the cake
Taylor's coming everyday...to watch TLC

Come on baby...Don't fear the stalker
Baby take my camera...Don't fear the stalker
Watching you everywhere...Don't fear the stalker
Watching you forever

The police had come
Here but now they're gone
Came last night of therapy
And it was clear she couldn't walk
The door was open and the cat appeared
The camera flashed and then disappeared
The curtain blew and he appeared
Saying don't be afraid

Come on baby...then she got off the wheelchair
And then she tripped and fell on him
Then they started to walk out the door
They went forward and said good bye

She had become like they are
She had taken his camera
Then took a picture of them
She had melted his heart of ice
She had taken the cake
She had become like they are

Come on baby...Don't fear the stalker
...Don't fear the stalker

poem by Lilith Rose Reitenbach
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We spent last night listening to Liverpool football team on the radio, wanting them to win so badly. Paul supports Liverpool. He was Everton for a while because of his family - but it's all Liverpool now.

quote by Linda McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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1974

The sun is shining hard at my feet
And the city is an animal ready to eat
It's raining like a nose bleed, cigarettes and sweets
And I feel it coming on
Bloody as the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
She isn't crazy
She's just not impressed
She stabs me with her eyes
Dirty knives hidden in her dress
And it's raining like bombs in my room when I'm alone
And I swear I think I knew you before
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Do you want it, do you want it, do you want it, come on
Do you want it, do you want it, come on just bring it on
Nothing gonna stop it now
But nothing
Do you want it, come on
Do you want it, do you want it, come on just bring it on
It's 1974
It's 1974
It's 1974
It's 1974

song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hillsborough

Tears of angels fell on Liverpool’s streets,
Waves of the Mersey woke from their sleep,
The Liver Bird’s head hung in grief,
Hillsborough’s terracing became a thief.

Nothing can soothe a mother’s broken heart
As her tears have stained a Liverpool scarf,
The Kop stood, in a cold quiet silence
As 96 souls never got a chance to say goodbye.

The Leppings Lane end was the killing field of football
As the Liverpool fans had traveled for a FA Cup semi-final,
Blind with ignorance was the Sheffield police force
As they crushed the fans into, what was like a garden fence.

Through the eyes of this Celtic supporter,
I was one of football’s mourners,
The passion had gone from the beautiful game
When wreathes of sadness bore Liverpool’s name.

Bill Shankly, one of Liverpool’s greats,
Waited for the 96 souls at heaven‘s gates,
As they watch the likes of Owen & Heskey,
Restore the pride and glory back to the Mersey.

The seas of injustice will rise in time
As Liverpool will always remember April’15th 1989,
The eternal candle will burn for those who were lost,
And will burn even brighter when justice is served.

poem by Daniel McDonagh
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Going Down To Liverpool

(k. rew)
Debbie
Hey now
Where you going with that load of nothing in your hand
I said, hey now
All through this green and pleasant land.
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
Hey there
Where you going with that ub40 in your hand
I said, hey there.
All through this green and pleasant land
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
All the days of my life
All the days of my life.
Hey now
Where you going with that ub40 in your hand
I said hey now
All through this green and pleasant land
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
Im going down to liverpool to do nothing
All the days of my life
All the days of my life

song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crazy Little Stalker Named Mike

This stalker named Mike he just can't handle it
This stalker named Mike he just can't get over it
He's so loco
Crazy little stalker named Mike

This stalker named Mike (named Mike)
He cries (Like a baby)
In a cradle all night
He screams (whoo hoo)
He moans
He shakes all over like a lunatic
I once kinda loved him
Now I more then kinda hate him
Wish that I could just get rid of him
Crazy little stalker named Mike

There goes his mind
He's losing his grip on reality that's for sure
He drives me crazy
He gives my computer viruses and so much damn spyware
Then he cries when I won't take him back
Breaking out in cool cool sweat
Wondering how he next try to get my attention

Boy needs to learn how to be cool, relax, get off my back
Hit the road Mike
Hitch-hike
And maybe take a fatal ride on the back of a psycho's motorbike
Just leave me the hell alone
Crazy little stalker named Mike

poem by Ramona Thompson
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Rosebank

From the village of Rosebank the hills look so green
A beautiful country as fine as i've seen
A gem of the mountains on the higher ground
Is this quiet little village with hills all around.

In the Green Frog cafe i go back in time
A bard of the old school sat crafting his rhyme
His long hair and long beard seemed whiter than gray
And he sat in the cafe and wrote every day.

In the 'Green Frog' each morning for an hour or two
He sipped his coffee looking out on the view
He took in the beauty it came out in words
The green of the woods and the songs of the birds.

He sat in the cafe this maker of song
And sipped on his coffee and he thought hard and long
And he gazed on those mountains and song to him came
And he died old and poor though he lives on in fame.

And though the bard for long years has now lain with the dead
His verses survive and by many still read
And the mountains of Rosebank that gave him his rhyme
Are still green as ever unfaded by time.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Real Art

Real Art

I woke up a blue neon light, outside my hotel room,
kept lightning up my space, I looked out and saw
a man in a cafe sitting by the counter eating a burger,
he had hat on and looked ca 1948.

Knew I was in an Edward Hopper painting but didn’t
want to be a part of his bleak cityscape of lone men
who live in cheap hotels and drink coffee in a cafe,
which clientele are lost souls like me.

I splashed water in my face adjusted my tie put my
hat on and walked out, a cab drove by looking for
a fare, I opened the cafe’s door, the man with hat had
gone, drank coffee and ate a doughnut.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Seek and Thou Shall Find

I stopped to ask this young woman for directions,
she hesitated then said, “Now let me see”.
Her voice was clear, soft and gentle,
and she smiled politely at me.

The directions she gave me were complicated,
but as it happened she lived close by the place,
so she said she would walk so far with me
and as I said thank you, another smile lit up her face.

Our talking passed the time away very quickly
and she said, “This is as far as I go.”
She then asked if I had got time for a coffee
and I said, “How could I possibly say no.”

We talked as we walked up to her apartment,
and coffee was my only intent.
We talked and drank coffee until after midnight,
but then our hands touched by accident.

Our fingers searched out for each other’s
and we kissed as our hands held tight.
Our hands then touched each others body’s
and we knew I would be staying the night.

We were both trembling with excitement
and kissed as our clothes fell to the floor.
We caressed and kissed each other all over
and made love again and again, and once more.

We both collapsed and fell asleep on the carpet,
and were awakened by the morning light.
Once again we covered each other with kisses
and made love until the sun shone bright.

I never did get to the place I was searching,
but I did find true love on the way.
We decided to live together
and I’m moving in today.

poem by Orlando Belo
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When West End Girls came out on import, I was a student at Liverpool University. I'd go to a club in Liverpool and it would come on, and I'd be really embarrassed.

quote by Chris Lowe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rachel and You and The Day Trip

It was a day trip out
to some seaside place
arranged by the Gospel church
for kids whose parents

were poor
and having got on the coach
you sat in a seat
by the window

and waved at your mother
standing on the pavement
along Rockingham Street
and she waved back

then this girl sat beside you
who you didn't know
and she smiled and said
all right if I sit here?

sure
you said
and looked back out
at your mother

and waved again
and she waved back
and you thought
who is this girl?

and why is she
sitting next to me?
and she looked at out
the window

and waved to her mother
who started talking
to your mother
and they both waved back

to you and the girl
and you said
do you want to sit
by the window?

and she said
ok yes that'd be nice
and so she got out
and you got out

then she got in
and sat
by the window
and you sat

down beside her
and then the coach
started up
and drove off

and you both waved
at your mothers
until they were out of sight
and the girl turned

and said
I'm Rachel
this is my first time
to the seaside

and you said
you can walk around
with me if you want to
and she said

that'd be good
I don't know
anyone else here
and so she did

all day
walked around with you
along the beach
and on the sands

making sandcastles
and in the cafe
where they took you all
for a meal

of fish and chips
and she talked
and talked
and smiled

and laughed
and once she took
hold of your hand
and it seemed

for a while
that she was happy
at least it seemed so
by the width of her smile.

poem by Terry Collett
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The Beatles

The Beatles released a record
way back in Nineteen Sixty Two
so it's now been Fifty years
since the Fab Four said Love me Do.
I grew up listening to them
me and my sister thought they were cool
John, Paul, George, and Ringo,
four young lads from Liverpool.
They took us on a Magical Mystery Tour
while Paul sang just Let it Be
we felt sad for all the lonely people
but sang along to Please, Please, Me.
We heard all about a Yellow Submarine
introduced to Sgt.Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band
then taken down a Long and Winding Road
while they shouted I Wanna Hold Your Hand.
I imagined what Strawberry Fields was like
tried to get inside Lady Madonna's head
I wanted to know who this Jude was?
and why the Submarine wasn't Liverpool's Red?
I also tried to picture a sad Eleanor Rigby
even though I knew she wasn't real
but that was what the Beatles did to you
their songs could make you think, wonder, and feel.
So it's been a half a century of music
fifty years since the Beatles came on the scene
but without doubt they are simply the best
the greatest Pop group that has ever been.

poem by Kevin Halls
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Brazilian Cafe

Grey Hospital and a Brazilian Café.

The hotel where I stayed served lousy coffee, insipid and milky.
I knew there was a Brazilian café nearby, on my way there walked
past the closed down city hospital. Grey walls dripping of uncured
diseases, graffiti and dead windows. Convert it into an office block,
but who wants to work there, a place haunted by cynical doctors and
indifferent nurses who stalk the halls at night waiting for their shift
to end so they can get out from this place of horror, and patients
they have lost interest in and can do nothing for. Tear it down and
throw the debris down a gully. At the Brazilian café the coffee was
strong and healthy; the staff, young, moved as dancers to the music
in the background. There is much of Africa in the Brazilian soul,
passionate, courageous; yet, sometimes, viciously moody.
The girl who served me coffee, smiled with lips and eyes, her skin
dark, glowing… fit. And the sad hospital faded into oblivion.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Puddled Up

She wasn't a sweet loving buttercup.
Not on that date we had when I picked her up!
She had a look on her that she wasn't taking 'no stuff'!
AND if I was to ever try to get some...
She would give it to me quietly,
And take it right back
When she thought I'd had enough!
She thought with me,
Her territory could be tough! ...'.; -) '

Mysterious with intensive curiousity...
I picked that right up,
When she was scanning me!
From head to toe...
Shoelace and lips!
Oh she was quick with her fast 'assessments'!

And I smiled innocently as it began to rain.
She asked me where I parked...
She didn't want to get wet,
Or her brand new shoes stained! '; -) '
Oh
I faught back the laughter
Because I knew how to ease this 'pain'!
I pretended to pull up my umbrella...
But I grabbed her hand and ran!
Her hair looked a mess.
She lost a shoe and ruined her dressed!
She fell into a puddle.
Puddled Up in soaking distressed!
And she turned to me,
Laughing and confessed...
'I LOVED what you did!
I feel like a kid.
And you're going to see,
With me you have the best!
I like to be tested...
And yours was the best test yet! '
'; -þ'...LOL

And we laughed and sat,
On the sidewalk without regret!
Just like children would...
When they like someone they've met!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Secret Stalker

The long-limbed leopard stared ahead
With longing in his eyes,
For he observed the prey that fled
From him in great surprise.
The creature panicked suddenly,
Its heartbeat oh so swift,
Chased by the leopard up a tree,
Its mighty weight to lift.

They prey was light upon its feet,
The branches to traverse,
The leopard wasn't quite so neat...
Things went from bad to worse...
The prey went through the lush green leaves
As if it didn't care,
The leopard lingered like all thieves
Who sense when to beware...

The prey was gone, he knew not how,
So he turned round displeased
To make his way across the bough
Because the hunt had ceased...
Through gritted teeth, he slowly made
His way back down to earth...
'Next time, ' he vowed, 'I'll make the grade!
I'll run for all I'm worth! '

Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Secret Stalker'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

poem by Denis Martindale
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The Girl Who Held Your Hand

You got on the coach
for the day trip
organized by the chapel people
for kids who were poor

and this girl
sat next to you
and said
you can be my boyfriend

for the day
and she took hold
of your hand
and gave it a squeeze

and you looked out
of the window
at your mother
standing there

looking up at the coach
and you thought
is this part of the deal?
Is this girl for real?

And Mother waved
and smiled
and you smiled
uneasily back

with the girl’s hand
holding yours
out of sight
and she looked

over your shoulder
and waved
but no one
waved back to her

because her mother
wasn’t there
maybe she was off somewhere
or had to go to work

or maybe
she was still in bed
with another uncle
beneath the sheets

and maybe
he was holding her hand
and she was holding
something you never knew

or cared about
just sitting there
waving to Mother
beneath a sky of blue.

poem by Terry Collett
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Slave Dealers Daughter

Ive been trying for so long
Trying to forget
The ports of northern africa and the man I met
He said he had a daughter
Maybe I could meet her
He thought I was a trader
Oh, that was how I met
That slave dealers daughter
Her eyes were black her hair was raven
Her skin was soft and brown
Eighteen years she looked a woman
I thought shed been around
Shed never met a jailbird? ? ?
I knew that she was lonely
She offered me her body
So I fell in love
With that slave dealers daughter
Her fathers men came after me
Trying to hunt me down
For three long years Ive hid my face
And run from town to town
She never met a jailbird
I knew that she was lonely
She offered me her body
So I fell in love
With that slave dealers daugther...

song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After No Replies

stalker faded
after no replies
to all insults

empty electronic
sad sick stalkers
need responses

no flame anger
no outbursts
no prey emotions

no stalker buzz
fazes poor lost stalkers
need medical helpers

without therapy
passion empty stalkers
reaffirm insult senses

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fridge Love.

Sighs...
The anticipation of beloveds fridge door opens with an oh so sigh-worthy.....
PING! ! ! followed by her own generous....
Sigh
She knows i shall ravish her
She really does not mind

The heart pitter patters as the eyes forage
Bounty hunter.... bessie bunters
Eyes dance as bambi's legs
Through the forest of cheese and things that please
And the odd banana dregs

Then
Chocolate... Coca-cola, all things that
Doth so.... tease
(but im on... yet another diet) so not permitted to eat as i do so please

I hate my skinny family the ones for which i dote
For whom i loving fill said fridge
With things I'd so love to munch
but wont

My mind is starved my stomaches gutted
My soul is crushed and spat
Ill walk away with just
A
Lettuce leaf
Convince my self... that
It is tasty its just devine
It is my just dessert
And watch my child with a big ice-cream
Boy it dunn arf hurt.....

..............................

im a fridge stalker
a fridge stalker
with a well rounded bum
but after three kids and a few happy mo's
i look just like my mum

poem by Karen Sinclair
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