The Schooner
The Schooner
On the flatland between the vales I could see the sea, had been
walking uphill for a long time now, after the plain it was downhill
and the way to the coast was easy enough only it was getting
cold and I wore a light navy uniform. (had been on furlough)
Then I saw a protestant house of worship, but it was there on its
own no other houses to be seen not even a lone light from a farm.
A window was open and since it was also getting dark I was tired
I climbed in and rested on a pew.
Fell asleep, awoke and heard organ music the church was full of
matelotes singing psalms. The pastor spoke about sin, redemption
and god’s glory, then his flock silently left. Dawn, I saw a magnificent
sunrise, continued my walk to coast.
In a morning open café I told a girl behind the counter where I had
slept, she looked confused as far as she knew the church was
torn down years ago since it was haunted, as it was built of planks
of a schooner that ran aground with loss of all hands.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
This House Is Haunted
I was sitting in my room, dark and gray and crying
Someone in my life I fear was at the point of dying
A cold wind blew right up my spine, it was the break of dawn
A little voice went deep inside told me she was gone
Oh...This house is haunted
Oh...That's how I want it to be
Oh...This house is haunted
You can always stay here with me...
No more singing, no more laughing, no more sunny days
She left and took the colors with her, buried in her grave
This is where we climbed the tower, this is where she fell
Then when her young heart stopped beating, I went to hell
Oh...This house is haunted
Oh...Ha....
Oh...This house is haunted
Ho...Oh...
You float through the living room, I watch my TV
I feel you sit down on the couch right here next to me
Then I feel your lips touch mine just like we used to do
I'm so happy all alone being here with you...
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coast To Coast
Last stop for a resolution
End of the line, is it confusion?
So go. Go see whats there for you
Nothing new, nothing new for you to use
I've got no new act to amuse you
I've got no desire to use you, you know
But anything that I could do, would never be good enough for you
If you can't help it then just leave it alone
Leave it alone, yeah, just forget it
It's really easy
I believe I'll forget it too
Still you're keepin' me around
Til I finally drag us both down
Streaming feathers out your hat
Yes I believe that's where it's at
You belong tagging along
And I belong in your zoo
So I wait for confirmation
That you're never gonna use your starting gun
Unless its me it sounds like being here just wasn't that much fun
Anything that I could do
Would never be good enough for you
If you can't help it then just leave it alone
Leave me alone, yeah, just forget it
It's really easy
I'll just forget it too
Coast to coast, coast to coast
I'll do what I can so you can be what you do
Coast to coast, coast to coast
I'll do everything I can so you can be what you do
Coast to coast, coast to coast
Circuit rider comes every fifth sunday
Oh my lord, I fell asleep one day
Anything that I could do
Is there anything that I could do
That someone doesn't do for you
That someone didn't do for you
That I haven't already done for you
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 67. When on my bed the moonlight fall
When on my bed the moonlight falls,
I know that in thy place of rest
By that broad water of the west,
There comes a glory on the walls:
Thy marble bright in dark appears,
As slowly steals a silver flame
Along the letters of thy name,
And o'er the number of thy years.
The mystic glory swims away;
From off my bed the moonlight dies;
And closing eaves of wearied eyes
I sleep till dusk is dipt in gray:
And then I know the mist is drawn
A lucid veil from coast to coast,
And in the dark church like a ghost
Thy tablet glimmers to the dawn.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cyber Cafe Embarrassment.
She embarrassed too much the moon,
And for the fact she enjoyed it the dawn,
Watching secretly not to open the truth,
But to open because of denials the moon,
I called a cyber cafe and school embarrassment,
She embarrassed too much the moon,
And setting her Dogs in watch the dawn,
But eyes open but couldn't see still,
She needs but denials the moon,
I called a cyber cafe distractions for Art,
She embarrassed too much the moon,
And brought in are confusions,
And still cannot understand still,
A naive may be the moon dawn,
I called in darkness cyber cafe embarrassment.
She embarrassed too much the moon,
And dash out and dash in of its different gimmicks,
For a confusion of no meaning,
For its beauty in glory,
They tried to catch but couldn't,
They tried to obstruct but its morning shine!
I called in its windy liars and denials,
She embarrassed too much the moon,
We spoke even if its called an unspoken words,
We spoke and communicate very silently,
We ate but very silenced also,
But denials in reality of its greed the moon,
I called its security what J. p Clark refers 'SEASONS OF OMEN',
I called cyber cafe embarrassment in-depth,
I called my cyber cafe embarrassment in lust of love!
A cyber distraction diaspora.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Window
All night long, by a distant bell,
The passing hours were notched
On the dark, while her breathing rose and fell,
And the spark of life I watched
In her face was glowing or fading, -- who could tell? --
And the open window of the room,
With a flare of yellow light,
Was peering out into the gloom,
Like an eye that searched the night.
Oh, what do you see in the dark, little window, and why do you fear?
"I see that the garden is crowded with creeping forms of fear:
Little white ghosts in the locust-tree, that wave in the night-wind's breath,
And low in the leafy laurels the larking shadow of death."
Sweet, clear notes of a waking bird
Told of the passing away
Of the dark, -- and my darling may have heard;
For she smiled in her sleep, while the ray
Of the rising dawn spoke joy without a word,
Till the splendor born in the east outburned
The yellow lamplight, pale and thin,
And the open window slowly turned
To the eye of the morning, looking in.
Oh, what do you see in the room, little window, that makes you so bright?
"I see that a child is asleep on her pillow, soft and white,
With the rose of life on her tips, and the breath of life in her breast,
And the arms of God around her as she quietly takes her rest."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Written In Aid Of The Leicester Lunatic Asylum.
Light ye the torch,--
The torch that hath expired;
The light with which was fired
Chamber and hall and porch:
But now the house is dark,
Its inmates rove in vain,
There shines but a bewildering spark:
Light ye the torch again!
Light ye the torch,--
It was a sacred flame,
From God in heaven it came:
All nature ye may search
To find a fire so bright,
And ye shall search in vain:
But quenched is all its glorious light:--
Light ye the torch again!
Light ye the torch,--
The ruthless winds have blown
Its tresses up and down,
Till it did scare and scorch,
Not bless: but one fell blast
Swept howling o'er the plain,
And left all darkness as it past;--
Light ye the torch again!
Light ye the torch,--
And ye shall blessed be:
Till many a bended knee
In chamber and in church
Shall serve ye: merciful,
Mercy ye shall obtain:
Your cup of glory shall be full:--
Light ye the torch again!
poem by Henry Alford
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City Bum
Its a cold night said the city bum
With a blanket on his shoulder
Sitting by the delaware
And the damp air gets colder
Morning is not even close
Thats when the church doors open
The night is long lonely night
But still hes not alone
When I was young look above
The heavens game me hope and spirit
Having lost my job and my true love
This bottle gives me spirit
Here this says the policeman
Kicking him from his warm grate
No bums here curse his soul
The cop was shot later that night on patrol
Morning comes
And the church was open
But it was full
There was no hoping
For some food or hot coffee
To greet this bitter day
In winter time
Spare some change the businessman
Spat and walked away
Later on in the businessmans day
His money was gone when his wallet misplaced
A cabbie passed mean and fast
Pushed a horn and gave a blast
Sprayed the bum with dirty slush
The bum was angry but he stayed hush
Two blocks later the cabbie rushed
The red light flashed
The city bus smashed the cab against the pole
The cab was gone and the cabbie was crushed
Day was fading and night came on
The shelters for nowhere is home
The bum cries lonesome tears
Tasted stale and bitter like beer
When he reached his cache
His blankets were gone
Stolen away
The bum cried more tears
The night grew old
He shivered still
Drew one more breath
I heard him moan
He passed that night at five am
The night was four below zero
The coldest night of the season
Without reason his blankets were stolen
A gypsy girl of fourteen sensed a strange eruption
In a crystal ball as clear as day
She watched a thief walk away
With two warm blankets underneath the bridge
He fell asleep the last deed he did
The thief in a rest rolled off a ledge
And drowned in a frozen cold
The gypsy girl she looked again
Into her crystal ball
She seen the bum take one last breath
He died and let his hair fall
Knowing the truth all powerful
Yet unsuspecting man
That same man
Thiefed upon, robbed upon, spat upon
Gone for all eternity
The gypsy girl curses society
The poor old bum
A burden and a bother
Was my only father
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Church Of Women
A lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Church of women is made out of milk
Which their love turns to butter -er -er
Church of women will have you give praise
With a laugh, bark and stutter -er -er
Like us men like us men they are nothing like us men
Men have gargoyles round their hearts
Im on my knees but dancing
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Church of women is making donations of loving and giving -ing -ing
Church of women performing that miracle raising the living -ing -ing
Like us men like us men will they ever like us men?
Men have thorns around their minds
Im on my mountain preaching
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Give em back their house: the walls, the doors, the floors and roof
And stop tryin to diet on the wafers and wine and submit were in control
Now lets put things right
Lets multiply the loves and kisses
til we have enough to love and eat forever
Want to worship at the church of women
I want to worship at the church of women now
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Ill breathe em in until my head goes spinning round
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Want to worship at the church of women
(repeat x3 and fade)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Betrayed
I WENT back to our home to-day
That still its robe of roses wore;
My feet took the old easy way,
And led me to our door.
And you are gone and never more
Those little feet of yours will come
To meet me at the open door,
The threshold of our home.
The door unlatched did not protest:
I entered, and the silence drew
My steps towards the little nest
That once I shared with you.
There lay your fan, your open book,
Your seam half-sewn, and I could see
The window whence you used to look--
Yes, once you looked--for me.
Print of your little head caressed
Our pillow still, and on the floor
Still lay, dropped there when last you dressed,
The scarf and rose you wore.
All should have spoken of you plain,
Yet, when I bade the silence tell
Of you, my bidding was in vain,
I could not break its spell.
The silence would not speak, my dear,
Till the last level light grew dim;
Then, in the twilight I could hear;
The silence spoke--of him.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Somebody Needs You
I'm only human
Sometimes I make mistakes
If you forgive me
I'm gonna do what it takes
But now I know better
To hurt you was wrong
Girl it's with you I belong
Somebody needs you like never before
Somebody wants your love
Baby so open the door
Don't you leave me alone
Don't you turn out the light
Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you tonight
I've been thinking
We should be talking it through
You must believe me
I'll make it up to you
Cause I now know better
To hurt you was wrong
Girl it's with you I belong
Somebody needs you like never before
Somebody wants your love
Baby so open the door
Don't you leave me alone
Don't you turn out the light
Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you tonight
In the dark
song performed by by Westlife from Coast To Coast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Stole Our Outhouse? (Fun Poem, But True)
Several drunken revellers were walking home late Saturday night
When they passed McDougal’s farm and they spied a sight
There behind the farmhouse was an old wooden shack
The outhouse stood tall and noble out back
One had a good idea for a jolly spoof
‘Lets lift the outhouse and put it the up on the roof.’
‘But which roof, there are several there? ’
The others looked and grinned ear to ear
‘Lets stick it on the barn, there is a ladder over there.’
So at two o’clock in the morning they went to work full of glee
But they had to be as quiet as could be
Tipping the outhouse on its side
They carried it to the barn
Then got the ladders from along side the farm house
They leant them against the wooden wall
Then pushed and pulled the outhouse to the roof
Placing it on the top, watched it dangle there
Someone found some wood
To wedge under it, to secure it there.
The drunken revellers made their retreat
They hide behind a hedge, and as they were beat
They fell asleep there before the fun began
McDougal awoke at five that morning
Out to the outhouse he went for a sit
He always said it helped with his concentration
Half asleep he wandered out to the back
Out to the little old wooden shack
As he went to open the door
He suddenly realised the outhouse wasn’t there anymore
‘EE Gads! ! ’ He shouted as he had nowhere to sit
He ran to tell his wife the lovely Mabel-Pitt
‘Someone has stolen our little old wooden shack
The one we love to sit in out back.’
Mabel-Pitt put on her dressing gown
And came down to the door
‘McDougal what are you shouting for? ’
‘Someone has stolen our outhouse and left us with only the pit.’
‘You mean our double seated place where we love to sit? ’
‘Yes my dear, it is really gone,
all that is left is a hole in the ground.’
‘There is no alternative McDougal, dear.’
‘What is that my honey beer? ’
‘You’ll have to sit behind the hedge.’
Unbeknown the revellers were fast asleep there.
As McDougal started to walk to the hedge
He spotted the shadow from the barn
There seemed to be something wrong there
Turning he gasped at the sight
There on the roof the outhouse stood out against the morning light
‘I have found it my Mabel-Pitt. It is up there.’
Pointing his finger skyward in the air.
‘Where? ’ she asked running in her dressing gown.
Then looked around and gave such a frown.
‘We can’t go up there for a sit,
there isn’t anything under it, not even a pit.’
poem by David Harris
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Sleeping Together
Sleeping together... how tired you were...
How warm our room... how the firelight spread
On walls and ceiling and great white bed!
We spoke in whispers as children do,
And now it was I--and then it was you
Slept a moment, to wake--"My dear,
I'm not at all sleepy," one of us said....
Was it a thousand years ago?
I woke in your arms--you were sound asleep--
And heard the pattering sound of sheep.
Softly I slipped to the floor and crept
To the curtained window, then, while you slept,
I watched the sheep pass by in the snow.
O flock of thoughts with their shepherd Fear
Shivering, desolate, out in the cold,
That entered into my heart to fold!
A thousand years... was it yesterday
When we two children of far away,
Clinging close in the darkness, lay
Sleeping together?... How tired you were....
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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God And Austerity
God and Austerity
The supermarket which calls itself Forum,
has a bell tower, but now in time of
austerity no one flocks to buy anything
when its bells rings every hour.
Sunday, when I drove my wife to church
the car park was full and the bells didn’t
toll in vain; and when I looked through
the window people were singing hymns.
When time is good, god becomes distant
But now with economic times and threats
of a new war is looming, people turn to
an abstraction in time of a unsure future.
Mind, god looks after his own flock, walking
around the car park I noticed most cars
looked new, but if you have got it and want
to keep it a prayer goes a long way.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Light Lady
(copyright nazareth,tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Down at the house with the red light
She works from seven til dawn
Youll find her there any time that you like
Some days a week shell be on
Down at the house with the red light
I was a boy not to sure of myself
When I was first taken down
Down to the house with the red light
Two miles west of town
I paid my fee and I went on in
Into the house with the red light
Pull up a chair, up the stairs
The key was cold and dampened my hand
Opened the door, heard her say;
Into my room and set yourself down
She let us lie on this shiny brass bed
Curtains and flowers in her hair
She played my soul and she shattered my head
Could not believe I was there
Down at the house with the red light
I fell in love with that lady
First love I knew, she gave me
Seven days a week, you can find her
Down at the house with the red light
I fell in love with that lady
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walk To The Water
She said it wasnt cold
She left her coat at home that day
She wore canvas shoes
White canvas shoes
Around her neck
She wore a silver necklace
It was given to me by my father, she said
It was given to me
She took the back way home
Passed the lights and the summerhill
Turned left onto the north strand
And on, and towards the sea
He said he was an artist
But he really painted billboards
In large capital letters
Large capital letters
He was telling jokes
Nobody else would listen to him
I saw you that day
Your lips were cherry red
Your legs were crossed
Your arms wide open
Your hair was coloured gold
Like a field of corn
You were blown by the wind
You were blown by the wind
Walk, walk, walk...to the water
Walk with me a while
Walk, walk, walk...to the roadside
Walk me in the light
A room in the royal hotel
Sea facing views
A man with a suitcase
Full of things he doesnt need
Im looking through your window
Im walking through your doorway
Im on the outside
Let me in
Let me love you
Let me love you
Let me...
Walk, walk, walk...to the water
Walk with me...yeah
Walk, walk, walk...to the roadside
Walk with me again
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epic Joureny
Epic Journey
This story happened before the invention of snow-scooters,
a couple- the Østerjøen was frozen over- wanted to flee
the poverty of Suomi to the relative prosperous Svearike on
a sledge pulled by their pony. It was a long, cold treck, their
small horse got very tired and could not pull them anymore.
They needed the pony it could be used as carter of gods in
Stockholm. They made the tired animal lie down
on the sledge put a big blanket over it and continued their
journey. The winter night was very cold and they also got
too tired to pull the sledge. They lay down beside the horse
and slept snugly to a dazzling sunlight awoke them.
The pony rested was fed with the last sack of hay left and
harnessed. In good mood all three continued their heroic
crossing to Svearike and new future.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The next to last pew
An old man was at church last Sunday
He sat in the next to last pew
I slid into the seat right next to him
And gave a him a friendly “hi-dee-do”
He gave me a nod with his time worn brow
Then swiveled his head all around
While his gaze sized up the parishioners
His ears seemed to soak up their sound
His sad gaze seemed to pick out each person
One by one, as he seemed to stare into their soul
To some he nodded, in an approving way
While to others his look was ice cold
I asked if he was a member of this church
I said I wasn’t familiar with him, was he new?
He smiled a soft smile and shook his head no
Said “I’m here most of the time…
here in this next to last pew”
I said “what do you think of our little church”
He rubbed his hands through his hair of silver grey
Looked deep in my eyes and gave a soft, sad sigh
And said “you may not like what I have to say”
He said “ Son, I can see into the soul of these people
And to you, what I say is on the level”
That Most are fools in the eyes of the Lord
The rest are pawns in the hands of the devil
I looked all around at my fellow church-goers
Of whom he spoke, I knew of more than a few
And when I turned back to allow “that could be so”
I was all alone in the next to last pew!
poem by David Whalen
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friendship
The Friendship
Sven and I were best friends sailed on the same ship together.
he as a third officer and I as a cook. We were both interested
in reading, cinema and politics, and we liked go dancing when
our ship docked. One night in Kingston, Jamaica, we met two
girls at a beach cafe, I liked my girl there was an easy repartee
between us and we laughed a lot. Back onboard Sven said my
the girl was not suitable for me, I smiled, thought it a joke.
Next day was Sunday Sven went ashore after breakfast, going
to the beach, he said, I had to stay onboard and cook dinner.
He came back in the evening, when I was ready to go ashore
and meet my new girlfriend; Sven said he was very tired and
wanted to stay onboard for the night. When I met my girl at
the cafe, she appeared startled looked around and behind me
but said nothing; told she had been to the beach all day and
was quite exhausted, the easy talk between us was gone and
the silence was awkward, so I wordlessly just got up and left.
Back onboard, Sven sat in the mess-hall drinking coffee and
reading, he looked up said halloo but continued to read;
In my darkened room I looked out, full moon and the lights
of Jamaica looked alluring; I also saw Sven go ashore again and
it was well after midnight.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Balance
After he had journeyed,
And his feet were sore,
And he was tired,
He came upon an orange grove
And he rested
And he lay in the cool,
And while he rested, he took to himself an orange and tasted it,
And it was good.
And he felt the earth to his spine,
And he asked, and he saw the tree above him, and the stars,
And the veins in the leaf,
And the light, and the balance.
And he saw magnificent perfection,
Whereon he thought of himself in balance,
And he knew he was.
Just open your eyes,
And realize, the way its always been.
Just open your mind
And you will find
The way its always been.
Just open your heart
And thats a start.
And he thought of those he angered,
For he was not a violent man,
And he thought of those he hurt
For he was not a cruel man
And he thought of those he frightened
For he was not an evil man,
And he understood.
He understood himself.
Upon this he saw that when he was of anger or knew hurt or felt fear,
It was because he was not understanding,
And he learned, compassion.
And with his eye of compassion.
He saw his enemies like unto himself,
And he learned love.
Then, he was answered.
Just open your eyes,
And realize, the way its always been.
Just open your mind
And you will find
The way its always been.
Just open your heart
And thats a start.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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