Scavenging For Coal
At the back
of the coal wharf
you and Fay
picked up coal pieces
that fell through
the iron railings
and put them
in an old bag from home
Fay looked
at her blackened fingers
and said
if my daddy sees
these fingers
and finds out
what I've been doing
he'll spank me
for sure
you gazed at her
beside you
and said
you can wash your hands
at my place
she looked around
at the bombsite behind you
the evening sun
slowly going down
behind the railway bridge
and nearby buildings
what if someone sees you
she asked
picking up these pieces?
no one worries about this
all the kids do it
you replied
my daddy says
it is evil to steal
she said
you put a black piece
of coal in the bag
and lifted it
to feel the weight
that's enough
you said
too much
and I won't be able
to carry it
Fay stood up
and looked around
at the darkening sky
you held the bag
in one hand
and scanned
the area around you
let's go
you said
and so you both
walked away
from the coal wharf
into Meadow Row
by the public house
where piano music played
and down towards
the flats
where you lived
and after climbing
the concrete stairs
to your landing
you opened the door
and put the bag
by the indoor
coal bunker
and showed Fay
where to wash her hands
turning on
the cold water tap
you both washed
your hands
with the red
Life Buoy soap
her hands near yours
her wet flesh
touching yours
the black water
running away
and another adventure
and another day.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dear Irish Grandfather
My grandfather recalled
Some days of old when he
Collected pieces of coal -
Black cotton -
From the train tracks in his town, our U.S.A.
In his hands he'd hold
Pieces he brought home - coal to burn in a pot belly stove -
The only way sometimes
For him and his 'Pa'to keep warm back then in the days of old.
That's a story he told me.
I remember as a little girl
Walking along the road to the little one room candy store - the road that was
Part of my world -
By the greenhouses where flowers grew for market.
My friends and I looked for coke bottles amoung the tall grasses
Worth not one cent but two!
Each small glass bottle we found meant two pieces of penny candy -
Like a Christmas stocking feast - making our hearts soar..
My grandfather found coal
But lots of times we got candy at the penny candy store!
poem by Gayle Sweeney
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On The Road
My aunt lives over there
you said
and Jimmy looked
over the back
of the coal truck
to where you were pointing
and said
we must be far
from home then
if that’s where she lives
and you looked over
at the apartments
wondering if your aunt
was home or not
and the coal guy said
best keep your heads down boys
don’t want people wondering
what the heck you’re doing
in the back of a coal truck
and so you and Jimmy
got underneath
the tarpaulin
and the driver pulled away
to deliver more coal
and Jimmy said
if my old girl
knew I was here
she’d hit the roof
or worse
and you said
well it’s been an adventure
it got us out
of the block
and on the road
for a while
and when we get
back home
we best sneak
out of here
and hope to God
we ain’t covered
in that coal dust
all over out jeans
and tee-shirts and such
or we’ll be in for it
and outside
you could hear
the pitter patter of rain
on the tarpaulin
and imagined
you could hear
Jimmy’s mother’s
sharp angry voice
through the darkness calling.
poem by Terry Collett
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Auntie and Hand Washing
You made your way from the john
to the dining table
and Auntie said
have you washed your hands?
yes
you said
are you sure?
Auntie asked
looking at you
with her fixed stare
and the black mutt
under the table
gazed at you too
I washed them this morning
you said
let me see your hands
Auntie said
and so you held out your hands
and she turned them over and up
and held them looking at them
you're meant to wash them
after going to the toilet each time
she said
not just
when you get up
in the morning
she released your hands
and you looked at them
as if they were suddenly there
before you for the first time
so you had best wash them
Auntie said
before I dish up your dinner
and so you went back
to the wash room
and turned on the tap
and taking soap
between your hands
you washed and rinsed
and dried them
on the white towel
on the rail and went back
to the dining room
and showed your aunt
that's better
she said
now go sit down
and wait for your dinner
and the black mutt
put its chin on your lap
waiting in anticipation
for titbits from your plate
and Auntie called out
from the kitchen
remember to say your prayer
before meals
and you said ok
and muttered
thank you for what I'm about to eat
may there be few vegetables
and lots of meat
and the mutt's dribble
wet your thigh
its jaw lingering there
giving you
its dark eyed stare.
poem by Terry Collett
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King Death
King Death was a rare old fellow!
He sate where no sun could shine;
And he lifted his hand so yellow,
And poured out his coal-black wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
There came to him many a Maiden,
Whose eyes had forgot to shine;
And Widows, with grief o'erladen,
For a draught of his sleepy wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
The Scholar left all his learning;
The Poet his fancied woes;
And the Beauty her bloom returning,
Like life to the fading rose.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
All came to the royal old fellow,
Who laugh'd till his eyes dropped brine,
As he gave them his hand so yellow,
And pledged them in Death's black wine.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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A Diamond Or A Coal?
A diamond or a coal?
A diamond, if you please:
Who cares about a clumsy coal
Beneath the summer trees?
A diamond or a coal?
A coal, sir, if you please:
One comes to care about the coal
What time the waters freeze.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Not An Answer Why.
Fay managed to get out
while her father worked
and she came
and knocked at your door
and said
You want to go out?
Sure
you replied
and you both went down
the stairs of the apartment block
across the Square
and down the slope
up Meadow Road
crossing over
the bombsite
behind the coal wharf
and on to the main road
where you walked along
side by side
Let's see what's on
at the movies
you said
and you stopped outside
the movie house
and peered at the programmes
Fay said
My daddy doesn't think
movies are right for children
he says they're sinful
and full of lust
and sex
and greed
and she stopped
and stared along the road
at the people passing
and the cars and lorries
going by
on the main road
and the evening air
choked up with fumes
and the street lights
giving a false perspective
It isn't all like that
you said
Some movies are about love
and laughter
and people enjoy going
it takes them out
of their dreary lives
Fay said
I've never been
inside a movie house
never seen a movie
Well why don't you come with me
to the matinee on Saturday
I can squeeze some money
from my dad for the two of us
Fay looked at you
and seemed interested
but then said
No I can't
if my father caught me
there'd be hell to pay
and apart from the lecture
on the immorality
of the arts and such
he'd belt me some
and not let me out again
for some time
and you said
Ok but some day
you're going to find out
things aren't always
as the parents say
then you're going to
have to find your own road
and walk your own way
and she looked sad
and walked away
from the movie house
along to the subway
and down the steps
into the bright lights
and noise of traffic
over head
and you touched her hand
and she gripped yours
and you walked down
through the subway tunnel
she in her flowered dress
and brown shoes
slightly scuffed
and you
in your tee shirt and jeans
and you pretended
not to notice
the bruise on her thigh
which caught your eye
as she skipped along
her dress rising high
as she went holding tight
your hand
her fingers wrapped
about yours
and up and out
on the other side
of the subway
with its bright lights
and evening sky
and too many questions
and not an answer why.
poem by Terry Collett
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Burnt Hands
Back off! my dearest
for the sparkling jewel that you see
are glittering coal
that could burn your delicate hands
I beg off you, my love
stay away
for your innocence is misleading you
WHY? ? ?
asked innocence
and the questioned remained unanswered
she inquired again; no reply
equipped with faith, she stepped forward
to rescue the misplaced gem; among the burning coal
she advanced with glaring eyes-and hope
patted her shoulder-go on dear
Screamed innocence, as she touched
the gem was equally hot
as hot as any coal
Screamed innocence- I burnt my hands
I burnt my hands, dear faith
it really hurts, she turned to hope
at this ruthless sight
faith was speechless
and hope stood back, ashamed
is this my fate? she questioned
as she glanced at her blistered hands
is this my fate? ? ? ? ? -innocence wept like a child
silence there was
and then a whisper
it will soon heal, my dear
she looked up; with tear shedding eyes
she rushed to embrace hope
faith smiled to himself
O! dear dear innocent innocence
how I wish you to know
you burnt your hands but rescued gem
your fate?
is that you should not know……
for there are infinite gem
to be rescued; by you
yet, you will never know
you will never know
my dear burnt handed innocence
you will never know.
Beat It On Down The Line
Well this job Ive got is just a little too hard,
Running out of money, lord, I need more pay.
Gonna wake up in the morning lord, gonna pack my bags,
Im gonna beat it on down the line.
Im goin down the line, goin down the line,
Goin down the line, goin down the line,
Goin down the line, goin down the line,
Beat it on down the line.
Yes Ill be waiting at the station lord, when that train pulls on by,
Im going back where I belong.
Im going back to that same old used-to-be,
Down in joe browns coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Down in joe browns coal mine.
Yeah, Im goin back to that shack way across that railroad track,
Uh huh, thats where I think I belong.
And thats where Im gonna make my happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Thats where Im gonna make my happy home.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Summer 1958
You sat with Fay that summer day
on the flat concrete roof
of the World War Two bomb shelter
down below the tall flats
where you both lived
and you said
do you want to go
to the movies with me?
she looked across
at the coal depot
with its trucks loading
and unloading
I don't have no money
she replied
you looked at her
my dad'll pay
you said
he's always giving me money
for the movies
she shook her head
and you looked ahead
at the sun shining above
the rain tracks
over the coal depot
you had on your blue jeans
and white tee shirt
and she you noticed
turning your head
had a red and white dress
which came just over her knees
and she wore sandals
on bare feet
besides my mother wants me
so she can see me
Fay said with a sigh
she raised and lowered
her legs against
the concrete wall
her sandals making
tapping noises
as they hit the wall
and you noticed bruises
along her thigh
as she moved
and her dress rode higher
what are those bruises
on your leg?
you asked
she looked down
and stopped moving her legs
and pulled her dress hem
over her knees and thighs
I fell
she replied
down the stairs
you looked at her arms
where other fading bruises
blended into her skin
like worn-out badges
we can see a Western film
you said
I'm sure
there's a Jeff Chandler film
so my dad tells me
but she shook her head
too violent
Mother says
Fay uttered looking away
but there's kissing stuff too
you added
Fay looked at you
her blue eyes
moving over you
like a smoothing
palm of a hand
I'm not allowed
to go to the movies
Daddy says
its sinful and only
wicked people
go there
to be tempted
by the Devil
she sighed
and you both sat in silence
for a while
watching pigeons fly
in the blue summer sky
then she turned quickly
and kissed your cheek
and said
don't have to go
to no movie
to see kissing
and you thought
of the boring bits in films
where the cowboy
gets kissed by the girl
after a gun shoot out
and having been kissed
by Fay
you were glad
and guessed that kissing
wasn't at all
too bad.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Hibernation
Hibernation
Occupy falling snow; claim it make a snowman with coal eyes and
carrot nose before winter is over and your task runs through your
fingers as water into soft the soil and is privatized when it runs into
a deep lake and you must pay if you want a drink or take a shower.
A carrot not enough to make soup, pieces of coal are not enough to
warm your cold hands. The barons of money have bought streams,
forests and mountains, fenced in and there are gates, you must pay
if you want to walk and see nature at her most enthralling liberty.
And you will think; where is our emancipation to express ourselves?
Nothing is free, why should it be? This is democracy the right to buy
and sell the world’s resources and charge whatever the market says.
And you pay for what is rightfully yours. If you do not occupy it now it
will be too late, spring is the name of misery and it is your fault for
sleeping when snow fell in your garden.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Bombsite Walk
Fay walked with you
across the bombsite
off Meadow Row
the bombed out houses
like decaying teeth
in an old jaw
if Daddy saw me here
he'd spank me
she said
looking over the site
where weeds grew
in cracks and over
once backyards
and living rooms
there's no danger
if you step careful
you said
Daddy says
it's walking on the dead
Fay uttered
looking at you
sideways on
her hands raised at her sides
as if learning to fly
all things born
will some day die
you said
standing on a broken wall
come on let's go in
the haunted house
or so it seems
you laughed reaching out
for her hand to bring her forth
she hesitated
looked around
fearing her daddy's
beady eyes
then took
your hand
and followed in
the semi dark
of bombed out room
it stinks of piss
you muttered
she giggled and set her foot
on bricks and stony floor
what if it all falls in?
she asked
looking up at the sky
through cracks and holes
her hand felt warm in yours
her fingers curled
around your own
it's just adventure
you said
you got to take a few risks
we're a long time dead
and her eyes widened
and stared
and she whispered
I'm scared
and clung to you
what do think
the people here thought
when the bombs fell
and they hadn't made the shelters
or didn't know
you said
she shrugged
her narrow shoulders
and bit her lip
my mother said
all they found
of her neighbours' child
was a blown off hand
don't tell me
Fay said
I will dream of that now
sorry I shouldn't have said
you uttered
feeling her fingers
grip your arm
her thin nails
marking skin
let's go out
she said
and off she went
dragging you behind
out into the sunshine
she looking to see
if her daddy'd seen
her sinful tread
but for you
looking back
it was just an adventure
on land of the dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Paradise
This song was first released on the rocky mountain high album. it is the only album it has been released on.
When I was a child, my family would travel
Down to western kentucky where my parents were born
And theres a backwards old town thats often remembered
So many times that my memries are worn
And daddy wont you take me back to muhlenberg county
Down by the green river where paradise lay
Well, Im sorry, my son, but youre too late in asking
Mister peabodys coal train has hauled it away
Well sometimes wed travel right down the green river
To the abandoned old prison down by adrie hill
Where the air smelled like snakes and wed shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill
And daddy wont you take me back to muhlenberg county
Down by the green river where paradise lay
Well, Im sorry, my son, but youre too late in asking
Mister peabodys coal train has hauled it away
And the coal company came with the worlds largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man
And daddy wont you take me back to muhlenberg county
Down by the green river where paradise lay
Well, Im sorry, my son, but youre too late in asking
Mister peabodys coal train has hauled it away
And daddy wont you take me back to muhlenberg county
Down by the green river where paradise lay
Well, Im sorry, my son, but youre too late in asking
Mister peabodys coal train has hauled it away
Words and music by john prine
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Further, the United States is moving ahead in the development of clean coal technology. There are vast coal reserves in our country, and when it is burned cleanly, coal can provide a resource to supply a large amount of our energy requirements.
quote by Virgil Goode
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fay and You and the Ruler.
Fay met you
on your way home
from school
standing by the entrance
of Meadow Row
she was in her school uniform
a satchel
over a shoulder
how was school?
she asked
boring and the day
too long
you replied
but at least
you can learn things
she said
like how
to make a candle
holder in woodwork?
finding some river
in India
I'll never see?
you said
she smiled shyly
well maybe you will
she said
how are you?
you asked
ok
she replied
got told off
by Sister Bernard
for not having a ruler
what did you do
with your ruler?
you asked
lost it
she said
ah well
there you are
you said
naughty naughty
she walked on
down Meadow Row
and you walked
beside her
actually
she said quietly
my daddy took it
she stood still
and stared at you
he beat me
with it
she said
in a whisper
you looked
into her eyes
and saw your
reflection there
two yous
staring back
why?
you asked
taking in her paleness
her fair hair tied
in a ponytail
he said l hadn't done
my jobs properly
jobs?
you asked
around the house
helping my mum
and did you? help?
yes usually
but I forgot
this time
big crime
you said
won't he give
the ruler back?
no
she said
he said he will keep it
as a lesson to me
can't you buy
a new one?
you asked
I haven't any money
she said
you can have
one of mine
you said
I have plenty at home
can I borrow one?
you can have one
she smiled weakly
her eyes lit up
and she took one
of your hands
and held it
I'll have to hide it though
she said
or he'll take
that one too
quite a guy your dad
you said
she looked away
at the bombed out houses
on the left hand side
you saw her hurt
and sadness
some things you can't hide.
poem by Terry Collett
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Sports Day 1962
It was sports day
at high school
and the field and tracks
were crowded with
teachers and kids
and the sun was out
causing sweat
and heat rash
and Reynard said to you
that girl who fancies your ass
is waving to you
over by the small wood
of trees and bushes
so you looked over
and saw Christina
waving a hand at you
leaping up and down
her short gym skirt
rising and falling
as she leaped
showing off
now and then
her dark green panties
mind she don't eat you
Reynard said
and walked off
to watch the races
as you wandered over
to where she stood
at the edge
of the small wood
don't you look
the sexy beast
in your black shorts
she said
eyeing you over
her right hand smoothing
down your white tee shirt
are you running?
she asked
yes a short sprint
you replied
anything more than that
and I'm buggered
she looked at the field
holding her hands
in front of her
and you gazed
at her white legs
and white ankle socks
and black plimsolls
I'm in the relay race
she said
I‘ll have to watch
to see when my turn comes
then she turned to you
and said
have you been inside the wood?
you looked behind you
no not so far have you?
yes we went there
in science looking for bugs
and such
she said
maybe you could show me
you said
what?
bugs and flowers
and butterflies
you replied
she smiled at you
maybe but teachers might be watching
or other kids or prefects
and what if my brother Cedric
sees us enter
and tells my parents?
just a science tour
to see all nature's gifts
you said
tell them that
if any see us go
and you watched her
fumble with her fingers
looking around the field
and whispered softly
no.
poem by Terry Collett
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No Bombs Here
Gran said it isn't safe
to walk about the bombsites
Janice said
as you walked with her
off of Meadow Row
towards the bombed out sites
of WW11
there might be
unexploded bombs
she added
holding on to your shirt sleeve
there are no
unexploded bombs here
you said
to reassure
you paused midway
and stared back
to where the coal wharf stood
and coalmen went about their work
loading trucks and horse drawn carts
how do you know?
she asked
her hand gripping
your shirt sleeve tight
don't you trust me?
you said
turning your head
seeing her eyes wide
beneath her red beret
yes but maybe there could be
hidden beneath ground
you looked around
with hand above your brow
none I can see
you said
she released your sleeve
and touched your hand
her smooth skin
like soft silk
moved over yours
you mustn't tell Gran
she said
she's forbidden me
to go on sites
you sensed her pulse
tap along your palm
of course I won't
you said
and walked across
the bricks and rubble
and weeds between
even here
amidst the bombed out ruins
a touch of green.
poem by Terry Collett
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Standing Beside Fay One Saturday.
It was Saturday morning
and Fay stood beside you
on the balcony of the flats
looking over the Square
she pointed at the baker
and his horse drawn cart
down by the wall below
my daddy says he's Jewish
she said
those who asked
for the death of Christ
you followed the baker
as he made his way to the stairs
carrying his bread basket
I don't think he was involved
you said watching the baker
until he disappeared up the stairs
she looked right over the balcony
gripping the brick wall
with her hands
I don't think he's Jewish at all
she said letting her feet
dropp back on the floor
and it doesn't matter if he is
I think he's a nice man
she added
looking at you
with her bright blue eyes
and you gazed at her
standing there
her flowered dress
colourful and coming
just below her knees
her battered sandals
having seen
better days
and her fair hair
tied into a ponytail
at the back
she looked over
the balcony again
I like to feed his horse
with sugar cubes
I get from home
she said thoughtfully
you lean over the balcony
beside her
your elbow touching hers
the pulse of her being
vibrating into your arm
you imagine
don't your parents mind
you taking their sugar?
you asked
she looked guiltily away
they don't know
she said softly
daddy would punish
if he knew
she paused and then said
you won't tell them will you?
the baker came along
the balcony behind you both
whistling happily
of course not
you said
taking in her
trembling jaw line
her blue eyes
and her lips slightly open
her words gone
it's a nice day
the baker called
yes
you both replied
I don't think he's Jewish
she said
anyway.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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