Last Liked Ballad Poems (501)

to the day the darkness
brings an end
I am the last Irish wolf
the darkness is my friend

they killed me
and they skinned me
as the virgin
snows a'fell

but the tavern's cheers
are qualified
they know
I wait in hell

I am the peerless hunter
as constant as the tide
"Mactyre" they call me
outcast son of the countryside

my eye contains a private death
my claw imprisons hope
I'm the thread of fear a'runneth
through the cord of every rope

I am alpha to the moonlit oaks
to the mountains and the rain
I am balm to all the natural laws
and thus I will remain

to stalk the stars
to kill the clouds
to forage in the lands
to sleep in the belly of time

untouched by human hands

I spent Monday just walking through town.. searching for magical.. timbers of brown

Tuesday's arrival.. flooded my deck.. from the truest of branches.. I fashioned your neck

I spent Wednesday doing nothing at all.. till a bird with your voice.. sung out from a wall

You told me to hurry.. in the words of a song.. you told me that Thursday.. wouldn't be long

Friday's new coat.. hung from my bed..I made every string.. from a hair of your head

I took you to concerts.. I heard your notes fly.. migrating to consciousness.. nesting in sky

when the river is gentle
when sound runs and sighs
when starlight is music
when I first heard your lies

your blonde hair silk curtains
fell over my world
and it robbed me of daylight
on the night it unfurled

some nights I can't sleep
some days I can't eat
sometimes the curve of your memory
trips up my bare feet

I'm too tough to hate
I'm too strong to moan
when kissing her body
I still feel alone

the mist coats my bones
the air stings then soothes
some people are happy
and some sing the blues

Oh heart...why do you seek?
Doesn't heartbreak make you weak?
Remember all those tears you cried?
Just because of another heart that lied.
Those broken promises,those wasted years,
Those memories that created your fears.
And still you hope,still you seek.
Poor broken heart...aren't you weak?

carrie walked out of the diner.. her shift was nearing its end.. and the trees made love in the darkness.. and her eyes to a smile did pretend

talks about music and college.. did rise and fall on the air.. and a heart that once loved another.. for no reason began not to care

I drove down there about midnight.. past farms that seemed to be free.. but I knew in the end that I'd buy one.. and that would be the end of me

now the birds still sing in the tall grass.. on the earth where she once loved me.. but it spins on an axis so different.. and I've learned to let certain things be

but her car.. her car.. is a dream

I knew she was getting tired of me.. my work it was getting her down.. and what good is a roughneck on dance night.. when there's a banker's hand in town

"will you see me on Sunday..?"
will you smile your smile and look nice?.. but you know that a question is worthless.. when you gotta ask it twice

now the river flows down like always.. from the mountains that once heard us sing.. but its funny how something is nothing.. when nothing was once everything

but her car.. her car.. is a dream

her small talk began getting smaller.. she spoke to a script I could see.. and her eyes that were warmer than summer.. did look to a place beyond me

feeling like an oak that's been hollowed.. yet my pride it still rode next to me.. and when she asked if I could say something.. I said no and just let me be

and the roads they took us homeward.. in my daddy's truck through the dark.. and I looked in the heavens for answers.. and saw nothing but stars and a lark

"I heard she married a Doctor"
my friend Jake did tell me years on.. and I smiled like it meant nothing to me.. and got sick when I knew he was gone

now the sparrows play in the cornfields.. where we used to make love all night long.. ain't it funny how some women linger..
and you can't seem to outdrive their song

and her car, her car.. was a dream

Look at me , looking all around,

My mind is in a dazed phase;
Unstimulated even by sound,
Like being blind in a Haze.


Nothing seems to give interest,
Like a drunk man with no goal,
Aimless meander with no rest;
Wasting time and rotting soul.

Much waste and unproductivity;
Using time to be useless,
Gradually flowing to insanity,
Everything seem fruitless.

Then a tall man came along,
He looked me strait in the eye.
"What are you doing with yourself?",
Said with a firm but loving voice.

I lifted up my head trying to think,
Said ,"Don't know" in a groan,
"Can I lift you up, O poor soul,
Come with me , to my home!".

I slowly got to my feet ,
What the hill, somebody cares,
Now I can get off this street,
With assistance up the stairs .

I must smell to high heaven,
Not washed near a month ,
Stains ,smudges, sodden,
What a mess , scum of the earth.

"Lets clean up", he said ,
"Leave your clothes by the door,
I'll wash them , you wear a robe,
After showering come and eat."

Cleaned Up, soap and shaved,
Feeling this good , a big change,
Made to feel like a new man,
Think I can break these chains.

"Sit down , here's chicken soup,
And a Grilled cheese sandwich,
I'll make some nice Chai tea!,
I'd like to talk about your life ".

Me too!, thinking such kindness
Given to me in lovingkindness,
Feeling that God is good to me,
An Angel came to set me free.

"What happened to you ? Tell me,
How you got into this state?"
It be six years since being fired ,
Lost all I had , house, wife left.

Got so low ,cant get back up.
It's awfully dark in this rut,
Cant see a light looking ahead,
My feet all stuck in dark mud.

Echo sound, from every turn ;
"Sorry, cant help you !"
So I keep on waiting, looking,
Asking for work that will pay.

My bed on grass or cardboard,
Shiver till morning light.
Dreams of family warm hugs,
Now only ugly world comes.

I know there's a Good God ,
But I don't feel Him around,
Life got so hard on this sod,
Hoping for hope to be found.

Good Sir, Can you give me help,
That I might find something
Good that I can cling to...
(Asking with my desperate heart! ).

"Yes, O Soul." with tear in eye,
"It is love and Hope you seek,
Something that cant evaporate
Like earthly things
that crumble and change
With greed and pride.

I'll point you to the happy Way,
A place that is not easy to go,
But you must sacrifice a lot,
To gain this wonderful abode .

It won't be got with wealth,
A trade deal with commerce,
Or making yourself a good person,
Cause it cant ever be earned!

That's because it is Spiritual,
A Way that is only gotten by few,
Because it is entered by the humble,
The heart that is made anew.

If you want all the hurts and
stains of earth to be gone ,
Even sins that keep your heart
From being free of guilt .

Then you need to turn to the
God of the universe !
He has something good for you,
From the treasures of His purse.

All you need to do is Trust
His plan He made for every man .
But you will need to be Humble and believe ;
The Gift to be received .

God made it by way of His Son ,
who came by promise of His Word ,
Who was born a babe of a Virgin .
Then become the anointed One ,
the Lord !

This Gift comes from heaven,
when the Holy Spirit ,
Causes conviction in the guilty heart,
And you only see the Way of hope ,
Written in His Word .

Yes , that's the Gift ,
The sacrifice that Jesus
Gave on the cruel cross
By shedding His Blood ,
For the remissions of sins!

All you need to do is be
Humble before Him,
And confess your sins,
Asking Him to forgive you.
Then you will escape judgment.

Ask Him to be your Savior,
and He will save you
And make you free.

He is the only one
That can save
And make you free,
And give you a new start
In heaven and this earth too!"

It all made sense to my mind ,
what I'm seeking all the time ,
I'll stop trying

she was crying
in the sea
unloved and worn
she spoke to me

her heart and boards
were long ripped out
her diesel engine
left in doubt

yet I heard her
heard her true
in her estuary
of blue

mud it held her
held her fast
a defiant finger
for a mast

porthole eyes
that saw the years
open sores wept
salted tears

the odd bewildered
passerby
would enquire
of me "why?"

this dishevelled
bearded man
eating something
from a can

yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay

less days
to think of you
my retro thinking
hours few

I slept and ate
upon her deck
I found a haven
in her neck

and I lifted her
that year
out of wet rot
out of fear

I spent everything
I had
removing varnishing's
of sad

a friend helped me
with her coat
a rising tide
helps every boat

I thank the thousands
that walked past
who saw her place in life
as last

they failed to stop
and read the the signs
and saw no beauty
in her lines

when the playing cards fall
from the poker game of life
in name or in spirit
I'll always call you wife

you watched me live my dreams
as I trapped the river, free
you only caught a fleeting glimpse
of how we used to be

the river shares my life
she is gracious.. that I know
a willow signs your name
in the transit of it's flow

the snow here checks my rage
it qualifies each sound
the deep root of family
unchanged beneath the ground

you left this place too early
but you never left me Lil
your black hair dresses trees
and it rains strong whiskey, still

our tale begins midwinter
in austere and ancient rooms.. where landlords sold satanic ales to drink away life's glooms

a tortured artist drinks alone
his circumstances dire
sheltering in his suffering ways
adjacent to the fire

the world had moved on a'pace
and many were left behind
the artist eye that made him wealth.. now obsolete and blind

in matters of the fairer sex
he punched above his weight
two droplet eyes of emeralds
coupled with his fate

she had a savage logic
he lived by dint of heart
when friendly tides
bid both goodbye
they had no course to chart

the clock struck the bell's lament and soon he was last guest
when the landlord offered free a dram.. he thought it for the best

"I hear you are an artist" the bearded barman said
then pointed to a landscape
that hung above his head

"I take no joy in your poverty
as once I wore your shoes..
take that away.. for a year and day.. and I'll buy away your blues.."

dawn brought in fractions.. memory
the artist woke in bed
yet felt an uneasy presence
hanging overhead

he hung it in his study..
he hung it in the hall.. he hung it in an outhouse.. still he heard it's call

he tried to block it's echo.. by hanging in reverse.. but every colour mocked him.. his mind was now a curse

it terrorised his psyche.. it mirrored his unease.. it altered with the seasons.. trees did shed their leaves

his sanity divorced him.. to run away with pain.. he wondered if in waking dreams.. the landlord did the same..

lawyer I met
on account of a bet
which was owed
yet un-honoured to me

I took her for chips
in a forest of ships
she chose
a symphony

now
a concert hall
let me hasten
to tell

was
just about
my perception
of hell

then quiet came
and music same
as unknown thirsts
did rate

to my surprise
I had to surmise
the hinges of heaven
is fate

my collar's so blue
it's never been new
but now I know music
magic and you

(For Vanessa)