Last Liked Ballad Poems (501)

I see you every day
it's not important you see me
I'm the man who moors his boat
near your house beside the quay

your son is older than me
learning issues t'would appear
he follows you like gravity
like a worry follows fear

you never appear angry
in the face of nature's mirth
every day he walks beside you
every day a brand new shirt

you always seem to have a smile
as you fumble for your key
I'm humbled by your kindness
you must be north of sixty-three

I think about your life
as the water soaks the sands
you hold your son so tightly
an umbilical cord of hands

"who looks after you" I think
but there's steel around your home
a dignity past this modern place
a swan a'swim in chrome

to a five penny piece
I shrunk to the size
as life made me hard
in the head and the eyes

so press ganged was I
on a leathery ship
that lived in a pocket
on the side of her hip

and life wasn't easy
and life wasn't hard
it was tough to bed down
'neath a sharp credit card

I dated a quarter
but often she snoozed
we'd laugh at the condom
that never got used

a religious medal
and I became mates
and we sung drunken songs
in between great debates

she'd spill us at parties
she'd drop us in cars
she'd hide us in restaurants
she'd lose us in bars

I fought with the euro
but rarely it budged
her lipstick was messy
and often got smudged

when the end came
it was ruthless and clean
that's how I got here..
in this vending machine

I met her in the winter.. in a bar upon the hill.. when the dark was carved from starlight.. and the moon had paid the bill

I came in from the wilderness.. from the howling wind and rain.. I was weary from my journeys.. around other people's pain

"You are bearded broad and ugly".. said the prairie girl in fright.. not one for moralising.. we shared our bones that night

I told her of my story.. from the famine ships I came.. from a world of madness hunger.. where I killed men.. to my shame

corruption took our homelands.. our humanity and our dead.. I hated a world that priced our lives.. in the currency of bread

I left her at the dawning.. as a coyote fought the moon.. one night was our forever.. she'd be over me by noon

my road ís a lonesome one.. thrown far by a devil's hurl.. so I bellow out a fire.. for the prairie and the girl

the 'Raven' is a diner
that lapps the sea foreshore
it haunts my mangled memory
as it raps upon my door
apple tart and finest cheesecake when I can't eat no more
yet alas quoth the raven :

ordermore!

broad bearded, prone to rages
I have slept in many cages
but I've always paid the wages
of society and more
but this subtle evil keening..
like the ghost of hungers meaning
darkens up my mind demeaning
all the goodness in my chore
still yet quoth the raven :

"ordermore!"

after working in the oceans
and toiling in it's potions
to the gym with weighted motions
to rid my thoughts of lore
ice water by the bucket
and the urge to utter 'f*ckit' '
as the ghost of fried chicken
knocks upon my chamber door
still yet quoth the raven :

ordermore!

with my car key slowly listing
and my sad eyes sadly misting
I find myself resisting
that dark relentless shore
yet the road it takes me quickly
to a shore that makes me sickly
to those arches painted thickly
with blood red signs above the door
yet alas quoth the raven

ordermore!

with my sanity at its border
the smiling waitress
takes my order
as my savagery implores her
to feed me more and more
with the devil in the kitchen
and the smells emerging bitchin'
I devour like a lion
all the carcass blood and gore
still eternal quoth the raven :

ordermore!
ordermore!
ordermore!

I sit transfixed
as thought it flies
to see warmth twice
inside her eyes

reflected in
the glassy pane
two pupils flower
past disdain

a look of summer
dressed in light
a thirst beyond
the drink of sight

some lust for life
and flirt with death
a carraige full
of moving breath

my logic screams
in measure new
though all before
wore beauty too

for even Yeats
or Neruda's verse
would paint her well
but paint her worse

a foggy smudge
her breath it seems
can not distort
the shape of dreams

(or the unwitting brilliance of someone who didn't know it)

you never walked.. 'twas more the curve of the earth.. found a mooring.. in the shape of your foot

you never sang..' twas more a distillation of vibrated yearning.. and what emerged.. saluted a starved ear

you never smiled.. 'twas more the agents of joy constructing.. permanent dwellings.. beneath your eyes

you never painted.. ' twas more you sketched what joy displaced.. and a magic kissed your brush

you never sought numerical truth.. 'twas more the starling cloud of value, settling.. on the branch of your logic

you never carved out a career.. 'twas more the align of the heart.. synced with restless thought

you never swam the spring tide

'twas more the sea inhaled.. and the normal laws of physics.. let you pass

I'm going down to the record station.. I'm gonna buy me a backwards jukebox.. I'm going to play all my favourite songs wearing nothing.. but my hat and my socks

and listen to Blaze.. as he sings every song.. ending to start.. and ill get all my stuff back.. my farm and my truck.. and my unbroken heart

and I'll listen to Prine.. as he sings of a wife.. who had enough and walked out.. taking my truck and my dog and my friend.. and their all driving south

the night with all of its darkness
will fade away to a day.. and that old freight train travelling west
will go backwards the way

I'll try to be nicer as everyone said I was nasty and mean.. but I'll keep certain comforts.. my mountain dew still and my lover.. Charlene

the debt on the farm that was drowning me.. will ebb away to my shins.. and even God will get happy.. as every day I'll be.. handing back sins

I can honestly say it's gravy man
and I don't owe a buck.. and everyday that I wake up.. there somehow seems to be gas in my truck

you know the summer's fading.. and the night is getting cold.. there's an east wind in the harbour.. and lord knows I'm getting old.. and my work it takes me everywhere.. and nowhere fast and slow..

it takes a man to plough an acre.. it takes a woman to make it grow

there's an orchard in the south field.. there's a herd of cattle too.. there's an empty chair that held you.. a rare creature tall and true.. and I dream about you always.. even nights that I don't dream..

it takes a man to set a plough right.. it takes a woman to hitch a team

more a fighter than a lover.. girl you picked me anyway.. and you tried to change my dress sense.. but you knew I wouldn't play.. and you laughed at my cowboy movies.. as I turned in to my old man..

it takes a man to work his heart out.. it takes a woman to give a damn

you know we never did much talkin'.. jesus girl you were unique.. and I'm sorry for taking the lord's name.. every other time I speak.. see they don't make girl's like you no more.. at least it seems that way..

it takes a man to save a harvest.. it takes a woman to save the day

well you know I'm big an awkward.. and as rough as a badger's a**.. I got two eyes that scare the locals.. and sometimes my talk is crass.. but I know each lock is different.. as unique as a key..

it takes a man to bring his story.. it takes a woman to set him free

there's a golden sun
on a spinning wheel
there's a yellow fleck
in a pan full of steel

there's the fire I spat
and the breath I once drew
there's work that I'm doing
and the work that I do

there's a girl, half fish
singing songs about love
there's a man with no arms
with a drawer full of gloves

so what.. fair darlin'
have I figured so far?
"never play poker
with a blonde in a bar"

there's a rope and a saddle
there's a trail and a gun
but the trail ain't no different
when your pony ain't young

still the camp fire burns
in the chests of a few
and you sleep with your dream
and you wake up anew

so what fair darlin
don't I know I don't know?
"when fixing to stay
you should probably go"

it's the seas are rough
and the trail it is long
and your pony
has heard mostly
all of your song

be it in the tumble
aft the winch
or out the bow
in winter's pinch

my heart oft seeks
the raven tide
in floating cabin
I reside

bearded, wild
quick tempered be
my natural place
is on the sea

my northern star
her memory
the anchor locker
and the quay

pots they sleep
as nets are shot
my hands are claws
my body squat

born rough
to warp and splice
my heart in summer
full of ice

net mending
as the season grows
needle dancing
through the rows