Last Commented Ballad Poems (503)

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..

"father's fly me strength of two
all wars are old yet I am new"

the trees will bud bodies without any eyes
as the calm before battle sleeps in the skies

its beyond my arm what faces us friend
but into the maelstrom we soon will descend

the weight of my axe the blood of my kin
before the dawn they'll be wearing my skin

but I will snarl at the gates of this hell
and I'll take some demons with me as well

death comes but once to the brave
but to them without courage

it makes them a slave

a town called Another
a town like the others
where people dug coal mines
drank with their brothers

I met her in winter
when cold slept in slumber
behind the mountains
out of the rains

a world of rough labour
the hardest endeavour
peabody rail track
on peabody trains

I danced with her tightly
because that's what you do
a weeks worth of magic
in one hour or two

tracing her hips
through the thread of her dress
she moved like a songbird
leaving its nest

it ain't like no movie
no breath taking scenes
but black nugget mining
means coffee and beans

I never.. kept a picture
but her features are scripture
frescoed tiles
on the walls of my dreams

I see missed steps along the silent highway.. forgotten by the sound of endless cars.. how can a soul of your enduring conscience.. compete with all them souls that have no scars?

silence is bitter when its raining.. you feel too much to set a deeper keel.. you've always lived your life like you're in training.. but you got the heart to go and make it real

you only read the signs when you're lost girl.. you only crave the darkness when you hide.. you only take the comfort of a stranger.. to cheat against the beauty that's inside

clocks put arms around the days and vanish.. you were meant for more than just a minor part.. take the road that leads you to your fear now.. and forge within some steel as you depart

you'll only need the ocean when you're angry.. you'll only need the winter when you're done.. you'll only ever be unfaithful to yourself.. I'm too remote to ever be the one

well you walk with a swagger
that's unearned
but it always fits you well
and you speak in a way
the warms the places
where them wildflowers dwell

a lady of undetermined age
I'd guess at forty-five or more
and each day comes as tide
and they break as waves
upon your kitchen floor

fierce as a hawthorn tree
warm as the sun
and cold as air
and your flowers grow through oil
plate and steel
like the barrel wasn't there

Oh Leslie Ann
I wonder what song
is on your mind..?
are you sleeping in that garden chair
and leaving
all this modern world behind?

are your dreams
a Polaroid of a photo taken many years ago..?
as the sweet grass of peace
grows between your true heart
and your big toe

I met me a girl
called Deja Vu
her folks seemed to know me
and her dog did too

she told me my future
as we lied in bed
she seemed to know the architect
inside my head

dirty blonde curls
and big eyes blue
and a voice that told ya
that she just knew

when she drove my truck
she'd kill the clutch
she used to drive me crazy
with her singing and sutch

she had my number
as far as I could see
but she never gave tips
on the lottery

she hated the future
but spliced we grew
and I made an honest woman
outta Deja Vu

spiraling debauchery
the pit in which I fell
tis fiendishly amoral
the tale of which I'll tell

I dreamt of tax accountancy
but my parents had a goal
to live their dreams vicariously
by dint of rock and roll

I played the aul triangle
I went to music school
I figured t'would be easy
just stand there with my tool

fast forward twenty summers
as fiction fell to fact
an electric triangle player
in a norwegian metal act

now I know it sounds absurd
I mean.. you've never heard it said
that she left the front man standing
for the lead triangle's bed

rolling stone has done a cover
I've had groupies up a tree
"your crib will feature friday"
said the guy at MTV

my crazy rider lists
did set the crazy tone
a minatiure mount everest
made from toblerone

my accountant calls me jesus
can't count half of what I got
the tour bus has a golf course
and the chicks are smoking hot

I've got triangle roadies
they tune the different notes
it's wall to wall coke orgies
in my one of many boats

they love me in bermuda
I've got cult status there
we party for a week or so
and then just disappear

I get expensive clothing
and panties in the post
the fans play air triangle
I eat caviar.. on toast

the doc has told me watch it
he's seen it all before
a burned out triangle player
and the endless search for more