Ballad Poems (504)

Life is fragile
Life is limited
Wonder why there is life
Does God feel lonely without any human life entertainment ?
Does God love to watch all of the suffering of the human life ?
It's a mystery ....
It's a misery .....
Life seems allright in the beginning ....
But it gets complicated and sad when the time goes by
It's just an illusion
It's not eternal....
But our spirit will be eternal forever ...
It's a mystery ...
It's a stage created by God to entertain himself
By human suffering and sadness ..
Eventhough we don' t admit it
Oh... life
Auooooo....( tarzan's yell )

I raised my own turkey one year,
to be part of our Yuletide fare,
he lived in the house like a pet,
and we spared no expense on his care.

When it came to the fateful day,
for the gathering to be fed,
it was with a heavy heart,
I took an axe and cut off his head.

Then, on the very next day,
half asleep in my favourite chair,
his spirit appeared right before me,
the turkey’s ghost on the stair.

And now every year at Christmas,
since through that bird’s neck I sliced,
my turkey comes back to haunt me,
in the form of a poultrygeist.

“We have eaten all the oysters,”
the Carpenter proclaimed.
The Walrus looked around to see
no single one remained.
“They were so plump and tasty, though,
we hardly can be blamed.”

The Walrus and the Carpenter
walked off along the sand,
then all at once they noticed they
were walking hand in hand.
Although, as to the reason why,
they did not understand.

And then the Walrus turned to speak,
but knew not what to say.
Perhaps a word or two about
the strangeness of their day.
“I’m worried,” said the Carpenter,
“I think we might be gay.”

“That’s not so bad,” the Walrus said,
“in fact, it might be fun.”
“Let’s stop right here upon the sand
And make love in the sun.
But when he turned to face his friend,
The Carpenter had gone.

Hearts? yes
be they a bell
still dimly
all a chime

though faint and pure
it sleeps a'rest
neath the fraying
canvass of time

yet
what is
comfort friend?
what is rest

and what balances
the ledger
of your heart
when all her mores are less?

subtle guile
commutes
to inferior shores
tís true..

and how can a man
love his girl
when every
heart is blue?

the only place
a fearsome heart
will only
ever hide

let me sleep
in the valley
beyond the reach
of every horse and guide

I took a walk in ancient clothes
across your face, a mile
and as I tired I took a rest
in the corner of your smile

my crops slept in barren fields
before my primary death
then your eyes became a sun and moon
as birds danced in your breath

to me you are a woman
vast fields of shimmering hair
in the hardest trials I see you
when no-one else is there

I sailed across your angry tides
when I bowed to grief and fear
yet I always find safe anchor
in the harbour of your ear

So many questions i don't know..some say things that they don't know...
Don't know why i'm happy to not know, by being ignorant and saying,"don't know!"
I know not why the words "don't know". Mean what they mean..do you not know?.
However!.. "Honesty" when you say "don't know"means something big when you really don't know.
why i wrote this poem (well sort of poem)........? I don't know

There's something in me i couldn't explain
You make me smile and cry i can't complain
When you're around babe, i go oh so crazy
And everything goes romantic and fuzzy

Those eyes gives reason to chill the night
With your kisses burning me deep and tight
How your skin touches me so passionately
How am i able to call your name oh so lovely

You shine like a stars over me
Plus bringing so much glee
Your love takes me to other world
With you i know ill never get cold

twas a time of fresh worn innocence, eighteen years of age, and the writ of my experience fell short upon the page, ragged as a student who had never eaten warm, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

hardly out of smallburg, green as an apple tree, two dinner plated startled eyes and jeans without a knee, as beauty slept in rapture behind oaken doors forlorn, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

my recollection hazy, of how I slept that night, unable to articulate my thought with my delight, they made a man of me, strengthening my form, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

breakfast at the table, my eyes fixed to my spoon, with a dozen or so sirens, laughing at my swoon.. and the scent of what I felt heaven was, seemed to be the norm, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

thirty summers later, wife and family too, I chanced on to return there, my memories to renew, said the angel of prosperity, three decades on her form.. come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

I was mending a hull 'neath the crying gull
when the call came down the line
my dad had gone.. his time had come
and a world of hurt was mine

left my girl to anger swirl
told her "needed space"
but I was dust.. not even lust
could the hurtin' I replace

time dragged on when I was gone
my love I failed to warn her
about the rendezvous I shared with you
in a pub.. on poet's corner

"I'm the ghost of every girl you've loved"
your spectre said to me
I'll haunt your mind.. till you go blind
and then I'll let you be

and the bird that nested in the eve
fed its young in Byron's sleeve
in the pub
on poet's corner

hence every night my daily fight
is a scramble to emerge
strong and well from the bowels of hell
where the dark and madness merge

where music from the walls
is bled
by DJ spectres
and souls undead

and the bird that nested in the eve
told me that I'd never leave
the pub
on poet's corner

a white cloud of teeth
approaches
looks..
and reconsiders

02:03
at the nightclub
a confrontation
I work the door

a struggle
we trade
I remove
the bigger man

he sees
his own blood
my squat silhouette
heavy goatee

"you are just
a psychotic walrus..! "
shouts he
from kerbside chamfered bivouac

guffaws
from staff
onlookers
bystanders


nickname..
tattoo