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Ballad Home Poems | Ballad Poems About Home

These Ballad Home poems are examples of Ballad poems about Home. These are the best examples of Ballad Home poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

Johnny Had A Girl

Johnny was my best friend through our early teenage years;
Wherever one of us went the other could always be found near;
Until he found a girlfriend who soon supplanted me,
But because he was my best friend, for Johnny I was happy;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl
Johnny had a girl
She rocked his world
Johnny had a girl.

Throughout four years of high school I was always the third wheel;
Going off often by myself, leaving Johnny with his girl;
They learned about biology outside the class room walls;
Johnny always had plans with her every time I would call;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl
Johnny had a girl
Oh, what a thrill
Johnny had a girl.

One week before graduation, coming home from a date,
Johnny never saw the drunk driver until it was too late.
For three months in a coma, I sat by Johnny’s side;
I knew that when he woke up, someone had to tell him she’s not alive;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl.

I took him to the gravesite so he could see it with his own eyes;
We stayed there for hours so Johnny could say his goodbyes.

Johnny got in his car that day and started heading west;
Nobody has seen Johnny since, I wish him the very best.
I’ve taken care of her graveside for thirty years and more;
If Johnny ever comes home again, we’ll be friends just like before;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl
Johnny had a girl.


Details | Ballad | |

I'm Dreaming/ A Liberal Xmas Tale

Who was this white haired Claus 
With rabbit teeth? 
Carrying a ton of peanuts 
For all to eat.

Dragged in a sleigh pulled 
By Agnew and Nixon, 
Who ran right beside 
Donnar and Blitzen? 

He circled Camp David, 
A fast fly by; 
With lox and bagels for 
the Jewish guys. 

A carpenters’ pencil 
Was poised by his ear, 
And boxes of nails dangled, 
From the gear in the rear. 

Why! Its Jolly Ole Carter Claus 
Draped in menorahs. 
Handing out home plans to 
the Arab before us. 

Visions of world peace 
Danced in his head; 
As, he flew straight to Afghanistan
‘Fore noggin hit bed. 

When down from the sky 
In the form of deer dung, 
Fell fruit tree seeds 
Too be sown in the sun. 

And, as CarterClaus’ whip cracked 
O’er Nixon's ear, 
As Agnew blanched, 
His eyes filling with tears. 

Droplets hit sand with 
A plop and a splatter 
’Pon the fruit tree seeds with 
Nary a clatter. 

The desert grew green; 
Trees sprouted and grew; 
Hearts filled with wonder, 
Bellies with stew. 

Homes were rebuilt, 
as before the fall, 
Cook fires were lit. 
Children grew tall. 

And Ole Carter Claus 
Flew home in a daze. 
Passing out sandwiches 
That Roslyn had made.


Details | Ballad | |

FINALLY HOME

We'll climb over paper mountains
Cross over distant seas
We'll give away our fortune
We will get down on our knees
We'll be analyzed and scrutinized 
Receive training from the best
But until at last you're in our arms
We will never rest
We will never rest

And...
We're dreaming of the first time 
We will see your face
Such a sacred moment
That'll never be erased
All the sacrifice worth it
None of it a waste
'Cause when this journey's over
You'll be in this place
You'll be home
Finally home!

Today we got our travel approval
We're packing up our bags
Been through highlands and valleys
We've overcome a hundred snags
Done things we didn't think we could do 
We feel so very blessed
But until at last you're in our arms
We will never rest
We will never rest

And...
We're dreaming of the first time 
We will see your face
Such a sacred moment
That'll never be erased
All the sacrifice worth it
None of it a waste
'Cause when this journey's over
You'll be in this place
You'll be home
Finally home!

*Story of a family's long journey to adopt a orphan with special needs

Sponsor: Roger Horsch
Contest Name: Many Miles Away

4-1-14
Ballad


Details | Ballad | |

The country gathering

The country gathering

Sometimes the folk all got together
In the little country house
Now there was Tom the tiny tiger
Well, he could be a louse
But could he play that old guitar
Man! he made it speak
And when the folk did hear him play
He made their legs go weak.

There was Winifred the otter
How she did those drums
Her rhythm it could suck one in
If you were feeling glum
You’re legs would start to dancing
As you’d rise up to the sky
And all those troubles that you had
They’d fade away and die.

Now Mugly Minie, could she sing!!
She was the porcupine
She’d stand there with a glass of wine
And she’d just blow your mind
As Billie basset, the friendly bear
Would play that bass so cool
Now he was quiet, and very shy
But lord, he had it all.

People came from miles around
To hear those  fellows play
They’d dance and sing Chicago blues
Their hearts alive and gay
They’re going to be a big time band
One day, they all know this
But all they really want to do
Is play, that’s how it is.

24 July 2013 @ 1150hrs.


Details | Ballad | |

The girl

See the girl living on the streets? does anyone know she is there,
Do you see that girl down in the dumps? and does anyone care.
We don't know the reason that she left her home and do any of us want to know?
She's out in all weathers without any covers in rain, hail and snow.
Does anyone wonder if she's ever lonely when we're all tucked up in our beds,
when she's wet and cold,  and we're warm and cosy does it ever enter our heads.
She might have been beaten when her home she left, she's sad and she's lonely and often bereft. 


Does anyone see me alone on the streets? trying to smile at all that I meet,
asking for pennies for a warm cup of tea, we're not all on drugs, at least not me.
I'm trying to avoid going down that road I try to remember the things I've been told.
Stories of people lying in the gutter, and people passing by all of a mutter.
Do they care, what they see there? I suppose they think it's everywhere !
But I would like to say to all of you . I don't take drugs, I'm one of the few.
So to all of you sat home by your fires, spare a thought for me,
when you pass me by tomorrow, I'd love a cup of tea.


Details | Ballad | |

For them

For them.

To her the word love refers to a boy.
Something she yearns for and misses dearly.

The day they met was cold and fraught with January chill.

“Oh, that does seem so long ago.”

That is the untarnished memory she replays over and over again when events in her life go array.
Back then it was tangible and real, their lives together had not been succumb to so much misery and woe.

They have triumphed, failed, and even caused each other more pain than can be imagined; But through it all they always walked the path together, holding each others hand.

She loves him unconditionally and for that some people cant understand but love needs no excuses, certainly not for them.

She adores him for working so hard, slaving to the man trying to base a future and a plan for them, but she feels guilty that  their small American dream over the years has always led down a dead end.
With today’s hard times she knows they are not to blame, but still her idol hands carry burden with them.

A plot of land, a small farm, and a home to call their own so they may grow old.
that’s all the pair desire.

He loves her to, a thought that at times is unfathomable.
He admires her dreams, even if they are bigger than the world and never distills fear in her that they wont one day come true. She thinks ill rationally and believes in things as a child would, but this merely makes him smile at her spontaneous outlook.

To him she is like a wild bee, searching ferociously for something.
At times he doesn’t think she will ever find it, that’s why its so hard to see her cry.

Life hasn’t been fair for them.
It’s a tragic book that just keeps reading on.

But they muscle through living on their dream and knowing that as long as they have each other, everything will be alright.

And as they drive home to their house with no walls, catching glimpses of each other in their ratty car they don’t feel so alone.

Behind those blue eyes, she will be forever nineteen to him and to her, as she gazes into his brown large pupils; the boy she knows has grown into a man and at that moment they know, one day all the sacrifices they have made will pay off.


Details | Ballad | |

heaven on the water

trawlers steam out from dutch harbour
patroling the frozen waves
serching for gold under the sea 
to feed my family

in the wheelhouse the stars shine in
skyes dark and air so thin
no mater where this vessel takes me
my heart is yerning out for you

heaven on the water
is where im dreaming of my love
i see your face on the misty spray
as im calling out your name
heaven on the water
it wont be long my love
for a few more days i know you`l guide me 
guide me home to you

icey winds shiver my spine
as we bring out catch abord
empty net and broken dreams 
as the waves come crashing down

storms break loose with a crash of thunder
rolling across the bering sea 
up and down around then under
but still i dream of you

heaven on the water
is where im dreaming of my love
i see your face on the misty spray
as im calling out your name
heaven on the water
it wont be long my love
for a few more days i know you`l guide me 
guide me home to you

i see you face as the boat goes down
sea whispering my name
beconing me to the river
where we first found love

heaven on the water
im still here my love
watching you and our daughters 
from the stars above
heaven on the water 
calling out your name
calling out your name
heaven on the water
calling out your name


Details | Ballad | |

I'm Coming Home

He looks through the curtains as the meal is served

The sweat on his brow and the I.V. drips

Mom wears her apron with a picture of a turkey on it

It was her favorite and the music playing

And I'm coming home to where I'm loved

Father sits watching the game as the plate goes round

He had  money on the wrong side but he swigs a beer

Everyone seems happy and content so he knocks on the door

No one hears  and he stirs,trying to break free of the restraints

And I'm coming home to the warmth when I'm cold and alone

Where a man works and his wife cleans and raises the boys

Where desolation has no place to hide and no regret

And Mom hasn't begun drinking because her son left and will never come back

Where the geese still fly South to the warmth

Dogs bark and people have to stand to switch the channel

And I'm coming home

No cell phone or video games to gaze at and 24 hour news

The nurse brings a syringe and plunges it into my I. V.

The Angel wipes my soaking brow and gives me comfort

I'm alone with the mist and the murmur of the crickets

I'm coming home

The house is quiet and emptiness within

But Mom left a light on with expectation

A sign was set for all to know I'm coming

The quiet is lovely and the light welcomes

Home


Details | Ballad | |

NO MAN STANDS ALONE - The Ballad of Barney Ross

CHORUS
No man stands alone
in the street, the ring or the combat zone
some lay in the gutter
some sit on a throne
but no man stands alone

At the age of fourteen 
he had a dream
to become a rabbi 
Chicago 1924
then his dad was killed by men
who tried to rob the family store
his brothers and sisters were sent away
to an orphanage where they would stay
and though his faith was blown away
he vowed to bring them home someday

To God and man revenge he swore
he walked with gamblers, 
hoods and whores
he fit right in 
then on a whim
he walked into a boxing gym
he fought Canzoneri in ‘33
for the lightweight title victory
he made up with God 
and finally
he could reclaim his family

Those McLarnon fights 
were the stuff of lore
the only man 
to ever put him on the floor
he won two out of three, 
then in the Armstrong bout
he nearly died 
but was never knocked out
then in 1941
the Japanese pulled a sneaky one
so he joined the marines 
and he got a gun
and he sailed into the rising sun

On Guadalcanal, 
he fought so brave
overmatched like old King Dave
he put twenty attackers 
in an early grave
for the one marine 
whose life he saved
in a hospital bed 
for months and days
they kept him in a morphine haze
then sent him home 
strung out and beat
to the pushers on the mean, mean street

Hollywood was very keen
to put his story on the silver screen
but they focused on the drug abuse
he tried to sue 
but what’s the use?
Barney Ross was brave and strong
they couldn’t keep him down for long
his rabbi said that he must try
to be a model Jew in the public eye

but from the public eye he slipped
like a phantom radar blip
they say he hunted Nazi criminals
and he ran some guns to Israel

Barney Ross was brave and strong
I thought that he deserved a song
he did some bad
he did some good
and he saved the world
the best he could


Details | Ballad | |

TO EVERY SOLDIER THAT THEIR IS

One of the happiest days,
Is  bringing our soldiers home alive,
To where they can be seen,
By their families once again,
To show them we love them,
And care about them,
In the ways we should,
Cause they gave up their time,
And their lives for this country,
For our freedoms we often take for granted,
To protect us from the domestic evils of today,
Whether we see them or not,
We should praise them all,
For all that they have done,
Including those who have fallen,
And can Not walk back through the gates of home,
For they have fallen and given more for this country,
And sacrificed more than we pay attention too,
To save us all for our freedoms,
Which our country will often forget,
With time the fallen one's,
Because we often pay attention to those,
Who are here in front of us and can fight,
One day at a time,
Which is the wrong way to be,
Cause all soldiers are made the same,
And should never be forgotten in anyway,
Day after day cause we have what we have,
To remind us all of all who have sacrificed their lives,
For the freedoms we have to keep us safe,
Each and everyday!


Details | Ballad | |

I'm Comin' Home

Well, I'm high on country music.
And my mind, it won't refuse it.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

And I'm high on constellations.
Buddy, I've got relations.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

Now, you see it your way.
And baby, I see it my way.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

'Cause I'm high on country music.
And my mind, it won't refuse it.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

And I'm high on constellations.
And buddy, I've got relations.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

Now, you see it your way.
And baby, I see it my way.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

'Cause I'm high on country music.
And my mind, it won't refuse it.
The memories of our love.
I'm comin' home..

Country Music-Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1996,2014..ALL rights reserved..


Details | Ballad | |

My kiss from Heaven

My Kiss from Heaven

I used to have a Ouija board
I’d play with it for hours
I never really believed in it
I thought it had no power
It was just a novelty
To me, a piece of fun
Then once when I was playing it
Just before the day was done

All of the room went kind of still
And a silence touched my soul
It felt like angels were all around me
And my world felt kind of whole
My hand went whirring round that board
Like me, I could not stop it
I felt that I had no control
It disturbed me just a bit.

A message, well it seemed to come
It seemed to say to me
“Phone your father in the old country
And do it speedily”
So I did this, I phoned Mum up
She told me dad was sick
And If I wanted to see him alive
I’d have to get back quick.

Well I got back to see my dad
Then he died not too long after
I let him know how much I loved him
And we shared some tears and laughter
I ask, was this a kiss from Heaven?
It seems like this could be
All I know is I’m glad it happened
It changed my life for me.

11 September 2013 @ 1453hrs.
Peter Duggan.








Details | Ballad | |

Loneliness - A Country Song

I wonder what I am going to do.
I wonder where U are.
& I wonder why the cocktails, are no longer free at the bar.
I wonder why my ankles swell,
And I wonder if U know.
I wonder if the sugar’s sweet, and if ice really tastes like snow.

If you think my sugar’s sweet,
And ice really tastes like snow,
Then I wonder if when you remember me - you’ll call home and let me know.

It would be better for both of us,
If you’d call home and let me know.
Perhaps then, I’d know where to go.

I wonder if U love me,
I wonder if you’re true.
I wonder if the yard guy we hired is really out with the flu.
I wonder what happened to last night,
I wonder why I didn’t know.
& I wonder if you will spit in my hand,
And try to sell it as snow.

If you believe you will spit in my hand,
And try to sell it as snow,
Then I ask if when you remember me you will help me, by letting me go.

It would be the best thing for the both of us, if you would let me go.
I’m alone when I’m with you, alone when I’m not
I swear babe, I just don’t know.

I wonder why I give a damn,
Because clearly you do not.
I wonder when I’ll get a life, and stop wanting the one that you’ve got.
Wonder if I will grow some cajones,
I wonder where mine are,
And I wonder if it’s after five cause then cocktails - are free at the bar.


Details | Ballad | |

I know You Cape Breton

Hey, how are you

	Have you heard this one?
	Where there’s a midnight sun

		Listen to me now,
		Listen up young one
		One day I left someone

	Where did you say
	you were going?
	She looked so sad
	with her tears showing

		showing her a map of you,
		around the world to you,
		flying so fast at you,
		I left my Papua New Guinea,
		my home sweet home for you.

			So... like déjàvu, 
			You look so...
			Do I know you?
			No, don't say no...
			I know you!
			you were in my dreams

	You know that moment, 
	when you see her, 
	smile,
	the light,
	that shines, 
	that lifts you high 
	into outer space so high

oh how I longed for you,
Just you and me,
your seasons, my wonder..
I wonder when thunders,
remind my mind, 
my sleeping child,
suddenly awake,
But Nova's away..

	They say people say,
	you'd miss home, 
	you'll miss POM..
	you said no,
	No, No, No
	you'll be home
	From winter to Autumn
	Just you and I
	you'll be fine

		So when the leaves fall,
		Or when snow falls,
		Remember me,
		Remember us,
		Our time, may be dying,
		Maybe someday I'll find,
		My child no child,
		and the sun so fine,
		I'll be home bound,
			To my Ocean playground..



					
			



Details | Ballad | |

Old Flame

I was born in a small village,
with no distinction or privilege!
I loved every inch of that land
And carved the roads on my hand!
I kissed each olive tree on the trunk
Some thought I'd been really drunk.
It's always been my old flame,
And I still adore it the same.
It's always been in my heart
It nurtured my taste and art.


Details | Ballad | |

The Ballad of Malcolm McCorey

Come and listen awhile I pray
To hear a sad love story,
I have only a minute to stay
To tell the tale of Malcolm McCorey.

I'm Malcolm, Sally was my bride
I've loved her since grade school,
She was my life and my pride
And, I was her ever loving fool.

Work let off early that night
And it was pouring down in sheets,
When my eyes beheld the sight
Of Sally whoring 'tween the sheets.

My Sally was not forthcoming
And, I was blind by love's adoring,
I swear I never saw it coming
The day my Sally went a whoring.

This wasn't some casual adoring
That I might could understand,
This was at our home a whoring
In our bed with another man.

It was a cold and rainy night
And it was pouring down in sheets,
I wasn't prepared for the sight
Of Sally whoring 'tween the sheets.

The truth came like a blinding light
She couldn't wait to shut the door,
When I came home early that night
While she gaily played the whore!

She glared up at me in surprise
At seeing me suddenly arrive,
I stared back into her lying eyes
Down the barrel of my forty five!

It was a stormy and dismal night
And it kept pouring down in sheets,
I'll never forget the awful sight
Of Sally whoring 'tween the sheets.

The Padre' comes to comfort me
My life's now run it's course,
Today my pain will cease to be
Soon, I'll feel no more remorse.

I forgive myself of all at last
My soul will soon go soaring,
Today will soon be o'er and past
The pain, of Sally gone a whoring.


* Malcolm was executed in may of 1969. May God have mercy on his soul.


                        Timothy I. Brumley


Details | Ballad | |

SOLITARY ABROAD

Vehicles flow on the road
Engines rumble loudly throughout
All vehicles are running on the same road
But as each of them is different destination

So many people travel back and forth 
They step on the same path 
All of them are in a hurry and introvert
But they do not converse together
Each of them has own target

I blend with those people
I do not know them and they do not know me as well
I only recognize who am I? And where to go? 
My destination is my beloved  motherland 
I look upon someone's waiting for my return
Darling...!! I will be back...

Phoukhong SONEVONGXAY
Ho Chi Minh City. November 04, 2014


Details | Ballad | |

Oh, to be in Trinidad

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
Where the hot scented currents flow;
  From Caroni wetland to Nariva
Chaconia and silk cotton tree grow:
  Where reaching palms whisper
Across island reef and coconut lagoon,
  And the forests of Papa Bois
Crawl with water lilies in bloom

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
When equatorial rains have passed;
  And gaze Big Wet to Big Dry
Burning canefield and wildgrass.
  Lowland baptism of blossom
Resurrect from Toco to Mayaro Bay,
  And in reacquainted seasons
Waves of consciousness slip away

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
Where tales of bacchanal abound;
  How old chimes with new
Yet uprising does a trumpet sound!
  And ghosts of the revolution
Fan the flames in the hot raging sun;
  Where dat voodoo spirit rise
The Obeah Man when day is done

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
For Crab and Callaloo on Sunday...
  Let the Boca gulf gates lull
And stars over Tobago my fears allay.
  Dream and moonstruck gaze
Till Monos windsong wakes no more;
  Listen and you too shall hear
Rapping upon her hideaway shore

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
For the Scarlet Ibis returning flown;
  Hummingbird's backward dance,
Beauty I'm richer for having known!
  And in days of future past
Tread again these island strands;
  First trod on Maracas Beach
Or Rancho Caballero grasslands

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
When the Oval's at its raucous best,
  And the lions of Queen's Park
Bay for Christians in noble contest;
  Where the air sweet with rum
Fills with Doubles and Pepperpot;
  And the drums and soca play
Till everyone feelin' Hot! Hot! Hot!

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
Playin' Mas' with cart and barrow;
  When masquerade and fete
Jump loudest to Kitch and Sparrow!
  Calypsonian tents jammin',
Limbo flame sparks the night flare,
  And Carnival streets jumpin'
From St Augustine to old St Clair

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
Among the blood of African slave,
  And not be destined, alas,
To lifeless fill a cold foreign grave!
  Lo, where indentured cargo
In waves landed upon South Quay...
  I pray the bells of Greyfriars
Will gently toll in absence for me

  Oh, to be in Trinidad
When the great Savannah dawns;
  Hot Roti and Roasted Corn
In early light over its tracks and lawns.
  Land of my nativity begun
From hills to blue Caribbean Sea;
  I miss that golden age ended
And lament why so it had to be

         -----------------


August 1995


Details | Ballad | |

JUST TO BE

               

                            Where is 
that place were I can just be, 
silent and peaceful
                      Like the paced 
waves of the sea. I long for a 
space inside heaven 
                      Were I'm free, 
I'm finally home just like it was 
meant to be.
                      Friends and 
family wear their hearts on 
their sleeve, love and devotion
                      Meets our every 
need.


                              No longer 
do we  struggle, or faint or 
fight to be free, for
                      We are finally in 
the place we can just be.
                      Not a blemish 
or fault can be found within 
me, my savior has cleansed 
                      Me of sin I am 
free, to worship and praise in 
complete divinity.


                            My father 
and his son and a place made 
just for me, crown on my head
                     White robe down 
to my feet, beautiful mansion 
towers over the sea, emerald
                     Waters glisten 
diamonds for free. I can run, 
jump, even fly if need be, in 
my 
                     Wonderful home 
created just for me


                         No pain, fear 
or worries plague this heart 
inside me, and I am alive and 
                    Coexist in 
complete harmony.swung open 
are the garden gates, as they 
were  
                    Intended to be, I 
now sing, laugh and play in 
heaven where I'm free!


Details | Ballad | |

Why

We live we die and then we eat pie,
Sharing it with angels in the sky
To drown the sorrow and the pain
To stop time and start life all over again

But no, this is how its to be 
we live we die for our country
And if we make it home again
We hope our country will be our friend
To some of us life begins,
But to others comming home is the end.

Our lives are over, our future on ends
our country neglects us
there is no end, to the hurt 
that never ends.

So we live, we die and the we ear cheese
While our country does what it please.


Details | Ballad | |

Ballad of Trinidad: Part 1

 Remember when days were long
   And all de children do is play:
 Or how de burnin sun hot like fire
   And snow cone ice melt away,
 When I was a wee lad in Trinidad

 And licks fuh so in de bam bam
   If I do or say I right when I wrong!
 Playin cricket in de front yard
   In ragged shirt and watchicong,
 Wit my bat and pad in Trinidad

 Hear de dogs of Independence,
  "Masser's day has come" dey bark,
 And snarl "now we in charge!"
   But all dey do is fete and skylark,
 Dats why tings bad in Trinidad

 Den me Faddah "really speakin"...
   And me Muddah, how she grieve:
"Aye yah yie, it time to vamoose...
   Oh crime...it time to leave",
 Dat all hell gone mad in Trinidad

 I say to she "yuh makin joke!
   Mummy, what is dis tomfoolery?"
 Man, next ting I know I on a boat
   Past de Bocas headin out to sea,
 And I was sad to leave Trinidad

 Dey get vex and riot in de street,
   Trow stick, pelt stone, and cuss:
 Shout "Black Power...Malcolm X..."
   PNM say "why all yuh makin fuss?"
 But tings get real bad in Trinidad

 Trinis start to swell up dey face
   And ax demself "is all yuh fuh real?"
 Criminals was skinnin dey teet
   Burnin and lootin lookin to steal -
 Destroyin what we had in Trinidad

 But I would from my exile return
   De land of rapso, kaiso, and calypso!
 Where de panman play, "padna"
   And de Cahneeval jumpin fuh so,
 Den I was glad to see Trinidad

 Back to limin on sandy beach
   Wit buss-up and shark 'n bake...
 Drinkin rum, Carib, and Stag spyin
   All de girls backside shake!
 Girls sweet too bad in Trinidad

 If yuh see party fuh so in East
   Or fete in de village dong Sout:
 And Jouvay dawn at Pelican Inn
   Till Road March jump and shout,
 Dis is de lime I had in Trinidad


              
 
             End of Part 1


January 2009


Details | Ballad | |

HOME

home, when can i be with you?

laughter around a room..
familiar faces doesn't leave any doom..
under the dusk of moon..
i will be there soon..

scents of fresh buds and dews .
it beckons memories many not few..
walking circles with my shoes
shifting melodies in cues...

in the little kitchen
i saw mama in big mittens
holding viands and flans
exaggerating any bounded plans...

outside, lots of puppies
running jumping with glee..
some waggles their tail
some hounding in frail..

deepening outside..
old faces side by side..
all they are what a sight..
they'll be glad im on cite..

missing home; missing home..

my heart warms just thinking its soon...


Details | Ballad | |

BALLAD OF THE BAD BOY In MONTANA dedicated to my grandmothers twin sister

Some songs
Are of saddest times
The skies of darkest days
Some words
Bring such discontent
There are no gentle ways
To tell the tale
Without the tears
That tear the heart in two
But I will share
This saddest tale
Of hearts both black and true

There was a widow 
With a son
He was a spunky lad
And when she found 
Another man
The boy turned
Mean and sad.

The maid who cleaned the widow’s house
Saw the what was going on.
How each day the battle raged 
As soon as she was gone.

The man took off
His silver belt
And like a man insane
He beat the boy, he cursed at him 
And called him filthy names.

The mother’s love had maddened him
 He hounded the poor child
Jealousy had filled his head
By hate his heart defiled.

He loved the widow, now his wife
Her son was in the way.
He sent the boy away to school
On that their wedding day.

The boy wrote home--
He hated school
They beat him there and worse
They starved the boy
To punish him
For writing silly verse.

The boy wrote home to plead his case
He promised to be good.
He begged to be at home again
He’d even chop the wood!
 
At the widow’s urging
The man re-read the letter
'He must come home'--his sweetheart cried--
'He's promised to be better.'

The man sent off the widow 
Quick to get her son
She left him on the next train
Before the day’d begun.

The day was hot, the winds were bad
The clouds, they shouted rain
The neighbors said that angels wept
As they hailed the train

The man stopped by to get the mail
Without his widow’d  wife
Another letter from the school
How tiresome was his life!

He put the letter in his bag
And headed his way home
When bedtime came he got it out
He liked to read alone.

'Your son is dead,' the letter said,
The hand was from a man
the school was starving naughty boys
the lawmen had a plan.

The school would close, the boys all leave
But one boy would remain.
The dead boy would be with his ma
When she returned by train.

The man who loved the widow
And took her for his wife
Hanged himself before the dawn
And took his own dear life.

The widow and her son
Returned through beating rains
She walked into that darkened house
And blew apart her brains.


Details | Ballad | |

Dakota Skies Part 1

My brother and I walk the south pasture on an early spring day,
The warmth of spring slowly melting, the cold of winter away.
The golds of old growth are broken by the green of new,
And we are drifting in dreams, though we have work to do.
Gathering the cows for milking, we allow Father Time to pass by,
When a shadow in the barbed wire catches my brother’s eye.
We run through the stubble of last season allowing dreams to lead, 
Shaped by childhood stories which we had seen and read.
The cries draw us near where she hangs, limply as if half dead.
Each barb is cutting deeply. She slowly bleeds the earth red.
The life within her still pulsing its unbreakable bond
We make a solemn vow, a promise, to the crying, broken fawn.
Freeing her from her prison, we discover she is too weak,
She cannot stand or fight, has lost the force of her instinct.
My brother lifts her to his chest and orders me to go on.
For the chore of our cow gathering still must be done.

Miles between us and home, they trudge, a child with a child
Him dreaming of what will be when we tame the wild.
The weight of the burden breaks him and he falls to his knees.
Looks to the heavens for strength, but there is only me.
Her hooves drag along beside and I cradle her in my arms -
The weight of her pulling me downward, and yet I struggle on.
We entrust her to the dancing shadows of the oak tree in the yard,
And beg our mother for help but her motto is “Life is hard.
The veterinarian is more than we can spend. Milking still needs done.
Wild animals should be left to nature and the course which it will run.”
With a child’s gesture of love, we leave her and gather grain.
The labor of farm children - as essential as the rain.
(There is a Part 2 which can be found on my page.)


Details | Ballad | |

Headed Home

    There is a mist 
on the waters 
    As the ocean laps 
against the shore we 
     realize it is time 
for our journey to begin
   The ship in the harbor 
stands tall
   It will take us 
beyond this vale of tears 
   to a land where 
stories have no endings 
  It will take us 
      over the sundering sea
to a place seemingly foreign to us 
    yet one we actually know well 
    in the deep recesses of our heart
  As we board the ship 
we experience a bittersweet 
   moment
We will miss the joys of Middle Earth
    but we hear the call of Elvenhome
and we know it is time to forsake mortal lands 
Time to head to the place which is our real home 
     Time to head to Elvenhome
    


Details | Ballad | |

Ballad of Trinidad: Part 2

  Me Faddah, he like de ole talk,
    De ghost of Jumbie Bridge in he head:
 "Murder!" He laugh at all dem Trinis
    And how dey all "fraid de dead!" 
  In Big Bertha clad from Trinidad

  He tink of tings back home like
    When de plum and de mango ripe:
 "Jeez-an-wrinkles!" He bol' face say
    How "Crapo smoke yuh pipe!"
  God bless my dad from Trinidad

  He steups so and he say "boy,
    Trinidad full of ba'john and ole tief!
  Riddled wit crime and corruption...
    Warahouns in charge, Good Grief!" 
  And for all dis I sad for Trinidad

  Me Muddah too, she say to me
   "Hold strain and calm yuhself chile!"
  She say "son, doh be a saga boy,
    Doh flash and doh make style" 
  Lest you be a cad from Trinidad

  Man, de whole place gone to hell
    And dey doh know how to fix she:
  All de younger generation fuhget 
    What it mean to be a Trini -
  To be proud and glad in Trinidad

  Now dey pull out cutlass and gun
    If on dey tail yuh lash out and cuff!
  Man, dese days no-one safe at all,
    Trinis fed-up and had enough!
  How tings get so mad in Trinidad

  All yuh in T 'n T so blasted vex
    At de government and Manning:
  But in trute yuh still like to fete
    And drink and lime and ting!
  Den bawl bobbol bad in Trinidad

  It jus like back in de Canboulay
    When de lawless slaves run wild,
  Or in de dark days of rebellion
    And uprisin when I was a child,
  When tings went rad in Trinidad

  A pelau or buljol in yuh mout -
    Sorrel, a mauby, me ginger beers;
  Gimme pastelle and ponchecrema
    From Christmas to Ole Years!
  Dis is de taste I had of Trinidad

  De Spanish come, de French too;
    Boy, de British dey bring a queen:
  Dat was way back when dis island
    Was de jewel of de Caribbean -
  Before I was a wee lad in Trinidad




January 2009


Details | Ballad | |

Bitter Sweet Journey

Nine years a stranger in a strange land,
     Travelling to my island in the sun;
A native son returning a native strand
     Where the journey had all begun

Of Icarus in the sun I death contrived,
     And my beating heart grew ever loud
When the BeeWee wings of wax dived
     Into that misty archipelago cloud

Piarco tarmac on grassy plains below,
     Soon upon the trail of Queen's Park;
Charting the maps of time long ago -
    'Twas late and the boulevard was dark

The Banyan trees, the rustling palms,
     Glow of that high December moon;
To my soul a succour its island balms,
     And balmy breezes bore a gentle boon

Down the Churchill-Roosevelt I did see,
     Beetham shanties and LaBasse go by;
But 'twas Port of Spain's restless quay
     That conspired to grab my roving eye

Fishing boats off the high seas berth
     Her clamorous city docks and pier;
The Gulf of Paria's sleepy channel firth -
     And look...it's Independence Square

Upon the corner of Sweet Briar and Gray,
     Where as a boy I played in the rain;
Waking by carol song on Christmas Day,
     And hearken, Greyfriar's sweet refrain

See ancient Savannah parched and bare,
     Tormented by season's blazing sun;
Yonder hazy hilltop ridges no better fare,
     But soon the rains will in deluge come

Over blustery Northern Straits we flew
     To Buccoo Reef and blue island coral;
Tobago's Crusoe shores came we to view
     With her verdant hills rich and floral

Upon the Coast Road to Maracas Bay
     Drinking a fool's fill by the fire's flame;
But I was seventeen almost to the day,
     And at seventeen I was always game

I met a lass - her eyes through me tore,
     More lovely than words can convey:
Beauty I've not known, not since or before,
     I'd like to remember her this way

Fondly I gaze the dormant Oval grounds,
     Rapturous but for a short lived respite:
At my window did roar out the sounds
     Of steelband and parang in the night

With February upon us quickly I fear -
     Carnival's sleeping tribes awakened;
I had no costume, no robes to wear,
     Yet my burning spirit was unshaken

Behold on Jouvay morn at break of light
     Spilled hordes out of Sparrow's tent;
Revellers in the streets day and night
     Till Last Lap, Ash Wednesday and Lent

But our time here had drawn to an end,
     And leaving again bitter sweet for me:
Saddened alas but my heart does mend,
     For this is my home and always will be

                     -----------

Trinidad


May 1992


Details | Ballad | |

Last Days in Maine

I am powerless in mind and within my body,
This alcohol has got me down and I am paralyzed,
The world in which I call home cannot be analyzed,
All through this drink, with this I have declared my hobby.

My Friends do not respect me to which I cannot blame,
I am depressed beyond recognition and with it I feel shame,
Years without and years repressed and years I call lame,
Not one happy relationship, not with family or dame.

Salvation is coming and I keep telling myself bleakly,
Each day my sanity goes through hoops only to survive meekly,
The end has only that alcohol to calm my stress,
This alcohol feels as if I am saved from the rest.

I'm almost there and almost free from this asylum,
My friends around seem to care not even some,
I'm losing the fight even when both sides are done,
Three days until I'm home again...any longer and my life be gone.

(I survived and am now much healthier)


Details | Ballad | |

Beyond These Walls

I lay here helplessly on my pillow
The silence is loud, the lights are low
No trace of my love to touch me in places
Where only she knows and where my spot is
I cannot wait to be at home
This is just a house when I'm alone
Yet don't fret, contented I'll remain
Until the distance fades and she comes home again

Beyond these these walls far away, yet so close
Is my only love, the girl I love most
Her kiss still lingers on my cold lips
That awaits the warmth of her tender kiss
Although there are days i can't understand her
Her Individuality makes my heart ponder
Yet somehow she has my constant attention
And she reassures me that I am still the one

So I'll wait for her to make it home again
When she comes to let all her love flow
I'll forever cherish the times we spend
Whether between or beyond these wall, I won't let her go


Details | Ballad | |

The Sailor with the one-eyed look

'Twas a cold wintry day
the road was frozen white and gleamin'
a pale sun stood over the clouds
watching them float lazily by
in the corner of a street
on a flat stone, so to speak
sat an old man, bearded and bare
he is the sailor with the one-eyed look

Sat as straight as a ramrod, did he,
back to the blizzard, now astride
with fingers so numb, eyes dim to see
getting a ha'penny from a passer-by
tramps and urchins flocked at he,
told them stories of the seas, he did
with arms a'waving like sails, you see
a gleam of joy in his eyes show'd

For he'd been to the wars
sailing on the ships of Her Majesty
seen it all, he's did, and lived,
came back home to muffins and tea
t'was on the seas he lost an eye
plucked out in an enemy fight
wounded and left behind to die
but didn't, and now home and dry

Retired from Her Majesty's service, he'd
now homeless, helpless, this once proud sailor
left with neither coin, nor a roof over his head
forced to the slums, living out of the gutter
t'was a piteous sight to behold, fie it!
would'a loved to chomp on choicy bit
displayed in the streets like in mama's kitchen
but not for his palate, just to be seen

Then it came, one bright sunny day
oh, what a bliss from snow and hail
tramps and children, out to play
free from the fear of icy pain
but alas! no sign of the sailor
save a snowy effigy, and on it his comb
for while snow lasted, the snow tailor'd
a snowy covering on him; it was his tomb!