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Ballad History Poems | Ballad Poems About History

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

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Details | Ballad | |

Running Tide

Knee deep in surf
The water clung to her
Changing silk gown
To wrinkled shiny  skin
Never had I envied ocean water so
But then t'was I who'd let her go
Drowning in green eyes
With fear of clinging ties
Holding me back


Details | Ballad | |

From Sunday School to Monday Morning

Once again I tip the scale
And mutter, whoever invented it was a man from hell.
It was not a woman who created weights for size
For women can look past the outer shell
And search deep for what is inside.
Men must have their cake and eat it too…
From head to toe-perfection-from hat to shoe
I dress in all white for today I must teach Sunday school
If only a man’s heart would find my food
I can shake and bake
If only on my plate would a handsome man chance to take.

The preacher gets up on the pulpit and puts on his show
Talks about the place where adulterers must go
None of us admit he is a hypocrite as we all know
For he has slept with every woman in the front row.
But, even still my pig’s feet goes from hot to cold
No matter how many ties for him I’ve sewn.
Some women have all the luck
Others like me can’t even get a look-let alone a touch
Being me, ah yes, it is too much.

Sister “Gossip” waves her fan as I go past
“Speak out loud?” would be too much to ask.
I wonder if it is my skirt that is too tight
Or whether I will be at home alone again tonight
I wonder if whatever she says about me is worth a fight
Or is it even true and right.
I pray for her soul with all my might,
I can’t let the Devil move into my mind.

People tell me I sing like a bird
Its gospel time, time to praise the Lord with words
I walk on stage to take my turn
Hands sway from side to side and my throat burns…
But the men stare at the teenager in the short skirt
And the first lady with the red dress
My curves ripple my stomach
For I am not that blessed
I have what a man wants to hear
But to lye beside me is what they all fear.

The service offered nothing by way of encouragement.
But, I have worshiped God
Even if the day was not heaven sent
I know somehow it must be time well spent.
I kiss the little children good-bye
And pretend all is joyous on the inside.
Satin-Legs Smith walks pass the church and sighs
We all know what is on his mind
Therefore though I dream of marriage he doesn’t give me the time.
He looks at me winks and a little smile.
He would only laugh if I asked him to come eat with me
For a little while.

I hang my coat in the closet
Beside a dusty wedding dress
I was wishful thinking when I bought it.
It is four sizes to small
I had planned to shrink into it by last fall.
But, too much time passed and I can’t even return it to the mall.
I can’t bring myself to put it in the trash down the hall.
I may use it for curtains or to cover the dirt stains on my front wall.

I lay myself down to sleep
And pray to the Lord my soul to keep.
And that I do not die before love I see
It is enough to at least give me hopeful dreams.

Monday comes and I have to go off to clean
For rich white people who don’t need anything.
Except for J. Alfred Prufrock
He lives on top 
Of the food chain
But he too is looking for love
We’re both the same.
He always looks at me like he has something to say
But he can’t get past his bald spot or the creases on his face.
Again I wonder should I do the flirting dance
Let him know I am available and that I can
And I will, so he will take a chance
I know he would be willing to love me still
I am not settling for second best!
He is a man!
I am a woman!
Shouldn’t we make love manifest?

I think I will give it a go
And see if I could be someone he would come to know
A fine meal some sweet potatoes and a roast
A pan of peach cobbler, such things men love the most.
I will make his house squeaky clean
Show him what he could expect if he married me.
I drive up and he is at his window
Watching his neighbors come and go
Eavesdropping on their conversations
About Michaelangelo.
And he is reading a book, Dante’s “Inferno”

“Is this for me?” when he sees the plate of food.
I nod yes and hope it gets him in the mood
He smiles, blushes and turns red.
All sorts of happy thoughts run through my head.
But still he only eats and does not speak
It seems the asking will be up to me. 
But what do I say for I do not wish to be
Considered by him, a hussy.
I ask him if he likes the movies.
He tells me he prefers plays
“I have never been to one” I say.
“Maybe I shall take you to one someday.”	
“And I will make you a German Chocolate cake.”
“I guess then it is a date.”

How should I wear my hair?  Should I sport an afro?
Or get a perm?  This is the time to use all those make up tips that I learned.
It seems I will feel the joy of being an Eve.
The birds are singing just for me.
The sun is shining, the flowers are blooming.

Will they be putting Prufrock on my tomb stone
If I do this right I won’t die alone…


Details | Ballad | |

Bruise Me

You always try
to break me down
you always try to knock me out
damage me with just your words
not physical but it still hurts
and all you do is make it worse.

You bruise me
Cut me with your tounge
Brutalize me, cut and binding
as my blood pours from the scars.
You bruise me
and it's really nothing more.

Berate me
go on hate me
it's something you love to do
yell at me, because now i see
there's nothing left for me with
you.
Your eyes so cold, words are old
nothing else that you can say
times running out, it's over now
and your the one who bruised
it away.

You bruised me
Cut me with your silver tounge
Brutalize me, cut and binding
As my blood pours from the scars
You bruised me
And really nothing more.


Details | Ballad | |

Clan Call

Tearing gusts of highland winds dim the sound of pipes
No one knows and no one sees and no one sets it right, 
Heavy hearted sadness carries, other souls who went ahead, 
Ghosts of kindred spirits living now or living dead, 
Running through the gorse and heather wishing for a horse to ride, 
Disregarding wind and weather, Grim, the reaper by my side. 
Places I would rather see.... Home's still where I yearn t' be, 
I'll never have you there with me... 'tis lost...
both love
and pride





Jonji ‘s dance within my mind
and well within the ken o’ men
I just prepped the canvas


Details | Ballad | |

The Ballad of Pearl Harbor

Just sitting there mighty 
The ships and the people.
Flying American
Flags and the eagle.
Just sitting in harbor
That Sunday morn,
Oblivious to battle
And coming forlorn.

Drinking their coffee
And eating their breakfast
Things were going
Right along with their wishes
When suddenly a soldier
Did speak up and say,
"They're some blips on the radar
And they're coming our way!"

Then the officer said
"Now look here you see,
They're our boys coming home
In their B-17's.
So don't get all worked up,
No excitement today,
So get back to working
And resting and play!"

Now planes flying by
Were soon to be heard
But a shout soon went up
"Hey! Those are not our birds!"
Explosions to follow
Soon filled the sky
Now stand up and fight,
Or lay down and die

Guns fired back,
The battle was on,
But pretty soon after
The battleships were gone!
They were stuck in the harbor
With no way out,
And smoke's hanging over
The harbor in clouds

A valiant defensive 
The defenders put forth
Desperately trying to
Even the score,
But their goals completed
The enemy turned back
Leaving behind them
Devastation and black

Many men died
On that fateful day
But a little luck came
The American's way!
Their carriers were still,
Far out at sea,
And part of the battle
They never did be!

Pearl Harbor will live on 
In infamy
Stories of those who died
To keep their land free!
Their ultimate sacrifice
Helped the whole world to see
That America's the land
Of the brave and the free!


Details | Ballad | |

Poem by Kasiananthan on the Tamil Diaspora and Eelam, trans by T Wignesan

The Parrot and the Woodpecker may turn...
    [Sung by TEnicayccal Cellappa]        Translated by T.Wignesan
 
mAnkiliyum marankottiyum                    The parrot and the woodpecker

   kUtutirumpa tatayillai                             their nests to regain  nothing waylays

nAnkal mattum ulakattilEyE                    Only we  in all this world

   nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai                        our homeland to seek may not turn      

   nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai                        our homeland to seek may not turn

                            [Above refrain repeated twice]

cinkalavan pataivAnil                               From skies filled with Sinhalese planes

  neruppai alli corikiratu                             fire tumbles down in seething showers 

enkal uyir tamil Elam                              Our lifeblood   our Tamil Eelam

  cutukAtAy erikiratu                                      a simmering graveyard on fire

 

tAykatarap pillaikalin                               While mothers rave in pain  children’s

 nencukalaik kilikkinrAn                             breasts  the oppressor tears apart

kAyyAkum munnE ilam                           Long before they might ripen    tender

  pincukalai alikkirAn                                  the buds crushed from burgeoning

                                       [Refrain]

pettavankal UrilE                                   Those who begot us back home

 Enku rAnku pAcattilE                              tossing  turning in their longing for us

ettanai nAl kArttiruppOm                       For how many days might we linger on

 atuttavan tEcattilE                                  in the other man’s refugee land

 
unnavum mutiyavillai                                Without proper food

 urankavum mutiyavillai                              without sufficient sleep

ennavum mutiyavillai                                Unable rightly even to think

  innumtAn vitiyutillai                                  when will the day dawn for us

                                           [Refrain]

kitti pullu atittu nankal                              We who played at kitti pullu*

 vilaiyAtum teruvilEyE                                  joyously in the heedless streets

katti vayttuc cutukirAnAm                         There now tethered  others lie felled

 yAr manatum urukavillai                             no  no hearts pain for us

 
Ur katitam patikkayilEyE                       When our eyes light on letters from home

 vimmi nencu vetikkitu                           sobs prise open our brimming breasts

pOrpulikal pakkattilEyE                         By the flanks of battling Tigers

 pOkamanam tutikkitu                            there to be  our hearts throb and yearn

                                           [Refrain]

Note: * A competitive game played by hitting a small stick with a bigger one, the goal being to cover the greatest distance. Also called in Tamil Nadu and Malaysia: kavuntA kavunti.                                      

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 1995. From the collection: “Words for a Lost Sub-Continent” (2001). Excerpted from “Kasi Ananthan: Poet Laureae of Tamil Eelam” by T. Wignesan in Hot Spring: A Journal of Commitment, Vol. 3, No. 9 (London), December 1998, pp. 17-18.


Details | Ballad | |

The Alien

The Alien.
                           
"Here's the village Idiot
Here comes the loony fool"
So many taunts did follow him
Oh kids can be so cruel!
The Alien, his face all cowed
With caution treads his way
As the gossip done, invades him every day.

He's a shade too short on mighty brawn
He's a pilgrim of the soul
He's a Sailor floating through his dreams
And he has no worldly goals
And when those kids kicked footy balls
And swore and carried on
The alien got lost  within his own song.

He's been told that he be nothing
By so many through the years
And now his body broken
Still wading in his fears
The wings have made to open up
So the butterfly may rise
And so the mighty Phoenix 
must head he for the skies.

Dec 22 2003.


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 | |

GUNSYND - THE GOONDIWINDI GREY

He was out of Woodie Wonder by the stallion Sunset Hue, 
A freak thought breeding purists, who would surely end up glue. 
For greys were so unfashionable he'd never get a start, 
But this colt was a fighter with a truly valiant heart. 
 
His origins were New South Wales, but sold up Queensland way, 
'Twas Pippos, Coorey, Bishop and McMicking bought the grey. 
A Goondiwindi syndicate, who gave the colt his name; 
Gunsynd ...  the punter's darling ...  who raced his way to fame. 
 
He'd never be a Peter Pan, a Carbine or Phar Lap, 
No Tullock or a Galilee, but still a gallant chap. 
Bill Whelow was his trainer and John Edmonds rode The Grey, 
Till finally at Eagle Farm this colt was on his way. 
 
It was the Hopeful Stakes that day in nineteen sixty-nine, 
Young Gunsynd flashed from thirteenth place to cross the winner's line. 
His trademark was his courage, his will to want to win 
And how he made the crowds all stand to cheer the grey horse in. 
 
They loved The Grey's performances;  a showman through and through 
And though he never always won they saw him as true blue. 
Before and after races, he would play the press and crowd 
By standing to attention while they clapped and cheered aloud. 
 
With twelve wins to his credit Tommy Smith was now the chap, 
Who trained Gunsynd while Langby won the Epsom Handicap. 
He was the punter's darling, for he never squibbed a race, 
That's why the folk all loved him, for he never did lose face. 
  
The white and purple colours were well known at ev'ry track, 
Australia's best known jockeys sat astride old Gunsynd's back. 
The likes of Olsen, Higgins and young Langby rode The Grey 
And flashed to blist'ring finishes, he raced no other way. 

In over fifty starts Gunsynd had twenty-nine great wins; 
Some eight point five times second placed, but took it on the chin. 
Six thirds and unplaced in ten starts throughout those grand five years, 
His name was up there with the best who'd raced to great careers. 
  
Though sold to stud in New South Wales, Kia Ora down near Scone, 
Queenslanders all adopted him and saw him as their own. 
He'd put old Gundy on the map and right down to this day 
Gunsynd is still remembered as The Goondiwindi Grey. 



Details | Ballad | |

The Forgotten Ones

Forgotten somewhere in the midst of steel and concrete. 
Bound by shackles and chains even in our sleep. 
Living like wolves preying amongst lost sheep. 
Concrete tears and pains so mindfully deep. 

Forgotten by those on the outside. 
We cant even run no where, we cant even hide. 
No choice left but to sit and fight. 
In here only the strong minded survive. 
Truth be told in here what is wrong is right. 

All most os us got is wasted M&^*&F*^&&ng time. 
We sit back and work out and write heartfelt rhymes. 
Not to be a victim of prey we all trying. 
Many stories are told, songs are written of truth over lying. 

We are gone for the moment but not truly forgotten so the hurt we must not show it.
 We are to old while we young to be crying in front of full grown men for this is a time we must out grow it.
 There aint no way out this hell hole and we all know it. 
Feelings of hopelessness surrounds te heart to the point where we can no longer control it.
 
In here there is only time no fun. 
Darkness fills night no light shone in here from the sun. 
Only by our own selves we may be out done. 
BECAUSE IN HERE IT FEELS LIKE WE ARE TRULY THE FORGOTTEN ONES....


Details | Ballad | |

Antigone

I am the face of misery
My life, a dissonance of autumn and spring,
The years are written in the same
Lugubrious, nostalgic grey
How can it be the author to blame?
I cannot scream this all away…
Burn nor Bleed this all away…
To Death I am Ordained

Lacuna ever growing
With Velvet sheets of life flowing
Aeons apart of my "royalty"
Under the mask the cannot see...
Can you dispel this tragedy:
Antigone - Epiphany failing

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

No words of hope
No words of hate
Do I have Lenore to send to me:
The sordid child of Thebes
Caught In the longest nightmare
life - the slowest way to die

I know this is my life 
But I'm not under control
under the mask the will see
Just Another Human

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

Can you dispel my life; this tragedy?
Can you control the storm in my mind?
I'm asking you: can you rid me
Of The Curse of Antigone?


Details | Ballad | |

The Rebellion of '57

'''tis Power that rules men,not men-- When they but have misused That Power, to abduct their soul-- For It then stands abused.'' So at such time when Anguish With rage, had undone The bonds that with-held the blaze In hearts of everyone, To over-throw the unjust rule, There was an uprise; To win-over our Liberty, There was The Uprise...: A feeble Nation rose to fore, To fight the unjust Company, And India--She rose in uproar-- Indians rose to mutiny. With swords and shields, hearts of gold, A clan of Warriors rose, Against a mighty cannon-force, The Clan of Warriors rose. Here, wars were waged, There battles won, With valour-ridden thought; Then lives were lost in the field 'gainst the forces of distraught. The final picture was of Death-- Of the stabbed, the beaten and bruised, For against gun and mortar-bolt Sword and stick was used.....


Details | Ballad | |

THE WEARING OF THE GREEN

On Roman ruled British isle, to the deacon and his wife fair; 
On a beautiful morn, our Patrick was born, in a forth century lair 

Young and bright as a button; taken by knavish raiders - not fair
At tender age sixteen, long time not be seen, a dutiful slave to Eire

God spoke to devoted Patrick in a dream on this Emerald Isle
Boarded ship and set sail, in Britain to tell the tale; Gaul: priesthood and file
 
In 432, back to Eire to convert the pagans worshiping even a rock 
To explain the Holy Trinity, enlightening them till affinity, he used the shamrock

Pat inspired the Irish festival, history tells his colour was blue,
The wearing of the Green, even if one can't keen - Skyfest invites all parties true


Sung by a tone deaf (they all were) mistrel, tanked up on green beer
   
BALLAD METRE 

See the About section for details on which this poem was based. Thank you.

Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms:
This metre (BALLAD METRE) may also be interpreted (and sometimes printed) as a couplet of seven-stress lines, as in Kipling's ‘Ballad of East and West’ (1889):


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Deadman Wonderland

Now that you're becoming Undone It's time to have some fun In Deadman Wonderland Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao The setting Red Sun of Kali Shows it's time for your life to Pay We are the Kind to be feared -your friends We look like anyone you see Thuggee--Death's Devotees Face our treachery Bhowanee we must please She needs more--we have found our mark, our mark Won't you be the one to save humanity? Can't you see this is Deadman Wonderland Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao Sacrifice! For The Black-Skinned Queen Sacrifice! For Our Mother Kali Sacrifice! It's Not Enough Sacrifice! No Mercy! This is Deadman Wonderland Deadman Wonderland This is Deadman Wonderland Deadman Wonderland


Details | Ballad | |

In the Library of BMCC

Surrounded by heavy tomes 
Chronicling the history of 
   countless generations 
One can only feel a sense of 
    awe that the weight of 
the past has upon the living 
  A brief look around me 
allows me to see the coming generation 
   Working diligently 
to achieve their goals 
   What will become of these youth 
in the next few years?
Some may die fighting on foreign shores 
Otheres will die young due to bad habits 
Some may achieve great success 
  Picking up my pen 
I try to evoke the scene in the library 
of the Borough of Manhattan Community College 
Where many different 
     nationalities 
Merge into a quilt of hope!


Details | Ballad | |

PICCANINNY DAWN

The old man and his grandson viewed 
A barren bladeless ground. 
When to his left the young lad's eye 
Saw bleached bones scattered 'round. 
'Twas more than one beast's bones that lay 
There exposed to the sun. 
It seemed more like a battlefield 
Where only death had won. 
 
The old man saw the young lad wince, 
He reined in close behind. 
As memories of what took place 
Came flooding through his mind. 
A century turned, but not his luck, 
For rains had failed again. 
He slowly watched the dams dry up 
While cattle died in pain. 
 
A little water still remained 
Though sought by feral stock. 
Some brumbies which came down at dawn 
Still often used the block. 
In good times no one cared that much, 
But not so any more. 
The young lad's dad and this old man 
Both knew what lay in store. 
 
A high log fence closed off the dam, 
The timber they had sawn. 
Suspended gate it lay in wait 
For piccaninny dawn. 
Then as the last mare ambled through 
Wood gate it dropped like lead. 
A wood rail race seemed their escape, 
But death lurked there instead. Their capital had all dried up, 
No cash for lead and gun. 
To execute the feral stock 
Took knife and old man's son. 
With legs astride the wood rail race 
Son grimaced as he drew 
That blade of death 'cross jug'lar vein, 
Then slapped the victim through. 
 
Each fleet foot spirit faltered there 
A hundred yards away, 
While blazing eyes showed fear of death, 
Mouths gave a weakened neigh. 
Then one by one their weak frames fell 
Onto the dusty ground. 
The racing hearts of those poor beasts 
Then gave their final pound. 
 
The slaughter did not save the stock 
For all the dams went dry. 
It fin'ly broke the old man's son, 
He watched the grown man cry. 
All this the old man told the lad, 
The picture was now drawn. 
On why his dad then took his life 
One piccaninny dawn. 

The young lad then took from his head
his father's sweat stained hat
And as he wiped the tears away
He said, Gramps thanks for that."
I'd always had my doubts you see
About the way Dad died,
But now I know the truth at last
I'll wear this hat with pride.


Details | Ballad | |

AS MUCH AS I CAN, I WILL

I will laugh as loud as I can..
Laughter that comes within me..
Laughter that shakes even me..
Laughter that may end up to tears..

I will smile as wide as I can..
A smile showing evenly my teeth..
A smile that goes all thru my eyes and lips..
A smile that may melt and encourage you to smile..

I will sing as like a nightingale..
Hitting the high and low notes..
Dancing even in carefree..
Until, I own a space of mine..

I will care as much as I can..
Remembering that Caring is act of charity..
Putting into mind that life will be better..
Doing it now not tomorrow..

I will forgive as I much I can..
For God from heaven, forgives me too..
For this will keep peace into the world..
For this will end feud or war..

I will love as much as I can..
Bearing into mind that this what my God wants..
Showing unceasingly without asking for return..
Knowing this will tight the world's bound..

by: olive_eloi
9:45pm
12/11/2013
--------------------*****
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Cap'n and the Wench -part the fifth-

Cap'n & the Wench *part the fifth* Says the Wench to the Cap'n " We'll dabble in Real Estate!" So says the Cap'n to the Wench " 'Twould seem 'tis our Fate! As Tales are often Told from Time to Time & Again~ So doth it go twixt Wenches & those very Bold Men~ This Great Saga of the Cap'n & that Wench so Very Dear~ Had been begun then to continue Year after ever Year~ But all Sailors well know if'n they've oft Smartly Tacked~ Yer in Irons fer certain if'n yer Royals are Backed~ Makin' speed astern would allow such One chance to Box~ Mindin' Gales gone a'lee creatin' Naught but Fear~ Only a keen SeaWolf might again Sail as would the Fox~ All surely believin' his Great Ship could naught but Wear~ 'Twould be a course destined by Fate were the Helm hard a'Lee~ Maidens of the Depths gatherin' as Winds did'st now Howl~ Yet t'was a plot laid by SeaWolf as his heart Set him Free~ For Great Winds & Waves now did'st appear & Truly Growl~ From Deep Down under this Tormented Surface~ Came now to the ears of all Those now Enraged~ Softly with Empathy & Fanciful Purpose~ Silent Sounds heard well ~ all distinct Reason had Swayed~ Lee Rail's buried beneath Wind Torn Sea~ Gale a Howlin' thru the Riggin' & Spars~ From SeaWolf nary a word nor any Certain Plea~ His Eyes & that 'sprit a'fixed on Far Stars~ This Tale oft whispered in Taverns & Pits....... Ye'll hear it fer certain Bit by little Bit..... Pay Heed to Lessons Learned thus Herein..... 'Twere it to be Pleazure in life yer Truly to Win~ For Never Again Will Be Seen that Great Ship at Sea~ Only possibly for some who truly Set themselves Free~ In Dream Foggy Nights fiesty with Calm Swells~ Listen Well off in the distance for that Great Ships Bell! SeaWolf ©


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He Knows So Much

To haave a conwerstation,
is out of the question,
because he knows so much.

Forever by his self,
your love is on a shelf.
because he knows so much.

His every move he makes
you know what it will take
because he knew so much.

Just want to laugh and play.
have him listen to what you say,
No, because he knows so much.

Going out of my mind,
for just some quality time,
but, that is just too much.

So alone I sit,
without a word to fit,
because he knows so much.


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The sunyassin

As far as I know this is a true story about Alexandra the great...Peter



The Sannyasin.

Alexander said to Dandamis
"Old man you come with me
For I need me a sannyasin
To take across the seas.
Hey you be just a beggar man
I'll make you rich indeed
You'll live a life of luxury
With everything you need.

Dandamis standing naked there
With silence in his essence
He had no fear at all did he
In the mighty leaders presence.
He said "I'll give you nothing friend
And there's nothing that I need
So Alexandra drew his sword
Tried to make the beggar plead.

Dandamis laughed and said these words
With power in his voice
"You can put that sword right through my heart
My friend, that be your choice.
But I left this body long ago
I have no use for it
So pierce this heart my fine young friend
It won't harm me a bit.

Alexander he was beaten
By a fearless beggar man
Though he had won most of the world
Dandamis foiled his plans.
The beggar said "You say you're great
But that's not true at all
For any man that thinks he's great
He be merely a fool


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THE WEARING OF THE GREEN DETAILS

On Roman ruled British isles,
   On a sunny morn
Forth century on the day of Ides  
   Our Patrick was born
To the deacon and his wife fair; 
   A beautiful morn
And priest grandfather who care’
   Their Patrick was born

He, young and bright as a button 
   This could be clearly seen
Was Patrick the lad and glutton
   Tall for his age at sixteen 
 Taken as a slave to nearby Eire 
   At tender age sixteen
by knavish raiders – this not fair
    Long time not to be seen

God visited Patrick in a dream 
    On this Emerald Isle
 When revealed to him to stream
   Patrick broke rank and file
He boarded a ship and set sail 
    left this unwelcome isle
In Britain to tell all the tale
   Then Gaul - priesthood and file

In 432, back to Eire to convert them 
   A land green with shamrock
From their polytheism to stem
   Worshiping even a rock
To explain the Holy Trinity 
   He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
   They accepted *The Rock

To explain the Holy Trinity 
   He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
   They accepted The Rock
They are wearing the Green
They are wearing the Green...

*Rock of Ages

21 January 2013


BALLAD METER


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BESIDE EVERY GREAT WARRIOR OF OLD

Men were given total dominion
over all living things, and when
they subdued their enemy:
they were granted immortality!

Beside every great warrior of old, 
there was a strong woman of humility,
who gave him a victorious  sword;
and helped him change the course of history! 

Emperess Theodora was one of them to show adversity;
when Noka's revolt broke out:  she decided to stay,
while her hushand, Justinian, fled the city;
what an admirable act of feminity!

Beside every great warrior of old,
there seems to be a look of invincibility,
a defying moment to obtain glory;
and the cost for a golden crown is well-known!

Be the warrior of modern times, treatened by fear and fragility, 
seek out the man you were destined to be;
trust that woman who posseses internal beauty,
and beside this warrior, her courage will guide you with dignity!


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The Sea-Farers And The Sea

Flow! Flow! Flow!
Thou sea of silence
Carrying friends and foes
Alike.
The gentle sounds of 
Waves lapping thru the
Evening like a moving
Mountain.
 Blow! Blow! Blow!
Thou east wind,thy 
Tender hands caress our 
Gliding bark as we break 
Into the warm waters.
Look! The sun gazes at 
These sea-farers whose 
Quest we know not.
Far beyound the horizon
Lies treasures of untold 
Measures.


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GRANDAUGHTER

Big beautiful eyes that capture my heart
Dark brown like her mothers
Can't tell them apart
She talks up a storm of baby word sounds
And we all repeat them, astonished and proud
Her birthday is coming it's gonna be swell
Her parents are acting like children as well
They argue and fight and put her through hell
They think it won't damage her
She's too young to tell
That mommy and daddy don't fit like a glove
And she'll grow up and pick out the same man
to love. They'll fight and they'll argue in
front of their child and they won't
understand how now they're reviled.   
It started way back before she was one; so please stop
the cycle and look what you've done.   You're
repeating mistakes that your parents have
made.   No turning the clock back the bed has
been made.   Another generation is sleeping in it.



Copyright ©2000  Karen  M Feist


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Mousey

I love my Mousey,
She lives in a field in BrushCreek, Tennessee,
Walking with her her of cattle,
As happy as she will ever be.

Without this there would be only she,
And i could make her as happy as me,

I miss her immensly, for thee i wish well,
For everyday i wish she wont sell, 
And I could show her in the Dekalb County Fair,
I would sell never an ounce of her.
Hehe not even one of her little white hairs.

Even when all the way over there,
Mine she is for no one but me to share, if I do so happen to dare.

Cute as a button,
A button her nose may well be,
Where I first touched her sweet little body,
Not once but twice sweetly,
For wherever she goes I could spot her, along with her sister and mother.

Many a mile away, for she is not at all,
Not at all what you would say a little grayish thing.

But a heifer who grows daily,
Only to shove the motherly tears away.
In my eyes though, she will always be, forever and always, my baby girl, my sweetie,
my beautiful girl, my Mousey


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ghosts

yellow walls of the ceiling stained from the smoke most who inhailed are nolonger drinking in the same looking down from above or maybe up from below listen to the sound and still the smell of stained wood floor beer that soaked from history of the years the voices of the past for once this bar was filled with singing, screaming, fighting, now your all bared they never came back, ghosts in a empty is bar .


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Reviled Castaway

A mom tucked in her child one night In bliss he fell asleep Her horror grew at day’s first light She could not help but weep A changeling lay in her son’s place With wings, large hooves and tail She scorned the babe who sought embrace “Lord, curse the troll,” she wailed For in the night a being crept Through her New Jersey home A fiend was left as she had slept A gift from Satan’s gnome Her handsome son, such envy sparked Now resting in a troll’s domain The changeling’s face by Satan marked And love she could not feign This curse she felt was envy pure She could not bear its sight A hateful child she’d not endure Such scorn did he ignite To Mother Leeds this thirteenth child Became a castaway It flew into the pines reviled And to this day seeks prey
*Based on the legend of the New Jersey Devil. Changelings are infants that are replaced overnight by devilish imps from trolls or elves according to Irish legend. Entry for the “Creepy Irish Creatures” contest.


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PROGRESS

Like the folded petals and bud, I'll bloom and flower..
Like the worm, I'll change and I on metamorphosis...
Like a seed, I'll grow and bear fruit..

Like a baby crawl, little by little I'll stand...

Life is a constant continuous progress..
Even our age passes the time..

Time a nonstop reminder of events..
Mirror a reflection of unstoppable changes..

Yet, deeds and actions leaves irreplaceable  imprints..
Through even decades sprint...

by: olive_eloi
9:36pm
12/11/2013


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Steel Silk and Thunder

Steel Silk and Thunder

You ask me to condense this time, you say –
You ask how well I can squeeze and squander all
This day.
These thoughts are days and weeks full with moments
Stretched across the sky.
Yes,
I see this all too clearly, how your will is brought
About.
How unrelenting love can be; it drives the eyes
To see such fury – such wondrous spinnings in
The void; all one seeks chases now in folly;
This word appears again: Folly.
For foolish is the cover source of eye to shield.
All simple bleak remorse and cannon content
Bleeds within; a sleek sliver of truth confines me this
Moment; this baleful, primordial day’s mourning;
Oh, God I have loved thee so, I see you in the
Trees and skies, yet all slips through my hands
In measure; all is lost in fleeting pleasure – in
Movement, in matter of fuss and confusion; in
All I see amid horizons forming nothing, but 
This must be as it is this day –
I accept your dimly wrought decision.



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THE GARDEN

Thus the world was ruined, By the sin of a single man. A tiny twist in the story, Brought about a change in God’s plan. For out of the garden they were thrown With nothing but rags to cover themselves; But with wisdom so dangerous yet powerful That opened the gateway to hell.