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Best Poems Written by Louis Spence

Below are the all-time best Louis Spence poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Louis Spence Poem

CRY NO MORE

I was lost, I was found, I was hunted, I was downed , 
Heard the screams of the whale when the harpoon has hit 
Seen the burned out congregations when the fuses were lit 
All the fury in war's faces and we're sick to death of it... 
 
I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse the mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

We've been taken, We've been used, We've been shaken, We''ve been bruised 
Felt that look of despair in the infant's eye 
At the wrench of departure in the bittersweet goodbye 
All this cruelty in mankind just makes me want to fly 

I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse the mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

I was blinkered, I was blind to human conduct so unkind
Seen rich lunatics shooting all the birds in the sky 
The crating up of dogs sentenced needlessly to die 
Drowned babies on some shoreline and we sit and wonder why. 

I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse my mind 
We have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

We can dream we may see better times for you and me 
Somewhere warm somewhere loving where we all live happily
In a place where our spirits and joyful hearts run free 
And we all pull together for peace, humanity... 

I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse my mind 
We have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more.

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SEE AND HEAR ME SING THIS ON 
YouTube: Louis Spence. Cry No More. Thank you.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

POETS

Blake was chosen keeper,
For careful hands had he  
Yeats the classic sweeper
And Keats at number three 
  
Whitman wore the five shirt 
With Masefield to his right  
Thus they had a back line 
Of energy and might  

Rimbaud had been brought in 
At quite enormous cost 
To complement the midfield 
Of Byron, Burns and Frost 
 
Up front two boyhood heroes 
Whom I revere today  
The tortured Wilfred Owen, 
The brilliant Thomas Gray  

And so it became clear to me  
When first I entered Heaven 
That I would have to go somewhat  
To make the First Eleven.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

ARTIST

My loved one is an artist 
His spirit now runs free 
And though he paints in Paradise 
He's ever here by me  
And I can see the pictures 
Of mountains, lakes and trees 
The brushstrokes of a loving life 
They come as memories 

And I can feel the colours 
So vivid still, so clear 
And I can touch the passion
Of one we loved so dear 
For he is still beside me 
As on our wedding day 
Painting dreams in Paradise 
And just a thought away. 

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Written about an artistic friend of mine who passed away far too early.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

WILD SEA

In the heart of some dark English city 
Came a sight that turned everyone's head 
When as if from some dream came a wonderful team 
In a wild sea of Boro Red. 

Through all of my life it's been with me 
All the fears, all the tears that I've bled 
It wont run it wont yield it's my comfort and shield 
This wild sea of Boro Red  

  Now this is a beautiful color 
  When I've worn it I've laughed and I've cried 
  It was hewn from the iron men of legend 
  And its run through with passion and pride  

And now my Red Lion days are closing 
As I lie on my funeral bed 
I can see once again all those magical men 
In a wild sea of Boro Red. 

Sorrow soon be gone, glory fill my eyes 
Boro I was born and Boro I will die 
Never stopped believing, I kept my spirits high 
Boro I was born and Boro I will die.

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Hear me sing this on youtube. 
Google Boro Red. Louis Spence. 

Thanks for reading.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

LITTLE ONE

Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry 
Some days I live, some days I die 
Sometimes I stand tall, sometimes I crawl 
Then I pace the floor, then I pound the wall. 
Give me relief from the towering grief 
The harrowing pain when we speak your name 
Oh how we miss you, how we miss you, how we miss you, 
Little One.  

Some days I'm weak, seldom am I strong 
Some days I wonder is it worth going on 
Some days it hits you and some days it's me 
Some days we're drowning in a merciless sea. 
Give me belief from the towering grief 
The harrowing pain when we speak your name 
Oh how we miss you, how we miss you, how we miss you, 
Little One.  

It would take a lifetime and then some, I know 
To talk of all the things we miss 
And you could have that lifetime and all I have to show 
For one more goodnight kiss. 
How could it come to this?

Where do we go, what do we do 
When all of our dreams were centered on you 
We're living out the heartache in dark misery 
The photographs of you the way you used to be
Give me relief from the towering grief 
The harrowing pain whispering your name
Oh how we miss you, how we miss you, how we miss you, 
Little One. 

(Written as a tribute to the baby born to my parents who died at just 6 months. Years before I was born but never forgotten now)

HEAR THIS SUNG IN CONCERT ON YOUTUBE- LITTLE ONE. LOUIS SPENCE  

HEAR ME SING THIS. GOOGLE 'AMERICANA GUISBOROUGH 15th APRIL 2014'. 

THANK YOU.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

EVA CASSIDY

Miss Sunshine was her sobriquet, and she the golden child 
All through her happy infant days she wore that winning smile 
She loved the colors nature gave, but sensitive and shy 
She suffered from the thoughtlessness of some at junior high.  

So music was her salvation, she practiced all the while 
And breathed new life into sad songs with unique wondrous style 
And harmony came naturally, in shades of dark and light 
As with her paintings and her song she kept her spirit bright. 

    In the Valley of the Nightingales, by peaceful waters there 
    That sylvan voice of honeyed cream still dances in the air 
    Gifted by the shooting star with heart and mind so pure 
    The softly spoken blue chanteuse too fragile to endure. 

Then morphine -laced to ease her pain and lifted to her chair
She sang out What A Wonderful World and left pure magic there
Adored by friends and family, her last performed goodbye 
She graced the notes with perfect pitch and heard her angels cry. 

She never got that little house, dreamed of, by ocean's roar 
She never sang out to the seas from treasured golden shore 
The brigade choir out of sight down some yellow brick road 
Sings with Eva clothed in white, in Toto's fields of gold. 

    In the Valley of the Nightingales, by peaceful waters there 
    That sylvan voice of honeyed cream still dances in the air 
    Gifted by the shooting star with heart and mind so pure 
    The softly spoken blue chanteuse too fragile to endure. 

INSPIRED BY FACTS FROM THE BOOK - EVA CASSIDY- SONGBIRD

HEAR ME SING THIS IN CONCERT.

ON YOUTUBE -  VALLEY OF THE NIGHTINGALES, LOUIS SPENCE 

THANK YOU.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

BOOTS

Boots across his shoulders, striding through the park 
Bright young man of 20, out to make his mark 
On his way to Ayresome, living out the dream 
Playing centre forward for his hometown football team 
And yeah, I was there. 

Goals were this lad's business, poaching was his game 
Scoring by the dozen, on his way to fame 
Stealing all the headlines, stirring up the crowd 
Mixing it with hard men, bloody but unbowed 
And yeah, I was there. 

  Never ducked a tackle, never jacked it in, 
  Never stopped competing till a draw became a win 
  Always put his head there, always had a go 
  Always 90 minutes and he always stole the show 

Looking back in wonder, deep down memory lane 
Matchdays in the Holgate, sunshine through the rain 
Five fantastic seasons, never quite enough 
The legend in my lifetime that was Boro's Brian Clough 
And yeah, I was there 

Oh yeah....... I was there. 



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

Thank you for reading this. 

WATCH ME SING THIS IN CONCERT  ON YOUTUBE, 'BOOTS - LOUIS SPENCE' THANK YOU.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

ROSIE

She stands beautiful, pride in the sky 
The first lady of my countryside 
Watching over both town and tide 
I'm gonna climb her one more time before I die.  

Cast my ashes way up there 
High into the Cleveland air 
One hard morning still and fair off Rosie  
Watch them come driftin' down 
Settled now on hallowed ground 
Home at last, safe and sound on Rosie 

Madly mystical in Summer's glow 
Autumn colours enhance her so 
The Winter maiden decked out in snow 
Flowers in Spring begin again her wonder show 

Cast my ashes way up there 
High into the Cleveland air 
One hard morning still and fair off Rosie 
Watch them come a-driftin' down 
Settled now on hallowed ground 
Home at last, safe and sound on Rosie. 

In a graveyard not far from her 
Stands a gravestone cherished with care 
The last haven my parents share 
Maybe my dust in the north wind's gust will carry there. 


Cast my ashes way up there 
High into the Cleveland air 
One hard morning still and fair off Rosie 
Watch them come a-driftin' down 
Settled now on hallowed ground 
Home at last, safe and sound on Rosie.

 HEAR ME SING THIS IN CONCERT ON YOUTUBE: Louis Spence. Rosie Song.  
 ROSIE is the common local name for Roseberry Topping, a hill of 1000 
height which dominates our local landscape
THANK YOU

Details | Louis Spence Poem

PARASITE

Aint nothing in life so weak and parasitic 
As the smug self-delusional heckling critic 
Full of repressed envy with a manner most vile 
He slithers to his seat to vent his acrid bile 
Bereft of any talent to do anything himself 
Can't wait to put the boot into everybody else 
Can't act, can't dance, can't sing, can't play 
Doesn't have the jizz to get up on stage anyway 
Sad man, sad man, silly little sad man. 

Really rates himself as a man who knows his stuff 
Mouthing well-used insults (too dumb for off-the-cuff) 
When you're up there playing he'll inevitably try 
To portray mock disdain if you ever catch his eye 
So pay no mind to this impotent imbecile 
Who follows his calling with unrelenting zeal 
No wit, no style, no clout, no class 
The turgid remains of a charisma bypass 
Sad man, sad man, pity for the sad man. 

     Like a keyboard warrior, an internet troll
     Loves it when his barbs hit an unsuspecting goal 
     And if you ever flinch, he's got you mind and soul
    Thinks this master of the moment the ninja in control

Next time I'm performing I pray that he will show 
I'll come on all guns blazing, and hope he has a go 
This piteous mug who'll dismiss me with a sneer 
Chuckling with his cronies at how bad I've been up here 
On social media you can bet he'll go to town 
Spewing forth his venom as he tries to put me down 
No joy, no smile, no love, no praise 
A pitiful indictment of his hollow darklit days. 
Sad man, sad man, silly little  sad man.

Details | Louis Spence Poem

A WORD WITH WILF

Were yer looking down, Wilf, were yer with me Dad 
Sitting with John Widdowfield and Harry, his brave lad 
Weren't the fans terrific, did you hear them roar 
Didn't Boro start well and what a time to score. 

What about them boots now, that stadium 'n all 
Would have been amazing to see you with that ball 
Just to watch Juninho must've made you grin 
I bet you had a chuckle when that penalty went in. 

Hope it made you smile, Wilf,  I hope it made your day 
And every other Boro fan not here with us today 
I saw you play at Ayresome in 1953 
Me Dad stood on the Holgate and he got me in for free 

I met you just before you died, in the café on Marske stray 
We talked about the old times, yer made me laugh that day. 
I drank with Stevie Gibson the night the cup was won 
And through the tears and endless beers I said how well he'd done 

I told him that we loved him, the way me Dad loved you 
He said, Look I'm no different, just Boro through and through.
Next time I pass your statue, I'll linger for a while 
And if I look real closely, I know I'll see you smile. 

It's been a long old time, Wilf, but didn't they do us proud 
The chairman and the manager, the players and the crowd 
It's been a long old time, Wilf, at last we've done  things right 
We've gone through that great darkness and come into the light. 

Night night, Wilf, night night. 
                              
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Read the wiki on Wilf Mannion, Superstar. Thank you.