Best Laine Poems
Hard to fathom what makes us tick
We're all unique as they say
One person loves rock and roll music
Another loves Sammy Kaye
Was always a true Glenn Miller fan
And big bands of the 40s and 50s
Vocalists like Sinatra and Como
And Frankie Laine was also nifty
WOW! Am I living in the past or what
With crinolines and saddle shoes
Terribly miss these much simpler times
Suffering from a case of the blues
Guess each generation misses their past
When things were a lot more fun
This roller coaster ride can get us down
Just enjoy your day in the sun
Must be realistic and accept the future
With all of it's scary unknowns
If you approach it with a great big smile
You'll wonder where the years have flown
© Jack Ellison 2015
I don’t like cats, really,
They scare away birds, pretty ****,
The robin, the blackbird so smart,
They think only of eating weaker than them,
That to jump the balls of innocent wool,
My garden had a sweet music yesterday,
Today it is quieter than a grave,
Cats scare away, nice birds,
They don’t see much further than their pretty nose,
Oh the caresses they expect, what false money,
Turn your back; they devour all your friends.
Je n’aime pas les chats, vraiment,
Ils font fuir les oiseaux, les jolies mésanges,
Les rouges gorges, les merles si intelligents,
Ils ne pensent qu’à manger plus faibles qu’eux,
Qu’à sauter les pelotes de laine innocentes,
Mon jardin avait hier une douce musique,
Aujourd’hui il est plus silencieux qu’une tombe,
Les chats font fuir, les gentils oiseaux,
Ils ne voient pas beaucoup plus loin que leur joli nez,
Ah les caresses qu’ils attendent, quelle fausse monnaie,
Tournez le dos, ils dévorent tous vos amis.
75 Words
Close by relation and
Distant by miles
Distance, dissonance descending
Deeper delivering doubt that
Seeps like a teabag you steep
Is the mountain as you stumble
Dirt crumbles under your feet
Is the measurement of
How far you fall when
You won’t see the hand waiting
To catch you because
Hidden truth is the same color
As a lie in wait
For words spoken
In a voice you have yet to create
Time for
Change.
?????~ Susan Laine
I reckon I'm showing my age and am pretty well set in my ways,
But I have zero tolerance for the 'noise' called music nowadays!
The metal bands and rap are loathsome to my sensitive ears.
I haven't heard a melodic tune on the radio for over sixty years!
Pleasing to the ear was Vaughn Monroe and his mellow baritone.
Likewise, the romantic, comprehensible crooning of Vic Damone.
A songster who could stir even the most unromantic soul,
Was the silky-smooth delivery of debonair Nat King Cole!
I truly enjoyed the ballads belted out by the ever-living Elvis,
And got a kick out of watching in action his double-jointed pelvis!
Delightful were the songs vocalized by cheerful Doris Day.
It was so relaxing listening to the Velvet Fog, Mister Mel Torme!
Will there ever be another Glenn Miller, Perry Como or Peggy Lee,
Dinah Shore, Frankie Laine or Jo Stafford entertaining me?
Oh, to hear again The Mills Brothers and their sweet harmony.
Now all I hear is dreadful screams and gross disharmony!
Today's drivel to my romantic soul gives me great offense.
'Tis alien to my ears and doesn't make a bit of sense.
Music back then invited you to hold your gal in close embrace,
As you danced and murmured sweet nothings face to face!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Entry for Nayda Ivette Negron's "Favorite Music Type" Contest
As Arkansas could never be Alaska,
so no-one wants Montana to be Maine.
Could North Dakota claim to be Nebraska?
Can Vachel Lindsay double for Hart Crane?
If Sing Sing isn’t Appalachian Spring,
and Justin Bieber can’t be Frankie Laine,
or William Burroughs isn’t Stephen King,
then Terminator Two’s not Citizen Kane.
If Fifty Shades is not The House of Usher,
and Ginsberg couldn’t write the Wayside Inn,
why should you think that China’s part of Russia,
or Kim Il Sung is also Ho Chi Minh?
Why should they be colluding, callous elves?
Why can’t they be as different as ourselves?
Tommy joined up in 1914
Though he was really too young
He was just seventeen
They gave him a uniform
They gave him a gun
They sent him to France to fight the Hun
Why he was fighting he wasn't sure
He was an innocent victim
Of a terrible war
He stood in a trench in water and mud
He watched as his comrades
Gave their life blood
His friend Johnny Laine stood at his side
A snipers bullet hit home
And young Johnny died
His tunic was splattered with Johnny's blood
Tommy's eyes filled with tears
As he lay in the mud
Tommy looked up to Heaven and angrily swore
That never again
Would he go to war
Just six months later his promise came true
As a snipers bullet
Pierced him right through
As he lay dying on that cruel day
This brave young man
Was heard to say
Johnny I'm coming we'll be together again
Far away from the trenches
Far away from the rain
So Johnny and Tommy are together once more
Where no bullets are flying
Where there is no war
So like Tommy lets swear as he did before
Never again
Will we go to war
Timmy blew some bubbles and he watched them Pop! Pop! Pop!
But one went higher than the trees and right over the top
That one big bubble floated high as though it couldn’t stop
And just before it reached the sky it then began to drop
Timmy stood and marvelled at the colours in its skin
How could skin so very thin have all those colours in
It came down low and bounced right off a nearby wheelie bin
To land on Timmy’s shoulder and that really made him grin
For Timmy’s at a new school so he walks alone today
He hasn’t any friends with whom to talk along the way
The bubble on his shoulder sat as though it wants to play
And still the bubble didn’t pop which brightened up his day
Now when nobody talks to you it’s easy to pretend
So Timmy just imagined that he had a bubble friend
He hoped the bubble wouldn’t pop for school’s just round the bend
And no more would he sit alone and wait for school to end
He walked into his morning class and Suzie Laine was there
She was very pretty and had very lovely hair
She said I like your bubble, I don’t know if you’re aware
This desk isn’t taken, why don’t you pull up a chair
The bubble on his shoulder did a funny little hop
It landed on his desk and and made a funny little ‘Plop!’
He and Suzie giggled as it hopped and didn’t stop
But can a bubble smile?
This one did
and then went Pop!
Hard to fathom what makes us tick
We're all unique as they say
One person loves rock and roll music
Another loves Sammy Kaye
Was always a true Glenn Miller fan
And big bands of the 40s and 50s
Vocalists like Sinatra and Como
And Frankie Laine was also nifty
Boy! Am I living back in the past
With crinolines and saddle shoes
Terribly miss the much simpler times
Suffering from a case of the blues
Guess each generation misses their past
When things were a lot more fun
This roller coaster ride can get us down
Just enjoy your day in the sun
Must be realistic and accept the future
With all of it's scary unknowns
If you approach it with a great big smile
You'll wonder where the years have flown
© Jack Ellison 2013
hail yee not my empty butterfly
for thy heart yet not to die
i chose yee being alike
in some sort of way
not all the day
thou art thy pain suffering rain
on feathers flying of solitude laine
how art thy note and fled to boat
no love no vain no notice
why now shall i blame
for what once was a game
With her pet toy in hand and playing,
In mother’s lap, a strange smile lurking,
To her lullaby whilst listening,
Eyes on Ma, at last succumbs to sleep,
Here’s happiness for me sound asleep.
Their heavy school bags left way aside,
Uniforms too thrown on whatso side,
Back from bunking class, leave un-applied,
Bare bodied when children dance in rain,
Here’s happiness for me sans restrain.
Dreams and young desires dancing in mind,
Two teenagers in tender love blind,
At the appointed place do when find
And haply together smile their smiles,
Here’s happiness to me that beguiles.
Dawns a day, and Ma wakes up early,
Finds the house bare and rather lonely,
And lo, the door-bell rings suddenly,
Her daughter and kids hug her in glee,
Here is crest of happiness to me.
One eve, the sun prepares when to pack,
I see grandpa— nigh bent at the back,
Nostalgic, playing old songs from rack
When breaks into dance that transcends age,
That’s happiness to me freed from cage.
______________________________________________
Based on a Gujarati poem by Shyamal Munshi, titled:
mane to sukh eman dekhaya, transliteration as follows:
ek ramakdun lai mana-gamatun,
mana khole hasatun ramatun,
mithan halardan sambhaltun,
mani same jotun balak unghi jaye,
mane to sukh eman dekhaye.
bhar bharelan daftar khakhi,
ek divas khunaman nakhi,
ninshal man pan chutti rakhi,
bhai-bandho sau thai ughada bhar varshaman nhaye,
mane to sukh eman dekhaye.
ichao laine ubheli,
ek chokari preme gheli,
nishchit sthane pahonchi vaheli,
premi ne jotan ni sathe acherun malakaye,
mane to sukh eman dekhaye.
ek divas ma vaheli jage,
ghar khali-kham sunun lage,
ghar no bel achanak vage,
‘ne bachhane lai dikari malava avi jaye,
mane to sukh eman dekhaye.
chho kede thi hoy valela,
ek sanj ni dubati vela,
dada sahu mitroni bhela,
juni filmo yad kari ne junan gito gaye,
mane to sukh eman dekhaye.
______________________________________________
Translations | 02.01.14 |
Oh, my sweet Soup sweethearts,
So much love you send my way.
How much more can a man ask for?
Sharon, Christy, Rhoda, Catie,
Farah, Renee,Sweet Ruby, Sue,
Patricia, Sandra, Carol,Karen,
Heidie, Elaine,Teressa, Trix,
Caryl, Vernette, Julie, Anita,
Bella, Laine, Susan Cousins,
Karen O'Leary, Melainie Ross,
Patricia Contreras, Judith, Bella,
Louise, Crystal, Melanie,Alexa
and all other of my poetic vixens,
wiser than men in many ways,
I love you all!!
Oh, can I run with this one....I better be careful!!!.....
Soup to nuts,
When I spilt the bowl,
You could hear me yell,
From the lower parts of hell,
I screamed "There's a soup
In my fly!!!"
Oh me, oh my.....
Give me first aid,
Before my sperm start to fade,
And if the truth you hide,
I will swear you lied,
Cause the truth is plain,
That your soup did maim,
My manhood right to claim,
I walk out of here,
but it's very clear...
This restaurant you own,
Will soon enough pay your loan,
for damages to me,
Which you'll never see!!
for Rene', Shar, Rhoda, Jack Reed,
Christy, Ruby, Laine, Cile, Joe, Karen,
Vernette,Kim,Teresa,Patricia,John,
Danielle,John,Charles,Vince,Wilfredo,
Michael,Orma,Caryl,Brian,Rhea,Jessica,
and all the wonderful poets who make "The Soup"
the delicacy, the gourmet mind treat, the spirit
reviver, the place to have fun...the place to BELONG!!!!!
I love you all,- you have greatly enriched my life,
annnnnd spark whatever creativity I can muster...
God Bless........
How beautiful and discreet, this port, at night,
When you listen to fado, come that voice, Misia
It becomes deep and mysterious, sonorous,
Its numerous lights are warm as wool.
How enchanting this port, at night, o night
Between the sea and the starry sky that sleeps,
Its illiterate cranes are so stupid, yes,
Yet they really know the pain of the world,
How beautiful, so quiet on the horizon, this port,
When listening to fado, O Misia, my queen,
We want to love you like Lisbon or Porto, now
I understand Rimbaud abandoning poetry.
Qu’il est beau et discret, ce port, la nuit,
Quand vous écoutez du fado, cette voix, Misia
Il devient profond et mystérieux, sonore,
Ses lumières sont chaudes comme la laine.
Qu’il est enchanteur ce port, la nuit, O nuit
Entre la mer et le ciel étoilé qui dort,
Ses grues analphabètes sont si bêtes, oui,
Elles savent pourtant la douleur du monde,
Qu’il est beau, si calme sur l’horizon, ce port,
Quand on écoute du fado, O Misia, ma reine,
On veut t’aimer comme Lisbonne ou Porto, Enfin,
Je comprends Rimbaud qui abandonne la poésie.
In the midst of the storm, when the world's cold and gray,
Her beacon of light brightens my day.
A friendship of kindness she shares every way,
Her heartbeat of joy reflects our sun’s rays.
A melody's silence, a calm in the storm,
Her comforting presence, energetic & warm.
In the darkest of night, she's my guiding star,
I get lost in her thoughts as light shines from afar.
Her smile, lit sunshine, as my solace remains,
A joy that stays hopeful as kindness attained.
I hope you’re aware as my eyes gaze through your stare,
Your precious reflection is unrequitedly rare.
Through the highs and the lows, the joy and the pain,
She's joy made from sunshine after each rain.
With a friendship so pure & free from life’s strain,
I pray she remains my gifted friend, Laine.
Your rainbow sky lights above colorful rain,
The strength that sustains when all efforts wane.
With a bond oh so rare & a complexion of care,
Her precious friendship is beautifully rare.
So here's to Laine, a friend I hold dear,
A bond unbroken year after year.
May our friendship endure through thunder & pain,
Pulsating in sunshine , forever unchained.
On the tides of words,
The eyes too light,
In the running of zebras,
I’m looking for it,
Under the wool, night dreams,
On the precious jewels,
The faces without worries,
I’m still looking for it,
On the torn heart,
By the Mayan treasures,
On the sleeping sun,
I’m looking for it,
In my nervous city,
In the fields of olive trees,
On the softened glass,
I’m looking for it,
In the bed of sources,
On the stopped trains,
On the docile clocks,
In the riddles of heaven,
I find it,
The happiness you’re running from.
Sur les marées de mots,
Les yeux trop légers,
Dans la course des zèbres,
Je le cherche,
Sous la laine, rêves nocturnes,
Sur les bijoux précieux,
Les visages sans soucis,
Je le cherche encore,
Sur le cœur arraché,
Par les trésors mayas,
Sur le soleil qui dort,
Je le cherche,
Dans ma ville nerveuse,
Dans les champs d’oliviers,
Sur le verre adouci,
Je le cherche,
Dans le lit des sources,
Dans les trains arrêtés,
Sur les horloges dociles,
Dans les énigmes du ciel,,
Je le trouve,
Le bonheur que vous fuyez.