Long Town Poems
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I'm a Piketown son who left his mum
To sail the eastern shores
Spent a year in Gloucester
'mong the barkeeps and the whores
Then a man came 'round to Gloucester town
Said boys I need a few
Strapping lads such as yourselves
To join me whalin' crew
The pay is mighty lowly and
The work'll break yer backs
But if ye crave adventure, men
You'll ne'er get a better chance
Those who'd go out wi' me, lads
Prepare ta leave at dawn
There's a whaler at the dockside
She's called the Dreadful Mourn
Ho! Called I to Captain Frye
My services you've bought
I've traveled here from Piketown
To earn a tale heart'ly wrought
Aye, me lad then ye shall have
A yarn ta spin yer sons
So join me on the Dreadful Mourn
'Ere long's the risin' sun
I nodded Aye to Captain Frye
Then turned to swig my ale
When a man appeared beside me
And pulled up to the rail
He shook his head and then he said
His offer you should spurn
There was another Frye set out
Yet ne'er did he return
This other Frye for he was kin
Of the Captain now about
That fortune on their family frowns
Of that there is no doubt
I turned to the stranger, smiled
Said thank you for the warn
Then headed down the gangway
Out to the Dreadful Mourn
For weeks on end I coiled the ropes
Boiled the oil and pulled the line
Though it was grueling labor
I was feelin' pretty fine
But the winds they soon blew colder
And the ship began to slow
The Captain said don't worry men,
This is how the whales go
One day the ice so thickened that
The ship came to a stop
The Captain cried a wild whoop
Boys I think I've found the spot!
For 'twas about this latitude
Where me brother's ship was lost
And now I've come ta bring him home
No matter what the cost!
Sorry I lied ta ye lads
I blame ye not for yer ire
Now calm ye selves, we've work ta do
Afore we can retire
Of course you know we would not go
Along with his plan
The crew decided mutiny
Right down to the last man
For Captain Frye's madness
We must pay an awful price
But he would join his brother
As a ghost beneath the ice
The ship was stuck, the stores near out
'Twas nothing left to do
'Cept sing a sailin' shanty
And toast the Dreadful crew
So I took a final dram of rum,
Cursed the day that I was born
And lay down to my icy fate
Aboard the Dreadful Mourn
June 24, 2017
Now the public library in our town contains the knowledge for mankind,
and there’s not much happening ‘round the world, that I cannot find.
I can think of any subject that I like and tell Jenny what I’m after,
and she can find a stack of books that darn near touch the rafter.
The library’s helped me countless times from days when I’m at school,
and I’ve become a handy man with books my back up tool,
but aside from books on lifestyle needs, on fiction some are geared,
and some authors write for little kids, and some write on the weird.
I’ve hired books about our history and read about some shocking wars.
Our garden is designed from books, and I’m obsessed with reading ‘Jaws’.
But crime became my new desire with cases filed from years gone by,
where Capital Punishment was handed down and why some had to die.
Description of the victims sent a chill right through my bones,
right to the guilty on death row with all their over-tones.
I read about their last few weeks, with how and why and where,
before they took their final walk to the electric chair.
One story written by a Warder based in a Southern US gaol,
is penned about a chilling case that for you I will unveil …
Leroy murdered seven folk; the warder wrote down in this book.
For twenty years appeals were held then Leroy’s goose was cooked.
When you’re with someone for twenty years, no matter what they’ve done,
you can form a slight attachment even if a fragile one.
So one week before that final stroll Leroy was asked by Warder Black,
if there’s something special that he’d like, and Leroy answered back.
“There is something I do desire - but it must involve me faithful wife.
“My wish is” Leroy grinned. “Is to eat her meatloaf now for life”.
Well Leroy’s wish was granted and for three meals every day,
he ate the meatloaf that he begged for while the hours ticked away.
On the eve of Leroy’s execution there was tension being shown.
The corridors were creepy now with a ghostly eerie tone.
Forgotten were the seven victims - in the morning there’s one more.
Leroy must face ‘old sparky’ waiting down that corridor.
His final meal of meatloaf was brought before him on a plate.
Said Warder Black with teary eyes “You don’t look worried mate!”
Leroy laughed “I’m not my friend, that chair won’t kill me man.
If this meatloaf couldn’t do me in - I know that nothing can!”
My son had come back home to stay for just a little while.
He brought with him his terrier friend; a lively, puppy child.
The skinny, little half grown dog came bounding through my door.
I couldn’t realize at the time, all he’d become . . and more.
For sure he tipped the apple cart when first he entered in.
His lively spirit made me think, I’d not know peace again.
The walks with my old terrier dog were all that I could want.
Soon slow and steady, calm, serene, became a grueling jaunt.
Old dog sniffed each bush and tree, as young dog plunged ahead.
While I was pulled this way and that and mostly seeing red.
And God forbid another dog come ambling on our way;
My stress filled walk would soon become, an all out frenzied fray.
He plagued the cats, barked at the door: he loved to sit and howl.
While I just tore my hair out: yet I found that all this while;
He simply grew to grow on me despite his naughty ways.
And as the time began to pass we had some better days.
While in his quiet moments; he just loved my generous lap.
Liked to have his belly rubbed: lay with me for a nap.
He liked to give wet kisses, till I had to tell him, “No."
Loved the car: turned inside out, whenever I said “Go”.
My son moved on, as sons will do, endeavoring to be free.
And by this time we both agreed; young dog should stay with me.
And when old dog forsook my side, because God said he must;
I found the young dog next to me gave all his love and trust.
He stayed beside me night and day and never asked to leave.
He seemed to sense I needed him, along with time to grieve.
I then began to understand what a nice dog lived with me,
For in the old dog’s shadow; he’d become all he could be!
But fate became unkind to us and time was not his friend.
The young dog only stayed awhile, then moved on once again.
And this time I was all alone, with no friend by my side.
My days were filled with missing him, while nights I'd lay and cry.
I know they are together now, in a place God made for them:
These happy creatures sent to earth to be my loyal friends.
I know their spirits run and play; nevermore will they know pain.
Because of this, despite my grief; I’d not wish them back again.
But I’ll remember each of them, through all my days that pass.
It's really hard for me to say, whose loved first and whose loved last?
© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
...He walked up and kissed her head so softly,
then said, “Good news, I’m off for the next few weeks.”
She said, “Mmm…and I’m betting that you’re are
thinking of all that you will do to me.”
He smirked, and said,”Well it has crossed my mind.”
She said, “I must work, but we will make the time…”
And they did enjoy that time together,
they went to dinner, took walks, and made love,
Cormack so enjoyed these little reprieves
from his chosen life, so brutal and rough.
Some days he thought it very hard to beat
lazing on the couch and rubbing her feet.
But good times are good because they can’t last,
eventually a new call did come in,
he told Christie he had to go away
for a sales trip, he shared no details grim.
She said, “It’s fine, I must travel as well,
to visit my brother, who’s going through hell.”
They said their goodbyes, Cormack went to work,
the patriarch’s gave him a new target,
a serial killer near Topeka,
“We’re not sure, but we think he’s a good bet.”
They told him as they slipped him a file,
he frowned, thinking this might take a while.
The drive took two days, but Cormack got there,
in a rented house he set up his gear,
see Nephilim left some strange energy
at any location where they appeared.
An electric charge from their angel kin,
unique to their kind, so Cormack did begin.
This was the boring part of the hunting,
walking the streets with a heavy backpack,
inside a device reading the energy,
hoping to pick up residual tracks.
He started near the sites of the fell crimes,
traces of a Nephilim he soon did find.
For days he looked for patterns in the readings,
using the data to triangulate,
narrowed it down to a three block circle,
armed himself and went to investigate.
The device went wild as he drew near,
he wondered if two Nephilim were here.
He heard a commotion from a warehouse,
not uncommon in a bad part of town,
he heard an angel voice and painful moan,
and knew something awful was going down.
He slipped inside and heard a voice proclaim,
“When the hunter shows up, you’ll get the blame!”
Cormack stepped out and lifted his pistol,
he said, “Or I’ll just kill you both here and now.”
The bigger man jolted as he appeared,
then his eyes glowed, and he bellowed out loud.
He then then himself into a mad charge,
but Cormack’s gun spoke before he got far...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
When I looked in to her eyes,
In it I saw a prospect of a paradise.
A paradise whose entry was not
contingent on my righteousness.
My days of startling agony, still battled my
hope of finding true love.
Like the Battle of Armageddon,
I always came out a looser.
But meeting her... yea the Vault of Heaven,
was like proximal to the Book of Leaves.
Her countenance and demeanor,
whispered melodic symphonies.
And her meekness and charm,
transited me into a world of ecstasy.
Covered In fine linen and sapphire,
she glowed than a continuous spectrum.
Her beauty was an Achilles hill,
that all men that saw her failed to vanquish.
Just like my maiden father Adam,
In her I saw the hidden part of me.
As a woman, as one I will be spending my life with.
I have never felt this conflagration before,
It was apparent she was my dream woman.
What can be compared to the taste of crimson honey,
The more it reddened the more it sweetened.
I have never loved like this before.
For her I was willing to exchange my soul,
To be with her till eternity.
But cunningly she unmasks her real face.
Beneath her could not be compared to an iota of grace.
She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Who entered my life to distort and annihilate,
My hope of bliss.
All these while we paddled and flew high,
In the crescendo of our emotions.
It never crossed my mind that it was all a hoax.
A calculated sham just to make away with all I ever had.
Now am left with nothing,
Since her angelic face and docile pace,
Which I thought was the elixir my unending conundrum,
Was rather an emotional and psychological torture,
That has rendered my life defunct.
When I imagine her driving around town,
Adorned in my hard earned luxury,
There is only one moment I wish ,
I could re-write.
And that was the day I met her.
I always tell myself that sometimes,
It is better some people don’t come into your life.
But here I am know,
Wishing to right my wrongs and alter the past.
But it is so sad that I cannot have my way.
I know in the annals of time,
When my saga is being told,
I will be know as the moron,
Who killed himself because of a girl.
Though it may sound and look stupid,
I deem it a befitting penance,
For my obsessed illusion of love,
Thus love is an illusion that,
Emotionally disrupt sober discretion.
What can be compared to the stench of a broken heart.
...His starting point, after much hustling,
was a diner at the edge of the town,
the man who had once built massive bridges
now spent his days at work frying hash browns.
Working for a pittance, day after day,
the only place that would dare give him pay.
About three months into doing such work,
just after the breakfast rush was complete,
he saw a woman enter the diner,
with two young boys, she looked about forty.
Time had done little to Alan’s ex-wife,
Whitney was a queen, hallowed in his sight.
He tried to hide, but Whitney caught a glimpse,
a flabbergasted look clear on her face,
but he made no move to go talk with her,
and she had two kids, could not leave her place.
His heart pounded until Whitney had left,
seeing her moved over felt much worse than death.
She had proclaimed that she would stand with him
when the accusations first had been made,
but the media had taken its toll,
he had watched her resolve drain, day by day,
until the day that the verdict had come,
when he’d been locked up, then it had been done.
She’d started divorce, he didn’t contest,
it was something he could not do to her,
she’d wanted children, normal existence,
all the things that a good woman deserved.
With him in prison, that would be denied,
so he’d signed the papers, and said goodbye.
It had been simple, before he’d been freed,
when he had not had a reason to hope,
now, seeing her, with some other man’s kids,
seemed beyond his ability to cope,
a wound that wouldn’t heal, slowly bleeding,
making him question the point of being.
But the next day, when his shift was over,
and he was walking slowly for the bus,
he saw a G-wagon, and his Whitney,
and his heart started racing then because
there were no kids there, no shield she could use,
confronting this was what he could not do.
But she came forwards, her face fresh with tears,
struggling hard to keep herself composed,
until she broke down, and embraced Alan,
saying, “I’m sorry…how-how could I know?
I’m not sure how to deal with this because
I don’t know why she would do this to us!
“Now I’m left looking at a man I love,
that I abandoned, I’m ashamed it’s true…
We were so happy, but now all I see
is all the things that I’ve taken from you.
The life you deserved, that I thought we’d build,
her lies and my weakness…it’s all been killed.”
CONTINUES IN PART III.
He was not green not green at all
Trim and slim he was rather tall
His skin was more of a reddish-brown
His hair was pitch black with a pointed crown
Pleasant enough of a fellow I suppose
We notice each foot had just three toes
His hands were large and his fingers long
He was nice and pleasing but just did not belong
His voice was high pitch but sounded soft
The dust in the air made him sneeze and cough
His body seemed smooth no hair on sight
He enjoyed the shade and avoided direct sunlight
Large oval emerald embers of purest sight
His eyes had transparent lenses that for him seem right
If he looked at you and blinked his lens then eyes
You stood staring back hypnotize strangely paralyzed
His stomach was flat with the belly button gone
To us earth kids that was just plain wrong
His legs were long and skinny and seem to shine
We thought his skin secreted a secret slim
He was nice enough and always learned fast
Academically he surged to the head of the class
He excelled in computers science and math
When he smiled the girls blushed the boys laughed
He tried to be friendly but would not play outside
His tiny nose always in a book he became ostracize
Always helping teachers he became their favorite pet
When we saw his tail he was dubbed Martian Rat
His ears were almost nonexistent but hearing keen
He heard our thoughts he knew everything
We plotted to get him outside and whip his butt
But he knew our every move so we finally gave up
Slowly but surely we all came around
And he became the most popular boy in town
He told tales of heroes slaying dragons of Mars
He told journeys and dreams beyond the stars
He never liked winter hated the snow
The poor boy just really couldn't handle the cold
Summers and falls to him seem all right
Spring with thunder storms gave him the fright
He was the first boy amongst us to kiss a girl
Hot Holly by golly gave him a whirl
We all played indoors to be by his side
The feelings of yesterday we all denied
Than just like that Yarn was gone
His family went back to were they belong
We felt betrayed and misunderstood
We lost a friend and did the best we could
Late at night a group of us looked up to the sky
Was Yarn looking down to us from way up high?
Worlds apart but we become close yet he left so far
We miss our friend two big hearts within the boy from Mars
April 6 Wagontire, Oregon
1973
In 1973, I went on a road trip
With my father
We left Berkeley to go to Yakima
Where my father had a summer cabin
He was a college professor
And had July and August off
And we spent the summers
Every summer from 1968 to 1978
Our whole dysfunctional family
Our annual road trip to hell and back
As we did not get along at all
We decided to drive through Eastern Oregon
Just my father and me
Just for the hell of it
The rest of the family was already there
My father and I shared a travel lust
One of the few things we shared
This was one of our best trips
We got along
Which was unusual
Normally our relationship
Was fraught
As we were so different
We left Klamath Falls
A real nothing burg in those days
And headed east along highway 395
As we entered the desert of eastern Oregon
We entered a different world
High mountain dessert
Almost no one on the road
Then we saw the sign
Wagontire Oregon
100 miles ahead
99 miles ahead
98 miles ahead
We counted down the signs
Miles after miles
As we drove into the gathering dusk
We speculated that Wagontire
Must be a giant truck stop
In the middle of no where
We pulled into the town
Nothing there but a gas station
Motel and café
We decided to stop
Last gas for 100 miles
According to the highway signs
In the morning
We chatted with the owner
He was the sheriff, the fire chief
The owner of the motel, gas station
The only business in town
And the only place open
For one hundred miles
I noticed a highway sign outside
Welcome to Wagontire, Oregon
Population 2 ½ humans 10 dogs, 50.000 sheep
I asked the Sherriff
Say who is the ½ human?
My idiot son!
And we left.
200 miles later
We finally left Eastern Oregon
2016
In 2016 my wife and I drove through Eastern Oregon
As part of our epic cross country trip
10,000 miles
31 states in three months
On the way from Medford to Yellowstone
We drove along highway 395
The signs for Wagontire was gone
And we drove through the town
The motel was abandoned
Nothing there at all
And that sign was gone too
I said I suppose the idiot son
Never took over the business
And we speculated about Wagontire
And all other nothing burgs
We drove through that summer
Heart of Trump’s America
True fly over country
‘Twas way back in them days
when the ranch owner’s ways
was just about the only law there was around
Rancher’s money was king
and gun violence reigned
till marshal Ben Miller made his way into town
Well that town was real rough
till Ben said ‘twas enough
that’s when he used his guns to bring law to the street
But there's always that one
thinks he's fast with his gun
would soon find himself face down covered with a sheet
For the next twenty years
Ben had kept the streets clear
of any no-gooders that might drift into town
Then folks started to say
Ben was showing some gray
maybe his old age had started to slow him down
The councilmen all met
said it is with regret
that we tell you it's time for you to settle down
They baked him a nice cake
a few speeches they'd make
and introduced him to the new marshal in town
Town folk gathered and cheered
told him how twenty years
was a long time to stay on this side of the grave
Ben took a look around
rode his horse outta town
with his new gold watch and the few dollars he'd saved
That is often the way
a cowboy's life got played
long ago when the country was still just a pup
When a trusted hired hand
gave his life for the brand
honest and loyal was the way he was raised up
If you think this is sad
or Ben's life turned out bad
well then this might be a little good news for you
Was the very next week
Men lay dead in the street
they had robbed the bank and stole the mayor's horse too
When they tried to get Ben
to come marshal again
sure don't take no book smarts to know how he replied
Well, he asked widow Jones
if she'd like to go along
and off to the wide open Montana they'd ride
Was a day in March when
Jasmine married old Ben
Though they had only been courtin' about a year
Said they was gonna go
where the tall grasses grow
gonna try their hand raisin a few cows and steers
Well they made it alright
through frozen winter nights
mostly cause they hadn't built up much of a herd
When the next spring turned mild
it brought both calves and child
after that first year their ranchin' blood had been stirred
It’s been thirty years since
granpap left Defiance
now I stop alongside his grave near' every day
I watch over his spread
more than five thousand head
as they grow fat right here on the Rockin’ Bar J
Warm your heart with what’s left of summer, warm your heart and put on a thick skin for winter, open all the resorts and hotel all over the town and fill them with tourist where destiny is bound.
Fire and storms will come, twister, tornados, typhoon, hurricane, cyclone will take you up to the moon and when the earthquake levels everything to the ground you can find solace on the other side of the town. When the fires burn the hill, just look up to the skies and keep still, it is purifying the land so the next generation can sing a happy song.
Warm your heart with what is left of the summer, warm your heart and dine with me in winter. I will give you discount on every suite and I will give you half price for a table for two to romance in the breeze. Get the whole family and come and have some summer fun life goes on for the battle that is not yet won.
Many businesses are down and total devastation is left in the town but somewhere in the middle of the ruins, there is hope. You can clear away a spot, set up a mobile kitchen, an entertainment corners and bring the caterers in.
The tourist bus will arrive in your town and they will greet you without a frown, the ships will come too and you will have business for the rest of the year so don’t fear.
Warm your heart with what is left of the summer get your friends and family and join me for dinner, Aunt Jane cannot come because her grieving is long,
She cannot get over the loss of her entire family. Three boys, a husband and four dogs perish in the fire. She was away when the fire started; she is inconsolable and she is vulnerable so we visit her from time to time to tell her that life is divine. She will always have a seat at this table.
Warm your heart with what is left of the summer and let’s go shopping, before winter, we will get something’s from the gardens store because we are going to do a big barbecue outdoor.
You must get some household gift, kitchen counter and table items. You will go to the electronic store and buy many things galore; business is very slow so you will bring some people in the town and have blowout sale all year round.
Warm your heart with what’s left of the summer, take a trip to Japan, China or America, just let it all go and get ready for the big show.
Winter is around the corner so enjoy what is left of the summer; just warm your heart.