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Sunday Morning Poets Corner...
Started by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
An alternative to Saturday...

ON WATCHING THE KING'S SPEECH


I understood.
The shop counters, and bus journeys;
the school registration...

The pubs, the clubs;
and the fear and frustration...

And then,
like Bertie,
I fought the monster
that followed me around
like the Plague.

Don't be vague
said the Catholic Priest:
Yours is the voice
that slayed the Beast...


Jarvo 2012

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CHILD IN THE LEAVES
(In Stanley Park)


Young child,
you lie in the leaves.

November's breath
blows cold,

but you play on.
Soon,

the drifts of snow
will whiten these paths:

Play on!
The world will watch

as you play;
and stay

a while longer in
childhood...

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


WALKING BACK
(Through Stanley Park)


Defeat is not nice.
It cuts at the heart.

The moon pales
and darkness falls...

Walking back,
through the park,

the dark seemed darker
and the night felt heavy.

I looked back
and saw the stadium lights:

such a fine line,
between joy and sadness,

on Saturday nights...


Jarvo 2011

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SCROOGE, AT THE GATES


"Let me in" said Scrooge,
feeling the draught at his feet.

"I have given the poor of London,
wine, cheese and meat..."

"Wait a minute" said Saint Nick,
looking down the list...

"Your CV's out of date.
Looks like you'll miss

out on the next intake..."
"I'll go to Bedlam" said Scrooge

turning away with a cob on...
"Hang on", said Saint Nick

can you sing Barbara Allen?
"Indeed Sir" he replied,

"And dance to any Polka..."
"Come through then" said Nick

"You're just what we're after..."


And thus Scrooge entered Heaven
amidst much surprise

and laughter...


Jarvo 2011

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Updated: November, 2012...By public demand...

Posted by: jay_1 (14715)  Report abuse

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SOUTH SOUTH WEST


South South West...

the road ahead.

Avoid the fourteen meadows
and go by Poolstock instead.

I'll meet you where
the sun's angle comes to rest.

And turn forty five degrees
South by South West...


Jarvo 2012



For All Who Designed And Built Southgate...

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
I do like your poems Jarvo - the Child In The Leaves was beautiful.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Veg Grower: Thank you.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
MONTREAL, 29TH DECEMBER, 1969


She holds the mirror.
And combs her honey hair.

She pretends I'm not there.
And fixes her gaze above.

I kneel at her feet:
young, and longing for love.

One kiss. One touch.
One bite at the apple.

The long night passes:

The snow
has stopped falling,

on the journey from the city park,
after dark,

the next day.
She waits in the Canadian moonlight;

a ghost of the night
illuminous, by the hotel door.

The long night passes: the dark becomes dawn.

Tis then that I must leave her,
to catch the plane home...




Jarvo 2012

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE BOOK OF LOVE


I will give my former love
a gift from my heart:

A token of the gratitude
for setting me free...

A book of verse
from me

to her,
with all my thoughts of our days spent together.

It will be a lovely book:
bound in black and gold,

and will tell her my
true feelings that have never been told.

The book will be unique:
it will tell the truth, and what had to be.

And in it,
everything she ever meant to me...

* * * *

I imagine her,
opening it on Christmas morn,

her face,
weary with age,

mystified by its blank paper...
page after page...


Jarvo 2012

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CHRISTMAS, 2010


In the darkness,
you slept.
I fiddled with work boots,

closing doors
and switching on coloured lights.
The whole world could wait:

as we took refuge from the snow.
And they let us hesitate
as we wrestled with other consciences;

with each day a round
in the contest
called love.

Jarvo 2012

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE CHRISTMAS JAR


She gave me a jar of sweet pear drops,
yellow and pink.

The clink
of the lid,

that was lovingly sealed,
opened the aroma

of yesterday:
The orange sugared sweet shop;

the bell at the door:
the mix of the old with the new;

and the days and the nights
before I met you...


Jarvo 2012


Happy Christmas to all who read these sweet threads...

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Jarvo..I said a couple of years ago that your'e missing your way..those are lovely..it was only yesterday that I was telling someone about them.
Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Thank you Momac. Merry Christmas to you and yours...

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LAST NIGHT IN JEM LOWES


We spat in the fire,
and threw our dregs of beer
on to the embers of wood.

How many folk have passed through here?
John Scroggie, Bob Fairhurst,
and Farmer John...

We're honoured to be the last,
before the dying fire,
as time and memory move on...



Jarvo 2012

Posted by: aussie94 (1562) Report abuse
The boy stood on the burning deck ,
his 8rse was all a twitter.
If you don,t #uck off I,ll do a Shi**r he said Uncouth Australian !

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Jarvo.......you are a star.......

iPad and Nexus users click here for bottom of page

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Lizzie's contribution..........

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains
Of golden mountain ranges
Of drought and flooding rains

I love her far horizons
I love her jewelled sea
Her beauty and her terror
This wide brown land for me

Dorothea McKellar

The first verse of my all time favourite Aussie poem.

Posted by: aussie94 (1562) Report abuse
great one lizzie

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Splendid, Lizzie...

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thanks fellas.....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE DISCO STOMP


Tony Hamilton...Hamilton Bohannon
Johnny Keough,
Mal Gaskel;

Philip Croston,
Snirk Barton,
Tony Croston;

John Mannion,
Tony Huyton,
Steven Penman;

Ronald Bad Ass Riley,
(without his shoes on)
David Ralphson,
"Big Dickie" Dickinson;

Steve Wince,
Big Vince,
And Miss Ince;

Ian Winrow,
Barrie Winrow,
Wigan Tommy (some of you don't know);

Alan Gore,
Eric Hutch,
Dawber;

Paul Peet,
Bri Peet,
Mucker, his arse, and his feet...

Gizmo,
Ronnie Lowe,
Mario;

Larry Weir,
Mrs C.
David Gee;

Mrs Mills,
Pike,
Spike;

Big John King,
Tash King
Mick Moss;

Cy Norris,
Bert Jukes,
Skrikin' Annie (dirty looks!);

Alan Connolly,
Twin McCanns,
Bob Blan;

Jem O'Grady,
Phil Milady
Jimmy Brady...

Dave Lee
Phil Walker,
and Me...

...the rest is history...

Did the Disco Stomp...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: builderboy (1790) Report abuse
Cy Norris
Bert Duke
Alan Connolly
Bob Blan
Twin McCanns
Skriking Annie
Christine Croston
Pon Face

Now try go get them into your rhyme!

Posted by: david49 (2522) Report abuse
your cruel to jarvo phil

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TWELFTH NIGHT


"Sing A Song Of Sixpence, A pocketful Of Rye,
Four And Twenty Blackbirds Baked In A Pie..."


On this night
I snapped a twig
and threw it in the gutter.

I will toast the bare apple trees
with my cup of cheer,
and nobody again

may pass through here.

The gate is shut
but a token
I offer to you:

Here,
take this rag,
it is yours to keep.

For no longer will you
tarry,
or dwell in my sleep...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
REVOLVER


You left your raincoat
and ventured out into the night.

It never rained;
but I knew we'd never meet again.

You left your raincoat, here,
on the bannister rail;

I gave it to an old woman,
who was stooped and as aged

as you were.
How charitable am I?

How giving and how honest?
Pity then,

you would forget most things;
even the simple stuff:

like leaving out the frozen meat
for supper.

But you never forgot how to breathe,
when you put on your black gloves

and fired your revolver.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
UNDER THE AMBER


Tonight,
a stoat will
kill
under the amber.
And,
a train
will come
later;
when the green light
lets
the morning Mail
pass,
on to
the up
fast...


Jarvo 2013

For Eric Farrimond

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
AIRPORT SONG
(Bucharest Airport, December, 2003)


He pointed his gun:

"The bag. Open the bag..."

I heard a click;

"Quick, quick", said Joe.

He shuffled through papers
and pencils fell to the floor...

"We must go. We must go!"

Nothing to declare:
he shook his head...

"Clean!"

As the snow fell,
we headed for Gate 22.

"Quickly, don't look back..."

I caught his eye
as we passed through.

"Go! We must go!"

The plane lifted high
above the snow...

We must go. We must go...


Jarvo 2013

Analogy...

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SWAN SONG


Just before I go,
a word in your ear:

throughout it all,
the days, minutes and the hours,

I never once
bought you flowers...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE WALLGATE WEDDINGS

(An Excerpt)


It was late when I caught the bus.
From the window,
I could see the brides:
all blushing, and all in white.
The bus slowed
at the Grapes,
giving me a good sight
of all the fuss and show...

Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
VERONICA


At the bottom of the Baltic Sea
you hide amongst the broken shells.
My Angel fish;

my darling of the deep.
Your photograph I cherish,

your memory I keep.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE BALTIC SEA


All hands
holding the frost covered rail.
We drew closer.
A light in the distance

where you went overboard.
We searched:
the Baltic sky
shed frozen tears.

Forty fathoms deep
and forty eight years,
you took your grave
in the Baltic Sea.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: nicko (inactive) Report abuse
my arse jarvos face


face 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
I lost a friend there...

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Jarvo - did you lose a friend in the Baltic Sea?

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Veg Grower:

When I am writing my poetry, I use metaphysical imagery and symbolism. In my two recent poems, 'Veronica' and 'The Baltic Sea', I have combined an analogy of 'life' with the Sea. The feelings of loss are real, but are symbolised with the dark forbidding sea to life itself. Veronica is gone forever, lost at sea, as in lost in life itself. Both poems are about the same person: Veronica is lost forever in the storm of life.
The SS Veronica was lost at sea in 1899 on the coast near the port of Odessa. I have used that analogy for both poems. But in reality Veronica is a real person...

Hope you understand how I work...

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Ah I see Jarvo - I read all your poems, they are very thought-provoking.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Veg grower: Thank you.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HITLER ON SPEED


It's true:
Adolf Hitler was on speed.

Some days,
when the pace of life slows,
I think about how it all ended:

like everything else,
people get burned:
their hands and their pockets;

and their hearts get fried
like liver
and become edible...

to be eaten by monsters.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: builderboy (1790) Report abuse
Ladies and Gentlemen,

Jarvo tackled this old Soft Cell number whilst under the influence of alcohol in the Fishergate Inn last Saturday night.

Whilst it pains me to admit it, he did a pretty fair job. Not Marc Almond, but pretty fair nonetheless.

Nice bit of work Uwe, doesn't it feel so much better if you manage to nail something that is outside your normal comfort zone.

Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

Standing in the door of the Pink Flamingo
Crying in the rain
It was a kind of so so love
And I'm going to make sure it never
Happens again
You and I
It had to be
The standing joke of the year
You were a sleep around
A lost and found
And not for me I fear

I tried to make it work
You in a cocktail skirt
And me in a suit
(Well it just wasn't me)
You're used to wearing less
And now your life's a mess
So insecure you see
I put up with all the scenes
And this is one scene
That's going to be played my way

Take your hands off me
I don't belong to you, you see
Take a look at my face
For the last time
I never knew you
You never knew me
Say hello goodbye
Say hello wave goodbye

Under the deep red light
I can see the makeup sliding down
Hey little girl you will always make up
So take off that unbecoming frown
What about me- well
I'll find someone
That's not going cheap in the sales
A nice little housewife
Who'll give me a steady life
And won't keep going off the rails

Take your hands off me
I don't belong to you, you see
Take a look at my face
For the last time
I never knew you
You never knew me
Say hello goodbye
Say hello wave goodbye

We've been involved
For quite a while now
And to keep you secret has been hell
We're strangers meeting for the first time, okay?
Just smile and say hello
Say hello then wave goodbye

Say hello then wave goodbye (x4)
Say hello wave goodbye
Say hello then wave goodbye
Say hello say goodbye
Goodbye
Say goodbye
Say goodbye

Goodbye...

Jarvo - A singing poet (but no Bob Dylan)

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse


I have Lucille lined up...

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
The rain comes down,
There they are,
Puddles

Wellington boots
Out of the cupboard,
Pull them on.

Outside I go,
Splish splash
Oh how I love

PUDDLES!!!!!! Lizzie 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse

LOU AT FIFTEEN


Lou,
in your tartan trews,
in the doorway of that posh hotel.
Kiss and tell:
all your secrets,
and all the love
you lived and breathed.
Then go forever
and leave me be...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
WHISTLE DOWN THE WIND


"Half a century of whistling
has brought me back here..."

So said the escapee,
counting his days of freedom
anew.

"And to think it was just a storm
in the deep black sea"

Now,
he sits on the moors
and climbs the damp hills;

a lookout
whistling his way
through the barren days,

hoping the sun may
bring back the warmth
and those familiar ways...


- - - - - -


ALAS


Alas,
the midnight ramble home
comes to nothing.
Once again
the old boots
blister and bleed.
And sleep,
like an old foe,
closes the
show...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE IRON LADY


She's gone.
And now the coal dust
can blow again

over their
empty
graves.

Nothing is achieved.
So let the grass grow
under your feet.

The molten metal's
long been poured:
over empty breakfast

cereal bowls.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
You are very good Jarvo....have you thought of putting your verse in a book.....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE YOUNGEST DAUGHTER


The Rose Queen
in her chariot of roses

red as the blood
shed

in her coming,
go forth

to your horses
in the meadow.

Tomorrow
a half century ago,

you came
in the early summer rain;

the youngest of the three,
to me...


Jarvo 2013

For K.

Thanks, Lizzie.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE GRASS


Look at the grass...
it grows back
over bare patches.

The clock ticks on:
and the days
darken and then they

grow longer.
I lie in the grass
and breathe in the night.

But it cannot be the same again.
The blade cuts the memories:
and they become bare and faded.

Like the grass.


- - - - -


ASHES TO ASHES


And so they scattered me,
at the top of the hill.

Up the long forgotten
childhood road.

On the windy beacon
where I once roamed.

But the salty breeze
from the Irish sea,

blew me back home.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
SOUTHPORT

Walking, walking walking,
Will we ever get there,
Shimmering in the distance,
Further away.

Walking still,
Hard ripples underfoot,
Not welcoming, too hard
For small feet

The shimmering sea,
Always out of reach,
Still walking,
Still walking.



Lizzie 2013

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Lizzie - I can still feel those ripples underfoot.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
I know Veg.....it took for ever....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CROMARTY


There,
on that North Sea lookout,
where the boats
came and went.

I lost you forever;
and with it
the land of
lost content...



For A.E.Housman


- - - - - -


CONCERNING THE MOON


There you are again!
Watching me
rolling home,
half shot...
Climbing over
midnight fences...
Happy
or not...



Jarvo 2013


Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse

Rain hitting the ground,
The grey clouds
Give up their gold

So long, so long
Have we endured
Dry, dusty arid

Now water soaks
The thirsty ground
Everything shines.

LIZZIE 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE CORNCRAKE


"You'll never see him,"
said D.H.Lawrence
leaning on his mother's
back yard fence.

"But I've mentioned him
in despatches
to say I heard him,
in evidence..."


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
MIDNIGHT


"I'm not drunk,"
she said,
tripping
down the alleyway.

"Neither am I,"
was my reply,
walking
the other way...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
I JUST LOST THE MOON


I just lost the moon,
came a voice from a place.

So what?
said the voices in space.

You must be sick of the empty promises:
It's a disgrace

to think of her lies
and her deceit.

She was a fake,
an illusion and a cheat.

Let the moon go.
You don't believe in her,

anymore...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LETTER


Hello. I'm doing fine.
Thanks for the loan
but don't moan
if I pay you in five years time.
The weather here
is as bad as London Town
and the railway arch
gets me down.
My fiddle is bust
and my shoes are covered in rust.
The day you left
I decided I'd go back to the coast,
to make the most
of the waters;
her daughters are all here;
but I fear
I might get lost...
I think of you regardless
and when I sing
it is dedicated to you.
Forgive me,
for I sinned
and binned everything
we had.
Must go now,
the car has arrived
to take me to my wedding,
so I'm shedding all my
dreams of you.
Take care,
and set your course
westerly,
toward the setting sun...

I'm done.

Yours very sincerely,
nearly,
but not to
be...


Jarvo x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE RIVER


Just after the bend,
the river takes a different course:

the water foams,
and is red with blood.

The sun catches the dagger,
and eyes once bright

are blinded
by the light.

The old Roman weeps
at the river's edge:

' Come forward,
show your faces...

Cross this river
if you dare...'


Then stand with others
on the bridge of peace...

Or stay-
and be damned there!


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
JONI'S LAST SONG


Cigarettes and tears
and through the years

she has skated
a million frozen rivers.

And now,
this is her last song:

"Goodnight and Goodbye",
and then she flies back to the Canyon...

Starbright, starbright...

Yes, it's true:
Joni is on this flight

tonight.


Jarvo 2013

For Broady, the 'Pretend' Canadian...


Note: Can you spot the two songs and the album?

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
DEARLY BELOVED


...We are gathered
here today, to remember

what was,
and what has now

gone.
Thank God,

comes the reply
in whispers

through the gallery
walls.

And then the curtains
are drawn

and all the stuff
is packed away...

On a grave,
under the Apple blossom tree,
purple summer flowers
dripping with tears,
are crying
to be fed...



Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
SISTERS

We never did see eye to eye,
We never did love the same things,
We never did have harmony,
We never did talk endlessly

We now have found all that was lost,
We now have love of life's treasures
And our song is in tune
And conversation is sweet
Lizzie....2013


Thank you dear sis for your company today....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HER ROOM


From here
I can see the Derbyshire hills.
And at the half-light of evening
a dozen places
where we roamed.
At midsummer
the shadows are cast
at angles to the moon.
And Venus
blinks beneath
every passing cloud.
She's gone now,
and this is her room
to keep.

Let me sleep
under the stars she kept.
Let me sleep.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
That is sad but very beautiful.....

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Jarvo,can you do a poem for Celtic please.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HAIL CELTIC


Hail Celtic!
At the Gates
John stands:

Guinness in hand,
and duvet
tucked under his arm.

At four o'clock,
they let him in...

The Saints smile,
and the Green and White

band strike up
the tune...

Hail Celtic!
Marching in with the Saints

on Midsummer day
in June...


Jarvo 2013

For Celtic 4.

God bless. x

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
That's beautiful.thank you jarvo..he'll love it too.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
JUNE 23rd


I can still hear Miss Hill's voice,
"Today's birthday boy,
stand at the front, please..."

Through the mists of time,
the fogs,
the rains and the snow;
the walks on those frosty fields,
and the way back home
under an autumn moon.
On the lathe and the bench
and on the picket line;
in that Eastern land
that bordered the USSR;
in lands afar
and across the Irish Sea:
Cork and Waterford
and the road to Dublin Bay.
To the top of the Highlands
in the snow
at Loch Ness;
to Fort William
by the western pass.
In Venice,
and in Greece,
and as far as the Albanian Hills;
to the German rivers
and the runway at Amsterdam...
In the rain,
in that Black Country town,
in the Bushbury End.
Down to London
and the park
at Blackheath.
Down to Dawlish by
the corridor train;
and to the Welsh beaches
and the Island of Monks.
North,
to the Lakes,
in search of Arthur,
asleep...

These are the moments,
and memories,
I treasure,

on this day,
June 23rd,

for keeps...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
God Bless you Jarvo.....you bring a tear to my tired eyes.....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lizzie.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
EXCALIBUR

The Lady of the Wake, with her consort, crying in her beer, under the weeping willow tree...


She found it,
sure enough.

Under the water lilies
in the dried up lake.

It was Excalibur:
fancy and familiar to the Lady of the Wake.

The sword to cut steel:
shiny, sharp,

in its sacred scabbard,
heavy and bible black.

This was the mighty one;
the one she'd used to stab him in the back...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
WE DISCOVER ARTHUR, AT WINDERMERE

Onward, in the quest to see the King again...Through
the Lakeland mist, to the little church with the open door...



Asleep,
near the altar,

King Arthur
by the low lights.

Our distance travelled
by the old roads,

and through
the greenwood trees;

by the fading light
and by way of the rain.

We meet again:
this time

not in triumph,
but in a final farewell

by death's lullaby
and cadence;

as we kneel in homage
and in silence...




Jarvo 2013

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Luv it jarvo

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
MOSNEY, 1961


You went to Mosney
in the year Spurs did the double.
I stayed at home,

doubled up in pain.
I could never spell
Rheumatic again.

A word unknown
to one so young.
It cut,

too close to the heart.
And went instead
by fingers and knees.

I missed the sun that year.
And Maurice Norman
gracing the hallowed turf.

And then,
your postcard arrived:
from a place over the

the Irish sea.
Forgive me:
for not being there.

I missed it all that year:
You,
the early summer,

and all the fun of the fair...


Jarvo 2013


For Pamela Jarvis Schulte. x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE HANGWOMAN


I'll hang you,
she said,
from the scared
Brownie tree.
The one where you
met,
but didn't meet me.
I'll tie the noose
tight around your neck.
And when you fall,
you'll hear
the bough break.
Then when you try
to get through heaven's gate,
I'll hang you again
and won't hesitate...

Yes,

I'll hang you again,
and won't hesitate...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ON THE NIGHT OF THE HIGH SUMMER MOON


They say it is a bad omen:

a red moon in the east.

Tonight,

I saw it in blue:

at the top of summer hill,

above the tree tops,

resplendent in its hue.

It is a fast fading dusk,

and the house lights are turned down;

there is a candle here, that is lit for you.

Come back,

over those familiar fields,

and be wet with the summer rain.

Come back,

through the old meadow gate,

and we'll be lovers

again.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Your poems always create a picture Jarvo - I can always put an image(s) to them.

I noticed it was a full moon last night, and it was really eerie - it was hazy and almost orange in colourn never seen it like that before.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Veg Grower: Yes, that inspired me to write this. I started in the early hours, and came back to it refreshed this morning.

Thank you for your kind comments.

You should put your thoughts on to this thread in verse.

I look forward to your input.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
I am with Jarvo....... Veg.....I feel you have a lot of stuff in your head that you can put on here.....it is like an artist with ideas they come out as paintings.....you grow things.....nurture plants.....the end thing is the same as an artist....everything looks so much better tastes so much better....and you like an artist have made it so.....this can be put into poetry or prose.....just unlock the door Veg....the key fits....

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Thanks Jarvo and Lizzie, I will have to have a go at it, just got a lot on at the mo.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE GHOST SHIP



I went to the coast,
by Whitby
in the North;

then walked down to the quay
with the dog
at my feet.

I counted the steps:
one hundred
and ninety nine.

"This is
a very old wine",


Lugosi's words
on that
first take.

Let the sea come in,
and wash over the empty
benches.

Let it wash over
the dryness
of this dying day;

and then over all those
aboard
the ghost ship.


I MEET JOHNNY AGAIN, AT BRIDLINGTON


Drunk,
he split the street in two.
A charmed life he had;
walking with the women
side by side.
'Here's to fortune,
and luck
and love'.
His tattered suit
and deep blue eyes,
and the rattle
of his bottle.
Come home, Johnny,
you've walked
the whole of this rotten Earth.
Come home to sleep,
and lay down
your
sweet head.
The past is passed
and the future
is dead.


WAVING GOODBYE


They waved us goodbye,
the old men and women.

From the porch
and down into the street.

It was raining
as we left the avenue behind.

It felt
as if someone

had taken my heart
and cut it in two.

The strange things
that I feel,

when I'm not with
you.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Love the Ghost Ship Jarvo - and on the stroke of midnight too.

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Jarvo - your Whitby poem got me thinking, this is a sort of ode to the Hammer Films of which I am a huge fan...

The Vampyre...

The vampyre lay
as darkness loomed,
with putrid breath
and earth entombed,
til full and fleeting
clouds reveal...
a killing moon
in all it's zeal.

A heavy lidded
coffin sighs,
the Dracul
it no longer lies,
he walks as man
yet stronger still,
at dusk to come
and go at will.

A swirling mist
around him creeps,
in fear a lonely
female weeps,
her slender neck
his eyes caress,
the let of blood
drips through her dress....

Copyright Veg Grower 31/07/2013

Posted by: builderboy (1790) Report abuse
Miles better than that bloody Jarvo!

A poem that rhymes - now there's a thing.....

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Builderboy......most poems that do not rhyme can be classed as prose....which is quite acceptable in poetry circles......

Veg that was magnificent....I am overwhelmed at your talent.....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
All my poems rhyme. You've just got to look for it.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
I can always see the rhyme in your poetry Jarvo....mine don't always....but that is how it comes out of my head.....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lizzie.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LEAVING THE APPLE HOUSE


It was evening
when we
left the Apple House.

You gave me your key
and I locked
the door.

It didn't occur to me then,
that we'd never go back
anymore.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
There were no more words
Never again to laugh together
Never again to ask your list
Our togetherness was gone
The word war finished
Miss you Mum..........Lizzie 2013

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Jarvo - no comments on my first poem?

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Veg grower - I loved the vampyre - keep 'em comin'.

Lizzie - lovely lovely poem. Made me think of my mum, taken away from me in 1986 a long time ago and made me realise I should think about her more.

Jarvo - genius.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Ray....We lost Mum in 1992......I think of her every day....there are a lot of things around our house thar were hers so they keep her near......

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Aw Lizzie that's nice.
I've realised that I don't have any real reminders of mum at home. I need to remedy that.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
You should Ray.....your Mum is the reason you are here.....Mum and I used to do the weekend Cross Quiz and Cryptic crosswords in the paper over the phone....she was a brilliant at it ....that is what I was referring to as her "list" and "battle of words" as Mum would always win....
If you go over to Album on Photos, and look for "Dad's Girls" that is a great pic of Mum and my sisters I have posted......

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
What a great picture lizzie, a really happy group
I love that - 'the word war finished'. You've got your mum's wordiness in your genes.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Ray......I am so glad that I am carrying on her love of words......

Big apology to Jarvo.....for hijacking you thread mate....

Posted by: custard (6695)   Report abuse
I really like Apple House..

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
RAIN,FOUR AM


Is it only two hours
that have passed,
when you told me your
confession?

Perhaps
I am dreaming?
I have seen so many
false dawns.

Outside,
the new day has brought rain.
I hear a car
going down the lane.

The dawn hasn't broken:
I fall asleep again...


Jarvo 2013

* * * * * * * *

Veg Grower: I love your Dracula poem.

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SUMMERLAND


From Summer Hill,
you can sometimes see,
the rooftops of Dublin.

Forty years now:
Ursula, Marlene
and Bessie,

you vanished
without saying
farewell.

On the morning Manx wind
your voices echo...
All is well...All is well...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Jarvo your personal & sometimes enigmatic prose continues to amaze .

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
My brother
I thought I heard his voice today
Whistling through the trees
And was that his sweet gentle voice
That was on the summer breeze
The warm sun that surrounds me
Could that be his embrace
If I look long enough
Will I see his lovely face
My tears are in the rain that falls
My dreams are on the wing
When I hear the lovely blackbird call
I can almost hear him sing.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Momac: Lovely, moving poem.

Thank you, Ray.

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Thank you jarvo.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Maureen that is a lovely poem....

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Thank you Liz..it was of course for my lovely late Brother Michael.

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Momac - that was lovely, I know you have mentioned your brother more than once before - you obviously miss him very much.

I have read that several times since yesterday, the words are very moving. Take care. x

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Thank you veggie..I miss him like you wouldn't believe..I was reading these lovely poems yesterday,and on the spur of the moment decided to write those few lines..I can't remember when I last wrote a poem.x

Posted by: MarieM (4686) Report abuse
mo Lovely and very moving. I have lost a brother and it brought a tear to my eye.

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Thank you Marie..brothers are very special aren't they.

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Mo I loved your poem. I know you loved your brother.
It wasn't obvious that you penned it. You should 'do a jarvo' & put your name and date at the bottom of your prose.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SISTER SONG


Of the three,
one carried the torch

and lit the way
for me.

The oldest took me in
when my ship could not anchor;

and the baby girl
I ran home to see,

makes me laugh
and is special to me...


Jarvo 2013

For My Sisters

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
A poem for every occasion jarvo

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Thank you Ray.

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Jarvo..the sister poem is lovely and very thoughtful.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
I no longer see your little face
Your little fingers no longer
Entwined with mine
You have gone to a place
Where I cannot go
But one day my little girl
We will once again
See the love
In each others eyes

For Kylea 1974-1975

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Aww Liz..that's lovely..who's little one was that if you don't mind me asking.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Our's Maureen....xx

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
I shed a tear for you Liz.x

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Maureen.....xx

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Lizzie a lovely sad verse, I have a tear in my eye.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Ray....

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Lizzie - I'm sorry that you lost your daughter. x

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Veg.....x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE HORSES HAVE GONE


I hadn't noticed,
that the time had passed.
Your photograph,

the one I kept;
the one taken in the country park:
the sun is shining,

and you look happy.

Today,
I took a walk
back to the same spot,
near the wire fence.

A cold breeze
blew in from the north
and my words went unheard.

Time and you
have moved on...

The field is fallow,
and the horses have gone...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
You miss this person so much Jarvo.....I am sorrowful too....for souls that have passed....I take my strength from the souls that still surround me......

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Jarvo.
Welcome owd lad.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LAST PIPE SMOKER IN WIGAN


Banished
to the gates
of the pretty plantations,
he drew
on his
walnut pipe:

Hazelnut from Holland;
aromatic
and exquisite,
this moment
by the cool
ferns.

The last pipe smoker in Wigan,
alone
in the green woods,
oblivious,
as the Wigan World
turns...


Jarvo 2013

For I-Spy.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HYDE PARK CORNER


It's still the same,
since the year Diana died,
and the whole of England
stopped to say goodbye.

I won't try to capture the past;
the grass has grown over
and the old houses
are empty and locked.

But London rattles on:
from Kilburn
to the Strand,
and here by the Pelican crossing,

I wait to catch a glimpse
of you
coming through the park,
barefoot

with a rose in your hand...


Jarvo 2013


Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Mr J.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Cheers, Ray.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Jarvo....lovely....

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
I remember
Your beautiful hair
Your blue eyes
The football match
Across the screen
The message of utter despair
Rest in peace
Princess of angels

Lizzie 2013.....

Posted by: i-spy (13270)  Report abuse
I could smell the smoke jarvo

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
EPILOGUE


"Here's to tomorrow..."
said the not so wise old man;

not once thinking about
the one he adored, loved

and lost...
...his woman.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
GREENSLEEVES


It was under the trees
by the Apple House.
You wore your green

pinafore.
I noticed you
weeks before,

with your strappy shoes.
I was humming the blues.
It was a hot evening:

you were walking from the park.
The light was fading
and it was getting dark...



Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LAST NIGHT ON THE PROM


Tonight
we sit one more time
on the prom.
I have become older
and you,
as graceless
as you ever were,
swear to me
that it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters:
perhaps only
the cold breeze
that as blown up
over the black Irish sea.

The same one,
as icy as the coldest heart,
that still
separates
you and me...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ON FLODDEN FIELD


Here,
by the stream,
their flags were laid low.
As the sun set,
the lines of the dead
were buried
in the meadow.

Hush,
do not weep in vain,
for tomorrow
a King will be crowned
in heaven.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Beautiful. I have just been to get a clean Hankie!!

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Jarvo, lovely, spot on.
Perfectly timed for the 500th anniversary.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE NIGHTJAR


I have lost my religion.
My old faith healer
is long dead.

At night,
I sing a song or two;
it makes sense of things.

The night draws me in:
but the voices I knew
are muted now.

Walking back home,
I hear his song:
my long lost friend,

drunk again,
and stealing milk
from the goats...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Bless you Jarvo....😌

Posted by: builderboy (1790) Report abuse
(Comment removed because it broke the rules)

Posted by: wizzerwin (1441) Report abuse
Jarvo it's a lie, I never laid a hand on those goats, it was B.D or E.H. ask Phil.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Barrie: Caprimulgus. Look it up...

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
APOLLO 18



Somewhere,
on the dark side of the moon,
we ran aground.

It was in the Sea of Secrets,
lit by a single lantern,
when we gave out the call:

'Ditched in bad weather...
all hands...
every man for himself...'

Later,
when the sun came around
we found ourselves

scattered to the four corners of the moon,
our boots,
heavy in the lunar dust,

trying to make
the best
of it...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: wizzerwin (1441) Report abuse
Jarvo, that's what I said after a few night jars and with a bunch of birds, BD and EH sometimes get confused between the goats and the birds.

And I know what a nightjar is I spent most of my teenage years on my back in the fields.

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Jarvo,
Thanks for the thread. If i might add a little piece and for the poets to continue.
IN MEMORY OF OUR FOREBEARERS
The black dust clung to his back,
Gouged in by graft and sweat,
As he coughed up came the black
Phlegm, so many had spit in the grate back,
He crouched in the dust and dank air,
He felt around on all fours, as he touched the once fair
Face of his son. Now blackened and pale,
Another death in this sorry tale.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Tom: moving stuff...

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Jarvo
Thanks for the thread
Happy to contribute.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE STREETS


Ah, the streets...

As the leaves fell,
I ran down cobbles,
knocked on strange doors,
and cried tears
under that wretched moon.

It is different in daylight:
the murderers
and the heartbreakers
flee at the rising of the sun.

And my tears
dry like a river bed.


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ST PATRICK'S BELL


I stand alone
at the top of the old hill.

Down below,
they are trying to make sense of it;

the beer is plenty
and the ale houses overflow...

If you listen,
you may hear

the bell tolling
for the living and the dead:

a steady beat
muffled by the madness...


Jarvo 2013


For Seamus Heaney

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Jarvo
Very moving, as has been said before you have a gift.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse

You were such a mad dog,
This comes to mind
After you have gone

The aching heart
Grandchildren sobbing
The vet's instructions

Out to the car park
Once again to look into
Your loving eyes

You were always
My first 'grandchild'
First on the scene

Eternal rest old girl.......


For Tarsha....always loved....never forgotten... xx 🐾

Lizzie 2013

Posted by: builderboy (1790) Report abuse
tom1303

No he doesn't so stop encouraging him

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LOVE HEARTS


I have run out of Love Hearts:

Sweet days under the verander,
taking turns to choose.
There were not many as sweet as you,
in your paisley frock
and eyes as blue as the sky.

The years have come between us;
and the afternoons are poorer
for the gulf that separates
the sun from the rain.
I wonder if we'll ever meet again?

Ignoring the ticking of time,
choosing our Love Hearts
when you were mine...


Jarvo 2013


For Christine

- - - - - - - -

PS: Thank you, Tom.

Lizzie: Been there, felt that.

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Some lovely words here.

Sorry to hear about Tarsha Lizzie, know how that feels. It is the 1st anniversary of our Molly's passing.

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Builder boy

Posted by: builderboy (1790) Report abuse
Jarvo

Get to work you lazy git - I will see you at around 10pm, hopefully with me wearing a winner's grin

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Bless you all💗

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Builderboy: 10pm? I will have sang my fifth song by then...But thank heaven for small mercies: I can drink in moderation.

Good luck, you Bluenose Wiggin Rugbyite.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE BLACKBERRIES


Ripe now,
the little berries
that are pecked by Blackbird and Thrush.

The bush is bare,
and a memory must die.
We may never pass this way again;

never to pick
with red-stained fingers,
the fruits of those lost years...




Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
A LETTER FROM IRELAND


She remembered...
the picture of Johnny Fean
tucked inside the
scented blue envelope,
guitar in hand,
smiling.

The ticket to Dublin Stadium,
meeting by the West door:
'Get the midnight ferry, on the
Friday...'

I have kept this letter for
forty years hence.
Forty summers
we should have spent
with the horses
on your estate...

I hesitate,
as the clock strikes
midnight:
the time the first bomb
took you
from this
Earth...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse




You are gone
Your music still
In my head
All around me

A waste of life
Halted in seconds
Unfair to the world
Unfair to me

For John...very missed.....October 1940--December 1980

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Lizzie, simple but profound words. I LOVE that.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Ray.....I cannot imagine John at the age of 73...... I was a sobbing mess for days.....😥

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lizzie: His untimely death shocked everybody. I awoke on that fateful morning and could not believe what I was hearing.

Lovely words.

My favourite John track...

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Absolutely beautiful track Mr J.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Jarvo and Ray....the song is so beautiful...and brings back so many memories...thank you...🎵

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TROUTBECK HAIKU


We landed quite late
Cold winter had not been kind
To a sleeping King




Jarvo 2013

For National Poetry Day.

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Jarvo I love the way you conjure up words & am familiar with haiku & its structure but is there an explaination for Troutbeck & a sleeping King?, or is it a personal thing?.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Ray: My daughter was studying Art at sixth form college. She was doing a thesis on 'The Last Sleep Of Arthur In Avalon', a wonderful painting by Edward Burne-Jones.

She had to compare his other work for course work. We drove to Jesus Church, Troutbeck, in the Lake District. The Vicar kindly gave us permission to take photographs of the magnificent stained-glass window that Burne-Jones had commissioned there.

It was a wonderful atmosphere when we finally found the little church, tucked away in a wooded valley, on a late misty Sunday afternoon in late November...

The haiku was inspired by the visit.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE OCTOBER MOON HAS HIDDEN AWAY


Far from the fallow fields,
the pale moon has left

the lamp lit town.
He will be following her

as she skips the wet streets;
high heels sparking the stones,

lighting up her path
and guiding her home.

I rise to the steady rain:
the pain has eased

and my eyes have dried up their tears.
The October moon has hidden away.

His torch only burns for her:
and he will not let her go...

today, tonight
or tomorrow...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
I don't know your story Jarvo....is that verse something to do with it....tell me to mind my own business if you like😌

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lizzie: Symbolism. Abstract poem using imagery. The moon represents a lover or a feeling. The narrator is ruled by the moon; his love roams the night with no one in particular. He sees the moon as the night symbol; looking after her and guiding her home. But he also sees the moon as her lover. She is the figure of the night. The separation is equally painful for both: they still love each other. Also, the moon may represent a third person...

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Jarvo .

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Got it Jarvo....thank you so much for the explanation....😊

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CROSSING THE CROMWELL ROAD


It occurred to me,
in the half light of the early evening,
that all liars
should be crucified.

Pin them to a cross:
their loss
should not be recorded.

Similarly,
do as Cromwell did:
cut off their heads-
and hang them from the apple trees.

I muttered something to myself
as the rain intensified.
Crossing the busy road,
eager to get to the other side...


Jarvo

London, October 2013

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Oaky and me

She looked down as he trudged below,
His steps now laboured and slow.
She had seen him in his prime,
Toil the fields that crops grew through thyme.

He sat below her oak limbed boughs,
The autumn wind through her head did blow,
The church steeple no longer viewed
Its peel only faintly heard,
Oer the sounds of life accrued.

He saw still, with moist filled eyes,
the fields his trade once plied.
Now, factories here and houses there.
On pastures once so fair.
He looked up into her pleasant face and cried.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
COCKFOSTERS


Will I dare to stay on?
Passing Piccadilly Circus
and beyond.

Goin' up the Arsenal
by way of
the Holloway Road,

my journey
on an Oyster
that I easily did afford.

The Japanese old man
with his kindly
old face,

turned
and spoke softly,
with humility and grace:

"Stay till the end
and leave the leaving
to the others."

So I did
and ended up
at Cockfosters...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
FOR MORGAN le FAY


Meet me,
by the Saturday brook,
on the bridge that didn't burn.

I will carry your books
up the hill,
and under the dripping trees.

Bring a candle when you come
and fear not.
There is a moon tonight:

it will stay until morning.
Then,
you may be gone...

Tell no one.




Jarvo 2013 x

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Jarvo
I like it

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Stunning...❤️

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Thank you, Tom and Lizzie.

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Mr J, eloquent and enigmatic as ever

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Ray: You're a gent.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ON THE LEE SHORE


Maybe I should have taken it.
The north road
to the edge
of that sweeping Firth,
dark and distant, the waters deep.

But Ireland is fine:
leave me here to watch
the great sea birds;
let me walk on the salt white pebbles
and watch the boats come home.

Far out to sea, this loss I bear,
over the waves that froth
and pull with the moon;
each tide flowing
with the ticking clock.

If I forgot to lay flowers
then pick those passing years
like apples from our
garden tree:
for it is me who mourns...

It's better this way:
I cannot bear the crowded places,
or face the faces anymore.
Leave me here, with my loss,
far, far out on the lee shore.

Far, far out, on the lee shore...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
In my minds eye I can also see the sea birds...your words are always full of pictures....💜

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lizzie: That poem actually tells an untruth: I did take the north road in March this year when I visited the Cromarty Firth in Scotland...

Wonderful place.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
ok Jarvo.....but don't we always have a bit of licence.....in poetry.....😌

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
MY PERFECT DAY


Weekend walk to the escalator,
along the deserted shopping mall,
I saw you
playing your guitar,
there,
amongst the non-believers
and the coffee drinkers;
you smoked a Gitanes
and looked cool.
What fools are they?
The gifted give us their music,
and we embrace
the finer things.
I like to sing:
you play your guitar.
Come,
come with me tonight...
let us share our love for
the moment;
that moment when the chord
is struck,
under the lights
with the warmth on our necks.
I offer you my song-
you play it with
tenderness.
You offer me your
opinion:
you like it here
and your smile,
so warm
and so, so, sincere,
makes
my perfect day...


Jarvo 2013

For Lou Reed

Posted by: tom1303 (1602)  Report abuse
Dus know what ?
I came from nowt, an i'll leave wi nowt,
Mi pockets are as empty now
As when I grafted for mi corn
Mi life, will seem worth bugger all
But I will tell thee, somewhat forlorn
Dus know what, I stand tall.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Love it Jarvo.......Tom.....stand tall....because I do.....☺️

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
AFTER THREE YEARS AT SEA, I SIGHT LAND


Three years,
and a yard of ale.

Forty moons
and a million words

that have fallen on deaf ears.
I rise from my tomb

on a ship named deceit,
and glad of the changing west wind.

The vampire has taken her stake from my heart:
'Land Ho!'

Bloodless,
she walks my nights no more...



Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
BELLA'S HOUSE


Someone mentioned you today,
one word,
your name lighting up
the mundane lives of others.

We all remembered you:
gathering up the summer flowers,
your basket sweet with rosemary,
picking the red berries

down the lane
that led to your house...


Jarvo 2013

Peace On Earth

Posted by: raymyjamie (4795) Report abuse
Mr J.
No need to reply to this but this is so much needed after all that dreadful dreadful stuff that went on yesterday.

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Hear hear.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Peace......

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HOME AGAIN
(A Song)


November nights
And the fiddle is a playin'
By the fire and by the light
I'm a stayin'

Too late to travel
And too cold for strayin'
Home again for the fall
And no more I'll go awayin'


Jarvo 2013

For Barry Dransfield

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
DYLAN THOMAS, AT THE CHELSEA HOTEL


"In two hours time, I shall be dead",
he said.

One hundred and twenty minutes
went by...

"Cry not for the living, they are but
passers by. The journey forth has begun:
let them come!
The heartless men and the women liars;
the doomed and the damned.
I am but a man,
who seeks the higher
and that tender night.
Put right
what you will; decide then
who will tend to your graves.
The flowers will frost:
I am lost now
to this world..."

These,
his last words,
at the Chelsea Hotel.

Tell me you do not believe.
Go forth,

and take these words.
And pin them to your heart...


Jarvo 2013

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ROUTE 225/BADGERS WOOD


Glad now.
Glad that the wagons won't roll:

Glad that the beauty we created
will not be forsook.

Glad that the rain
still fills the Smithy Brook.

Glad for this homeland
the place of my birth...

...But over the tracks
a Badgers Wood has risen from the earth.

Who's ghost now
do I witness at dawn?

Farmer John, down the sunken road,
bringing the horses home...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LATE NIGHT, BUCHAREST


Take heed
afore ye go.
Stick close to the highway
when the night comes on.

The boy with no legs
will take your money and run.

Follow the yellow torchlight
and keep your hand
on your gun.


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
STAR SPANGLED BANNER (1963)


Of all the flags in the world
I never got this one.
The one with the
stars and stripes:
American,
blue, white and red...

That said,
I got three twicers
on Egypt, Japan and Belgium.
Buying my cards
and chewing
my gum...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TORCH


Tonight,
light my way,
as the wind sweeps in the rain.
Believe in me
and be bold in your love.
Come north,
by the familiar road,
and I'll wait
at the dimly lit door.
Bring me your torch:
your eyes
as bright as
the moon...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SHE IS SLEEPING NOW


She is sleeping now,
and the night comes in.
It is full of bittersweet things
and dreams that unfold

as I lie awake in the dark.
She cannot hurt me:
and she cannot reach out
to ease my pain.

I want to keep her,
here, in this tiny room,
with the night shadows
and the winter moon.

I watch,
and I hear her breathe.
She cannot hurt me:
and she cannot leave.

She is sleeping now,
and my heart she cannot break.
I watch her sleeping
and wish she would not wake.


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LAST NIGHT


Strange now,
eight years gone
and I want to come to visit you.
It wasn't always
strawberries and cream,
no,
winter would come
before I arrived:
the cold draught in the hall
and then a face at the window.
The last night
by the kitchen door,
"I'll leave you to say goodbye"
said the young paramedic.
You,
in your trainer socks,
your long race over,
just short of the finishing line.

Strange then,
eight years passed;
and tonight I would like to visit you;
to sit by the fire,
for maybe an hour,
laying the whole world
to waste...


Jarvo 2014

For E.M.M.J.

Posted by: madamehmurray (5905)   Report abuse
My Lovely Hubby

We have been through a lot in eight years
the madness and the amount of tears.

Our love has grown with all that strength.
My heart still urns for you. my darling

We made it out the other side, and still together

Posted by: taguantar (inactive) Report abuse
Best one yet, Erin

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE WEST MOON


Under the bare oak
is where we laid her
to rest.

Her head faced east,
and her feet
touched the west moon.

We stayed with her
until the clock struck twelve,
and morning turned to afternoon.


- - - - - - - -


MARY


The vision of white,
down by the brook,
calls to us
at the breaking of the day.

The day we saw her:
walking through the water,
her smile as bright
as the sun...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
4.15AM


Bitter,
though I am,
I cannot help,
but take one more swipe
at you.

I hope you are unhappy
in your prison cell;
cast adrift
of morals and humanity.

You deserve your
walnut coffin;
the lid exposed,
and upright by the door.

Your name on a golden plaque:
nearly fifty,
and going grey
at the temples.

I warned you,
and I cursed you;
that your fate
would be sealed.

History will tell us
of your downfall,
amongst the empty cans
on the unhappy eighth floor.

The dusk has died
and the day is up:
as I ponder the rain
and my coffee cup.

- - - - - -

AFTERMATH


On the march in Liverpool,
the activists pass
Islington Hill.

You will
always be remembered here:
lost amongst

the Italian masters,
eating pizza
in the Liverpool winter street...


Jarvo 2014

For J.A.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE NIGHT THE MOON BLED DRY


Coming home,
the white light
in a black paint sky;

and the prophetic warning
on this the night
the moon bled dry...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE PINK SHOES


I lied.
You were never there.
Stories told,
but the fibs were about you.
You were gone then:
away with the half-term blues,
but never for good.
Those were the bad times
that I ponder still.
The bedroom bare
and the silence
hard to bear.
That song,
that I used to play,
the one about the changing seasons,
is playing as I write.
And I remember the first time:
you,
carrying the rug,
looking happy and content;
and the autumn sun
catching your hair on the balcony.
It's gone now,
but soon the apple tree
will be in bloom.
Take this note,
read it if you may.
In the end it was difficult.
Difficult
for you to stay.

I lied,
about the pink shoes.
And the lies were about you.

Sincerely,

J.


Jarvo 2014


Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LONDON MEMORY
(A Man Needs A Maid)


That London memory,
Bakerloo to District;
Mile End, Barking,
and climbing the stairs
to Ingrave House.
The view from the window:
Battersea Power Station,
Kensington and beyond.
We came back through Swiss Cottage;
a mass of gold and black,
warm with victory,
and packed,
shoulder to shoulder,
on the ancient Tube.
We left them at Euston,
skipping through the tunnels
of London,
and back to Mile End.
The night saw us in Romford
at the Golden Gate;
we stayed till the early hours
coming back late,
past Barking Town Hall
where history was made;
the night Neil Young recorded
A Man Needs A Maid...

The night Neil Young recorded
A Man Needs A Maid...

* * * * * *

40 years on,
that London weekend,
locked away, distant
and long gone.

The memories brought back
with the playing
of a song...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LIVERPOOL, 1911


They sent for the Brummies
to sort it all out.
Tough men from Aston
of that little doubt.

Down Church Street they came
fists clenched for a fight.
Blotting out sunlight
and the midday light.

The kids watched in terror
has they charged the Liverpool men;
but they stood their ground
again and again.

The wooded batons brought blood
and the bones cracked and broke.
And brave working men
in their own blood did soak.

At sundown the battle ceased
and silence fell:
dead horses, dead men,
like a scene from hell.

The strike was broken by
the Army and the Police.
But the hatred stayed strong
and resentment didn't cease.

The Liverpool men
made history that day;
taking on the Army
but having to pay...

the price for justice
and a fair day's wage;
for every man and woman
creed, colour or age.

We remember them still
as we stand at the Pierhead.
The brave, the strong,
and the glorious dead...



Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
GLASGOW STREET


Dark, abandoned,
Glasgow Street.
Here,
we used to meet,
under the dock canopy
and the stench of rotting fish.
Here,
the Irish sea dies;
its death wish
buried by the lock gates.
Here,
the night waits
to freeze damp cobbles;
and frost over
the Mersey moon.



Jarvo 2014

Och!

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE OLD KIT BAG


white rope
and plastic cut,
the old kit bag
slung up
on his shoulder.
From Stoke
to Holgate,
in trench coat
and boots.
The bearded gunslinger
going back to
his roots...


Jarvo 2014


For Dave Clarke

Posted by: kitekat (1497) Report abuse
Side by Side

Times weren't always easy
as we grew up side by side.
Catching cockies in the bywash,
always trying to hide.......
...wet socks and shoes from Grandma
hoping she wouldn't see...
....that we'd gone against her orders,
my big brother and me.
Standing there beside you,
as you made your girl your wife,
wondering what the future held,
..no longer in my life.
You'd always be my brother,
but I was no longer first with you.
Wondering how I'd get through things,
things only we would say and do.
And then, my turn, I married twice,
each one would fail with age,
my children soothed my pain and sorrow,
I turned another page.
Our Mother, she grew weary,
and left us both once more
as she went to join her family
On heavens golden shore.
Then you fell ill my brother,
we thought you too would leave
but you clung on and stayed with us
And this we couldn't believe.
Alas the time did surely come
when you too had to go,
and this pain that hits me everyday
tells me how much I loved you so.
And so my brother listen,
don't run away and hide....
... one day soon we'll be together again
as we walk side by side.


In Memory of my Brother John McSorley xx

Posted by: momac (8110)  Report abuse
Kitekat..that is a beautiful poem..you obviously miss your Brother as much as I miss mine.

Posted by: veg grower (inactive) Report abuse
Lovely words Kitekat.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Very moving, Kathleen.

Nice to hear from you again. Take care.

Posted by: kitekat (1497) Report abuse
Thank you, yes I miss him everyday. It's been just over a year but the loss still hurts me. I've been reading your verses Jarvo and realised I missed them so I thought I would put some of my own words on again. Take care too.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Splendid, Kathleen...Keep putting your lovely verse on this thread.

Posted by: kitekat (1497) Report abuse

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
A POEM FOR ROBERT FROST
(And The Road That Was Taken)



Which way?
The long road back?
Or this the track
Taken.
What lies beyond the hill?
And these hours
That we pass and kill,
Seem dauntless
As night comes in.
Under winter moon and snow,
And passing
As we go,
The embers of lovers past:
Alive still,
Amongst the graves of dreams
Not kept,
Tidy,
For the heart to lull;
A memory deep,
Its tender strings
To pull...



Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE PHOTO OF TOMMY DEVLIN


Ursula, Bridey, Anna and Claire,
and old Tommy Devlin
sitting there.
Under that single light,
the old times
are but a word away.
Today, tonight,
we're heading
your way...

- - - - -

THE O'NEIL STREET BOMB


My last words,
across the glass strewn street:
remember to see your mother
a'fore yer go...
And then seeing you
walking hand in hand,
with the Lady of Lourdes,
uttering not a sound,
not a word...

- - - - -

COMING HOME


I did not notice the Calf of Man
or anything in particular.
That day,
coming home...
leaving Belfast in turmoil;
and you,
lying low,
under the black Irish
soil...



Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LILY


A faded photograph.
Minehead, 1977.
You are smiling.
Your daughter,
my wife,
is wearing your earrings.
You sit together,
at a table in a bar.
Your eyes tell a story:
a life to be,
cut short.
This was your last summer.
And there,
by the Somerset sea,
your last photograph together.

Time moves on:
a life mapped out,
of separation and grief.
She still keeps your wedding ring,
and I the realisation,
my time with you
too brief.



Jarvo 2014

Posted by: Bennie (1297)  Report abuse
Who knows how you'd fell about your mother in law if she'd lived another 30 or 40 years, Jarvo?

Posted by: Bennie (1297)  Report abuse
Sentiment and love frozen in time are precious jewels that never fade.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Bennie:

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SIX MONTHS


They gave you six months.
You gave them two fingers.
I chose a strange song
That needed two singers.

You slept in pain.
I slept with the light on.
I ate my supper.
You couldn't eat one.

I endured the road race.
You endured Chemotherapy.
I went to London.
You went to the mortuary.

Your girl is weeping.
Mine looks on in sorrow.
I catch a train.
They bury you tomorrow...


Jarvo

For Joe

Goodnight and God bless.

R.I.P.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE SINKING SAND


As a child,
I feared the sinking sand.
That day,
on Morecambe Bay,
with the wind at our backs,
we warily tread
over bridges that led,
to dry land at the edge of the sea.

Planting our flags,
we stole starfish
and counted the cockles in cups.

Today,
I no longer fear the sand.
But I take you,
barefoot,
hand in hand
across the deepening pools,
my eye on the tide
like a ferryman...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: madamehmurray (5905)   Report abuse
God are you there?
I have been searching for you
Can you hear me?
I want to talk with you
Please, please God hear me?
I want to listen
my will is important
Why sre you not hearing me??

The lord said I don't know you
Do you not put me first.?
I died for you
You didn't seek me
and draw close to me

I studied my bible and put him first
His will not mine will be done
I go where he goes
Now I am a child of GOd

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SUDDENLY


Suddenly,
half price;
the time is right...
Kiss me.
I might die tonight...


Jarvo 2014

For Theresa

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S LUNCH


Club sandwich in a basket;
pork pie,
high in the sky.
The seagulls grapple,
over a big red apple...

...but they
fluster,
over the taste of mustard;
he laughs at the sight,
eating his cake and
custard...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ALONG THE MAY LANE


Along the lane
spring has covered the trees.
The white hedgerow
blossoms,
the flowers unmistakeable,
and the dog roses
spring from the grass.

How many years have passed?
And nothing, it seems, has changed.
Only the new grave stones
that line the cemetery wall.

I pick a white flower;
plucking away its immortality.
It will bloom again,
when the cycle runs its circle.
Unlike death,
that steals away the sweethearts
and buries them
deep in the earth.


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LONDON IN SPRING


It's got through.
And we go on the fifth.
Only the weather
now stands between us
and Europe,

adrift,
in the dark years...

We go early hours,
over the channel sea;
we'll meet again,
in the Green Park, west of Berlin,
you and me...


Jarvo 20014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE CORINTHIAN


They've taken away the tables and chairs,
but the sun still peeps through.
Across town,
they're packing them in
at the Moon
that drowned under water.

History now,
at the brave Corinthian.
Only the whispers remain
when I pass by,
looking again
over my shoulder...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
NIGHT MUSIC


This is my sixth attempt,
to capture
how it felt,

in that other room
with the door slightly
ajar.

Too far
now, the bottles are empty;
and I no longer listen

to your night music...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Time this crap was given the boot. I see your best buddy is taking thread after thread off. Are you not embarassed at all?

Posted by: kryten (inactive) Report abuse
Bring on the rosy-cheeked girls
The smiling ones, the light-footed dancers,
Those that sing with their eyes,
Those with the warm breasts and soft hands,
Those that look deep in the eyes,
Not at the garbage of garb.
Bring on the dark, the fair, the brown as a berry,
Bring them all on with their wet laughing mouths,
The fat, the thin, the short, and the lanky,
But let them be filled of life as a pod with peas,
Let them feel as company comfortable as an old friendly jacket,
young or old,
And most of all . . . let them be merry.

And then take all the others,
All the tight-lipped, crab-faced, mewling, mithering,
Niggardly, sour-faced, crab-mouthed,
Cold-titted, tight-arced, moaning,
Sullen, frozen-legs-together,
Money-grubbing bitches, and
Take them and heap them together
On some blear and dreary moor
In the howling sleet
And moaning drizzle of November. . . and leave them there,
For it deserves them And they each other.

Then bring on the lads,
The smiling lads,
The open-handed, shoulder-to-the-wheel lads,
Lame dogs helped over stiles lads,
Take a pint, stand a corner lads,
Good laughing lads,
Lads with a quart of life in their hands
And eyes that look straight . . .
Bring on the tall, the short, the long,
The runners, the walkers,
Those that can hammer, those that can turn out a song
Bring on the fat, the thin, the bald and the hairy,
Young or old,
So long as they sup life by the gallon . . .
So long as theyre merry.

Then take all the others,
The sly-eyed, twisty-mouthed grabbers and fumblers,
The shifty-faced, two-tongued, leadswinging lizards,
The snotty-nosed, mardy-arsed bullies
And false friends . . .
And stick them up to their necks
In the foulest stink-pot of an old bog
You can find . . . head down . ..
And leave them there.

But for God's sake not too near
That moor with all the old whores . . .
If they meet up and breed
We're all buggered.


Mike Harding.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HANGOVER


So much for the pint of water
drunk at 3.30am.
It will make the fairies come
and give you sugar cubes,
said the drunken lady
struggling to take off her shoes...

And then we both fell asleep.

The fairies came
at the break of dawn;
with their hammers and chisels
on the front lawn.

I awoke to find,
the lady had gone...
leaving me behind with her
hangover...


Jarvo 20014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE PARTING

From The House At Pooh Corner


And Christopher Robin
spoke to Pooh:

I must go now.
Remember me, old friend.

And when you hear Owl
as the moon strikes midnight,

the grass will shed a silent
tear...

And Pooh looked up,
with fixed eyes:

I will never forget you;
never, until the end of time...

And then the friends parted
leaving the sky

a wide sheet of blue
dotted with cotton wool clouds.

Across the field, by the green wood,
lay the ash laden track

that wound its way home
to Pooh Corner...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LAST TIME I SAW BRIAN


He played the Pipes of Pan
down in the tube station
at Leicester Square.

I was there,
I tell you...
I was there...

And then
the wind blew warm from the west;
and they took him, and laid him to rest.

I was there,
I tell you...
I was there...


Jarvo 2014

For Brian Jones

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LUCKY YOU


Here it is:
my house...
My beautiful daughter
stands under the weeping willow.

Look! Number twelve...
Nice place, eh?
Nice of you to drop by.
Follow the road round, right...

Right, I thought;
such material matters.
But the girl?
I've seen her before:

under the weeping willow,
some 30 years ago.
Ah, his wife,
I knew...

Nice house, lovely girl...
Lucky you.


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ALBANY


In my dream,
we are reunited.
And what seems a lifetime
sweeps by.

Under the bridge by the cemetery ,
you bite into a red apple.
It is getting dusk,
and part we must.

Under the climbing moon,
the cruel night comes on...
I pass the house where we lived
on my way back home...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
1981


It was the year of the great love affair:
we were there,
when they lingered on the
steps of St Paul's.

I knew it wouldn't last,
and I was right.
It was the year of the riots
when Liverpool burned.

Funny how you remember,
these things from history:
a public holiday,
and public grief.

Today there are giants
and Liverpool One.
Charles ages gracefully,
but Di has gone.

Love eludes the best
and death takes its share.
I still remember that kiss,
we were there...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
God! Talk about liking the sound of ones own voice!

Posted by: Bennie (1297)  Report abuse
Do you ever come out of the pub and post a positive comment ?
Relocate to a milk bar snuffy.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Bennie:

Posted by: walter (7025) Report abuse
Ah,now I understand the cause of jarvo's issues

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Keep off my Poem thread, old timer...

You're not as smart as you think you are...

Posted by: walter (7025) Report abuse
You see jarvo,that's your problem

I may not be as smart as I thinkI am but I'm smarter than you think I am

"Old Timer"

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Don't bring it into disrepute.

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
"Keep off my Poem thread,"

HAHAHAHA

Ive told you before Jarvo, don't tell people where they can post.

Posted by: paul mcnamara (1062)   Report abuse
My poem thread ha ha ha ha!!! take it home then like your ball...

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
Bennie. Why do you CONSTANTLY defend jarvo? The vast majority on here see him for what he is.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ACS: Bennie has met me.

Nuff said.

Posted by: chatty (5032)  Report abuse

Sunday Nites Poets Corner...

There was a poster called jarvo
Who came across full of bravado
But when it came to the crunch
I had an hunch
He was just a big soft Mardo!

Chatty 2014

Posted by: paul mcnamara (1062)   Report abuse
best poem on here...

Posted by: chatty (5032)  Report abuse
Just to qualify jarvs, Mardo

Posted by: fossil (6559) Report abuse
@chatty,

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Poems only, please.

Thank you.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
WAR AND PEACE


So short,
the war to end all wars.
And the gentle peace that followed:

No death camps,
just the reality
of things lost:

A gold wedding ring;
a tooth in white tissue.
And a book named trust...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE RAIN HAS WASHED AWAY THE DEAD


No more
do I see reflections from the past,
and scripts from what I did, thought
and said.
The moon as failed to show,
and the rain has washed
away the dead.


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: bassman (3519) Report abuse
Love your poetry as much as you love Rugby League.....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CHERRY LANE


I have been here before;
to such places,
by memory
and by fate.
And to here,
I come to find
something long mislaid.
I hesitate,
wondering which road to take:
under the cherry trees
following
in her footsteps...



Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CHAPEL STREET


I never took the tunnel,
that led to the fields,
instead,
I sat for hours
watching the Shires,
in the far meadow.
And,
in the summer
of the six day war,
we congregated there,
in the long afternoons.
And then Bobby got shot:
in the heat of'68,
before we did
the Vietnam war,
and Astral Weeks
came out on LP.

So why do you ask
of the things that inspire?
You really should
have been there...
In the street without a chapel;
a special place set apart,
that wound its way
through
a young man's heart...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SUMMER IN NEW YORK (2010)


It was brief;
and only the strains of Mister Softee
coming from across the river,
made me think about you.

Such a simple tune:
strange now,
that such gentleness, could harbour
such sadness...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
What utter tosh. A 5 year old could do better!!!!

Posted by: Bennie (1297)  Report abuse
Not knocking you Broad but I don't think you have an ear for poetry.
I think he's rather good.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Bennie,
So is Rugby League but that doesn't stop the Ignoramus from being derogatory about the game all the time. I think they call it pay back time!!

You are correct in that I have neither the ear nor the time for poetry. A term of Browning was enough to kill me off for ever. It doesn't even rhyme.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LONGER DAYS


It's been a long time,
she said;

and the rivers
have run their course.

Here,
on the dry earth,

I am setting out for the desert,
and solitude.

I see you,
just as the sun sets in the hills;

daring to drag me back,
and lead me in your merry dance...

The wind as freshened
and the rain will

rise the rivers from the dead.
A summer gone:

and longer days
coming on...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
DRACULA, IN AUGUST


Appearing from the shadows and dressed in black,
you'll see him on the platform
in DM boots and winter mac.
Dracula,
with his lunch bag,
and peaked cap;
catching the 8.57 to Wigan
and back...


Jarvo 2014



For John Moss

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LAST KISS


Kiss me,
I said...
Before you go back to prison.
No,
you replied...
It's you that's sending me back.

And so I sent you away,
back to your familiar rooms.
Four years on,
God, how the days roll...
You in your wallpapered cell,
with no chance of parole...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE AFTERTHOUGHT


I always thought,
afterwards.

And in between,
in the twilight hours,

love went begging.
Too late to say sorry;

a word we never used:
unfashionable,

insincere,
an afterthought...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
wednesdays are silent
no calls from you
but we still talk
I can hear your voice
as clear as before
never good bye....

for Eileen.....💚x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lovely verse, Lizzie.

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
Thank you Jarvo....really miss her...was glad I went to her funeral and met the family she had talked so much about....and yes they did play....'Come on Eileen'.....by Dexie's Midnight Runners...think that is the group.....then 'Unchained Melody' from the movie 'Ghost'....she is back with her husband Brian....that is where she wanted to be....

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
I FORGOT


Memories,
they have a way of creeping up on you.
But when you go searching for them,
they choose to sleep.

I met an old friend today,
after years away.
She remembered the things that I'd forgotten;
but some things I still chose to remember,

like the nights spent alone
in that wretched September.
But the special things that I thought I had not,
she reminded me that I'd forgot...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
Is someone partaking of hallucinogenic substances on a semi regular basis?

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THIRTY FIVE MILLION MILES AWAY


I've left you a note:
(It's under the Pathfinder's lower casing.)

I've headed south,
towards the snow;
I can't stand the storms
anymore.
There's food for a week,
but that's about it.
You'll have to figure it out,
if you can hack it...

Follow when you can
and keep to the roads.
It's good on the pole,
at night you can see the stars
on the south westerly zone;
and when it's crisp and clear,
the blue apple planet
that we used to call home...

Love,
J.


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
Substance abuse without a doubt.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Study it, asshole. And then do a 500 word essay on tone, symbolism, and form.

Have you deciphered it yet?

You absolute buffoon.

I haven't the heart to wish you goodnight.

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
Posted by a guy who claims to have never insulted anyone on here. LOL.



And then do a 500 word essay on tone, symbolism, and form.



Did you learn that on your thirty bob poetry college course?




You absolute buffoon.





This "absolute buffoon" Will be doing whatever he want's whenever he want's...






While you are on your lathe.





Now be quiet and go to bed.



Fool.

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
I concede, not much tone, but a tad of symbolism and form dontya think?



It came back to me... I did it at school 40 plus year ago.



Did you think it was a new concept?

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse
Oh look, that insulting others that Jarvo never does......

Posted by: gemfree (inactive) Report abuse
Fish must have closed early..........

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse
The landlords work was not in vain as Jarvos pint pot drains again.....

See, i'm a poet and I didn't know it!

Posted by: gemfree (inactive) Report abuse
The pint pot drains again mutters Jarvo's softened brain...

He must away to Wigan World as the members post again and again...

He mutters they post some crap, as someone else posts he needs a slap...

He rants and raves in vain...in vain....

Posted by: lizziedownunder (6020)  Report abuse
....beautiful words Jarvo....thank you for sharing your lovely poems... 😊👍 x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Lizzie: And yours, too.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SAIL ON
(Mary's Song)


Sail on,
from the Cromarty Firth.
Sail on,
to the four corners
of the earth.
Take with you
what you must.
But be back
when the fields
yield the yellow corn.
And when the harvest
is lit by the orange moon,
walk back into this tiny room,
and tell your tales
of that southern sea;
the ones that you always
tell to
me...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse
Gemfree, a true talent you have for poetry.

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse
Gemfree, a true talent you have for poetry.

Posted by: madamehmurray (5905)   Report abuse
Eight years gone by

You came into my life
My heart became yours

our eyes met together
and never were apart

As the years went by
our love got stronger

No matter what
we made it through

I love you, still
The love of mine


Posted by: gemfree (inactive) Report abuse
lovely Erin

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
GEORGE GALLOWAY IS HERE


Kilroy has gone.
Now George Galloway is here.

So it said
on the bog wall
of the Baghdad Roxy.

Believe me if you must,
and do not take offence.
The boy from Dundee

done good...

He walks the bazaars
a free man.

Understood?


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
IF MUSIC BE...


the food of lovers...

then, I am long deaf.
Or,

maybe I am deceived.
Either way,

this tune has reached my ears,
and I feast in the darkness.

At dawn,
I am drunk by the fineries of love:

My time has come.
Let it play on...


Jarvo 2014


Then play on...

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE THEFT


Let it be said
that what was lost
she stole from me.

Misgivings
and little things;
and oddities

in a cardboard box.
They mean nothing:
let them hang

from her parlour window.
They will be stolen again,
by others

passing by...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ALVIN STARDUST IS DEAD


Alvin Stardust is dead,
they said.

A rock and roll legend,
I heard mentioned.

He had a quiff,
said the man with the spliff.

I just tuned into FM,
and then it came on again:

"Alvin Stardust has passed away"
I heard the DJ say.

Alvin Stardust, R.I.P...
meant absolutely nothing to me...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: xxstuartxx (5705) Report abuse
Utter drivel, in fact, its not that good.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
I love you, Stu the Pooh...

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
100% correct xxstuartxx. He makes more sense talking about Rugby.

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Sd is reet what he says.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
QUEBEC


The Ladybird took us there,
to the heart of Quebec.
The timber we left
on board,

and down in the snowy streets
we poured
the forgotten wine
into a thousand glasses.

Ah,
Quebec...
in the North lands,
with the Christmas lights

shining bright,
and the snow falling,
turning the grey day
into night...

And the North Star lost,
its eye blind to the sun.
With the darkest winter
just begun...


Jarvo 2014


For Emile Nelligan

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SALON TALK

Saturday,15th April, 1989

He asked about where I worked,
and what I did.
His comb and scissors clipping.
The clock on the wall
ticking its way past
3pm.

Then,
someone said:
what's that on the tele?
A news flash...
I asked:
have they stopped the game?

There are some people on the pitch;
a stretcher,
a face, anguished,
and in pain.
Then,
it was all over...

I remember,
you came home late,
just after the full time scores
were coming in.
I asked: have you heard?
Heard what? you replied...

The game,
the semi-final,
the fans...
some have died...
Then the tears flowed,
and our talk slowed,

to silence...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SISTER ROSE AT THE ALTAR


Let them marry,
she thought,
their minds as one
on this November afternoon,
as the Catholic girls gather

by the steps outside.
At one hour past noon,
she follows the unblushing bride
into the autumn light.
Too late now; she had no choice:

but her thoughts are elsewhere,
and she still hears that familiar voice,
putting the Convent girls
in their place,
at the altar...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
AIR RAID, 1965


At eleven clock,
I put down my book.

Henry the Eighth.
And Good Queen Bess.

Then came the sound of Manchester
at the beginning of the Blitz...

They'd warned us:
the teachers,

saying:
"Don't be alarmed; it's only pretend."

And then the eerie sound,
came from the air,

filling the playground
empty and bare...

A thousand nightmares
of monsters and men:

the beginnings, the middles,
and the end.

And then the all-clear
down the dark corridor.

Reminding us to remember,
the second world war...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE OLD WAY BACK


Cloudless night gone,
I take the path chosen.
With the full moon under water,
I quarter
the long way home.
Over fields of blanket snow,
I go
by the old way back;
along the Lancashire and Yorkshire
across the old track...


Jarvo 2014

Happy Christmas, Work Is Over.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
A BRANDY SONG


That one,
the one about Joan of Arc.
We played it till death;
the brandy glasses
full to the brim.
No ice,
just the rain
coming off the hill,
soaked us through
to the skin.

I awoke
in my clothes.
As sodden as the night
gone.
And that song in my head,
the day long...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
FIFTY YEARS AGO


Our tree still flickered:
the post Christmas days
like now
were then...
And the news filtering in:
a baby girl
is born today
in Bethlehem...


Jarvo 2014

Posted by: bassman (3519) Report abuse
Jarvo stood on the burning deck
Eating a 3d Walls
The bloody thing came off the stick
And fossilised his b.....rain.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
It's too complicated for you, Jack...

Posted by: bassman (3519) Report abuse
Tha mit bi reet theer J.......I'm only a WIGGINER.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
IBROX


I shouted her name.
But the rain
fell like tears.

66 times,
over and over again,
on the floodlit steps.

Then,
someone grabbed my hand...
I went back later,

and found her shoes:
side by side,
as if new.

There were others,
shoes, boots,
stacked six feet high;

in a floodlit grave
under a black Glasgow sky...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Keep up the good work for 2015, jarvo.

Basil brush 2015.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Cheers, BB.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TEA AND ORANGES


I didn't want to say this,
but my lovers never
sent me
tea and oranges.

No,
it was more complicated than that.
I followed all the rules,
but needless to say,
they all got away....

Yes,
they all got away...



Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
IT'S GETTING LATE


It's getting late,
and the hour is upon us.
Let the ghosts come forward
and show us their hand.

Everywhere,
the good people sleep,
and the damned
are damned...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jathbee (8069) Report abuse
nighty night.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE WINTER LONG


I still have the green soap
boxed in white tissue.
Its scent has long faded:

and through the years
and the summer days,
it was sealed up and never used.

And now, this winter,
so long in its own darkness,
brings me back to the river.

You are not there to meet me.
Let the box stay sealed
for another year.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE WHIT WALK (1964)


Elvis is dead.
It's true. Fabian, Phil and Don
have moved on too.
And as my Convent girls go walking past,
I knew those Teddy Boys couldn't last.
The quiffs have been combed forward
washed and dried;
and Mary O'Hara could have died...
She's wearing her cosy, flat, indoor shoes
after saying goodbye to her G.I. Blues.
And now she's wanting those lads in their suits;
all cheeky grins and Chelsea Boots.
Take care, you girls,
on that corner;
Josephine Flanagan and Elizabeth Armour...
Come on, come on,
let's have some smiles;
on this lovely Monday as we walk these miles.
My girls are the toast:
all milk and butter.
I heard that, Maureen Rutter!
Above the band at the end of the street,
I can hear their music, the Merseybeat.
And soon they'll be able to take off their gloves,
my beloved girls, my little doves.
Ladies sooner than a blink of my eye;
but forever my girls,
till the day I die.
Chins up, quick, quick, we're almost there;
I can hear the noise from
the Market Square.
My Convent girls,
the world is yours, go out and be free...

But always think back
and remember me...


Jarvo 2015

A Song, For Whit Monday, 1964...


For Miss Robson...Wherever she may be.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LITTLE BOOK OF QUOTATIONS


On page 42,
the one about a good friend,
who helps to move a body...

It's still there,
in the little book of quotations,
that I kept for posterity.

She censored it, of course,
and ripped out your postscript.
But it's still here,

the little book
with the grinning bloke
winking on the cover.

Funny...

it's as if nothing ever happened
between us...
Nothing at all.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
AFTER THE GOLDRUSH


It's raining outside,
but I catch a glimpse

of a reflection
that once was me.

Good times, bad times,
no times...

Where is that happiness
that I didn't really know?

Now the mine is empty-
was it always so?


Jarvo 2015

For N.Y.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HOME


Day's ending
and remembering
from a distance

the walks at dusk:
just over the hill
the fires still burning

and the
voices of home
calling me back...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE WHISPERS


I heard the whispers.
And thought:

somewhere,
there is a place for us...

In the West side of town,
someone sits in an empty caf.

Outside,
the rain is relentless,

and the wind whispers
its empty promises...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
STAR WATCH


I watch the stars:
they fall,
effortlessly,
into my pocket.

Such treasures
to have and to hold,
in the doubt and the darkness,
distant and bright.

Unlike love,
that I cannot see tonight;
it is as remote
as it ever was, or will be.

The stars intrigue me:
such distances,
in the cold
night of space.

But they are mine to touch:
I reach to pick them;
each planet with its own
crescent moon.

I can have any star that I want,
unlike the lovers - who trip
and tumble,
slipping carelessly

through the black hole in my
pocket...



Jarvo 2015

Dedicated to the Fifth Dimension.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE FLOWERS


They brought her flowers.
In baskets,
and in coloured
vases.

Such thoughts,
written in blue and black ink.
Ten years on,
and another Sunday in March passes by.

On one special card
it read:
You gave me my wings,
and taught me how to fly...

We fly,
all of us,
through rainy days
and endless nights.

Our journeys,
poorer
for our loss...


Jarvo 2015 xxx

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE BLACK COUNTRY


For the first time on electric rails
I go beyond the empty yards of Crewe South.
Here,
the hills are low, and the trees thin
to pale hedges.
There is a new moon; it hides
behind gathering clouds;
a thin lip between the branches
of November trees.
The bridges and taverns pass,
and country roads disappear into the gloom.
I am further from home than I have ever been,
travelling at speed between
foundries and factories.
The rain will not dampen this day;
for this first touch
and breath of air.
Down the high embankment
the estates appear -
we are almost there!
The streets are wet with rain
and the canals locked and drained.
The train slows,
taking the wide curve.
A watery sun is welcome
as the rain ceases to a drizzle.
Beneath the high level
the road goes east
to Molineux Hill.
In the distance,
the tall lights burn like lanterns
illuminating the dark afternoon.
Later,
we are soaked in rain,
climbing the hill,
wondering when we can come back here
again...



Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE MIDNIGHT LAMP


So low burns now the midnight light
To put the ancient phantoms to flight
And to shade the misery of want
To the souls of longing that can't

Sleep with morals of high esteem
And tread favoured roads never seen
The eternal light in the darkness of time
To each soul a day of love assign.


Jarvo 2015

For W.W.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
EASTER


You made me remember,
a time
of unbroken promises,
unclouded thoughts,
and words
that bore no malice.

In that afternoon
when darkness
touched briefly
two lives,
the spirit passed us by.

I still wait,
now touched by another hand,
every year on that hill,
to pick up the broken pieces
and clear the road ahead.

From the summit
trees have grown
blocking out the sea.

I cannot see our ship on the horizon,
and there is no redemption
for me...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
AMSTERDAM


Half light
down by the water,

I saw you walking
with your daughter-

in green leather coat
by the railings.

Give me a sign
to say it's really you...

Then wake me from my dreams
like you used to do...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
11TH AUGUST 1968


Time's up.
The field beckons me homeward.
Footsteps down the lane,
as you walk away alone.

The evening draws in.
And the fifteen guinea special
heads for home.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
45015
(8A)


Tenderless,
you stand at the end road,
in between
the high weeds
and the burdock.

A chance meeting,
here,
where the salty sea air
blows in from the west.

You were not destined for this:
lined black,
you simmered in the spring sun;
your duties done,
at rest.

It's over now;
the semaphores have gone
and the cutter's torch
got you in the end.

Goodbye, goodbye,
old friend.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

"This one is relatively new by our standards...A bit different. See what ya think..."

(Roger Waters, February, 1972)


It carries me this;
the Free Trade Hall,
February, 1972:
a total eclipse.

Outside,
they were selling
pirate programmes
to the uninitiated.

I had the honour
of being one of the first
to hear that tune:

of what became the dark side,
the dark side of the moon...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE SWANS ARE ON THE LAKE


It's getting late.
Already,
they're locking
the gates.

I can't wait
any longer.

I've returned the key;
you took what you wanted,
leaving nothing
to chance.

Sometimes,
these things work:
and other times, get trampled
in the dirt.

Take heed,
when you go,
but leave what has passed
to fate...

Tonight, Venus opposes the moon,
and the swans are on the lake.



Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LATE IN THE EVENING


In the bar
the cold weather has brought
people in from the street.

Familiar faces;
but you are not amongst them.
Somewhere,

you are drinking in similar surroundings;
maybe only ten minutes from here.
Every week, our lives run parallel-

at this hour,
at this time,
late in the evening...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
BRIEF ENCOUNTER
(Walkden, 1975)


I hold you, close to my chest.
In the moonlight, in your new white bonnet.
My new born love,
I wish I could take you home.

It was cold that winter,
holding you, my sweet love,
in my long over coat,
on the cold station steps.

Leaving was hard
on two lives broken;
but I kept my distance
and left words unspoken

Yesterday, I passed through again,
saw the main street, that climbs the hill.
I wonder what we'd do
if I bumped into you?

A woman now,
would you stop and talk?
Forty years past
and forty years gone.

My first born love,
I would still take you home...


Jarvo 2015

For L.R. and S.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE FOURTH SHIP


And then, coming in strong,
the fourth ship appeared.
Just by the fort,
showing her starboard quarter.
She bore the markings of a war ship:
scarred, rusted, and taking on water.

She went undetected, sliding past the Pier Head;
decks empty, through the Mersey gate;
down the estuary's edge,
coming home
ghostly silent,
seventy years late...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SKINHEAD GIRL


Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah...(As in Symarip's Skinhead Moonstomp)

On High Level platform,
in Wolverhampton,
waiting for me...
waiting for me...
The lovely, lovely, Julieee,
In Wolverhampton,
in nineteen seventy...
in nineteen seventy...

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah...



For Julie Driscoll


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
[Max Romeo...


Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
YOUR GHOST HAD FOLLOWED THE PATHWAYS


When the evening brook flowed freely,
And the rain had took its course;
I sensed you presence near me,
And a greater holier force.

And though the crescent moon was sleeping,
And the night but covered the land;
I thought I heard you weeping,
At the place where I did stand.

Under the ancient oak tree,
Where we had sat in happier days;
I saw the mystic barn owl,
And met his curious gaze.

Your ghost had followed the pathways,
That I did wearily tread;
As if to comfort and tell me,
That you lived and were not dead.

But looking over my shoulder,
Your footfalls were all but none;
And I had grown much older,
And you were dead and gone...


Jarvo 2015


For Bonnie Frobisher x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ON DISCOVERING THE LINNET'S NEST


The blossom of summer came early that year,
When the May Queen sat upon her throne of flowers;
And in the privet and hedgerow there,
The Linnet whiled away the hours.

And so forth a nest of such simple beauty,
Caught our eyes in the fading light;
The mother bird and nature's duty,
Safe and at one for the coming night.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LOVE TALK


So long this silence,
and the trees have gone green.
The grass grows over bare patches,
and the purple flowers are seen.

So long now,
since you planted the apple tree;
its shadow
cast cool at midday.

This silence,
broken only now
by asking,
and not knowing what to say...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LOVELIEST OF TREES, THE APPLE


Soon,
the red apples
will appear
and then fall from grace.

A bucketful of cider,
or apple wine to taste?

So lovely,
this tree that blots out the sun;
seems only yesterday
that you planted one...


Jarvo 2015

For C.

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
Posted by: jarvo (23319) View jarvo's page10,000+ Report abuse

ACS: Yes, and that's my point.

All this 'caring' shite it what it is: SHITE!

Just a cunning way of lazy b------s getting away with it caring for elderly relatives and claiming for anything that drops through the door.

It's a national scandal. Make the lazy buggers sweep the streets.

Replied: 3rd Jul 2015 at 18:16
Last edited by jarvo: 3rd Jul 2015 at 18:17:28

Ode to jarvo

Up in the morning out to work
The little man doth go
Earning a crust and some jam
And money to pay for more

Up at the crack of sparrow fart
The carer lovingly does their bit
Man wife child it matters not
There isn't a pay day for it

Jarvo dont like carers
He says they should sweep the street
Oh to be able to have a job
And money to have a good neet

{but not in the Fishergate in Pemberton}

Poor Jarvos life's so boring
His poems are a farce
For carers life is precious
So he can stick his brush up his{insert, pardon the pun, your own word}

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
jarvo (23334) View jarvo's page10,000+ Report abuse

I know a fellah who has carers 7 days a week. He's supposed to be disabled and cannot use his hands. When the afternoon shift go off, there is a 15 minute gap: he then jumps into his 'mobility' car, and speeds to the off license for his ale and ciggies...

True story.

The fiddlin' b-----d!



Replied: 2nd Jul 2015 at 19:12
Last edited by jarvo: 2nd Jul 2015 at 19:13:36


Ode 2 to Jarvo

Bollocks to the carers
Jarvos alright thanks
He got a job and his health
And watches telly when he wants

Maybe he should be taken down
Just a peg or two
When his hands no longer work
Who'll wipe his a*** of poo

Dont all rush at once now.

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Eront youve got a gift for poetry, which is more than Jarvo has

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
By Jarvo
"I dread to think that I'd want to be cared for by any bugger."..

"I'd put a revolver to my head if I stooped that low"


He needs no help from any "bugger"

He wouldn't "stoop that low"

Bugger, I wouldn't give him the time of day

But I would pass the Webley though

Just out of interest can one stoop lower than a snakes belly.

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Eront, your on a roll

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
W.H AUDEN ON HARROW HILL


And I said to him:
Which way to the land of lost content?

That's Housman, he said,
And not my cup of char...

So I caught the 13.40 to Worcester,
That is ultimately slower by car...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
WATCHING THE MOON


I remember the room:
sun drenched in the afternoon,
but full of horrors at night.

The flickering of the modem light
and counting the hours before dawn.
Our lines were drawn:

survive and stick it out;
or go and end all doubt.
I stayed and found myself watching the night sky:

Venus, and watching the moon, bright, up high.
Until morning came and cleansed all my dreams.
And nothing that was, was as it seemed.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
BLUE MOON


Under the bluest of moons
I heard a tune
not heard for forty years.

Skipping home
in the warmth of the summer rain
after too many beers...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THIS ENGLAND


Kebab House playing Turkish
disco mush...
Shush,
the baby's being showered
by gifts...
The if's
and but's
and ice bucket mentality.
Really?
A book of faces
and Kylie at the
races.
Mad dogs and Englishmen
go out on a beach in the sun;
a red blood cocktail
and a lunatic with a gun:



A silent train
where it is forbidden to speak:
but the girl types texts to the
the fellah in the next seat.
Politically correct,
you are:
Yes...with Halal meat
and not one cockney
on Oxford Street.
The Poles of the North
raking it in:
24/7
and zero hours contract.
It's a fact,
it's better here than
the Russian Front.
An only the French
keep their distance...
Across the straits,
sniffer dogs
and an electric fence...
Stop!
This is England -
isn't it?
Keep out! I hear a nation shout.

* * * *

Berlin: 1945
the fall of the Third Reich...
A true Englishman
re-crosses the Rhine,
going back home to roses
and wine...

His England
free and alive
and waving goodbye
to the last G.I's.

Seventy years on,
Whitehall, London:
the last man standing,
with tears in his eyes...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
The ultimate Narcissist.

Posted by: gemfree (inactive) Report abuse

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
You still got one of my poems hung on your office wall, Gembo?

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
PATRICIA


I wonder what became of you?
Sunglasses,
Ford Pop,
and flowers in your hair...

They say that if you can remember,
you weren't actually there.

That's not really true,
because I still remember you:

English rose
forever my number one -
sorting out the boys and
quoting Shakespeare in the sun...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
I Hate Poems
I try to write a poem,
but poems are too hard
Rhyming is for losers
and airy-fairy bards

To put a pen to paper
and write about your life
I've had enough of all of those,
they only cause me strife

Free-verse script is awful,
for fools without a beat
Repetition's far too simple
just repeat, repeat, REPEAT

Those lovey-dovey ode-things,
that wishy-washy crap
And poems about hatred,
you all deserve a slap

Spare me all your ramblings,
I don't care how you feel
Your self-expression surely stinks
of mouldy day-old eel

To tell a tale of wonder
never ceases to be trite
To sing of magic wonders
is nothing but pure sh*te

Your metaphors are useless,
your imagery is vile
Your sense of diction makes me gag,
I cannot stand your "style"

So save me your quotations,
please spare me all your rhyme
Shove that poem up your rear
and cease to waste my time


Jasper Sole

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TURNING POINT


At last,
a way forward:

the enemy
is in full retreat.

Let us meet,
then,

like we
promised.

We'll wear carnations,
blood red...

Or maybe white ones,
instead.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SPARROWHAWK


Cold blooded,
killer.
You broke my heart.
Twice,
you shot her down.
Baby bird,
hot on the tiles;
I smiled
when you came round.
Flying to the trees,
you were free
to chance again.
Song unsung,
you went then,
for home.
Cold blooded
killer,I forgot -
a second shot,
straight to the
heart.
And the blood
and the bleeding
of two
torn apart...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LISTEN, LISTEN


Listen,
it is too late to trespass
or steal,
the midnight moon
is quick at your heel.

Far from the sea,
yet
washed ashore,
the past still lands
at your door.

Listen, listen,
the future is coming up the lane to set you
free...
You,
yourself, me.


- - - - - - - -


FRIDAY NIGHT


You can tell it's Friday,
the folk who
barely raise a smile,
are laughing
under the moon.

The fish are swimming downstream -
and all is well.
It's Friday night,
can't you tell?


Jarvo 2015

A study for Sixth Form students: the first poem has a theme of revelation and release. The past is symbolised by the sea, with the present as the moon. The future appears by chance, but isn't clearly defined. The past still returns as the tide. Then, the lane promises hope as the future subconsciously, and inaudible, comes as a release from the past. The poet refers to himself as someone else, but is 'me' as he is optimistic by the coming of the future.

The second poem refers to the shallowness of humanity. The fish, or what is left of them, escape downstream; the moon, symbolises human frailty and possible madness. Friday night comes as a relief from the rigours of modern life, but is temporary in the general scheme of things. The fish are a sacrifice, to be eaten in the shallow waters of life, but in this case, on Friday nights only.

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
This was written by an old boyfriend

Your eyes are like the sea and I am the sun shining on them
They are dark and serious but their innocence asks always in the quiet skies and waters and then floods over me in an awful beauty I have never felt before.

With you I think I would seek my death by drowning
I am a worshiper before a shrine
But the shrine is the offering
And the offering is the eyes of the lame stray dog before the man with the whip.

Then the wind changes, ripples are cast over the surface and the depths are hidden
And the sea laughs gently and forever
And the sun laughs at its reflection dancing on the water

David Lord
1966

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
David Lord?

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
That's who wrote it. I'm sure there are many David Lords in the UK and he wasn't from Wigan.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HELEN


Lip service
it never was.
On the contrary,
I missed you in the dark.

Watching Alice Cooper,
I see someone, with red hair,
under the pink lights.
And I knew, it was you.

The last train to London,
has departed.
And the dark is as dark
as it ever was...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SEPTEMBER SKY


Morning dew
and the night lights
still bright.
You rise by touch,
of finger
and sight,
unaware
of sound or song.

This time will pass:
in the warmth of
afternoons long,
and then cool
in the dark wood.

I understand now;
a beating heart captured
watching you
sleep as the September sky
turns
a darker
blue.




Jarvo 2015 x

For S.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LATE IN THE AFTERNOON


It was late in the afternoon;
what had passed was
gone.

Out of all those rough diamonds
yours was the one that
shone.

It was lost now,
thrown away too
soon.

What had passed was gone;
it was late in the
afternoon.


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE ROAD HOME


The road home
ran slowly
through thickets
that drew blood.
It ran cobbled
then smooth
when the going
was good.
It crossed rivers
of deep water
and over bridges
and brook.
And twisted
and turned
at the corners
I took.
It drew me homeward
over the days
and the nights.
And was lit
by lanterns
in the fading light.
At end of the road
was an open door
With no key to enter
anymore.
A journey over
despite the tears,
and time to
make up
for those
missing years...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
CLAIR de LUNE


The moths are in the mist
and the damp web drips the dew.

Where are you,
Clair de Lune?

Not on this night,
as the bride waits for the groom.

You hide,
your thin lips avoiding me.

As the night takes,
and the dawn breaks,

I stand here alone,
beneath the mourning tree.




Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LIVERPOOL, 1928


I wonder,
in that world of tidy hedgerows
and secluded suburbia,
was the earth a better place?
A bicycle outside
the general store,
and the contented smile
on a nameless face.

I wish, I wish,
for something lost.
Something gone for good.
A yearning I cannot end
and have never understood...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
IRENE
To The Tune Of Nellie Dean


There's a chippy down near Ince Green,
Irene!
Where we used to go and be seen,
Irene!
And as the mild and bitter it did flow,
And the songs the singers didn't know,
Woke you up at midnight,
On Saturday night,
Irene! Sweet Irene!


Jarvo 2015

For Irene. Happy Birthday

Posted by: irene (2607)  Report abuse
Thanks, Jarvo!x.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TB145


'We missed them' He said,
above the doldrums in the Pacific blue waste;

as His stare caught the moon
in the cold black light of space.

'Let them stew in their legends,
their myths and tales...

'I'll steal thunder in their night
if everything else fails...'


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
A POEM FOR MARILYN WILSON


Only a genius
could write a tune like that.

Tip-toeing along the hall,
can you still hear the piano in the sandbox?
'Till I Die, Take twenty three in motion...

And the late night surf
coming up from the Pacific Ocean ...


Jarvo 2015

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
COME WITH ME TO THE RIVER


Come with me to the river,
and watch the boats
in the blood-red water.
Come with me to the leafy lanes,
and see the dead bodies in the leaves.

Come with me to the end of the earth
when the peace makers die in sorrow
and the whole world grieves...


Jarvo 2015

R.I.P. The Paris Dead

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE NORTH STAR


Tonight,
the rain has doused the Lighthouse,
and at the window
I watch the distant orange lights.
The wind has changed direction,
and a half moon
tugs at high water.
I am touched
by stillness and solitude,
and drawn to the North Star...

* * * *

Driving home, my tears are lost
in November rain...

By your death bed
a life collection:

your wedding day...

Josh...

and an elephant...
Its face pointing
in the direction of the
North Star...


Jarvo 2015

For Ronnie. 'Til we meet again.

R.I.P. X

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LATE NOVEMBER


Strange,
how the late leaves refuse to fall;
and the time is told
by the shadow on the wall.

Strange,
not seeing you at the corner of the park;
and the weary walk home
after dark.

Strange, then,
these days in late November;
as the night draws its curtain
for the dawn of December...


Jarvo 2015


For Sandy and Josh x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE HAND THAT TAKES


And then she said:
today,
I will take everything that you have
to give...

I gave without remorse;
because,
it was like that.

Too long
to go without giving,
the hand that
taketh away...


Jarvo 2016

For Laurie Anderson

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
21st OCTOBER, 1966


Bring me your pennies,
here, to the front of the hall.

I will scatter them
in the Valleys,
in the blackness
and the mud.

The rain is still falling:
but the clink of the spades
digging the earth,
goes on,
forty feet below...

All through the night,
by the dim lamplight,
careful now,

easy as we go...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE NIGHT LIGHTS (At The Dimming Of The Year)


They've changed the night lights,
from orange back to
white.
It was inevitable,
someone said.
Too many memories,
that you need to shed.

And so the trees became bare,
and for a moment
you were standing there,
as you did
at the turn of that year.

No last kiss:
you turned and were gone.
Down that lonely avenue
with the night lights
coming on...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Please get back to album.

Posted by: Handsomeminer (1274) Report abuse
That's what watching wolves does to you

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE NICE


It was nice,
while it lasted.
Walking down Northumberland Street,
and on to St James's.

You bought me a pint
of brown and mild;
and we supped
till the sun came up.

It was nice.
Watching the moon set
over the five bridges
and beyond...

Tonight, the Tyne is at low water.
I still can't believe
you've gone...


Jarvo 2016

For K.E.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
BANK HOLIDAY (1959)


At the end of that summer
we'd taken a wrong turn.
A train was passing
somewhere behind the trees,
but we played between
the sandy graves.

Death was behind me,
not touching,
but for others that shed tears:
my father,
unable to speak,
crouching,
and touching the dust.
Quiet now!
My mother's voice,
sharp, affected,
quietened us.

Back on the road,
the houses passed,
and a familiar bus,
empty,
gave us the way:

the slow car home
in silence,
at the dimming of the day...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
APRIL LOVE SONG


After midnight,
a message by candlelight:
'I love you still...'

Oh,
the memories,
and the thrill.
'What you drinking?'
came the retort;
'I just bought a bottle
of'42...'

And I swear,
I saw you
at the turning of the night,
out under the half-moon.

It's a deception
by the fading light,
played by the mistress
of cruel...

It's a trick...
A trick -
you fool!


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: Handsomeminer (1274) Report abuse
Your pathetic derogatory posts about RL are more entertaining

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
My thoughts exactly.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
...It's all down to education...

This stuff is way above your pitmon yed, Colin...

You should read more...



Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
FOOLS OVERTURE


October evening
and the leaves
are fooling the sun.
As that piano plays,
the days
stretch before me
and
something long lost
is found
again...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse

...It's all down to education...

Which is why you needed to go to night school?

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
F̶̶h̶r̶e̶r̶ ̶ Further education I think they call it, Lapis.

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Leccy, that implies a basic education in the first place

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
NINETEEN FIFTY NINE


I play with numbers
on smooth white paper.
Drawing the lines
and joining the loops.
Red and blue,
five, nine and two;
six, and the odd number of eight.
I love the game of numbers
and the endless
stories they help me
to write.

I started back there,
in 1959,
when the darkness of four o'clock
brought the game to its close.
And homeward
up the hill
counting the doors,
never noticing the ticking
of the minutes
and the hours...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: Handsomeminer (1274) Report abuse
Come on jarvo it dosnt even rhyme

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
And the odd number of 8? Is that poetic licence?

Eight was an even number when I went to school

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Colin: Study it, lad...There are rhymes there if you look for them.

Jennifer: Do you actually know what the poem is about?

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Do you John

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Come on, what do you think the poem's about?

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
John, I am of the school of poetry reading that the words should speak for themselves. No explanation should required.

It shouldn't be a guessing game.

Your intention is not clear with the words you have chosen, but to me it reads that it's about learning maths at your infants school.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Handsomeminer,

As it is a while ago I will re-post a poem I wrote in dedication to Jarvo.

He thinks he is the master of rhyme and wit,
But at the end of the day he is full of ****

Does that rhyme enough for you? When I wrote it I never realised how prophetic the words would be.

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Bill

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
Well mine rhymed

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Eront, I think you posted 2 if I remember correctly. They certainly did rhyme, and their meanings were very clear

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
I believe in being direct and to the point with my poetry

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
So do I.

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
I have a belter on the go at the moment its called "The List"

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
Have you thought of anything to rhyme with 'list' that is pertinent to the subject,yet, EQ?

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Is it about someone spouting when he is ******.

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
Posted by: lectriclegs (1665)1,000+ Report abuse

Have you thought of anything to rhyme with 'list' that is pertinent to the subject,yet, EQ?

Replied: 2nd Apr 2016 at 16:35

I'm a lady LL I dont think of such things.

Whoops there goes my anonymity. Ah well call me Sally anyway

Posted by: Handsomeminer (1274) Report abuse
That's a proper poem broady

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Eront, come on, get it posted me tongues hanging out to read your lovely lines once more

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
"The List"

Who is on it John

Just thought I'd enquire

How long will it be

Before we are all tossed off

Come on John don't be a crier

Who's on the list John

Come now don't be shy

It's time you told us all

Now don't run off and Skrike

Give us a sign oh give us a sign

You have a crystal ball John

Place your hands upon it

You have the wherewithall


Well maybe if you had a set

Sally April 2016




Posted by: gemfree (inactive) Report abuse
Nice one Sally.......

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Excellent EQ, I know just where your coming from

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
M591200


No one could outbid me.
Destiny
has seen you home.

Come,
bring the others
back to the table.

Old friends are waiting
on familiar
tracks...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: Handsomeminer (1274) Report abuse
Please Jarvo no more😀

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
TELL HER I SAID HELLO


If you could stop
and listen,
for just one moment
in time,

tell her I said hello
and all that appears,
appears fine.

Tell her the truth
about those aching nights;
and the dawns that followed

between
the darkness and
light.

Tell her
the truth
that she knows well;

tell her
I forgive the minutes
she wasted, as well.

Tell her the past
has gone from this place.

And the ghosts that lingered
have left not a trace...



Jarvo 2016

For R.Z.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Time admin sent this thread to Dusty Bin. 3-2-1 and go.

Posted by: Handsomeminer (1274) Report abuse
Just what you need first thing on a Sunday morning when your a little worse for wear

Posted by: dodger (3414) Report abuse
Jarvo, I think it's time you stopped drinking in the Fish if that is the crap you come out with when you arrive home.

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
Looks like the drunken ramblings of a sad old man, with lots of regrets, to me.

Posted by: GOLDEN BEAR (2920)  Report abuse
I did not know we had famous poet's on W W????

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse
Famous or infamous?

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
I vote for the latter.

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
"Famous or infamous"

"I vote the latter"

If your on the list

It wont really matter

Sally 2016

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Eront

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Keep up the good work, jarvo.

Don't let the nasty rejects stop you.

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
Ba💤💤. People should judge for themselves Bas

Wigan Rejects

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
I may post one of my little masterpieces later.

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Us decent posters like you poems, jarvo, just ignore the nasty ones, hopefully there on your list.

Posted by: bassman (3519) Report abuse
These seem like statements rather than poetry......not working for me I'm afraid...

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
(Comment removed because it broke the rules)

Posted by: erontquay (inactive) Report abuse
Whoops Apologies I cant seem to delete this

Please remove

Poor Jarvo his whole thread repeated and deleted

Thank you Admin.

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Carry on with the poems, jarvo.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE ENTRY OF CHRIST INTO WIGAN...


...He

came, the posh way -

down Wigan Lane;

no refrains,

or special trains;

on a little donkey

dressed in white.

He smiled,

and waved His hand;

charming and quiet,

He stopped for

a pint

at Harry's bar.

Later,

that night,

I remember

seeing high above,

a bright yellow star;

He'd gone then,

leaving behind

stories of mystery

and awe;

and I saw

in people's eyes

a look of love

and surprise;

and deep in their hearts

lay

peace

and goodwill...

And some fellah said

he'd seen him

just after midnight,

going

over

Winter

Hill...




Jarvo 2016


For Bennie.

Posted by: Jazzy (8509)   Report abuse
Fellah ??????

: a peasant or agricultural laborer in an Arab country (as Egypt)

Fella

non-standard spelling of fellow, used in representing speech in various dialects . you can't blame the wee fella.

Whatever you paid for that poetry course yer wuz robbed

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
DOWN BY THE RIVERBANK


She walked on water
that sunny afternoon, down by the riverbank.
I stood, and watched
the miracle unfold.

Six years later,
I was told
she was on the run,
for various crimes
she had conjured up and done.

Funny how deceit
can play tricks
in the sun...


* * * *


THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS


It's been a year now,
since last I heard our song.
And the wind has blown through the willows,
drying the grass
and the tear soaked pillows,
and you are long gone.


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
MISS HILL'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT


To you all:
I leave Meg the Hen
and all her friends
in the Red Book.

Keep her safe:
and remember me
when you begin to write
'happy days'.


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE LOW ROAD


Now,
there is nothing left
of the low road.
I glance across
towards what was once a field of hay;
a woman in a jeep
wakes me from my sleep,
as the moment
and the memory
pass away.


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
AT GETHSEMANE


We stopped by the garden gate.
You paused, uncertain,
and then fled.

You didn't wait.
I lit a torch. And then a voice in the darkness
said:

Stand here and be counted,
and never be alone again...

And so I did.
And now any tears are wiped away;
at the grey first light,
and at the dimming
of the day...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: Bennie (1297)  Report abuse
Jarvo I've just read your

ENTRY OF CHRIST INTO WIGAN...

Beautiful

Thank you

Posted by: lapis lazuli (inactive) Report abuse
Were you in Lamberhead on Saturday, Bennie?

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Smashing poem, jarvo.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Bennie: Thank you.

Welcome back.

Best news of the day.

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Welcome back Bennie, don't let the nasty uns, and there is some on here when they don't get there own way, drive you away.

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
Oh where has the bard of Wigan gone
the bloke from Pem, you no the one

He posted on 'album' just the other day
But other than that he's gone astray

'Some people are saying "it's all very queer
Others retort "aye but it's peaceful on here

Perhaps he's returned to the time that he loves
The one full of hippies, peace and white doves


Lectriclegs 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
PURPLE PATCH


Two down
on midsummer's eve;
and
then
a late arrival
on the tavern steps.
Go on,
kiss me
for the last time;
it can
never last...


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
MORNING SONG


Silence.

And the dawn breaks
through the grey.
If I stay
I can never go back.

So I caught a bus
and went back to my bed...

Nuff said.


Jarvo 2016

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SEA SONG


I can still hear the sea, the sea,
telling me:

All is well, all is well...
But take heed

at the first port of call;
for nothing you see

is as it seems,

no nothing, nothing,
at all...


Jarvo

For Leonard Cohen x

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
IS THAT YOU, MAJOR TOM?
(A SONG)


Is that you
lying between the craters
and the black dust,
Major Tom?

Speak to me, Major Tom?

They've let you lie,
still in your suit of arms.
And they've even mentioned you
in a book of Psalms

It's been so long.
Let him lie.
It's been so long.
Tell me why?

There's was never an ending,
to this song...
Never an ending,
what went wrong?

We're taking you back home,
it won't be long.
We're taking you back home.
After so long...

Home, after so long...


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
THE HOUSE ON BREWSTER STREET


Here,
I can see the road taken;
down by the corner
where the snow deepens.

Here is where the horses stopped
on their way to the dark wood.

Of all the things that are past,
the reason for going
I never understood.

We take the road chosen,
as if by chance.
Sometimes we return,
by lamplight and circumstance.

Sometimes we wander
further from the truth.
Searching for the answers
lost in our youth...


Jarvo 2017

For R.F.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SEA POEM


I cannot cross tonight,
the dark way to Dublin.
But the moon pulls me in
across Liverpool Bay.

Call my name in the dark
and send me your white horse.
Wait for me
until midnight

and then send out your ships
to search for me
at sea.


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
Another load of bilge.

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Posted by: lisalee (10778)

You know the old saying.....

If you don't like it, don't read it!

Replied: 23rd Aug 2015 at 10:3

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Symbolic and alliterative...

Posted by: grimshaw (621)  Report abuse
For if anyone thinks he is something ,when he is nothing ,he deceives himself.

Posted by: laughing gravy (2296) Report abuse
i thought poems were supposed to rhyme??
like

jarvo it seems
everything you write
is complete and utter
shite!

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
SONG IN OXFORD STREET


It's there again, that song
that stops me in my tracks.

Behind me,
my footprints,

along the length and breadth
of Oxford Street,

are soaked blue
with tears...



Jarvo 2017

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
My only problem with this posting is: How can this bilge have almost 12000 hits. The vagaries of the public. I can only presume so many people read it to reinforce their opinions that is utter rubbish. In defence of the Pemberton Poet Laureate I must say I cannot stand Shakespeare, Shelley or anything along those lines.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
Stick to the ex copper's ball in downtown Montreal then.
Your silly narrow minded opinion doesn't count.

You couldn't understand that poem if you studied it from now till December.

Posted by: Stardelta (5796) Report abuse
He is at it again, Boardy the forum daddy.

Always quick to critisice others for hostile, aggressive and generally disrespectful conduct but in reality and as is plain to see...........no better himself.

Such arrogance!

Do what I say, not what I do........right William?

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Agree, he's took the place of nasty mac and joey onions.

I wish he would beg nasty mac and stirrer, Eq, to let him back on tuther site.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Surely a person who was so scathing about miner's wives the other week isn't concerned about comments?? I notice the Village Idiot chipping away.

Posted by: Stardelta (5796) Report abuse
Errrrrm......the village idiot thats very observant to hypocrisy........ if you don't mind.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
"Ex coppers ball in downtown Montreal" What a peculiar statement!!!

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse
Nearly as peculiar as the tripe he keeps posting on this thread.

Posted by: Bennie (1297)  Report abuse
Broadly

"I must say I cannot stand Shakespeare , Shelley or anything along those lines"

Is that a literary critique based on study and visits to the theatre or just inverted snobbery to reinforce your tough guy self imagery?

Stop trolling on here please.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Here comes the cavalry. Study of Macbeth and Shelley at WGS not that it has anything to do with you. I do however like flower arranging. Why would I go to the theatre if I realised at an early age I didn't like the product??

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
ALFRED THE GREAT


'It dates back to the time of Alfred the Great'
said the man on TV...
And so he was right:
sitting at my desk,
a Ladybird,
Alfred,
and me...


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
I AM STILL HERE


I am still here
and the distance that separates us
can be measured in minutes.
Such time then,
to take the short journey
through familiar streets
and through the gloom of evening.

But you know different,
and why should we make such journeys?
It is said
that love once dead
can never be resurrected;
it is best to forget
and let the past bury itself whole.

I come now,
from the shadows,
from the black soil
that buried me alive.
Such a force
urges me on -
And I am alive to the first season of the year:

I am not dead.
I am still here.

For B.P.


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: xxstuartxx (5705) Report abuse
Must be drunk, must be.

Posted by: ahcawntspeyk (5755) Report abuse
Aye.... And a plagiarist to boot.

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Is it's sonnet??

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
It looks like Admin have turned a blind eye to my request.

That's sad.

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
JOHN BARLEYCORN


Through the fields he stumbled
with Venus in his eyes.
As the lake lay empty
and the swans had died.
They tore him, limb from limb,
and buried him at dawn...

And the gravestone has small flowers
for poor John Barleycorn...


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: broady (12485)   Report abuse
Is it a sonnet or is it copied from someone else ( as usual)

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
John Barleycorn

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
RIVER


Still here,
rushing over the flat stones,
you've taken the lost boat
out to meet the sea.

Let me watch then
just for this one hour,
hoping she'll come back
to me...


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: jathbee (8069) Report abuse
The Detractors Tale.

The tired old man is persistent,
A tragic sight to see.
His detractors are resistant,
To his constant reverie.
He lives a life of back looking,
The sadness plain to see.
If only he could be doing,
What he can only aspire to be.

He puts aside an hour or two,
On Saturday when free.
And looks into a pint or two,
And dreams of what should be.

The hour has past,
The dreams, alas.
Lay shattered in a wish.
He now can only spend his time,
Warbling in the Fish.
😂😂😂
At least, by and large it rhymes

Posted by: bassman (3519) Report abuse
Give it up Jarves......too many don't give a funkeys muck about the "poetry"..

Posted by: GOLDEN BEAR (2920)  Report abuse
I would like to know should all this verse/poetry be under (general) I thought under books be the place ,apologies just confused that's all......

Posted by: jathbee (8069) Report abuse
Best place for it is the recycle bin.

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Keep it up jarvo, a major contributor

Posted by: lectriclegs (2768) Report abuse


Reminds me of this Major.

Can anyone name him?

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
HOLBORN


As the Great Fire touched,
I swore you were there...

At the old toll gate
as the flames caught your hair.

Was it your ghost
that bear witness to what had passed?

You're seven years dead,
I had to ask...


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
LAST DAY OF JUNE


Let it rain,
if it must.

As the bar closes,
we brush the dust from memories past.

I ask you your name,
like I never even knew.

And that's the sum of us both,
me and you...


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
FALL


I give you a leaf
and a fallen apple.
Take the fruit,
it is premature.

Take the dove
that cannot fly;
let Jupiter fade
as the sun lightens the sky.

Feel the fall
chill your bones.
Over future days
I will search out the way
back home.

We come back,
all of us, in the end.
Wait for me then,
in your old red shoes.

Wait by the old back door,
under the ancient plough:
there is nothing left to take,
and nothing left to lose...

now.


Jarvo 2017

Posted by: Tommy Two Stroke (1631) Report abuse

Posted by: basil brush (8791) Report abuse
Nice to see jarvo still being a major contributor

Posted by: jarvo (27565)  Report abuse
NORLEY SONG
...The Return...


If you go,
go by the west way,
over hedge and under
the cherry trees.
Go by the silver moon
on the frost covered grass.
Ask of nothing.
And in turn,
keep the council of silence.
Keep to the road ahead
and watch for the lost streets;
they will be yours
if your heart desires.
Old friends may greet you
but keep your distance;
these are purely spiritual
and are seen only by yourself.
Believe:
and you will rewarded;
old songs can be sung
and the music you thought lost
will be heard again.
Take time to linger
under the lamplight,
up the hill
to the old school;
you may see the Blue Rose
through the long windows.
Your eyes may catch Her,
as She places flowers
in the coloured vase;
do not speak,
for She cannot see you,
but Her red hair will catch the dawn.
Go back as the sun comes up:
up the Avenue
to the top of the hill.
Look back if you must,
for your time here is short.
As you wake,
be blessed,
for your memories can never die.
You may go back again,
alone,
when the seasons call you.
The journey home is never long.
And the return
is sweeter for the absence.
Remember:
the old streets will be waiting.
And the spirits you love
will beckon you
home...


Jarvo 2017

 
 
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