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Evangeline Ashe Aug 2015
Fahnd 'im lyin' int middle o' t'street
bruised an' battered from t'tramplin' feet.
Ee'd crawled aht from some gutter
an' them cries tha' ee did utter
almost like a knife through butter
cut mi quick an' deep.

'Is broken wings ah tried to treat
gently praying that ee'd be reyt.
But when 'is cry became a stutter
t'world rolled dahn its shutters
an' rahnd mi someone muttered:
" 'is prospects ain't 'alf bleak".

An' that poor lost little 'eap
ah cradled but coun't weep,
til mi arms discerned a flutter.
So in mi chest ee'll see the summer
from that 'ollow haven like no other
where ee can safely sleep.
And now, as Dawn rose from her couch beside Tithonus—harbinger of
light alike to mortals and immortals—the gods met in council and with
them, Jove the lord of thunder, who is their king. Thereon Minerva
began to tell them of the many sufferings of Ulysses, for she pitied
him away there in the house of the nymph Calypso.
  “Father Jove,” said she, “and all you other gods that live in
everlasting bliss, I hope there may never be such a thing as a kind
and well-disposed ruler any more, nor one who will govern equitably. I
hope they will be all henceforth cruel and unjust, for there is not
one of his subjects but has forgotten Ulysses, who ruled them as
though he were their father. There he is, lying in great pain in an
island where dwells the nymph Calypso, who will not let him go; and he
cannot get back to his own country, for he can find neither ships
nor sailors to take him over the sea. Furthermore, wicked people are
now trying to ****** his only son Telemachus, who is coming home
from Pylos and Lacedaemon, where he has been to see if he can get news
of his father.”
  “What, my dear, are you talking about?” replied her father, “did you
not send him there yourself, because you thought it would help Ulysses
to get home and punish the suitors? Besides, you are perfectly able to
protect Telemachus, and to see him safely home again, while the
suitors have to come hurry-skurrying back without having killed him.”
  When he had thus spoken, he said to his son Mercury, “Mercury, you
are our messenger, go therefore and tell Calypso we have decreed
that poor Ulysses is to return home. He is to be convoyed neither by
gods nor men, but after a perilous voyage of twenty days upon a raft
he is to reach fertile Scheria, the land of the Phaeacians, who are
near of kin to the gods, and will honour him as though he were one
of ourselves. They will send him in a ship to his own country, and
will give him more bronze and gold and raiment than he would have
brought back from Troy, if he had had had all his prize money and
had got home without disaster. This is how we have settled that he
shall return to his country and his friends.”
  Thus he spoke, and Mercury, guide and guardian, slayer of Argus, did
as he was told. Forthwith he bound on his glittering golden sandals
with which he could fly like the wind over land and sea. He took the
wand with which he seals men’s eyes in sleep or wakes them just as
he pleases, and flew holding it in his hand over Pieria; then he
swooped down through the firmament till he reached the level of the
sea, whose waves he skimmed like a cormorant that flies fishing
every hole and corner of the ocean, and drenching its thick plumage in
the spray. He flew and flew over many a weary wave, but when at last
he got to the island which was his journey’s end, he left the sea
and went on by land till he came to the cave where the nymph Calypso
lived.
  He found her at home. There was a large fire burning on the
hearth, and one could smell from far the fragrant reek of burning
cedar and sandal wood. As for herself, she was busy at her loom,
shooting her golden shuttle through the warp and singing
beautifully. Round her cave there was a thick wood of alder, poplar,
and sweet smelling cypress trees, wherein all kinds of great birds had
built their nests—owls, hawks, and chattering sea-crows that occupy
their business in the waters. A vine loaded with grapes was trained
and grew luxuriantly about the mouth of the cave; there were also four
running rills of water in channels cut pretty close together, and
turned hither and thither so as to irrigate the beds of violets and
luscious herbage over which they flowed. Even a god could not help
being charmed with such a lovely spot, so Mercury stood still and
looked at it; but when he had admired it sufficiently he went inside
the cave.
  Calypso knew him at once—for the gods all know each other, no
matter how far they live from one another—but Ulysses was not within;
he was on the sea-shore as usual, looking out upon the barren ocean
with tears in his eyes, groaning and breaking his heart for sorrow.
Calypso gave Mercury a seat and said: “Why have you come to see me,
Mercury—honoured, and ever welcome—for you do not visit me often?
Say what you want; I will do it for be you at once if I can, and if it
can be done at all; but come inside, and let me set refreshment before
you.
  As she spoke she drew a table loaded with ambrosia beside him and
mixed him some red nectar, so Mercury ate and drank till he had had
enough, and then said:
  “We are speaking god and goddess to one another, one another, and
you ask me why I have come here, and I will tell you truly as you
would have me do. Jove sent me; it was no doing of mine; who could
possibly want to come all this way over the sea where there are no
cities full of people to offer me sacrifices or choice hecatombs?
Nevertheless I had to come, for none of us other gods can cross
Jove, nor transgress his orders. He says that you have here the most
ill-starred of alf those who fought nine years before the city of King
Priam and sailed home in the tenth year after having sacked it. On
their way home they sinned against Minerva, who raised both wind and
waves against them, so that all his brave companions perished, and
he alone was carried hither by wind and tide. Jove says that you are
to let this by man go at once, for it is decreed that he shall not
perish here, far from his own people, but shall return to his house
and country and see his friends again.”
  Calypso trembled with rage when she heard this, “You gods,” she
exclaimed, to be ashamed of yourselves. You are always jealous and
hate seeing a goddess take a fancy to a mortal man, and live with
him in open matrimony. So when rosy-fingered Dawn made love to
Orion, you precious gods were all of you furious till Diana went and
killed him in Ortygia. So again when Ceres fell in love with Iasion,
and yielded to him in a thrice ploughed fallow field, Jove came to
hear of it before so long and killed Iasion with his thunder-bolts.
And now you are angry with me too because I have a man here. I found
the poor creature sitting all alone astride of a keel, for Jove had
struck his ship with lightning and sunk it in mid ocean, so that all
his crew were drowned, while he himself was driven by wind and waves
on to my island. I got fond of him and cherished him, and had set my
heart on making him immortal, so that he should never grow old all his
days; still I cannot cross Jove, nor bring his counsels to nothing;
therefore, if he insists upon it, let the man go beyond the seas
again; but I cannot send him anywhere myself for I have neither
ships nor men who can take him. Nevertheless I will readily give him
such advice, in all good faith, as will be likely to bring him
safely to his own country.”
  “Then send him away,” said Mercury, “or Jove will be angry with
you and punish you”‘
  On this he took his leave, and Calypso went out to look for Ulysses,
for she had heard Jove’s message. She found him sitting upon the beach
with his eyes ever filled with tears, and dying of sheer
home-sickness; for he had got tired of Calypso, and though he was
forced to sleep with her in the cave by night, it was she, not he,
that would have it so. As for the day time, he spent it on the rocks
and on the sea-shore, weeping, crying aloud for his despair, and
always looking out upon the sea. Calypso then went close up to him
said:
  “My poor fellow, you shall not stay here grieving and fretting
your life out any longer. I am going to send you away of my own free
will; so go, cut some beams of wood, and make yourself a large raft
with an upper deck that it may carry you safely over the sea. I will
put bread, wine, and water on board to save you from starving. I
will also give you clothes, and will send you a fair wind to take
you home, if the gods in heaven so will it—for they know more about
these things, and can settle them better than I can.”
  Ulysses shuddered as he heard her. “Now goddess,” he answered,
“there is something behind all this; you cannot be really meaning to
help me home when you bid me do such a dreadful thing as put to sea on
a raft. Not even a well-found ship with a fair wind could venture on
such a distant voyage: nothing that you can say or do shall mage me go
on board a raft unless you first solemnly swear that you mean me no
mischief.”
  Calypso smiled at this and caressed him with her hand: “You know a
great deal,” said she, “but you are quite wrong here. May heaven above
and earth below be my witnesses, with the waters of the river Styx-
and this is the most solemn oath which a blessed god can take—that
I mean you no sort of harm, and am only advising you to do exactly
what I should do myself in your place. I am dealing with you quite
straightforwardly; my heart is not made of iron, and I am very sorry
for you.”
  When she had thus spoken she led the way rapidly before him, and
Ulysses followed in her steps; so the pair, goddess and man, went on
and on till they came to Calypso’s cave, where Ulysses took the seat
that Mercury had just left. Calypso set meat and drink before him of
the food that mortals eat; but her maids brought ambrosia and nectar
for herself, and they laid their hands on the good things that were
before them. When they had satisfied themselves with meat and drink,
Calypso spoke, saying:
  “Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, so you would start home to your
own land at once? Good luck go with you, but if you could only know
how much suffering is in store for you before you get back to your own
country, you would stay where you are, keep house along with me, and
let me make you immortal, no matter how anxious you may be to see this
wife of yours, of whom you are thinking all the time day after day;
yet I flatter myself that at am no whit less tall or well-looking than
she is, for it is not to be expected that a mortal woman should
compare in beauty with an immortal.”
  “Goddess,” replied Ulysses, “do not be angry with me about this. I
am quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so
beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an
immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing
else. If some god wrecks me when I am on the sea, I will bear it and
make the best of it. I have had infinite trouble both by land and
sea already, so let this go with the rest.”
  Presently the sun set and it became dark, whereon the pair retired
into the inner part of the cave and went to bed.
  When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, Ulysses put
on his shirt and cloak, while the goddess wore a dress of a light
gossamer fabric, very fine and graceful, with a beautiful golden
girdle about her waist and a veil to cover her head. She at once set
herself to think how she could speed Ulysses on his way. So she gave
him a great bronze axe that suited his hands; it was sharpened on both
sides, and had a beautiful olive-wood handle fitted firmly on to it.
She also gave him a sharp adze, and then led the way to the far end of
the island where the largest trees grew—alder, poplar and pine,
that reached the sky—very dry and well seasoned, so as to sail
light for him in the water. Then, when she had shown him where the
best trees grew, Calypso went home, leaving him to cut them, which
he soon finished doing. He cut down twenty trees in all and adzed them
smooth, squaring them by rule in good workmanlike fashion. Meanwhile
Calypso came back with some augers, so he bored holes with them and
fitted the timbers together with bolts and rivets. He made the raft as
broad as a skilled shipwright makes the beam of a large vessel, and he
filed a deck on top of the ribs, and ran a gunwale all round it. He
also made a mast with a yard arm, and a rudder to steer with. He
fenced the raft all round with wicker hurdles as a protection
against the waves, and then he threw on a quantity of wood. By and
by Calypso brought him some linen to make the sails, and he made these
too, excellently, making them fast with braces and sheets. Last of
all, with the help of levers, he drew the raft down into the water.
  In four days he had completed the whole work, and on the fifth
Calypso sent him from the island after washing him and giving him some
clean clothes. She gave him a goat skin full of black wine, and
another larger one of water; she also gave him a wallet full of
provisions, and found him in much good meat. Moreover, she made the
wind fair and warm for him, and gladly did Ulysses spread his sail
before it, while he sat and guided the raft skilfully by means of
the rudder. He never closed his eyes, but kept them fixed on the
Pleiads, on late-setting Bootes, and on the Bear—which men also
call the wain, and which turns round and round where it is, facing
Orion, and alone never dipping into the stream of Oceanus—for Calypso
had told him to keep this to his left. Days seven and ten did he
sail over the sea, and on the eighteenth the dim outlines of the
mountains on the nearest part of the Phaeacian coast appeared,
rising like a shield on the horizon.
  But King Neptune, who was returning from the Ethiopians, caught
sight of Ulysses a long way off, from the mountains of the Solymi.
He could see him sailing upon the sea, and it made him very angry,
so he wagged his head and muttered to himself, saying, heavens, so the
gods have been changing their minds about Ulysses while I was away
in Ethiopia, and now he is close to the land of the Phaeacians,
where it is decreed that he shall escape from the calamities that have
befallen him. Still, he shall have plenty of hardship yet before he
has done with it.”
  Thereon he gathered his clouds together, grasped his trident,
stirred it round in the sea, and roused the rage of every wind that
blows till earth, sea, and sky were hidden in cloud, and night
sprang forth out of the heavens. Winds from East, South, North, and
West fell upon him all at the same time, and a tremendous sea got
up, so that Ulysses’ heart began to fail him. “Alas,” he said to
himself in his dismay, “what ever will become of me? I am afraid
Calypso was right when she said I should have trouble by sea before
I got back home. It is all coming true. How black is Jove making
heaven with his clouds, and what a sea the winds are raising from
every quarter at once. I am now safe to perish. Blest and thrice blest
were those Danaans who fell before Troy in the cause of the sons of
Atreus. Would that had been killed on the day when the Trojans were
pressing me so sorely about the dead body of Achilles, for then I
should have had due burial and the Achaeans would have honoured my
name; but now it seems that I shall come to a most pitiable end.”
  As he spoke a sea broke over him with such terrific fury that the
raft reeled again, and he was carried overboard a long way off. He let
go the helm, and the force of the hurricane was so great that it broke
the mast half way up, and both sail and yard went over into the sea.
For a long time Ulysses was under water, and it was all he could do to
rise to the surface again, for the clothes Calypso had given him
weighed him down; but at last he got his head above water and spat out
the bitter brine that was running down his face in streams. In spite
of all this, however, he did not lose sight of his raft, but swam as
fast as he could towards it, got hold of it, and climbed on board
again so as to escape drowning. The sea took the raft and tossed it
about as Autumn winds whirl thistledown round and round upon a road.
It was as though the South, North, East, and West winds were all
playing battledore and shuttlecock with it at once.
  When he was in this plight, Ino daughter of Cadmus, also called
Leucothea, saw him. She had formerly been a mere mortal, but had
been since raised to the rank of a marine goddess. Seeing in what
great distress Ulysses now was, she had compassion upon him, and,
rising like a sea-gull from the waves, took her seat upon the raft.
  “My poor good man,” said she, “why is Neptune so furiously angry
with you? He
A sportin' death! My word it was!
An' taken in a sportin' way.
Mind you, I wasn't there to see;
I only tell you what they say.

They found that day at Shillinglee,
An' ran 'im down to Chillinghurst;
The fox was goin' straight an' free
For ninety minutes at a burst.

They 'ad a check at Ebernoe
An' made a cast across the Down,
Until they got a view 'ullo
An' chased i'm up to Kirdford town.

From Kirdford 'e run Bramber way,
An' took 'em over 'alf the Weald.
If you 'ave tried the Sussex clay,
You'll guess it weeded out the field.

Until at last I don't suppose
As 'arf a dozen, at the most,
Came safe to where the grassland goes
Switchbackin' southwards to the coast.

Young Captain 'Eadley, 'e was there,
And Jim the whip an' Percy Day;
The Purcells an' Sir Charles Adair,
An' this 'ere gent from London way.

For 'e 'ad gone amazin' fine,
Two 'undred pounds between 'is knees;
Eight stone he was, an' rode at nine,
As light an' limber as you please.

'E was a stranger to the 'Unt,
There weren't a person as 'e knew there;
But 'e could ride, that London gent--
'E sat 'is mare as if 'e grew there.

They seed the 'ounds upon the scent,
But found a fence across their track,
And 'ad to fly it; else it meant
A turnin' and a 'arkin' back.

'E was the foremost at the fence,
And as 'is mare just cleared the rail
He turned to them that rode be'ind,
For three was at 'is very tail.

'Ware 'oles!' says 'e, an' with the word,
Still sittin' easy on his mare,
Down, down 'e went, an' down an' down,
Into the quarry yawnin' there.

Some say it was two 'undred foot;
The bottom lay as black as ink.
I guess they 'ad some ugly dreams,
Who reined their 'orses on the brink.

'E'd only time for that one cry;
''Ware 'oles!' says 'e, an' saves all three.
There may be better deaths to die,
But that one's good enough for me.

For mind you, 'twas a sportin' end,
Upon a right good sportin' day;
They think a deal of 'im down 'ere,
That gent what came from London way.
Big Virge Oct 2014
BILLS BILLS BILLS !!!!
  
Soooo Many ... **** Bills ... !!!
I don't like Destiny's Child ... !!!
This ain't a Dance Drill ... !!!
  
I’m writing this poem
cos i'm ... TIRED ... of ... " BILLS " ... !!!!!
  
BILLS ... for the Electric ... !!!
BILLS ... for the Gas  …!!!
Soon … they'll be Billing ...
For taking a .... "SLASH" .... !!!?!!!
  
BILLS ... for ... The NET …
BILLS ... for your Texts ...
BILLS ... for those ... HOTLINES ...
For .... Telephone *** .... !!!
  
What will they bill next .... !?!
They're Billing .... Soooo Much ....
They don't even want ... Cheques ... !?!
  
Just Tap In ... Your PIN …
that's how they'll begin ...
to steal ... ALL Your Money ...
  
Why don't people see …. !?!
are they REALLY .... "THAT DIM" … ???
just look ... In Your Bank ...
  
"The Beast" .... Lies Within ....
  
Cashpoint machines .... “FAILING” ....
The service is .... “SICKENING” .... !!!
  
Meantime ..... YES ...... Your Bank
is … “HAPPILY” … Billing ....
  
Now ... I really would CHILL ....
if I ..... Never Again .....
SAW  .... A **** .... Dollar Bill !!!!
  
cos ... AMERICA’S ... used them
for Killing ... at Will ...
  
kinda gets me to ... Thinking .......
that ... even .... " Bill Clinton " ....
just bombed without ... Blinking ... !?!
  
Sudanese People .... DIED ...
as the U.S. .... just .... LIED ....
  
While meantime .... Bill Tried ... !!!
to STOP .... his **** .... SHRinKing ... !!!!!!
  
Lewinski .... for sure ....
Was NOT .... "FINGER LICKING" …. !!!!!
  
But doing ... Her Thing ...
while thinking ........... Ch-Ching ... !!!!!!!
  
Meantime .... Bill's career ....
was about to start .... SINKing ....
  
" TITANIC " ..... Indeed ..... !!!
  
Bill ... fulfilled ... His Need .... !!!
  
but then came ... The Press ... !
Monica's … "All DISTRESSED ... !!!"
  
but Bill ... Tried his Best ... !!!
once again .... to .... “DECEIVE” ….
  
but ... All of A SUDDEN ... !!!
BILL made ... "A NEW SOUND" ...
  
“Okay, Yes I did it … !!!”
  
The TRUTH ... did ... come out ... !!!!!!
  
So, how many Bills ... ?
are feeding us ... LIES ... !?!
from BILLS ... that we pay for ... ?
To … “UNIFORM GUYS” …. ???
  
Oh Yes ... The ... “OLD BILL” …
over here ... NEED TO ... chill … !!!!
They're beating on ... BLACKS ...
"RACISM" ….. “INSTILLED” …. !!!!!
  
Blacks Dying in ... Cells ...
All Show ... but ... No Tell ... !?!
of how this ... CHIT ... happens ....
  
“THE YOUNG MAN JUST FELL !!!!”
  
See, that's the ... Hard Sell ….
that's what ... Blacks Deserve ... !!!!!!!!
Ask .... Warren Mitchell .... !!!
  
Alf Garnett …. I MEAN ... !!!!!
  
See …. On TV screens ...
for years ... they've been showing ...
Blacks being .... "DEMEANED" ...
Drug Dealing .... or .... VIOLENT …
  
Then they want to ... BILL ME ...
for a **** ... TV Licence ... !!?!!
  
They may well be ... "Jokes" ...
to … “OLD SCHOOL” … White folks …
  
But .... Listen up ... CLOSE ... !!!!!
  
A Joke is a Joke .... !!!
but some ... "OLD BILL" ... these days ...
are those ... “*******” ... blokes ... !!!
  
So ... who in the end ...
will have faces of ... YOLK ...
  
Well .... NOT .... Rodney King !!!
Try this for a name ....
PC .... Julian Glyn ....
  
A .... Leicester .... Policeman …
caught .... " CHILD MOLESTING "… !!!
  
See i'm SICK of ... these Bills !!!!

We're paying .... "TAXATION" ...
for these ignorant ... " SICKO’S " ... !!!!!!!!!
to get their ... "CHEAP THRILLS" ... !?!
or to use ... Dollar Bills
to get people .... KILLED .... !!?!!
  
So ….

There are a FEW Reasons ...
why ... Bills ... get to me ...
amounting to ... TREASON ...
  
Haven't YOU ... had your fill ... !?!
  
Well ... maybe you ... Have … ?
Or ... maybe you ... Haven't … ?
  
I just want to ... RELAX ...
and be able to ... " CHILL " ...
and not have to ... Worry ...
about these ... " ****** " ….
  
BILLS … BILLS … BILLS … !!!!
They just keep on with them .....
Thence we went on to the Aeoli island where lives ****** son of
Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods. It is an island that floats (as
it were) upon the sea, iron bound with a wall that girds it. Now,
****** has six daughters and six ***** sons, so he made the sons marry
the daughters, and they all live with their dear father and mother,
feasting and enjoying every conceivable kind of luxury. All day long
the atmosphere of the house is loaded with the savour of roasting
meats till it groans again, yard and all; but by night they sleep on
their well-made bedsteads, each with his own wife between the
blankets. These were the people among whom we had now come.
  “****** entertained me for a whole month asking me questions all the
time about Troy, the Argive fleet, and the return of the Achaeans. I
told him exactly how everything had happened, and when I said I must
go, and asked him to further me on my way, he made no sort of
difficulty, but set about doing so at once. Moreover, he flayed me a
prime ox-hide to hold the ways of the roaring winds, which he shut
up in the hide as in a sack—for Jove had made him captain over the
winds, and he could stir or still each one of them according to his
own pleasure. He put the sack in the ship and bound the mouth so
tightly with a silver thread that not even a breath of a side-wind
could blow from any quarter. The West wind which was fair for us did
he alone let blow as it chose; but it all came to nothing, for we were
lost through our own folly.
  “Nine days and nine nights did we sail, and on the tenth day our
native land showed on the horizon. We got so close in that we could
see the stubble fires burning, and I, being then dead beat, fell
into a light sleep, for I had never let the rudder out of my own
hands, that we might get home the faster. On this the men fell to
talking among themselves, and said I was bringing back gold and silver
in the sack that ****** had given me. ‘Bless my heart,’ would one turn
to his neighbour, saying, ‘how this man gets honoured and makes
friends to whatever city or country he may go. See what fine prizes he
is taking home from Troy, while we, who have travelled just as far
as he has, come back with hands as empty as we set out with—and now
****** has given him ever so much more. Quick—let us see what it
all is, and how much gold and silver there is in the sack he gave
him.’
  “Thus they talked and evil counsels prevailed. They loosed the sack,
whereupon the wind flew howling forth and raised a storm that
carried us weeping out to sea and away from our own country. Then I
awoke, and knew not whether to throw myself into the sea or to live on
and make the best of it; but I bore it, covered myself up, and lay
down in the ship, while the men lamented bitterly as the fierce
winds bore our fleet back to the Aeolian island.
  “When we reached it we went ashore to take in water, and dined
hard by the ships. Immediately after dinner I took a herald and one of
my men and went straight to the house of ******, where I found him
feasting with his wife and family; so we sat down as suppliants on the
threshold. They were astounded when they saw us and said, ‘Ulysses,
what brings you here? What god has been ill-treating you? We took
great pains to further you on your way home to Ithaca, or wherever
it was that you wanted to go to.’
  “Thus did they speak, but I answered sorrowfully, ‘My men have
undone me; they, and cruel sleep, have ruined me. My friends, mend
me this mischief, for you can if you will.’
  “I spoke as movingly as I could, but they said nothing, till their
father answered, ‘Vilest of mankind, get you gone at once out of the
island; him whom heaven hates will I in no wise help. Be off, for
you come here as one abhorred of heaven. “And with these words he sent
me sorrowing from his door.
  “Thence we sailed sadly on till the men were worn out with long
and fruitless rowing, for there was no longer any wind to help them.
Six days, night and day did we toil, and on the seventh day we reached
the rocky stronghold of Lamus—Telepylus, the city of the
Laestrygonians, where the shepherd who is driving in his sheep and
goats [to be milked] salutes him who is driving out his flock [to
feed] and this last answers the salute. In that country a man who
could do without sleep might earn double wages, one as a herdsman of
cattle, and another as a shepherd, for they work much the same by
night as they do by day.
  “When we reached the harbour we found it land-locked under steep
cliffs, with a narrow entrance between two headlands. My captains took
all their ships inside, and made them fast close to one another, for
there was never so much as a breath of wind inside, but it was
always dead calm. I kept my own ship outside, and moored it to a
rock at the very end of the point; then I climbed a high rock to
reconnoitre, but could see no sign neither of man nor cattle, only
some smoke rising from the ground. So I sent two of my company with an
attendant to find out what sort of people the inhabitants were.
  “The men when they got on shore followed a level road by which the
people draw their firewood from the mountains into the town, till
presently they met a young woman who had come outside to fetch
water, and who was daughter to a Laestrygonian named Antiphates. She
was going to the fountain Artacia from which the people bring in their
water, and when my men had come close up to her, they asked her who
the king of that country might be, and over what kind of people he
ruled; so she directed them to her father’s house, but when they got
there they found his wife to be a giantess as huge as a mountain,
and they were horrified at the sight of her.
  “She at once called her husband Antiphates from the place of
assembly, and forthwith he set about killing my men. He snatched up
one of them, and began to make his dinner off him then and there,
whereon the other two ran back to the ships as fast as ever they
could. But Antiphates raised a hue and cry after them, and thousands
of sturdy Laestrygonians sprang up from every quarter—ogres, not men.
They threw vast rocks at us from the cliffs as though they had been
mere stones, and I heard the horrid sound of the ships crunching up
against one another, and the death cries of my men, as the
Laestrygonians speared them like fishes and took them home to eat
them. While they were thus killing my men within the harbour I drew my
sword, cut the cable of my own ship, and told my men to row with alf
their might if they too would not fare like the rest; so they laid out
for their lives, and we were thankful enough when we got into open
water out of reach of the rocks they hurled at us. As for the others
there was not one of them left.
  “Thence we sailed sadly on, glad to have escaped death, though we
had lost our comrades, and came to the Aeaean island, where Circe
lives a great and cunning goddess who is own sister to the magician
Aeetes—for they are both children of the sun by Perse, who is
daughter to Oceanus. We brought our ship into a safe harbour without a
word, for some god guided us thither, and having landed we there for
two days and two nights, worn out in body and mind. When the morning
of the third day came I took my spear and my sword, and went away from
the ship to reconnoitre, and see if I could discover signs of human
handiwork, or hear the sound of voices. Climbing to the top of a
high look-out I espied the smoke of Circe’s house rising upwards
amid a dense forest of trees, and when I saw this I doubted whether,
having seen the smoke, I would not go on at once and find out more,
but in the end I deemed it best to go back to the ship, give the men
their dinners, and send some of them instead of going myself.
  “When I had nearly got back to the ship some god took pity upon my
solitude, and sent a fine antlered stag right into the middle of my
path. He was coming down his pasture in the forest to drink of the
river, for the heat of the sun drove him, and as he passed I struck
him in the middle of the back; the bronze point of the spear went
clean through him, and he lay groaning in the dust until the life went
out of him. Then I set my foot upon him, drew my spear from the wound,
and laid it down; I also gathered rough grass and rushes and twisted
them into a fathom or so of good stout rope, with which I bound the
four feet of the noble creature together; having so done I hung him
round my neck and walked back to the ship leaning upon my spear, for
the stag was much too big for me to be able to carry him on my
shoulder, steadying him with one hand. As I threw him down in front of
the ship, I called the men and spoke cheeringly man by man to each
of them. ‘Look here my friends,’ said I, ‘we are not going to die so
much before our time after all, and at any rate we will not starve
so long as we have got something to eat and drink on board.’ On this
they uncovered their heads upon the sea shore and admired the stag,
for he was indeed a splendid fellow. Then, when they had feasted their
eyes upon him sufficiently, they washed their hands and began to
cook him for dinner.
  “Thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun we
stayed there eating and drinking our fill, but when the sun went
down and it came on dark, we camped upon the sea shore. When the child
of morning, fingered Dawn, appeared, I called a council and said,
‘My friends, we are in very great difficulties; listen therefore to
me. We have no idea where the sun either sets or rises, so that we
do not even know East from West. I see no way out of it; nevertheless,
we must try and find one. We are certainly on an island, for I went as
high as I could this morning, and saw the sea reaching all round it to
the horizon; it lies low, but towards the middle I saw smoke rising
from out of a thick forest of trees.’
  “Their hearts sank as they heard me, for they remembered how they
had been treated by the Laestrygonian Antiphates, and by the savage
ogre Polyphemus. They wept bitterly in their dismay, but there was
nothing to be got by crying, so I divided them into two companies
and set a captain over each; I gave one company to Eurylochus, while I
took command of the other myself. Then we cast lots in a helmet, and
the lot fell upon Eurylochus; so he set out with his twenty-two men,
and they wept, as also did we who were left behind.
  “When they reached Circe’s house they found it built of cut
stones, on a site that could be seen from far, in the middle of the
forest. There were wild mountain wolves and lions prowling all round
it—poor bewitched creatures whom she had tamed by her enchantments
and drugged into subjection. They did not attack my men, but wagged
their great tails, fawned upon them, and rubbed their noses lovingly
against them. As hounds crowd round their master when they see him
coming from dinner—for they know he will bring them something—even
so did these wolves and lions with their great claws fawn upon my men,
but the men were terribly frightened at seeing such strange creatures.
Presently they reached the gates of the goddess’s house, and as they
stood there they could hear Circe within, singing most beautifully
as she worked at her loom, making a web so fine, so soft, and of
such dazzling colours as no one but a goddess could weave. On this
Polites, whom I valued and trusted more than any other of my men,
said, ‘There is some one inside working at a loom and singing most
beautifully; the whole place resounds with it, let us call her and see
whether she is woman or goddess.’
  “They called her and she came down, unfastened the door, and bade
them enter. They, thinking no evil, followed her, all except
Eurylochus, who suspected mischief and stayed outside. When she had
got them into her house, she set them upon benches and seats and mixed
them a mess with cheese, honey, meal, and Pramnian but she drugged
it with wicked poisons to make them forget their homes, and when
they had drunk she turned them into pigs by a stroke of her wand,
and shut them up in her pigsties. They were like pigs-head, hair,
and all, and they grunted just as pigs do; but their senses were the
same as before, and they remembered everything.
  “Thus then were they shut up squealing, and Circe threw them some
acorns and beech masts such as pigs eat, but Eurylochus hurried back
to tell me about the sad fate of our comrades. He was so overcome with
dismay that though he tried to speak he could find no words to do
so; his eyes filled with tears and he could only sob and sigh, till at
last we forced his story out of him, and he told us what had
happened to the others.
  “‘We went,’ said he, as you told us, through the forest, and in
the middle of it there was a fine house built with cut stones in a
place that could be seen from far. There we found a woman, or else she
was a goddess, working at her loom and singing sweetly; so the men
shouted to her and called her, whereon she at once came down, opened
the door, and invited us in. The others did not suspect any mischief
so they followed her into the house, but I stayed where I was, for I
thought there might be some treachery. From that moment I saw them
no more, for not one of them ever came out, though I sat a long time
watching for them.’
  “Then I took my sword of bronze and slung it over my shoulders; I
also took my bow, and told Eurylochus to come back with me and show me
the way. But he laid hold of me with both his hands and spoke
piteously, saying, ‘Sir, do not force me to go with you, but let me
stay here, for I know you will not bring one of them back with you,
nor even return alive yourself; let us rather see if we cannot
escape at any rate with the few that are left us, for we may still
save our lives.’
  “‘Stay where you are, then, ‘answered I, ‘eating and drinking at the
ship, but I must go, for I am most urgently bound to do so.’
  “With this I left the ship and went up inland. When I got through
the charmed grove, and was near the great house of the enchantress
Circe, I met Mercury with his golden wand, disguised as a young man in
the hey-day of his youth and beauty with the down just coming upon his
face. He came up to me and took my hand within his own, saying, ‘My
poor unhappy man, whither are you going over this mountain top,
alone and without knowing the way? Your men are shut up in Circe’s
pigsties, like so many wild boars in their lairs. You surely do not
fancy that you can set them free? I can tell you that you will never
get back and will have to stay there with the rest of them. But
never mind, I will protect you and get you out of your difficulty.
Take this herb, which is one of great virtue, and keep it about you
when you go to Circe’s house, it will be a talisman to you against
every kind of mischief.
  “‘And I will tell you of all the wicked witchcraft that Circe will
try to practise upon you. She will mix a mess for you to drink, and
she will drug the meal with which she makes it, but she will not be
able to charm you, for the virtue of the herb that I shall give you
will prevent her spells from working. I will tell you all about it.
When Circe strikes you with her wand, draw your sword and spring
upon her as though you were goings to **** her. She will then be
frightened and will desire you to go to bed with her; on this you must
not point blank refuse her, for you want her to set your companions
free, and to take good care also of yourself, but you make her swear
solemnly by all the blessed that she will plot no further mischief
against you, or else when she has got you naked she will unman you and
make you fit for nothing.’
  “As he spoke he pulled the herb out of the ground an showed me
what it was like. The root was black, while the flower was as white as
milk; the gods call it Moly, and mortal men cannot uproot it, but
the gods can do whatever they like.
  “Then Mercury went back to high Olympus passing over the wooded
island; but I fared onward to the house of Circe, and my heart was
clouded with care as I walked along. When I got to the gates I stood
there and called the goddess, and as soon as she hear
John Stevens Sep 2016
This has been on my mind for some time... To share this comment to a poem I posted on the ALZ site. I don't know her name. It has made a deep impact on my heart.

The poem is:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/41121/remember-for-me/

Dec 17, 1013

w/e wrote:
Your words are beyond words. Thank you. We've had a rough week. Stage 6 is beginning with all its fury: incontinence, hallucinations, delusions, and, of course, mood changes from happy - to sad  - to angry in the flick of a nano second.  BUT, in spite of the dark clouds of his mind, we still have beautiful moments of tenderness & love. He was eating tonight and I could see on his face the darkness creeping into his brain. He left the table and began to pace. He went to the bedroom and would not let me touch him, comfort him.  When he finally calmed down an hour later, the darkness of his mind began to dissipate. He came to the kitchen and  he said to me: "I am afraid, I am scared." "What is scaring you?" I asked. He replied, " I wont remember who you are." My husband has lost a tremendous amount of his ability to speak so my heart began to dance  with joy when I heard him say those beautiful words of LOVE. I hugged him, I kissed him, I held his hand. I was in awe of his love for me.  I said, "My dear husband, I will help you touch me, I will help you caress me , I will help you feel your love for me. I will help you remember me." We embraced and we cried together... feeling a lifetime of love for each other... Peace & calm  restored, he is sleeping now.
-------------------
I had brought the poem to the top and she commented again. Such beautiful words of love.
-------------------
Jan 8, 2016

IdahoStevens, my reply to you was written on December 2013... My immortal beloved took his last breath on January 2014... Immortal beloved. Noble. Strong. Sensual. Pure. My Sunrise Ruby. Bright crystal structure of endless love. Perfect and Imperfect.

O  fateful morning!  I was preparing breakfast. He was walking between the bedroom and the bathroom... Desperately searching...  Searching for me... He knew intuitively his life was ending... I ran to him...We looked into each others eyes... I cradled him in the deep of my arms... I said, "My love, I am here. I will never leave you." ... He smiled ... He stopped breathing. I called 911... My heart encircled in his love. My mind enriched by cherished memories. My soul transformed... His scent inside of me. My body burning with desire... To love. To be loved... My body flying with his. From this earth to the center of the universe. Glowing.

O earth's reality! It bites...

I am adjusting... Adjusting to the deafening silence of the day. And of the night.

I am adapting... Adapting to the absence of his kisses. And his embrace.

I am accepting... I am trying, with every breath I take, to accept.  To accept his empty place in my nest. And on this earth.

To adjust. To adapt. To accept.

To transcend... Life and Death ... We enter this world. We leave this world ... When I understand that. When I totally accept that. I shall find peace.

No sluggish hearts will ever be found in our midst, eh?... We have lots of heart muscle in Alzconnected. Muscle memories... Of tenderness. Of love. And of care.

Good to see you, IdahoStevens.

M/E

Another comment left
--------------------

IdahoStevens,

If it's possible to cry and smile at the same time, that's what I did while reading your poem.  I read with my mom and dad in mind and it captures so perfectly their life together.  They did indeed go for ice cream all the time, a favorite treat for both.  Particularly poignant were the lines surrounding the holidays, my parents did their tree together, they even had their own tree when my husband, youngest son, I and my parents both sold our homes and bought a larger home to all live together, because we enjoyed being together so much.  Every Christmas Eve my dad put some of the presents together - bikes, chalkboards, etc and my mom wrapped them, then they put them under tree together.  The holidays were truly a special time of year for my parents.  Your lines brought all that back in vivid color and I read with tears in my eyes and a smile while remembering.

My mom and I talked on the phone almost every day, we went shopping, to lunch, sat and watched tv together almost every night.  We all sat down and talked all the time, it truly was a wonderful time when we were all together.

My beloved father passed away three years ago, and the last thing I whispered in his ear moments before he left us was that we would take of mom and to not worry, we would be fine.  Now I struggle with the fact that we had to place my mom in an ALF because we were just not able to keep her safe at home.

And now, I walk through our home, and see both my parents in every room.  I can even hear my dad calling me to help him with a computer issue, I can hear my mom call out to me that she can't figure out the remote.  In my mind, my dad sits at the kitchen table every evening and drinks his coffee.

Your poem brought back many beautiful memories thank you for that.

Terry

----------
Here is the poem.
John Stevens
Jun 27, 2010
Remember for Me

When the curtain draws closed on my mind
And leaves my body alone.
Think of the times we were together,
The times we talked on the phone.
———————————
Remember the times we would walk on the beach.
Hand in hand always in reach.
The moments we shared - together each day.
The love we shared in every way.

Though the hours get long that make up a day.
While you are sitting with me in your caring way.
Remember the times we would take a long walk.
We would get an ice cream, just sit and talk.
Remember. Remember for me.
——————————–
Remember the seasons of flowers in bloom.
We’d walk through the meadow, nature’s room.
We’d hunt down asparagus along a fence row.
Bring home a bunch and fix it just so.

Remember at Christmas the lights on the tree.
The gifts for the children from you and me.
The smells of the season that filled the air.
The laughter and joy of people who care.
Remember. Remember for me.
———————————–
Remember the moments our thoughts would blend.
No spoken word between us would send.
The thoughts of love and things to be.
Would cross the distance ‘tween you and me.

Tell me over and over again,
Of the things we use to do and when,
Times of laughter and times of fun
We had together, under the sun.
Remember. Remember for me.
—————————–
When the curtain draws closed on my mind.
And leaves my body alone.
Think of the times we were together,
The times we talked on the phone.

As yesterday’s memories caress your soul.
Close your eyes, imagine us whole.
Where some day we will be together again
Where memories won’t fade, we will again begin.
Remember. Remember for me.



Please see a friend of mine's web page honoring his wife who died of ALZ
http://junebergalzheimers.com/june-and-alzheimers/a-day-in-the-life-late-stage-alzheimer-s

© (4-20-03) John L. Stevens

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1752987/remember-for-me-comment/
Support ALZ   Many people die of this horrible disease.

Also visit a friend of mines web page.
Visit June's Website: www.junebergalzheimers.com
You make it in your mess-tin by the brazier's rosy gleam;
You watch it cloud, then settle amber clear;
You lift it with your bay'nit, and you sniff the fragrant steam;
The very breath of it is ripe with cheer.
You're awful cold and *****, and a-cursin' of your lot;
You scoff the blushin' 'alf of it, so rich and rippin' 'ot;
It bucks you up like anythink, just seems to touch the spot:
God bless the man that first discovered Tea!

Since I came out to fight in France, which ain't the other day,
I think I've drunk enough to float a barge;
All kinds of fancy foreign dope, from caffy and doo lay,
To *** they serves you out before a charge.
In back rooms of estaminays I've gurgled pints of cham;
I've swilled down mugs of cider till I've felt a bloomin' dam;
But 'struth! they all ain't in it with the vintage of Assam:
God bless the man that first invented Tea!

I think them lazy lumps o' gods wot kips on asphodel
Swigs nectar that's a flavour of Oolong;
I only wish them sons o' guns a-grillin' down in 'ell
Could 'ave their daily ration of Suchong.
Hurrah! I'm off to battle, which is 'ell and 'eaven too;
And if I don't give some poor bloke a sexton's job to do,
To-night, by Fritz's campfire, won't I 'ave a gorgeous brew
(For fightin' mustn't interfere with Tea).
To-night we'll all be tellin' of the Boches that we slew,
As we drink the giddy victory in Tea.
Marshal Gebbie Mar 2011
Whilst wet with rain
beneath a tree
An introspective moment
had a sneaky peek at me.
Who am I and what am I
... and what have I to show?
And should I be concerned
that very few... may care to know?

Slightly left of centre
With a wrinkled, balding crown,
Scarred and bushy eyebrows
And a mouth that tends to frown.
A grizzled beard hides multitudes
Of sins I wish to hide
And the beauty of my burning youth
Has long since shrivel dried.

The paunch has spread expansively,
Athletic legs have shrunk
And my ****** performance
Has diminished with a thunk.
I suffer fools reluctantly
In fact, it’s true to say...
That my patience and forbearance
Is  more limited each day.

Pasta Carbonara
In a creamy bacon sauce
With a smooth rewarding merlot
Is my favourite fare.. of course!
Plus a stodgy Apple pudding
Bathed in double dairy cream
And a steaming cappuccino
Topped with chocolate is a dream.

A powerhouse of action
With the things I Iike to do
And a sloth, to beat the band,
When the Tax Return is due.
An ardent fan for Old Jazz
Vamped on keyboard and the snare
But the world of Rap
Just leaves my head In hideous disrepair.

I’ll face down bullies twice my size
And heaven help the fool
Who interferes with family
For I’ll hit him hard and cruel,
Yet feed me sad old movies
And, any given night, you’ll see
A little tear run down the cheek
Oh so, self consciously for me.

The woman is God’s gift to man
The statuesque, the strong,
The saturnine eyed redhead
Where the gazes linger long.
The magnificence of a ponytail
As it bobs along the street
Atop a Grecian Goddess
With her undulations, sweet.
And ****!.. there is that little dress,
The one that fits so well,
That amplifies your promise
And gives my senses Hell!

And there’s the need to tell the story,
To formulate the plan,
Initiate the living thought
In a delivery of élan.
To modulate the language
To win the ears of youth
With an oratory of promise
To impact them all with couth.

There’s commitment to your Darling
And a tolerance for the kids
And the need for good provision
So we all don’t hit the skids.
And the cat and dog need feeding
Plus the goldfish in the jar,
Then there’s Alf and Frank and Joe
Who all expect me at the Bar.

So what’s it all about you say
This parody called life?
Is it all a headlong rush
Along the road avoiding strife?
Is there any plan or sequence,
Does it pan out in the end
Or is everything a chaos
Driving me around the bend?

Survival is the answer!
Take one small step at a time,
Smile at dear old ladies
And your day will turn out fine.
Avoid the grim policemen
And skirt all growling dogs,
Be gentle with your Sweetheart
And don’t skate on jellied frogs.

The recipe’s so simple
The answer is so clear
Don’t complicate your time with ****
And, please pass another beer.

Marshalg
Still soliloquising under the tree in the falling rain.
26 March 2011
Tedious
Half-Baked
Egotistical
Erreneous

Assin­ine
Ridiculius
Troll
Inarticulate
SUBPAR
Tast­eless
Execrable

Laughable
Obnoxious
Grotesque
­Hopeless
Amateurish
Incompetent
Narcissistic

C­ounterfeit
Abominable
Reprehensible
Vainglorious
O­dious
Inspired by Loghain Carvo.

Repost this if you also cannot stand the cruelty of the trolls and haters on this site. We need to raise our voices against the malicious comments left by Loghain and many others, LET'S TAKE A STAND!
Amelie Jan 2013
A** chance to speak,
Beneath broken sheets,
Caught out in moment,
Dying deep inside.
Evaporate tension,
From little or no knowing,
Growing up alone,
Half loved and half resented.
I come to conclusions,
Just before my death,
Keeping me in memory,
Like you always promised,
Missing me in silence,
No more mourning of past,
Of regrets and despairs.
Promise me you’ll use what I learnt,
Question the decisions of others,
Reluctant or not,
Stay away from their paths,
They only lead you to their futures,
Unknowingly you end their second,
Valiant but alone,
Where you spend life in wandering,
Xrayed life,
Your future makes up nothing
Zorbing inside of your own bubble.
January Masterpiece !
Sanaa May 2014
I’ve been quiet for a while,
silence has devoured me
into nothingness,

I’ve been watching more,
perhaps reading
seems too much of an effort
or an act we’d usually do together,

I’ve been thinking,
about you and the times
we’ve spent with one another,

I think I’ve replayed
the first time
I met you
a hundred times
without any exaggeration of the thought,

and I’d replay it
a thousand more times
if it means
your presence by me.
Loveless Nov 2016
Light awakens with shrieks of thunder
In the sky, a breathtaking wonder
Grief of rain, within clouds it reside
Half parts meet when heavens collide

Tremble in sky, It longs to fly

Never get close, it just wants to clash
It screams with its fascinating flash
Never afraid of fall, it takes a leap
G**round it's salvation, it was born to seek
Down in snowman school where
they learn how not to melt,
well
what fool goes in there?
'Not I,'
I hear the snowball say, but
as I watch the snowball
trickles
trickles
effortlessly deathly
which don't
'alf depress me
away.

So snowmen go to school and
learn how to melt with dignity,
a touch of class, a dash,
learn to do it with panache,
keep your snowballs close at
hand,
be good, stay cool
don't be a snowball type of fool
go to snowman
school.
I AM TRYING TO FIND HAPPINESS, AS I FELT I HAD TO GET PAST MY MUM AND DAD
FOR FUTURE HAPPINESS, I THINK THAT VISION OF HELL, IS TRUE, CAUSE I AM A BELIEVER IN COSMIC ENERG, AS WELL AS THE BUDDHIST PHILOSOPHY OF
MENDING EVERY BLADE OF GRASS TO BE SOWN, I WANT TO BE A HOLLYWOOD CELEBRITY, BUT I HAVE TO SETTLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH, I WANT TO HAVE
MY ART DISPLAYED IN ART GALLERIES, BUT I DO IT ONLINE, EVEN FACEBOOK
I WANT TO LOOK AT MY STORIES, LIKE ME, BRINGING MY IMAGINERY TV STATIONS
INTO THE REAL WORLD, I REMEMBER DAD SAYING, SOMETIMES IN LIFE WE HAVE
TO MAKE SACRIFICES, WELL, I FELT I WAS SACRIFICES OF HIM TREATING ME
LIKE A LITTLE SHY BOY TO A TEASE, I TRY AND BE A OPTOMIST, BUT IT ISN'T HARD
TO BE A PESIMIST, BECAUSE, I AM NOT AS FAMOUS, AS I WOULD LIKE TO BE
YA SEE, I FIND THIS GUY PRETTY COOL, YA KNOW, HE ISN'T AFRAID TO EXPRESS
HIS BUDDHIST BELIEFS, BUT I FELT I WAS SUFFERING WHEN I WAS BEING THE
FAMOUS PERSON FROM THE FAMILY, AND I WANT TO BE MY OWN PERSON, I LIKE
THE IDEA, OF BEING FAMOUS, EVEN IF IT WAS FOR JUST 10 YEARS, I FEEL FAMOUS
IN MY MENTAL HEALTH DRAMA GROUP, I WANT TO GET FURTHER WITH THAT ART
THERPAY, AT BELCONNEN MENTAL HEALTH, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT, I WAS
TRYING TO CALL A TRUCE WITH DAD, HE DID DO IT FOR LOVE, BUT I FELT, HE
LIKED MY BROTHER MORE, AND HE DROVE ME CRAZY, NOW, I NOT COMPLAIN ABOUT HIM, HE TRIED TO UNDERSTAND ME, BUT HE COULD'VE TRIED HARDER
CAUSE, I SUFFERED ALL MY LIFE, YOU KNOW, NOBODY WANTED TO STAY
WITH ME AT NIGHTCLUBS, OR GO WITH ME TO NIGHTCLUBS,DESPITE, ME STILL
ENJOYING MYSELF IN NIGHTCLUBS, I REALLY WANTED TO BE W2ITH COOL MATES,
NOT TOTALLY SQUARRE MATES, AND I CAN TELL YOUNG DUDES, I PARTIED IN
NIGHTCLUBS, IN MY DAY, MAN, I TRIED TO UNDERSTAND DAD, WHEN I SAT NEAR HIM
BUT HE WANTED TO TREAT ME LIKE A LITTLE SHY BOY TO LIFE, LIKE SOMEONE
WHO IS FINDING IT DIFFICULT, DAD WAS A LITTLE SHY BOY, HE HATED, THINKING
OR DREAMING FOR THE FUTURE, AS OPPOSED, TO LIVING FOR TODAY, I KNOW
I SEEMED TO DWELL IN THE PAST, BUT I NEVER DWELL, I MAKE PEACE WITH THE
PAST, I TOLD DAD THIS BEFORE HE DIED, LIKE HE PREFERS, CONTRACTOR, I PREFER ERIN BOY, JUST BECAUSE I AM IN MY 40S, DOESN'T MEAN I CAN'T BE
AN ERIN BOY, INSTEAD OF CONTRACTOR, DAD, WAS A GREAT LOVER OF FLOWERS
AND HE HATED ME EATING GRASS, BUT I HATED HIM TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE
BABY SHY BOY, I SAW LIFE, IN A BETTER AND DIFFERENT WAY TO DAD
I LIKE PARTYING DAD LIKED BEING MATURE
I PLAY CRICKET AND NEW YEARS EVE PARTIES, TO MAKE DAD FEEL LIKE A MAN
SOME OF THE MEN WHO WENT TO CLUBS, WERE NICER TO ME MORE THAN DAD
AND OUR NEIGHBOUR, ALAN WAS OLD, BUT HE LOVED THE SYDNEY SWANS
AND I USED TO TALK ABOUT HOW GOOD THE SYDNEY SWANS ARE, HE TOLD
ME ABOUT HOW HE WENT TO THE PAPER SHOP TO GET TELEGRAMS OF THE
SWANS, YEAH, I USED TO HAVE FUN ARGUMENTS WITH ASHLEY, AUSSIE RULES
V LEAGUE, AND I FOUGHT FOR CARLTON OVER STAN NIEMICS ESSENDON
AND I REMEMBER LESLIE, WAS MUMS FRIEND, BUT HE WAS A GREAT MATE TO ME
I HAD MY SCHOOL MATES TEASING ME IN MY HEAD, HE GAVE ME HIS EAR
THAT LIFE'S DEAD, BUT I SHARED A FEW LAIGHS WITH DAD, BUT HE WELL TRIED
AS HARD AS HE COULD, LIKE GOINGT TO MY FLAT FOR XMAS PARTIES, THE ONLY WAY, BUT I TOLD DAD THINGS ABOUT TV AND SPORT, LIKE DAD TOLD ME WHEN
IT WAS A FIRE BAN OR WHEN IT WAS GOING TO RAIN, I TOLD HIM ABOUT ALF
STEWART ON HOME AND AWAY, AND HOW BAD CARLTON AND THE RAIDERS
WERE PLAYING, I WENT TO WEEKEND JAIL FOR TYING UP A BOY, BUT I LEARNT
MY LESSON STRAIGHT AWAY, DAD  NEVER UNDERSTOOD THIS, HE JUST
THOUGHT I WAS DWELLING, I SUFFERED THROUGH THIS, I CAN'T BE LIKE
THE OLD BATTILAX, DAD, I CAN'T BE THE PERSON, DAD WANTED ME TO BE
I DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE HIM AND MUMMY, ESPECIALLY NOW, THAT HE IS DEAD
AND WE LAID DADS ASHES, IN COPPINS CROSSING, WITH JUST ME, MY BROTHER
AND MY MOTHER, I BROUGHT BUDDHA WITH ME, AND PUT A BIT OF DAD ON BUDDHA'S LAP, AND DID A LITTLE CEREMONY, AS I WAS TRYING TO BURY
DADS SPIRIT, SO HE CAN SOON GET REINCARNARTED AS ONE OF DAVID AND
LISA CAMPBELL'S TWINS, ROBIN WILLIAMS IS THE OTHER ONE, I DROWNED
BUDDHA, TO FINALLY BURY MY DAD, AND LET THIS FAMOUS BUSHWALKER
OF OLD TO FLOAT ON COPPINS CROSSING, I BELIEVE IN GOING TO ATHENA
UP IN THE SKY, FOR COSMIC DENTAL WORK, RATHER THAN DADS REALISTIC WAY
DENTISTS ARE QUACKS, WHO ARE AFTER YOUR CASH, PARACETAMOL AND
TOOTHPASTE AND COKE, HELPS YOUR TEETH BETTER, AND NOW DAD AS
HE FLOATS AROUND IN COPPINS CROSSING, THINKING, I MUST, HELP THE WORLD
UNDERSTAND, BRIAN, AND I HATED DAD TREATING ME LIKE THIS LITTLE SHY BOY, OR HE WANTED, IS TO SAY THE LAST FUCKEN WORD
THIS BUDDHIST ISN'T AFRAID OF GOING TO JAIL, I HATE GOING TO JAIL, I PREFER
THE PSYCH WARD, CAUSE IT'S SAFER, BUT I PREFER TO BE WELL, SO I DON'T
GO TO EITHER, I AM NO PHEADPHILR OR KIDNAPPER
\
I AM A BUDDHIST ARTIST AND WRITER AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER
WHO LOVES TO PARTY DOWN, OUT OF SQUARE TOWN, I AIN'T SQUARE
I AM RADICALLY AWESOME DUDE
hi dudes



i think my creativity is the key for me looking and staying young, i know what i am about to say sounds

negative, but i believe that i will never ever work at common ground, only because of what happened in

1990 with the kid and 2004 with the cat, you see i am still scared of going to the psych ward, after what

happened in 2013, , you see every time i get myself together, in the work front, something bad happens

even, being famous, i have got a lot of youtube views, and i want to make future posts, but i my mind of helping

people or being famous is very delusional, i want to be given a go, on TV, but it’s mighty hard for the little people

such as me, i realise i might have ****** people off, in some emails, but, it’s because, i want more out of life rather

than being a mentally ill ****** to be stuck in the psych ward, i hate the psych ward, i am watching prisoner to learn

how to keep myself out of the psych ward, i hear too many voices for the work at common ground and i really want

to work through my voices in ART and WRITING, i know i have designed a few buildings and sports grounds

you see i hear voices from patrick, because i am feeling my little young dude/hooligan coming back to me to

show me how bad i felt being treated like a little young dude, the main reason why i fought dad, because i drew

a triangular shape with a stick stabbing through the centre, dad hated it, i wrote on my arm kidnap 11 year old boys

and my carer was very upset, i do want to help the poor, but my past looks like will be against it, and i want to

fight my way to the top, not literally, but i feel i am fighting my way to the top with art and writing, you can’t do everything

and really i am feeling my shy man/hooligan trying to turn me into a weird man, and i don’t wanna look weird

i want to be fit, and healthy, and i want rupert murdoch and tony abbott to give their fortunes to help the poor people out

because if my situation was different, i would be a philanthropist, but i am not rich, but i still give, i want to have constant reminders

in my next life, to make sure poor people are well looked after, like, i see my world coming to life with common ground,

i look like i inspired it, because so many people are willing to help it, i want to still be a youtube entertainer, but i might be

a bit delusional there as well, expecting ellen will ring me up, or home and away will let me whack alf stewart with the belt

because he was an army guy, but i was sick back then, i appreciate the help mental health have given me, ya know chances

to be famous, i just worry  about being kidnapped by people i want to help because that is helping, by placing yourself in harms way

i would like to work on my art, and if anything, i would like a few pictures i have to brighten up the people’s day at common ground and

i am unsure of how to do that, my mind isn’t really into doing courses for jobs, i know i need to do a food hygiene course, i won’t get a job

at common ground unless you can give my entertaining delusion a go, but still that might still require a work with venerable person check

and really i want the voices to stop but while i still have voices saying, that i am still a little young baby young dude ringing around in my head,

it might be hard to work with venerable people, because the voices are driving me nuts, I WANT THEM TO STOP, and i can’t work at common ground

with voices like these, i can ignore the voices reading a poem on 2xx, because the voices will fade as i read, and the only job i could do in the famous world

is probably be one of the writers because my brain is too intense, and it can make me insane, insane in the membraiin insane in the brain

i feel like yelling like a schizophrenic, and just imagine me working with venerable people with these voices, i hear

everyone wanting to go to bed, but because they don’t want to muck with me in going to bed groups they sit up saying your like mrs allan, brian

and as i went to bed, the image of my old school chum pat is sitting up all night, and the image is plastered in my head and despite how much fun

i have staying up all night, it doesn’t work for me doing my art, so i am prepared to battle these demons and go to bed at 12.00, but i am not like

canary though, going to bed before midnight, where i can turn into a pumpkin, some woman doesn’t want me to film her kids and that is why i

don’t put many videos on youtube, i want to learn how to post legally, but i feel some videos are put on with me under delusions, posting on youtiube

like that, isn’t worth it, if i am always watching my back, but i still want to read my poems on youtube, i am learning more than people who are trained

to help does, but i don’t want to help like that, i find it hard with my voices to wait for videos of performances to load up, and i felt better when i did my

own stuff, the medication is making me shake a bit, and though there is nothing wrong with what i was doing on youtube to me, i am going back to

posting videos of myself reading stories and poems, cause i feel as naughty as a hooligan, and that ain’t brian allan’s style, maybe in my next life

i can be a proper youtube entertainer for awards, and i just sit there doing my tapestry watching sport like a guy over the internet, but i swill never

be too woosey for the computer world, because i feel like a naughty hooligan, and i upset my family a lot without meaning too and i don’t want to

upset my fans, and i know i have fans, i check my views, god your a fool brian, i hear the MEN say, i don’t want to go back to LEAD either, because

they teased me like how you tease a freaking hooligan, i am not a hooligan i am a real family person, and i am 45 years old, i shouldn’t behave like

a kid who needs discipline for the rest of my life, i don’t want mental illness, i like to be a success story
GfS Mar 2016
Getting close to people
half-heartedly
will only give you suffering
but alas, sadly
so does getting closer

Maybe, that's why
if one day we do
I would yearn for you
more than I should
it frightens me
to my very core
that you'd leave me
like the rest would
History has quite the habit
of repeating itself
Oi, Manchester, why are you so blue?
You built it all, there is nothing you can't do.
We were here first and we will be here last,
Our future is bleak? Well, so was our past.
We've had more than our share of ups and downs,
Aye, it's grim up north, but every class needs its clowns.

Oi, Manchester, chin up arr kid,
If they ask you who built it, you tell 'em we did,
We built this city with rock and roll,
Through rain and shine, with northern soul,
The only thing we never built was a great northern wall,
We invited each people and we welcomed them all.

Manchester, mate, things will get better,
Mother nature tries beat us but we've never let her,
No matter the odds or how savage their action,
We are the great power house, we never lose traction.
Each time we're knocked down we rebuild from the ashes,
we shoulder each other, we each take lashes.

Oi, Manchester, don't you forget your station,
We are the heart, we are the brain and the spine of a nation.
It was here we split the atom, and here where Rolls met Royce,
Swing those monkey arms and sing your Mankey voice
Be proud, be loud, there's no need to tiptoe,
And always remember that WE created VIMTO.

Oi, Manchester, I don't 'alf miss THAT smile,
It's the whole hog, the bees knees, the best by a mile,
There will be a day when we all laugh again,
Brighter, more hopeful, more promising then,
There will always be dark before the dawn,
But, oi, this is manchester, where all dreams are born.
Manchester pride, a reaction to how Corona has subdued my city. We will smile again, arr kid, keep being awesome.
THE ALLAN FAMILY STORY = THE QUEST TO KEEP BRIAN WITH THE FIGHTERS AND KEEP HIM BULLIED



YA SEE, BRIAN WAS HAVING A HARD TIME, BATTLING HIS VOICES, AND ONE

VOICE ESPECIAL;LY WAS HIS FIGHTING WITH DAD GETTING BACK ON HIM

WITH A FEW OF HIS BEST MATES, AND EACH TIME BRIAN WENT TO PAT’S HOUSE

HE REALLY LIKED HOW, THEY SHARED, FISH AND CHIPS AND CHICKEN AND ALSO

AND A NICE PIZZA, YEAH BRIAN AND PAT WERE JUNK FOOD JUNKIES AND PAT

WAS REALLY NICE TO THE OWNER, ALWAYS ASKING HOW HIS BUSINESS WAS,

WHILE, BRIAN JUST SAT THERE TALKING TO PAT, ABOUT LYLE DOES, IN HINDSIGHT

IT WAS LEADING TO A WHOLE HEAP OF TEASING LIKE ME WITH DAD COMING BACK

TO HAUNT ME, LIKE WHEN I DIDN’T WANNA FIGHT A VOICE WOULD CROWD PAT’S HEAD

YEAH YOU GO AWAY LIKE THE COWARD THAT YOU ARE, AND I TOLD MUM, AND SHE SAID
CANBERRA ARE OUT TO GET YOU, BUT BRIAN DISAGREES, CAUSE BRIAN  HATED THE VOICES

OF DISTRUCTION, YA SEE, BRIAN WAS BEING YOUNG WHEN HE DREW ON HIS ARM, LIKE

A PEN TATTOO, AND DAD HATED THIS, WHICH FORCED BRIAN TO GET INTO A VERY BIG

FIGHT WITH DAD, SAYING, HIT ME WITH YA RHYTHM STICK, HIT ME, OH HIT ME AND DAD

SAID, BUDDY, I WILL HIT YA, BUT I DON’T WANT TO HIT YA, YOUR MY SON, AND I DON’T WANT

TO ENCOURAGE VIOLENCE WITH YOUR MATES BRIAN, AND MY BROTHER YELLED OUT KEEP

BLUDGING ON HIM BRIAN SURE MATE, AND BRIAN TRIED TO KIDNAP HIMSELF ON HIS PARENTS

BECAUSE, DESPITE BRIAN’S PARENTS BEING NICE, THEY WERE TWO OLD FOGIES AND BRIAN

WALKED AROUND FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE, TRYING TO FIND HIS MATES, TO ESCAPE HIS DAD

BUT BRIAN BECAUSE, HE WAS CRONUS, HAD TO BECOME A WRITER, CAUSE THE ALIEN INSIDE

OF HIM, MADE HIM COMMITT A BAD CRIME, LIKE TIE UP AN 11 YEAR OLD BOY, AND ALL BRIAN’S

MATES SAID TO BRIAN WHY DID YOU DO THIS, WHY!, AND BRIAN SAID, IT FELT GREAT AT THE TIME

AND PAT SAID, LET’S LEAVE HIM ALONE FOR NOW, BUT WE HAVE TO MAKE THIS COWARD PAY

FOR WHAT HE DID, BUT BRIAN WAS UNDER, PSYCHOSIS, OF TED BUNDY’S EVIL REIGN, OPAT

WAS NICE TO BRIAN, AND BRIAN LIKED PAT A LOT, AND HEARING THE VOICE OF PAT TREATING

HIM, LIKE A MAN TO A FIGHT, MAKES BRIAN SCREAM OUT ‘WHY ARE YOU ******* WITH ME BUDDHA

AND EVERY TIME I GET UP AND MOVE ON, THE STUPID FORCE KEEPS ME FROM LOOKING

YOUNG EVEN IF I HAVE NEVER BELIEVED IN GROWING OLD AND FUCKEN WEAK.

YOU SEE AS I RUN UP THE ROAD, I HEAR THIS VOICE, SAYING, YEAH GO AWAY AND RUN

LIKE THE LITTLE COWARD THAT YOU ARE, YOU LOST OUR FAITH IN YOU BRIIURN

YOU LOST OUR FAITH IN YOU, YA SEE, I ALSO HEAR THIS VOICE SAYING, IF YA WANNA BE LIKE US

BRIURN BEHAVE YOURSELF, CAUSE, YOUR NOT A YOUNG DUDE, AND BRIAN SAID, VOICE

I WANNA GET TO ADELAIDE, AND LIVE, I WANNA BE A HOLLYWOOD ACTOR, I WANT TO BRING SUSIE TO

BE BRAX’S GIRLFRIEND ON HOME AND AWAY,AND I WANT TO WHACK ALF STEWART WITH THE BELT

BUT THIS VOICE SAYS, IN A HORRIBLE VOICE, VERY SARCASTICALLY REPEATING EVERY WORD

THAT CAME OUT OFR MY MOUTH, YOU SEE THE COSMOS WANTS ME TO BE SHY, BUT DUDES

I DON’T WANT TO GET FOUGHT, CAUSE LATELY I DON’T **** PEOPLE OFF, MY PAST IS DEAD AND BURIED

AND WHILE I SAW PAT, MY BROTHER PLAYED TENNIS BY THE HOUSE, AND PAT SAID, I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR

BROTHER, SEE YA LATER, I AM NOT YA DADDY, BRIAN, BRIAN CAME OUT TOO, AND WE ALL JOKED AROUND TOGETHER

DAD AND MUM WERE TRYING TO TREAT ME LIKE SOMETHING I AM NOT, A COOL KID TO SQUABBLE WITH

JUST BECAUSE, DAD THOUGHT I HANDLED MY BROTHER SHYLY TO HIS OLD FOGIE WAY

AND THAT IS WHAT STARTED A LITTLE FUED WITH DAD, ME BEING A LITTLE SHY BOY TO HIM

HE WAS AN OLDIE, LIKE THAT. ENJOY YOURSELF PATRICK
Donall Dempsey Jun 2018
IN X ANADU....IT'S...COMPLICATED.

"Life should not be lived
in black and white...

...but, in colour!"
Coleridge thinks.

"Man should not believe in
'No-can-do"

but in 'Yes...
we can!'

Even a legless man can
dance the Can-Can

with the uppermost part
of his body and

dancing with imaginary
legs!"

Sammy( sometimes he )
displaces himself into

the  third person
decanting the fine wine of the mind.

"Naw...scrub that line
don't know where in hell I was

going with it.
Gawd! This laudanum is strong!"

And so, he sits, sips and pens
in a vision or a trance if you like

a dream of future-time
where people can be made

into paper replicas
of themselves.

The "picture-graph"
he calls it

for want
of a better word.

And now he pushes the boat out
pictures that can talk and walk

so that even the dead
will flicker for a second

back into the life
they had.

A world going to ***
and other such drugs.

Machines that can take your voice
and fling it over to...say...Japan

and back and forth
again.

The world shrunk to your hand
" a miracle of rare device."

Just think!
Think of it man!

Or to be Blake-an about it:
"What is now proved was once, only imagin'd."

"I have a dream..." the poet proclaims
beginning to sound like a speechwriter

"...that one day man
may fly...sitting down in the sky!"

Oh I'm really getting going now!
Laughs at his mind's daring derring-do!

Gawd....this laudanum is strong!

And that one day facebook(sic)
will come to be.

"...things unfathomable to man!"
These the dark caverns of the mind.

Cute cat videos...selfies
whatever!

"Look here is a picture
of my dinner!"

Relationships: It's...
...complicated.

He crosses out "unfathomable"
writes "immeasurable" above it.

"...miracles of rare device..."
So good I've said it twice.

Such "...mingled measures..."
will life be really so?

Suddenly a 'ping" or some
such thing!

A message request from
Kubla ****** Khan.

Now one is being poked
by some bloke

an Alf
from Porlock it would appear.

Good Gawd is that really his
Profile Pic...he looks sick.

Claims to be a Jehovah's Witness
and can he come 'round and

have I found
Jesus?

Jaysus no! Delete...delete!

This facebook is
"...a savage place...

as e're beneath a waning moon
was haunted..."

Bit flowery that but
it will have to do.

Now **** it all to hell
where ****** was I?

And now...now...this very now
a poem put upon my timeline.

My timeline's mine!

Yet another poem by some
"woman wailing for her demon lover."

Is it my imagination or
are there more demon lovers around

than this time
last summer?

Humming some **** tune
by that Olivia Newton John.

An annoying earworm.

Ada Lovelace
wants to be my friend

even though she isn't
even born.

Oh get a life!

Do I 'heart' Byron"
"Wot...that ***!"

Describing her mindset as 'poetical
science."

Goes on and on
about an analytical machine

and how individual and society
relate to technology

as a collaborative
tool.

She makes me feel
a fool.

I deign to
decline.

This stately "pleasure dome"
device is not for me.

I delete my future
account and listen

to the dear  birds
( alas no albatross )

in my lime tree bower
as they twitter.

Make myself a cup of tea.
No sugar.

Constipation is
killing me.

Eat an egg out of a tea cup.
A fat slice of ham.

Gawd! This laudanum is strong!

I do not like things
"...flung up momently..."

"I close my eyes with
holy dread and cry

Beware! Beware!"

Have... God...
**** run out of laudanum!

And so set out
for Porlock

avoiding Alf
if I can.
Kubla Khan
BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE
Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
   Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
   The shadow of the dome of pleasure
   Floated midway on the waves;
   Where was heard the mingled measure
   From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

   A damsel with a dulcimer
   In a vision once I saw:
   It was an Abyssinian maid
   And on her dulcimer she played,
   Singing of Mount Abora.
   Could I revive within me
   Her symphony and song,
   To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.


Oh that naughty Lord Byron making such an *** of Sam!

Shall gentle COLERIDGE pass unnoticed here,
To turgid ode and tumid stanza dear?
Though themes of innocence amuse him best,
Yet still Obscurity's a welcome guest.
If Inspiration should her aid refuse
To him who takes a Pixy for a muse,
Yet none in lofty numbers can surpass
The bard who soars to elegize an ***:
So well the subject suits his noble mind,
He brays, the Laureate of the long-eared kind.

***
Ada Lovelace (1815-1852) was born Augusta Ada Byron, the only legitimate child of Annabella Milbanke and the poet Lord Byron. Her mother, Lady Byron, had mathematical training (Byron called her his 'Princess of Parallelograms') and insisted that Ada, who was tutored privately, study mathematics too - an unusual education for a woman.

Ada met Babbage at a party in 1833 when she was seventeen and was entranced when Babbage demonstrated the small working section of the Engine to her. She intermitted her mathematical studies for marriage and motherhood but resumed when domestic duties allowed. In 1843 she published a translation from the French of an article on the Analytical Engine by an Italian engineer, Luigi Menabrea, to which Ada added extensive notes of her own. The Notes included the first published description of a stepwise sequence of operations for solving certain mathematical problems and Ada is often referred to as 'the first programmer'. The collaboration with Babbage was close and biographers debate the extent and originality of Ada's contribution.

Perhaps more importantly, the article contained statements by Ada that from a modern perspective are visionary. She speculated that the Engine 'might act upon other things besides number... the Engine might compose elaborate and scientific pieces of music of any degree of complexity or extent'. The idea of a machine that could manipulate symbols in accordance with rules and that number could represent entities other than quantity mark the fundamental transition from calculation to computation. Ada was the first to explicitly articulate this notion and in this she appears to have seen further than Babbage. She has been referred to as 'prophet of the computer age'. Certainly she was the first to express the potential for computers outside mathematics. In this the tribute is well-founded.
The fugitives invaded me in the
sixties series somewhere on
TV,
one armed bandits
one eyed half wits
we watched it all
Janssen
Thinnes and
that lot on the bins
for
a touch of class.

Alf Garnett
he could be a gas
and Irma down the Street
with her
coronation chicken feet.

Taken over
one channel at a time
sublime?


Well it was all in Black and White,
so we could tell the day from night, but
not real life you understand
just pictures on a screen
now repeated
though I have seen them all before
I watch again
I so adore

**** York

Samantha,
wiggling her nose

Bouquets of barbed wire
tied to a rose.

Top cat smarter than Kojak
and the Flintstones in their
dream homes down in Bedrock.

Knock me up some dreams to dream
and I'll scream ******
Norman Bates
Hitchcock laughed at
those blind dates.

Niven
Cribbens
Poppins

moons and balloons and railway children
who'll then tell me where it went then?
Standing for the Anthem,
auntie Beeb and then some
chips and curry sauce of course
it's how we rolled in
Lancashire
Jerry Howarth Oct 2021
This is not a poem, this is a story of a an 83 yr old man, that
got away with lying aboat his actual age, so he could box,
for the light weight Dallas County Iowa, championship.

"Howath is the name and these are my two knock out fists, Gerald
and Ron, and I'm here to sign up for the light heavy weight championship boxing title of Dallas County."

That was my official registration to the County boxing Commisson.
They of course ask me my age and some other questions related to
my boxing experience, to which I lied very convincingly.

By the way, the way to lie convincinly is to literally believe yourself what you are lying about. I had spent hours telling myself the lies I told the Boxing Commission, so they had no doubt about what I told them about my boxing experience. I even had some fake newspaper articles about my boxing experiences that I printed on my home printing press. I'll tell more about this later in this story.

What motivated me o do this, was the current chjampion was the
Grandson of one of my high school class mates that I detested, because h was such a proud blow hard, about every athletical thing
he did, from being a baseball pitcher, a running back football player,
a wrestler and on and on he bragged about himself. One time when
I could not somach his bragging and pompous ay he walked, I confonted him to his face, actually his chin, as that was as close to
his face I stood. He was aout 6' 4'' and I was slightly over 6'. I looked him in the eyes and told him I and every one else in school was sick
and tired of his bragging about himself.

He then sneared a me, reached down and gabbed me by the coller of my shirt, and said. "Why you little dumb pimpsqueet, you aint nothing but a hog raising farm boy!" and shoved me hard against
the hall way wall, so I smacked the back of  my head against it, and
knocked out for a few minutes, long enough for someone dumping a cup full of water on my face to bring me alert. Then ol blow hard
spread it around that I had attemped to hit him and he "just naturally" defended himself and gave me a little shove.

But back to the main part of this story, I had been working out in the city gym, workig on my cardio, thats my breathing. I had been keeping up with my physical condition all of my life, so for an 83 yr old man  I am in good physical shape. I have been punching the heavy bag on daily basis , and have had someone bouncing a heavy medicine ball on my stomach five minutes every day, so I have  those three muscle stand outs on my stomach, tht every body ooos and aaas about.

I also sparred with young boys around 20 and 30 years old, convincing them I was just 28, by my foot work and bobbing and weaving and left hand jabs. I still had a good head of hair, which I
had dyed a light black, which also convinced the boxing commission that I was 38, actually the year I was bornd, 1938

My boxing bout with the young grandson of this high school class mate that I detested, was suppoe to be just a warm up match for him, in preperation for a title fight. He was the Dallas County Light Heavy Weight champion defending his title against some unbeaten
opponant. My goal was to knock him out, and disqualify his title fight.

Oh yes, I neglected to mention my boxing manager, who was a young 62 year old retired boxer. He didn't grow up in
Dallas County, Iowa,  so he had no idea of my bckground age. He came from New York or New something.  I had him convinced that I was just 38 yrs old also. I grew up in a small town called Clive about 60 miles from Des Moines, were the fight was scheduld. Clive was a town with a population of around 2500 when I lived there. Most of the people who knew me are living under ground,
or in a old folks home, so the secret of my age will not be revealed.
,
This grandson of the school mate I detested, is just like his Dad, a smart mouth, bragging, pompous, cocky strutton show boat. He has no idea who I am, but has already started boasting about what he is going to do t me.

"Hey, I'm only 27 yrs old and this old man I'm fighting is 38 yrs old. Somebody will have to help him through the ropes to get in the ring." "What's an old man like him still thinks he is a boxer?

"He ought to be sitting on his back porch, watching the rabbits and squirrels hop around."

"He claims  to be 38 yrs old, I'll knock him out in 38 seconds in round 3."
   ,
He came to the gym when I was working out one morning to scout me out; I put on an act of being slow and winded.

He yelled at me from a few feet away, "Hey old man, my kid sister
has a faster jab then you. You sure you want to fight me?"

My manager walked up to him, and gave him a double arm shove
out the door, so hard he stumbled. "You big mouth punk, crawl
back in the skunk hole you came from."

                           The Big Fight

I was in the ring first, and was warming up wih litle dance steps I had had learned in a dance studio, which I intended to use on him, BTW  his name was Virgil Thornley, but he took pride in calling himself, "V T"=Very Tuff.

He was taking his time coming to get nto the ring,  and when he did decide to enter, he did so with a bunch of short skirted cheer leading girls dancing to loud music being played. When he approched the ring, two of the girls, squatted down on one knee and VT than made a big show of standing on each of their leg, and pushed himself off, tumbling over the ropes onto the ring apron.
amid 40,000 loud cheering fans.

"Enjoy it while you can VT, becaus in about 15 minutes, five three minute rounds, yu're gonna have 40,000 stunned fans looking at you, sprawled half way under the ring ropes, watchng the referee
waving the fight over."
                                ROUND ONE
JT came quickly to the center of the ring with a stupid looking
grin on is face, hands down, swinging back and forth at his waist level.

I took a couple steps towad him, then through him a big surprize,
that stopped him in his tracks. I did a little two step tap dance, and in the few seconds it took him to recover from surprize, I took a quick step toward him and shot out a left jab, purposly hitting
his right eye. Over my years of boxing experience, I developed a
fast twist at the end of the jab. This little twist would tear the skin
producing a cut in the eyebrow, which it did to VT. I don't think he had ever bee cut before by the way he wiped his eye, leaving his face unprotected, of which I took advantage, and smacked him with
another quick jab on his nose, drawing another spurt of blood.

VT wasn't expexcting such an early barrage of attack, and strted back peddling. Once again, I put on my little tap dance,
to a 40,00 applauding, whistling crowd of men, women and teen agers. By now ol VT had no idea what to do with me. He took a quick look over at his corner for help. And when he did I took a big step foward and planed to quick left jabs on each of his eyes.

I heard the fight annoncer telling the radio listners, he had never seen such a show boating boxer like  Howarth is putting
on. He has VT totally confused, not knowing what to do with
him. He came in to this fight as a warm up for his upcoming defensive championship fight with Scrapiron Peel and he is being bloodied and cut up, by what in the boxing sport is considered old, a man close to his 40's but is moving like a 25 or 26 year old. Folks I don't recall Howarth in any past fights, but uh, hang on a moment Howarth is moving around VT, bobbing, weaving and talking to him, I can't quite read his lips, but someting about going down in uh, some round. Meanwhile VT continues to back peddle away from Howath, who is trying to cut him off....Oh! now Howarth stops chasing him and motioned with his hands to come in and fight. There's the bell ending this third round.

There is some kind of commotion going on behind me.... some one wants to tell me something, but is being detained by the police.
Hey officers, let him talk to me. Folks, this is the crasiest night I have ever experienced, let's see what this old man, I'm serious about Old, He mst be  "Uh how old are you, sir?"

"I'm just a couple years younger than Howarth. We  grew up together in Perry, Iowa. I'm 81 years old and that old man in the ring, he was known as "Howie" is 83 years old and...."

"Hold on just jack rabbit minute! Are you telling me, that Howarth,
  what did you call him? Howie, that boxer in the ring,  beating VT, the current light weight Dallas County champion, is 83 years old? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yep, dats whot Im sayng.We growed up t'gether, in da same school t'gether, wrestled and boxed t'gether, and I'm 81 years old and he was alays 2 yars older'n me, so I knows he is 83 yars old.

Folks., getting back to the igh, VT is circuling to his right to get in position to throw is left hook and then is righ overhand knock ut puncht . I think Howie is aware of what VT is trying and keeps circing to his left.


This is the  the round Howarth bragged he would KO VT. VT is coming out in his usual swagering way, Howarth had him intimiated in the first four rounds, with his little dancing jig and blooding his nose and eye. VT wasn't use to that kind of pressure, but his corner manager and some others that joined him, gave him a little pep talk, and so he has regained his cofidence. As usual Howarth, trys his little tap dance aa he approaches VT, it's gotten a little much and no one is cheering it.

I failed to ask you, old man, your name"

"I was known as Scrapieon in Perry, my real ame isRichard Peel.
Yo said dis is da round Howie is going to lower da boom on this young feller?"

"Well that's what he told the fight reporters in the news paper. But frankly, I have doubts that he can do it. Thus far all I've seen from your friend is  a few left jabs. He hasn't used his right in the entire fight."

"Well you just keep your eyes on his right; what yor going to see is a flurry of left jabs, ad out of nowhere his right and will suddenly show up and that will be the end of the fight."

Well folks there is just three minites left i thos round, if Howie is going to KO VT, he is ging tp alf to get more agressie than, oh,Howie just connected with a double left jab, and another one and he had VT weak leggedfromma barrage of jabs. He looks like he is about to go down OH WOW Howie hit him with a straight right hand punch right between his eyes and VT is on the canvas, tryng too ge up, the count is up to 5, 6,7 VT was up at the cnt of 8 bt collapst. The referee is waving the figt over, and tne Dallas County  light heavy weight champion has been kocked out by Howie Howarth in the 5th round just as he predicted.
ROUND oxing epeiec
The slum

When I was born the manger was occupied
I got a cot at a Home run by the salvation- army
and stayed the until my step-grandmother committed suicide  
by jumping out of the third-floor window, she was going
to join my grandfather
A funny thing about the window it kept opening up by itself
for years afterwards.
The home, the SA ran was called the slum, the flat we got
nearby, as was also the big white house belonging
to a shipping magnate, he was born in the house and was
not about to leave for a fancy building out of town.
For us children, it was just a name and had no connotation  
of poverty or low life.
My best friend Alf lived permanently at the Home and later
became a chief train conductor in South Africa.
I met him once in Johannesburg entrenched in middle classness
big house and servants, something of a change from the slum.

— The End —