"darlington" poems
In late year retrospect,
half night suggests,
beyond Darlington junction,
an amber lining at street's end.
©2013 Alex Bex - www.alexbex.net
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
George Merle had to take a trip to Calgary for a medical assessment at the bidding of his union. He had to be there June 24th at 9:00 a.m. to se a Dr. Paul Darlington. George was apprehensive to say the least.
George made a booking at a motel close to the clinic. He also made a booking to fly from Regina to Calgary the evening of the 23rd.
He arrived in Calgary and took a cab to the motel near the clinic. He made himself comfortable in his room and tuned on the T.V. Around 10:00 p.m. the evening began to drag and things were getting pretty boring.
He left the comfort of his room and went out into the cool crisp night air for a stroll. He passed an all night tavern. He went in, sat down and ordered a coke.
Inside the dimly lit tavern he met a man whose name was Blakie. Blakie was dressed in, you guessed it, black. he had a full black bear, wore a black leather jacket, and a black New Jersey Devil's peaked cap.
Blackie told George a few food jokes and they became fast friends. Blackie said he was from the Mission down the street, also they would go there later for a bite to eat. He then ordered George a drink.
When the drink arrived Blackie paid for it. George sipped the drink, it tasted good so he drank it down. The affect the drink had on him was devastating. The music became deafening, the room spun, strove lights flashed all around him. Blackie suggested the go outside for some fresh air.
Once outside, George stumbled in the street. Blackie grabbed him, kept him from hitting the ground, but at the same time surreptitiously stole his wallet. They stumbled down the street to a poorly lit doorway that read Mission of Lost Souls.
They reached a plateau and a door that said Belfry. He had the dry heaves then opened the door. The door to the belfry creaked open. His eyes took a minute to adjust to the light of the moon. There was a huge raven sitting, staring at him atop a 4x4 crosspiece that supported the bell.
Then an eerie voice that seemed to come from nowhere said, "What is your name, why have you come here?"
"My name is George, I have come to find a better way of life."
The raven began to caw loudly as if laughing at him. It flapped its wings and took off. It flew wildly right through one of the stained glass windows. There was a loud crash and scream that cried, "You will forget?"
Once again the eerie voice said, "What is your name, why have you come here?" He could not remember his own name. He was completely perplexed and mumbled, "I don't know.
He returned to the Mission of Lost Souls and thereafter became known as "Ralph." The Mission of Lost Souls had claimed its 617th victim, George Merle never made it to his appointment with Dr. Paul Darlington in Calgary on the 24th.
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 8:05 PM UTC
there is that swimming hole we used to go to we don’t
go visit no more cause it reminded you of
the time years ago your uncle stepped on a
dead child sunk in the sand like a stone on
that bottom cold murky and dark that
swimming hole with the one dollar
ice cream sandwiches she had
possibly been down for
hours no one even
looked for her so
sweet and white
like a
quartz
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 5:11 PM UTC
the swimming hole we used to go to we don’t
go to anymore because it reminded you of
the time your uncle stepped on a
dead child in the sand there on the
bottom murky and dark at that
swimming hole with the
one dollar ice cream sandwiches
on the bottom that had drowned
hours before no one
had looked for it
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC