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"pack" poems
We're forced, each man, to walk a trialed path— resisted trek, uphill through blinding daze that shrouds with crucible's perplexing haze till fog-white skies yield quick to black clouds' wrath. Affliction brims a thorny pack to bear whilst dewy darkness drenches in the night, but where is calming lamp to lend us sight? And who will come to give us saving care? Here through veil is heard a whisper certain, then o'er the mountain creeps the dawning day and with clear eyes we see the brume give way as God retracts His theatre's curtain, unsheathing velvet waves whose morning sheen beyond grey mist splays vast and wondrous green.
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Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Drakensberg Sonnet
There were dividing lines between Springfield and Mariners Gate soft, subtle lines that spoke of origin and code and biting union it was all the reason for being; alive and living dead or dying deep in a pack of pint size resistors hell bent on the marsh crow and cannabis tower jumping the rush with *** shots and anchors and tribunals camouflage creepers and transient floaters marked rebellion at the gates (skullduggery and taunt high on their favor list) jack straws and flat paddles for the evening charade beakers and flailing hands from the foot washing baptist (the Pleasant Street conservatives with their own something to say…“there’s gonna be hell to pay!”) there's a lingering effect to this sentiment (evident in the pump house stride) the river winds blow gently into the night as the huddling packers and **** backs chase the evening hours it’s a bitter sweet end of an era; those traction bars hood scoops and nickel bags will always be the rage
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Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
Blood lines
1058 Bloom—is Result—to meet a Flower And casually glance Would scarcely cause one to suspect The minor Circumstance Assisting in the Bright Affair So intricately done Then offered as a Butterfly To the Meridian— To pack the Bud—oppose the Worm— Obtain its right of Dew— Adjust the Heat—elude the Wind— Escape the prowling Bee Great Nature not to disappoint Awaiting Her that Day— To be a Flower, is profound Responsibility—
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46.9k
Bloom—is Result—to meet a Flower
Alone the wolf roams, Through the mountains. She only wishes, To have a pack of her own..
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Lone Wolf
it falls through the glow of the wintry trees building a cover under the breeze luminous lights sparkle and hatch snow pack high on the briar patch pine cones fall from rustic fir squirrel and robin shuffle and stir sitka spruce at tunnel bluffs ravens roost on the cedar rough dusted peaks at hurley pass snowline cuts the avalanche fox and lynx are on the prowl hollow eyes from spotted owl cool winds up the valley trail whirling snow round diamond vale chilling flakes in candle hands moonlight shines across the land northern lights in krypton green the sounds of verve are bitter sweet curtains hang from a cold dark sky counting stars, a lullaby
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC
January, on its knees
Do you believe in destiny? That you were born for a certain need   A certain path you are told to follow Which you've no choice but to heed I was born to be a hero To protect those who are weak   I'm the one that will come running   When others begin to shriek I jump in the way of battles And protect the young from pain Seeing the people that I love be happy Is what I hope to attain Sometimes it gets lonely Standing out amongst the pack Sometimes it gets scary Having a target on your back When people see great power They want to make it their own The fact that one day I might lose Is something I've always known But knowing I've done some good And that I might've saved a friend Every single sacrifice I've made Was worth it in the end So it's with a smile on my face And with a kiss, I say goodbye Don't you shed a tear my love 'Cause sometimes heroes die
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 5:14 AM UTC
Warrior
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to **** you. You died before I had time ---- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My ****** friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ---- Not God but a ******** So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the ***** And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two ---- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagersnever liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you ******* I'm through.
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29.7k
Daddy
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to **** you. You died before I had time ---- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My ****** friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ---- Not God but a ******** So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the ***** And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two ---- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagersnever liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you ******* I'm through.
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Protect your pack; Show no fear; Respect the elder; Teach the young; Lead your companions; Survive each day; Hunt your enemies; Howl to a new tomorrow; Explore the unknown; Adapt to the environment; Demonstrate no weakness; Nerver back down; And leave you mark
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Code of the Wolf
She was not just "asking for it" Her skirt showing her long limbs She is not one to submit Or to give up when told to quit She will not stand for your catcall For your whistle and "hey there, doll" You should not be appalled Because she really can rule it all She is fierce and she is true She's neither higher nor lower, but she is equal to you Her body is not just something you can tear down and ***** So, pack your things and say adieu She is feminine As well as pure adrenaline Cease to examine this "specimen" And become a true gentleman
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May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Sexism Debunked
They brought them from the hollar to the barge to the field ~ into the wallows in prayer skinny little pinkers cropped by ivory gates buzzed with hot wire hooked on bug worm whistling dixie around scrummers and **** pen peckers squawk down eden lane (nipping at jean lint and fraystring) deep in the hollows a mad crow (with steady tap) the snouts high on grunters and squealers stomping past the feather pack folded fingers on the gatekeeper (an engineer by trade they'd say) pigtails and slack line down the dusty lane a snap of the jawbone and lawn chairs settle (facing north) the bold script and chimes uneasy
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
these pigs have no neurosis
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise. "i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
im going to write my own american horror story:coven fan fic here because i am bored.
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise. "i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
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Throw me to the wolves See if I don't come back Leading the pack Don't you know me Better than that? Resilience Never forget I'm the girl who loves you I'm strong and true I'll come out growling Barring my teeth for the world to see I dare you Just try and hurt me You won't succeed I'm swinging and biting Just try and push me down I'll stare at the ground Mesmerized by the sound Of me clawing your eyes out I got some fight left in me Resilience You'll see.... Tread carefully My claws are at the ready I got my whole pack behind me Literally Ready to snap necks and chew flesh The Girl Who Loved You is here to stay Standing strong Despite what you say Resilience Everyday Leading this pack of wolves Never astray
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
Resilience
Never try to trick me with a kiss Pretending that the birds are here to stay; The dying man will scoff and scorn at this. A stone can masquerade where no heart is And virgins rise where lustful Venus lay: Never try to trick me with a kiss. Our noble doctor claims the pain is his, While stricken patients let him have his say; The dying man will scoff and scorn at this. Each virile bachelor dreads paralysis, The old maid in the gable cries all day: Never try to trick me with a kiss. The suave eternal serpents promise bliss To mortal children longing to be gay; The dying man will scoff and scorn at this. Sooner or later something goes amiss; The singing birds pack up and fly away; So never try to trick me with a kiss: The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.
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23.4k
Never Try To Trick Me With A Kiss
He stands beside me, In awe of the sight before thee. His hand has mine. We both look at each other. Nothing can be told from his eyes. The eyes of Ashure haze. "Do not be afraid.. We are home." The sound of rushing water, Crashing into its ever blue. The beauty of the growth around it. I call it home. This was the place, Where the wolves shall be born. Creation of a pack. Has just begun. Werewolves alive. Waterfalls of Beauty. A family. For eternity.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
Waterfall, The Pack
i want to get high in foreign cities travel to places i have yet to lay my eyes on pack a bag and take off, my only motive to feel free i want to kiss lovers on pavement my toes have never touched beneath trees rooted with legends in their leaves ensuring everlasting love and i want to feel light, rather than weighed down anchored to one small town i want to drop everything and get away to places where time is altered and the stars are always present whether it be in the night sky or people's eyes i want to fall in love with strangers, cities, and scenes i crave so deeply to feel free to start anew but at the same time i want you to come too s.s
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Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
the crave for freedom
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
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Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
Betting on the Races
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
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60
. He liked to gather up the silence in the springtime   Pack it up and carry it in an old timeworn leather rucksack From a distance it looked like he was a senseless fool   Picking up handfuls of nothing; then putting it in an empty jar No mind is paid to the fleeting glance in the corner of a stranger's eyes   They were out of reach from the box he was living in He kept gathering up the endless silence like missing pieces of a lost soul    It seemed to be everywhere ―  and in it heard,  the only voice he knew Supposing all his thoughts pondered come forth of silence   Often resting sheltered beneath branches where it grew on the trees ― It wasn't just the songbird that broke the stillness in dappled sunlight   It was the dearth of love that rivers through a strong heartbeat’s silenced words ... Jesse Stillwater 04   May   2018
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
gathering silence
We live in a world, that's loaded down with greed. Man will do anything for money, falling to do a good deed. Man will take a chance, to traffic people across the boarder. They pack them in like sardines, and like a selfish hoarder. We will never stop allowing drugs, from entering our land. Men thinks that they are cleaver, by planting drugs, within the body of man. With the technology we have, something need to be done. The slavery of woman who 's brought to our country, to them, it's not fun. By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Trafficking
We sit beneath the mango tree You say, “I’ve got to go one day, you see…” I nod and smile for that’s far away… And I know deep down you really want to stay So we talk and learn about our lives Blaze right past all the normal lies I say, “I think I’m gonna miss you some…” You laugh and say, “God, you’re young.” If I’d known then how this was going to go There were more things I would have let you know Like that time we sat under the mango tree And my heart stopped when you first kissed me... While you were packing up your little home I was sitting, waiting by the phone Wondering where I’d gone so wrong Wishing your determinations weren’t so strong… The weeks crawl by and you don’t call I take the frustration out on my bedroom wall We both knew that this had to end But for that short time it was awfully nice to pretend So we meet under the mango tree I stare at you, and you stare back at me You say, “You knew I had to go one day.” I mutter back, “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” Then like a tragedy I left you there Unable to hold your penetrating stare There were more things that we both should’ve said But it seems we took the easy road instead The road whose paths would never have to cross So we’d never have to think about what we have lost But sometimes I still pass that mango tree And remember how you used to look at me, Smile about those shining, sapphire eyes, Marvel at the tree’s growing size, Laugh about the brief time we shared And pack away the memories with care
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Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
The Mango Tree
We sit beneath the mango tree You say, “I’ve got to go one day, you see…” I nod and smile for that’s far away… And I know deep down you really want to stay So we talk and learn about our lives Blaze right past all the normal lies I say, “I think I’m gonna miss you some…” You laugh and say, “God, you’re young.” If I’d known then how this was going to go There were more things I would have let you know Like that time we sat under the mango tree And my heart stopped when you first kissed me... While you were packing up your little home I was sitting, waiting by the phone Wondering where I’d gone so wrong Wishing your determinations weren’t so strong… The weeks crawl by and you don’t call I take the frustration out on my bedroom wall We both knew that this had to end But for that short time it was awfully nice to pretend So we meet under the mango tree I stare at you, and you stare back at me You say, “You knew I had to go one day.” I mutter back, “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” Then like a tragedy I left you there Unable to hold your penetrating stare There were more things that we both should’ve said But it seems we took the easy road instead The road whose paths would never have to cross So we’d never have to think about what we have lost But sometimes I still pass that mango tree And remember how you used to look at me, Smile about those shining, sapphire eyes, Marvel at the tree’s growing size, Laugh about the brief time we shared And pack away the memories with care
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**i'm in a dangerous state of mind with no care for living this life where human emotions are traded for less than a pack of rubbers but you didn't even use those so how much did i truly mean when the push came to shove and grinding hips with moaning lips that whispered, screamed, and cried his name on the night you ****** my heart away where loyalty takes a literal backseat to pleasure and a long term relationship is laughing stock material ha ha standup, ain't i funny to look for something more than this but i would choke on my own tongue before i'd speak bad of you my backstabbing lover unfaithful friend i hope to god it he was worth it the cost was more than just tears but blood spray on the bathroom mirror and an empty place where i once used to love permanently empty i can't find the will to care more than a few half-hearted, correct that, heartless obscenities muttered under my breath with ****** on my mind a 3:30am fantasy to help dull the pain that i should be feeling maybe i'm just a pessimist, fatalist, cynical, and negative but my lack of surprise cuts the most lied to by my mind for those two months of my life that i thought i had it all better to have loved and lost but even better to **** it all and just go out with your name on my lips and your lies in my heart i hope you think of me when you're with him that you choke on your tears plagued with the worst emotions and loss a better killer than any gun**
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Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
Cheater - A Rant
With all of the grand adventure awaiting you, I wish you could just pack me up in your suitcase too. That way, wherever you go, You'd have me and I'd have you.
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC
A Life Of Grand Adventure
** “Except for needs I can pack everything I have 
into my old black sea-bag.”  * ** "I wish I had written that line, I said loud enough for him to hear." He shuffled around in his stool and raised his cup to get   hit with a refill. Frustration wiggle I call it, you know like when your dad couldn’t let you struggle with a puzzle. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot announced his irritation "Where have you been, swimming shallow side?" "I stated swatting away needs like mosquitoes on sweat when I was seven." He peered past his coffee, furrowed his brow and rubbed his tongue over his lower lip. "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, why do you keep saying that, I asked" "Guess you’ve never been in the military. College man I reckin, fancy degrees and you don't know Alpha Zulu?" * From Alpha Zulu by Gary Lilley
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
I Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. II O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep river would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love, And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball, The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud; 'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera When music poured out of each wonderful star? Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down Over each silver and golden silk gown; 'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say: But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O but he was fair as a garden in flower, As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower, When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart; 'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover, You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other, The sea it was blue and the grass it was green, Every star rattled a round tambourine; Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay: But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
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15.2k
Funeral Blues
I Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. II O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep river would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love, And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball, The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud; 'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera When music poured out of each wonderful star? Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down Over each silver and golden silk gown; 'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say: But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O but he was fair as a garden in flower, As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower, When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart; 'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover, You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other, The sea it was blue and the grass it was green, Every star rattled a round tambourine; Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay: But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
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The deer are buried up to their necks in the sandy soil the struggle for purchase frees them into a pack of black wolves jaws
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
The deer