"shearer" poems
From the humblest of beginnings
Began a tough innings
A family deprived
His dad had died
So to work he went
To help pay the rent
From a teen to a man
In a short time span
He had many a job
Hard earned each “bob”
He was a keeper of bees
He picked beans and peas
With marbles and shanghai
He had a keen eye
So rabbits he’d stalk
Their pelts he sought
A butcher and baker
And fence post maker
A fisherman and fruiterer
And even spud picker
A shearer of great ability
Those shears he clicked with agility
From morn to night
He worked hard alright
Met a girl and made her his wife
Ten children now blessed his life
He provided as best he could
Forever working for their good
A large family and so little money
Life, of course, was not always sunny
Simply he lived, simple his dwelling
The trials he faced so very compelling
A ****** awful thing was done
A terrible tragedy stole his son
With grief immeasurable and untold
He held together; staying controlled
Children struggled to forgive their mother
As she left him and found another
Yet for her he would always stand
Always hoping to win back her hand
Another tragedy claimed a limb
We thought it would be the death of him
His work, his wife, his health now gone
Yet silently, painfully he continued on
We knew his heart was terribly broken
Yet always forgiveness he had spoken
We knew he lived with daily pain
But silent and strong he would remain
His strength and courage was beyond belief
But for him there would be no relief
His children were now all grown
He died, one night … alone
Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 12:49 PM UTC
For the first time on campus, Sisters on the Runway will strut and pose for domestic violence awareness.
Sisters on the Runway will be hosting its first annual fashion show from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. tonight in the Business Building. All proceeds will be donated to the Centre County Women's Resource Center, Layla Taremi president of the organization, said.
Sisters on the Runway is a national student-run organization that raises awareness about women and children who reside in domestic violence shelters. There are over five chapters throughout the nation, each supporting the same cause to local shelters. It was founded in 2009 and has grown since then, Taremi (sophomore-marketing) said.
Aside from the fashion show, which is the biggest fundraising event that the organization hosts, Sisters on the Runway is also responsible for other events. The organization hosts a chalking event where they write facts about domestic violence on sidewalks using chalk. This is a way for them to raise domestic violence awareness, Taremi said. It also hosts a walk where all participants walk a mile in heels for awareness.
The show will consist of eleven female models and three male models, Edie Alexander, the event planner, said.
Alexander said the show is expected to showcase clothing from Connections, Dwellings, Diamonds and Lace Bridal and Harper's, who are also their sponsors. Looks Hair Salon will be responsible for hair and makeup for the models in show, Taremi said.
"There is no theme for the show,” Taremi said. “It will be a wide spectrum of clothing."
The male models are expected to walk the runway showcasing suits and tuxedos, Taremi said. Originally the show was not going to include male models. It wasn't until the owners of Harper's decided to contribute to the show by donating some men's apparel for the fashion show.
All the models participating have been building up their confidence for the runway, Alexander (sophomore-recreation park and tourism management) said.
"I'm excited for our first annual fashion show, I hope this brings more awareness to the Penn State community," Vice President Lauren Shearer (sophomore-supply chain management) said.
The organization’s goal is to get a lot of people involved through different events to help raise awareness of domestic violence, Shearer said.
"We’re trying to push people to come, not just Penn State students, because it's not an issue that doesn't only affects college students,” Alexander said. “It affects everyone as well."Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
My boyfriend won’t cut his horrible hair
It’s quite a horrible mess
And it gives me quite a horrible scare
This I just must horribly confess
It takes hours to wash his hair
And hours more to get it dry
He resembles a tamed grizzly bear
And he doesn’t get just why
The tangles and knots cover his face
It’s practically impossible to see
There’s a boy hidden behind the space
Between the wild hair and shrubbery
I got him a comb to manage the terror
Before the stress gave me a stroke
But when he brushed it, I realized my error
When the comb I gave him, finally broke
I tried to introduce him to family
And it was a horribly embarrassing task
The scarcely groomed anomaly
Was what everybody talked about and asked
We went to the park and as we talked
A crow swooped down low
It sat in his hair and as we walked
It laid several eggs on the go
I finally had enough of his hair
And got a brand new lawn mower
How he’d react I did not care
His bushy hair days were finally over
When the monster mower growled
How my frightened boyfriend ran
As his hair fell off he howled
But out emerged a gentleman
He can finally see his face in the mirror
But there are hills of hair in the yard
I've learned skills of a master sheep shearer
But left my poor boyfriend heartbroken and scarred
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 5:39 AM UTC
upon the Abington Station's
long shearing board
the feats of one shearer
cannot be ignored
a run of two hundred sheep
he can easily shear
his style with the cutting comb
is without peer
contractors in the district
know of his pace
he removes fleeces
with an elegant grace
the Lister wool press
compacts all the long day
whilst the gun shearer
works tirelessly away
Kelpie dogs tongue
keeping his race full
as Layto shears the fine clips
of merino wool
none are as effective
with comb in hand
in the regional area
of the New England
Layto shears the sheep
cleanly and effortlessly
whether the fleeces
be thick or slightly oily
his shearing abilities
are know of near and far
on the shearing shed board
he's always bettered par
when he hangs up
the cutting comb to retire
fellow shearers will of him
greatly admire
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 6:18 AM UTC
The papers said she was a small-town girl
from Massachusetts, an aspiring actress with
the looks of Hedy Lamarr or Norma Shearer.
The boys, they liked her minced walk,
those black curls and tight black dresses,
But it was the smile that won you:
An aphrodisiac painted deep red.
The picture didn’t do her justice.
I examined her body on a cold slab on metal:
Black curls, upstairs and down, matted with
Dirt and blood. Body, cut clean in half.
I bent over to get a look at those eyes:
Death hadn’t yet stolen their blue.
Folks say she didn’t care for school, but studied
Movies religiously. She was determined
to be known by the world—one day,
With bags and ambitions, she fled
To California. Reporters called her a vagabond amongst
Other Lost Angels; no permanent address,
though her mother received letters every week.
When the cops brought her in to identify the body,
I pardoned the girl’s condition; I had not yet
Stitched up the sides of her mouth.
I hear the leeches got to the daughter first,
Calling up the poor mother
With some cockamamie story that her
Little Betty had won a beauty contest.
The mother answered their questions proudly,
Never the wiser, never know she was
Ghostwriting her own daughter’s obituary.
Betty’s pretty picture was soon plastered across
Headlines and the evening news:
I could still hear the mother’s shrill screams
From a few hours before. I had kept the girl’s
Severed body draped, to give her
Some dignity, but I couldn’t hide
her Glasgow smile.
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 6:32 PM UTC
Touring the cities of England and the UK
Back of a transit van, rocking up to anywhere that paid
The brothers Grimm and their trusty cohorts
Bonehead on rhythm, McCarroll on drums, Guigsy up to all sorts
That gig at the Wah Wah, King Tuts to be precise
Glasgow you beauty, **** the next show up in Fife
The man that found them, a mister Alan McGee
A Britpop revolution, all great memories
They came and most failed, that one gig on Top of The Pops
Menswear to Mansun and an array of rank haircuts where the seagulls did flock
We had the trendies in Camden all hanging around on their scooters with parka’s
Noel or Liam and that fella from Echobelly, anything to be famous and get on the telly
But then the times must end and it all turned a little sour
A few trudged on with an album or two, the Manics to Cast and the lyrics from John Power
Patsy and Liam had that cover on the front of Vanity Fair
Draped in Britannia, divorce on the cards, strange how no-one now cares
Good times they were without a worry in the world and a now gone era
Euro 96, Southgate’s miss and those goals from Teddy and Shearer
A time well remembered and days I’d love to see back
If not only for the music but for the not caring and the unforeseen great craic
Not to hate the now as times move on
But a day in the past, served at seventeen and to claim you were the one
Not to be asked I.D. and sneakily drink that Stella
laughing at the bar, king of the blaggers, not to be served again by that same fella
Before the phone and the apps, we used to meet face to face
Girl at the bar, a bit of blarney and a home number to suit, always up for the chase
Do you ring tomorrow and who’s going to answer
Her mum might be alright, but her dad could be a ******
I couldn’t imagine doing it all again now
Swipe left to say no or right to give it a go
Seems inhuman to me not to spark up a chat
But maybe that’s just me, stuck in past, I’m just old hat.
JJB
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
The land was veiled
and silence exultant -
p e r m e a t e d only by
sporadic
bird
calls
resonating from deep within the frozen forest
where life had retreated,
aghast by the glacial wind.
Cowering together,
dwellings shivered
ephemeral oak structures
bowed beneath
the freshly shorn lamb’s wool that enveloped all,
hastening,
the shearer continued.
You left this night,
without a whisper
of regret
across the interminable,
n u a i g furrows
u d l t n
that ridicule your lifeless,
even features - pitiless,
your sodden soles penetrated the ****** snow.
Impervious to such inclemency
I traipse deep into the thicket,
reminded of how earlier
I collected from this q u i v e r i n g coppice,
no more, no less
than my meagre allowance dictates.
Your stride is familiar,
for it was once mine
with metronomic ease I trace you,
further
further
further
traversing a promontory, I see you,
stood on a limestone plinth
overlooking
shimmering pasture below.
You turn; we face,
unwavering symmetry|
as stained crystals fall red with affliction
caressing the firmament I lace your name with my finger
indomitable,
no more.
©Thomas Gabriel
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 10:54 PM UTC
in the scraggy grass
beside the shearer's quarters
plovers made their nests
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
Somedays death settles in her iron threshold;
Bodies tangle, flying towards the ends of the earth.
The old angels told me the secret of the new angels -
they told me that lilies come in autumn,
and rain comes in drought.
Why they said this,
they said they could not tell.
Bringers of secrets in the moonlit night,
bringing the secrets to the shearer’s patients
in the damp hallways of their underground hospitals.
Fiery destruction, blood in the dungeons, deathly hollows,
broken springs, dried up wells,
parched throats, parched brains.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
the bleats of scores and hundreds of shorn sheep
all trying to find their friends (they do have friends)
in the melee across the fields after being set free from the shearer.
Its one continuous song, will go on into the night, these few very special days in the year. I will miss it when it stops. Like all the songs of nature.
Unique and familiar. I wonder if they hear my poetry.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC