Author Topic: Jubal's poems  (Read 151964 times)

Jubal

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« Reply #15 on: July 04, 2009, 06:32:17 PM »
Crowds
In a crowd
All are together
United
One cause
And yet, in an inescapable way

Alone

Behind the cries of joy
Shouts of anger
Screams of grief
There are people
Silent thought drift through red mists
Each to their own
Each to themselves
And
     At last
          Alone.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #16 on: July 05, 2009, 06:30:02 AM »
Shoes
What do shoes show us?
The footsteps of a wandering monk
The frayed laces of a Londn urchin
The worn soles of a favelador.

What do they mean?
The paths we have travelled
The memories of feet long gone
The first step to a distant star

What can we learn?
The pain and blisters of a long-harried messenger
The firm tread of a marching warrior
The piles upon piles of the shoes of the dead.

Who were they?
The small-footed yong and the bloat-footed old
The gallant young hero, the merchant, the nurse
And all of their shoes lie in the high walls of dread.
A bump against the neck
A person gone
Another shoe's journey's end.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #17 on: July 05, 2009, 08:52:41 PM »
Suzanna's Song

Do you need a friend?
Follow that road, I'll tell you why;
There's a friendly face there
Who will gather up the air
And lift your soul to the sky.

And when at times I find I'm down,
Suzanna comes to talk me round.
And when the road is getting tough
Her kind remarks are praise enough.

Are you broken on the trail?
Find Suzanna, and lift your feet
Though your boots may be lead
And your will be dead
You'll be running again after you meet.

And when at times I find I'm down,
Suzanna comes to talk me round.
And when the road is getting tough
Her kind remarks are praise enough.

Is it all too much?
Fly away from Calvary, leave the past behind
And find your strength again
When the bell tolls in the rain
And see the light, stop being blind

And when at times you find you're down,
Suzanna will come to talk you round.
And when the world's destroying you
Suzanna will help you too.
« Last Edit: July 07, 2009, 09:51:20 PM by Jubal »
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #18 on: July 06, 2009, 06:37:50 PM »
Night
The day is the story of our world.
Vivid.
Bright.
The unruly and wild sun beating down
Or the cold rains of winter shining in their leap to earth.

But after that?
A soft blaket begins to envelop the wolrd
Blotting out the night
And pulling us from the madness of our lives
I am still there in those darkling hours
Restless but resting
Trying to forget
To forget
To forget
The day, and the ills of the day
And the painful memories of the light.
Then. In the night.

In the day
There is shouting, fighting, anger,
Narrowed, jabbing eyes
That are softened by the night
And closed.
So then, in the whispering minutes
The wolrd turns to me
And the roads are paved with silver
The people are bold and unafraid
The trees sway in a wavering wind
And all the blossom falls in a whirlwind of white.
Then.
In the darkness
Of the night.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #19 on: July 07, 2009, 09:49:08 PM »
The Rising Sun
The high and heavy branches
Are moving in the breeze
Like a newborn, silent owlet
I look down from broadleaved trees.

And my silent eyes look
To the dew-covered grass
And the birdsong, in the rising sun
Can find me peace at last
In the sun
The rising sun.

There are cygnets on the shining lake
Cotton cloudlets in the air
Blackberry flowers bloom gleaming white
There are oak-leaves in my hair

And my silent eyes look
To the dew-covered grass
And the birdsong, in the rising sun
Can find me peace at last
In the sun
The rising sun.

I look up from my old oak-branch
To the swifts that rule the sky
The sunbeams warm me like your smile
And I want to spread my arms to fly

But my silent eyes look
To the dew-covered grass
So the birdsong, in the rising sun
Can find me peace at last
In the sun
The rising sun.

We'll never sit on branches
That are swaying in the breeze
Never huddle up like young birds
And listen to the trees

So my silent eyes look
Past the glittering mere
And your face, in my mind's eye
Can show me why I'm here
In the sun
The rising sun.
« Last Edit: July 07, 2009, 09:49:52 PM by Jubal »
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Son of the King

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« Reply #20 on: July 07, 2009, 10:32:52 PM »
Quote
The guilt is breathing
Taking your breath for its own
Feeding on your memories
The last gasps of your dying love.

That is so true its amazing. All of that poem is tbh.

Gen_Glory

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« Reply #21 on: July 08, 2009, 07:59:13 PM »
hmm does poetry have to be depressing to be a masterpiece?
Tis but a scratch...


Jubal

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« Reply #22 on: July 08, 2009, 08:54:13 PM »
Hell no, I tend to wirte depressing crap but nonsense poetry can be just as masterful if not more so.

Jabberwocky, the Jumblies, and other such poems are awesome.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #23 on: July 12, 2009, 01:26:44 PM »
Fighting on

So why? Why? Why? Why?

I'm feeling pretty down today,
The world got up and span away,
It left me shivering in space
The sunlight cold upon my face
And nothing but nothing beneath my feet.
So why am I here? Why?
To fight, to fight the long defeat.

I looked out over the egret's lake
Ran to the water to find it was fake
The trees were plastic,  the bushes too
The flowers were dead, devoid of dew
The people were all happy and upbeat
So why was I here? Why?
To fight, to fight the long defeat.

The last time I ever saw your eyes
I knew that something had to die
I couldn't chain down my flying soul
I couldn't drag you from your social role
And so we couldn't ever really meet
So why did I try? Why?
To fight, to fight the long defeat.

If your aims can't be met
If your life's another gamble
That's a sure loser's bet
In a sliding downhill scramble
Then all you can ever do
Is fight on until you lose
And fight for every yard
Til they come down so hard
That you get beat.
And finish up the long defeat.

No-one's got a song to sing
No-one thinks the kindly King
Will ever find his shining seat
So why does he try? Why?
To fight, to fight the long defeat.

The soldier in the wartime zone
His weapon is a mobile phone
Every person's happy now
Everyone soul is dead or cowed
And I went with the fleet
To sail the seas
To roam the breeze
And fight the last defeat.

Fight the last
The lost and damned
Fight the foe
I'm never gonna beat

And fight
And fight
And fight
And fight
And fight the long defeat.
« Last Edit: July 12, 2009, 01:28:28 PM by Jubal »
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #24 on: August 01, 2009, 12:32:07 PM »
Winter's Child
A child looked out
On wars of frost
And pillared towers
Of icy cold.

To see a small face
Staring back
From sparkling jails
With bars of gold.

He stepped outside
And took his knife
But all was chill
And all was bare
And in that waste
He lost his life
Searching for that
Face so fair.

And will this world
E'er wet and thaw
And free the young
To walk fearless and bold?

And will that child
Ever see my eyes
Staring back
From sparkling jails
With bars of gold?
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #25 on: August 02, 2009, 03:16:17 PM »
Okay, some spoof songs of mine.

The first is to the tune of "Will ye no come back again?"

Will ye no use MSN?
Bonnie geeks are noo awa'
Safely powerin up the mains,
Will ye link up with them all
Will ye use your MSN?

Will ye no use MSN?
Will ye no use MSN?
Send your pics and files tae me
Nice and quick on MSN.

Ye trusted in yer nerdy men
They trusted ye to Facebook them
They know of course when ye're online
They can check your MSN.

Will ye no use MSN?
Will ye no use MSN?
Change yer status or PP,
Be yourself on MSN.

We watched thee in thy busy hour
On Mercury we saw ye stay
Offline, through a software bug
That says "invisible" clear as day

Will ye no use MSN?
Will ye no use MSN?
Even if it's not as good as Mercury,
We still all have MSN.

Will ye no use MSN?
Will ye no use MSN?
We will bug you constantly
'Til you use your MSN.

To the tune of Grease is the word...

A PC for Nerds
I troubleshoot problems
And I check the light
We gotta plug & play
Feed the leads in alright.
There is a chance that this PC could go far
If we re-wire it now
And see what the issues are

We're PC nerds.

A PC for nerds,
It's got Access and Word,
A VDU that needs cleaning.
Resetting the time, setting programs in motion
It can affect how we're feeling.

They think that Excel's just a growing pain
Why don't they understand that it's a crying shame.
Clippit is lying, only docx is real,
We'll just press Start right now
And we can run what we feel,

We're PC nerds.

A PC for nerds,
It's got Access and Word,
A VDU that needs cleaning.
Resetting the time, setting programs in motion
It can affect how we're feeling.

Is this bug an illusion?
The help doesn't work
And I'm filled with confusion
What's this button here?

A PC for nerds (it's for nerds) (just for nerds) (just for nerds)....
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #26 on: August 09, 2009, 06:05:09 PM »
J'attend l'amour

Which face is yours,
That I am searching for?
Which hair flows over fair shoulders
Which eyes look back to my nervous glances?

J'attend l'amour, my faithful friend,
J'attend la femme,
My friend, a love.
J'attend, j'attend, j'attend
J'attend l'amour.

Why do I walk through swaying reeds,
And watch the birds
And see the clouds
And never go to the world of men?

To gaze away to a world alive,
With the wind in my hair,
And you at my side,
But who am I speaking to?

J'attend l'amour, my faithful friend,
J'attend la femme,
My friend, a love.
J'attend, j'attend, j'attend
J'attend m'amour.

The concrete and flashing lights
The blocked and trapped life
Of a world I can never enter
Whoever lives there.

So will you come to the blackberry fields with me
And sweep away your past life with the will to be free?
Can we both look out over fields of gold,
From the boughs of a tree, so stately and old,
And with your head on my shoulder
We'll watch the living world go by

As the ants-nest young people
In concrete cities
Grow older
And die.

J'attend l'amour, my faithful friend,
J'attend la femme,
My friend, a love.
J'attend, j'attend, j'attend
J'attend m'amour.

And in the end
Is forever for eternity?
The life of immortality
Is the wish to be part of the world.

Ozymandias has looked over the fall of New York,
And the Pyramids have outlasted the Towers of Trade
And if man is to kill off his own living land
He shall murder himself with his own drunken hand.

And still I walk through swaying reeds,
But back over the road to my old home and creed,
And stepping up to an old wooden door,
And I still wait; J'attend l'amour.

J'attend l'amour, my faithful friend,
Et j'attend toi,
My friend, my love.
J'attend, j'attend, j'attend
J'attend toi
Toi, m'amour.
« Last Edit: August 09, 2009, 06:18:29 PM by Jubal »
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

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« Reply #27 on: August 11, 2009, 02:30:13 PM »
Sides of the Wall

What have I got to lose?
Everything.
What've I got to gain?
Everything.
As I see your smile
And I feel my pain
Is it worth the trial
Is it worth the gain?
You're on the other side of the wall...

So everything's on both sides of the wall
Everything's on both sides of the wall
Everything's on both sides of the wall.

What am I searching for?
Everything.
What have I got to look in?
Everything.
The mountain spires of high Bhutan
The streets of New Orleans
The garden of old Babylon
The English pastures green
And all cut up by endless walls...

So can we travel over the wall?
Everything's on both sides of the wall
Everything's on both sides of the wall.

What can people show us?
Everything.
What have people got to find out?
Everything.
The Jew who scribed a holy scroll,
The galley slaves on quinquiremes,
The man who killed and killed his soul,
The man who stood and had a dream
Staring through invisible walls...

So can we break down this wall?
Everything's on both sides of the wall
Everything's on both sides of the wall.

Can we do it?
Can we do it?
Can we break down this wall?
Everything's on both sides of the wall
Everything's on both sides of the wall.
Everything's on both sides of the wall
Everything's on both sides of the wall.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Andalus

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« Reply #28 on: August 12, 2009, 02:21:39 PM »
Many excellent poems here, Jubal. I'm more in favour of poetry that rhymes, normally, but I like these as well. :)
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Jubal

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« Reply #29 on: August 12, 2009, 02:44:19 PM »
I sometimes write rhyming stuff, but often I just write blank verse as it comes into my head.
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