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Rhymes- Comical and Serious All Welcome

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Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#1 - Posted: 8 Mar 2009 18:27
It seems to be the general 'thing' at the moment on here limericks, short stories, and the like written by thefreepokerrooms most lovable characters. So I thought I'd give it a go whilst trying to remain in a stable state of mind.

Here's an old one i wrote when I was a wee lad.

To look at you is like those button clouds that drift across the sky
when the sun is high and careless whispers fill the shining light
The carefree days are history and winter dawns eternally
And all i have to keep me warm are memories of those eyes..

The songs of summer fill my mind like moths around a fire
And like the breeze that whisps through you they fuel my one desire
My mind is full of happy thought but I try to ignore.
The winter sadsong calling me. Your perfume makes me smile.

The lambs were born nine months ago and a low sun steals the heat
The tourist shops are boarded up and ice creams left to freeze
The geese fly V and head down south where they embrace the weather
Iv found a place deep in your heart where I can stay forever.

But summers gone now, i hear them say, the best seasons departed,
The big, thick coats are on patrol leaving bikinis broken hearted.
The grass was green and full of dew now its white and icy too.
The smiles turn into hollow frowns now winter has started.

That summer is not a season now but little pictures in my mind.
And everytime I think of it, It reminds me of our happy times
Winter may be here in spirit but my mind remembers our love before it
Because of you and me, so that summer will last for me eternally


Just clarify it was a while ago and it was a very naive look at love!
Author Bento
Forums Member
#2 - Posted: 8 Mar 2009 18:37
Thanks, Joey.

It's not easy to put your poetry out there for people. The trite stuff is easy, but the heartfelt not so.

I came across one of mine last week from about 1990..will type it in when I can find it on my desk.
Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#3 - Posted: 8 Mar 2009 18:45
I look forward to it m8 and to anyone else who needs to shed some love, post your funny, emotional, heartfelt poems and rhymes here and you will be surrounded by non-judgemental individuals who really appreciate soppy stuff like that
Author FatalClub
Forums Member
#4 - Posted: 8 Mar 2009 18:51
i will share with you the best poem i ever read

A limerick's cleverly versed
The second line rhymes with the first
The third is quite short
The fourth's the same sort
And the fifth line is often the worst!

i think we can all learn a lot from that poem
Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#5 - Posted: 8 Mar 2009 18:54
A completely un-gay man hug to you fatal, that poem touched me in a way tht can only be described as sexually unhealthy. Thanks for sharing, friend.
Author tincat
Forums Member
#6 - Posted: 8 Mar 2009 19:04
The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dreams,
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
mine or your own, without moving to hide it
or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own.
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy
fill you to the tips of your fingers
and toes without cautioning us
to be careful, be realistic,
remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day,
and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,"Yes."

It doesn't interest me to know where you live,
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what
or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company
you keepin the empty moments.


This my fave poem - not even sure where it came from. For me it captures all that is fantastic and devastating about love and life.

When my man says he loves me - I know.

cat x
Author ynot12
Forums Member
#7 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 06:50
oh such a thing is love
it makes a man a fool
it takes away his appetite
and wears away his tool.
Author 1superken
Forums Member
#8 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 06:53
Thats very good Tincat i liked that a lot :)
Author hovis
Forums Member
#9 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 07:04
Joey and cat ty both. I love the way you open up and isn't great to see the forum attracting good posts instead of the b****ing that was becoming the norm.
Author Bento
Forums Member
#10 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 08:24
For hovis

Joey and cat
love the way

you open up
great to see

attracting, b****ing
becoming the norm
Author hovis
Forums Member
#11 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 08:43
ty both. I and isn't the forum good posts instead of the that was? Is that it Bento? the remainder of the whole. Or am I as thick as I dont make out to be. By the way, I love the pic in members pic thread, you will do for me lmao. Wait till vette sees it, she will emigrate to Scotia.
Author Bento
Forums Member
#12 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 09:14
Is there such thing as error in poetry??

the little re-work for hovis was meant to end:

attracting
not b******

becoming the norm

and hov, re pics: where is yours? and don't give us a loaf m8...u should c vette..she's glamorous...
Author hovis
Forums Member
#13 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 10:27
Bento you are to clever for me m8 and my pic is for all to see on msn. As for vette, it is better to believe than see. Only one who i never seen in over a year was Shan, She showed me her pic and I was so dissapointed. Instead of the homely girl with fair hair, appeared this Irish vixen. Sos shan I couldn't resist, forgive your dad :(.
Author TheEgg
Forums Member
#14 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 11:38 - Edited by: TheEgg
Here is a snippet from a lullaby I wrote for my baby daughter. She still sings it to this day:
Here in the graveyard
Evryone's gone to sleep but me
Noone put pennies on my eyes
Nobody loves you when you die.
I was a good boy
never a murmur, ate all my greens
Didn't have TV on too loud
Didn't do things I wasn't allowed.

CH
I feel pretty cramped in this suitcase
The flowers above tickle my nose.
It's not true that I was a fruitcake
I was just friendly, everyone knows.


Mum didn't love me
Right from the first she wanted a girl
Someone to dress up put plaits in their hair
Someone to wash up when mum wasn't there





goes on and on in a similar vein
Author Bento
Forums Member
#15 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 12:39
..disturbing and lovely at once, Egg
Author hovis
Forums Member
#16 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 12:56 - Edited by: hovis
I agree with the Bento, was it guilt trip Egg? Seriously! or a reminder for all that life ain't easy and you have to adapt? Sorry m8 just curious, but its prophetic whitch ever side of the fence you grew up on. Do me a favour and print it all, it maybe clear the cobwebs of curiosity.
Author Bento
Forums Member
#17 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 12:59
So, here are those lyrics from a song written in 1992 for a radio contest...

Sky Tonight

Water lies stagnant in tidal pool
Senses stirring like hands before duel
Sand near, sand far
clock cycles, as we are
Paddling calm
here in the indigo light
Coming from the sky
Coming from the sky tonight

Sheltered in weathered cliffs are birds on shore
Pink humans nestle safe behind cottage doors
Stare with, fixed eyes
to witness if a star dies
Flickering planets
but there's nothing too bright
Coming from the sky
Coming from the sky tonight

Could be they're laughing, could be they're kind
Encoded language, down to earth but beyond the mind
Indirection pulling, to the West
Never a current when you need a rest
No answer that's left
no theory seems right
Coming from the sky,
Coming from the sky tonight.
Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#18 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 14:45
A very intelligent poem i like that. I always feel drawn to the night, something very peaceful about it and have tried so many times to re-create the feelings i get when all is quiet and streetlights are lit but to no prevail. However, i came across a poem that ironically has been with me all my life in a book given to me when I was christened. I never knew it was there until a few years back but really opitomizes what I hear, see and feel when the sun falls. Its called, "Its The Middle Of The Night."

A long time after bedtime
when it's very very late
when even dogs dream
and theres a deep sleep
breathing through the house

when doors are locked
and the curtains drawn
and the shops are dark
and the last trains gone
and theres no more traffic
in the street
because everyones asleep

then

the window-cleaner comes
to the high-street shop fronts
and shines at the glass
in the street-lit dark

and a dust-cart rumbles past
on its way to the dump
loaded with the last
of the old days rubbish

On the twentieth floor
of the office block
theres a lighted window
and high up there
another night cleaner's
vacuuming the floor
working nights on her own
while her children sleep at home.

And down in the dome
of the observatory
the astronomers who's
waited all day
for the dark
is watching the good old black sky
at last
for stars and moons
and spikes of light
through her telescope
in the middle of the night
while everybody sleeps

At the bakery
the bakers in their floury clothes
mix dough in machines
for tomorrows loaves of bread

and out by the gate
rows of parked vans wait
for their drivers to come
and take the newly-baked
bread to the shops
for the time when
the bread eaters wake


Across the town at the hospital
where the nurses watch in the
dim-lit wards
someone very old shuts their eyes
and dies
breathes their very last breath
on their very last night

Yet not far away on another floor
after months of waiting
a new babys born
and the mother and the father
hold the baby and smile
and the baby looks up
and the worlds just begun
but still everybody sleeps.

Now through the silent station
pass the empty shops
and the office blocks
past the sleeping streets
and the hospital
a train with no windows
goes rattling by

and inside the train the sorters sift
urgent letters and packets on the
late night shift
so tomorrows post will arrive
in time
at the towns and the villages
down the line.

And the mother
with the wakeful child in her arms
walking up and down
and up and down
and up and down
the room
hears the train as it passes by
and the cats by the bins
and the night owl's flight
and hums hushabye and hushabye
we should be asleep now
you and I
its late and time to close your eyes

it's the middle of the night



by Kathy Henderson
Although I'd love to take credit!
Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#19 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 14:51
Just to add post any sort of poetry of song lyrics on here, there are no judgemental eyes present. I might even upload some of my darker lyrics to invite a bit of diversity!

Oh and must say sorry. To this day I always thought tincat was a bloke.
Author tincat
Forums Member
#20 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 17:14
lol thanks Joey
Author gudcards
Forums Member
#21 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 17:48
777 was a player from Texas
to Pokerstar he was often obnoxious
he got warned once or thrice
he promised to be nice
then they drove away in his Lexus

peace and love xx.
Author tincat
Forums Member
#22 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 17:49
ha ha ha
Author gudcards
Forums Member
#23 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 17:51 - Edited by: gudcards
peace and love xx.
Author 1superken
Forums Member
#24 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 18:15 - Edited by: 1superken
It is an ancient mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
"By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, greybeard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye -
The wedding-guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The wedding-guest sat on a stone:
He cannot chose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed mariner.

"The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.

The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon-"
The Wedding-guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast.
Yet he cannot choose but hear:
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

"And now the Storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken -
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross and Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moonshine."

"God save thee, ancient Mariner:
From the fiends, that plague thee thus! -
Why look'st thou so?" - "With my cross-bow
I shot the Albatross."

"The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Not any day for food or play
Came to the mariner's hollo!

And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
'Ah wretch!' said they, 'the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!'

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right', said they, 'such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.'

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung."

"There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslacked, with black lips baked,
We could not laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood:
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, 'A sail! a sail!'

With throats unslacked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.

See! See! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame.
The day was wellnigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres!

Are those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
'The game is done! I've won, I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
From the sails the dew did drip -
Till clomb above the eastern bar
The hornèd Moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly, -
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my cross-bow!"

"I fear thee, ancient mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown." -
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie:
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came, and made
My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they;
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,
And nowhere did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside -

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmèd water burnt alway
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The selfsame moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea."

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.

I moved, and could
Author tincat
Forums Member
#25 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 18:26
lol ken an i thought my poem was long

I read half of yours - will read the other half tomorrow

cat x
Author 1superken
Forums Member
#26 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 18:27 - Edited by: 1superken
not feel my limbs:
I was so light - almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessèd ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the Moon
The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan to work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools -
We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at a rope,
But he said nought to me."

"I fear thee ancient Mariner!"
"Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
'Twas not these souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned - they dropt their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound.
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the skylark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their rune,
And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion -
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.

Then, like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two voices in the air.

'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man?
By him who died on the cross,
Which his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross."

The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honeydew:
Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.' "

(first voice)

"'But tell me, tell me! Speak again,
Thy soft response renewing -
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?'

(second voice)

'Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast -

If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.'

(first voice)

'But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?'

(second voice)

'The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.'

I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high;
The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fized on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen -

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread.
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring -
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze -
On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The lighthouse top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray -
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck -
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart -
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third - I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood."

"This hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with mariners
That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve -
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,
'Why this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights to many and fair,
That signal made but now?'

'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said -
'And they answered not our cheer!
The planks look warped! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look -
(The Pilot made reply)
I am a-feared' - 'Push on, push on!'
Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips - the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'
The Hermit crossed his brow.
'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say -
What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns:
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God Himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company! -

To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell!
Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#27 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 19:03
From what iv read tht poem is really good Im havin a spot of bother with the language barrier, more at the beginning than the end. Did you write that ken? And if you did id love to know what was your inspiration?
Author JoeyNitro
Forums Member
#28 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 19:07
Is it a musical???
Author 1superken
Forums Member
#29 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 19:30
but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.
Author 1superken
Forums Member
#30 - Posted: 9 Mar 2009 19:34 - Edited by: 1superken
I wrote it in a previous life Joey when i used to be called Samuel Taylor Coleridge i named it The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner ...... God i ad class in those days :) :) :) :)
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