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Poems by Larry Tilander
Page Nine
A Mother In War | Big Brother Speaks | Carla | Childhood Revisited, Briefly | Communications Barrier | Dear Pen Pal | False Woman | Flowers For Teach | Going Home | Happy Dance | Late Redemption | March Or Dance | Zeke, And The Porcupine Gold |
A Mother In War Now stay in bed old sleepyhead, the morning still is new.
Belligerent boys are making noise, they stumble through the dew.
Chasing the cat and falling flat down on the soggy ground.
It's nothing to the likes of you. Now don't you make a sound.
Just lay so still, the morning will find you all snug and well.
Don't worry 'bout the ones who shout and ring at our door bell.
Now I will go and say hello. Son, don't come down the stairs.
Must be old pals, some guys and gals who've come to borrow chairs.
Just stay quite still, these soldiers will be leaving before long.
If I make noise that's loud, annoys, I'll just be making song.
Fare well my boy. You've brought me joy. I may be gone a while.
While I am gone just carry on and think of me and smile.
Big Brother Speaks My children, yes of course you have free speech.
As long as you promote Big Brother's schemes.
Big Brother loves you, cherishes your dreams.
And wants to give an equal share to each.
You must have open minds, to every word.
The service blasts at you from your tv.
The talking heads still tell you that you're free.
So disregard that other stuff you heard.
The hate mail that you got was just a hoax.
From silly people, child, you shouldn't care.
Investigate? How silly. Don't go there.
It's just some foreign fellows playing jokes.
Your life is great, for I have told you so.
My children, that is all you need to know
Carla She came out of the bar to which I was about to go
She looked like something dead and dragged from Hell
She said, "I'll make you happy man, just help me get some blow.
I'm sure you'll like the goods I have to sell."
I said I wasn't buying and it's years too late for crack
To go a snuffy snortin' up my nose
She asked if I could give her bike a ride, 'twas just out back She'd finish off the evening on her toes
She jittered, jived, and trembled as we rode up to her place
Her need was showing in the way she shook
She said she had to make a call, come in and meet her dog
Well, what the Hell, so why not take a look
A sandy coloured husky I met, while she called her mom
A flat with hardly any furniture
She brushed her hair and changed her top while she was on the phone
Not caring I was sitting watching her
She told her mom she loved her, then she said to me, "Come on."
She teased the dog, "Look out. I'll get your tail."
A girl and her dog, a habit, phone calls home to mom
A bicycle, a body that's for sale
I couldn't criticise her, I could only wish her luck
She walked into the cheapest bar in town
They call them zombie hookers, do it all man, for a buck
They're just some mother's daughters when they're down
Somebody's niece, I have a niece, I have a sister too
I hope they never go and sink that low
But if you should encounter them, and if indeed they do
I'm hoping some respect is what you show
Childhood Revisited, Briefly This iron will has sought it's rusted roots.
To this deserted barn again I've come.
My body tired, my senses all are numb.
My feet are sore in these old hunting boots.
The fallen leaves look comforting below.
Now I recall the way we used to jump.
The jolt not hurting on the youthful rump.
But now there is no hay to land in though.
The ambulance sings siren song, arrives.
He might have saved his tires and his wail.
I smile as my grip begins to fail.
I have that rush now as my body dives.
The barn plank floor, my youth, jumps up to greet.
I go down swiftly, never in defeat.
Communications Barrier My poor old grampa's fallen down and gave his head a whack.
His neural wiring is fried and him flat on his back.
Until he heals his legs are toast so I came by to nurse.
I guess I've made a few mistakes and you should hear him curse.
The first faux pas it was a very simple one to make.
The bit of wood I brought to him when he asked for a stake.
He called out for an Afghan then, I brought the Mullah by.
Poor gramps he got so angry that I though that he would cry.
He asked then for his ham equipment. I brought knife and fork.
It turned out he meant radios, and not some bits of pork.
And now he's yelling yet again, I guess once more mis-heard.
This duck can't be the thing he wanted, calling for a bird.
I think poor gramps is really hurt and quite out of his head.
He says that he would like a can o' pee abover his bed.
Dear Pen Pal Dear Pen Pal I am writing you, was such a lovely day.
No worries friend, they gave out rice last night.
I've hidden some, will eat for days, and friend, now by the way,
I pray that you will soon resolve your plight.
This parking ticket thing sounds bad. I never owned a car,
But Uncle did, a taxi painted red.
He got a ticket one sad night, parked near a war lord's bar.
Next week they shot poor uncle, now he's dead.
If things are bad then you could flee. I'll help you if I can.
Though it means parting from your wife and child.
I could put up a house for you, I have some salvaged tin.
The evenings here are always very mild.
I finish my indenture soon, can get a real job.
Make money, maybe find my wife and son.
Must end this letter Dear Pen Pal, a noise outside the door.
I have to turn the light out, load my gun.
False Woman They danced and drank and laughed the whole night through.
The juice-de-grape made them think love was true.
Then later when they went back to her room.
He watched as she dis-robed there, in the gloom.
She didn't stop when she'd removed her clothes.
He watched as she reached just below her nose.
And pulled her teeth out, put them in a glass.
Then with her panties came most of her ass.
Her hair she brushed, then placed upon the stand.
Now where, oh horrid where would next her hand?
His question was soon answered as he looked.
Thye snap that held her bra was then unhooked.
Her boobs were fake, just like her golden locks.
Best part of her it seems came in a box.
Now silent, pasty faced he set to sneak
Away, and when he turned to take a peek.
He saw her put her hearing aids and glasses
Down beside her rubber boobs and asses.
So as he made the rest of his retreat.
He didn't bother quieting his feet.
As he went back toward the bar to mingle.
He found that he was singing I'll Stay Single.
Flowers For Teach You took this foolish hand and led me on
A journey through the whole of time and space
At times you stopped to wash my dirty face
And now those days have finally come and gone
Now I presume to walk out in this world
With dignity you lent me all I show
I'm scared, and I don't really want to go
I feel like a young bird, skyward hurled
A spray of posies as I graduate
Some rented clothes, and now we've gone our ways
But you're still with me through my everydays
I thought I'd better say, 'fore it's too late
The boutonnieres, corsages, shiny new
Were yours my teacher, smile, each bud's for you
Going Home Take me to the country that I love
I need no shelter, long for no defence
Just sit me smiling up against a fence
To watch the stars swirl endlessly above
Now hold my hand until I feel no more
At last let me inhale the country breeze
The cruel world has brought me to my knees
I'm tired now, and every bone is sore
Let doctor sky take gently my last signs
The creek bid babble in my frail ear
For sounds of humans cannot bring me cheer
Their whispers are all lies, not like the pines
My darling, darling children, do not cry
I gladly lived and gladly too I die
Happy Dance Here's a brand new thought for everyone. Hear what I say.
Incorporate a little dance into your every day.
A little happy dance when everything is going right.
Just because the coffee's good, or sun is really bright.
In your fuzzy slippers or your heels dance along.
The world is one big musical; each day another song.
Late Redemption He ran away from all he knew to sail the the oceans wide.
To make his fame and fortune for to woo a lady bride.
A pauper farmer's son was he, a merchant's lass was she.
He hoped someday that he'd return and they would married be.
Sailing, sailing.
Far from hearth and home.
Sailing, sailing.
The world he did roam.
He fell in with a pirate crew and learned to use the sword.
Forgot the ways of right and wrong, his face turned from the Lord.
His lust for gold shone bright and he forgot the merchant's lass.
His soul a base and tortured thing; his manner rude and crass.
Sailing, sailing.
On the oceans broad.
Sailing, sailing.
His course away from God.
They boarded ships, they looted towns; took pleasure with no give.
They ransomed rich and slaughtered poor, made death so they could live.
The treasure chest beneath his bed was full. He wanted more.
The evil seeping deep within and blackening his core.
Sailing, sailing.
Sinking deep in crime.
Sailing, sailing.
Bandits hailed through time.
There came word of a wealthy haul, a merchant's treasure ship.
To sail upon a certain morn', to it's port they did slip.
There he did spy a sight that chilled him through, from up the mast.
Yes, there upon that treasure ship; the lady from his past.
Sailing, sailing
Onward to their fate.
Sailing, sailing.
Redemption comes too late.
He slipped below; into the hold, he bolted tight the hatch.
He prayed as with a shaking hand he lit the gunners' match.
He thought of love and his life now now; the wasted years between.
His last thought of the lady as he blew the magazine.
Sailing, sailing.
Beyond the starry skies.
Sailing, sailing.
The pirate lives and dies.
The shattered pirate ship was taken, all the pirates' horde.
The crew were given unto God to face their just reward.
And there amidst the broken men in that unholy place.
She saw him laying in his shroud, and recognised his face.
Sailing, sailing.
Two ships together bound.
Sailing, sailing.
Her childhood love re-found.
A tongue of flame below the deck, unnoticed swelled and grew.
Then as she kissed his ravaged cheek it found it's mark anew.
The strength of thirty kegs of powder blowing at one time.
Carried both the ships and crews beneath the ocean's rime.
Sailing, sailing.
The peaceful skies above.
Sailing, sailing.
Forever lost in love.
March Or Dance This is your life, you only get one chance.
So do you march, or will you learn to dance?
There is no refund if you make mistakes.
Just worms to tell you, "Buddy, them's the breaks."
Friend, will you trudge or twirl from birth to rest,
A follower, or with a new step blessed?
The pattern you'd create could die with you.
At death's door, looking back it's loss you'd rue.
Now break your stride and learn to skip along.
Life isn't just a drum beat; it's a song.
'Til now you've never capered, pranced, or twirled?
There's time if you are yet within this world.
This is your life to get through, march or dance.
Your life, and you control it. What's your stance?
Zeke, And The Porcupine Gold Now Zeke, he is a mountain man, some say that he is weird.
He wears the skins of porcupines and has a giant beard.
I've heard he'd been a century up livin' in them hills.
Pannin' for a poke of gold and pullin' out them quills.
He says that he likes livin' on his own, just wild and free.
Admires the way the 'pines make love so slow and carefully.
He says that is the secret, that there ain't no magic potion.
You gotta live your life at ease, it's kinda like slow motion.
Well Zeke, he lived on yogurt from the milk of porcupines.
You find 'em by the millions livin' there in them old mines.
His meat, oh yeah, he ate them, yup, used quills for tooth picks too.
He swears that porcers are all that a man needs to make do.
Old Zeke went chasing p-pines on a humid summer's day.
And slow as them old critters are, they all got clean away.
So he, that mountain man of parts, because he was so brave.
Just followed them right up behind into their porcy cave.
He tripped, he slipped, he fell and dipped into a lake below.
He thought for sure that that would be the end of his life's show.
For lookin' 'round the lakeside cliff he spied no crack or seam.
His head lamp staring back at him with a dull golden gleam.
Hey wait there, "golden gleam" hot dang, the walls were made of gold.
Old Zeke he was electrified, just runnin' hot and cold.
He used his miners' hammer, filled his pockets with that junk.
Then when he went to swim away, of course he went and sunk.
It happened that the outflow from that lake was down below.
So Zeke was carried in it, caught up in the undertow.
And when that outflow emptied in the lake outside of town.
The hollow quills they bouyed him up, or else he would have drowned.
He p-pine paddled up to shore and cashed in that there poke.
He lives a life of luxury, he never will go broke.
For he still lives on porcer parts, and milk, and yogurt too.
And if you stop to see him he'll pull out a bit for you.
Visit Porcupine Smith
He inspired this.
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