young at heart opera

(music and dance unnecessary)

I looked at the sky

It was an icy pale

And I wondered why

Here on the ground

Rose a fearsome gale.

And you were not around.

I looked at the sea

No one dared to sail,

And it made me tremble

Here on the shore,

We meet no more

Here and there I scramble

But when  you are near

Your love is all so clear.

The Long Trek

by Hasan Abdul

The air is warmer

Yet it's sometimes colder

The summers are hotter

Yet often they are wetter

Now I find, all is gone

The world I knew, it shone

And now the viruses arrive

Now the illnesses stay

Few are left alive

And the meek cry today

For a treasure so apparent

For a promised covenant

Can the mighty ever bet

That nature is yet

A cause at which to peck

Saving the Earth is no long trek.

copyright by Hasan Abdulla, 11/2009

The Riddler speaks:

Once upon a leafy lawn

Rose a misty dawn.

The church bells did not ring

The birds, the insects did not sing

Then came a hideous knock

The modern stazi came

And with a cold icy shock

I was never the same again.

And now I awake alone,

In a house far from home.

My work is inspired by the writings of Raymond Chandler.  I began my creative work with songwriting but could not match music to words. In the 1980's I gained an A Level in English, and then turned my attention to poetry and short stories.  Then I began to read the novels of Raymond Chandler and the short stories of Ellery Queen, and Alfred Hitchcock as well as others such as Hemingway.

I won a runner up  prize  for an essay on Peace in the early 1980's and launched  my writing work with the motivation gained by this prize.

More recently I got a favourable comment from a professional writer for a poem on the Virgin Mary and a four star rating for a short story entitled Danger Zone.  This helped me gain enormous confidence in writing.

Brief Encounters- Very Short Stories

                 Plymouth Harbour

Sean O'Connor stepped onto the landing at Plymouth Harbour one dark April evening.  He had arrived alone, a bachelor at 30 years of age, unemployed and seeking work.  He had found it almost impossible to find employment as a car mechanic in his hometown and hence came to Plymouth to try his luck.

Being concscious of the paramilitary violence in his hometown he had come here with a fervent wish that he would not be discriminated against for beinga Catholic and equally he did not want to be pushed into  politics.

Once he had got through immigration checks, he rushed out into the open air with an urge to shout for joy.  He stopped himself from actually doing so reflecting that it might not be easy to settle in the new place.  He shut his eyes and took in the cool sea breeze from the shore.  The cold salty air refreshed him and cheered him with a  new optimism.  Opening his eyes slowly, he took a seat on a public bench that faced the sea.

Within minutes a young lady greeted him in  a  language he did not understand or recognise.  She was well dressed but her voice and manner were mournful.  Sean nodded a greeting in return.  He waited and then said:  'I'm sorry I don't recognise your language young lady.'

She reached out her hand in an appeal for help.

'I can't give you money.  I am come to seek work here.'

The strange lady retreated from him bitterly.

'Are you in trouble madam?' he asked her in a stern voice.

She nodded in agreement.  She shivered and whispered a few words, all the while her lips trembling and her eyes becoming wet.

'What is the matter?' he asked her.  'Have you no one in your life?  Have you come here alone?'

Sean had raised his voice in anger but had tried to control his temper.  He could see she was upset.  While they were seated in silence the evening wore on.  The sun was setting on the horizon and the stars began to brilliantly shine.  A half moon beamed over a looming dark tiide of the shore.

Sean thought for a while and then asked her:  'Can I help you take a boat home?'

She turned to him questioningly and this annoyed Sean though he calmed  himself and added:  'Can I help you take a ferry home?'

She instantly brightened up and she now looked radiant and attractive.  He could see she understood at last a bit of what he was trying to say to her.  Standing up from the bench he offered her his arm.

''If you come with me I'll see what I can do.'

She followed him to the departure lounge at the Harbour.  It seemed empty.  A lone clerk sleepily shuffled some papers here and there.

This is to proudly welcome the poetry of Scarlet Monahan, who has generously sent her poems for inclusion on this website.

POETRY SECTOR

Poem 1

Suburbia

Here they come, like Nazi vehicles

Speeding like bullets, causing spectacles

ears go deaf, minds go numb

they crush us under their thumb

Racing here and there like bullets

with odious noises,  no one forgets

They have  no care for any life

they want your money and wife

Should you dare to be single

they will  not allow you to mingle

with people, with crowds, the world

People, have you ever heard

That speeding cars, they erupt

from gangsters, drug happy and bankrupt

These are the speeding cars of suburbia

free to indulge in a hideous fantasia

Poem 2

Mockingbird

A Love gone up in flames

a tramp everyone blames

Someone has lost his career

Another one is full of fear

Out comes the word

Here c omes the mockingbird

A crash on the motorway

No one comes to the rescue

Lives wasted and thrown away

And no one wants to be true

Out comes the word

Here comes the mockingbird

A fire burns a building

All those inside are burnt

The idle few are singing

and no one is feeling hurt

Have you all heard?

Here comes the mockingbird

A storm brews and billows

And no one cares or knows

Until all around is destruction

and people shout 'Armageddon'

Again out comes the word

The demon is the mockingbird

When God is never heard

And seen by us all

Can it really be absurd

That he will never hear our call?

A bird that does not exist

the heavens are but a  mist

In the minds of us all

and we blame the mockingbird.

Poem 3

- A Foreign Shore

I walked along a shore

on a coastline very foreign

the breeze was cool, whats more

The sands felt like a safe haven.

For here was a real serenity

from the rat race of modernity.

In a time gone past not ancient

A country prospers, still pleasant.

The palm trees along the sands

Were like any of foreign lands

Yet all around was a radiant glow

Of people busy, going to and fro

That foreign shore is changed

No longer sail the dhows on the coast

The land and people are enstranged

No one shares a toast

Yet for all we are proud of here

Life is shallow, no one has a care

Life is still worthy there.

Brief Encounters-Part 2

Sean approached him slowly. 'Excuse me sir.'

'Try again in the morning', the clerk repliied qiuckly.

Sean stopped to turn around and then he tried once more.  The departure lounge was poorly lit and the young lady was getting nervous.

'This young lady wants to travel home.'

'Oh.  I thought it was you who required help.'  the clerk brightened up in a way that annoyed Sean.

'Can she board the ferry now?' Sean asked  him, suppressing his anger.

'Yes. Yes. Has she got her passport?'

Sean turned inquisitively at her.  The clerk looked at her suspiciously but then said:

'Well, she will have to sort that out when she gets to her destination.'

'Thank you.  Here is the money for the ticket.'  Sean handed him the money and gave the ticket to the lady.

The clerk seemed dissapointed.  The young lady embraced Sean warmly and headed off for the ferry.

'Strange lady' said Sean looking in her direction.

'All women are strange', replied the clerk laughing.

The next morning, Sean woke up in a bed and breakfast hotel and watched the news on the TV in the fining area.  It was announced that a young lady had succeeded in going to the Lebanon and that she was on the wanted list of suspects by the MOD police.  She was believed to have sailed from Plymouth.

Long Time no see

by Scarlet Monahan

"Remember me" I said to me,

"Not really mate" was my reply

"I used to be a friend of yours"

I apused and then I closed one eye

A Friend of mine, well bother me

With one eye closed I start to see

That maybe when in times gone bye

I met me once but was too shy

The while now hid

by Scarlet Monahan

Silently the night will move

From twilight through to day

And costing nought but time of us

At morning we must pray

In darkness, things first seen in light

Put forth a change of form

Twisting in the shadows of

The mind, from whence we are torn

And those may take advantage

Of the blanket held above

Who question not, the mood of wood

More busy with their love

The rain may come and give a sound

Too lonely at the start

of hollow thought and memory

Found hiding in the heart

Quick closing eyes, protect us all

Behind the falling lid

Dark without, forgotten soon

Till wake, the while now bid.