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I have been overwhelmed by the number of requests for new passwords
It is going to take a while as each one has to be dealt with and replied to individually but I am working on them and will get back to you as soon as I am able.
Brian.
Thank you for your patience, I am getting there.
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7th May 2010, 02:50 PM
#1
A Sailor Died Today
This is one, I think I have posted before.a year or so ago.
It is the same poem but the word Sailor is added instead of Soldier. It means the same in both context.
A Sailor Died Today.
He was getting old and paunchy
and his hair was falling fast
and he sat around the alehouse
telling stories about the past.
of a war that he had fought in
and the deeds that he had done
in his exploits with his buddies
heroes everyone
and tho`sometimes to his neighbours
his tales became a joke
all his buddies listened
for they knew whereof he spoke
But we`ll hear his tales no longer
an old Sailor has passed away
and the worlds a little poorer
for a sailor died today.
He wont be mourned by many
just his children and his wife
for he lived a very ordinary
very quiet sort of life
He held a job and raised a family
quietly going on his way
and the world won`t note his passing
tho` a Sailor died today
When politicians leave this earth
their bodies lie in state
while thousands note their passing
and proclaim that they were great
Papers tell of their life stories
from the time when they were young
but the passing of a Sailor
goes unnoticed and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
to the welfare of our land
some jerk who breaks his promise
and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary person
who in times of war and strife
goes off to serve their country
and offers up their life.
The politicians stipend
and the style in which he lives
are sometimes disproportionate
to the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Sailors
who offered up their all
is paid off with a medal
and perhaps a pension small
It`s so easy to forget them
for it is so long ago
that our Dads and uncles and brothers
went to battle, but we know.
It was not the politicians
with their compromise and ploys
who won for us our freedom
that our country now enjoys
Should you find yourself in danger
with your enemies at hand
would you really want some cop-out
with his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Sailor
who has sworn to defend
their home, their kin, and country
and would fight until the end
.
He was just a common Sailor
and his ranks are growing thin
but his presence should remind us
we may need his like again
For when countries are in conflict
then we find the Sailors part
is to clean up all the troubles
that the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honour
while he`s here to hear the praise
then at least let`s give him homage
at the ending of his days.
For when countries are in conflict
then we find the Sailors part
is to clean up all the troubles
that the politicians start
If we cannot do him honour
while he`s here to hear the praise
then at least let`s give him homage
at the ending of his days.
And here`s another one to bring back the memories.
Author unknown.
Ten thousand miles and a world away
an old Sailor on his death bed lay,
Alone and forgotten lying there
he softly whispered this dying prayer.
Oh take me back to my younger days
To the old Pier Head and the Landing Stage.
Where the Liver Birds with gaze serene
look down upon the bustling scene.
Where the double decker trams roll by
their trolleys swinging in the sky,
and homeward Dockers wearily tread
underneath the Overhead.
The busy ferry boats leave the Stage
rolling and bumping on the waves.
Fighting hard against the tide
all the way to the other side.
Dockers in long greasy coats
horses and carts on the luggage boats
Buckets and spades in grubby hands
heading for New Brighton sands
Banana boats and liners tall
moored together along the Wall.
Copra, cotton and sugar cane
barges loading up with grain
Wet Nellies and great mugs of tea
in the Cocoa rooms by the old Goree
Coolies parading down Scotland Road
dressed in Paddy`s Market clothes.
Gone is the Liverpool that I knew
Gone are all my old friends too
The trams, the horses and the floats
Gone are all the Cunard boats.
Oh take me back to the old Pier Head
to ride once more on the Overhead
To sign on at the Pool again
An old Sailors last trip down Memory Lane.
Last edited by Captain Kong; 7th May 2010 at 03:10 PM.
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7th May 2010, 09:08 PM
#2
Poems!
Hi Capt
Many thanks for those as well,always nice to read a good Poem regarding the lost Heroes!
Cheers
Senior Site Moderator-Member and Friend of this Website
R697530
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9th May 2010, 10:48 AM
#3
L'Pool
Smashing poetry King. Remember the overhead and had a few drinks in the pub outside the Gladstone gates. Was it called the Caradoc, with the Royal round the corner which was a bit posh as it had bells by the tables to call up for a drink. Ah well back to me bunk that's enough excitement for one day. Mike

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9th May 2010, 12:57 PM
#4
Hi Michael,
Yes it was the Caradoc near the Gladstone Doick.
Here is another Poem I do not know who wrote it, it has been in my computer for two or three years.
but it is for the lads who have been on the West Coast of Africa, and have been in Tombo Mary`s Bar on Apapa Side in Lagos, Nigeria. Mary was a Legend to the lads off the Elder Dempster and Palm Line ships.
!
--Tombo Mary's.
Apapa was the venue for our lads run ashore,
On the coast of Africa where tourists never tour,
The bar was Tombo Mary's where she ruled the roost all day,
Customers were seafarers - keen to spend their pay.
In this one-roomed shanty, with hard mud for a floor,
(Palm fronds on the thatched roof and canvas for a door),
Our black mama Mary - a wondrous female sight,
Would choose a handy sailor for her carnal joys at night.
Raised up on a dias just behind the bar,
(The centre of attention from here to Calabar),
Was a huge four poster bed with linen and fine lace,
Imported from some far off land and taking pride of place.
It`s where Mary held her lover-boy for a torrid night of fun.
Piccaninnies and the bar staff - at the setting of the sun -
Would sleep below this raft of love,with tassels hanging red,
While the sailor did his duty - in Tombo Mary's bed.
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10th May 2010, 04:54 PM
#5
I found this old poem in one of my Sea Breezes Mags, in August 1950 by Sydney Brand.
My old Ships.
When old ships I used to know come back from the sea
they are laden with a cargo, full of messages for me.
And they bring men I used to know, grown older by the years
to chat about the old days and lift a glass that cheers.
When old ships I used to know drop anchor by the shore
with a salty, smoky funnel and a pennant at the fore
Red rust on the bowplate and decks that smell of brine,
I know them as the old ships that will ever more be mine.
When old ships come back again they tell of an Empires`s fame
or a Consul`s office out abroad where I sometimes signed my name.
To work my passage, broke and bent, a heart like a lump of lead,
till "Queer Street" changed to "Promised Land" on sighting Beachy Head.
In old ships I used to know I`d lean on the rail at night
and follow the lay of the Southern Cross, from the Line to the Aussie Bight.
I`d count the days from Calleo, to the Horn and the Florida Keys
with the Great Bear as a pilot through the North Atlantic Seas.
The old ships I used to know from Penang to the Golden Gate
they wrap their arms around me and whisper a sailing date
and I`m out on the run to Rio, and back with a concience clear
on every course of the compass the `Old Man` chose to steer.
The old ships, they give me joy, but bring me something more,
they bring Cape Town and Freemantle right up to my front door.
When I sit by a cosy fireside and the wind howls through the trees,
there`s a call that veers to the harbour piers, the call of the open seas.
by Sydney Brand, in `Sea Breezes` August 1950
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31st July 2010, 10:00 AM
#6
Author
Hi This was written by Joe Earl - from his first book - THE MEN WHO MISSED THE TIDE _ thanks Joe
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1st August 2010, 03:25 PM
#7
Captain Joe Earl
Great to see Joe looking into the site and would have advised of the author had I noticed the post earlier, I am certain Joe may have been pleased to see the mention of the poem and now that the composer has been highlighted would suggest an ammendment to the post further acnowledging the writer.
Thanking personally Captain Kong for the extra information: Tombo Mary`s Bar on Apapa Side in Lagos, Nigeria. Mary was a Legend to the lads off the Elder Dempster and Palm Line ships.
I do post many of Joe's poems on site and all are presented to raise further awareness and always welcomed.
As with much permissions are sought prior to posting and Author Unknown credited until or hoping that the originator may come forward and all credited correctly, even if eventualy be given.
The Men Who Missed The Tide and I Am A Western Ocean Mariner both by Joe, would make worthy additions to any book collections. Although I cannot speak for Joe personally, will advise further if this would be a problem, but would imagine all is ok.
Regards,
Keith.
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1st June 2012, 12:11 AM
#8
A sailor died today:
A SAILOR DIED TODAY:
He was getting old and grizzly and his hair was falling fast,
And he’d often tell his grandchildren stories of the past,
Of the ships that he had sailed in and the deeds that he had done,
With adventures with his shipmates — sailors every one.
Though sometimes to his family his tales became a joke,
But the mariners that listened knew whereof he spoke.
We’ll hear his tales no longer, for Jack has passed away,
And the world’s a little poorer — for a sailor died today.
He was often rough and ready, and a tendency to swear,
And he wasn’t always fussy in the things he used to wear;
Perhaps he liked a drink too much but wasn’t one to worry,
Another thing he did enjoy was a red-hot Indian curry.
His memory sometimes failed him, but he could get along,
When singing a bit of shanty or some other ribald song;
We will hear his verse no longer for Jack has passed away,
But his friends will miss him, they’re in mourning from today.
He had seen the best in men by virtue of his trade,
And sometimes seen the worst, but called a spade a spade;
Tolerant he learned to be, because he understood,
People are just human — they are not made of wood.
You would find him in the pub — that was nothing new,
Born from years of socialising with a gallant crew;
All his life he toiled on ships — he never worked ashore,
And still an honest citizen he rarely broke the law.
Now he’s heard last orders and death has drained his glass,
His life was full and no regrets till evermore to pass;
So when it comes to crying — do not be very sad,
An old man passed away today — a sailor since a lad.
Captain J.S. Earl:
K.
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1st June 2012, 01:25 AM
#9
Tomba marys
Hi shipmates, I spent 5 years down the west coast with palm line and EDs but in Lagos always went to the Lido, after a game of darts in the Europeon club. Never heard of Tomba Marys even though I sailed with s.ome old hands who had been going down there for years. Up the creeks of Warri Burutu Sapele we went to the Europeon club in Sapele for a swim and a few beers and were always made very welcome, So I obviously missed out on Tomba Marys. Rgds Denis
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1st June 2012, 10:10 AM
#10
I should imagine that Tombo Mary has crossed the cala Bar now.
She was going in the early 50s when I was on the Tarkwa on Apapa side Lagos.
My younger brother was thrown out by her bouncers for trying to sing like a tortured turkey in 1962 when he was on a Palm boat.
Some women like Tombo Mary, are born to be legends, like Sadie Thompson, like Chloe, like Jersey Lil, like May Sullivan, like Mary Bassem, like Ma Gleason, like .........................
.
. Brian.
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