A Reading of Besotted Ballads Volume One

Even More Poetry of youth, 1955-1959, age 14-18.

At the end of my Senior Year of High School, I fell into deep infatuation for the young lady in the picture with me. Her parents were immigrants from the old Soviet Union and her name was Sonja.  Since she had a lot of interest in music, i tried to impress her by writing a musical play a la Broadway, which I called Ya-Ha-Whoey!

Besotted Ballads Volume One contains the lyrics to the songs from that play.

Although most of these songs were written in 1959, some were written earlier than that such as "My Little White Lamb", "Ya-Ha-Whoey" and "It's Christmas Only Next Week".

The lyrics of the song "Ya-Ha-Whoey" were writen by Stuart Meisel and myself.

These were written in Downingtown and Bucktown, Pa.

My dedication was to the Jeannette S. (Who was another girlfriend of mine.)

If you watch the video, I suggest you scroll down to the bottom of my blog and turn off the music player.

Also, on the video trame, bottom right are a square of four corners. Click this to make it full screen for easier viewing.

“Yum Ye Ye Yum” and “Lonely Boy”

Were publicly performed as part of the production

Frantic Frank on Musick

Directed by Doris Hunter

Owen J. Roberts High School,

Bucktown, Pa. in May 1959 and at

Bethel Methodist Church,

Spring City, Pa. in June 1959

Copyright 1959, 2012

LEM Productions,

Bucktown, Pa.

“My Little White Lamb”

Published by Crown Publishing Co., New York, NY

Recorded by Ben Tate on Ronnie Records in 1961.

Copyright 1957, 2012

Larry E. Meredith,

Bucktown, Pa.

The remaining poems in this volume are the lyrics from the play

Ya-Ha-Whoey!,

Written by Larry Eugene Meredith.

All lyrics are by Larry Eugene Meredith

except “Ya-Ha-Whoey”, written by

Larry Eugene Meredith and Stuart R. G. Meisel.

Original Musical Score by Robert Condon.

Copyright 1956, 1957, 1959, 2004, 2012

Larry E. Meredith & Stuart R. Meisel

Bucktown & Valley Forge, Pa.

 

The model on both covers is my wife.

A Reading of From A Further Room...

More Poetry of youth, 1958-1959, age 17-18.

Some of these poems are from a Poetry reading I did in 1959. Most of the verses here were published over the decades after I graduated high school.

These were written in Bucktown, Pa.

My dedication was to the Ladies of My Youth.

If you watch the video, I suggest you scroll down to the bottom of my blog and turn off the music player.

Also, on the video trame, bottom right are a square of four corners. Click this to make it full screen for easier viewing.

“Spider and the Fly”, “School is a Pain in the Neck”, “A Lesson is a Mess, Son”, “Molly’s Girdle”, “A Regret”, “Rainy Days”, “When I was Alone”, “This Year 1959”

From “Twenty-Six Poems: A Reading”

February 1959

Sponcered by Agnes C. Manser

Owen J. Roberts High School

Copyright 1958, 1959

Bucktown, Pa.

Copyright by Larry Eugene Meredith 2012

“Gatherings”, and “Optimyth”

Publicly read at the “17^tth Annual Poetry Reading Against Nuclear Holocaust”

Displayed at the Ward Public Library

Ward, Colorado

July 1998

Published in the Anthology

A Poem to Save the World: Readings Against Nuclear War

1998

“Old Man’s Lament”

Second Saturday

Jo Allen, editor

Wilmington, Delaware

2005

“Leader’s Sonnet”, “Lonely Months”, “Lost in Love”, Out Upon the Bay”, and “Laughter and Loneliness”

Poetry Vortex

Dallas Kirk Gantt, editor

Wilmington, Delaware

2007

“Laughter and Lonliness”

One Stop Poetry

Pete Marshall, editor

February 2011

“Lost in Love”

Potluck Poetry

Jingle Poetry

Shashi, editor

August 2011

“A Group of Noisy People”

Voices & Friends

A Little Something

Nancy Rosback, editor

December 2011

“Waitin’ for Graduation”

Was written for the Class of ’59 Graduation Committee

Owen J. Roberts High School April 1959

Bucktown, Pa.

Copyright by Larry Eugene Meredith 2009

A Reading of Early in the Mourning

I had begun dabbling around with poetry in grade school. Most of my earliest scribbles long ago disappeared.

At age 12 I began to take writing a bit more seriously and started to collect and preserve what I wrote.

So this volume, Early in the Mourning, is my earliest childhood poetry still in existence. I have long ago committed it to print, then entered it into the digital world of the computer. Now I decided to read it as a video and so here below is my reading of Early in the Morning. The poems and parodies within were all written between early 1954 and early 1958, from an age 0f 12 to 16. Almost all these efforts were performed and/or published many years ago, although one written in 1956 was not published until 1998.

I suggest you stroll to the bottom of my Blog and turn off the music player before listening to the video.

by Larry Eugene Meredith

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“Rich Man$ $ixteen Ton$”, “Willie Ameere’s Drive”, “I Beg-g-g of You-u-u”, “Hot Rod Richard”, “A Teenage Girl At a Big Star Record Hop Dance in 1957”, “Frankenstein”, “Stranger”, “But Instead of Jazz…”, “On Main Street”, “Pennsylvania”, “Paul Anka, “Walking, Talking Sack Dress”, “Random Ideas Concerning certain Pages in My Grammar”, “Please!”, “A Cup of Tea”, “Hot Rod” and “Goodbye Tango”

From “Twenty-Six Poems: A Reading”

February 1959

Sponcered by Agnes C. Manser

Owen J. Roberts High School

Copyright 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958

Bucktown, Pa.

Copyright by Larry Eugene Meredith 2012

“I’m Gonna Drink that Blood Right Outta Her Neck”, “Older Than Egypt”, “A Wonderful Wolf” and “Some Enchanted Graveyard”

From “South Cemetary”

April 1958

NORCO High School

Copyright 1957, 1958

Bucktown, Pa.

Copyright by Larry Eugene Meredith 2012

“Cycle”

Publicly read at the “17^tth Annual Poetry Reading Against Nuclear Holocaust”

Displayed at the Ward Public Library

Ward, Colorado

July 1998

Published in the Anthology

A Poem to Save the World: Readings Against Nuclear War

1998

Copyright by Larry Eugene Meredith 1957, 1998, 2012

DAYS OF DESPONDENCY: Poetry by Larry Eugene Meredith

POETRY WRITTEN  1969-1976

Ode to My Grandmother Upon her 75th Birthday

She taught me reading of words upon her knee

At four twenty and four Washington Ave,

In the kitchen she made crust pies for me

I’ve never had better than those I’d have.

You know, in eighteen hundred ninety nine

This country was a dissimilar place,

Lacking conveniences from in our time!

Automobile excursion, not outer space.

States were not all states; borders not yet strung.

Through History she stayed forever young.

When somebody has been there all your life

They can be simply taken for granted.

Through the moments of joy, hard times and strife,

She was there with love given openhanded.

It’s art to be a grandmother; science too.

Some are artisans. Mine was a master.

How can you show what someone means to you?

Carve their statute in white alabaster?

I count it a blessing I’m her grandson.

I’ll survey her and stay forever young.

Eleventh, June, nineteen seventy four,

Happy Birthday, mam-mam, at seventy-five.

You gave the future to me, and much more,

You made the past glow vivid and alive.

Today ev’rybody sings you a song.

I want you to know in my heart will sing

Ev’ry visit where you took me along,

Each story told, ev’ry toy you would bring,

And this paean will forever be sung.

For being so hip and forever young!
















Written for my maternal; grandmother on her 75th birthday.


The photos are of her in her youth and on her last birthday celebrating with her great grand children.


Esther 1899-1978

SPRINGS

March Daze

Smoke lazily strays

In turns and dances.

It drifts

Throughout March daze. Seasons stubbornly stay.

Neither the snow nor the sun will lift.

Smoke lazily strays

To the west.

Warm rays cook the clouds.

The red glow sifts throughout the March daze.

Wind huffs spring our way

And bleak winter stirs to shift.

Smoke lazily strays,

Like high water ‘cross bays.

Pregnant trees adorn the cliffs

Throughout the March daze.

Progeny of May’s

Is conceived by airy whiffs

As smoke lazily strays throughout the March daze.

Companions

At the side of March

Steps April, dressed in green.

Collar stiff with starch.

Secret Girl

Shallow gal, deep-down girl,

M.A.D. eyes so tricky light.

Doors shut, windows up,

Secret day, open night.

Secret girl with morning

Frown; twilight laugh. Cute. Chic.

Be with me a secret;

Be indiscreet.

Secret girl whispering,

Philadelphia Street.

Dance, prance the barroom floor.

Yell and shout when we’re fleet.

Secret girl, deep-down girl,

Mystique. What other name?

Who are you? Blue? Purple?

Or are you both the same?

Stay cloaked; hid away.

Come out into my world.

Hide and seek. Be insane,

Sane girl, M.A.D. girl.

SIimple Song

A simple song

Of lyric true

To simply say

I love you.

No messages

Or mystery of

The way I feel.

You I love.

It is not art

That I strive for.

It’s your heart.

A simple song

Of melody

That captures the

Simple me.

Come sing with me

My simple song

That begs you to

Sing along.

It’s no hall

I wish to fill.

It’s my soul.

Two Josephs

Joseph came and took Him in hand.

Carefully he laid Jesus down.

Breath held, the earth gathered around

In worship. Silence held the land.

Side by side stood the low and grand

To touch the hem of the baby’s gown.

Joseph came and took Him in hand.

Carefully he laid Jesus down.

Stepping from his place he came to stand,

Risking his position and renown,

Under the cross. He reached a hand

To take the body of the Son of Man.

Joseph came and took Him in hand.

Carefully he laid Jesus down.

Walk by the White Watergate: [Same-old-same-old lessons from history] Part I

You could not see a plane, because

No plane was fueled to fly.

No cars were driving on the road,

There was no gas to buy.

The Walrus and the Carpenter,

The latter head of state;

They wept like anything to see,

The fruits of Watergate.

“I’ll not wallow in this mess,”

Said one. “Don’t,” said his mate.

“If senators with seven tapes

Searched for all the year,

Do you suppose,” asked Carpenter,

“That we could get off clear?”

“I doubt it, boss,” said the Walrus,

And shed a bitter tear.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile ahead

When inspiration came. “Sir,

There’s something you should know,”

The Walrus said, “I wish to stay,

But I think that I should go.”

The Carpenter was all alone

As the ocean roared,

And the timid, tiny oysters

Formed an inquiry board.

So he called a lobster to his side,

‘Twas the best he could afford.

O woeful, weeping Carpenter, your

Tears are all a sham.

Why don’t you do like Walrus did

And take it on the lam?

Too late to shut the Watergate

Or the bursting dam.

“The time has come,” said Carpenter,

“To talk of many things.

Of China and of income tax,

Of prisoners and kings,

And what detante is or is not,

And does Kissinger have wings?”

“But wait a bit,” the oysters cried,

“Before going on with that.

We think that’s just a cover-up,

Like your paper hat,

And if you don’t come clean,

We’re going to toss you out.”

“Toss me out,” said the Carpenter.

“Don’t you realize

The tales you’ve been told

Are only lobster lies

And exaggerations made up

By newspaper spies?

“First they kicked my dog about

And then my Walrus friend.

It’s a left wing conspiracy

To bring me to an end,

And if you don’t cease right now,

I shan’t speak to you again.”

Walk by the White Watergate: [Same-old-same-old lessons from history] Part II

Just when the water seems safe

Here came a strange new twosome.

Dancing in perfect harmony

Was Hilly-dee and Billy-dum.

They pranced about with deeds undone

And left behind words designed to numb.

“The time has come,” said Dee and Dum,

“To talk of many things.

Of China and of income tax,

Of councils and kings,

And what intercourse is or is not,

And does Monica have wings?”

“Starrs come out,” said Dum and Dee.

“But don’t you realize

The tales you’ve been told

Are only lobster lies

And exaggerations made up

By newspaper spies?

“We read your case, long gone Carpenter,

And we mean you no malice,

But it’s a right-wing conspiracy

That surrounds this palace.”

                          “Don’t tell the talking heads,

                          But I’ve been dating Alice.”

                                           “What’s that you say,” asked Hilly-dee

                                           “Would you risk us being jailed?”

                        “Now, never fret my faithful pet,

                        You know I’ve never failed.

                         I’ve blown smoke about adultery,

                        But I ne’er inhaled.”

Illustration: Novelty items of the Clintons

This poems was written 23 years after Part I and 22 years after this collection was originally put together, but this seemed the proper place to include it.

SUMMERS

Notice From a Member of the In-Crowd

If people

passing

Are

Peeking

 in,

They will find me

Peeking

out at

them.

Kisses

Kisses are the blossoms

Fallen to the river

Touching with calm softness

Yet strong as the tide can make them

Rippling in the currents

Of the rushing river

They are mine forever

Taken from their giver

Smooth to worldly roughness

Placid on the stormy lake then

Floating like a flower

On a rushing river

Kisses are the breezes

Blowing on the river

Brimming with refreshness

Touching early evening darkness

Given unto blossom

These blooms of the giver

Kisses are the blossoms

Fallen from the giver

Pressing gentle softness

On the lips pursing to take them

Burning on the surface

Of my rushing river

Behind the Rain

Behind tonight’s rain a

Coldness drops upon me.

The highway lights glisten;

Traffic’s wet symphony.

It reminds me of that one,

When the days were good.

One had unruly tresses,

When the days were good.

It reminds me of this one,

When the days were good.

It reminds me of one’s passion,

When the days were good,

When nights were caresses,

When the days were good.

Behind tonight’s moon,

Stars’ dark side to me.

Some corner hooker

Will pretend sympathy.

Behind tomorrow’s sun,

Roads ahead of me.

Highway surfaces flood,

With traffic like a sea.

Reminds me of another one

Once a summer long,

That one’s coolly flashing eyes,

Once a summer long.

Once a summer long

When the days were good.

Rhyme Royal to Jazz

Alone at evening dusk, myself and jazz,

Our chords both soft and sad. Alone we test

The scale for new expression. Our impasse?

Imagination fails. Our notes but jest.

The mind of man is not up to the test.

      How terrible are these limits of mind

      That at the end of thought our actions bind.

Joe

who went reluctant

protesting his draft

but fought well

was officially heroic

more times than once

became a leader

served honorably

winning

bronze star

three oak leaf clusters

battalion presidential citation

five air metals

vietnam national metals

purple heart

loves family

loves america

loves god

came back alive not loving unreason

To Lois

Old hills glow in soft eve light on leaf shine,

Where we step as we find our way to love.

The wind song in the trees sounded above

Our heads when we came close, when you were mine.

Sunlit spring noon ablaze that youthful time.

Middays each spent in walks with hand in tow,

Lingering morning dews gave grass a glow,

Then you up rose to touch this soul of mine.

The hour has come to see us home again,

Dark clouds are black and wet across the wood.

Let us go run between the time it could

And time it would pool its moisture and rain.

At length we laugh to see raindrops go by

Not hitting us, me and you, you and I.