Narrative Poetry
Lyric and Poetry Samples
The Roswell Incident
My father was a rancher
East of Socorro
southeast of Corona
near Roswell, New Mexico
In the middle of nowhere
no radio, no telephone
1947
I was 12 years old
Big lightning storm one night
beginning of July
we heard an explosion
wondered what, wondered why
Riding out the next morning
over the pasture to check on some sheep
that's when Daddy found it
the big field of weird debris
He brought some of it home then
laid it out on the kitchen floor
bits and pieces
of things we'd never seen before
Like foil but not foil
like wood but not wood
like wire, waxed paper
all weighing much less than it should
Everything was so strong
we couldn't cut it or scrape it
pliable, unnatural
we couldn't burn or break it
There were symbols in purple and pink
like a transparent recipe
ranged out in columns
but nothing we could read
A couple days later
Daddy drove into Corona
and there he heard the stories
what had been seen by others
Near Magdalena
on the Plains of San Agustin
a civil engineer
and an archeological research team
found a disc shaped object
surrounded by creatures
like human but not human
round heads, no hair, small features
A military officer
drove up and ordered everyone to leave
swore them to silence
their patriotic duty
A couple in Roswell
star gazing from their front porch
watched an object speeding
through the night of the big storm
Like two inverted saucers
glowing from the inside
headed straight for the lightning
right out to where we resided
They said
"We know what we saw.
No rocket, no weather balloon.
Why keep it a secret?
What could we learn?
What could we learn?
"Well, we don't know
but we do know two things.
We know what we saw
and we know that we are not alone."
So Daddy went into Roswell
where he talked with the sheriff
who called up the army
who came for my father
Took him out to our pasture
with trucks and soldiers
where they picked up the pieces
and carried them all away
Then they jailed my father
and they asked him questions
under guard in a small room
from head to foot tested him
He said
"You know what I saw.
I don't know why you're doing this to me
but I will keep it a secret
because you say it's my duty."
One week later
he came home on an airplane
said forget all about it
he never spoke of it again
But sometimes I asked him, ”Daddy?
Was it from another planet?
Was it something from the future?"
but I never got an answer.
Still, I know what I saw
I don't care what they told him
Why keep it a secret?
What could we learn?
What could we learn?
Well, I don't know
but I do know two things
I know what I saw
and I know that we are not alone
©1996 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved
Amico in Vasto
I freaked out in Verona
boarded the south bound train
my head was split with anger
and my heart was dulled with pain
Some fool had to leave a message
that my best friend ran away
the home I thought was anchored
floated off to yesterday
Lost and alone
so far from anything familiar
there was no one I could talk with
to relieve myself
Crazy with grief
the new moon cast everything in darkness
I tossed weightless in the strange air
like an autumn leaf
I arrived on the feast of San Martino
when the grapes turn into wine
it was summer in November
as the sun began to climb
The wind flew dry off the Adriatic
I was beckoned by the blue
I walked down to where the coastline changed
and that's where I met you
You ran to my side
as if you'd been waiting for my arrival
you leaned into my legs
as if you'd come back home
When I looked in your eyes
I could see that your love had found its mission
you were my guardian out of heaven
on a three day loan
Pastore Abruzzese
Amico, my Amico in Vasto
We stood in the waves and got sandy
I painted a picture of you
we climbed the palace steps together
and panted at the view
I bought you bones and cheeses
and I fed you at the fountains
I followed your gaze to the crescent moon
as it rose above the mountains
Steadfast and sure
you gave me the company I needed
and the unconditional love
that asks for nothing in return
I don't know where you came from
but I'm grateful that you found me
you saved a wandering soul
from drowning in the dark
Pastore Abruzzese
Amico, my Amico in Vasto
Where would you go when I left town
who would put food out for you
would you find some new soul you could shepherd
would they love you like I do
On the morning I was leaving
you appeared shampooed and shining
on a rope beside a young boy
who would love you like I do
Steadfast and sure
you gave me the company I needed
and the unconditional love
that asks for nothing in return
I don't know where you came from
but I'm grateful that you found me
you saved a wandering soul
from drowning in the dark
Pastore Abruzzese
Amico, my Amico in Vasto
©1996 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved
Afraid of the Dark
I saw him reflected in my windowpane
standing near the garden in the summer rain
heavy and still with his arms held high
stretched to heaven, he was grabbing at the sky
He grabbed at the sky like he was looking for God
in between the clouds and the sparkling fog
then he turned his face, I caught my breath
a sight so hideous, it scared me to death
Scaly, scarred and stained with tears
rotted teeth and furry ears
with a sorrowful voice that pierced my heart
he cried, “Why is everyone so afraid of the dark?”
Was he talking to himself or did he speak to me?
I pulled away so he would not see me
“I know you’re there,” he said, “You hide like them all.
You’re not very brave and that keeps your mind small.
"They call me a warning, tell me I’m a sin,
so I live on the outside, looking in.
And from here, the truth seems pretty clear,
still it hurts to be the target of so many fears.
"All the people run away crying,
‘Monster! Monster! We’re afraid!’
But they return with flame and spark.
They’re not afraid of me, they’re afraid of the dark.
"Born like this, with my beauty inside.
No say in it, but I will not hide.”
He laughed and then wandered away
as the birds all sang goodbye to the day
And he sang as he limped along
I overheard his little song
(it went like this…)
“Wear your masks and hide your faces.
Hang out in the sunny places.
The Nightingale sings as well as the Lark,
but you’ll never hear the song if you’re afraid of the dark.
"You’ll never hear the song if you’re afraid of the dark.
You’ll never hear the song if you’re afraid of the dark."
©1999 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved
Bonny Anne
I chased a seagull on a sunset breeze
past ripening fruit trees and flowers
across the cobblestones, down to the docks
unchaperoned for hours
dressed in cap and trouser legs
I haunted the sailing craft
my father swore I was a wild girl
but he shook his head and laughed
until I grew a little older
willful, impulsive, well-read
a dangerous combination
in a pretty little head
suffocating in drawing rooms
bored with niceties
I fled my fine life and inheritance
for the call of the salty sea
Aye, aye…
From Charles Town to New Providence
Havana, Barbados, Turneffe
I lived beside my pirate lover
and I dressed as a man on deck
I followed the code of the Brethren
kept my cutlass close at hand
sailing beneath the skull and crossed swords
waving "catch us who can"
Aye, aye…
"We will rob your rum and silver,
spices, lace, doubloons of gold.
Plunder water and provisions,
we'll take all that we can hold.
Beat the drums and blow the trumpets!
We're about to come on board.
I would bow my head if I were you.
See the way I shine my sword?"
Cerulean blue
wild, shocking wind
salt stinging in my scalp and skin
the ever rolling motion of
water below and sky above
Finally, one night our luck ran out
while the men were all drunk below deck
our schooner fell and we were captured
the men were all hanged by the neck
but me, I pled my belly
and I won a brief reprieve
and slipped away one day in secret
and out of history
Aye, aye…
©1998 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved
The 3 Dreams of J. Robert Oppenheimer
A wise man following a star
in a big gray Cadillac
drove across the desert
traced his future in his track
On to California!
to the scientific minds
to the duties of his nation
and the fate of all mankind.
I dreamed that I saw three men
standing in front of me
One held a box of elements
one held a golden key
one held the holy sonnets
and from them he read to me
“but I am betrothed
unto your enemy.”
The father moved through the spirit into the son
He revealed their secrets, one by one
He warned that someday
I would wish I never had begun
“It is truth you are looking for
but it is fame that you will see
Oppie’s opportunity
will be crowned in clouds at Trinity.”
A scientist following a car of soldiers up a hill
moved onto a holy place
and mobilized his will
to solve the brave new problems
to make a team like one
to change a fat boy under guard
into a thousand suns.
I dreamed that I was falling
down through the atmosphere
and from the earth below me
children’s voices I could hear
“Why have you bestowed upon us such an evil thing?”
I am an enigma
a tool for desperate men and kings.
The father moved through the spirit into the son
He revealed their secrets, one by one
He warned that someday I would wish
I never had begun
“It is truth you are looking for
but it is fame that you will see
Oppie’s opportunity
will be crowned in clouds at Trinity.”
Interrogate a hero
search for secrets in a face
call a witness to the stand to certify disgrace
bind a pair of bloody hands
that sinned against a world
twist a fevered nation into sheets of faith unfurled.
I dreamed a bridge of voices
crossed over the abyss
and like a mighty song
it rose from off the precipice
“I can prove that there is hope if I try hard enough.
You can praise or damn me
but dreams are made of this stuff.”
The father moved through the spirit into the son
He revealed their secrets, one by one
He warned that someday
I would wish I never had begun
“It was truth I was looking for
but it is fame that I have seen
and Oppie’s opportunity
now seems like some bad dream.”
©1982 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved
West Wind
West Wind sang September night
accompanied by the leaves in flight
stirred the birches with a solemn rub
teased the clouds across the moon above
Caught me in its fragrant air
stung my eyes, played with my hair
brought the first frost of the year
winter is near
winter is near
I listened to the lyrics of the song
the words were clear and the meaning strong
in darkness they declared the mighty rule
no thing would dare to fight
The garden could not disobey
the warm air, the birds flew away
the hunters killed all that remained
the weather changed
the weather changed
Silent snow descends and comforts the cold, hard ground
secret snow encircles me with an oath unbound
A fist of gust against my face
pushed me into the saddest place
across the freezing season line
and there a voice roared through my mind
“Take me in like I am your breath,
like I am your lover, like I am your death.
I will instruct and you will learn
the lessons are hard but worthy to earn.
“I will teach you to stand alone,
how to walk tall with a strong backbone,
how to greet your enemy on the road,
how to heal your weakness and atone.”
Silent snow descends and comforts the cold, hard ground
secret snow encircles me with an oath unbound
I built a snow girl in the wilderness
I formed and smoothed the icy mess
up to my knees in a creamy drift
I stood alone in the flaky mist
and I stood alone in my little life
and all I could see was white on white
and all I could hear was the singing wind
bitter cold but my closest friend
Silent snow descends and comforts the cold, hard ground
secret snow encircles me with an oath unbound
Spring shall come again
Spring shall come again
©1998 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved
The last days of white linen
The last days of white linen,
of wide brimmed hats
slanted against the sun,
stroll into the long weekend bookend of summer--
Toes in salt water and sand (if you’re lucky).
The last days of white linen
flap against still summer breezes and
wrinkle into sun-kissed skin
lined with all of the preceding seasons of stories
and marbled with yumminess, forgiven in the moment.
The last days of white linen
whisper of gentle folding and tucking away
with trust in the future.
This will be good next season.
I will be here to wear it.
Acrid, smoky, nearby smudges of fire will expire
with the rising of crocuses, daffodils.
Damp from the floods will evaporate after the
ice and snow (if you’re lucky).
The last days of white linen
will resurrect their fabric and form
early next summer,
as they always have
In seasons of heat
and bare shoulders.
©2017 Suzanne McDermott/All Rights Reserved
Think Like an Octopus
If you can’t put your finger on it:
extend your arms.
Smooth all surfaces
with both hands.
Sit back and think about
how it felt.
Draw the outline
in your mind.
Remember forever.
Melt all doubt.
Stand up,
take the center out.
Wear it on your finger
like a ring.
©1981 Suzanne McDermott/All Rights Reserved