TYPISTS IN THE TOWERS
Trevor Morgan is hereby identified as the author of this work
in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act in the year of our Lord's incarnation 1988.
With the exception of "New Hope" (that was written in 1997) and the quatrains (that were written in January 2001), these verses have been composed between the fourteenth of September and first of October 2001. Some were written down on the beach at Worthing in Sussex in England but most were written down on the Hebridean Islands of Mull and of Iona.
In quiet places there is space for reflection
DEDICATION
These verses are dedicated to war's folly
and the remembrance of all who died in New York, Virginia and Pennsylvania.
"We shall remember them"
Angels
The air is full of angels
There's angels all around
Where wickedness was done
Much goodness can be found
Typist In A Tower
A typist in a tower
Got in on time that day
And she was feeling truly glad,
She needed all the pay
The money went to pay high rent
Fees, bills and all dues
And money is not heaven sent
When children need new shoes
She made the coffee for the man
Who had his resume
He'd searched so hard to find this job
Was this his lucky day?
He waited with a glowing hope
The coffee in his hand
Now in this firm he knew he'd cope
This wait he could not stand
He sat there sipping nervously
Pondering, what was to be,
And in that very instant he
Would share her destiny
Before The Equinox
Strange calm before the equinox
The future's out of reach
It's there like a Pandora's box
As some false prophets preach
She typed the last line of the text
She'd started yesterday
And at the end it was spell checked
In her habitual way
The future is not there to see
No matter how we strive
And as she pressed a zero key
She ceased to be alive
With such kinetic energy
They shared a destiny
A blinding flash a deafening crash
And then eternity
Her vapour's borne upon the air
Her dust upon the breeze
It has been scattered everywhere
And blown across the seas
A lover waited there at home
And watched in silent dread
He hoped and hoped she'd got in late
And prayed she was not dead
After The Equinox
A storm after the equinox
Peace is put out of reach
Grey Beard opened Pandora's box
We're blood-sucked by the leach
And in that sad despondent place
His grief he could not stand
A cold east wind blew in his face
A child reached for his hand
Mundane things may help us through
When grief is all around
In trauma there's nothing new
It is a well known ground
And though the dust will soon be gone
A man weeps there at home
And though he feels so sad and wan
He does not weep alone
Another Typist
Another typist in that place
Was very hard at work
She had just paused for a short space
Then felt the tower jerk
Quatrain
2.01: From 01 to two eight
Much blood will stain the streets
'Til the end of all who hate
Whilst righteous hearts still beat
And smoke and flames came from below
A fear welled up within
And in a lurid orange glow
Her thoughts were for her kin
She phoned her husband at their home
But no one answered there
She left a message on the phone
That told of her despair
She gazed upon the darkening smoke
And felt she had to cry
Then fought through all the fumes and choke
She did not want to die
The future's not for us to see
The stairway glowed with heat
And then the ceilings all gave way
Floors fell beneath her feet
With much kinetic energy
It was her destiny
To meet a sudden brutal death
And then eternity
Old Writ
In an old writ it has been wrote
Though you may have the power
"Thou shalt not ever beat a woman
Not even with a flower"
Her husband who was not at home
Watched in a silent dread
He hoped and hoped she'd got in late
And that she was not dead
And in a sad despondent place
Hope drained away like sand
A cold east wind blew in his face
A friend reached for his hand
He sat there wondering nervously
Within - alone and blue
Why should this be her destiny
There was so much to do
The children now needed his care
There are things to be done
While sympathy is everywhere
Grief can block out the sun
Forebode
An eerie calm upon the sea
Dark clouds up in the sky
Who can foretell what's going to be
And yet false prophets try
With eerie feelings everywhere
An eagle's gliding by
I now forebode what soon may be
And so I sit and cry
Mundane things may help us through
When hope is not around
In trauma there's nothing new
Yet new hope can be found
But she lay crushed beneath the mess
That had crashed to the ground
What's left of her we cannot guess
For she was never found
And though what's crushed may soon be gone
A man weeps in his home
And though he feels so sad and wan
He does not weep alone
He Wept
He wept and felt he was alone
In his desolation
And at that time he did not know
Tears flowed in every nation
Those great sins that had shocked the world
The deeds fanatics do
Saw battle ensigns then unfurled
But justice must be true
Afghan Woman
The Afghan woman washed the clothes
It was her hidden chore
She had worked down in Kabul once
But that was long before
Before the change the clerics brought
Without a compromise
They decree what shall be thought
But who's to say they're wise?
The Afghan woman paused awhile
To watch a flight of birds
Beneath her veil she'd sometimes smile
Or curse the cleric's words
She gazed upon a darkening cloud
She could not question why
The distant rumbles now seemed loud
She did not want to die
Justice
Justice has an image
That we all recognise
The scales in her hand
The blindfold on her eyes
But justice would be naked if
She did not have a sword
Tobacco breath of grey Imam
Is kind enough maybe
But could she not choose her own man
Choose her own destiny?
The third wife of an Imam
Not such a lot of fun
She could not know of this because
To question is not done
So this third wife of an Imam
Looked worried at the sky
Her faith was strong in Islam
As storm clouds drifted by
And in that poor far distant place
Her fear was hard to stand
A cold west wind blew in her face
No one reached for her hand
The future's not for her to see
Although she may well crave
Yet while her spirit may be free
She's treated like a slave
Man has no right of dominance
Over all of woman kind
Nor to hold sway through violence
They can't enslave the mind
Americans she'd heard about
Who had died far away
And now there was but little doubt
That war would come her way
Her father's gone, she'd felt some gloom
He'd died but gone to grace
And this child that kicked in her womb
Could one day take his place
Mundane things may help us through
When fear and grief abound
In trauma there's nothing new
It's such a well trod ground
Quatrain
1.61: Cross and Crescent clash
With faith both blind and true
And everything they smash
Will bloom again anew
Few Converts
A hundred years of few conversions
A hundred years of blight
A hundred years of pure aversion
They'd brought on all this blight
Sorties Away
Carriers turned into the wind
In distant deep wide seas
And now because some fools had sinned
The world is out of ease
And sortie after sortie went
To deal a hammer blow
With a resolve that won't relent
They're sent to cause more woe
The carrion of the deep will feed
Upon much mortal flesh
And madness will not yet recede
We're all caught in its mesh
Carriers turned back on their course
Their sorties are away
But actions done without remorse
May cause yet more dismay
Their Turn
We need no blinding light
That brings death from the skies
Or men who sit in caves
Deciding just who dies
Caveman will have his day
When it's his turn to die
He'll try to run away
We'll hear a baby cry
Feathers Ruffled
Bald eagle with a damaged wing
Hawks guided in as planned
We hear a carrion vulture sing
Where dead flesh is at hand
Bald eagle has small feathers harmed
Hawks dead upon the ground
The vulture's kind now cower alarmed
The eagle makes no sound
Bald eagle with a damaged wing
Hawks guided in as planned
We hear a carrion vulture sing
Where dead flesh is at hand
Bald eagle has small feathers harmed
Hawks dead upon the ground
The vulture's kind now cower alarmed
The eagle makes no sound
Quatrain
1.62: The pinkness of the sky
Above the eastern beach
The heartless seem to cry
Their money's out of reach
Pre-destiny or Choice?
Things are just as they are
We should do what we can
Some say fate's in the hands of God
And not the hands of man
Things are just as they are
Some will do what they do
They may think they're the hands of God
And right when they wrong you
When deadly deeds are done
All should do what they can
For fate's not all the hand of God
Predestined in a plan
Free will is there as well
In much of what we do
That's our fate from the hands of God
To choose is up to you
To have choice is our fate
Each must do what they can
Free choice is from the hands of God
Predestined in a plan
Predestined then to choose
We should not make a fuss
Some may think they're the hand of God
And right when they wrong us
To have choice is not bad
Nor good beyond our ken
Badness is not the hand of God
But wrong choices by men
Now what will be will be
So when we right a wrong
We may think we're the hand of God
And justice makes us strong
But who are we to judge
Each must do what they can
Justice is in the hands of God
But we don't know his plan
For as we right a wrong
New wrongs we may well do
Vengeance is in the hands of God
It's just not up to you
Things are just as they are
Each should do what they can
Some say fate's in the hands of God
And not the hands of man
Predestined now to choose
And choice our destiny
We don't know if we win or lose
So what will be will be
Bolts From The Blue
Death from out the clear blue sky
A bolt of mighty power
No time for any there to fly
Death comes where clerics cower
With bragging of the boastful men
Their women have been cowed
Humility will be seen when
Sad bearded heads are bowed
But can we trust their calmer words
If they should lose the fight
Like flapping wings of humming birds
How can we see what's right?
Hateful Few
Within the heart of some
There is no more than hate
And if we live or die
They claim right to our fate
Where darkness is within
And just a wicked will
There they will see no sin
"Good" is done when they kill
A faith's turned upside down
Commandments are rewrite
They make of faith a clown
For life are they unfit?
Loving Bombs
(Apologies to John Betjemen's "Slough")
Come loving bombs and fall on thou
You seem no longer human now
You have preached for so long of death
An' hissed out hate with every breath
You train the young for martyrdom
Because you loath all our freedom
YOU chose the sword and not the plough
So loving bombs are coming now
A creed that only preaches hate
May now see wisdom but too late
There are forces well trained for this
To give you all your "martyr's bliss"
So why have you a face of gloom
Do you doubt bliss beyond your tomb?
Quatrain
1.10: From Tashkent to Turfan
Long line will there be drawn
Where they're gone to a man
In games just as a pawn
Quatrain
1.53: The beast is on the Hill
The hound is in the field
In summer's icy chill
Grand faith will be no shield
Empathise
For some, religion's just a ruse
Some will wrong who they can
And in whatever way they choose
God's claimed for acts of man
Chorus:
For those who cannot empathise
Are much the same within
For they just cannot recognise
Where actions are a sin
A good God they could well make sad
Where they do not relent
And claim there's good in what is bad
Then kill the innocent
Chorus:
Should they be asked to justify
The worst things that they do
All wickedness they would deny
The truth's beyond their view
Chorus:
Groves
In groves where nightshade grows
There's funguses and flowers
While big brash men walk past them
Some women know their powers
Widow's Sea
The boat rolls gently on the wave
A small bird's flying by
We know the sea's a sailor's grave
And like the breeze we sigh
The seaweed's washed up on the beach
Its scent is on the air
Her sailor's soul is out of reach
Winds blow the widow's hair
An eagle soars above the shore
The tide is on the turn
It flies above the sailor's grave
A widow's left to yearn
The tern dives in the gentle wave
Then rises to the skies
And flies above the sailor's grave
A lonely widow cries
Whitebait are caught there in a net
The fisherman's at sea
There are to be more widows yet
It's what is going to be
The widow's weeping by the bay
The orphans by her side
Yet these sad times will pass away
For goodness will abide
The boat lulls on the gentle calm
Soon no clouds in the sky
In stillness is a gentle balm
And widow's tears will dry
New Hope
In deep shade 'neath a gnarled old oak
There's nothing can grow there
Like where you hanged the last of hope
And dwelled in deep despair
And crying and lamenting were
The only thing you knew
Until you turned yourself away
And sought for something new
You wandered into sunlit glades
And thought you caught a sight
You did not then return to shades
So dwell now in a light
The light that shines without, within
A new life can create
When you can find the will to win
Your pain it will abate
The light you have is called "new hopes"
The darkness was despair
It held you like old hempen ropes
That vanished in clean air
New hopes are like the springtime leaf
That unfurls on warm days
Then time abates a forlorn grief
And new hopes shine their rays
Dawn
Small hope within the dark small hours
All happiness had fled
But soon will come some warmer powers
Dawn's sky is turning red
Love Not Hate
Be guided now by love
And don't give in to hate
And do accept a typist's death
Was not the hand of fate
The power that killed her
We've seen it's like before
Came from some low and evil curs
Who may soon be no more
Shocks and Rages
(Tune: Rock of Ages)
Shocks and rages come to me
Strangers seek our injury
Through the murder and the blood
Unforgiven by the good
Despite smiles hand shakes and charm
We got blows intent on harm
Shocks and rages stay with me
With the scars of injury
Through the need to weep and cry
We don't know the reason why
Is there reason here at all
As thugs answer Satan's call
Shocks and rages could make me
Inflict unjust injury
Wielding a mighty hammer blow
Not sure who may be the foe
Craving vengeance with a lust
Can make good folk act unjust
Shocks and rages I'll control
Not let wrath now taint my soul
Justice we must all uphold
Like the martyrs did of old
Not blows done in rage's heat
But foes brought to judgement's seat
Sonnet: Lovers Unconsoled
So lonely are the lovers unconsoled
Now counsellors have listened to their words
The one they love they will no longer hold
While souls in grief just cannot soar like birds
And emptiness is not a thing to share
But mundane tasks are still there to be done
While sympathy well may be everywhere
In grief there is a process to be run
Voids in the soul are opened up by grief
And whilst it's hard to ever see an end
With time and little things there is relief
Whether it is with children or a friend
While there is horror in a bloody strife
Joy will be found when getting on with life
Grieve And Grieve
You grieve and grieve and in your mind
You're torn by all the strain
You weep and weep and then you find
That you must weep again
Chorus:
The patterns that are working through
The chaos of events
They're never really quite in view
So nothing now makes sense
Violent forces may attack
When you are quite at ease
A rage may then make you strike back
But gives grief no release
Chorus:
It's not for us to understand
The way that things work out
Whether we are so full of faith
Or deeply rift with doubt
Chorus:
The smiles of a grieving man
The tears of a clown
Now understand just what you can
Before your sun goes down
Chorus:
Our understanding's not complete
Despite how hard we try
Events are never really neat
So still confused we cry
Chorus:
So cry and cry until your mind
Gets some release from pain
And by and by you may soon find
You'll start to live again
Chorus:
The patterns that are working through
The chaos of events
Are never really clear to view
So little will make sense
It Will End