Every one has his place: the dead in the cemetery and the living at the table.
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Cemetery Drive
cemetery drive,
covered in mist,
driving down the road,
so cold,
the crypts and tombstones cast dark shadow,
the bats and the wind,
grimly howl,
cemetery drive,
a place of shadow,
cemetery drive,
tall dead trees,
comfort the dead,
black roses grow along the road,
they fight the cold,
and give the living hope,
the living hope their hearts never stop,
and they'll never have to call cemetery drive home,
and tend to the shadows and black roses
poem by Catie Belle Stark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Afternoon In The Cemetery
A dog with a lame leg drags itself around the tombs
Mrs. watson talks with someone whos been dead for years
A sickly smell of urine rising from her tights
Two old ladies on a park bench sitting silent already dead
What a wonderfull place to have a cup of tea
What a wonderfull place to read a book bout love
What a wonderfull place to sit around with me under a tree
On an afternoon in the cemetery
Millions of flies spiral around a cross before they land
In a fresh grave someone dug last night
The little chappel looks so sad even the flowers seem to cry
And all those people seem to wait for the moment they will die
What a wonderfull place to have a cup of tea
What a wonderfull place to read a book bout
What a wonderfull place to sit around with me under a tree
On an afternoon in the cemetery
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soothing graves
one thing about grave
about the cemetery that i like
they are all so real, real as death
and the people who come visiting
they come with their real self
laugh, smile or tears they are
all so reall, for there is no more need
to fake one's feeling, put on a face
everything is now known to the dead
or remains forever unknown
there is a quietness in the grave
and the cemetery that i like
it is the ingratiating quietness
that is so soothing to the soul
the calm acceptance of life
that to die is also a part of living
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just love the Cemetery
one thing about grave
about the cemetery that i like
they are all so real, real as death
and the people who come visiting
they come with their real self
laugh, smile or tears they are
all so reall, for there is no more need
to fake one's feeling, put on a face
everything is now known to the dead
or remains forever unknown
there is a quietness in the grave
and the cemetery that i like
it is the ingratiating quietness
that is so soothing to the soul
the calm acceptance of life
that to die is also a part of living
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Day Someone Will Say The Same Of Me
The hearse through the main street is passing slow
With the funeral cars following in a single row
Is the dead person a he or a she?
One day someone will say the same of me.
And did that person die young or old
And will her or his life story be told?
To the departed that does not matter 'twould seem
As the dead do not have a sense of self esteem.
The funeral towards the cemetery winds it's way
Up through the main street at noon of day
But on the cortege shoppers no interest show
As in and out of shops they go.
The dead from the Land of the living gone
But life for the living must go on
And the same fate surely awaits you and I
As the dead person in the hearse going by.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Coroner's Day
A torn shirt smeared in red
On the table calmly sleeps the dead
Strewn around are organs and the heart
Incredible to imagine them as the departed’s part!
Useless as they are now experimental blocks
Drained of life heedless to the clocks
No love no emotion in the cold dim room
Is living natural or more so is doom?
Reeking of the dead eerie scissors sweep
One by one they cut strong and deep
Dismembering the lover cutting through the brave
But no show of courage when the abode is grave!
Drying bloods of passion drip from the dead
The once living corpse on the table goes fade
With no words or voice feelings blown away
He could at last make the coroner’s day!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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The living are denied a table; the dead get a whole coffin.
Your dressing table in the hall
In the house in fifth avenue
I put a small pink white marble table
below a mirror in the corridor
with a bowl with flowers standing on it
that acted as your dressing table
and as a place of display
where I saw your face smiling back at me
while you were doing your hair
teasing with curling tongs
or reflections of the rows of paintings
with the wood floor fading into the distance
and now that mirror and table
is probably still there,
but you are living alone
in that big house
and will never again
smile back into my face.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cemetery In My Mind
Locked in the mall in a state of fright
Looking for salvation in a car headlight
But you cant have what you cant buy
Tomorrow is better than yesterday,
Tomorrow is better than today,
Tomorrow is better than yesterday they say
Cemetery in my mind
Cemetery in my mind
This must be my time
Wake work drink sleep retire
Tide comes up way too high
You can fall but can you rise
Cemetery in my mind,
You can fall but can you rise
Theres no pulse no sign of life,
Cemetery in my mind.
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock & Roll Is Dead
You think you're on top of the world
But you know it's really over
Runnin' round with diamond rings
And coke spoons that are overflowin
Rock and Roll is Dead
But all the money in the world
Can't buy you from the place you're going to
Rock and Roll is Dead (x3)
You can't even sing or play an instrument
So you just scream instead
You're living for an image
So you got five hundred women in your bed
Rock and Roll is Dead
But it's real hard to be yourself
When you're living with those demons
In your head
Rock and Roll is Dead (x3)
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lilydale
[ music: robert buck/lyric: natalie merchant ]
Come as we go far away
From the noise of the street
Walk a path so narrow
To a place where we feel at ease
Some think it is haunting
To be drawn to the cemetery ground
As we
Theres a stillness here
Thankful found
Childs pose angelic
A stone lamb at her feet
Part the matted overgrowth
To read the carven elegy
Some think it so haunting
To be drawn to the cemetery ground
As we
Theres a stillness here
Thankful found
Born in new albion
Of rice family elite
Wed to myron bilowe
Thrice with sons
Blessed was she
Some think it so haunting
To be drawn to the cemetery ground
As we
Gods acre is a fenced in
Hollow ground
Here soon to rise up
Amelia tender and sweet
Her last words spoke
All is well
All is peace
Some think it so haunting
To be drawn to the cemetery ground
As we
Gods acre is a fenced in
Hollow ground
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Him I Love Day And Night
OF him I love day and night, I dream'd I heard he was dead;
And I dream'd I went where they had buried him I love--but he was not
in that place;
And I dream'd I wander'd, searching among burial-places, to find him;
And I found that every place was a burial-place;
The houses full of life were equally full of death, (this house is
now;)
The streets, the shipping, the places of amusement, the Chicago,
Boston, Philadelphia, the Mannahatta, were as full of the dead
as of the living,
And fuller, O vastly fuller, of the dead than of the living;
--And what I dream'd I will henceforth tell to every person and age,
And I stand henceforth bound to what I dream'd;
And now I am willing to disregard burial-places, and dispense with
them; 10
And if the memorials of the dead were put up indifferently
everywhere, even in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be
satisfied;
And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my own corpse, be duly
render'd to powder, and pour'd in the sea, I shall be
satisfied;
Or if it be distributed to the winds, I shall be satisfied.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The cemetery of the victims of human cruelty in our century is extended to include yet another vast cemetery, that of the unborn.
quote by Pope John Paul II
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Roll Is Dead
You think youre on top of the world
But you know its really over
Runnin round with diamond rings
And coke spoons that are overflowin
Rock and roll is dead
But all the money in the world
Cant buy you from the place youre going to
Rock and roll is dead (x3)
You cant even sing or play an instrument
So you just scream instead
Youre living for an image
So you got five hundred women in your bed
Rock and roll is dead
But its real hard to be yourself
When youre living with those demons
In your head
Rock and roll is dead (x3)
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Dead Whisper To The Living
When the dead whisper to the living
That they can’t go home again
The living wonder and wait and have no answer
They want to help but they cannot-
The dead whisper and whisper and whisper again
And then cry out at night in the screams of dreams of nightmares everlasting
They ask they demand
But no one ever answers them.
‘You can’t come home again’ says the cliché
And the dead know the meaning of this on their flesh
If they have any flesh left-
They want to return
They want to touch this place again
But they cannot-
How gone are we all then and will we by when we say goodbye forever
To this dear earth and small home
Which we sometimes love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rock And Roll Is Dead
Ooohoooh yeah
You think you're on top of the world
But you know it's really over
Runnin' round with diamond rings
And coke spoons that are overflowin'
Rock and roll is dead
But all the money in the world
Can't buy you from the place you're going to
Ooohoooh yeah
Rock and roll is dead [X3]
You can't even sing or play an instrument
So you just scream instead
Oh yeah
You're living for an image
So you got five hundred women in your bed
Oh yeah
Rock and roll is dead
But it's real hard to be yourself
When you're living with those demons in your head
Ooohoooh yeah
Rock and roll is dead [X3]
Rock and roll is dead [X7]
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Circus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Section J Row 4 Grave 25
Section J Row 4 Grave 25
Memorial Day,1945
With aching knees he climbed the steps
That ringed the bandstand round.
The Living sat on folding chairs
on consecrated ground.
The general turned and faced the dead,
His back was to the living.
He told his boys, dead heroes all,
He hoped they'd be forgiving.
The fight was hard at Anzio
The foe ringed them around.
Through desperate days in mad forays
They paid with blood for ground.
The cost proved high, so many dead
Still others maimed for life.
It is not sweet or glorious
to die in pain and strife..
If his mistakes had caused their deaths
He hoped they would forgive.
For only men prepared to die
Are men prepared to live.
And if some fool should ever speak
Of glorious death in battle
He’d set them straight, at any rate,
About such stupid prattle..
Jack Toffey in his coffin lies
Among eight Thousand others.
White Crosses mark the resting place
of Jack and all his brothers.
This is based on an actual Memorial Day speech given by General Lucian Truscott at the Nettino Military cemetery a few weeks after the victory in Europe. He served under General Mark Clark and commanded the salient at Anzio.
Lt. Col. John J. Toffey Jr, twice winner of the Silver Star, died in the fighting at the town of Palestrina, Italy, which is famous for its roses.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Six Word Story...BULLS EYE CHAMP
Archer....buried in cemetery's dead centre.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Science is a cemetery of dead ideas.
quote by Miguel de Unamuno
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead End Street
Theres a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second class,
We dont understand,
(dead end!)
Why we should be on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are living on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
Im deep in debt and now its much too late.
We both want to work so hard,
We cant get the chance,
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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