I found in one of the tombs an inscription saying, 'If you touch my tomb, you will be eaten by a crocodile and hippopotamus.' It doesn't mean the hippo will eat you, it means the person really wanted his tomb to be protected.
quote by Zahi Hawass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Very Patient
Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.
Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.
Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!
We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Lonely Tombs
(e) I was strollin one day, in a lonely graveyard,
When a voice from the tomb, seemed to (b7) say,
I once (e) lived as you live, walked and talked as you talk,
But from earth I was (b7) soon called a- (e) way.
Chorus
(e) oh, those tombs, (oh those tombs),
Lonely tombs, (lonely tombs ),
Seemed to say in a low gentle (b7) tone,
Oh how (e) sweet, (oh how sweet),
Is the rest, (is the rest),
In our beautiful, (b7) heavenly (e) home.
Every voice from the tomb, seemed to whisper and say,
Livin man you must soon follow me,
And I thought as I gazed, on that cold marble slab,
What a sad lonesome place that must be.
Repeat chorus
I then came to the place, where my mother did lay,
And her voice, soft and low, from the tomb,
It said, son Im at rest, with the savior above,
I am safe in my heavenly home.
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tomb-Stone Of Saiyyid
O you whose life is confined in the material world
O you whose soul is imprisoned in the cage
Look at the freedom of this garden's warblers
Look at the prosperity of those once desolate
This is the congregation with which I was concerned
This is the reward of patience and perseverance
My tomb-stone is ardently desirous of speech, look!
At this tomb-stone's inscription with insight look!
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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I will announce some of the tombs I found next to the great pyramid of Khufu. One is an intact tomb that I have not opened yet.
quote by Zahi Hawass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Jews are the most tenacious people in history. Hebron is there to prove it. It ties 20 miles south of Jerusalem, 3,000 feet up in the Judaean hills. There, in the Cave of Machpelah, are the Tombs of the Patriarchs. According to ancient tradition, one sepulcher, itself of great antiquity, contains the mortal remains of Abraham, founder of the Jewish religion and ancestor of the Jewish race. Paired with his tomb is that of his wife Sarah. Within the building are the twin tombs of his son Isaac and his wife Rebecca. Across the inner courtyard is another pair of tombs, of Abraham's grandson Jacob and his wife Leah. Just outside the building is the tomb of their son Joseph. This is where the 4,000-year history of the Jews, in so far as it can be anchored in time and place, began.
Paul Johnson in A History of the Jews, Chapter One: Israelites (1987)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Within the Tomb
Within the tomb is another person,
Fair and concentrated in his or her own work;
It went many years before his or her death,
In prayers there stood the comprehension,
A brighter garden of tricks fell to the ground,
Climbing was a tragedy, climbing was defeat,
Mounting the horses seemed a deed of deeds
To be met with failure and embarrassment.
The person inside the tomb spoke
And relayed the thoughts of a lifetime;
To knock and alter the ages we wore.
Like some cage the person wetted the sky,
A ceiling of misery was in order.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Mockery
I met my love a-weeping,
Weeping in the night-tide pale;
Her head among the lily bloom,
Weeping by an empty tomb—
An unshut tomb.
I gently stroked her golden hair
That shone so
With the moon-glow
In the sad-sweet air.
Like playful breezes from the south
Came soft smile-dimples to her mouth;
And when again she seemed to weep
I kissed her wild-wide eyes to sleep;
While there beyond the lily bloom
I saw the watching, waiting tomb.
I left my love a-sleeping,
Sleeping in the cypress vale;
Smiling sadly in the gloom;
Sleeping in the fastened tomb—
The tight-shut tomb.
How round the tomb the moving mists
Will twirl so
When the wind blows,
That the ivy twists
And shudders round the cold grey stone:
A serpent on a crumbling throne.
While I, upon a nearby mound
Hear salt tears soaking in the ground;
But there, when’er the lilies bloom,
I hear low laughter in the tomb.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Tomb 19
Tomb 19 was sacred 1000 years or more
The Mayan king was restless a curse upon the door
His shrouds of royal fabric his journey to be made
To offer spirits good and evil 14 beads of sale
The jade had ancient power or so beliefs allege
To anyone who plundered they would drive him to the edge
If you take the treasures of Tomb 19
Let the curse remind you
Take the treasures of Tomb 19
But never look behind you
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wanted Person
You are a wanted person and,
You've stolen from many;
You are a wanted person and,
You thought you are rich from your theft.
The law is looking for you,
The people are tracking for you down,
But for how long will you hide from them?
A wanted person is what you are,
So try to sow a better seed than hate;
A wanted person is what you are,
So try to do the right thing than stealing;
One day the law will get to you.
You will be exposed one day,
You will be caught one day,
There and then you will know your mistakes;
A wanted person is what you are.
Like the nakedness of a chicken,
Likewise will your shame be;
You are a wanted person and,
The law is after you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Empty Tomb
In Arlington, where valor sleeps,
there is a marble Tomb
where heroes rest whose names are known
to God and God alone.
From Korea and the fields of France
Brought here to hallowed sleep
The unknowns of our nation's wars
Are honored with a wreath.
One body from the tomb is gone-
He served in Vietnam.
The mystery of identity
Found in a shard of bone
Rededicate his empty crypt
To the missing of that war-
To honor and keep faith with them
who never have come home.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Recipe For A Hippopotamus Sandwich
A hippo sandwich is easy to make.
All you do is simply take
One slice of bread,
One slice of cake,
Some mayonnaise
One onion ring,
One hippopotamus
One piece of string,
A dash of pepper -
That ought to do it.
And now comes the problem…
Biting into it!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Mu
Japanese film director Yasujiro Ozu's grave only has the inscription of the Japanese character 'mu, ' which means 'nothingness.'
shall i say that
i have been there
and found the same
thing too...
it was all
mu.
but anyway
we who are still here
have to move on
to the next chapters
still searching
for the
non-mu.
who knows?
something to touch
and keep burning
in our fingers
someone to hug and
keep this life
moving
something to live for
that quintessence
that we must have
to put some meaning
on those walls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let there be no inscription upon my tomb; let no man write my epitaph: no man can write my epitaph.
quote by Robert Emmet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All We Ever Look For
Just look at your father
And youll see how you took after him.
Me, Im just another
Like my brothers
Of my mothers genes.
All they ever want for you
Are the things they didnt do.
All they ever wanted--a little clue.
All they ever wanted--the truth.
All they ever wanted--a little bit of you.
All they ever wanted,
But they never did get.
The whims that were weeping for
Our parents would be beaten for
Leave the breast
And then the rest
And then regret you ever left.
All were ever looking for
Is another open door.
All we ever look for--another womb.
All we ever look for--our own tomb.
All we ever look for--ooh, la lune.
All we ever look for--a little bit of you, too.
All we ever look for,
But we never do score.
All we ever look for--a god.
All we ever look for--ooh, a drug.
All we ever look for--a great big hug.
All we ever look for--a little bit of you.
All we ever look for--a little bit of you, too.
All we ever look for,
But we never do score.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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neath A Cold Gray Tomb Of Stone
Passing by a lonesome graveyard
Everything I love is gone
Weeping as they lay my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
In this world i'm left to wander
With no one to call my own
While my precious darling's sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Out there in that lonesome graveyard
She is sleeping all alone
And I burried my heart with her
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Skies above are dark and stormy
All the sunshine,all is gone
For the while my love is sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
My heart is dead and yet i'm living
Traveling through this world alone
I wish that I was with my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shall I use sword to solve Gordian Knot
when I opened my eyes to the world,
Not only my mouth opened to
breast of my mother,
Much before that my ears were open,
And skin that sensed touch of men or woman,
Known or unknown,
Expressing that by laugh or weep,
Then slowly opened eyes to see that world,
And light entered in eyes earlier,
Now reached brain!
Then started the questions and mystery Train,
And I became as what my elders trained!
But some years later I learnt life is from womb to tomb,
That made me to sit on tomb, into which I
saw someone sleeping,
As bone and skeleton,
With that hollow skull,
Then I learnt where one day I have to Go!
I disliked to sleep there with that hollow skull
I reached there without hollow skull,
But with brainful of painful thoughts!
If tomb is my destination,
Why came from womb,
If I can't assimilate, why should I eat,
If I can't solve the puzzle, why should bother it,
If everything is fate, how best life that I can rate?
I came to home straight and
Slept in a wooden box to feel my tomb with soulful brain!
I started learning to
Go where I should go,
Go and sleep in that wooden tomb and slept well there
and became familiar with that!
Then came my mother where I
am,
When she learnt that I am in my
own tomb,
Called father to show where I
am, Both lifted me
And laughed, Kissed me and said,
'You naughty, hiding there? '
Someday I have to throw this old used scrap in the waste box called my tomb,
If life Gordian knot,
Shall I use that sword to cut the rope,
The sword of self knowledge,
which is ultimate and impatient action,
I need not go and win the world,
Only I want win myself,
Self that in me have that thrill
And the joy of solving puzzle,
Within fairness of the game?
It kills the spirit in me,
And the spirit of puzzle
If I cut the rope,
And that game is over to me!
Let me play a while,
my mother is always ready,
She takes my into her lap
I will sleep in that love that is divine,
Than sleeping here in this tomb,
Once I throw that baggage aside
That was useful always in this journey,
All fate goes to that bag and not it can come unto me,
I am that son of God,
And God has to guide me as he is always my elder,
And He is my Fate, and I am destined to play and sleep with him!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Crazy Jane And The Bishop
Bring me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.
Coxcomb was the least he said:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Nor was he Bishop when his ban
Banished Jack the Journeyman,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor so much as parish priest,
Yet he, an old book in his fist,
Cried that we lived like beast and beast:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
The Bishop has a skin, God knows,
Wrinkled like the foot of a goose,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor can he hide in holy black
The heron's hunch upon his back,
But a birch-tree stood my Jack:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Jack had my virginity,
And bids me to the oak, for he
(all find safety in the tomb.)
Wanders out into the night
And there is shelter under it,
But should that other come, I spit:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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To Keep Your Tomb
You must leave someone
With some means for him
To protect your tomb
From falling from neglect.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Mountain Tomb
POUR wine and dance if manhood still have pride,
Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom;
The cataract smokes upon the mountain side,
Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet
That there be no foot silent in the room
Nor mouth from kissing, nor from wine unwet;
Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
In vain, in pain; the cataract still cries;
The everlasting taper lights the gloom;
All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes,
Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Mouths Of Hippopotami And Some Recent Novels
(with apologies to Frederic Taber Cooper)
I well recall (and who does not)
The circus bill-board hippopotamus,
whose wide distended jaws
For fear and terror were good cause.
That month, that vasty carmine cave,
Could munch with ease a Nubian slave;
In fact, the bill-board hippopot-
amus could bolt a house and lot!
Wide opened, that tremendous mouth
Obscured three-quarters of the south
Side of Schmidt’s barn, and promised me
Thrills, shocks, delights and ecstasy.
And then, alas! what sad non plus
The living hippopotamus!
’Twas but a stupid, sodden lump
As thrilling as an old elm stump.
Its mouth—unreasonably small—
The hippo opened not at all,
Or, if it did, it was about
As thrilling as a teapot spout.
The Crimson Junk, by Doris Watt,
I’ve read it. Who, I pray, has not?
Bill Wastel, by C. Marrow. The
Plaid Cowslip. And The Hocking Lee.
The Fallow Field, by Sally Loo;
The Rose in Chains. I’ve read that too;
I’ve read them all for promised treat
Of thrills, emotions, tremblings sweet.
The bill-board hippopotamus
It was a wild, uprageous cuss—
The real one? Well—Can you recall
That it had any mouth at all?
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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