Related quotes: In his fifth year the...

Early Occult Memory Systems Of The Lower Midwest

In his fifth year the son, deep in the backseat
of his father's Ford and the mysterium
of time, holds time in memory with words,
night, this night, on the way to a stalled rig south
of Kiowa Creek where the plains wind stacks
the skeletons of weeds on barbed-wire fences
and rattles the battered DeKalb sign to make
the child think of time in its passing, of death.

Cattle stare at flat-bed haulers gunning clumps
of black smoke and lugging damaged drill pipe
up the gullied, mud-hollowed road. Road, this
road. Roustabouts shouting from the crow's nest
float like Ascension angels on a ring of lights.
Chokecherries gouge the purpled sky, cloud-
swags running the moon under, and starlight
rains across the Ford's blue hood. Blue, this blue.

Later, where black flies haunt the mud tank,
the boy walks along the pipe rack dragging
a stick across the hollow ends to make a kind
of music, and the creek throbs with frog songs,
locusts, the rasp of tree limbs blown and scattered.
The great horse people, his father, these sounds,
these shapes saved from time's dark creek as the car
moves across the moving earth: world, this world.

poem by B.H. Fairchild
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

I Met Death

I was waiting, watching one day
When Death came along, looking
As if there was something he wanted to say

His hair was as black as the sky at night
And in the wind it blew like smoke
He had come a long way in his worn black cloak

So I invited him in and I did say
If you’d like to you can stay
But Death said:

“I’m only passing through
For the clock’s hands they say
They are ticking the seconds of my life away”

And I answered,
Thinking I’d misunderstood
As Death’s dark black eye gleamed under his dark black hood

“If your Death, how can you die? ”
You see, Death didn’t seem the kind to lie.

And Death wasn’t phased at all,

“No longer Death I may become,
Or so says He if I don’t complete
The most horrible, horrible, feat.

“The most horrible feat? ”
I had to say
Could it be so horrible,
That Death couldn’t say?

“Death, ” said Death, “is the horrible feat.”
And then he faded away, like smoke into the blue, blue sky
But I think, before he left, I might have seen him cry.

I had never in my life, seen Death again
Until the night I stood outside in the rain
When he said, “I’m sorry miss, but this is good bye.”
And I found out what it’s like to die.

So we went, and parted, to each our own way,
But one more time I want to heard Death say, “I’m sorry miss, -“
Marking the end of the day

poem by Jinny Tikanus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bright Lights

The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Creek

Once I was young and so unsure
Id try any ill to find the cure
An old man told me
Tryin to scold me
oh, son, dont wade to deep in bitter creek,
(bitter creek)
Out where the desert meets the sky
Is where I go when I wanna hide
Oh, peyote (oh,peyote,mm)
She tried to show me
(tried to show me)
You know there aint no cause to weep
At bitter creek
(bitter creek)
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Were gonna hit the road for one last time
We can walk right in and steal em blind
All that money (all that money,ooh..)
No more runnin (no more runnin)
I cant wait to see the old mans face
When I win the race
(bitter creek)
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo,
Doo doo doo doo doo
Doo..........

song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passing Through

I saw jesus on the cross on a hill called calvary
Do you hate mankind for what they done to you?
He said, talk of love not hate, things to do - its getting late.
Ive so little time and Im only passing through.
Passing through, passing through.
Sometimes happy, sometimes blue,
Glad that I ran into you.
Tell the people that you saw me passing through.
I saw adam leave the garden with an apple in his hand,
I said now youre out, what are you going to do?
Plant some crops and pray for rain, maybe raise a little cane.
Im an orphan now, and Im only passing through.
Passing through, passing through ...
I was with washington at valley ford, shivering in the snow.
I said, how come the men here suffer like they do?
Men will suffer, men will fight, even die for what is right
Even though they know theyre only passing through
Passing through, passing through ...
I was with franklin roosevelts side on the night before he died.
He said, one world must come out of world war two (ah, the fool)
Yankee, russian, white or tan, he said, a man is still a man.
Were all on one road, and were only passing through.
Passing through, passing through ...
(lets do it one more time)
Passing through, passing through ...

song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Matchmaker

Behind my house there is a quaint little pond
And every time it rains a little green frog responds
I know that he is lonely and cries into the night
He is longing to find a mate to be complete and all right

The heat is sweltering and he swims on afternoons
Longing for the rain during the night to voice his tunes
Sometimes he is resting on a moist mossy green rock
Looking around aware of his biological clock

On the other side there is a creek behind the pool
There is a small green frog all alone and it's cruel
So I went and captured the one by my pond
And brought it over to the creek to make a bond

Now my nights are filled with silence and peace
And one would think my good night's rest would increase
But instead I was wondering if the frogs getting along
Because if not - then what I did was totally wrong

This morning my neighbor that lives by the creek
Came over to complain about the noise at night's peak
She said that there is a whole family of green frog's right there
She will never know how happy I am about that - I swear

poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cripple Creek

1: well I married a wife in the month of june,
Married her up by the light of the moon.
We live down on cripple creek.
Weve been there about a week.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
2: now cripple creek girls about half-grown,
Jump on a man like a dog on a bone.
Roll my pants up to my knees,
Cross on cripple creek a-when I please.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
3: well Im goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Im a-goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
Chorus: Im a-goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin to cripple creek to have some fun.

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sun C/79

Sun is the reason
And the world it will bloom
Cause sun lights the sky
And the sun lights the moon
Sun is the reason
All the happy trees are green
Then who can explain
The light in your dream
Sit you down
Sit you down young gentleman
Theres something I want you to know
You keep on asking me
You keep on asking me why
Why are we here?
It started a long time ago
Me and your mum on the night
Yeh yeh yeh ..we met
I was on the road again
She was in c79
Ill never never forget
Ill never forget that night no..
We met in a back road
Behind the stage
She had the best figure by far
Huh a thousand hours Ive looked at her eyes but i
Still dont know what color they are
Me & your mum on the night
Oh lord. we met
I was on the road again
She was in c79
She was a junkie then
And I was having a good time
Back on the road again
Oh momma I was on the road again
Back in suite 79
Ill never never forget
Ill never forget that time
Back on the road again
Oh Im travelling that line
I was a pop star then
Im still having a good time

song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And In The House

And in the house
All is now silent
I rise and grope
In the dark, dark
And lo! Before me
A blue light I
A thin blue light
See I all a-shining
And leading me
And guiding me
Into the dark
In the long night
In to the long night!

Ah! father, father
Where are
You leading me:
The thin blue light
Now veers to here
And then to there
Now up
Now down
It plays:
And in the night
The long lone night
The seconds turn and turn!

And in the house
The lonely house
A soundless sound
Is humming:
The light
The thin blue light
Is leading still leading
And in the night
No time is passing

No hope of dawn
Or day
Is coming:
But dark
And dark:
Yet in the night
This night
Of black
A thrill felt I
And happiness
That never felt!

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deep Blue

When sunshine is not enough
To make me feel bright
Its got me suffering in the darkness
Thats so easy come by on the road-side
Of one loong life-time
Its got me deep blue
You know Im deep blue
When you stand there, watch tired bodies
Full of sickness and pain
To show you just how helpless you really are
When you get down to the truth
It hurts me
Its got me deep blue
You know Im deep blue
When I think of the life Im living
Pray God help me; give me your light
So I can love you and understand
This repetition that keeps me here
Feeling deep blue
Its got me deep blue
You know Im deep blue

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Road I Travel

With in my mind, I thought I knew
That I dare not travel back,
This road so dark, dim, and blue,

With trees, ever changing of truth.
This familiar path, so like a knack,
Within my mind. I thought I knew

The way down it and what I’ll do,
But all my thoughts seemed to lack
This road so dark, dim, and blue.

I tried to stray, to part from you,
With your spiteful cement, all black,
Within my mind. I thought I knew.

But I cannot, I won’t sort through
The sky of lies that make and crack
This road so dark, dim, and blue.

So vain, yet suddenly true.
To this place, I still travel back,
Within my mind. I thought I knew
This road so dark, dim, and blue.

poem by Sarah2 McMahon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Crow

Theres a crow flying
Black and ragged
Tree to tree
Hes black as the highway thats leading me
Now hes diving down
To pick up on something shiny
I feel like that black crow
Flying
In a blue sky
I took a ferry to the highway
Then I drove to a pontoon plane
I took a plane to a taxi
And a taxi to a train
Ive been traveling so long
Howm I ever going to know my home
When I see it again
Im like a black crow flying
In a blue, blue sky
In search of love and music
My whole life has been
Illumination
Corruption
And diving, diving, diving, diving.
Diving down to pick up on every shiny thing
Just like that black crow flying
In a blue sky
I looked at the morning
After being up all night
I looked at my haggard face in the bathroom light
I looked out the window
And I saw that ragged soul take flight
I saw a back crow flying
In a blue sky
Oh Im like a black crow flying
In a blue sky

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Gallop of Fire

When the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
And revels with harsh, hot sand,
I loose the horses, the wild red horses,
I loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
And terror is on the land.

With prophetic murmer the hills are humming,
The forest-kings bend and blow;
With hoofs of brass on the baked earth strumming,
O brave red horses, they hear us coming,
And the legions of death lean low.

O'er the wooded height, and the sandy hollow
Where the boles to the axe have rung,
Tho' they fly the foreman as flies the swallow,
The fierce red horses, my horses, follow
With flanks to the faint earth flung.

Or with frenzied hieroglyphs, fear embossing
Night's sable horizon bars,
Thro' tangled mazes of death-darts crossing,
I swing my leaders and watch them tossing
Their red manes against the stars.

But when South winds sob in the drowned creek courses
And whisper to hard wet sand,
I hold the horses, the spent red horses,
I hold the horses, the tired red horses,
And silence is on the land.

Yea, the South wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
For sorrows no man shall bind---
Ah, God! For the horses, the black plumed horses,
Dear God! For the horses, Death's own pale horses,
That raced in the tracks behind.

poem by Marie E J Pitt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Act of God?

A coin when dropped will
In one second, fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.

They were driving back from Sydney
Mum and Dad and their two kids
The freeway was a nightmare
So they took the old road that they did.

The old road’s quite an old road
Been there for many years
The rain was slanting sideways
Being late home was their fear.

It was night and many lights were out
The road was dark and quite awash
Water running everywhere
The kids shrieked with every splash.

A short drive now back to the warmth
Of the house in which they lived
A short drive back now to that home
Where they brought up both their kids.

Just two and three I think they were
A precious time of life
The kids strapped in the back seat
In the front was man and wife.

A dip there in the road appeared
Just where there is a creek
But we’ll be home soon they both said
Both kids were now asleep.

‘Slow down now, that’s deep water’
Said the man unto his wife
Those were the very final words
He would utter in his life.

One hundred feet, one hundred feet
One hundred feet or more
Was the depth of that great puddle
Into which the rain had poured.

It was at a place called Somersby
When the rain had drained away
That they winched up that death carriage
On the following grey day.

Yes, the chasm it was very deep
A Grand Canyon not a puddle
So for everyone upon that road
And every time you loved ones cuddle
Just think of those four driving home
And think of their full fright
And hold each other closely
Each and every single night
We should live for every minute
We should relish every hour
For simple stupid circumstance
Can destroy life’s fragile flower.

A coin when dropped will
In one second fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.

It was that deep.

I met the family's best friend in a local pub yesterday. He had just got back from identifying the bodies.

poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death of Dusk

The sun resigns,
bleeds out the vestiges –
remnants of the day.

Exsanguination edges into twilight:
red-brown hangs;
upwards darkens:
blue-brown,
blue-black,
death-black,
disquiet – furtive,
like ghoul-ridden fog.

A sombre moon assumes its role,
gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape –
a prequel of supernatural undertones
to chill the scene,
ice the spine,
kill the brain –

we have unnerved the very firmament.

But now a shadow closing down the globe:
dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze,
claims the late hour –
declared in a dying crow caw.

I, the hidden owl
– nemesis of claustrophobic minds –
awake! for mammal flesh –
fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death.
Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness
with my crooked night-tree,
emanating nocturnal allure.

Together we scowl
together we play the dark
upon the land and sky
and mind

while you lie as dead in your box.

dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking West

Anyone with quiet pace who
walks a gray road in the West
may hear a badger underground where
in deep flint another time is

Caught by flint and held forever,
the quiet pace of God stopped still.
Anyone who listens walks on
time that dogs him single file,

To mountains that are far from people,
the face of the land gone gray like flint.
Badgers dig their little lives there,
quiet-paced the land lies gaunt,

The railroad dies by a yellow depot,
town falls away toward a muddy creek.
Badger-gray the sod goes under
a river of wind, a hawk on a stick.

poem by William Stafford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Golden Tree

In the dark late night she appeared
A golden tree dancing
Before a sky of azure blue
Somewhat purple hued.

Her branches grew haphazardly
Playing hide and seek with cirrus clouds.
Inside she prayed for rain to shine upon her.

Through a kaleidoscope she could read the songs
Of her wounded soul,
Although the approaching dawn was blackening.

Electric blue were the eyes of midnight.
Mistrustful, they hid behind a wall of deceit
This golden tree danced in the early morning breeze,
As she shivered to ward away the fallen snow.

She wept for all of the hurt through which she lived.
When she read the world through that kaleidoscope,
There were none but scattered shards of broken glass

“Dance and dance”
All tell this golden tree,
For she shall grow when the sun rains upon her gilded heart.
She is loved, in all her lustrous glory.

Red birds of ardor,
Robins with their breasts of copper,
And the new moss that grows upon her fragile trunk
Shall arrive within a vessel christened “springtime.”

She reaches out with agile limbs
To trees with silver branches
Swaying to and fro,
Dropping leaves with veins of woven silk,
That wilt with each and every touch.

In the dim moonlight when the air is bittersweet
There appears a golden tree that dances,
Far from where the rippling creek is crawling over
Gemstones dampened by the rain.

Against a sky of azure blue
Touched with purple hues
A lithe, dancing golden tree can be found
In any place, time or realm,
She could be you or me-
Perhaps anyone’s wounded soul,
Where its world seen through a kaleidoscope
Is none but a shattered dream…

poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Shade

Floating on scent of a cut throat blue spruce.
A pillow of dust moves over my eyes.
My memory - it staggers, and then almost falls.
I was standing - remember? - next to a road,
hoping my thumb might stop the next car.
Brake lights go on,
pull over,
then stop.
The driver comes running.
It's a woman in blue.

Wow…
Now on my back
and looking down road,
and at the cows, and
the chickens.
It's farm country, you know.

poem by Rick Stokes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All I'm Thinkin' About

One, two, three, four
Blind man wavin' by the side of the road
In a flatbed Ford carryin' a heavy load
Sweet thing sipping on a blueberry wine
On a flat black highway down in Carolina
Black bird slipping in a sky of blue
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you, honey
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
There ain't nothing in this world I can do about it
All I'm thinkin' about is you
Little boy carryin' a fishing pole
Little girl pickin' huckleberries from off of the vine
Brown bag filled with a little green toad
We hook him through the the lip and throw him off with a line
A sweet pair of legs got me feelin' so blue
And all I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
There ain't nothing in this world I can do about it
All I'm thinkin' about is you
Black car shiny on a Sunday morn'
Mama go to church now
Mama go to church now
Friday night and Daddy's shirt is torn
Daddy's going downtown
Daddy's going downtown
Ain't no one understand the sweet thing you do
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
Ain't nothing in this world I can do about it
All I'm thinkin' about is you
Whoaaa
Field turned up, the seed is sowed
Rain comin' in from over across the road
Big black curtain comin' across the field
Blind will see and lame will be healed
Brown-eyed girl, turn my back on you
Now it's lonely
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
And all I'm thinkin' about is you
And all I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
There ain't nothing in this world take away these blues
All I'm thinkin' about is you
All I'm thinkin' about is you, baby
All I'm thinkin' about is you
Well baby, all I'm thinkin' about is you
Yeah all I'm thinkin' about is you
Ain't nothing in this world I can do about it
All I'm thinkin' about is you
Whoaaa

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where the Pelican Builds

The horses were ready, the rails were down,
   But the riders lingered still --
   One had a parting word to say,
   And one had his pipe to fill.
Then they mounted, one with a granted prayer,
   And one with a grief unguessed.
   "We are going," they said, as they rode away --
   "Where the pelican builds her nest!"

They had told us of pastures wide and green,
   To be sought past the sunset's glow;
   Of rifts in the ranges by opal lit;
   And gold 'neath the river's flow.
And thirst and hunger were banished words
   When they spoke of that unknown West;
   No drought they dreaded, no flood they feared,
   Where the pelican builds her nest!

The creek at the ford was but fetlock deep
   When we watched them crossing there;
   The rains have replenished it thrice since then,
   And thrice has the rock lain bare.
But the waters of Hope have flowed and fled,
   And never from blue hill's breast
   Come back -- by the sun and the sands devoured --
   Where the pelican builds her nest.

poem by Mary Hannay Foott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Further On

Where the road is dark
and the seat is soaked
where the gun is cocked
and the bullet's cold
where the miles are marked in blood and gold
I'll meet you further on up the road
Got on my dead man's suit
and my smilin' skull ring
my lucky graveyard boots
and a song to sing
I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
further on up the road
where the way is dark
and the night is cold
but one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Well I been out in the desert
was doin' my time
searching through the dust
looking for a sign
if there's a light up ahead
well, buddy, I don't know
but I got this fever
burning in my soul
so let's take the good times as they come
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
further on up the road
where the way is dark
and the night is cold
one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
yeah I'll meet you further on up the road
well I'll meet you further on up the road