Cool Tombs
When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs he forgot
the copperheads and the assassin . . . in the dust, in the
cool tombs.
And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street,
cash and collateral turned ashes . . . in the dust, in the
cool tombs.
Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in
November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder? does she
remember? . . . in the dust, in the cool tombs?
Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries,
cheering a hero or throwing confetti and blowing tin
horns . . . tell me if the lovers are losers . . . tell me if any
get more than the lovers . . . in the dust . . . in the cool
tombs.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Related quotes
My Days
My days are but the tombs of buried hours ;
Which tombs are hidden in the piled years ;
But from the mounds there spring up many flowers,
Whose beauty well repays their cost of tears.
Time, like a sexton, pileth mould on mould,
Minutes on minutes till the tombs are high ;
But from the dust there fall some grains of gold,
And the dead corpse leaves what will never die-
It may be but a thought, the nursling seed
Of many thoughts, of many a high desire ;
Some little act that stirs a noble deed,
Like breath rekindling a smouldering fire :
They only live who have not lived in vain,
For in their works their life returns again.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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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 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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Our Mother Pocahontas
(Note: — Pocahontas is buried at Gravesend, England.)
"Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in November or a pawpaw in May — did she wonder? does she remember — in the dust — in the cool tombs?"
CARL SANDBURG.
I
Powhatan was conqueror,
Powhatan was emperor.
He was akin to wolf and bee,
Brother of the hickory tree.
Son of the red lightning stroke
And the lightning-shivered oak.
His panther-grace bloomed in the maid
Who laughed among the winds and played
In excellence of savage pride,
Wooing the forest, open-eyed,
In the springtime,
In Virginia,
Our Mother, Pocahontas.
Her skin was rosy copper-red.
And high she held her beauteous head.
Her step was like a rustling leaf:
Her heart a nest, untouched of grief.
She dreamed of sons like Powhatan,
And through her blood the lightning ran.
Love-cries with the birds she sung,
Birdlike
In the grape-vine swung.
The Forest, arching low and wide
Gloried in its Indian bride.
Rolfe, that dim adventurer
Had not come a courtier.
John Rolfe is not our ancestor.
We rise from out the soul of her
Held in native wonderland,
While the sun's rays kissed her hand,
In the springtime,
In Virginia,
Our Mother, Pocahontas.
II
She heard the forest talking,
Across the sea came walking,
And traced the paths of Daniel Boone,
Then westward chased the painted moon.
She passed with wild young feet
On to Kansas wheat,
On to the miners' west,
The echoing cañons' guest,
Then the Pacific sand,
Waking,
Thrilling,
The midnight land....
On Adams street and Jefferson —
Flames coming up from the ground!
On Jackson street and Washington —
Flames coming up from the ground!
And why, until the dawning sun
Are flames coming up from the ground?
Because, through drowsy Springfield sped
This red-skin queen, with feathered head,
With winds and stars, that pay her court
And leaping beasts, that make her sport;
Because, gray Europe's rags august
She tramples in the dust;
Because we are her fields of corn;
Because our fires are all reborn
From her bosom's deathless embers,
Flaming
As she remembers
The springtime
And Virginia,
Our Mother, Pocahontas.
III
We here renounce our Saxon blood.
Tomorrow's hopes, an April flood
Come roaring in. The newest race
Is born of her resilient grace.
We here renounce our Teuton pride:
Our Norse and Slavic boasts have died:
Italian dreams are swept away,
And Celtic feuds are lost today....
She sings of lilacs, maples, wheat,
Her own soil sings beneath her feet,
Of springtime
And Virginia,
Our Mother, Pocahontas.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Windsor Poetics : Lines Composed On The Occasion Of His Royal Highness The Prince Regent Being Seen Standing Between The Coffins Of Henry VIII And Charles I, In The Royal Vault At Windsor
Famed for contemptuous breach of sacred ties,
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies;
Between them stands another sceptred thing--
It moves, it reigns--in all but name, a king:
Charles to his people, Henry to his wife,
- In him the double tyrant starts to life:
Justice and death have mix'd their dust in vain,
Each royal vampire wakes to life again.
Ah, what can tombs avail!--since these disgorge
The blood and dust of both--to mould a George.
Liberty and peace
One section fights for liberty;
The other put down it for peace.
Both sections add their tombs further.
The tombs need no liberty, nor peace.
26.11.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Cool Touch
Writers: leo sayer & alan tarney
Hanging out with the nighttime clientele
Place your ladder for the social climb
Same old routine that you know so well
Another opening and another line
Its the cool touch
Yeah the cool touch
Call your lover on the mobile phone
Cmon over well have some fun
Leave a message sayin theres no one home
I guess the good times just begun
Its the cool touch
Yeah the cool touch
Cool touch--too much--its too muich
Too much--cool touch--or not enough
Cool touch--too much--too much
Too much--cool touch--its not enough
Take me take me to the sky above
Fool me fool me with your words of love
Cool touch--too much
Now shes reclined in the back of the sports car
Champagne and glasses he slips right in
No passing stranger couldve torn them two apart
Some games you play and you just cant help but win
The cool touch
Yeah the cool touch
Cool touch--too much--its too much
Too much--cool touch--its not enough
Take me take me to the sky above
Fool me fool me with these words of love
Cool touch--too much
A wind is blowing through this get rich town
She wraps the fur round her pretty waist
He feels a shiver as he grips the wheel
Feeling strangely out of place
Bring me bring someone I can trust
All this glitters just a bag of dust
Cool touch--too much--its too much
Too much--cool touch--its not enough
I had enough of this cool touch
Kids stuff
But I cant get enough
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Never Really Took What I’d Found
The layers of dust I left
Before the first morn birth
Think to dance even upon the tombs
Was a call of the cradle
Cast the dirge into echoes
To swell with laughter clouds
To the point of no return
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Cool Cat
The cool cat,
is just standing there.
The cool cat,
doesn't even glare.
The cool cat,
thinks he's so hot.
The cool cat,
doesn't give a snot.
The cool cat,
doesn't listen in class.
The cool cat,
thinks his better than the rest.
The cool cat,
really has no friends.
The cool cat,
smokes after school.
The cool cat,
left his family.
The cool cat,
is a player.
The cool cat,
has no prayers.
The cool cat,
has no savers.
The cool cat,
is one tough dude.
But really....
The cool cat,
is one big fool.
poem by Jasmine Aira
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The Compass.
Angels from Light,
Satan from Fire,
Man from Dust,
Man turns Dust!
Light has no pith,
No marrow in Fire,
Dust has a core;
Hot, cool and pure.
Many a Dimensions,
Millions of Hues,
Moods, Thoughts,
Passions and Emotions,
Only dust has it all.
No Origin, No End,
Still has a Mass;
‘Soul' we call the Compass.
poem by Tajudeen Shah
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19-2000
The world is spinning too fast
I'm buying lead Nike shoes
To keep myself tethered
To the days I try to lose
My mama said to slow down
You should make your shoes
Stop dancing to the music
Of Gorillaz in a happy mood
Keep a mild groove on
Ba ba ba
Day dee bop
There you go!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
There's a monkey in the jungle
Watching a vapour trail
Caught up in the conflict
Between his brain and his tail
And if time's elimination
Then we got nothing to lose
Please repeat the message
It's the music that we choose
Keep a mild groove on
Ba ba ba
Day dee bop
OK bring it down yeah we gonna break out
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Get the cool!
Get the cool shoeshine!
Ah Ah Ah Ah
Day doo de bop
song performed by by Gorillaz from Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out Of Darkness
Darkness, end, den, ark, dark, Ken, near, ear, seas, snare, sand, sears;
But the streets are full of bombs! !
And the poeple are consumed in the graveyard of tombs.
Darkness, era, dear, read, dad, red, and, an, sake, naked, Dan, send, dress;
I came out of my mother's womb into the world with peace,
But you pressed your thumb on the bomb to kill many! !
And the graveyards are ow full of tombs,
But when will a light come out of this darkness?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Real Cool World
So far this love is delightful
The face of seduction was you
But I listened for each and every footstep
In this real cool world
Questioning saintlike and fantastic heroes
Feeling like lost little children in fabled lands
So I listen for each and every friendship
In this real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
Starry-eyed life but somehow believing in nothing
You whisper sweet nothing but reading between your lines
I listen color me doubtful
In this real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
You came from nowhere
You came from nowhere
You held me you shook me
Hey
Its a cool world
Its a cool world
Its a real cool world
Its a real cool world
Its a real cool world
Its a real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
Mmmm
Real cool world
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cool
It's hard to remember how it felt before
Now I found the love of my life
Passes things, get more comfortable
Everything is going right
And after all the obstacles
It's good to see you now with someone else
And it's such a miracle that you and me are still good friends
After all that we've been through
I know we're cool
I know we're cool
We used to think it was impossible
Now you call me by my new last name
Memories seem like so long ago
Time always kills the pain
Remember Harbor Boulevard
The dreaming days where the mess was made
Look how all the kids have grown, oh
We have changed but we're still the same
After all that we've been through
I know we're cool
I know we're cool
Yeah, I know we're cool
And I'll be happy for you
If you can be happy for me
Circles and triangles
And now we're hanging out with your new girlfriend
So far from where we've been
I know we're cool
I know we're cool
C-cool, I know we're cool
I know we're cool
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn 6
Triumph over death.
Job 19:25-27.
Great God, I own thy sentence just,
And nature must decay;
I yield my body to the dust,
To dwell with fellow clay.
Yet faith may triumph o'er the grave,
And trample on the tombs
My Jesus, my Redeemer, lives;
My God, my Savior, comes.
The mighty Conqueror shall appear
High on a royal seat,
And death, the last of all his foes,
Lie vanquished at his feet.
Though greedy worms devour my skin,
And gnaw my wasting flesh,
When God shall build my bones again,
He clothes them all afresh.
Then shall I see thy lovely face
With strong immortal eyes;
And feast upon thy unknown grace
With pleasure and surprise.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Nightfall In The Rose-Garden
Ashes to ashes,
Meal to roots of roses:
One-way street in petals falling,
Dust to dust.
The lowering sun sucks
From blown blossoms,
Their colours that go
At last to dust.
Death is in the seed
Bud, root and leaf
Which have no choice
But dust.
From death to death,
The cycle onward blindly
Rolls its endless way
From dust to death.
I, in the falling dusk
Go slowly blind to all.
And shall too, eventually,
Be dust.
poem by Roy William Gotaas
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A Poem For My Country
Beijing is fine
the summer palace is cool
the tombs and temples are dignified and
mysterious and for the whole
of china and its people and
lakes and moats
and trees and gardens
i am mystified but
back home
then where my heart sings
The Philippines is still
my own home for it is here
where my heart is
beating
where my soul
is at peace
and true to my own
patriotism
there is no other place
that i love
this Philippines, this country
that welcomes me
wherever i was
lost.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sirphan
The shadow,
Your muse,
Your love;
To be born from many wombs and to use various combs,
But the bombs came falling on us!
And most of us are now buried in the tombs.
A shadow,
Your works,
Your words;
Wombs, combs, bombs, tombs! !
The forum,
The temples,
The colossus,
The catacombs;
But the baths were made for your use,
So, make yourselves clean before the laws! !
And like the muse of Sirphan my friend.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What Are We?
WHAT ARE WE?
What are we?
Dust of the earth
Dust of the stars
Thinking dust
Dreaming dust
Loving dust
Dust of Dust
God’s Dust
What are we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Mortality
Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust,
What of his loving, what of his lust?
What of his passion, what of his pain?
What of his poverty, what of his pride?
Earth, the great mother, has called him again:
Deeply he sleeps, the world's verdict defied.
Shall he be tried again? Shall he go free?
Who shall the court convene? Where shall it be?
No answer on the land, none from the sea.
Only we know that as he did, we must:
You with your theories, you with your trust,--
Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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