Have You Ever Walked Alone?
There he lies ... gargantuan giant sleeping
Hiding from the memories that keep him casting a circle of sadness around his bed,
The restless dead are waking as
The child within his form relives the touch cold ice marble of his fathers corpse
Dressed in Sunday best - there to lay the dead to rest
The people of the town are gathered - memories wavering
Each soul recalling their love for a man his child had never known.
How can he speak o those that surround him?
To those that call him friend yet would have him die for the sins of the world.
Have you ever walked alone?
Have you ever known desert heat burn blisters on your feet?
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Chinese Cemetery
smoke trails the sky
over the cemetery
hell money burns
casting a misty layer
between this world
and the next
but not its reality
even after death
you need money
they reckon
stacks and stacks
they burn
every stack twenty million
everyone wants
their late next of kin
to be billionaires
to be rich
of course they wish
in turn they would
be made rich too
through their proxies
in the next world
at funeral they would
even burn paper mercedes
rolls royce, bungalows
computer, washing
machine, television set
well you name it
they have it
for the departed
need them like
they were still alive
they had buried
their dead but never
their memories
they trail the smoke
to the hearts of
the departed
a thin line between
this world and the next
after the visit,
they would go back
to wait for dreams
in case they have
done things not correct
for the hereafter
here among the old
and new graves
the tended as well
as the less tended
it takes only a little plastic
bag to send ripples
of sadness in the
lake of my heart
a little bag that leans
onto the base of
a gravestone
like a child in the bossom
of a granny
holding so much love
with its groundniuts,
chinese olives and sweets
the little bag carries
so much of affections
this world and the next
it bursts the seams
of my emphathies for
perhaps one little child
who has promised to
be back at granny's side
every year
i could almost hear
a child sob; 'Granny,
take care, I will be back
the next all souls.'
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Paz Ratna's Spell
Memories, memories
Where are they hiding among memories?
It’s too sweet, it’s so bitter
I can reach you wherever you are
Memories, memories
Where are you hiding among memories?
You can’t change your past
But I can change your memories
Memories, memories
Where are they hiding among memories?
Give me your live
And I'll give you memories
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Dead......Insides
Dead......insides
Dead, no mores alives
insides
One day the water
will wash the dead away
on the inside
The dead feelings, memories, and all
The names dead inside me
Leaving a white hot desert
Burning to the core
Where the bones are bleached
dead white. White hot heat and nothing more
poem by Midnights Voice
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Wake Not My Sleeping Child
Wake not my sleeping child
This world awaits not thy vision,
Talk not my sleeping child
This world listens to no one,
Move not my sleeping child
This world senses every vibration!
Think not my sleeping child
This world is void of thoughts.
Live not my sleeping child,
This world offers nothing but death!
Lie in my arms in perfect numbness…
This world will spare you its camaraderie!
poem by Anuradha Datta
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I'll Sleep When I Am Dead
J. Bon Jovi, R. Sambora, D. Child)
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
Don't need no Mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I don't like to sleep no
I won't lie to you
I'm necer gonna cry to you
I'll probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until I'm 6 feet under
Baby I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
So you're looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
'cause I was built for speed
This ain't no slumber party
Got no time for catching z's
If they say that that ain't healthy
Well then living's a disease
We're never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
We'll make every night another New Year's Eve
Till I'm six feet under
I won't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive,
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Seven days of Saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasn't born to die
But if they party down in heaven
I'll be sure to be on time
Until I'm six feet under
I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I feel like I'm exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till I'm six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories
Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories
Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories
Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories
Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories
Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours
Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too
Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories
poem by Adam McKim
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Disco Down
Ive been thinking reminiscing
bout the days when we were wishing
We could fly and touch the sky
Laughing meeting under cover
Running hiding from your mother
Lf we tried we could do anything
And when the dj came to town
People came from all around
Baby l still recall those things
And ooh, Im missing you now
Im missing you now
And you turned my world around
When you bumed this disco down
Whyd you leave to find yourself
I cant dance with no-one else
And still theres memories of this town
When you bumed this disco down
Its been ten years now this sunday
Since you left or was it monday
Time can fly when youre still in love
And now l boogie in my dreams
To le freak or dancing queen
Baby l still recall those things
And ooh, Im missing you now
Im missing you now
And you turned my world around
When you burned this disco down
Whyd you leave to find yourself
I cant dance with no-one else
And still theres memories of this town
When you burned this disco down
And oh, now the dance has died for sure
Since your love aint here no more
Still l wonder where you are
Ill always wonder where you are
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mother's Heart
Numb with feelings on the loss of her child
A mother, she stood with a bleeding heart
Tears of sadness that struck her being
for this beautiful mother with love she wept
Recalling memories of her only son
was a child that chose the best mother for him
His learnings on earth has come to an end
Leaving his mother to cope, without him
Her heart that aches with constant pain
Mother I am okay, for I am resting now
A time will come for us to meet
So mother please, “do not weep”.
poem by Noreen Fonseca
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Holding on to Memories
Memories young, memories old,
Memories take away the cold.
They warm my heart and my soul
even though some take their toll.
There's a price to be paid in the end
but memories are my closest friend.
Some so happy, some so sad
and all of them I'm glad I've had.
For I am taking a bolder leap,
still holding on to memories I keep.
I look on them and make a vow
to keep them close here and now.
For what is life without these things?
empty hours that boredom brings.
I'll make new memories every day
and know that I'll be able to say
I remember.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Sunday's Child
Sunday's child is always praying
for the right thing to come
what she can't see, is the truth
inside of her
not something else
Sunday's child is always praying
for someone else to come
what she can't see, is the source
inside of her
not somebody else
How do you contemplate outside yourself
when you are infinite?
Can't you see, come full circle child,
you are it!
Two hands clapping make one sound
where does that come from?
There's no one around
except, Sunday's child
Amen.
Copyright ©2004
poem by Adryan Rotica
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Aaron
Holiness on the head,
Light and perfection on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To led them unto life and rest.
Thus are true Aarons dressed.
Profaneness in my head,
Defects and darkness in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest.
Poor priest thus am I dressed.
Only another head
I have, another heart and breast,
another music, making live not dead,
without whom I could have no rest:
In him I am well dressed.
Christ is my only head,
My alone only heart and breast,
My only music, striking me even dead;
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in him new dressed.
So holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my dear breast,
My doctrine tuned by Christ, (who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest)
Come people; Aaron's dressed.
poem by George Herbert
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Grassroots
wars are rushed to conclusion to stay the people
where war's tragedy struggles not to be fools dance large among the miniatures
and call for peace
the beggar patiently suns in the light of those who once basked in their own
the circle tightens
boys are told they were born to the murder their fathers to take their mothers
become restless lovers
good soldiers
duck children duck and cover this could save your life one day
in this country by god we learn to read from left to right
you there in the back row
yes you
get your hand out of there
this very instant
a tiger enters a hut drags off a child to feed her litter
a man enters into a marriage agreement drags a child off to his bed
the tiger hunted down and killed
evenings without it
the last embrace shadow come to bury its dead
poem by Paul Bamberger
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Retrieved Poetry
Poetry is dead,
Some would say.
But the inspiration that befell the poet,
But the gods that cursed the poet
Would never allow him grow weary.
It keeps pouring out like morning dew
From sundown to cock crow.
Poetry is dead,
Some would say.
Those would get paid
That wishes it out of this world.
Judgement day, the pay day, even today
,
Memories linger of what the gods inspired.
Only poetry has survived a worldwide flood.
Poetry is dead,
Some have said.
But the inspiration keeps coming,
But the memory keeps living.
Poetry lives on even when the world is dead;
It dies only if it is not poetry
And there is only a good few poetry.
Poetry is dead,
Some have said.
Until we start seeing poetry as poetry
And nothing more, until that day,
Until we start thinking he is inspired,
Until we stop thinking for the poet;
He is possessed he is innocent.
Poetry is dead,
So goes the argument.
Even as we cut from the same tree,
Even as we speak same universal language,
You cannot cut deep if your axe's blunt.
We can never speak from same mouth.
You can only say your own thought.
Poetry is dead,
So goes the argument,
If poetry is dead killed by death,
If poetry is dead swallowed by death,
The corpse should be in our front.
We should know how to bury it.
We should dig not cover it with dust.
Poetry is dead,
If poetry is really dead,
There is cause to weep bitterly,
There is cause to think deeply
For the world has been stripped naked.
For poetry is great, ageless, timeless, bottomless
At the burial we must remain emotionless.
poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
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Mercyful Fate (live)
Satan's Fall
They're walking by the night
The moon has frozen blue
Long black coats a shelter for the rain
Their load must get through
Now bats are leaving their trees
They're joining the call
Seven satanic Hell preachers
Heading for the hall
Bringing the blood of a newborn child
Got to succeed if not it's Satan's fall
Curse Of The Pharaohs
Away out in Egypt in the valley of kings
Where the mummified pharaohs
Pretend dead in their sleep
Don't touch, never ever steal
Unless you're in for the kill
Or you'll be hit by the curse of the pharaohs
Yes you'll be hit and the curse is on you
The curse of the pharaohs can be so deadly
Just destroying your future
Makin' it all shady
Don't touch, never ever steal
Unless you're in for the kill
Or you'll be hit by the curse of the pharaohs
Yes you'll be hit and the curse is on you
A Corpse Without Soul
Listen, I'm a corpse, I'm a corpse
I'm a corpse without soul
Satan, he's taken, he's taken
He's taken his toll
And he took it on me
I, I'm trapped, I'm trapped
I'm trapped in his spell
Tonight, I'm going, I'm going
I'm going to Hell, inside his spell
Into The Coven
Howl like a wolf
And a witch will open the door
Follow me and meet our high priestess
Come, come into my coven
And become Lucifer's child
Undress until you're naked
And put on this white coat
Take this white cross and go to the center of the ring
Come, come into my coven
And become Lucifer's child
Evil
I was born on the cemetery
Under the sign of the moon
Raised from my grave by the dead
And I was made a mercenary
In the legions of Hell
Now I'm king of pain, I'm insane
You know my only pleasure
Is to hear you cry
I'd love to hear you cry
I'd love to see you die
And I'll be the first
To watch your funeral
And I'll be the last to leave
I'd love to hear you cry
And when you're down beyond the ground
I'll dig up your body again
And make love to shame
Oh lady cry, and say goodbye
Oh lady cry, and say goodbye
You've gotta say goodbye
'Cause I will eat your mind
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Carry You
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
If I can walk on water
And calm a restless sea
I've done a thousand things you've never done
And I'm weary watchin'
While you struggle on your own
Call my name, I'll come
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
I give vision to the blind
And I can raise the dead
I've seen the darker side of Hell
And I returned
And I see these sleepless nights
And I count every tear you cry
I know some lessons hurt to learn
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you, my child
I see these sleepless nights
And I count every tear you cry
And call my name, I'll come runnin'
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over The Dead Body
Don’t fight over the dead body
Grudge and ego of people left behind
Could raise the worst world war
Don’t scared over the dead body
Silence and stillness of living human
Is more frightening than the ghost
Don’t keep mourning over the dead body
Sadness and lost of the one we love
Will be replaced by forever peace
Don’t worship over the dead body
Dreams could only be real and achieved
If we open our eyes to the world
Don’t disrespect over the dead body
It once belonged to precious life
Though the evidence corpse severely decayed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bullets And Kisses
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
Heat seeking missile are only sent destroy.
Man less drones are deployed.
Books to a religion burned.
Peace will be destroyed.
It is impossible to avoid.
Unrest on steroids.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
You want to trust and be trusted.
But you have no understanding of a culture.
You disrespect it everyday.
You create martyrs by your mistakes.
With every action you make it just escalates.
Fear spreads like fire in a very drought ridden forest.
Let me ask you how do you plan on exactly putting out?
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
You must get out.
It was never your responsibility.
We are not the divinity.
We are not here to save you.
With so much blood on our hands how can we still be wearing that cape?
Do we not understand what is at stake?
We just continue to create pure hate.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
Greed is why we are sending our soldiers away from home.
Controlling chaos.
A symphony of stealing while their not looking.
If we are their long enough soon or later we will corrupt.
And that´s just little messed up.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
Slavery can be bought and sold.
Back door deals.
A fake government at least thats the way the people feel.
And are they really that off target?
After all they are the are people.
A pulse beating, breathing life into their own country.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten...,
Yes they are already dead, stale, and rotten.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Memories On A Park Bench
He sat on a park bench
just to pass the time away
when he saw her there
from the corner of his eye.
She was older now,
but her beauty had not faded.
She turned in his direction
and he smiled at her.
At first, she looked at him strangely
until there was recognition.
She smiled back
and then joined him.
They sat there on the park bench
the sun smiling down on them
as the daffodils swayed in the breeze.
For both of them came a flood
of memories of when they were young
before the world spirited them away.
Both had walked down many roads,
had some hard knocks along the way.
Both recalled them now
the way old friends meeting do.
As they sat there
recalling memories from happier days.
All too soon they would be parting
and as they would go,
they would take with them
a little of each other
in the form of memories
that they acquired on a park bench.
5 April 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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