Cave!
i lived in a cave
one time for weeks....
bathed in a creek,
built small fires,
watched them slowly
burn down...
and slept,
wrapped in primordial
stillness...
i always think of that
when i think of you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Kiss I Left
i love you.....
words seem hollow
after so much time...
time lived together,
two souls wrapped in one spirit...
two hearts that cannot beat
without the other...
train wrecks, stars collide,
and yet the light remains...
and the dust of worlds destroyed
forms the beginning again and again...
who are you without me?
who am i without you?
night cannot be without day....
this fire returns from ashes....
the simple brush of hands,
eyes meeting whisper
the secrets of cosmos......
wind softly blowing the shutter closed,
yet the window is always open!
the kiss i left on your eyelids
as you slept.... the smile
your dreaming left on my longing....
small indentions in the pillow....
the first fire in the ancient cave
that remains after time has gone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pyro Maniac
A pyro with a flame.
Just writing your name in the sand.
Time tics by and fire after fire does not end the desire.
It's passion.
It's love.
It's a child's laughter.
Nothing left untouched.
As he makes his mark.
Personal and distant.
He's lived it.
Through the the fires eyes.
He can't help it.
He just want to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
He speak to the eternal flame.
And she rise from the ashes.
Back again just the same.
Glowing so bright, so hot.
So appealing he can not ever turn away.
A obsession everyday.
No he doesn't care.
His mind is most certainly else where.
He can't help it
He just wants to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
As holy body it rises from the grave.
As a scientific miracle it saves.
Staving off the cold.
Turning something into nothing.
It's just so amazing.
Captivating.
A star studded glaze.
An everlasting stare into nowhere.
Exhilarating is the feeling he gets.
Ever single time.
He can't help it.
He just wants to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
He's a maniac.
No doubt it.
Completely reckless to t.
But its his divinity.
His saving grace.
His ace.
And he has a constant need to play it.
Even if someone dies.
He's not worried about it.
It off to the next.
He can't help it.
He just wants to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
Yeah just burn, burn, burn, oh burn.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Cave
Leave me alone it's nothing serious
I'll do it myself
It's got nothing to do with you
And there's nothing that you could do
You can see it and you can almost hear it too
You can almost taste it
It's nothing to do with you
And it's still nothing that you can do
So come in my cave
And I'll burn your heart away
Come in my cave
I'll burn your heart away
Please close your ears
And try to look away
So you never hear a single word I say
And don't ever come my way
Leave me alone
It's nothing serious
I'll do it myself
It's got nothing to do with you
And there's still nothing that you could do
So come in my cave
And I'll burn your heart away
Come in my cave
And arrest me for my mistakes
song performed by by Muse from Showbiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire
There are many things we call a fire.
The ones we light to keep us warm.
The fire that burns within our heart
whenever we fall in love.
There are the fires of passion
that ignite within our soul.
There fires can burn eternally
and we feel them everyday.
All the fires that burn around and within us,
burn throughout all the days of our lives.
12 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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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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8 Weeks
8 weeks to live
8 weeks to die
8 weeks is all they had
8 weeks to do the things they never did
8 weeks of fighting
8 weeks of trying to fit everything in
8 weeks of pain, suffering, and confusion
8 weeks of faking a smile
8 weeks of repetition
8 weeks of knowing they were nearing the end
8 weeks of love from friends and family
8 weeks…the shortest/longest, most hurtful/helpful weeks of their lives
8 weeks later…knowing they’ll never be able to do the things they’ve always wanted to
8 weeks later…now realizing he’ll never see her walk, at graduation nor down the aisle
8 weeks later…close friends and family now in shambles
8 weeks later…close friends and family never closer
8 weeks later…here we are
poem by Anthony Martello
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There were periods when I sometimes made fires in a large, open fireplace that lasted about two weeks, which was how long it took to burn my compositions. So there has been an awful lot that I have destroyed.
quote by Alan Hovhaness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In every thing
In every rock, mineral, sand, wild animal, flower and tree
There’s a urge to be free, planted in from primordial times
Under the earth’s crust in granite, basalt, any instance
there’s a build in resistance, from primordial times.
In drops in any water stream
you cannot bridle the inert scream, from primordial times.
to be part of the clouds, the sea, to them to draw near
without any confinement or fear, from primordial times
Every antelope, bird of prey or wild animal
every lion, tiger and mammal, seeks liberty form primordial times.
in grass, the restless wind that blows wild
there are hope and trust like that of a child, from primordial times
Strydom, to where do you want to flee,
for a free existence? You are planted in this country from primordial times.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Boulder To Birmingham
I dont want to hear a love song
I got on this airplane just to fly
I know theres life below me
And all that you can show me is the prairie and the sky
I dont want to hear a sad story filled with hearbreak and desire
The last time I felt like this
I was in the wilderness and the canyon was on fire
And I stood on the mountain in the night
And I watched it burn, I watched it burn, I watched it burn
Chorus:
I would rock my soul in the bosom of abraham
I would hold my life in a saving grace
I would walk all the way from boulder to birmingham
If I thought I could see, see your face
Well you really got me this time
And the hardest part is knowing I survive
And Ive come to listen to the sounds of trucks
As they moved out on highway 95
And pretending its the ocean coming to wash me clear
To wash me clear if you know what I mean
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunken Treasure
There's rows and rows of house, with windows painted blue.
With the light from the t.v. running parallel to you.
But there is no sunken treasure, rumored to be.
Wrapped inside my ribs in a sea black with ink.
I am so out of tune with you, I am so our of tune with you.
If I had a mountain, I'd try to fold it over.
If I had a boat (or bone), you know I'd probably roll over.
And I leave it on the shore, I'd leave it for somebody.
Surely there's somebody who needs it more than me.
I am so out of tune with you, I am so our of tune with you.
All the leaves will burn and autumn fires then return.
All the fires we burn, all will return.
Music is my savior, and I was maimed by rock and roll.
I was maimed by rock and roll.
I was tamed by rock and roll.
I got my name from rock and roll
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I guess of all my uncles, I liked Uncle Cave Man the best. We called him Uncle Cave Man because he lived in a cave and because sometimes he'd eat one of us. Later on we found out he was a bear.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boulder To Birmingham
(danoff / harris)
I dont wanna hear your love song
I got on this aeroplane just to fly
And I know theres life below me
But all that you can show me
Is the prairie and the sky
And I dont wanna hear a sad story
Full of heartbreak and desire
The last time I felt like this
I was in the wilderness
And the canyon was on fire
And I stood on the mountain
In the night and I watched it burn
I watched it burn, I watched it burn
I would rock my soul
In the bosom of abraham
I would hold my life
In his saving grace
I would walk all the way
From boulder to birmingham
If I thought I could see
I could see your face
Well, you really got me this time
And the hardest part is knowin
Ill survive
Ive come to listen for the sound
Of the trucks as they go down
Out on ninety-five
And pretend that its the ocean
Comin down to wash me clean
To wash me clean
Baby do ya know what I mean
Chorus x3
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am (Desire)
i am, become...
i am the stillness of the mountains,
and the whisperings of the grasses.
i am the kiss of the river,
running o'er stones and dirt.
i am the magnificent eagle,
but no less the sparrow...
i am the wind that weeps
for the land of the free!
i am concrete and glass,
the great cities you built.
i am factories and mills,
i am trucks hauling freight.
i am rows of corn,
your tractor, your mule.
i am brick houses built,
row upon row...
i am breasts and hands,
i am lips and legs wrapped.
i am sweetness and wetness,
i am heat and the moan..
i am the cave of desire,
the ride long, deep, and hard.
i am the dance of the lovers
in the great room of darkness.
i am children taught by lamplight,
books written by the candle.
i am integrity and dignity
handed down from generation to generation.
i am discernment and questioning,
and the prayers of all traditions.
i am the hope that listens,
hears, and cares....
i am the magic belief
that awaits the star,
and the birth...
the faith that demands
that living goes on...
i am all that you are
given without holding back...
i am tomorrow believing in today!
i am, i dance, i make love, i sing...
i am America's desire,
i am, become....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It’s dark in here
While I am walking
inside a cave,
it's rather dark in here
I wonder how people
could have lived in this place
and in my mind’s eye
I see them gathering
around hot fires
with bright red and yellow flames
leaping into the air
and blown higher by the slight draft.
They must have fried
some of the antelope
sketched in yellow, red, brown
and black on the wall
and although the stalagmites
and stalactites on the floor
of the cave are rather beautiful
there’s a chill in the air.
Without light I cannot see
were to go
and in ancient times
bats must have nested
against the roof
and somehow people
made this dark place
their home
and still it’s dark in here.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Small Glimpses Of Holiness
i can remember being a kid,
and going to church on Sunday....
can remember the way the sunlight
danced through the stained glass
windows, the smell of the old
hymnals, the way the hard bench
hurt my back....
can remember singing the old hymns...
(sometimes they come to me
in my sleep....)
but i cant remember any particular sermon!
it's funny what we equate with God,
and holiness... and what we dont!
just as easy i can remember being alone
in the woods, watching sunlight pour
through the pines, listening to the gurgling
of the creek.... and the way the earth felt
beneath my bare feet.....
or the first time i ever made love
to a girl... in the front seat of an
old Rambler.... moonlight sifting through
the trees... and the barking of a dog.
or sleeping in a cave, on the run, and the
damp darkness like a womb enveloping
me... with only the sound of a nearby
waterfall piercing the stillness....
or standing by my mother's grave...
watching a part of myself go back
to the dust...
or the sound of my children's voices
when they just needed assurance....
small glimpses of holiness drifting
through an old man's mind... on the way
back home.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Borne By The Wind
what if i made you a pair of shoes,
from the soles of these tired feet?
and gave you a lantern,
lit by the fire in these eyes...
would you walk naked in the darkness
down the path past the creek,
to the small clearing where stillness waits?
would you sit neath the tree,
bent with time like me?
would you eat from the bowl,
made of the hollow of my heart?
would you close your eyes and listen,
with the ears of my soul?
till you hear the name that god whispers,
borne by the wind of this love....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fires Of Our Dreams
In the fires of our dreams,
we burn our desires away.
Among the ashes that we scatter
old and distant loves lay.
In the warmth of the raptures,
we hold our youth’s accolade
clinging to forgotten pleasures
we once used to seek.
We erase the traces
of conquests we wish we made
with removal of errant faces
from the corners of our mind.
We scatter them to the four winds
for now and all time
in the fires of our dreams,
we burn our desires away.
15 August 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust Now all that's left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.
quote by Alekandr Sergeyevick Pushkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fifty Eight Years
fifty eight years,
step after step...
pathways of stone,
of water, of wind...
no footprints behind.
small fires on dark nights,
waves of stillness opening...
the eyes of the breathing surround.
touch! touch!
echoing against the roar.
words sealed on paper
for future fires!
when scars become gifts
left on strangers' doorsteps...
for there are no strangers,
soul unto soul.
step after step,
rain falling softly.
smoke from the chimney,
hangs like a prayer.
face to face,
lips touching lips,
a small bag of dreams
left under a child's pillow.
fifty eight years.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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