Defiance Of Meaning.
The fighting has died off once again,
They slump amid the mud
Wondering if their 'war effort' will be in vain,
Whilst staring at a recent victim's face covered in blood.
Witnessing comrades fall and die,
Some must of asked why?
In these fields of death, If there is any room for love and care?
Now that the festive season is kind of in the air.
Then the 'Jerries' started to erect Christmas trees and many a lantern light,
Then started singing 'Silent Night'.
To the 'Tommies' it was a pleasant sound and different sight,
Even more so on that smoke filled night.
They respond likewise,
With Christmas carols that fill the skies.
Before long, batches of each entrenched side would be singing along,
Together in the next 'chosen' song.
One side would sing and the other would be cheering and clapping,
There seemed no stopping.
Shouts of 'friendship' ring out from from both opposing lines,
Each side making 'come over' signs.
Slowly but surely, men from both each side emerge from their part of each trench,
Out from their corridors of hell, from the blood and mud filled stench.
Uneasily men with different shades of uniforms walk towards 'no man's land',
Both sides reaching out to hug and shake the nearest 'foes' hand.
Hugging and exchanging of cigarettes, chocolate, pictures, stories, jokes and seasonal cheer,
The thought of getting killed by one another is was no longer a fear.
A game of football breaks out, only 'opposing' teams,
No one died, no blown to smithereens!
Only a few hours before, they were trying to wipe out each other,
But now it was love thy brother.
It seemed like a dream, it didn't make sense.
Mortal enemies, with no need for defence.
However like most good things it come to an end,
The enemy friend is no longer a friend.
Cannon fire ends their game of football,
Both sides obey own high command call.
Every one scrambles their respective ways across the crater filled pitch,
Returning to their 'normal days' back to a watery ditch.
So back to shooting the heads off short-lived friends,
Until the next night descends.
The politicians and generals said, 'There's no room for good will in the carnage of war, '
Some one on that front line must of felt, why the hell not for?
If ever in history of mankind, there was a much needed pause,
It must have been needed in the 'great war', the so called war to 'end all wars'!
That unusual pause in that senseless cause,
Must be remembered by us all.
Now and for ever, and the next time we have to answer our country's call.
But especially by the 'war hawks, '
To remind them that there is some times 'room' for talks.
That interval of 'unofficial peace' showed past, present and future generations can be understood,
without the spilling of his blood!
DEC' 1984
poem by Guy Lipmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Generally speaking
The guns fall silent and the dead
lie quietly they’ve played their part.
The night hour’s pass heavy with dread
at first light the big guns will start.
The sound of the artillery
will fill the silent skies again.
Eroding further bravery
of the war weary fighting men.
The brave young men on either side
are doomed to die face down in mud.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
Their dug outs do but little good.
A shell burst may not kill just maim
The lucky ones are those who die,
they are the winners in this game
when thick and fast the bullets fly.
Opposing sides move to and fro
to capture trenches they’ve just left.
For no good reason that they know
obeying orders quite bereft
of any sign of sanity.
The generals are safe behind the lines
Unlike the vast majority
who fight to fulfil their designs.
Lions by donkeys badly led
Young men by the thousand died.
A foreign field their final bed
because good sense was not applied.
In Flanders fields the poppies grow.
The soil enriched by their hearts blood
What have we learnt we did not know?
Nobody won Nobody could.
There are no winners none at all
except perhaps the carrion crows
They dine well when the soldiers fall
as mighty nations come to blows.
Survivors return home broken men
with small support and little praise.
Until they’re needed once again
when countries their new armies raise.
Another war to end all wars.
We do not learn from history
For men can always find a cause.
Why this should be a mystery.
18-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Christmas
(Verse1)
hang up the mistletoe
i'm gonna get to know you betta
this chrstmas
and as we trim the tree
how much fun its gonna be together
this christmas
(Chorus)
the fire side is blazing bright
we're caroling through the night
and this christmas will be
a very special christmas for me
(you and me together would
make this christmas bright
shake a hand shake a hand now
you and me together
would make this christmas bright)
(Verse2)
presents and cards are here
my world is filled with cheer (OOOH)
this christmas
and as i look around
your eyes out shine the town
they do
this christmas
(Chorus)
(Verse3)
OOOh the fire side is blazing bright
we're caroling through the night
and this christmas will be
a very special christmas for me
(you and me together would
make this christmas bright
shake a hand shake a hand now
you and me together
would make this christmas bright
shake a hand shake a hand now
you and me together
would make this christmas bright
song performed by by Ashanti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Just Another Night
(ian hunter/mick ronson)
Oh no, the fuzz, all in a line
My oh my, I think Im gonna die
And its just another night
Its just another night
Got a long black face; who goes there?
All the reefer madnessput a poor kid in jail
And its just another night
Yeah, its just another night
Oh take it easy boy or its doa
Chrome on my body and a lot of folks say
That its just another night
Hey, its just another night
Oh, its just another night on the other side of life
Head ones a saw-bones and he wrecked my chair
Said howd you like to do it in a room downstairs
And its just another night
Oh, just another night
Hey now, papa joe, dont you pull my hair
All this intrigue, it gets me out of my league
And its just another night
Its just another night
His old man spent a fortune just to get him in
But baby boy growed up just as stupid as him
And its just another night
Its just another night
Its just another night on the other side of life
Just another night, hung down slow
I dont like the hotel let me go
Hells bells! give me a chance!
This rock n roller dont wanna dance
Just another night
Just another night
Well, its just another night on the other side of life
I never felt so bad; wheres my shades?
Its gonna be a long one getting crazed
A head spoutin noodles said, what do you plead?
I said you aint got to touch a man to make a man bleed
n its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night (on the other side)
Its just another night!
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Take,Take,Take
was sitting there in a comfortable chair
And that was all that I needed
Then my friend offered me a drink for us to share
And that was all that I needed
Well, then I felt at ease
But then I'm not too hard to please
I guess you couldn't call me greedy
Then I was shocked to look up
And see rita hayworth there in a place so seedy
She walked into the bar with her long, red, curly hair
And that was all that I needed
And I said to my friend, "good god, we're lucky men just to even see her"
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
And I could not resist, I just had to get close to her
And that was all that I needed
I walked and loomed around her table for a while
And that was all that I needed
Then I said, "i hate to bug you, ma'am, but can I have your autograph?"
And that was all that I needed
She pressed her lips against a white piece of paper
And that was all that I needed
Then I saw what she wrote, my heart is in my mouth
And that was all that I needed
Then she handed it to me, and I think that she could see
That that was all that I needed
I started to walk away but then I remembered 'hey, I forgot to get a picture'
So I asked her one more time, "could I have another favor?"
That was all that I needed
She was kind and posed with me
Then I knew my friend would see my celebrity meeting
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
She turned and said to me, "I need to go to sleep,"
And it seemed so mean
It's almost as if she could not appreciate how cool I was being
She said, "good night" and walked away
And I didn't know what to say
I just couldn't believe it
Well, it's just not fair
I want to get a piece of hair
That was all that I needed
Or maybe a kiss on the cheek
I wouldn't wash it for a week
That would be all that I needed
But she didn't even care
That I was even there
What a horrible feeling
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
No Man's Land
I'd been cleaning out the attic
And the gables in the roof,
Which were dusty, full of cobwebs
And a horror, tell the truth,
There were boxes, wooden chests
And mouldy papers overall,
'Til the ceiling couldn't take it,
It was bowed, about to fall.
So we shunted all this detritus
Until it filled the space
We had cleared on the landing
To gain access to the place,
'What on earth are we to do with it? '
My wife said in despair,
'We'll have to burn the lot, ' I said,
'Except that old box chair.'
I remembered the old box chair
From my Grandad's, Arthur Oates,
It was taken from a hallstand
Where we'd hung our hats and coats,
It was made of polished oak, and sat
So proudly, just inside,
My father must have brought it home
When my Grandfather died.
Later, when we'd finished sorting,
Burning, and so on,
I lifted up the lid to see
What treasures I had won,
My gas mask from the second war
That looked like Mickey Mouse,
Was sitting still within that box,
So many years had passed.
I tipped out scarves and ancient gloves
That still lay buried there,
My sister's broken China Doll
The type that had no hair,
And at the bottom, going brown
And brittle, somewhat dank,
My Grandad's faded diary,
With Number, Name and Rank.
I read it through that very night,
I sat there in the gloom,
And there the 'War to End all Wars'
Unfolded in my room,
It left me pensive, sitting there
For now I understood,
Those many journeys made to France,
My Grandad's bitter moods.
In 1914, Christmastime
He'd lain there in his trench,
The ground was hard and white that morn,
The atmosphere was tense,
The Germans in their trenches were
Just fifty yards away,
He heard them bursting into song,
They Caroled forth that day.
The strip that they called 'No Man's Land'
Lay under recent snow,
The bodies of the slain lay there,
No Christmas would they know!
A note came from the German side
A ceasefire, honour pledged,
Allowing each to venture out
Unharmed, bury their dead.
My grandfather had watched in awe
As slowly, German heads,
Rose up above their parapets,
Dispersed their fear and dread,
He climbed on out himself, and wandered
Over No Man's Land,
When the advancing Boche had smiled,
He shook a German's hand.
They wished a Merry Christmas each
These soldiers who were foes,
They were just men in uniforms
That day, as Jesus knows,
'We have no wish to kill you now, '
One said, 'nor you kill us,
So why shoot on this Christmas Day,
I'm you - you're one of us! '
They all exchanged small gifts that day,
Cigars, chocolate, tobacco,
They spoke in English, and in French
In accents loud, staccato,
They laughed and joked and passed around
Snapshots, from hand to hand,
They even played scratch football
Cheered and laughed, in No Man's Land.
My grandfather then wrote at length
Of one young lad, a Hun,
Blonde haired, blued eyed, his name was Franz
He seemed a friendly one,
They promised, they would find each other
When the war was done,
And drink to peace with Schnapps and Gin,
Scotch Whiskey, one for one.
That day the guns lay silent, then
They filed back to each trench,
Catcalled and whistled, bandied jokes,
Those soldiers were just men,
At midnight the ceasefire was off,
They all fired in the air,
No-one was hitting anyone
Across that land - 'Despair! '
But then the 'War to End all Wars'
Went grimly back on course,
The Officers made threats, and soon
Their orders lent them force,
My grandfather fired at a head
That bobbed in No Man's Land,
The Boche had fallen dead before
He recognised him - Franz.
I always thought my grandfather
Was grim, there was no light,
That animated him by day,
Or cheered his soul by night,
He spoke just once about the war
And said - 'War should be banned!
You'll never understand the horror,
There, in No Man's Land.'
6 January 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How Merry Is Christmas?
Many who say Merry Christmas, regarding Truth, are totally oblivious,
To the meaning behind this phrase, that we hear in these darker days.
Darker because The Light which came, many men today do not claim,
All Truth and Light being God’s Son, who came to earth for everyone.
From this season, one cannot hide, but, many are empty deep inside,
All streets may be filled with light, while many hearts are dark as night,
Not truly knowing why once a year, others celebrate this holiday cheer,
And they too, may not know the reason, why we celebrate this season.
Many men filled with festive song, view this holiday completely wrong,
While singing in their holiday spirit, Truth is not realized as they hear it,
And though giving is a noble thing, they dismiss the only Eternal King,
When from a child we mentally pause, and wind up with a Santa Claus.
A face that’s put on the many lies, ones deeper than a sleigh that flies,
As we’re told that he’s everywhere, knowing every child’s heartfelt care,
Saying that we’re all God’s children, even those who are still lost in sin,
Suggesting all men upon the earth, are God’s without the second birth.
Sad, Christmas will come and go, and The Truth many still won’t know,
With even one more said and done; many still do not know God’s Son,
Who came well before Christmas did, in this season is ignored and hid,
As many continue playing their part, in this season with an empty heart.
(Copyright ©11/2008)
song - Snow on The River (ii)
I saw your eyes in pale blue lines you’d posted out of Oban
And breathlessly I kissed your words: all that I could hold then
But if I listen to the night I sometimes hear the chords
In the smoke that bends away from the fire of your words
In the Gallery at Kelvingrove I saw you on the wall
Your face in every picture-frame on both sides of the hall
And in your eyes, wild holiness; the kind I could believe
Like the waves that break upon the west coast of Tiree
I stopped a while at Flannan Isle for Christmas, eighty four
And found the dream that dreamers weave unravelled on the floor
The food was on the table still, but all the birds had flown
It was like you’d never been, as I stood there on my own
And once by Chapelrossan house while you were sat beside me
On the wrong side of the white line, your eyes became the sea
The moon was full above Lang Rig, the trees were silver white
I was just your chaperone, and you my weakness for the night
It’s so long since I held you close it might have been a dream
Though all the moments we once shared still seem so real to me
I spent an evening in your house long after you were gone
But some part of you still lingers between the painted walls
Sometimes I see you strolling on the lane beside the White loch
Down where the ghosts of you and I once took themselves to walk
You’re always in the distance though I wait for you to close
Until geese curve down in darkness where water grasses grow
T’was on the isle of Islay heading westwards from Bridgend
The sun was on the ocean, and Kilmeny filled my head
I heard your voice by Loch Gorm side break through the veil of time
And it took me back to Glasgow when you were by my side
On the High Row in Port Logan it was just a fleeting glance
That launched me back through time and space to where it all began
A simple village hall, where simple dreaming filled the air
But my love, I don’t know you now; tomorrow’s all we share
Cost of Freedom
The night was cold,
But with bodies hot and roaring to go,
The skies black, filled with smoke and, lit with fire works,
But not the ones you want to see.
The 20 year old man writes to his love on a hard rock,
Telling her everything is alright and it’s over,
Now he can come home in peace.
30 years ago today, Jake sat on that bolder,
Witting a letter to a women that would become his wife.
Sipping his coffee, the clock strikes 8 am,
He knows its November 10, Th
The day of too many.
They had gone to bed for the night,
In steel bunkers, fires put out, and blankets over their bodies,
Guards right out side, so they can sleep all night without a fright.
Waking them all from dreaming in warm beds,
Was one more show, one more fight,
The enemy fireworks took many lives that night,
And within the presents of dawn,
Came the digging of many unmarked friends graves,
The friends that fought side by side for all those months,
Those same soldiers that will never make it home in peace.
Timer went off to get the cookies out of the oven,
Jake smiles, wipes the tears away from his eyes,
And says “these are for you Brad, you my best friend.
My war hero that didn’t come home in peace.
I am sorry your grave was one that was dug,
And for I bare the shovel.
One day we will walk side by side again.”
He knows the cost of freedom! Do you?
P.S.
thank you to all the men and women that made\make it so I can be free. thank you so much.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Soldiers Family
Today we lost another soldier, I do not know
His/her name.
Today we lost a soldier, I don’t know
From whence he/she came.
This was a soldier fighting in a war
As so many other soldiers had done this before.
It matters not what country the soldier is from.
For they no longer fight for country, but for each other.
All beliefs, religions, and honors are blown in the wind.
For war is not a joy, it is but a sin.
Once the soldier is gone, the family must live to carry on.
Wondering if it’s all been in vain
And if there was anything to gain.
The pains and the memories the families must bear
And with each other these they share.
A smile, a joke, a laughter, or two
These were the things they shared with you.
A love story or a relationship gone bad
These were the things that made them happy or sad.
A mother who inwardly cries
For it is so hard to say good-bye.
Nine months in her stomach, then tending
And caring for them and watching the child grow
This is what every mother knows.
A soldiers life is lost, but it’s not just any soldier you see
For this is the one that came from the father and me.
Yes! My child was a soldier and on the battle front they died
Trying to protect the freedom for you and I.
But let us mourn for all soldiers, for they are comrades
Who fought side by side, until the moment that they died.
It matters not if they are classified as the enemy
Death on all sides, there are so many.
They cry for their children, the same as we
And their hearts they do bleed.
If we as parents and family would be united as one
We would have these governments” under our gun”.
Until that day- we will always be “ a soldiers family”.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rio Grande's Last Race
Now this was what Macpherson told
While waiting in the stand;
A reckless rider, over-bold,
The only man with hands to hold
The rushing Rio Grande.
He said, `This day I bid good-bye
To bit and bridle rein,
To ditches deep and fences high,
For I have dreamed a dream, and I
Shall never ride again.
`I dreamt last night I rode this race
That I to-day must ride,
And cant'ring down to take my place
I saw full many an old friend's face
Come stealing to my side.
`Dead men on horses long since dead,
They clustered on the track;
The champions of the days long fled,
They moved around with noiseless tread -
Bay, chestnut, brown, and black.
`And one man on a big grey steed
Rode up and waved his hand;
Said he, "We help a friend in need,
And we have come to give a lead
To you and Rio Grande.
`"For you must give the field the slip,
So never draw the rein,
But keep him moving with the whip,
And if he falter - set your lip
And rouse him up again.
`"But when you reach the big stone wall,
Put down your bridle hand
And let him sail - he cannot fall -
But don't you interfere at all;
You trust old Rio Grande."
`We started, and in front we showed,
The big horse running free:
Right fearlessly and game he strode,
And by my side those dead men rode
Whom no one else could see.
`As silently as flies a bird,
They rode on either hand;
At every fence I plainly heard
The phantom leader give the word,
"Make room for Rio Grande!"
`I spurred him on to get the lead,
I chanced full many a fall;
But swifter still each phantom steed
Kept with me, and at racing speed
We reached the big stone wall.
`And there the phantoms on each side
Drew in and blocked his leap;
"Make room! make room!" I loudly cried,
But right in front they seemed to ride -
I cursed them in my sleep. `He never flinched, he faced it game,
He struck it with his chest,
And every stone burst out in flame,
And Rio Grande and I became
As phantoms with the rest.
`And then I woke, and for a space
All nerveless did I seem;
For I have ridden many a race,
But never one at such a pace
As in that fearful dream.
`And I am sure as man can be
That out upon the track,
Those phantoms that men cannot see
Are waiting now to ride with me,
And I shall not come back.
`For I must ride the dead men's race,
And follow their command;
'Twere worse than death, the foul disgrace
If I should fear to take my place
To-day on Rio Grande.'
He mounted, and a jest he threw,
With never sign of gloom;
But all who heard the story knew
That Jack Macpherson, brave and true,
Was going to his doom.
They started, and the big black steed
Came flashing past the stand;
All single-handed in the lead
He strode along at racing speed,
The mighty Rio Grande.
But on his ribs the whalebone stung,
A madness it did seem!
And soon it rose on every tongue
That Jack Macpherson rode among
The creatures of his dream.
He looked to left and looked to right,
As though men rode beside;
And Rio Grande, with foam-flecks white,
Raced at his jumps in headlong flight
And cleared them in his stride.
But when they reached the big stone wall,
Down went the bridle-hand,
And loud we heard Macpherson call,
`Make room, or half the field will fall!
Make room for Rio Grande!'
. . . . .
`He's down! he's down!' And horse and man
Lay quiet side by side!
No need the pallid face to scan,
We knew with Rio Grande he ran
The race the dead men ride.
A.B. (Banjo) Paterson
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thank God Its Christmas
Words and music by brian may and roger taylor
Oh my love weve had our share of tears
Oh my friend weve had our hopes and fears
Oh my friends its been a long hard year
But now its christmas
Yes its christmas
Thank God its christmas
The moon and stars seem awful cold and bright
Lets hope the snow will make this christmas right
My friend the world will share this special night
Because its christmas
Yes its christmas
Thank God its christmas
For one night
Thank God its christmas yeah
Thank God its christmas
Thank God its christmas
Can it be christmas?
Let it be christmas
Evry day
Oh my love weve lived in troubled days
Oh my friend we have the strangest ways
All my friends on this one day of days
Thank God its christmas
Yes its christmas
Thank God its christmas
For one day
Thank God its christmas
Yes its christmas
Thank God its christmas
Oooh yeah
Thank God its christmas
Yes yes yes yes its christmas
Thank God its christmas
For one day
A very merry christmas to you all
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Call The Man
Close the door
Shut the world away
All the fight's gone from this wounded heart
Across the floor
Dreams and shadows play
Like wind blown refugees
Call the man
Who deals in love beyond repair
He can heal the world
Of hearts in need of care
Shine a light ahead
When the next step is unclear
Call the man
He's needed here
I close my eyes
I remember when
Your sweet love filled this empty room
The tears I cry
Won't bring it back again
Unless the lonely star should fall
Call the man
Who deals in love beyond repair
He can heal the world
Of hearts in need of care
Shine a light ahead
When the next step is unclear
Call the man
He's needed here
Needed in the chaos and confusion
From the plains to city hall
Needed where the proud who walk the wire are set to fall
Call the man
Who deals in once upon a time
Maybe he
Can mend this broken heart of mine
Shine a light ahead
Now the future isn't clear
Call the man
He's needed here
Call the man
He's needed here
He's needed here
He's needed here
Call the man
He's needed here
Right here right now
song performed by by Celine Dion from Falling Into You
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Princeton, May, 1917
Here Freedom stood by slaughtered friend and foe,
And, ere the wrath paled or that sunset died,
Looked through the ages; then, with eyes aglow,
Laid them to wait that future, side by side.
(Lines for a monument to the American and British soldiers of the Revolutionary War who fell on the Princeton battlefield and were buried in one grave.)
Now lamp-lit gardens in the blue dusk shine
Through dogwood, red and white;
And round the gray quadrangles, line by line,
The windows fill with light,
Where Princeton calls to Magdalen, tower to tower,
Twin lanthorns of the law;
And those cream-white magnolia boughs embower
The halls of "Old Nassau."
The dark bronze tigers crouch on either side
Where redcoats used to pass;
And round the bird-loved house where Mercer died,
And violets dusk the grass,
By Stony Brook that ran so red of old,
But sings of friendship now,
To feed the old enemy's harvest fifty-fold
The green earth takes the plow.
Through this May night, if one great ghost should stray
With deep remembering eyes,
Where that old meadow of battle smiles away
Its blood-stained memories,
If Washington should walk, where friend and foe
Sleep and forget the past,
Be sure his unquenched heart would leap to know
Their souls are linked at last.
Be sure he walks, in shadowy buff and blue,
Where those dim lilacs wave.
He bends his head to bless, as dreams come true,
The promise of that grave;
Then, with a vaster hope than thought can scan,
Touching his ancient sword,
Prays for that mightier realm of God in man:
"Hasten thy kingdom, Lord.
"Land of our hope, land of the singing stars,
Type of the world to be,
The vision of a world set free from wars
Takes life, takes form from thee;
Where all the jarring nations of this earth,
Beneath the all-blessing sun,
Bring the new music of mankind to birth,
And make the whole world one."
And those old comrades rise around him there,
Old foemen, side by side,
With eyes like stars upon the brave night air,
And young as when they died,
To hear your bells, O beautiful Princeton towers,
Ring for the world's release.
They see you piercing like gray swords through flowers,
And smile, from souls at peace.
poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Talk About The Good Times
(words & music by jerry reed hubbard)
Well I remember when I was as children
The time the people used to treat the neighbor like a fellow man
And all their singin and big prayer meetins
When a man was proud to walk up and shake his neighbors hand
Oh you talk about the good times,
Talk about the good times
Oh if you ever needed help a friend was there
Some good neighbor
Help lift your burden
Mmm, and the simple joys of life a friend would share
Times are harder and the people are changin
Now most folks couldnt tell you who their neighbors are
All their guns are loaded, the front doors are bolted
Aint this ol world takin hate and fear just a little too far
Oh you talk about the good times,
Talk about the good times
I wish I could go back to the days Im speakin of
When a friend would meet you
And a smile would greet you
What this ol world needs now is a little old fashioned love
My granddaddy God rest his soul now
Well we had a big long talk together the day he died
Said son this world is full of hate and venom
An I cant wait to leave this ol place and rest on the other side
Oh you talk about the good times, talk about the good times
Talk about the good times
Im gonna see all the friends I knew in the good ol days
Well have a big hand shakin
An sit and talk together
Sit down by the river jordan and sing our blues away
Oh you talk about the good times, talk about the good times
Talk about the good times
Im gonna see all the friends I knew in the good ol days
Well have a big hand shakin
An sit and talk together
Sit down by the river jordan and sing our blues away
Oh you talk about the good times, talk about the good times
Talk about the good times
Im gonna see all the friends I knew in the good ol days
Well have a big hand shakin
An sit and talk together
Sit down by the river jordan and sing our blues away
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Day of Christmas
The greatest time of the year
The day that reminds me of Christ
The day of christmas
The day that brings the happiest moments
The day that leaves beautiful
memories
The day that does not last a day
The day that spreads joy and
happiness...
The time of christmas
That brings about fun and
excitement
A church service like no other
The singing of hymns
The beautiful enchantment of the christmas carols...
and the lovely exchange of gifts
The beautiful christmas tree
brightly decorated
The beads and the beautiful lights
The joy of singing with family....
And the opening of christmas parcels
The jingle bells, the peace, the
quiet..
the celebration, the merriment...
the atmosphere filled with joy and
thanksgiving
The love, the eagerness, the
funfair..
The beautiful decorations
The christmas eve, the anticipation
The christmas Day
The christmas night filled with
fireworks and lovely colours
The night sky looking more
beautiful than ever...
Noel, The holy and the ivy, The 12
Days of christmas
All these only the joy of christmas
brings
I wish everyone a Merry christmas
and a Happy new year
poem by Ifeanyi Eze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Goodbye, My Brother
Goodbye, My Brother
By Renelle
On the Eighteen of August, A day I’ll never forget
A phone call from Mom got me all upset
I knew it was over and no longer a dream
When I saw Dad’s eyes, returning from the scene
I always thought you would grow old with me
To laugh and talk about us being silly
If only I could see you one more time
I would say, ' I miss you, Good-Bye '
You came to see me one Saturday night,
We laughed and talked cause we rarely fought
But You never told me you were going away
Until you left that one August Day
A son, A brother, A friend so true
Whatever he had, he'd share it with you
A thought, a deed, a kind word for a while
But always, oh always, He'd share 'His Smile'
Our hearts are breaking, our thoughts are going wild
We've lost our friend; We've lost our child
'I needed him, ' I heard Jesus say
'He's been chosen for the Master's Bouquet'
A room would brighten when you would come in
Cause the first thing we saw, would be your grin
Even when you're not in sight
You're in my thoughts day and night
Today, Jesus, as You are listening in your home above
Would you go and find Jason and give him all my love
And now my poem will come to an end, Until the day we meet again
I pray that you are now at ease. Goodbye my brother, May you Rest In Peace
xox
poem by Renelle Gallant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bennie The Frog
Bennie always sang in the bath tub
and his dream was to sing with a band.
At night he visited the clubs and pubs
and he travelled throughout the land.
In a pub called the Pig and Whistle
he heard music loud and clear,
but he didn’t hear anyone singing
and thought his chance was here.
When the band took a break from playing
Bennie went over to have a chat.
He asked if he could sing a song with them
and they said yes at the dropp of a hat.
They asked what song he’d be singing
when they returned on stage to play.
Bennie chose an old Rock ‘n’ Roll number,
Buddy Holly’s ‘That’ll Be The Day’.
The room soon filled up with people,
as Bennie stood in front of the band,
the pianist played the introduction
then Bennie grabbed the mic’ and sang.
There was plenty of foot-tapping and clapping
and the audience stamped on the floor.
They liked the sound of Bennie’s singing
and when he finished they shouted for more.
Bennie at last had become a singer
and his dreams had all come true,
and instead of just singing in the bath tub
he now sings to audiences too.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rio Grande
Now this was what Macpherson told
While waiting in the stand;
A reckless rider, over-bold,
The only man with hands to hold
The rushing Rio Grande.
He said, “This day I bid good-bye
To bit and bridle rein,
To ditches deep and fences high,
For I have dreamed a dream, and I
Shall never ride again.
“I dreamt last night I rode this race
That I today must ride,
And cantering down to take my place
I saw full many an old friend’s face
Come stealing to my side.
“Dead men on horses long since dead,
They clustered on the track;
The champions of the days long fled,
They moved around with noiseless tread—
Bay, chestnut, brown, and black.
“And one man on a big grey steed
Rode up and waved his hand;
Said he, ‘We help a friend in need,
And we have come to give a lead
To you and Rio Grande.
“‘For you must give the field the slip;
So never draw the rein,
But keep him moving with the whip,
And, if he falter, set your lip
And rouse him up again.
“‘But when you reach the big stone wall
Put down your bridle-hand
And let him sail-he cannot fall,
But don’t you interfere at all;
You trust old Rio Grande.’
“We started, and in front we showed,
The big horse running free:
Right fearlessly and game he strode,
And by my side those dead men rode
Whom no one else could see.
“As silently as flies a bird,
They rode on either hand;
At every fence I plainly heard
The phantom leader give the word,
‘Make room for Rio Grande!’
“I spurred him on to get the lead,
n I chanced full many a fall;
But swifter still each phantom steed
Kept with me, and at racing speed
We reached the big stone wall.
“And there the phantoms on each side
Drew in and blocked his leap;
‘Make room! make room!’ I loudly cried,
But right in front they seemed to ride—
I cursed them in my sleep.
“He never flinched, he faced it game,
He struck it with his chest,
And every stone burst out in flame—
And Rio Grande and I became
Phantoms among the rest.
“And then I woke, and for a space
All nerveless did I seem;
For I have ridden many a race
But never one at such a pace
As in that fearful dream.
“And I am sure as man can be
That out upon the track
Those phantoms that men cannot see
Are waiting now to ride with me;
And I shall not come back.
“For I must ride the dead men’s race,
And follow their command;
’Twere worse than death, the foul disgrace
If I should fear to take my place
Today on Rio Grande.”
He mounted, and a jest he threw,
With never sign of gloom;
But all who heard the story knew
That Jack Macpherson, brave and true,
Was going to his doom.
They started, and the big black steed
Came flashing past the stand;
All single-handed in the lead
He strode along at racing speed,
The mighty Rio Grande.
But on his ribs the whalebone stung—
A madness, sure, it seemed—
And soon it rose on every tongue
That Jack Macpherson rode among
The creatures he had dreamed.
He looked to left, and looked to right,
As though men rode beside;
And Rio Grande, with foam-flecks white,
Raced at his jumps in headlong flight
And cleared them in his stride.
But when they reached the big stone wall,
Down went the bridle-hand,
And loud we heard Macpherson call
“Make room, or half the field will fall!
Make room for Rio Grande!”
“He’s down! he’s down!” And horse and man
Lay quiet side by side!
No need the pallid face to scan,
We knew with Rio Grande he ran
The race the dead men ride.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spoilt For Choice
Daylight reveals now night has fled.
The mangled bodies of the dead.
Now provender for hungry crows
Who feast alike on friends and foes.
Opposing armies fought and died.
Now enemies lie side by side.
The scavengers do not care
What uniform the bodies wear.
To crows all bodies taste the same.
They are the winners in the game.
The foolish game men choose to play.
So when the battle moves away
It does not matter in the least.
They are content to stay and feast.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Football A Game.
What a name called?
Football a game called,
To known arena called stadium,
Played eleven to eleven side to side each,
Formations of it kinds,
Aims of a two goal post net,
Aims of a trophy,
Aims of winning,
In a color Jersey of its kinds,
In a color booths of it kinds,
Side to side balls picking sons round,
Spectators sat rounding pitch watching,
Centered with a nominated referee officiating,
Lined with a two lines men flagged,
Officials of substitutions in questions,
Pronounced by named commentators,
Red and yellow cards rules in question,
Supported keys of volunteers,
Supported with all sorts of supporters,
Declared a stadium manager jobs,
Declared a team manager jobs,
Host the nations, Host the world,
At moment of a country designated!
At moment of a country authorized!
Called for all practitioners....
Photographers, Cinematography, Press, Medias, Adverts, Sponsors, critics, etc. centred.
What a name called?
Football! football! ! football! ! !
A rounded leather circled!
Circled in its color of its choices,
Declared fifa authorities,
Declared statistical over all game,
Respect covered face to face,
Stretchers officials in uniforms of its officials medications,
Football a game called,
With boots of its kinds worn,
Saddled a whole lot supporters,
Saddled a whole lot analysts,
Presumption for a nation's glory,
Preemptive individuals' desirably for survival,
Football a game called,
Called to the passionate in spirit,
Football a game called,
Embrace understanding to unnamed,
Embrace love to unloved,
Embrace unity to diversities,
Embrace creativity to un-creativity,
Football a game called,
Adore a nature,
Football a game called,
Called to a glorious home,
Football a game called,
A rounded leather circled!
With boots of its played,
With jersey of its kinds,
With choices of many kinds,
Football a game called.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!