Redundant.
.
The skull that grins upon my desk
I picked up at a car boot sale
Although my taste me seen grotesque.
The skull reminds me without fail.
As he is now so will I be.
In time to come I too must die
I don't suppose he thought that he.
Would end up as a bargain buy.
When I am dead my skull may be.
An ornament that's on display.
On someone's desk quite possibly
What does it matter anyway.
Though it was mine it is not me.
It never was nor will it be.
Saturday,08 September 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Defeated Story poem for M lady Ernestine
A yellowed skull, still on display
above the oaken fire place
A relic from a by gone day.
Which it is possible to trace
back for five hundred years or more.
I hate the thing my host explains
grotesque against modern décor.
It can’t be moved or it complains.
The house re- echoes to its screams.
Until its back in place once more.
It’s been a fixture now it seems
Since fifteen hundred sixty four
Although it has been exorcised
and given Christian burial.
It’s very quickly recognised
there’ll be no peace until the skull
Is returned to its proper place
upon the panelled chimney breast
. A fact all owners have to face.
Though some have put it to the test.
It’s not a conversation piece.
Although subject of fierce debate.
If it is moved its screams won’t cease
until it hangs above the grate
The legend says he was betrayed
and murdered by an enemy.
Who had seduced a serving maid
who had allowed him free entry.
This story can’t be verified
No written records still remain
But I for one am terrified
and will not try to move again.
This yellowed skull from long ago,
which hangs above the fireplace.
That’s why it is there still on show
The passing years can not erase.
The skulls determination
to rest in peace just where it is
on open exhibition.
No power on earth can alter this.
The skull remains though owners change.
This ugly object quietly
defies attempts to re-arrange
ideas of where it ought to be.
In time it will disintegrate
into a pile of brownish dust
But until the we have to wait
It is quite obvious we must.
Although you think to humour me
by listening to this eerie tale.
I will admit quite openly
That’s why this house is up for sale.
I can no longer stand the skull
which grins above the mantel piece.
Although the house is beautiful
I never have a moment’s peace.
Because I’m not the master here
It seems the skull has laid its claim
allows no one to interfere.
The previous owners felt the same.
I bought it a discount price
Although I knew its history
I thought my knowledge would suffice
to solve the mystery easily..
I’ve had enough I must confess
The screaming skull has won again.
Now I would sell the house for less
than what I paid: I would regain
the peace of mind I used to know.
Before I bought this residence
that housed a skull from long ago.
I should have used my common sense.
I dismissed as an old wives tale
The legend of the screaming skull.
I little thought my dream would fail.
I thought the house was wonderful.
I’ll have to leave I cannot bear
to stay another single day
I fear the yellowed skulls cold stare
Has driven many men away.
The house has stood for centuries
Had many owners in its time.
The house itself is sure to please
but for the skull would be sublime..
This grinning relic from the past
Is the real ruler of this place.
His reign it seems is sure to last
A fact I can no longer face.
11-Mar-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Skull Ring
(feat. The Stooges)
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
The touch of a hand in the wasteland
you're walking asleep and dreaming cheap
A bird's wing don't beat for free
You're freezing cold and your family
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
Fingers on fire to do what's bad
Ring on the finger is a skull man
Strong as a bar of steel
Weakness is that you can't feel
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
My life is dirtied, my mind is loaded
I'm feeling and breathing and fighting
To see
People get ready now
Baby come on give your heart to me
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn Around
I was working all night in my office
When a man I had recently killed
Called me up from a phone near my building
So I looked out the window at him
He had the same obsequious manner
That was the reason I had him killed
So to calm my nerves I sang this song
To him, over the phone
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
I was out by myself in the graveyard
I was doing an interpretive dance
When I felt something heavy and pointed
Strike me in the back of the neck
And then the ghost of my dance instructor
Pushed me down into an open grave
And as dirt rained down she played a xylophone
And sang me this song
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
We were waving our arms out the window
Of a fast moving passenger train
Acting in an irresponsible fashion
Until the engineer whose back had been turned
And who we thought would find us highly amusing
Quickly swiveled his head around
And his face which was a paper-white mask of evil
Sang us this song
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rum & Red Bull (being a day after her birthday poem)
Out of our skull
on Rum & Red Bull
we play football
with a grinning
plastic skull
(retrieved from a skip)
using the Momento Mori
for a drunken kickabout.
You dribble
& drool it.
You shoot
I save it
tipping it over
an imaginary crossbar.
Spectacular!
I bathe
in an imaginary roar.
I clutch
the skull
to my chest
begin to spout:
'Toby
(or not)
Toby
... that is the jug! '
'Oi...! ' you shout
'Me Lord Hamlet
...over here
on de head! '
I dropp kick
the skull
(grinning still)
in your general
direction.
I can see
two of you
& don't know who
to pass it too.
You rise
beautifully to
the occasion
losing a stiletto
in the process
your body arched
like a sublime salmon
jumping
upstream
you head the skull home
past my groping outstretched fingertips
'GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLGOALL LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! '
you scream
your blouse
over your head
in exultant
celebration.
A 'Now then...now then' police man
confiscates our skull.
Tells us
to bugger off.
'Awwww Ref! '
we argue but
he ain't
having any of it.
Hanging on
to each other
you ululating.
We stagger
down the street
look back
to see
P.C. Plod
miskick the skull
through someone's sleeping
window
crashtinkletinkle.
We wonder if
he'll have to
arrest
himself.
We scarper
in case he tries
to blame it
on innocent us.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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First Clown: A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.
line from Hamlet, Act V, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If you're an archaeologist, I bet it's real embarrassing to put together a skull from a bunch of ancient bone fragments, but then it turns out it's not a skull but just an old dried-out potato.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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V…Villa…Villalanelle
Break them at start of such a sulky day,
Though sick boys do fall for traps they make.
Never yield to the sad skull screams do they,
Just dance a dance midst dreary shadow play,
Though evil men and worldly beings of fake
Break them at start of such a sulky day,
Though often weep alone in chaos clay,
And keep poor brains which wrap their souls to take
Never yield to the sad skull screams do they,
And though naives and fools keep them from their way
And choke them blue as they stand in their wake
Break them at start of such a sulky day,
Sick Boys never mourn nor cry, so they say
Salt drenched drops seldom from their eyes do flake,
Never yield to the sad skull screams do they,
And though complain often those Sick Boys may
Of how the cold breeze chills and muscle ache,
Break them at start of such a sulky day,
Never yield to the sad skull screams do they.
(2012)
Samvel Aleksanyan © All Rights Reserved
In The Doldrums Waiting
I sit at my desk
in the doldrums waiting
for an idea to hit me,
but sadly, nothing comes along.
I think of things that
have happened to me
hoping one of them will inspire.
However, the memories compound together
overlapping into one another,
and each are small glimpses
of a more elaborate one.
The nonsense of them all
sends me backwards to where I started from,
sitting here at my desk
in the doldrums waiting.
2 September 2012
poem by David Harris
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Climbing Up The Walls (Zero 7 Mix)
I am the key to the lock in your house
that keeps your toys in the basement,
and if you get too far inside
you'll only see my reflection.
See her face when she sleeps tonight,
I am the pick in the ice,
do not cry out or hit the alarm,
we are we're friends till we die.
And either way you turn I'll be there,
open up your skull, I'll be there
climbing up the walls.
It's always best when the light is off,
it's always better on the outside,
in the crack of your wanting smile,
fifteen blows to the skull.
So tuck the kids in safe tonight,
and shut the eyes in the cupboard.
do not cry out or hit the alarm,
you'll get the loneliest feeling
that either way you turn I'll be there,
open up your skull, I'll be there
climbing up the walls.
Climbing up the walls.
Climbing up the walls
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bullet Named Ken
A Snapshot of war.
He lies next to me in the mud
Dead; a shot blew half of his skull
Away leaving the taste of brains
In my mouth.” I shot that goddamn,
Dirty, rotten rag head, Ken! I
Cut him in half before he
Hit the ground! ” Ken had a grotesque
look on his dirty, blood-soaked face.
Something I couldn’t quite make out.
I stared into his vacant eyes
And found myself unconsciously
Saying with no embarrassment,
“I’m glad it had “your” name on it.”
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Listen...
There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”
That solitary prisoner
Will never hear reply.
No comrade in eternity
Can hear the frantic cry.
No heart can share the terror
That haunts his monstrous dark.
The light that filters through the chinks
No other eye can mark.
When flesh is linked with eager flesh,
And words run warm and full,
I think that he is loneliest then,
The captive in the skull.
Caught in a mesh of living veins,
In cell of padded bone,
He loneliest is when he pretends
That he is not alone.
We’d free the incarcerate race of man
That such a doom endures
Could only you unlock my skull,
Or I creep into yours.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hornets
How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that's there amongst the leaves!
A Hornets' nest; but stir the branch
And they'll be round your head and ears!
So wary ana so weaponed,
How do they not possess the wold?
Their lives a watch, their act a doom,
Of their own terrors they must die!
Livid, uneyed, articulate,
How like a skull their nest they make!
poem by Padraic Colum
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The Drug's Not Working
I was shooting in the back of the car
When the windows smashed on the police cars
I was swimming through the streets of New York
With my cocaine dagger and throats to cut
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making me high
She was a hooker at the age of 16
All she wanted was the money
She didn't need an I.D.
She was a junkie and I know its clich
But then so was her life
I mean, she lived in L.A.
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making her high
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making her high
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
(Riot in my skull, demons are coming)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Painted it all black, the chains are jerking)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Riot in my skull, demons are coming)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
Riot in my skull, demons are coming
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
Painted it all black, the chains are jerking
L.A. is dead, the drugs ain't working
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
The drugs ain't working
The drugs ain't working
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skull And Bones
Skull And Bones,
hands on the heart,
finger on the button...
chosen, and groomed,
covered by the veil,
world by design.
economics held,
population control,
Aids and starvation,
and war after war.
oil rigs, nuclear nights,
done step by step;
all part of the plan....
Skull And Bones!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Travelling At The Speed Of Thought (hip House Club Mix)
(Kool Keith)
I go 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
As I take your mind off
And on to a new track
To tame dogs how to act
Respect me, when I whip your brain
Skip your brain and dip your brain
In the lotion while I deck ya skull
I'm like a bird when I'm pecking ya skull
Til it hurts and swell, puffs, bleed, blood
Hatches down, ?covering knots for eye jammy?
I'm taking ya brain from the back
I'ma pull out ya ears cuz I'm sick
Traveling hard, ill off, another lunatic
Smacking germs, eating bugs, biting mouse
Roaches wonder why I'm traveling
On to Bell Vue cuz I'm sick
Traveling hard at the speed of thought
(Ced-Gee)
Well, I'm back to seek and freek a new remix
Wit the sounds of light and I can't miss
Rocking the beats will cause hard time
Wit the way I say and I freak rhymes
Ruff and hardcore, I wanna encore
I'm Ced-Gee, I'm in an uproar
Taking breaks, snatching, giving X-rays
Read ya cells or should I say
Hey, it's nothing, I'm simply rushing
Into ya skull and merely crushing
Cells, leaving you blind
The more you look, the more you will find
Me, traveling at the speed of thought
song performed by by Ultramagnetic Mc's
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travelling At The Speed Of Thought
(kool keith)
I go 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
As i take your mind off
And on to a new track
To tame dogs how to act
Respect me, when i whip your brain
Skip your brain and dip your brain
In the lotion while i deck ya skull
I'm like a bird when i'm pecking ya skull
Til it hurts and swell, puffs, bleed, blood
Hatches down, ?covering knots for eye jammy?
I'm taking ya brain from the back
I'ma pull out ya ears cuz i'm sick
Traveling hard, ill off, another lunatic
Smacking germs, eating bugs, biting mouse
Roaches wonder why i'm traveling
On to bell vue cuz i'm sick
Traveling hard at the speed of thought
(ced-gee)
Well, i'm back to seek and freek a new remix
Wit the sounds of light and i can't miss
Rocking the beats will cause hard time
Wit the way i say and i freak rhymes
Ruff and hardcore, i wanna encore
I'm ced-gee, i'm in an uproar
Taking breaks, snatching, giving x-rays
Read ya cells or should i say
Hey, it's nothing, i'm simply rushing
Into ya skull and merely crushing
Cells, leaving you blind
The more you look, the more you will find
Me, traveling at the speed of thought
song performed by by Ultramagnetic Mc's
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skull Tattoo
Lord you know what makes a lonely man
All it takes is to be
Racing down where you never be found
Oh dont let me fall that low again
When youre gone that far
Only one things going to get you up
Chorus (2x):
She is the woman with the skull tattoo
Her skin is black and eyes are blue
Takes me to heaven when I think of you
She picked me up in a gutter downtown
Lord know I lost me faith in you
So it goes when you are
Racing down where youll never be found
Your dark angel spread her wing again
When youve gone that far
Only one thing is going to pick you up
Chorus
She is the woman with the skull tattoo
Her skin is black and her eyes are blue
Takes me to heaven when I think of you
She picked me up in a gutter downtown
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Shell
A SHELL
a big shell
on a warm sand shelf
building long and strong
out at last kept out.
TIME to decide
what's inside
for inside meditation
for contemplation.
Any answers?
A SKULL
a big skull
with a warm snug self
building long and strong
to keep out out.
EYE, ear and brain
drag it all in again,
sense saturation.
NEVER alone.
No time to take advantage
of the bone.
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Memoriam (A Child Missed)
A desk lies empty
A missing face to find
A child soon missed by some
Another life consumed by one
A classmate questioned
A missing child to find
While a desk lies empty
A hope dwindles with time
As a child's life once abound
A child's fate is now found
While a desk lies empty
A lifeless child is found
As questions of why arise
A time for tears to flow
While a desk lies empty
A prayer for a missed child we know
A quiet voice to miss
A child missed we know
While a desk lies empty
A question of why to know
A future now not to be
A tragic loss we are told
While a desk lies empty
An answer of why yet untold
A myriad of lives changed
Another youthful innocent lost
While a desk lies empty
At a life's innocence cost
A society believed so rich
And yet a life's worth so poor
While a desk lies empty
Another child's life's no more
A time to ponder a commitment
A life's question to answer
While a desk lies empty...
poem by Robert John Meehan
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Who Desecrated Geronimo’s Grave?
“elected politicians
government by the people
for the people?
which people? ”
free and equal
representation of the people?
go tell that to Native
Americans
see if they believe?
or African Americans
who had their votes
discounted so bonesman
Bush could steal Florida
steal the White House?
'crooking' America
Skull and Bones 322
stealers of the skull of eighth
President Martin Van Buren?
Skull and Bones 322
stealers of the skull of Pancho Villa
Mexican Revolutionary general?
Trivial pursuit
which American President’s
father and grandfather
desecrated Geronimo’s grave?
A clue? A clue?
Geronimo’s bones were supposedly
stolen by Skull and Bones members
'crooking' from Fort Sill Oklahoma.
A clue? A clue?
An anonymous letter with a photograph
and a copy of a log book claiming;
Skull & Bones stole Geronimo’s skull was sent
in 1986 to who? To who? Ned Anderson
former San Carlos Apache Chairman.
Skull & Bones officials, and group's attorney,
Endicott P. Davidson, denied S&B held
the skull, claiming the 1918 ledger a hoax.
In 2006 a 1918 letter from Skull & Bones
member Winter Mead to member F. Trubee
Davison claimed the theft was 'exhumed';
from Fort Sill by club 322 and Geronimo’s
skull was 'safe' in the club's headquarters.
The Facts: When and Where?
Six members of Yale secret society
Skull and Bones, including Prescott Bush;
were serving as Army volunteers at Fort Sill.
During World War I these six bonesmen
allegedly stole Geronimo's skull, femurs
and other bones; Geronimo's prized silver
bridle and saddle horn; buried in his grave!
Desecrated in the Apache Indian Prisoner
of War Cemetery at Fort Sill, Oklahoma!
Is it true? Is it true?
William Ramsey Clark former
United States Attorney General
filed a lawsuit in 2009 on behalf
of some of Geronimo's descendants!
Against, Barack Obama, Robert Gates,
and Skull and Bones, requesting
the return of Geronimo's bones!
Robert Gates still serves
as Secretary of Defense
in President Barack Obama's cabinet!
Was Barack Obama the first Black
bonesman or were there others?
From which dark secret society?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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