The Resurrection
LONG, long before men die I sometimes read
Their stoic backs as plain as graveyard stones,
An epitaph of poor dead men indeed.
I never pass those old and crooked bones,
Ridden far down with burden and with age,
Stopping the headlong highway till they lean
Aside in honor of my equipage,
But I am sick and shamed that Heaven has been
So clumsy with the inelastic clay!
'What pretty piece of hope then have you spun,
My old defeated traveler,' I say,
'That keeps you marching on? For I have none.
I have looked often and I have not found
Old men bowed low who ever rose up sound.'
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Related quotes
Headlong
Words and music by queen
And youre rushing headlong youve got a new goal
And youre rushing headlong out of control
And you think youre so strong
But there aint no stopping
And theres nothin you can do about it
Nothin you can do no theres nothin you can do about it
No theres nothin you can nothin you can nothin you can
Do about it
And youre rushing headlong youve got a new goal
And youre rushing headlong out of control
And you think youre so strong
But there aint no stopping no theres nothin you can do
About it
Yeah
Hey he used to be a man with a stick in his hand
Hoop diddy diddy - hoop diddy do
She used to be a woman with a hot dog stand
Hoop diddy diddy - hoop diddy do
Now youve got soup in the laundry bag
Now youve got strings youre gonna lose your rag
Youre gettin in a fight
Then it aint so groovy when youre screaming in the night
Let me out of this cheap b movie
Headlong down the highway and youre rushing
Headlong out of control
And you think youre so strong
But there aint no stopping and you cant stop rockin
And theres nothin you can nothin you can nothin you can
Do about it
When a red hot man meets a white hot lady
Hoop diddy diddy - hoop diddy do
Soon the fire starts raging gets you more than half crazy
Hoop diddy diddy - hoop diddy do
Now they start freaking everywhere you turn
You cant start walking cause your feet got burned
It aint no time to figure wrong from right
Cause reasons out of the window better hold on tight
Youre rushing headlong
Headlong out of control - yeah
And you think youre so strong
But there aint no stopping
And theres nothin you nothin you nothin you can do about
It at all
Yeah yeah
Alright - go
And youre rushing headlong down the highway
And youre rushing headlong out of control
And you think youre so strong
But there aint no stopping
Theres nothin nothin nothin you can do about it
Ah ha
Headlong
Yeah yeah yeah
Headlong
Headlong
Headlong
Gnoldeah gnoldeah gnoldeah gnoldeah
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lean On Me
Heavy burden on your shoulder
Lean on me
Heavy burden on your shoulder
Lean on me
Heavy burden on your shoulder
Everyday just a little bit harder
Heavy burden on your shoulder
Lean on me
Down and out without hope
Lean on me
Down and out without hope
Lean on me
Down and out without hope
Im right here, Ill help you cope
Down and out without hope
Lean on me
Grab a rope and pull me in
But lean on me
Everyday, youll have a friend
But lean on me
Grab a rope, pull me in
Everyday youll have a friend
Grab a rope
In the world, ? ?
And if youre looking for a rainy day friend
Well grab a rope, pull me in
Lean on me
Heavy burden cloudy skies
Lean on me
Ill be the ? ? of weeping eyes
But lean on me
If you always feels like rain
All youve got in life is pain
Heavy burden, go away
Oh... , goodbye
Heavy burden, on you shoulder
Lean on me
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The long nosed ridged backed swamp whippet
We had to leave new Zealand shores, in rain an snow an fog
just me and my adversary by that I mean my dog!
a pig dog was Dorothy, a holder of the best
the first to feel the tusk, she would never let it rest
teeth barded she would attack, from front or from the rear
she grabbed at their extremities to her she knew no fear
we landed on the Aussie shores, an to the great out back
we slept amongst the stars at night where the abbo's track
we came upon a wayside pub, we were tired and dry
our swag a burden on our backs at night beneath the sky
the landlord said to me, is that a fighting dog?
I said with a grimace, with a chance she would!
I have a dog out beyond, will you take a bet on him!
landlord for free beer I'll even let him sing!
out the back the landlords dog was long and lean and thin
I'd never seen the likes of him or anything close to him!
what kind of dog is that I said, for sure I'd never seen
It’s a 'long nosed ridged backed swamp whippet'
and for a fight he's very keen!
Dorothy, looked at him then looked again at me
I said go on sweetheart let his soul go free!
the whippet took her leg, but she just gave a groan
in she rushed and grabbed his tail, and took it to the bone
it was in a flash the whippet caught Dorothy by the head
it was over in a flash, for poor Dorothy was dead!
money changed hands and I was all alone
the whippet had eaten Dorothy all was left was bone!
the landlord told me of his dog, of tales I'd never heard,
the beers on me tonight, not another word
What was the breed of dog that took my Dorothy
a Long nosed ridged backed swamp whippet, it very plain to see
the locals call them crocodiles but that’s, between you, and me!
poem by Bob Gibson
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You Bowed Down
I expect youre entitled to know why Im making contact
With acquaintances scattered all over the land
Id promise you now and again that Id honour the contract
If it hadnt crumbled away in my hand
So we broke that vow independently now
But I dont know why you absolutely deny
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
When you first looked away I might say it was really a kindness
It must have hurt you to see how dreams sour
Now they say that justice and love are the next things to blindness
Well youre getting plenty of both of them now
And so you parade where appointments are made
And never meant to be kept
Unless you accept
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You value the burnt amber of falling leaves
And you long to delay
As you feel their breath as they whisper
It wont hurt you now to betray
If you just bow down
And now every time that we meet on the edge of hysteria
Youre helping them sell off some new party line
I remember a time when you would have seemed so superior
Now you say will you please meet this good friend of mine?
So youre in demand as long as you kiss their hand
But all the applause is for their name not yours
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down
You bowed down
You bowed down
You bowed down
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Highway
Heard a bell being toll
Before the break of day
I heard then my name being called
Down that long highway
You dont get long
You dont get long
You dont get long to stay
Kissing me once and Ill be gone
Down that long highway
Spirits call from way beyond
Lord I may not disobey
Spare a thought for the vagabond
Down that long highway
Down that long highway
Down that long highway
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steps On The Road!
capitalism...
has ridden the backs
of the working poor,
both here, and
around the world...
till these backs are broken!
now these backs have faces,
and the faces have names.
we can no longer allow
the few to own the many...
the time of economic slavery
is over! it is finished!
dignity, respect,
and equality....
these are the steps
on the road to tomorrow,
a tomorrow based and
founded on freedom!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In a Disused Graveyard
The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
The verses in it say and say:
"The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay."
So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can't help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?
It would be easy to be clever
And tell the stones: Men hate to die
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.
poem by Robert Frost
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Diggin Up Bones
Verse 1:
Last night I dug your picture out from my old dresser drawer
I set it on the table and I talked to it til four
I read some old love letters right up til the break of bone
Yeah Ive been settlin alone diggin up bones
Verse 2:
Then I went to the jewelery and I found our wedding rings
Ive put mine on my finger and I gave yours a flame
I crossed this lonely bedroom of our recent broken home
Yeah tonight Im settlin alone diggin up bones
Chorus:
Im diggin up bones,Im diggin up bones
Exhuming things that better left alone
Im resurrecting memories of love thats dead and gone
Yeah tonight Im settlin alone diggin up bones
Verse 3:
And I went to the closet and I found some things in there
Like that pretty neglige that I bought you to wear
And I recall how good you looked each time you had it on
Yeah tonight Im settlin alone diggin up bones
Chorus.
Im resurrecting memories of love thats dead and gone
Yeah tonight Im settlin alone diggin up bones
Chorus (til end).
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Universal Traveler
Universal Traveler - Air
(Talkie Walkie; Trans. by Tish)
I know so many
Places in the world
I follow the sun
In my silver plane
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
If you have a look
Outside on the sea
Everything is white
It's so wonderful
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
So far
So far
So far away
I met so many
People in my life
I've got many friends
Who can care for me
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Trust fills everywhere ?
And tomorrow
Is a brand new day
Let's go somewhere else
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
Universal traveler
So far
So far
So far away
So far
So far
So far away
So far
So far
So far away
So far
So far
So far away
song performed by by Air
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honor the Vets
I looked at the grave stones of the veteran dead
Tears filled my eyes as I bowed my head.
All of them had served their country proud
Now they lay in this ground.
They were sons and daughters, mothers and fathers
Sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts
And the list goes on and on.
But how many of them are honored
with a flower or two.
It’s really not hard to do.
They gave their lives so that we can be free
Don’t they deserve some dignity?
This country is standing on the lives of the dead
All of these have died, and many have bled.
Freedom isn’t really free
Other wise these grave stones you would not see.
Isn’t there someone in your family
Who died fighting for liberty?
Let us honor the dead
And thank the living for all that they have given.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Lone Trail
Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it,
Though it lead to glory or the darkness of the pit.
Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid your love good-by;
The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow till you die.
The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried;
You tread on the heels of the many, till you come where the ways divide;
And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is dreary and wan,
Yet you look aslant at the Lone Trail, and the Lone Trail lures you on.
And somehow you're sick of the highway, with its noise and its easy needs,
And you seek the risk of the by-way, and you reck not where it leads.
And sometimes it leads to the desert, and the togue swells out of the mouth,
And you stagger blind to the mirage, to die in the mocking drouth.
And sometimes it leads to the mountain, to the light of the lone camp-fire,
And you gnaw your belt in the anguish of hunger-goded desire.
And sometimes it leads to the Southland, to the swamp where the orchid glows,
And you rave to your grave with the fever, and they rob the corpse for its clothes.
And sometimes it leads to the Northland, and the scurvy softens your bones,
And your flesh dints in like putty, and you spit out your teeth like stones.
And sometimes it leads to a coral reef in the wash of a weedy sea,
And you sit and stare at the empty glare where the gulls wait greedily.
And sometimes it leads to an Arctic trail, and the snows where your torn feet freeze,
And you whittle away the useless clay, and crawl on your hands and knees.
Often it leads to the dead-pit; always it leads to pain;
By the bones of your brothers ye know it, but oh, to follow you're fain.
By your bones they will follow behind you, till the ways of the world are made plain.
Bid good-by to sweetheart, bid good-by to friend;
The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow to the end.
Tarry not, and fear not, chosen of the true;
Lover of the Lone Trail, the Lone Trail waits for you.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Mad Gardener's Song
He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
'At length I realise,' he said,
The bitterness of Life!'
He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
'Unless you leave this house,' he said,
'I'll send for the Police!'
He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
'The one thing I regret,' he said,
'Is that it cannot speak!'
He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus.
'If this should stay to dine,' he said,
'There won't be much for us!'
He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
'Were I to swallow this,' he said,
'I should be very ill!'
He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
'Poor thing,' he said, 'poor silly thing!
It's waiting to be fed!'
He thought he saw an Albatross
That fluttered round the lamp:
He looked again, and found it was
A Penny-Postage Stamp.
'You'd best be getting home,' he said:
'The nights are very damp!'
He thought he saw a Garden-Door
That opened with a key:
He looked again, and found it was
A Double Rule of Three:
'And all its mystery,' he said,
'Is clear as day to me!'
He thought he saw a Argument
That proved he was the Pope:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bar of Mottled Soap.
'A fact so dread,' he faintly said,
'Extinguishes all hope!'
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Lean On Me
Lean on me when you're not strong and
I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long till I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
You Just call on me brother when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that you'd understand
We all need somebody to lean on
Lean on me when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend (I'll be your Friend)
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long till I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
I said For it won't be long till I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Murdered Traveller
When spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.
The fragrant birch above him hung
Her tassels in the sky;
And many a vernal blossom sprung,
And nodded careless by.
The red-bird warbled as he wrought
His hanging nest o'erhead,
And fearless, near the fatal spot,
Her young the partridge led.
But there was weeping far away;
And gentle eyes, for him,
With watching many an anxious day,
Were sorrowful and dim.
They little knew, who loved him so,
The fearful death he met,
When shouting o'er the desert snow,
Unarmed, and hard beset;
Nor how, when round the frosty pole
The northern dawn was red,
The mountain wolf and wildcat stole
To banquet on the dead;
Nor how, when strangers found the bones,
They dressed the hasty bier,
And marked his grave with nameless stones,
Unmoistened by a tear.
But long they looked, and feared, and wept,
Within his distant home;
And dreamed, and started as they slept,
For joy that he was come.
So long they looked; but never spied
His welcome step again,
Nor knew the fearful death he died
Far down that narrow glen.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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One Hallow's Eve
There's a graveyard down, beside the glen
near where the shop man dwells.
The woods are deep and none dare sleep
when the banshees scream and yell.
That's where two brothers lay a trap
to scare their sisters dear.
Their sisters, returning from the dance,
by twilight would be here.
Some bones they'd found
from some dead beast
long buried in the bog.
They'd lit a Candle in the Skull
and practiced moaning loud.
There's a graveyard down, beside the glen
near where the shop man dwells.
The woods are deep and none dare sleep
when the banshees scream and yell.
The girls returning from the dance
found not what you'd suppose:
Some scattered bones, some ashes
and their little brothers' clothes.
The town folk searched the hills for days
For Henry and his brother John
They never found the bodies
that were buried in the bog.
There's a graveyard down, beside the glen
near where the shop man dwells.
The woods are deep and none dare sleep
when the banshees scream and yell.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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In Memoriam
In memoriam
Tribute to Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old Yew, which graspeth at the stones
that name the underlying dead.
Thy fibres net the dreamless head
thy roots are wrapt around the bones.
Old Yew, which graspeth at the stones.
Hale and heart still long after
the aged men and withered crones.
Have ceased their life of love and laughter.
That name the underlying dead.
Fine samples of the mason’s art
in letters finely chisell’ed.
The stones remain though souls depart
Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
the flesh consumed to feed the tree.
Which lives long after they are dead.
Still clothed each year in greenery.
Thy roots are wrapt around the bones
An embrace closer than they knew
when they were wracked by passions moans
and no doubt longer lasting too.
4-Sep-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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To God the Father
To the little, pitiful God I make my prayer,
The God with the long grey beard
And flowing robe fastened with a hempen girdle
Who sits nodding and muttering on the all-too-big throne
of Heaven.
What a long, long time, dear God, since you set the
stars in their places,
Girded the earth with the sea, and invented the day and
night.
And longer the time since you looked through the blue
window of Heaven
To see your children at play in a garden....
Now we are all stronger than you and wiser and more
arrogant,
In swift procession we pass you by.
"Who is that marionette nodding and muttering
On the all-too-big throne of Heaven?
Come down from your place, Grey Beard,
We have had enough of your play-acting!"
It is centuries since I believed in you,
But to-day my need of you has come back.
I want no rose-coloured future,
No books of learning, no protestations and denials--
I am sick of this ugly scramble,
I am tired of being pulled about--
O God, I want to sit on your knees
On the all-too-big throne of Heaven,
And fall asleep with my hands tangled in your grey
beard.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Old Comrades Oct 17th,2012
Some of my old comrades got sick and are now long dead,
Names written on graveyard stones and stories in my head,
At association meetings where all our memories are fading fast,
And I sometimes wonder, how much longer these good times will last.
I'm sorry to even say this but soon enough, I'll be dead,
Though I don't know how, when, where, or why, but it's all in my head,
If we could get death with dignity, it would give me peace of mind,
How many times can our Ottawa establishment decline?
We have no binding referendums so we cannot have change,
And no one up there among the aristocrats will arrange,
And less than half Canadians even bother to vote,
Where is the politician or aristocrat, we should promote?
poem by James Bredin
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Clay Woman
Clay woman, baked too long
Stone cold, deep red, stand
Clay woman, heat too high,
Brittle with the remnant demand
Too long in the kiln
Not set at bake but sear
Scorched beauty remains,
But not a breath be near
Can't breathe too hard,
Clay woman may turn to dust
Can't look too long
For clay woman may combust,
And above all else,
Do not touch her heart,
Her back will break,
Her wounds will smart,
Clay woman, baked too long
All hope and joy abstains,
Clay woman, heat too high
Can my tears salvage my remains?
poem by Eowyn Aurora
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The monk with long pretty hair
I love this life,
Sworn to serve the poor,
My body honed to perfection,
With the life style,
The material skill,
The difficult chores,
And the blessing our the lord Buddha,
I will always honor him,
For he gave me the greatest gift of all,
My long pretty hair.
The others start to object,
Claiming my head needs shaving,
There just jealous,
I wear the orange robe,
What more do they want?
I’m always on time,
The best in my class,
I bet that’s why they hate me,
Because who could hate,
My long pretty hair.
Everyday I realise,
My hair is all I care for,
I made my excuses,
I need to be clean,
Because cleanliness is holiness,
Suddenly there’s not enough hours in the day,
I cut the training,
And fall behind on my chores,
To stare at perfection in the mirror,
My long pretty hair.
The Masters are angry at me preaching,
That my hair sets me apart,
As indeed it does,
I see the jealousy in every eye,
They hate me because I'm perfect,
Why should I shave my head?
Am I not the universe’s chosen?
Above all the others,
So what if I’m the better with,
My long pretty hair.
I’m banished from my home,
But that’s ok,
They left me a mirror,
Which I stare into all day,
I found my true love,
Better than my old life,
Helping and healing and fighting,
I rebel against my order,
Despite all I lose I still have,
My long pretty hair.
On the execution block I stand,
In all my glory,
They took my mirror away,
And dared to touch my hair,
Who can blame me for hurting them?
They deserved it,
And now I stand,
Proud and tall,
With my hair flowing free,
Caressed by the breeze
My long pretty hair.
And I now hang by the gate,
By my long pretty hair,
Final glory for everyone to see.
My long pretty hair.
poem by David Whittingham
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