In the Name of God
It has to be said
The streets are littered with our dead:
They talked and laughed
And then they bled,
The streets are littered with our dead.
All in the name of the Godhead.
It has to be said,
They talked and laughed
And now they're dead.
The streets are littered with our dead.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Related quotes
Egyptian Martyrs' Blood Peace Protest Spilt
medical sources
said
at least
five protesters
had
been killed
1,030 wounded
like battered leaves
littered streets
in bloodstained
Cairo protest defiant
thirteen were killed
in Suez six in Alexandria
a teenager was shot
dead in Port Said
al-Jazeera reported
martyrs' blood peace protest
spilt to dislodge a tyrant
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Dead In The Wombs
those same children
who died in the waters
that swallowed Atlantis....
those same children,
starving 'neath Africa's sun....
dead from the bombings
in Iraq, Afghanistan, and soon Iran....
their bodies thrown into dumpsters
here in the United States....
dead on the borders,
dead in the oil filled waters,
dead on the cocaine streets,
dead in the prisons...
dead in the colleges,
dead in the unemployment lines....
dead on the picket lines,
dead, handcuffed, and beaten....
dying, and dead, world crazy spinning...
as the 'light of the world'
sputters, and goes out....
dead in the wombs of the
homeless, hopeless, and forgotten...
dead by our hands!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Power To The Music
Hey people were victimized & circumsized
Crossed the line of no return
The critics say we devestate
Socialites just masturbate
Wont the losers ever learn?
Who said musics dead in the streets?
Dont know what they talk about
They gotta put a bullet in my head
If they want to keep me down
Power to the music in the streets
Mothers tell their sons of cyanide & suicide
They blame it on the devils tongue
Suck me like a parasite, military 3rd reich
You book-burning bastards wasting blood
Who said musics dead in the streets?
Dont know what they talk about
I want my music waking up the dead
Dont tell me to turn it down
Power to the music in the streets
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Or Alive
There in the shadows, looks like a hand
Without its owner, to give it a command
Its got a purpose but I dont know what it is
Im in trouble
There in the streets, looks like a man
But something wrong that I dont understand
His eyes are open but he dont see a thing
His skin is peeling off, his bones are sticking out
Im getting scared
Oh my God (is it dead? )
Is it living? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
(is it dead? ), is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
Hiding in the cupboards, like little mice
Hiding in the frigerator, that isnt nice
Its not an animal, it dont have legs
No one else can see it
It moves so fast, corner of my eye
Look again its gone, its hiding
Wont somebody help me, doesnt anybody care?
It waits so patiently, for me to lose my guard
Im getting scared
Is it dead, is it
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead or alive
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead, is it
I remember there was a time
When dead and buried meant just that
Underneath the cold dark ground
Things stay put!
Oh them bones they make them bodies walk
Them bones, them bones
If they could only talk!
Is it dead (fade)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Returning Home
In the smoke I smell
Dead animals,
Dead neighbors, friends, and family members.
In the mist I see
All those who were once alive.
Behind me
Our town stands
Burned down to ashes;
Only skeletons remain.
This war has taken away so much.
In the rubble on the streets
I see
The way things once were.
Happy homes
Filled with laughter
Children playing
Stickball in the street.
Now
So much has been taken
Away from me.
We find bodies
In the yards, in the wells,
In our fields and on the streets;
Dead animals,
Dead neighbors, friends, and family members.
The war is over
And we are back.
To bury the dead,
To give hope to the young,
To start again.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody Dance (The Dance Of The Dead)
As the sun sinks upon the horizon,
As the dark night creeps in,
The dead dance.
On the streets they roam,
Silent,
Alone.
Everybody dances,
The saints and the sinners,
Everybody dances,
To the sound of the rhythm,
Everybody dances,
The dance of the dead.
The dance of the dead goes on,
And on,
Never stops,
Never slows,
Time does not matter to the dead.
Everybody dances,
The poor and the rich,
Everybody dances,
To the cries to the babies,
Everybody dances,
The dance of the dead.
As your time goes up,
The dead dance into your room,
Filled with silent movements,
They twirl with grace,
And style
And ease.
They reach out their hands,
And you take it,
And join the dance of the dead.
Everybody dance,
The young and the old,
Everybody dance,
The music is playing,
Everybody dance,
To the dance of the dead.
C’mon,
Everybody dance,
Soldiers and lovers,
Oh,
Everybody dance,
To sound they cry,
So,
Everybody dance,
To the dance of the dead,
The dance of the dead.
Oh,
Everybody dances,
Because the dance never stops.
6/05/06
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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Rondel.
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear;
The passers-by as ghosts appear,
Or things whose souls have taken flight
As they drift by in the weird light,
Each on its shadowy career —
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear.
A dead town were less sad a sight
With its dead men and women here,
So one might see them passing near
Beyond the death of love's delight!
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Dead Dog
I saw him walking
down the street
dragging dead dog
behind him.
As he saw me
he stopped.
“Dog dead” he said,
pointing at carcass in tow.
A noose around its neck,
entrails exposed,
dead tongue awry,
lifeless eyes
covered with
thin film of dust
staring
at rising globe of fire
in disbelief.
“It happens” I replied.
He sat down,
I lit a cigarette,
offered him one.
“Dog dead”
he said again;
giving me another
chance to marvel
at his God like
insight.
“Your dog? ”
I enquirered,
though not
really caring.
“dog dead”
he answered,
grinning.
“ I take away”
I let it slip.
Got up,
tipped my hat,
wished him
“a nice day”
As life
somehow
kept on
happening
there
and elsewhere:
headstrong,
head on,
I dove
into the sun
lit streets.
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Dead And Broken
Too many things I've never spoken
I'm not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
That'll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
How many different faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
I'm dying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
Sorry to see that you're underestimated lately
I'd rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dublin
The children play in the streets, they say
The children play in the streets
While the ships dock fast in Dublin Bay,
The children play in the streets.
Och aye, the blarney blunderbuss,
He's corked, and who's to blame?
'Tain't that his wee son with a pint,
Too soon to walk the same?
Across Ha'penny Bridge his Molly
Bends to scratch for coal,
And one last fire to celebrate:
Today she quits the dole.
But what of Barry? What of Shane?
Who'll give the tykes their bread,
With Pap in one dyke stone-cold drunk,
In the other Mam stone-cold dead?
The children play in the streets, they say
The children play in the streets
While the ships dock fast in Dublin Bay,
The children play in the streets.
A Recollection
MY father's friend came once to tea.
He laughed and talked. He spoke to me.
But in another week they said
That friendly pink-faced man was dead.
' How sad . .' they said, 'the best of men . .'
So I said too, 'How sad '; but then
Deep in my heart I thought with pride,
'I know a person who has died.'
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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Apocalyptic Moon
I asked the moon,
pale and dreary,
Where in your honey-dripping shine they sprout;
These blood-sniffing beasts,
Nocturnal ever?
Whispered unto me then the moon,
A melancholy, an unlikely alibi;
Nay, not me, they were littered in shadows,
That dripped unto their veins thus conceit and poison.
Nay, not me, they were littered in shadows,
out of my grip, away from my shine.
I asked again the moon,
pale and dreary,
Laden with apprehension
And hope so frail:
O' Moon! What do they see in you then,
These blood-sniffing beasts,
Littered in shadows,
Upon this mirror spotless and heavenly;
When I see beauty and dream and beyond?
Said the moon,
Now animated and brightened:
It is the justice I show,
Apocalypse they see.
poem by Bhanu Padmo
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We Cannot Save The Dead
WE CANNOT SAVE THE DEAD
We cannot save the dead,
Though we perfect our forms of remembrance-
The dead are the dead forever dead-
And we will too one day be among them
Dead forever dead-
Despite the way those left behind strive to remember.
Dead forever dead-
Unless God decide
In some way we cannot understand
That the individual human being
Is as infinitely precious
As those who love them here
know them to be.
-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Saints In Hell
They laughed at their gods
And fought them in vain
So he turned his back on them
And left them in pain
Now here come the saints
With their banners held high
Each one of them martyrs
Quite willing to die
Wake the dead, the saints are in hell
Wake the dead, theyve come for the bell
Cover your fists
Razor your spears
Its been our possession
For 8,000 years
Fetch the scream eagles
Unleash the wild cats
Set loose the king cobras
And blood sucking bats
Wake the dead, the saints are in hell
Wake the dead, theyve come for the bell
We are saints
In hell
We are saints
In hell
Were going down
Into the fire
Were going down
Into the fire
The streets run with blood from the mass mutilation
As carnage took toll for the bell
Abattoir, abattoir, mon dieu quelle horreur
For a time is was like second hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
The battle is over, the saints are alive
How can we all thank you, we felt so despised
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good night
Is a broken street
The one cut like suicidal veins
Or arteries streets
Someone said
‘It’s hard to find meaningful good conversation in this town’
Others were silent
Rocking their chairs under so much something inside
Or against the graffiti wall
Some were there in an institution
Some were there in the parks
A santa smiled merry commericial christmass smile
Oh which need oh which we need so much
A painter nuts splashed his paint across the sky
Saying ‘now I see it’s good
Now I can surf this sky lol’
An art of dealer was crying his death
‘Let’s get out of here
Go some place with
What money we have
Buy some toys for the children
Some cookies for the grannies who don’t cook
Or a drink for anybody around
Hey hey you would you like a drink, yeeeah
Should you see a teddy bear seller
(It’s the one who hops the streets and ducks and bears for you
Here is some money buy him a chocolate
Because he might be the best file of childhood dates
Let’s try let’s go
The streets are cut down dead corners
Which speak with their central brain
But the cellar’s closed down dead too
Let’s get out of here
Soon the only strong enough to take this will be
Jesus Christ
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I Walk These Streets Alone
I walk these streets alone why U ask, because that's all i know and the reason i'm so ignorant is because him always on the go
I walk these streets alone meeting customer after customer getting in and out of random cars
I walk these streets alone as if the streets are empty as i go on my devilish duty.
I walk these streets alone clueless to the danger surrounding me, as if him invisible to any danger.
I walk the streets alone as if every person i meet sees me as a stranger.
I walk these streets alone, as sad as it may seem i prefer my own company but at times i still get lonely.
I walk these streets alone but don't feel sorry for me, for i know what i'm getting myself into. and i know the consequences if i get caught
I walk these streets alone regardless of what I've been taught...
poem by Leon Scott
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Dead & Broken
Too many things Ive never spoken
Im not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
Thatll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
How many faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
Im dying
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Sorry to see that youre underestimated lately
Id rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Many People Act As If God Is Dead
Too many people act as if God is dead, as if hope is dead. Just watch the movies, the news, really look at how people treat each other in the office, on the streets. So much pretense, hostility, arrogance, silent killings, so little kindness, patients, appreciation, understanding love and generosity.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Dead Guy Stickers
In the USA,
They want to put dead guy pictures on cigarette packs.
With that brilliant logic in mind, I say put dead guy stickers on:
car windshields(dead guys in wrecks)
pistol and rifle handles (dead guys shot)
marriage licenses (dead spouses)
hamburger and hot dog wrappers (dead fat guys)
pies, cakes (more dead fat guys)
bathroom doors (thousands of dead guys in bathrooms every year)
bicycles (road kill dead guys)
fire places (burnt dead guys)
swimming pools (drown dead guys)
every electrical outlet (fried dead guys)
air plane tickets (dead passenger guys)
the beach (shark bit dead guys)
cities (shot dead guys)
air (blue dead guys)
fish (poisoned dead guys)
motorcycles (more road kill dead guys)
scarfs (strangled dead guys)
football helmets (brain dead guys)
hot tubs (more drowned dead guys)
and so on.
Just about everything can kill you, such as:
Mothers (dead baby guys plus dead fathers)
Fathers (dead baby guys plus dead mothers)
Police(multiple dead guys and chicks)
Drugs (multiple dead guys and chicks)
and so on.
Once everything has a dead guy sticker on it,
You've been warned and the world will be safer, right?
It shows we care, right?
poem by Richard Jarboe
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