Related quotes: a richard cory can make...

Richard Cory

a richard cory can make a home in us
no man is an island to life and death
and everything in between
now and then we are driven to the edge

the office, the school, the parish everywhere
a Cory haunts with the blood of his thoughts
flowers shrivel in the dungeon of his depression

tragedies are hatched in the cold nest of humanity

the face curves a mask to help the real selves live
the mouth plays traunt to create a mirage

a man walks a smile with ghosts feasting on his miles
there they patiently wait for the real catch of his traps

a friend laid himself on the tracks and
a train tore through him

regrets like a steam engine rumble through the years
they look for answers behind the shroud
Cory had sewn stringing, longing for
the buttons he never got all his days

we are tortoises - as a reptile readied to have him
whole feet, head, legs, entrails, blood and all -
in the darkness of our shells

the hassle of life clouds life like a calm river starving crocodiles lurk

we cant even see whether it is their tails or heads
slashing, lashing, splashing their way to us
raining a slush of hot blooded foamy death

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Richard Cory

They say that richard cory owns one half of this whole town,
With political connections to spread his wealth around.
Born into society, a bankers only child,
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style.
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life Im living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard cory.
The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes:
Richard cory at the opera, richard cory at a show.
And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht!
Oh, he surely must be happy with everything hes got.
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life Im living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard cory.
He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch,
And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much,
So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read:
Richard cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head.
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life Im living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard cory.

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Richard Cory

They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town
With political connections to spread his wealth around
Born into society, a banker's only child
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes
Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show
And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht!
Oh he surely must be happy with everything he's got
But I, I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch
And they were grateful for his patronage and they thanked him very much
So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read:
"Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head"
But I, I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory

song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Richard Cory

Say that richard cory
Owns one-half of this here town
With political connections
To spread his wealth around
Born into society, a banker's only child
He had everything a man could want
Power, grace and style
But i, i work in his factory
And i curse the life that i'm livin'
And i curse my poverty
And i wish that i could be
Yeah, hey i wish that i could be
Lord, i wish that i could be, richard cory
The paper's print his picture
Everywhere he go
Richard cory at the opera
Richard cory at the show
And the rumours of his parties
And orgies on his yacht
Heart and soul he must be happy
With everything that he has got
But i, i work in his factory
And i curse the life i'm livin'
And i curse my poverty
And i wish that i could be
Yeah, wish that i could be
Lord, i wish that i could be, richard cory
He freely give to charity and had the common touch
They were grateful for his patronage
And thanked him very much
So my mind was filled with wonder
When the evenin' headlines read
That richard cory went home last night
And put a bullet through his head, hu
But i, i, work in his factory
And i don't dig the life i'm livin'
I curse my poverty
And i wish that i could be
And i wish that i could be
Well, i wish that i could be, richard cory
Yeah, i wish that i could be
Lord, i wish that i could be
Yeah, i wish that i could be
Yes, oh i wish that i could be
Just like richard cory

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Richard Cory

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
'Good-morning,' and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Live Like That

You say you want to live for today
Before today is lost
But when the returns come in
Do they balance the cost
I can see your four wheels spin
I can smell smoke from the blaze
But we arent moving anyway
If youre seeing past rose colored shades
If you live like that
Dont look back
cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
I said dont look back
I see it all around
People want it good and want it fast
As long as it moves you for the moment
It doesnt matter if it lasts
But our love is sweet
It can drive me to my knees
But we still got troubles you and i
Seeing the forest for the trees
If you live like that
Dont look back
cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
I said dont look back
Ive had enough of these two lives
You say youll give to me
Ive had enough of your freedom
You know I want to feel free
Ive had enough gospel
I could spin my head around
I said if youre so caught up in heaven
You dont even see the ground
If you live like that
Dont look back
cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks, baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks, baby
I said dont look back
All we need is to take time
(slow down, new way)
See tomorrow in plain sight
(new dawn, new day)
New horizon in plain view
And were oiling up the engine
To put you straight on through
If you live like that
Dont look back
Oh no cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
I said dont look back
Blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
I said dont look back
Oh theres blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
Dont look back
Dont look back
If you live like that

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Depression Is

Depression is when your sad and alone

Depression is when you can't do it anymore

Depression is when all you do is cry non stop and no one cares

Depression is when all you think about is ending your life and giving up

Depression is a life full of hell and heartache

Depression is not a good way to live but when you deal with it all your life like I do it just makes your life miserable and a hell hole

Depression makes you want to cut up your arms, legs, and whole body and watch the blood pour out to make it feel good in life

Everything I go through since I was born makes me have depression and only gets worse as life goes on

Sometimes I get so sick of the depression it just makes me want to end it all and wonder if i'm better off dead

In general depression will never go away, you'll have it all your life regardless

poem by Krystal Shearer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Las Palabras De Amor

Guilt stains on my pillow
Blood on ny terraces
Torsos in my closet
Shadows from my past live is real
Life is real, life is real, so real
Sleeping is my leisure
Waking up in a minefield
Dream is just a pleasure dome
Love is a roulette wheel - life is real
Life is real, life is real, oh yeah
Success is my breathing space
I brought it on myself
I will price it
I will cash it
I can take it or leave it
Loneliness is my hiding place
Breastfeeding myself
What more can I say
I have swallowed the bitter pill
I can taste it, I can taste it
Life is real, life is real, life is real
Music will be my mistres
Loving like a whore
Lennon is a genius
Living in every pore
Life is real, life is real, life is real, so real
Life is cruel
Life is a bitch
Life is real - so real

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real Life Living

Real life is walking back and dreaming
Real life is entering the picture and achieving
Real life is a fight

To fight with words for swords
And yes swords for words
Here are worlds of sores

This soaring world
Soaring low and high
Swirling to and fro
Mixing sky with dreams
Mixing eyes
Mixing creams with dyes and dies
Paints dripping and dried
Gripping pages grind

Gripping life as a vice death
And death is hate
And hates rest
We wrestle this world upon conception
'till death

And death and life are
Chasing tails
Life is real
While death is chasing tales
And death is really
A bugging issue
Real life realing death
Into sure casting fire
And dreams into life really
Killing death and real life living

poem by Deci Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Island In The Sea

there is this island
a very small island where i once escaped
away from the death that the crowd has inflicted

there is this lonely island
where the only house i have is just an old chair
and throughout the nine full moons i simply sit there gazing

looking at the small tree the leaf of which is only one
its veins too tiny for my eyes to love

it gets lonely here most of the time but i owe all my life to this very small island
it saved me once from the death inflicted on me by the crowd

my body becomes a geisha of gratitude
my mouth becomes the kiss of the slave woman to the nth power of Abram

i live in this island and on the last dropp of the day
i become forever

there will be another north star in the heavens
and it shall have my own name

there is this island shaped like a heart and it sheds real blood because it is real
i am but a white grain of sand

perhaps, but i have become this grain of gratitude and i have become a star
forever hanging on the heavens.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quiet Steam

Released as b-side of digging in the dirt single, 1992.
Stand back
Stand back
What are those dogs doing, sniffing at my feet
Theyre onto something, pickin up, pickin up
This heat
This heat
Give me steam
How you feel can make it real
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as anything you see
Get a life in this dreamers dream
You know your culture from your trash
You know your plastic from your cash
When I lose sight of the track
You know the way back
But I know you
You know your stripper from your paint
You know your sinner from your saint
Whenever heavens doors are shut
You get them open, but
I know you
Give me steam
And how you feel can make it real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as anything you see
Get a life in this dreamers dream
You know your green from your red
You know the quick from the dead
So much better than the rest
You think youve been blessed
But I know you
You know your ladder from your snake
You know the throttle from the brake
You know your straight line from the curve
Youve got a lot of nerve
But I know you
Give me steam
And how you feel can make it real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as any place youve been
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Oh yeah, I need steam
Feel your steam around me
Turning up the heat
I start to dream aloud
You move my hands and feet
Wont you step into this cloud
Of steam
This steam
Give me steam
How you feel can make it real
Real as anything youve seen
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Give me steam
How you feel can make it so real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Help me yeah
Comin alive
In your steam
Comin alive
In your steam
Comin alive

song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Real Life

Suzanne divorced her husband
She got the keys and the car and the home
But her friends were really his friens
No one stops by to see her much any more
So one night, she goes back down to
The old haunts
That once upon a time were her own
She didnt know nobody out there no
More
And the whole experience just made her
Feel so old
She says
I want to live the real life
I want to life my life close to the bone
Just because im middle-aged that
Dont mean
I want to sit around my house and watch tv
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
Jackson jackson was a good kid
He had four years of college
And a bachelors degree
Started workin, when he was 21
Got fed up and quit
When he was 43
He said, my whole life
Ive done, what I supposed to do
Now id like to maybe do something
For myself
And just as soon, I figure out what
That is
You can bet your live
Im gonna give it hell
He says
I want to live the real life
I want to life my life close to the bone
Just because im middle-aged that
Dont mean
I want to sit around my house and watch tv
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
I guess, it dont matter, how old you
Are
Or how old one lives to be
I guess, it boils down to what we did
With our lives
And how we deal with our own
Destinies
But something happens
When you reach a certain age
Particularly to to those ones, that are
Young at heart
Its a lonely proposition when you
Realize
That theres less days in front of the
Horse
Than riding in the back of this cart
I say
I want to live the real life
I want to life my life close to the bone
Just because im middle-aged that
Dont mean
I want to sit around my house and watch tv
I want the real life
I want to live the real life.

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fascination

Death fascinates;
Life can be cruel.
Death is my morbid but most-loved obsession.
Life is hard-
I am out of control.
Death is my relationship to reality-
Life is not fair.
Death is an entity of beauty, though
Life is strange…
Death is veracity, although it can be
The facet of my delusions-
I live my life while
Thoughts of death are so often invasive.
Death is mysterious, and
Life is a river refracting light-
Death is dark but intriguing.
Life is amazing.
Death in turn- is amazing as it can be.
I live my life in a dream world.
Death is indeed mysterious, although-
Life
Is
Stranger…

poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Story Of My Mask

By day I am undercover.
Nobody knows the real me.
My heart is in a tangle
Mixed between my life and him.
Some how they don't mix.
Is it because the real me has not shown itself?
The real me has hidden away behind the shadowy clouds.

By night the mask comes off.
The shadowy clouds disappear.
There are no mixed feelings.
My life combines with his.
Everybody knows the real me.
My heart is untangled.
It's straight and full of love.
My mask is lost.
The weather is sunshine all the time.
There are no clouds.
So the real me can't hide away.

By midnight the mask reappears on my face.
The sunlight disappears.
Again nobody knows the real me.
My heart is messuped up.
Again with the mixed feelings.
This is so confusing.
The real me is slipping away.
Slowly but surely is the old saying.

By day I am a different woman

By night I am me

poem by Makayla Straight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elizabeth Childers

Dust of my dust,
And dust with my dust,
O, child who died as you entered the world,
Dead with my death!
Not knowing Breath, though you tried so hard,
With a heart that beat when you lived with me,
And stopped when you left me for Life.
It is well, my child. For you never traveled
The long, long way that begins with school days,
When little fingers blur under the tears
That fall on the crooked letters.
And the earliest wound, when a little mate
Leaves you alone for another;
And sickness, and the face of Fear by the bed;
The death of a father or mother;
Or shame for them, or poverty;
The maiden sorrow of school days ended;
And eyeless Nature that makes you drink
From the cup of Love, though you know it’s poisoned;
To whom would your flower-face have been lifted?
Botanist, weakling? Cry of what blood to yours?—
Pure or foul, for it makes no matter,
It’s blood that calls to our blood.
And then your children—oh, what might they be?
And what your sorrow? Child! Child!
Death is better than Life!

poem by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The River of Blood

It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.

poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There You were

There you were

You’re always laughing at me
Is that how life’s supposed to be?
Each night I cry
Don’t tell me you don’t know why

But I rose up to live once more
From the grave of my depression.
You were too blind to see my real worth
But I lived again

There you were abusing me
Torturing my life inside out
I still don’t know why
Is that how life’s supposed to be?

But I rose up to live once more
From the grave of my depression
You were too blind to see my real worth
But I lived again

A day won’t go by
When I think of you
How cruel you were to me
And how I became stronger
Day by day
From the thoughts of you
Giving and not taking
From me, for me

And I rose up to live once more
From the grave of my depression
You were too blind to see my real worth
And I lived again

Now you are helping me
That’s how life’s supposed to be
There you are being a friend
But is it true until the end?

And you raised me up to live once more
From the grave of my depression
You re-gained your sight and saw my worth
And you lived again

There you were

poem by Lyrael Myrna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red.

Red,
The color of blood,
Red,
The color of my tortured bud..
The color of my rose,
The color of my focus,
The color of my arm,
The blood streaming,
Down
Down
I pull my blade upto the little spot I dug,
Make it deeper and longer...

Let's all just start over again.
RED
RED
The color of my broken hearted soul,
RED
RED
The bleeding that I suffice in all words.

In all words.

poem by Cory Burton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is This Island

there is this island
a very small island where i once escaped
away from the death that the crowd has inflicted

there is this lonely island
where the only house i have is just an old chair
and throughout the nine full moons i simply sit there gazing

looking at the small tree the leaf of which is only one
its veins too tiny for my eyes to love

it gets lonely here most of the time but i owe all my life to this very small island
it saved me once from the death inflicted on me by the crowd

my body becomes a geisha of gratitude
my mouth becomes the kiss of the slave woman to the nth power of Abram

i live in this island and on the last dropp of the day
i become forever

there will be another north star in the heavens
and it shall have my own name

there is this island shaped like a heart and it sheds blood because it is real
i am but a white grain of sand

perhaps, but i have become this grain of gratitude and i have become a star
forever hanging on the heavens.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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