Graveyard
I drowned in the mud of past
Marsh that pushes me to the bottom slowly
To the life without new breath
Flower and stone, have you buried me well?
Soil and tears, just bring me something
I'm no longer chasing the sun I wait
And the rain long doesn't come
I'm lying in the white mass, green grass
Flower and stone, there is nothing to show
Soil and tears, blackeyes my funeral
Graveyard, graveyard
Give me tender, give me a kiss
Before it's too late, like miss
Graveyard, graveyard
My life's gone like a falling leaf
But at least I lived, for my belief
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Related quotes
The Graveyard In The Sky Ii
Dad's, mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers, brother, sisters, aunt, and Uncles died at their home here on earth some time ago
And then they were all buried in the graveyard in the sky
But there in the sky nobody steals the grave in the graveyard
Also there are trees in the graveyard in the sky and flowers inthe garden
But the road that takes to the graveyard in the sky is paved
And sometimes you will see the memonights in their horse carriages Passing by
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Graveyard In The Sky
Dad's, mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers, brother, sisters, aunt, and Uncles died at their home here on earth some time ago
And then they were all buried in the graveyard in the sky
But their in the sky nobody steals the grave in the graveyard
Also there are trees in the graveyard in the sky and flowers inthe garden
But the road that takes to the graveyard in the sky is paved
And sometimes you will see the memonights in their horse carriages Passing by
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Life in Winter's Graveyard
Walking down a muddy road
In the throes of December
Heaving through the decay
Of Spring's now frozen embers
Is there life in Winter's graveyard?
Frozen trees bereft of leaves
Stand upright in frosted death
Fields once ripe and lush with fruit
Lay still without the Summer's breath
Is there life in Winter's graveyard?
Soggy soil sloshing below my feet
Autumn's leaves have been swept away
And while I march on viciously
My eyes behold only death and gray
Is there life in Winter's graveyard?
Then comes a patch of greenery
A lush, though simple, paradise
I stop to gaze at the loveliness
Beheld before beauty-starved eyes
There is life in Winter's graveyard.
A patch of three-leaved charms
Circling the base of a withered tree
I gaze at this Springtime green
Surrounded by December's villainy.
There is life in Winter's graveyard.
Though Winter's tomb encases
Our world in a carcass' masquerade
This patch of sought-for greenery
Removes the masks from Death's charade
There is life in Winter's graveyard.
poem by Josephine J.W
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Jonas & Ezekial
I left my anger in a river running highway 5
New hampshire, vermont, bordered by
College farms, hubcaps, and falling rocks
Voices in the woods and the mountaintops
I used to search for reservations and native lands
Before I realized everywhere I stand
There have tribal feet running wild as fire
Some past life sister of my desire
Jonas and ezekial hear me now
Steady now and dont come out
Im not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose turn is it anyway?
Anyway?
Now when I was young my people taught me well
Give back what you take or youll go to hell
Its not the devils land, you know its not that kind
Every devil I meet becomes a friend of mine
Every devil I meet is an angel in disguise
Jonas and ezekial hear me now
Steady now and dont come out
Im not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose angel are you anyway?
White - chain - rope - fear
(hush my darling)
Be still my dear
A bullet in the head, now hes dead
A friend of a friend, someone said
He was an activist with a very short life
I think theres a lesson here - he died without a fight
In the war over land where the world began
Prophecies say its where the world will end
But theres a tremor growing in our backyard
Fear in our heads, fear in our hearts
Prophets in the graveyard
Jonas and ezekial hear me now
Steady now and dont come out
Im not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose turn is it anyway?
Jonas and ezekial hear me now
Steady now I feel your ghost about
Im not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose angel are you anyway?
I said theres prophets in the graveyard
(now I walk in beauty)
Prophets in the graveyard
(beauty is before me)
Prophets in the graveyard
(beauty is behind me)
(above and below me)
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Ghosts In The Graveyard
Two ghosts in a graveyard
Two stones in a row they are
Two lost in a blue car
Can't boast about who we are
New streets and iron bars kept behind the walls
Two ghosts in a graveyard
Down on a corner
A breeze of autumn
There's no tomorrow
The past forgotten
Well who writes the poem then hides it
Who lights the fuse then smothers it
Again
song performed by by Nine Days from Three
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Six More Miles
(g) oh the rain is slowly fallin,
And my (c) heart is so (g) sore,
Six more (c) miles and leave my (g) darlin,
Never on this earth to (d7) meet no (g) more.
Chorus
(g) six more miles (c) to the (g) graveyard,
Six more miles, long and (d7) sad,
Six more (g) miles and (c) leave my (g) darlin,
Leave the best (c) friend, I ever (g) had.
(g) oh I hear the train a-comin,
Bringin my (c) darlin back (g) home,
Six more (c) miles, to the (g) graveyard,
And Ill be left here (d7) all a- (g) lone.
Repeat chorus
This verse not on record, but in both early song books:
Left her in that lonely church yard,
Left my darlin alone,
Now Im sad, my heart is cryin,
As I wander thru life alone.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Graveyard Train
On the highway, thirty people lost their lives.
On the highway, thirty people lost their lives.
Well, I had some words to holler, and my rosie took a ride.
In the moonlight, see the greyhound rollin on.
In the moonlight, see the greyhound rollin on.
Flyin through the crossroads, rosie ran into the hound.
For the graveyard, thirty boxes made of bone.
For the graveyard, thirty boxes made of bone.
Mister undertaker, take this coffin from my home.
In the midnight, hear me cryin out her name.
In the midnight, hear me cryin out her name.
Im standin on the railroad, waitin for the graveyard train.
On the highway, thirty people turned to stone.
On the highway, thirty people turned to stone.
Oh, take me to the station, cause Im number thirty-one.
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Duty
ı t is two days or three
since with soil we covered thee
we gathered here
in your mother city
from all over the country
may be the unı verse
to perform our last duty
in fact you are doı ng your last duty
perfectly
you gathered friiends together
after so many years
a peculı ar thing too
just notified me
they have cut the lonely poplar
that shoot
from the root
which were a friend to me
my friend in winter
in my loneliness..lonelihood
in my all days on foot
but the plum tree
side by side
very very oldy
has blossomed already
adorned with green leaves
with white flowers as bridals
what a peculı ar thing too
lı fe goes on as always
after the death's gloom
like these
even of my relatives
and dear friends
this year
spring has come a little bit earlier
it is may be
two days or three
we gave to the soı l thee
life for me
a turmoı l though
how many beloved
ı have entombed
..buried
ı do not know
ı cannot remember
waiting his turn
someday someone may be me
will be buried too
you lie in a mosque yard
in the coffin covered with our flag
crimson and white
wi th in the middle a crescent
on a white marble stand-bier
your son
your grown up son tall watching
your wife and daughter in black weeds
weeping
first the noon prayer
and then
the funeral prayer in the graveyard
imam asked for the acquı ttal of claim
we have no claim on you
farewell my friend
that is life they say
what we can say too
the last order from above has come
we are accustomed to these day by day
iti is two days or three
20th march 2010
a new life is beginning for me
without you
fires burn in me
may be the new spring
the river sakar will flow without you
the bungalow
near the sinop black sea will miss you
it is two days or there
since we buried you in soil
life is toll moil and pell mell
and turmoil
so long
farewell
my friend
we will miss you
how can we bear this turmoil
without you
never knowing
we are still waiting for you
each day
as the next day you will rise be coming
good my friend..so long
poem by Metin Sahin
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neath A Cold Gray Tomb Of Stone
Passing by a lonesome graveyard
Everything I love is gone
Weeping as they lay my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
In this world i'm left to wander
With no one to call my own
While my precious darling's sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Out there in that lonesome graveyard
She is sleeping all alone
And I burried my heart with her
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Skies above are dark and stormy
All the sunshine,all is gone
For the while my love is sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
My heart is dead and yet i'm living
Traveling through this world alone
I wish that I was with my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Die In Vain
When they lie me in my grave
Will I had done a lot of living
Or will the people just look and say
That I had done a lot of grieving.
And on my tomb what will be wrote
Will it just be a name,
With words that many had spoke
Saying that I had died in vain.
Through a graveyard as I stroll
I read many a lonesome name
That's all I see that's all that is wrote
I guess too, they died in vain.
No living for them had they done
No feats of greatness have they achieved
So now they are hid beneath the sun
As though they never had lived.
A name on marble a heart with no soul
It equals to about the same
For one does die, the other survives
And they both just lived in vain.
A tarnished tomb I do see
Forgotten by the years gone by
So beside it I will kneel and pray
For is that how I will die.
Then the graveyard I do leave
Mournful, bitter and shamed
Now no longer will I sit and grieve
For I WILL NOT! , die in vain.
So when they lay me in the ground
I now know what the people will say
They all will make a joyful sound
While saying, I lived and enjoyed everyday.
poem by Randy McClave
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A Silly Song
'O HEART, my heart!' she said, and heard
His mate the blackbird calling,
While through the sheen of the garden green
May rain was softly falling,--
Aye softly, softly falling.
The buttercups across the field
Made sunshine rifts of splendor:
The round snow-bud of the thorn in the wood
Peeped through its leefage tender,
As the rain came softly falling.
'O heart, my heart!' she said and smiled,
'There's not a tree of the valley,
Or a leaf I wis which the rain's soft kiss
Freshens in yonder alley,
Where the drops keep ever falling,--
'There's not a foolish flower i' the grass,
Or bird through the woodland calling,
So glad again of the coming of rain
As I of these tears now falling,--
These happy tears down falling.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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For The Moment, This Is Love
Let’s tour graveyard sites
On lonely nights,
Kiss like death
Each other’s breath,
You can bite my skin
Until it tears and bleeds,
There’s a certain amount
Of depravity
That has to mingle with life
Before the final
Closing of the eyes.
Baby, you and I
Are not afraid
Of dark desires
Nor a sprinkling
Of healthy violence…
I’ve got your safe words
Memorized…we’ll survive.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Loneliness When The Dark Brings Tears
Loneliness
When the Dark Brings Tears
...........................................
I gazed out toward
the cold graveyard
and wondered if
she was peaceful
this night?
Wondered if her eternal sleep
brought to her nightmares
she could not fight?
My eyes gazed from
that cemetery
down
to my
writing pad
and I did frown
upon remembering
the time she placed
her hand in mine
A delicate flower
so very sublime
The Raven calls
and his echo is clear
'Come to the grave
where I am near
Come look down.'
he seems to say
perched on that stone
monument
where she lay
'For your grief
is strong
but weep not
see
Have no fear of
mortality
For a message I bring
to you this night
for death
is but
a long
long flight
My darling dear
do not fret
I lay in this ground
but I am not dead
I live in your heart
and will not stray.'
And with that
the Raven
flew away...
I watched his form
glide into the mist
A dark messenger
yes
And then
I kissed
the stone upon which
he was perched that night
Giving me hope
that she was alright
For death is the beginning
to a journey's end
As the tears stung my eyes
I knew she did send
the Raven that night
to stem my fears
of loneliness
when the dark
brings tears
{Copyright}
© 2009
Wayne Leon Learmond
Loneliness
When the Dark Brings Tears
All Rights Reserved
poem by Wayne Leon Learmond
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church graveyard
a cloud of crows hover
over stone angels
haiku by Chenou Liu
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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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And I Wonder If I’m Not in Love
Walking alone in the cold rain
Sad concrete beneath my feet
Dusk descending alienation gloom
In these hours separated from
The hopeful afternoon.
My heart has been in the rain
For years,
I’ve shed rusty, graveyard tears
Long frozen with forgotten grievances.
I’m convinced, I haven’t
The ability to any longer love
But a face enters my memory,
And I wonder if I’m not in love.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Lament Of The Winds
We in sorrow coldly witting,
In the bleak world sitting, sitting,
By the forest, near the mould,
Heard the summer calling, calling,
Through the dead leaves falling, falling,
That her life grew faint and old.
And we took her up, and bore her,
With the leaves that moaned before her,
To the holy forest bowers,
Where the trees were dense and serried,
And her corpse we buried, buried,
In the graveyard of the flowers.
Now the leaves, as death grows vaster,
Yellowing deeper, dropping faster,
All the grave wherein she lies
With their bodies cover, cover,
With their hearts that love her, love her,
For they live not when she dies:
And we left her so, but stay not
Of our tears, and yet we may not,
Though they coldly thickly fall,
Give the dead leaves any, any,
For they lie so many, many,
That we cannot weep for all.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Graveyard
The eyes of the dark
Which see through the dimly lit full moon
The snowy flakes,
Covers the graveyard which wakes
The cracking of lids
The wooden carved coffins underground
Some opened up,
Horrors stood up, stretched and bent
With all their waiting there came the end
The lonely graveyard,
Now filled with unseen shadows
Approaching hot living blood
The clinking of chains, hanging from hands
The one-eyed pirates, dirty and torn
They were white, outlined black
With fearful groans, this enjoyed pain
So the graveyard awoke
No fiction at all…
Fearful horrors, they waited so long
For the some that needed to be paid
Some which caused their fearful deaths
The shaken up minds, heart broken men,
By spoiling so some lived, closing the gaps
Fury rose up from them, head to foot
What they accepted was beyond dreams
They will kill, let them
If you shield the culprits, you will be next
So they took off, be aware
The eyes of the dark following them
But when would they return?
After those terrible deaths they suffered
The sounds grew louder, when they approached farther
The clinking and groaning still behind them
January 2008
[DECEMBER 26TH 2004.
I KEPT THE HORRIBLE SCENES OF THE TSUNAMI WAVES. WHILE
LEAVING MY HOMETOWN, I SAW WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE BEAUTIFUL SHORE AND TO THE PEOPLE. THE BEAUTIFUL SHORE BECAME A GRAVEYARD THAT DAY. NOT SLEEPING IN PEACE WAS 150 PEOPLE. THE ONES WHO WERE CHEATED BY THE SEA. THE SCENES OF THE BODIES BEING BURNED WAS A HORRIBLE SIGHT. AND I HAVE KEPT THAT ALL MY LIFE AND THIS IS WHAT CAME THROUGH MY WORDS. THE HORRORS SEEKING REVENGE. BUT WHAT TO DO TO NATURE? ? ? ]
© Copyright Aiswarya T Anish, Kerala, India
poem by Aiswarya T. Anish
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I Want To Die Before You
I
want to die before you.
Do you think that who passes later
will find who's gone before?
I don't think so.
You'd better have me burned,
and put me on the stove in your room
in a jar.
The jar shall be made of glass,
transparent, white glass
so that you can see me inside...
You see my sacrifice:
I renounced from being part of the earth,
I renounced from being a flower
to be able to stay with you.
And I am becoming dust,
to live with you.
Later, when you also die,
you'll come to my jar.
And we'll live there together
your ash in my ash,
until a careless bride
or an unfaithful grandson
throws us out of there...
But we
until that time
will mix
with each other
so much that
even in the garbage we are thrown into
our grains will fall side by side.
We will dive into the soil together.
And one day, if a wild flower
feeds from this piece of soil and blossoms
above its body, definitely
there will be two flowers:
one is you
one is me.
I
don't think of death yet.
I will give birth to a child.
Life is flooding from me.
My blood is boiling.
I will live, but long, very long,
but with you.
Death doesn't scare me either.
But I find our way of funeral
rather unlikable.
Until I die,
I think this will get better.
Is there a hope you'll get out of prison these days?
A voice in me says:
maybe.
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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This Flower
This flower is a gift...given to all...
Some loose it...
Some have it stolen...
And some give it away...
This flower cannot be replaced...
For once it's gone...it's gone...
Another cannot be grown...
When others do not have their flower anymore...
Some of them laugh because you still have this flower...
But havin' this flower still shouldn't make you feel akward...
Bein' able to hold on to this flower for so long should bring you joy...
Havin' this flower after many others have lost theirs...
Should make you feel special at heart...
You shouldn't be ashamed that you still have this flower...
Hold this flower close and be proud...
This flower can bring Happiness, tears, regret, and even Life...
If you still hold this flower...
Hold strong...
You are not the only one...
For I still hold this lovely flower...
poem by Jennifer Carmical
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