En.Citatepedia^®.ro

As A Day Passes

As The Days Passes
The cemetery on the hill, facing the blue bay, looks inviting in spring sun.
A burial procession is coming up the road, the last one before lunch,
the priest has folded his hands and think of food. As soon as the coffin is
lowered, three the gravediggers go to work.
Kisses, hugs, tears and sober handshakes, the group of mourners break
up, the bereaved needs to eat too. We are because my wife’s mother is
in a hole in the wall with glass door, she came to change the cloth that
covers the coffin, but has forgotten the key.
I think of my mother, she has been dead a long time, memories of her
last years are bleached bones in the human wasteland I have a picture
of her when she was young and can now see, she a woman too, I cherish
my memories of that time. She had a difficult life, enough said.
Why do people drink? I drink to ease the yoke of my own mortality and
the whispering voice that mocks me. After a bottle of wine the evening
floats by, like a pink cloud on the sky, the scornful voice tires itself out
and falls silent, and softly now life is beautiful and full of dreams.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffin Car

Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husband taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coffin Car

Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husband taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Learned To Stutter/coffin Car

Recorded live 3 june 1973 at the first international feminist conference, harvard university, cambridge, ma.
While john is setting up the amp...
What happened to me was that I was living as an artist and, who had relative freedom
As a woman and was considered the bitch in the society.
Since I met john, I was upgraded into a witch and I was...and I think that thats very flattering.
Anyway, what I learned from being with john is that the society solely treated me as a woman, as a woman who belonged to a man who is one of the most powerful people in our generation, and some of his closest friends told me that probably I should stay in the background, I should shut up, I should give up my work and that way Ill be happy.
And I got those advises, I was luck, I was over thirty and it was too late for me to change,
But still, still, this is one thing I want to say, sisters, because, with the wish that you know
Youre not alone, i...because the whole society started to attack me and the whole society wished me dead, I started accumulating a tremendous amount of guilt complex and in result of that I started to stutter. and I consider myself a very eloquent woman and also an attractive woman all my life and suddenly, because I was associated to john, that was considered an ugly woman, ugly jap, who took your monument or something away from you.
And thats when I realised how hard it is for woman, if I can start to stutter, being a strong woman and having lived thirty years by then, learn to stutter in three years of being treated as such, it is a very hard road.
Now the next song is called coffin car and this is a song that I observed in myself and also in many sisters who are riding on coffin cars.
Okay
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car,
Shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husbands taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
Coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Evening

this evening is another lovely evening
i see stars. i think of some memories. sticky ones. sweet ones.
mouthwatering ones between us. in the room dim and cold. warmed by our
two bodies.kisses. hugs. touches. caresses. whispers.
indeed, this is a lovely evening.
i have a glass of mild wine in my hand. an orange. an apple. some spices
of mint and chili. to make me feel hot on this lovely, cold night. the wind blows
from the sea. i hear the waves. but they are sounding so gently
reminding of a boat where we ride. kisses. hugs. touches. caresses.
whispers. making love. the boat stopped in the middle of the ocean.
both of us.
indeed this is a lovely evening. i have another glass of wine. an orange.
some chili. some pepper.
i like it hot. these memories. i have your picture in my hand. your last letter.
i have the picture of you and your husband. and your children. they all have
grown up. your daughter looks just like you. some smiles. hugs. kisses.
embraces. your family on your last wedding anniversary. in maryland.

indeed this is a lovely evening. an honest one.
everything is accepted. everything is true. and i wish you all the happiness.
for indeed this is a lovely evening. with myself. still strong as ever.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Evening Breeze

I was loud and a little sad
She was visiting from atlanta, georgia
She had come to spend the summer with her dad
I thought she was very pretty
We would kiss and hold hands
Every night by the football field
Her body was tan
From the afternoons by the public swimming pool
Chorus:
Sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
I saw her in a coffee shop
In a big hotel down in austin, texas
She had cut her long hair off
And replaced it with
Blue eyes of sadness
Still acted like we were kids
And she told me that she had to marry
And she asked me if I did
Still remember
Chorus:
Sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
How redundant the future can be
These days of old are very, very
Ridiculous for me to see
When I think about the real gone stories
And how time holds the winning hand
I can tell by the lines on our faces
And the young cant understand
That they look at me
When they look at themselves
Chorus:
Oh, sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Japanese Fisherman

A young Japanese fisherman was killed
by a cloud at sea.
I heard this song from his friends,
one lurid yellow evening on the Pacific.

Those who eat the fish we caught, die.
Those who touch our hands, die,
This ship is a black coffin,
you'll die if you come up the gangplank.

Those who eat the fish we caught, die,
not straight away, but slowly,
slowly their flesh rots, falls off.
Those who eat the fish we caught, die.

Those who touch our hands, die.
Our loyal, hardworking hands
washed by salt and sun.
Those who touch our hands, die,
not straight away, but slowly,
slowly their flesh rots, falls off.
Those who touch our hands, die.

Almond Eyes, forget me.
This ship is a black coffin,
you'll die if you come up the gangplank.
The cloud has passed over us.

Almond Eyes, forget me.
Don't hug me my darling,
you'll catch death from me.
Almond Eyes, forget me.

This ship is a black coffin.
Almond Eyes, forget me.
The child you have from me
will be rotten from a rotten egg.
This ship is a black coffin.
This sea is a dead sea.
Human beings, where are you?
Where are you?

poem by Nazim Hikmet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Critical Mass

Arriving in boats
Black hooded coats
Tormentors climbed into my room
I crawled under my bed
Covered my head
But theyre flushin me out with a broom
The leades, shes small
Pinned my ass to the wall
For my seeds or shed be losin her past
Time after time
Shed be readin my mind
Celebrate, celebrate, celebrate it
This is critcal mass
So far, so good
I heard the other say
So good, so far
Theyre takin me away
I drink to you, your mind, her ass
Well take a drink and break the glass
Celebrate, celebrate, celebrake it
This is critical mass
Now the tallest of two
With a brush full of blue
Paints surrealist scenes on the wall
So I tell her for fun
That its really well done
But she just aint listenin at all
She points to my heart
Tellin me if Im smart
Ill practise and phase
Out and admit, when the shoe doesnt fit
And I went screamin out down the hall
Need it
Need your love
Just then I heard a poundin on the wall
Were all there, sang the voice of twenty more
I drink to your alas
Well take a drink and break the glass
Celebrate, celebrate, celebreak it
We are the critical mass
Time and space is takin me away
Time erase, dont know the time of day

song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wanted to make a human monster. His name is Coffin Baby. The idea is based on a group of people from Pasadena whose names I can't mention. His mother died and during the funeral, this baby came out of her in the coffin.

quote by Tobe Hooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devotion

Not lost from my young years

Is silent devotion to a sound of bells,

To all churches' dusking altars

And their blue domes heaven-wide.

To an organ's tune at evening,

To wide squares fading in darkness,

And to a fountain that splashes, softly and quietly

And sweetly, like unintelligible children's babbling.

I see myself dreaming silently, folding the hands,

And whispering prayers forgotten for a long time,

And early gloom sombering my glance.

Since a woman's picture gleams

Out of confused shapes, wreathed by sinister grief,

And pours into me the chalice of nefarious shudders.

poem by Georg Trakl
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I Love Time Out With Nature

I love time out with Nature and I love peace and quiet
To walk along the gravel path in the evening sunlight
When the wild birds are singing and Spring is in her prime
And even memories of such inspire the soul to rhyme.

I love time out with Nature a brief release from care
For Nature she is generous her gifts with all she share
We drink of her clear spring waters and we breathe in her life sustaining air
And Nature's splendid beauty is around us everywhere.

I love time out with Nature the only God I know
Her stream from the high country down to the river flow
The skylark from the rank grass in the mood for song he fly
One of Nature's feathered minstrels he carols in the sky.

In time out with Mother Nature from life's cares I find ease
The sounds of the leaves rustling in the freshening evening breeze
And we much like the Seasons to life we come and go
But Nature lives forever the only God I know.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Memories

*Whisper* Memories, Memories, Memories
In This World You Tried
Not Leaving Me Alone Behind
There's No Other Way
I'll Pray To The Gods: Let Him Stay
The Memories Ease The Pain Inside
Now I Know Why
Chorus
All Of My Memories
Keep You Near
It's All About Us
Imagine You'd Be Here
All Of My Memories
Keep You Near
The Silent Whispers
The Silent Tears
Made Me A Promise I'd Try
To Find My Way Back In This Life
I Hope There Is A Way
To Give Me A Sign You're Okay
Reminds Me Again
It's Worth It All
So I Can Go Home
Chorus
Together In All These Memories
I See Your Smile
All The Memories I Hold Dear
Darling You Know I Love You Till The End Of Time
Chorus

song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Comfort Of A Drunken Mind

Lipstick on an empty glass
A Memory of a smile
In my time, don’t you know?
Young girls vied for my attention
Always posing, Heartbreaker to women was I.

God, I will never see her smile again
Her voice silent to me
Inside I am a flower without rain
A musician without music
My love waits in a queue,
Full of fools, and whiskey bottles

Ahhh another drink
Yes tomorrow, will be better

I remember her stare,
Sitting on that chair,
That damn chair.
Drink Darling?
My Blossom of the night,
A smooth talker me.

I broke her dreams
Now Petals on a stormy sea
I remember her scent
Now washed away on the hurricanes breath
Called Whisky

Ahh another drink, she won’t leave me?
Damn that empty chair
To bed, the morning will bring her back

The bottle sleeps
And the sandman paints his illusions
Dreams invulnerable to reality
The glow of dawn, incinerates these imposters
Fabricated in the monsoon of a drowning brain

Cornflakes and Barley wine, a man’s breakfast
What now, a snifter I think and another thought?

Love has left this empty chair
Where dreams and happiness dwelt
Where futures were planned
And where love flowed, intoxicating our lives.

Still, the empty glass remains.
Ahh, another drink, and another illusion to comfort my soul

The bottle is my love now,
And the empty chair, my sentence.
That damned empty chair
Ahh did I tell you, once I was a heartbreaker?
Come Share a drink with me friend?

poem by Steven Cooke
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A Song For Sue

You might physically leave us,
but you will never go away.
In our memories you will never stray.
You will be with us each morning
as the sun begins to rise.
You will be with us each evening
in our prayers before we sleep.

We will see your face in every cloud;
hear your voice whisper in the wind.
You will be with us as we walk
until in heaven we will meet again.
Your memories will never fade
for as long as we survive.
You will be our guiding light always at our side.

Good and bad days will come,
but in each, you will be there
in the memories we have of you
and all the laughter that we shared.
We may not be able to touch you,
but you will never be far away.

Life may be just a moment
in the history that surrounds us,
but those we love will never pass
from our memories where they reside.
They will go on with us forever
until our time is called
and we will meet in heaven once again.

poem by David Harris
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As At Thy Portals Also Death

AS at thy portals also death,
Entering thy sovereign, dim, illimitable grounds,
To memories of my mother, to the divine blending, maternity,
To her, buried and gone, yet buried not, gone not from me,
(I see again the calm benignant face fresh and beautiful still,
I sit by the form in the coffin,
I kiss and kiss convulsively again the sweet old lips, the cheeks,
the closed eyes in the coffin;)
To her, the ideal woman, practical, spiritual, of all of earth, life,
love, to me the best,
I grave a monumental line, before I go, amid these songs,
And set a tombstone here. 10

poem by Walt Whitman
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(My Mother) Retirement Plans

“When I grow old, ” said my mother, “I’ll change my life.
I’ll rent a garret on the Left Bank of the Seine
in Paris, give up being a mother and a wife,
spend my days painting, drink red wine all night,
my friends will be artists - maybe I’ll write.

“But what about Dad? ” I objected.
My mother reflected.
“He’ll be okay, ” she said.
“He’ll buy a djellabi, sandals, a scarab
and live in the desert, along with the Arabs.
He’s learning the lingo at evening class.
He’ll go over to Gaza” – I thought, what a gas!

I’d spend April in Paris, winter with Dad –
there was going to be some fun to be had!
I hoped that my parents’ dreams all would come true –
but after all that they just moved down to Bude!

poem by Janice Windle
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When I'm dead and gone

When Im dead and in the grave
Will you still love me or will you hate me?
If I look down on earth will I see you cry?
If I looked above my grave
Will I see you there or the flowers you left?

When the rot becomes my closest friend
Will you be blaming and hationg me?
Im so alone now those days are over.
Of the days when I walked in the storms.

If I were to knock on the door
Would I be wecolmed in and home?
Will I be fogotten or forgiven?
I simply left behind the life where I did not fit.

I decided my own time of departure.
I decided it was my time to leave.
When the moon was full I left
I left the whispers behind and gave my life away.

I just couldnt decide and deal with some things
But I ve got plenty of time now Im in my coffin
Locked in my coffin still quizzing my suicide.
When the bugs eat my flesh and bones
Will you miss me?

Im sorry I ended my life this way
I had no other choice but to choose my death.
Please dont be angry with me.
Im sorry I didnt explain why

Amy Kerswell

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Reconciliation

WORD over all, beautiful as the sky!
Beautiful that war, and all its deeds of carnage, must in time be
utterly lost;
That the hands of the sisters Death and Night, incessantly softly
wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world:
... For my enemy is dead--a man divine as myself is dead;
I look where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin--I draw
near;
I bend down, and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the
coffin.

poem by Walt Whitman
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Marry Anniversary

This a special day
many have gone
lots more to come
special moments, eventful times
memories of the years that past
from the first we met, I knew
there would not be any like you
to change my world, spark my life
create amazing adventures
survived the bad times
struggles, fights, make ups
seeing your smile and sparkling eyes
still melt me after all these years
this day brings fond memories
of our wedding day
seeing you in that beautiful wedding gown
the same one your mother was married in
seeing you walk in your fathers arms down the aisle
was like living a dream of happiness
what the future had for us
stronger and wiser we are
I wouldn't change anything
to be with you has been amazing and wonderful
spending our adult lives together was a trip
a journey many have failed, but we prevailed
I would do it all again over and over
walking arm in arm till the end of time
there no one as beautiful or as special as you
from deep in my heart and in my soul
Your the one I am forever in love with
in our later years I cherish every moment together
the many kisses, the dances, the tears and the smiles
waking up with you next to me is heaven
Many more years for you and I
Love you more now then the day I said I Do
Marry Anniversary, My dear Love

poem by Michael Peterson
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(Mother poems) To his mother the kitchen meit

Mother, Mother
D'you see that there
Beer hall
I don't want to go there
Mother, mother
Do you see those there boys and girls
Into that abandoned house they go
To make babies as if baby making
Is going out of fashion
Protect me mother I don't
Want to run with the wrong crowd
Mother, mother
Do you see that man
He carries death
In the bulging bag slung casually on his
Broad shoulders
He sells drugs and illicit booze
Stand close to me mum I don't want
To fall into the clutches of the bootleggers
And the merchants of death the drug lords
Mother, mother
Do you see that inviting
Jail house
Be with me mother
Give me the tons of your love
I don't want to miss you in jail
Mother, mother
Do you see that silent cemetery
Stand by my side mother
For I am scarred
And the cemetery is so silent
So discouraging for those who don't
Want to die young

poem by Ngaka Motaung
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The Grenadain Woman

Yes me woman, from my womb life was borne

Yes me woman, the young ones prune by my hands

Yes me woman, with the coves that sways with the redeem of the heart beat, tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup

Yes me woman, with beauty unimaginable, soft to the touch

yes me woman, with the voice of a heavenly being, soft, gentle, comforting, encouraging

Yes me woman, determine to succeed with the strength from above

Yes me woman, the days have gone, long gone for her to depend on the strength of another man

Yes me woman, her time has come for the world to see her for who she really is

Yes me woman, creative, innovative, confident, intelligent, loving, kindhearted

Yes me woman, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, lover

Yes me woman, The Grenadian woman.

poem by Curliann Mark
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