Related quotes: When the Running Stops In...

When The Running Stops

When the Running Stops

In the enclose, outside the slaughterhouse, sheep were running in rings,
first to the left, and then to the right; in the end there was only one left
and it was too tired to run. I have lost two more friends, feel as I’m
the only sheep left in the enclosure and too tired to run. Heartache and
fun, we had it all in our adolescence. Then our way parted, but you never
forget a childhood friend.
Two years ago I was going to see them, a reunion of school friends going
back fifty years. In the end I didn’t go, knew we would talk a lot first then
fall silent. What we remembered was our friendship then and the past is
another country, as the poet says.
I knew the chasm of years could not be bridged, over meal and too much
wine. One of my friends sent me a photo of the party, a group of old men
I would have walked past in the street and not recognized any of them.
I put the photo up on the wall in my office, but soon took it down again.
Time is a cruel enemy I cry for them and me.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Thinks His Name Was John

(sandy knox, steve rosen)
She can account for all of the men in her past
Where they are now, who they married, how many kids they have
She knew their backgrounds, family and friends
A few she even talks to now and then
But there is one she cant put her finger on
There is one who never leaves her thoughts
And she thinks his name was john
A chance meeting, a party a few years back
Broad shoulders and blue eyes, his hair was so black
He was a friend of a friend you could say
She let his smile just sweep her away
And in her heart she knew it was wrong
But too much wine and she left his bed at dawn
And she thinks his name was john
Now each day is one day thats left in her life
She wont know love, have a marriage or sing lullabies
She lays all alone and cries herself to sleep
cause she let a stranger kill her hopes and her dreams
And all her friends say what a pity what a loss
And in the end when she was barely hanging on
All she could say is she thinks his name was john

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Friends Back In My Prime Years

My friends back in my prime years I never did disown
It's just that I live far from them and apart we have grown
We drank and played football together but our separate ways we've gone
And we have forged new friendships and life of course goes on.

My friends back in my prime years may now look a bit gray
And they might not know me or I might not know them if by chance we met today
In my memory they have remained young but in reality
The years have left their mark on them as the years have left their mark on me.

Old father time the aloof one to anyone doesn't bow
And some of my friends of my prime years may be grand parents now
Perhaps they now are showing their age and time has left them slow
They could run fast as I recall some twenty years ago.

My friends back in my prime years I may now not recognize
For time leaves it's mark on all of us I've come to realize
I drunk beer with them in the pub and with them played football
And that was many years ago as I can well recall.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Long Division

Did somebody try to catch your eye
And almost change your sad expression?
Did somebodys hand linger too long?
Must I now make my confession?
But youll never know
What suspicion is
Until you lie awake
And every night you ask yourself
What am I to do?
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
Theres nothing left over
Hows it gonna feel? this time its real
Its not a temporary fracture
This is what you get, the stage is set
For you and your attempted rapture
Is he gonna smile
That indulgent smile
When you come running home?
And every night you ask yourself,
What am I to do?
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
Theres nothing left over
What am I gonna say? you turn away
And you leave me here despairing
What am I going to do? I look at you
You seem to be so long past caring
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Only to find out now that its a joke
So ask yourself,
What am I to do?
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
Theres nothing left over
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hiram Helsel

Air -- "Three Grains of Corn"

Once was a boy, age fifteen years,
Hiram Helsel was his name,
And he was sick two years or so;
He has left this world of pain;
His friends they miss this lovely boy,
That was patient, kind and brave.
He left them all for him to mourn --
He is sleeping in his grave.

He was a small boy of his age,
When he was five years or so
Was shocked by lightning while to play
And it caused him not to grow,
He was called little Hi. Helsel
By all friends that knew him well --
His life was sad, as you shall hear,
And the truth to you I'll tell.

His parents parted when he was small,
And both are married again.
How sad it was for them to meet
And view his last remains.
He was living with his father then,
As many a friend can tell;
'Tis said his father's second wife
That she did not use him well.

Just before little Hiram died --
His uncle and aunt were there --
He kissed them both -- bid them farewell,
They left him with a prayer.
Now he is gone, Oh! let him rest;
His soul has found a haven,
For grief and woe ne'er enters there,
In that place called heaven.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Did They Go?

Shocking I do not have
a single one of my original
friends left.

And I want
some of them
back now.

First we left school
and went off to work.
Then we went off to
other jobs or other places.

I do not even know
where most of them are now?

I guess that's why people
have so many old school reunions.
I guess that's why more people
former pupils go to later reunions.

Childhood friends...

It gets really
common
for old friends
to lose touch
even for years!

It gets really
common
to lose touch
forever!

It gets really
common
for old friends
to start dying
one by one!

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Not Losing Sleep

Yes, I've read the morning papers
Telling me that you've made money
Do you think I'm gonna crawl, then think again
Though I'm dressed in rags, I'm richer
Though I eat from tins, I'm healthier
Though I live in slums, I'm purer than you, my friend
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Look around and see the friends
The ones you left, our friends deserted
See the guys that used to talk and drink with you
Don't look down your nose at me
'Cause I won't ask your sympathy
I won't be your yes-sir man for anything
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that you're wearing on the ground
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
I can't get my satisfaction
Knowing you won't get reaction
What makes me the big attraction anyway
It's too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Oh, it's too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wounded Man

I am not a desolate man..nor a lonely man..I am not also a sea port.. where no ships land and shelter..I am not a lighthouse..isolated and left solitary near the sea bare sea rocks..I have enough number of friends...whose value I knew or have not known..forg otten or not forgetten...I have also a spouse...I found in my late years of life..I am just a wounded man...sometimes by you...sometimes by your words..or sometimes by spades or pick axes...at first...a needle had past through my tiny fingers...I do not remember when....when I was just beginning to walk...my sister told me once.... trying to give a sewing machine a caress...Then when I was attending to my boarding school...a pick axe fell on my feet... when we were hunting the locusts in the garden....with my new friends.....years later then...glass pı erced my wrist and lips....I lay in the infirmary for weeks....skipping my lessons...in fact I am not so naughty...just eager to see....be a friend be...just a wounded man...when ı retired as an old grown up man.... I was very stunned...break my left hip bone...falling on a pavement stone....I am not a man alone...when my friends lefty this boring world....one by one....I regret....being alive...living blind and lame...not knowing...where I am going...and destined to....That is what I am....I am not a man desolate and solitary....I am just a tired man...and wounded deeply...mostly the words wound me....especially the words of my friends and special ones hurt me...injure me...deeply and sadly....I) ha ve not chosen this life of mine....what a pity...I will leave it one day some day....wounded and feeling a bit guilty...

poem by Metin Sahin
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Eve

Detdicated to Eve Croft
May she Rest In Peace

It was over forty years ago
when I first met her.
I had barely left my teens.
She was older than me;
in fact, she was a friend’s mother.
Divorce had left her lonely
with three sons to bring up.
Life was not easy,
not much time to herself.
Slowly after meeting her,
a friendship between us grew.

To make her life sustainable
I took her out
from time to time.
We held hands at the pictures
and when we went anywhere.
She often worried
what people would think of me.
I didn’t really care what people thought.
Eve was a friend
and there was nothing more to be said.

For the next couple of years
our friendship never wavered.
We would hug and smile
whenever we did meet.
There was never any romance involved,
we were just very good friends.

I never forget when she had an offer
to move in with someone.
She was so worried
that I would think badly of her.
She was almost in tears
when she told me his proposition.
I put my arm around her shoulder
and reassured her it was all right.
That our friendship would never diminish
regardless what she did.

Sadly, her going away
was never meant to be.
She fell ill with cancer
and went to live with her sister
who would care for her.
It was the last time
I was ever to see her.

It was a few years later
I bumped into her eldest son.
When I asked him about his mum
he looked at me strangely
with tears holding back I his eyes.
She died I thought you knew.
I said that I didn’t.

He said he couldn’t stop
as he had a bus to catch,
and then he was gone.
With head bowed, I turned away
and started walking home.
Tears leaked from my eyes
making small lines across my cheeks.
My regret then and will always be
that I never had a chance
to say a proper goodbye.

1 January 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tired Of Feeling This Way

The intruder
In the background

On the edge
The fringe of the group

A disposable pawn
No would care if you lost

The 5th wheel
The one left without a partner

If I left no one would care
If I was gone no one would worry

Fading to the back
Thrown away

Once useless
Always the one forgotten

Drifting from person to person
Not finding the perfect fit

Unimportant
With no one

I'm tired of feeling this way
Feeling utterly lost

Not a single person to talk to
Or share anything with

And you're the one
Who makes me feel this way

When your'er gone I'm happy
Because you take up too much attention

And I never get anything from
OUR friends

I love you but
I'm tired of feeling this way

poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Not Loosing Sleep

Yes, Ive read the morning papers
Telling me that youve made money
Do you think Im gonna crawl, then think again
Though Im dressed in rags, Im richer
Though I eat from tins, Im healthier
Though I live in slums, Im purer than you, my friend
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Look around and see the friends
The ones you left, our friends deserted
See the guys that used to talk and drink with you
Dont look down your nose at me
cause I wont ask your sympathy
I wont be your yes-sir man for anything
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that youre wearing on the ground
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
I cant get my satisfaction
Knowing you wont get reaction
What makes me the big attraction anyway
Its too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Oh, its too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Childhood Memories

Happy childhood memories the best memories of all
And my younger years in Millstreet I will always recall
On evenings in Summer up to the mid Fall
In the Townpark at the West End we played gaelic football
My friends of my youth where might they be today
Like me have the years left them balder and gray
Though some of them in the home Parish did stay
In life one might say we just went our own way
Since those days so many years have come and gone
And time does not wait it just ticks on and on
Many of the friends of my youth I may not see again
Though good memories of them with me does remain
And in fancy I chase the football up and down
With my happy young friends in the Park of the Town.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The World Is Running Down

Turn on my V.C.R.
Same one I've had for years
James Brown on the T. A. M. I. show
Same tape I've had for years
I sit in my old car
Same one I've had for years
Old battery's running down
It ran for years and years
Turn on the radio
The static hurts my ears
Tell me where would I go
I ain't been out in years
Turn on the stereo
It's played for years and years
An Otis Redding song
It's all I own
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
Plug in my M.C.I
To exercise my brain
Make records on my own
Can't go out in the rain
Pick up the telephone
I've listened here for years
No one to talk to me
I've listened here for years
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When I feel lonely here
Don't waste my time with tears
I run 'Deep Throat' again
It ran for years and years
Don't like the food I eat
The cans are running out
Same food for years and years
I hate the food I eat
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around

song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Seeing A Photograph

A photo of an ageing face stirs an old memory
He is plainly not a shadow of the man he used to be
His balding head is hoary gray his hair it was dark brown
When we played football as teenagers in the park in our Hometown.

He was a sprightly youth back then two years younger than I
On looking back the decades the years just seemed to fly
He played football worked in the fields and walked miles every day
But like me he seems the worst for wear the years have left us gray.

Perhaps we would be strangers now if by chance we did meet
We might not recognize each other in passing on the street
We age a little every day time of us all takes care
And leaves us looking in the end the very worst for wear.

A photograph of one I knew from many years ago
And he has aged as I have aged time on us all does show
We played football together when we were near to our life's prime
But in the end we all lose out to ageless father time.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Strangers

In 1958, I last saw someone
whom would disappear from my life
until December 2006.
Our meeting was not face to face,
but across the internet.
Three cheers for technology.
She recognised me from an old school photo
it was not until I saw the class photo
after she pointed out herself
that I did recognise who she was.
For countless years you see,
I thought of her under a different name
which why I did not recognise her straight away.
The New Year came and we talked
about how our lives in the intervening years.
She introduced me to a friend
whom did the same thing as me - write.
At first, I was confused
and within our correspondence,
my confusion did show.
I gave out so many mixed signals
that I shudder to think at what she thought.
Slowly as time passed,
I grew more admiration for these two strangers
who suddenly entered into my life
and they became firm friends.
Years before I had given up on writing,
the one thing that I did best.
Like two earth angels,
they lifted me and carried me though
to a new chapter in my life.
The names of these two angels
are Suzanne Gaddess and Melvina Germain.
Between them both,
they gave me friendship
and much, much more.
They dragged me from the pit of despair
and showed me the right road to take.
I have never looked back since,
well only occasionally
to make sure my two loving friends are still there.
In 2009, I plan to meet them
and give each some great big hugs
to these two wonderful strangers
I met across the internet.
14 November 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fading Into Black

her daddy drank cheap whiskey
her momma never said much
she lost her virginity
in the bed of a pickup truck
ran away at seventeen
vowed never to come back
now two abortions later
she's fading into black...
fading into black...

lost child of a forgotten God
a number without a name
with nothing left to lose
and nothing left to gain
racing down a dead end street
half crazy and nearly sane
too tired to stop the running
too numb to feel the pain

her daughters a crack whore
her son was killed in Iraq
her husband lost his job
after his second heart attack
now she's fifty and waiting tables
living in an old mill shack
food stamps and day old bread
she's fading into black...
fading into black.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Is Sweet

It’s graduation night
and something doesn’t feel right
My friends and I are moving on
Everyone is up and gone
My childhood has slipped away
It left without anything to say
This doesn’t feel how I thought it would
Not as happy as I should be….

Is this my life slipping through my fingers
The smell of my childhood still lingers
And I’m feeling scared and alone
Everything I’ve known is close to gone

Now It’s my fourth year of college
Gotten through four years of knowledge
Lost some friends and made some new
Learned some things I thought I knew
Drank too much and studied less
Thought I’d break under all the stress
And now it’s coming to an end
I’m on the road, here comes a bend..

Is this my life slipping through my fingers
The smell of college bars still lingers
And I’m feeling scared and alone
Everything I’ve known is close to gone

This is it, this is my life changing
Everything I’ve ever known is rearranging
Can’t stop it now, won’t even try
Nothing I can do, no need to cry..

And now It’s been ten years
All the work and all the tears
Have paid off in the end
I met a man who’s my best friend
Tied the knot in the fall
Watched our baby learn to crawl
And now my life feels so complete
Life is just so sweet…

poem by Maggie lll
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Tired Of It All

I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-

And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty Years Ago

It's been a long time since I walked
Through this old town
But oh how the memories start to flow
And there's the old movie house
They finally closed it down
You could find me there every Friday night
Twenty years ago.
I worked the counter at the drugstore down the street
But nobody's left there I would know
On Saturday mornings that's where
All my friends would meet
You'd be surprised to know what a dime would buy
Twenty years ago.
All my memories from those days come gather round me
What I'd give if they could take me back in time
It almost seems like yesterday
Where do the good times go?
Life was so much easier twenty years ago.
I guess I should stop by Mr. Johnson's hardware store
His only son was my friend Joe
But he joined the army back in 1964
How could we know he would never come back
Twenty years ago...

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Choked Up

I dont know why we cant talk
Every time we try we get choked up
Running with the feelings that get caught in our head
til I cant remember what it was we said
All my friends say Im in love
is this what I think theyre thinking of?
I dont know why we cant win
Every time we lose we just pretend
Running out of money at the end of the month
Not able to buy the things I want
All my friends say Im in love
Is this what I think theyre thinking of?
Count my friends on my left hand
I dont even know they wouldnt understand
Taint myself with thoughts of leaving
Running out of things left to believe in
Running out of money and time
Running out of money and time
You wont be mine
I dont know why we cant win
Every time we lose we just pretend
Running out of money at the ned of the month
Not able to buy the things I want
All my friends say Im in love
Is this what I think theyre thinking of?
Count my friends on my left hand
I dont even know they wouldnt understand
All my friends say Im in love
Is this what I think theyre thinking of?
All my friends say Im in love
Is this what I think theyre thinking of?

song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

When The Running Stops

Related quotes

Old Friends

She Thinks His Name Was John

My Friends Back In My Prime Years

The Long Division

Hiram Helsel

Where Did They Go?

I'm Not Losing Sleep

Wounded Man

Eve

Tired Of Feeling This Way

Im Not Loosing Sleep

Happy Childhood Memories

When The World Is Running Down

On Seeing A Photograph

Two Strangers

Fading Into Black

Life Is Sweet

I'm Tired Of It All

Twenty Years Ago

Choked Up

En.Citatepedia®.ro

When The Running Stops

Related quotes

Old Friends

She Thinks His Name Was John

My Friends Back In My Prime Years

The Long Division

Hiram Helsel

Where Did They Go?

I'm Not Losing Sleep

Wounded Man

Eve

Tired Of Feeling This Way

Im Not Loosing Sleep

Happy Childhood Memories

When The World Is Running Down

On Seeing A Photograph

Two Strangers

Fading Into Black

Life Is Sweet

I'm Tired Of It All

Twenty Years Ago

Choked Up

En.Citatepedia^®.ro