Air Was Naked
After the putsch, through night he set himself alight
ensnared in flames of societal conflicts, for a
vision of tomorrow, in the birth of a bloody dawn.
The drone of history had failed on a loaded salt.
A solitary murder of truth was sufficient to unsettle
me for a downturn of unborn wounds of drowned
voice, of a requiem. The dead were coming back to life
in dark alleys of black skulls. The pink scarves
were still holding the snow flakes of standing
wheat for the thirsty children, of grieving mothers
who lost the homes to red hands, the white paper,
the hungry guns. The thieves were coming again.
I was never naked in my blood, my howling bones.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Cannot Say
On a hollow path
you had failed
carrying the loaves of bread
in biting cold of politics
scaring the lips.
I was standing near
the dawn in praise of dark.
The sharks were coming.
Here goes the marble floor
for drowning in black blood.
The fire between the palaces
was eating the golden thighs.
I think flowers have gone
to drink from the little ponds
near the escaped souls
of scribes and guns.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bloody Clothes of War
I wear the bloody clothes of war
The wounds that I show
Coming from traumas
Concussions that rattle your heart
And never leave your head.
The blood that I oppose
Stemming from the life I missed
The hope I skipped past
The love I never felt.
The wounds that killed me fall deep
Hitting my bones
Some even shattering
Leaving me motionless on the floor.
The tears and blood I cry
Fill up the casket and spill out
Until everyone in the room drowns in them
But I somehow find a way to prevent myself
From showing the crowd that I am dying, not dead.
I wear the bloody clothes of war
War with everything
War with everyone
But also the worst kind of war
War with myself.
Mother
Mother folds her hands
As twilight grows near
A stance almost prayer like
Before the dusk
And the ink black of night sets in
Holding ever close to her heart
To her soul
All the loves of her life
Come and gone
Silence breaks the still
As mothers hands open
To a long awaited acceptance
A requiem for yesterday
And a Novena for tomorrow
The Cats In The Cradle
October,8,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Slipped Away
Good morning son
It's off to school you go
Mom's gone to work you know
Mom when are you coming home
There's a bank robbery that's going on
Ooh this very morn
Mom's gone to wrok for sure
Mom when are you coming home
Officers the bank is being held
By two gunmen that don't mean well
Mom's on the job can't you tell
Mom when are you coming home
Mom when are you coming home
To see your son
Daughter don't be a policeman
Please be a school teacher instead
You're so good with the children
Mom when are you coming home
Teacher please excuse these boys from class
Their mother gone from a gunshot blast
Another cop shot down on patrol
Mom when are you coming home
Mom when are you coming home
To see your son
The gangsters killed our mother dead
All is lost from our family
They tried to save our mom in vain
She drowned in blood and she was not saved
The bank is open and the robbers jailed
And mom won't be coming home
The way they run their world so wrong
How can us brothers get along
Mom when are you coming home
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Friday
Killer, intruder, homicidal man.
If you see me coming, run as fast as you can.
A blood thirsty demon whos stalking the street.
I hack up my victims like pieces of meat.
Blood thirsty demon, sinister fiend,
Bludgeonous slaughters, my evil deeds.
My hammers a cold piece of blood-lethal steel.
I grin while you writhe with the pain that I deal.
Swinging the hammer, I hack through their heads,
Deviant defilers, youre next to be dead.
I unleash my hammer with sadistic intent.
Pounding, surrounding, slamming through your head. yeah!
Their bodies convulse, in agony, and, pain.
I mangle their faces, till no features remain.
A blade for the butchering, I cut them to shreds.
First take out the organs, then cut off the head.
The remains of flesh now sop under my feet.
One more bloody massacre, the murders complete.
I seek to dismember, a sadist fiend.
And, blood baths are my way of getting clean.
I lurk in the alleys, wait for the kill.
I have no remorse for the blood that I spill
A merciless butcher who lives underground.
Im out to destroy you and ,i will, cut you down.
I see you, and, Im waiting ,for black friday.
Killer, intruder, homicidal man.
If you see me coming, run as fast as you can.
A blood thirsty demon whos stalking the street.
I hack up my victims like pieces of meat.
I lurk in the alleys, wait for the kill.
I have no remorse for the blood that I spill
A merciless butcher who lives underground.
Im out to destroy you and ,i will, cut you down.
Its black friday, paint the devil on the wall.
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knock em Dead Kid
In the heat of the night
You went and blackened my eyes
Well now Im back
Im back
Im back
And Im coming your way
Well now Im supercharged
Might just explode in your face
Im black
Im black
Im black
And Im primed for hate
(chorus)
Knock em dead, kid
(knock em dead)
Knock em dead, kid
(knock em dead)
The blade is red, kid
(knock em dead)
Knock em dead, kid
Knock em dead
A star-spangled fight
Heard a steel-belted scream
Now Im black, Im black, Im black
Another sidewalks bloody dream
I heard the sirens whine
My blood turned to freeze
Youll see the red in my eyes
As you take my disease
(chorus)(solo)(chorus)
Knock em knock em knock em
Dead...(scream)
Knock em dead kid
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll Be Around
i'll be around...
in the wind that rustles your curtains,
in the whisper of darkness that taunts the moonlight.
in the silence that roars, and is then still...
in the prayers that children do not understand,
in the dying old man's aloneness.
in the blood that testifies against the hands,
in the hands that cannot escape the heart.
in the feet walking by their own will,
in the soul scarred by mistakes.
in the hungry mouth and the desperate eyes
that have seen and known too much.
in the fear that comes in the middle of the night,
and the dawn that never seems to come.
in the need to worship and the faith to act,
in the doubt that destroys false idols.
in the pound of the guns, the cries for help,
and the fire that has no favorites.
in the defiant stand, feet set firm,
the mark of the chains on backs and wrists.
in the freedom that does not buy and sell,
that sees beneath the skin.
in the constant dialogue of 'i and thou',
in the me that disperses and dissolves.
in the hammer, the saw, and the shovel,
in the grasses beneath bare feet.
in the song of the whipporwill,
and the final hoot of the owl.
in the howling of wolves,
and the sleepy stillness of the cattle.
in the hidden depths of your heart,
and the quiet darkness that forms your thoughts.
in the grain of the tree just cut,
and the rhythm of the fire going dead.
in every voice that cries for justice,
in every hand that reaches for help!
in the working hum of common thread,
in the simple dignity of the family.
in the ghosts of soldiers lost in battle,
in the weeping of mothers over their graves.
and in the constant courage of the peacemakers,
the voice of reason and compassion.
in the truth that all men are equal...
in the bridge from here to there!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dark Ages
I am coming out of dark ages
And I lived half way through my life
Also I got my hand dirty in the mud a long time ago
I did it and got my tshirt and that job is over
I am coming out of dark ages
Because I spent most of my life in dark ages
And I saw so many dark skies while I went through my life in dark ages
I am coming ou of the dark ages
To help the children in their daily life
By teaching what is right and wrong
Because the children needs to learn what is right and wrong
So they don't became a criminal when they grew up
Because here on earrth are full of criminals already and we have more than What we can handle
I am coming out of the dark ages
To show my love to the children that lives here on the earth with us
I am coming out of the dark ages
Because I want to play with the children everyday here on the earth Because I know that I can make the children happy for once
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Resurrection Mary
(ian hunter)
(studio version)
(transcribed by justin purington)
In 1935 I was living in paradise, I had a friend up in cicero.
We used to go out to the track, wed knock a few whiskeys back.
Id lose my shirt and then I would lose my way home
I was driving my stutz black hawk through justice in the dark,
When suddenly the blood froze in my veins.
She was standing by the road in an incandescent glow,
My heart stood still, my foot slammed on the brakes.
She said please, please would you dignify my wish?
Im trying to get to heaven, could you tell me where that is?
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white,
I caught my first sign of resurrection mary.
I was trembling like a leaf, I was scared beyond belief,
After all my conscience aint that clear.
I used to work for mickey finn, I did the numbers for big jim
Perhaps my day of reckoning lies here?
I said please, please, I would dignify your wish.
But when it comes to heaven, Im just a little bit amateurish.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
I cheated time with resurrection mary.
And I felt tears form in my eyes,
For the first time I felt something deep inside,
And the first time I saw angels high in the air,
For the first time in my life,
And I said mary, go to the light, its gonna be alright.
I got down on my knees, I said sweet mary, please,
Dignify these wishes before you run.
Will you tell him Ive reformed, will you tell him Im reborn?
She closed her eyes and then she spoke in tongues
I said please, please, tell me what he said.
She said you must die
The day before the devil knows youre dead.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
I waved goodbye.
On a wild chicago night, oh with a wind howling white
I lost sight
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
There are a number of differences to the lyrics in the live version as performed at the mick ronson memorial concert at londons hammersmith apollo, 29th april 1994.
(live version, transcribed by wim woittiez)
In 1935 I was living in paradise, I had a friend up in cicero.
We used to go out to the track and knock a few whiskeys back.
Id lose my shirt and then Id lose my way home
I was driving my stutz back home through justice in the dark,
When suddenly the blood froze in my veins.
She was standing by the road in an incandescent glow.
My heart said run but my foot slammed on the brakes.
She said please, please would you justify my wish?
Im trying to get to heaven, will you tell me where that is?
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white,
I caught my first sign of resurrection mary, rm, rm, rm.
I was trembling like a leaf, I was scared beyond belief,
After all my conscience is not clear.
I used to work with mickey finn, I did the numbers for big jim
Perhaps my day of reckoning was here?
I said please, please, Id love to dignify your wish.
But when it comes to heaven, Im just a little bit amateurish.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
I cheated time with resurrection mary, rm, rm, rm.
Yeah the tears were forming in my eyes,
For the first time, I felt something deep inside,
And for the first time I saw angels high in the air,
For the first time in my life.
I said mary, go to the light, its gonna be alright.
I got down on my knees and I said sweet mary, please,
Justify the wishes before you run.
Will you tell him Ive reformed, will you tell him Im reborn?
She closed her eyes and then she spoke in tongues
I said please, please, will you tell me what he said?
She said you must die
The day before the devil knows youre dead.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
Well I waved goodbye to ressurection mary, rm, rm, rm.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
I lost sight
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
With the naked eye.
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snow Flakes
as i look out of my window i see snow flakes
blowing all around landing gently on the ground.
the falling flakes set my heart all aglow.
as it makes a blanket of pure white snow.
creating such a beautiful sight.
the snow just like a heart can be gentle to the touch
yet! cold as ice.
if you plan on playing with it you better think twice.
the heart is the most complex part of the human body
it controls the entire anatomy.
so as the snow trickles down and creates a picture of purity.
and its coldness touches my bones
in my heart grows the warmth of a fire
with all of its desire.
to melt the coldness in your heart
just so you could see.
even the coldest of hearts can belong to me.
but when you want true beauty look up to the sky.
it is not the snow flakes coming down
but the love of god which is all around.
poem by Louis Rams
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Face to Face with future on a late night train.
Caught an image of my future
one dead sky night.
It was fading before me
folding itself back into
its whip mark wrinkles-
compliments of unforgiving time.
Its life flowed in full view
watery red flowing through clear blue.
A river coming to its end.
Ancient banks crumblings into littered rivers.
skull stretching through paper thin skin
reaching out to me
No fresh grass finding sun here.
Future's fragile told me its eyes
Circled cinema screens
From black and white to colour
From daughter to mother
from one life to another.
Dignity neither seen nor felt
yet yearned for.
Future mocks old poems
as the past persues them,
and the present pens them.
Future sees death and smiles
Forever hungry
Thirsty for the fountains of youth.
It pains me to look at her
for her face reveals the truth.
poem by Not Long Left
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The Mining Story
they scraped the hills
with trees
the green grasses of homes
are gone
they dug those big holes
looking for
metals
manganese, gold,
for your jewelries
and other accessories
coal for your
fuels
the natives are dislocated
the children lost their birds
chickens and pigs are butchered
for they have no place
to stay
the hills are like criminals
their heads cut off
the trails here are like
intestines
penetrating the
belly of this
earth
listen! do you hear the drunkards
the government and mining firms!
listen! do you hear the sounds of guns
and the last living screams of the
chieftains
the mayors whom they voted
betrayed them
listen! do you hear the explosions
of bombs
the mountains are cracking
skulls
brains are spilling on the
rocks
listen! do you hear the guards coming
with their M-16s
and barking dogs
Run! Run! Run for your lives
Lest you forget
We are the last chickens and
pigs alive
Do not look back
Those are the children and wives
of the chieftains
Those are the hungry natives
begging in the cities
Their Homes gone
Their Hopes shattered
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hammer Purged By Rust (Part Two)
the railed fence broken,
buildings stink with shock,
the sky falls with shattered force.
young boys with brass boners
chase burning limbs,
lips too numb to talk.
in uniforms of pretense,
that hide all remnants of fear.
drilled to perform without conscious thoughts,
their mothers prayers denied.
to the kingdoms of the poor,
unleashing the vultures of greed.
striking dead any man who dares to stand,
burying the children on trash covered streets.
to banish thought, to blacken hope,
to sever hands that join!
walls built of bones,
young mothers fight back with stones,
the match of judgement struck.
wave upon wave, led by dogs and owls,
sacrificed in sacred mud!
and the gods of eternity
beat the drums of fate.
the ghosts of compassion,
just outside the doors of hate.
truth hangs in the balance,
the covers are removed.
only the man who dares to be man
will survive the coming flood!
and hand in hand left naked
will build a garden in the ruins.
when light reveals the heart that feels,
and the skulls rise and speak...
children drenched in ash and oil,
warm by fires that stroke the night.
when nothing sleeps with nothing,
and the skies weep with stars!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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There Wont Be Many Coming Home
(orbison/ dees)
Listen all you people
Try and understand
You may be a soldier
Woman, child or man
But there wont be many coming home
No, there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many
Maybe ten out of twenty
But there wont be many coming home
Now the old folks will remember
On that dark and dismal day
How their hearts were choked with pride
As their children marched away
Now the glory is all gone
They are left alone
And there wont be many coming home
No, there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many
Maybe five out of twenty
But there wont be many coming home
Look real closely at the soldier
Coming at you through the haze
He may be the younger brother who ran away
And before you kill another
Listen to what I say
Oh, there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many
There may not be any
But there wont be many coming home
If they all came back but one
He was still some mothers son
And there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many coming home
Oh, there wont be many coming home.......
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snow Dance For The Dead
Dance, little children ... it is holy twilight . . .
Have you hung paper flowers about the necks of the ikons?
Dance soft . . . but very gaily ... on tip-toes like the snow.
Spread your little pinafores
And courtesy as the snow does . . .
The snow that bends this way and that
In silent salutation.
Do not wait to warm your hands about the fires.
Do not mind the rough licking of the wind.
Dance forth into the shaggy night that shakes itself upon you.
Dance beneath the Kremlin towers—golden
In the royal
Purple of the sky—
But not there where the light is strongest . . .
Bright hair is dazzling in the light.
Dance in the dim violet places
Where the snow throws out a faint lustre
Like the lustre of dead faces . . .
Snow downier than wild-geese feathers . . .
Enough filling for five hundred pillows ...
By the long deep trench of the dead.
Bend, little children,
To the rhythm of the snow
That undulates this way and that
In silver spirals.
Cup your hands like tiny chalices . . .
Let the flakes fill up the rosy
Hollows of your palms
And alight upon your hair,
Like kisses that cling softly
A moment and let go ...
Like many kisses falling altogether . . .
Quick . . . cool kisses.
poem by Lola Ridge
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Holding My Toes
An evening primrose glides,
on my rough hands.
I pluck a laugh from the lips,
of a parched face.
It knows the meaning of death,
kissing the pink eyes.
Of the lost fidelity
and the innocence of the dying sun.
How to tell myself,
you are not coming.
Gradually the house,
will go back to its still air.
The white ants,
will draw a pattern
on the stale books.
The traffic of private tears,
will begin to move.
The truth is a happening,
with all the little gods.
I demand nothing,
only pink rose buds, of early winter.
There is no one to know,
that weeping grass,
keeps me touching,
holding my toes.
poem by Satish Verma
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Charmed
Carve thy name into my heart,
in stead of stressed i lay here charmed
Charmed by the anger in my heart,
But the charm is coming undone
As thy carves in my heart with a bloody knife
Showing no mercy
Leaving open wounds bleeding profusely,
Wounds shown to the world
In this living black hell i see your eyes,
and the light flashing in them
Your blue tears mixing with my black tears healing me,
the charm of anger coming undone
taking part of me with it,
my anger at you and the blood i lost to you
So go on i will not shriek in pian,
carve anything in my bleeding heart
I shall only cry mixing my black no,
now my blue tears with yours
healing my bloody heart leting,
out the anger thats been charmed in me
poem by Abby Sowers
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Some Mothers Son
Some mothers son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mothers son today
Head blown up by some soldiers gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mothers son aint coming home today
Some mothers son aint got no grave
Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead
Some mothers son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mothers son is lying dead
Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away
Some mothers son lies in a field
But in his mothers eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away
They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Dusk To Dusk
The dazzling star
went through me.
I was undemanding
from dusk to dusk
hurting myself, not anybody.
Time to meet my twin,
to set he black on orange.
My guilt, my fear, my foreboding.
Let go off, my sap in the twigs,
fruits were coming down.
Under the guise of innocence
eruptiness entered into non-thought.
One by one snakes unrolled
with black eyes, under the succulent breasts,
the black poison clapping the pink lips.
The dirt was spreading
on the hands of unborn children.
Their eyes searching the seeds.
On dark beads of mother.
Father had been killed in a cave.
poem by Satish Verma
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New Millenium Homes
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as the wheat grows strong
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as they reach for the dawn
Tha spirit of jackson
Now screams through tha ruins
Through factory chainsand tha ghost of tha union
Forgotten remains
Disappear to their new homes
Tha knife tha thrust
Tha life burns to the raw bone
Tha blood on the floor of the tear is still dryin
Cover the spread sheets
Tha dow jones skyin
Cell block live stock
Tha bodies their buyin
Old south order
New northern horizon
Violence in all hands
Embrace it if need be
(violence in all hands, embrace it if need be)
Livin been warfare
I press it to cd
(livin been warfare, I press it to cd)
Violence in all hands
Embrace it if need be
(violence in all hands, embrace it if need be)
Livin been warfare
I press it to cd
(livin been warfare, I press it to cd)
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as the wheat grows strong
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as they reach for the dawn
Yo, yo
Check tha high tech terror
Yes tha new order athletes
Peer into tha eyes of tha child already on trial
Armies rippin families apart
Get em on file
Convictions fit tha stock profile
All tha while films of dogs
Cutting through homes
Ripping skin from bones
Yes tha new millennium homes
Privatizing through private eyes
An era rising
Of tha old south order
New northern horizon
Violence in all hands
Embrace it if need be
(violence in all hands, embrace it if need be)
Livin been warfare
I press it to cd
(livin been warfare, I press it to cd)
Violence in all hands
Embrace it if need be
(violence in all hands, embrace it if need be)
Livin been warfare
I press it to cd
(livin been warfare, I press it to cd)
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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