The Tombstone-Maker
He primmed his loose red mouth and leaned his head
Against a sorrowing angel’s breast, and said:
‘You’d think so much bereavement would have made
‘Unusual big demands upon my trade.
‘The War comes cruel hard on some poor folk;
‘Unless the fighting stops I’ll soon be broke.’
He eyed the Cemetery across the road.
‘There’s scores of bodies out abroad, this while,
‘That should be here by rights. They little know’d
‘How they’d get buried in such wretched style.’
I told him with a sympathetic grin,
That Germans boil dead soldiers down for fat;
And he was horrified. ‘What shameful sin!
‘O sir, that Christian souls should come to that!’
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Related quotes
Unfit
With younger men he takes his stand,
To the recruiting-sergeant nigh,
Sees others chosen: lifts a hand
In hopes to catch the unwilling eye,
While his mood turns to black despair
Heedless of those that grin and stare.
Careless of jibe and jeer he waits,
Thrusts himself where the eye must fall,
A voice, indifferent as Fate's,
Orders 'Stand back!' and that is all.
'Too old!' He steps down to make room
For younger men more slow to come.
Too old at fifty! But he feels
There's lots of fighting in him yet.
Some hint of glory lifts, reveals,
In the smirched days he would forget.
They might blot out the shameful past
If he fell fighting at the last.
If he could meet them, one poor rag
Of glory cast about his shame --
One rag of glory! England's flag
Wrapping in splendour his poor frame!
And all the people he once knew
Saying 'He died as white men do!'
Mirage! Such dreams as come with sleep!
And he is innocent and small,
Running through orchard grasses deep
To his dead mother's tender call;
Before he broke her heart and bowed
His father's comely head and proud.
There's nothing left to hope for more.
Poor fool, to think he might atone!
He sees in a mist a fast-shut door.
Shambling and blear-eyed and alone
He goes, and darkness covers him,
Who saw the glory and the gleam.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Azure Eyed Angel
My azure eyed angel
With her I’m so vulnerable
And for once, I do not care
As long as she is near
My azure eyed angel
Never knew one so beautiful
And when she smiles, my heart, it drops
I pray this never stops
My azure eyed angel
I don’t know how she pierced my soul
Yet now she’s in, won’t ever leave
My faded memory
My azure eyed angel
My feelings, unmistakable
She’s taken from me, my sad heart
And gave it a new start
My azure eyed angel
Her mind is impenetrable
I wish she’d let me see inside
I want to see her cry
My azure eyed angel
It hurts to see her miserable
I want to hold her close to me
And gently hear her breathe
My azure eyed angel
Afraid to tell her how I’ve felt
Afraid of what could come of this
Afraid of finding bliss
poem by Ryan Holmes
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Everybody Dance (The Dance Of The Dead)
As the sun sinks upon the horizon,
As the dark night creeps in,
The dead dance.
On the streets they roam,
Silent,
Alone.
Everybody dances,
The saints and the sinners,
Everybody dances,
To the sound of the rhythm,
Everybody dances,
The dance of the dead.
The dance of the dead goes on,
And on,
Never stops,
Never slows,
Time does not matter to the dead.
Everybody dances,
The poor and the rich,
Everybody dances,
To the cries to the babies,
Everybody dances,
The dance of the dead.
As your time goes up,
The dead dance into your room,
Filled with silent movements,
They twirl with grace,
And style
And ease.
They reach out their hands,
And you take it,
And join the dance of the dead.
Everybody dance,
The young and the old,
Everybody dance,
The music is playing,
Everybody dance,
To the dance of the dead.
C’mon,
Everybody dance,
Soldiers and lovers,
Oh,
Everybody dance,
To sound they cry,
So,
Everybody dance,
To the dance of the dead,
The dance of the dead.
Oh,
Everybody dances,
Because the dance never stops.
6/05/06
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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The Complaints Of The Poor
And wherefore do the Poor complain?
The rich man asked of me,--
Come walk abroad with me, I said
And I will answer thee.
Twas evening and the frozen streets
Were cheerless to behold,
And we were wrapt and coated well,
And yet we were a-cold.
We met an old bare-headed man,
His locks were few and white,
I ask'd him what he did abroad
In that cold winter's night:
'Twas bitter keen indeed, he said,
But at home no fire had he,
And therefore, he had come abroad
To ask for charity.
We met a young bare-footed child,
And she begg'd loud and bold,
I ask'd her what she did abroad
When the wind it blew so cold;
She said her father was at home
And he lay sick a-bed,
And therefore was it she was sent
Abroad to beg for bread.
We saw a woman sitting down
Upon a stone to rest,
She had a baby at her back
And another at her breast;
I ask'd her why she loiter'd there
When the wind it was so chill;
She turn'd her head and bade the child
That scream'd behind be still.
She told us that her husband served
A soldier, far away,
And therefore to her parish she
Was begging back her way.
We met a girl; her dress was loose
And sunken was her eye,
Who with the wanton's hollow voice
Address'd the passers by;
I ask'd her what there was in guilt
That could her heart allure
To shame, disease, and late remorse?
She answer'd, she was poor.
I turn'd me to the rich man then
For silently stood he,
You ask'd me why the Poor complain,
And these have answer'd thee.
poem by Robert Southey
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Christian soldier
The Christian Soldier,
The Christian soldier goes to fight, a war on evil, every day and night,
Fighting for what the Lord God says. Is only right, with all their might;
They fight the enemy, for peace and truth, yet they are so brave,
And Jesus showed why we go, when He died our souls to save.
The Christian soldier has his armor, his breast plate, and His helmet too,
Then comes feet shod with the preparation of peace, this is True
Truth and Mercy are on the soldiers side, for the enemies destruction,
And with it comes the sword of God, and we're safe under Gods redemption.
The Christian Soldier, those, who have been washed and bought with a price,
The price of the lamb, And we'll win the war, against the enemy who isn't nice;
We have the Words of Christ, bestowed on us, promises from above,
They're full of Wisdom, truth, and justice, they were given to us in love.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Howl (The Returning)
black eyed, hungry teeth,
souls drawn tight through a needle.
displaced, desolate,
lives packed on borrowed trucks.
padlocked doors, Wall Street roars,
dead soldiers coming home.
street corners, somebody's daughter,
selling shadows wrapped in dreams.
religious freaks, hangman's noose,
dark glasses see only white!
Christians and Muslims, russian roulette,
hollow threats and doomsday lies.
starving children, doors locked,
faces turned away.!
oil rigs pumping, dry humping,
the earth screams, 'it's rape'!
protesters marching, riot squads,
take away your rights.
prisons full, hard degrees,
anger has a price!
lovers meet, passion burns,
scars left by point of change.
wild eyed addicts, guns in hand,
taking what they need.
the righteous wake, it's too late,
their enemies their brothers.
mountains crumble, trees fall,
rivers full of sludge.
war cries, patriot lies,
grease the grimy wheel.
suffocate, dedicate,
dead bodies to the ground.
faceless rise, tired of lies,
too damned hungry to care.
common folk, dressed in black,
lift unspoken prayers!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Mr. No
Mr. no
There it was door but he said no, so he crawl into the window, there it was a bicycle but he said no so he walk a road with no end.
Everybody laugh but he put a sour face and bad attitude and everybody got in a bad mood with his rude mouth and ways.
It was raining and they told him to get inside but his pride was too high so his new outfit got all wet and damage for the rain that was pouring.
The sun was bright and hot so they give him a hat but he stomp on it and broke it so now he can't even seat down to play his violin.
One day Mr. no was swimming by the river but earlier he was eating the sandwich that everybody told him to wait to eat after he finish swimming but he said no so now his drowning.
Mr. no I shake my head, he die alone because everybody said no to his help when he was drowning
poem by Christian K. Montiel
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Aaron
Holiness on the head,
Light and perfection on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To led them unto life and rest.
Thus are true Aarons dressed.
Profaneness in my head,
Defects and darkness in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest.
Poor priest thus am I dressed.
Only another head
I have, another heart and breast,
another music, making live not dead,
without whom I could have no rest:
In him I am well dressed.
Christ is my only head,
My alone only heart and breast,
My only music, striking me even dead;
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in him new dressed.
So holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my dear breast,
My doctrine tuned by Christ, (who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest)
Come people; Aaron's dressed.
poem by George Herbert
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Let's Remember Those Soldiers
Let's remember those soldiers
No matter alive or dead
Hold them dear to our hearts
And keep their memories in our heads
Let's remember those soldiers
As they fight on foreign lands
And pray they make it back home
Because it is all up to Gods hands
Let's remember those soldiers
And the hell they are going through
Praise them when they get home
For all they've done for me and you
Let's remember those soldiers
And their families they left behind
Should you know some of these families
Try and treat them a little more kind
Let's remember those soldiers
They are fighting for our rights
Before you go to sleep tonight
Say a prayer for them tonight
Let's remember those soldiers
And let them know that we care
But for the grace of God
We might be the ones over there
Let's remember those soldiers
And let's wish them all the best
May they all make it back home
So we all can get some rest
Let's remember those soldiers
Even ones from wars of the past
Though some are dead and gone
Let's make sure their memories last
Let's remember those soldiers
And docs and nurses in those camps
Taking care of the wounded
Let's put their faces on postage stamps
Let's remember those soldiers
And not just count them as a loss
For they are truely the ones
That pay the ultimate cost
wrote 3/7/2008 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
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Hard Road
(h. vanda / g. young)
My mama n papa told me son that youre just a fool
When I told em I was leaving home I was leaving school
So then in a couple of hours I found myself
Heading down that southbound road
With everything I owned on my back
I carried such a heavy load
And its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel down the line
And its a hard, hard road down the line
Well I wanna tell ya friends
That its good to be a traveling man
cause Im doing what I want to
Living just the best that I can
Nobody putting rings around my neck
To put me in a pigeon hole
Ive got my dog and my radio
To listen to some rock n roll
And its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel down the line
And its a hard, hard road down the line
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Looking For Footprints
I want a back seat,
Because Im dead beat,
Im respirating,
Two [souls / soles] of the [ape here]
Gives us sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
The road ahead it takes us to our bed,
Sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
Our minds they race but our bodies are dead.
Just like looking for footprints
Looking for footprints
The lights are twisted,
Each one is misted,
To far and counting,
Head nod in twenty.
Gives us sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
The road ahead it takes us to our bed,
Sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
Our minds they race but our bodies are dead.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking For Footprints
I want a back seat,
Because Im dead beat,
Im respirating,
Two [souls / soles] of the [ape here]
Gives us sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
The road ahead it takes us to our bed,
Sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
Our minds they race but our bodies are dead.
Just like looking for footprints
Looking for footprints
The lights are twisted,
Each one is misted,
To far and counting,
Head nod in twenty.
Gives us sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
The road ahead it takes us to our bed,
Sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
Our minds they race but our bodies are dead.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is Freedom Free? ? ?
America, Land of the Free',
We know the phrase like the back of our hands
We say it pridefully with our flag flying high,
As we sing to the tune with the marching bands
Yet is freedom really free?
Our ancestors had to fight the English,
They had to earn what we take for granted today
Blood was shed and tears were cried,
But there was no alternate way
So tell me is freedom really free?
The Confederates and the Union went head to head,
The Civil War tore America in two
The African Americans had to fight for their rights,
They had to pay the price to do what they wanted to do
Yet we still think Freedom is really free?
Women fought for their right to be equals,
They fought for their rights to work and vote
They stumbled upon a lot of road blocks,
But they never gave up their hope
And you think Freedom is really free?
Even today we are still fighting for our freedom,
Soldiers abroad are defending our rights
Protecting our people and our homeland,
And losing thier lives in the fights
And still you say Freedom is really free?
It's something we don't always think about,
It's something we all take with a grain of salt
But what if one day, you would wake up and it was all gone,
Who do you think would be at fault?
You see little by little they're drawing the strings,
Your privacy can be invaded
Telephones tapped and cameras in your home,
If ever you are suspected
They say in order to keep us safe and our freedom intact,
They have to take such drastic measures
But stop and think for one minute,
What is the purpose of all these pleasures?
If Freedom isn't really free?
poem by Elizabeth U. Adams
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Old Fighting-Men
All the world over, nursing their scars,
Sit the old fighting-men broke in the wars--
Sit the old fighting-men, surly and grim
Mocking the lilt of the conquerors' hymn.
Dust of the battle o'erwhelmed them and hid.
Fame never found them for aught that they did.
Wounded and spent to the lazar they drew,
Lining the road where the Legions roll through.
Sons of the Laurel who press to your meed,
(Worthy God's pity most--you who succeed!)
Ere you go triumphing, crowned, to the stars,
Pity poor fighting-men, broke in the wars!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Cemetery Drive
cemetery drive,
covered in mist,
driving down the road,
so cold,
the crypts and tombstones cast dark shadow,
the bats and the wind,
grimly howl,
cemetery drive,
a place of shadow,
cemetery drive,
tall dead trees,
comfort the dead,
black roses grow along the road,
they fight the cold,
and give the living hope,
the living hope their hearts never stop,
and they'll never have to call cemetery drive home,
and tend to the shadows and black roses
poem by Catie Belle Stark
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Eyes Of An Angel
She once looked into an angel's eyes.
No matter how hard that angel tries,
The angel can't disguse,
The compassion in the angel's eyes.
The angel denies,
The angel doesn't see the tears she cries,
Every time the angel comes near, a peice of hear heart dies,
All because of the angel's eyes.
She hates the angel, but the angel's eyes,
Make up for all the lies,
And at night the angel flies,
Watches her dream about the angel's eyes.
She stops and sighs,
Stops crying when she really tries,
Thinks about pain and its enormous size,
Then, yet again, cries.
The tears she cries,
The heart that dies,
When she sighs,
Will they ever be noticed by the angel's eyes?
poem by Jackie Crow
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True Soldier
You're off in war
While the love of your life is here
Be sure to come back
Be sure to come back for her
Don't forget the sights of our U.S.A.
The freedoms along with every privilege
Every privilege
Every privilege
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
Our affection is w/ you along w/ our pride
Keep us alive
Keep us alive
the tattoo on your arm reminds you of death
And friends who have died
The friend who has died
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
Down on her knees your mom prays for you
She's begging the Lord to bring you home safe
Come home safe
Please come home safe
Fly in the sky w/ all of your crew
Don't close your eyes the enemy stays true
You know what they can do
You know what they can do
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
*song for my amazing uncle overseas right now
Lonely Old Road
I went down a lonely old road,
They said was keeping me home,
One day I will know about,
Down that lonely old road I was to be told,
How come no one told me to go down this lonely old road?
I felt that I didn't know anything beyond this lonely old road,
Come to think of it,
I don't because this lonely old road,
Is all I know,
No one told me about this darn lonely old road,
I tried to keep my head held high,
Gravity pressed my head down,
I was walking around,
Saying I'm walking down this lonely old road,
If you should ever see me,
All you have to do is wave that hand of yours,
Telling me to go down this lonely old road,
I might smirk at first,
Because you told me to go down this lonely old road,
But you also heard me out,
Before I went on this journey,
On this lonely old road,
Just know that one day,
I'll get off this lonely old road,
I'll have something to show,
About this lonely old road.
poem by Qeeony Luv
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Every tear you shed for the dead you love
Reminds them of the earth people who love them
And the dead are now confused
To go or not to go
To finally leave and be full-fledged souls to the other world
Every tear confuses them
And you are so cruel, you shed so many tears
Enough for the dead to be restless and crazy,
Please stop crying, let the dead go, we just buried them.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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