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Ephemeral Soul

Grey Detroit landscape
Trying to weep;
Every heart is heavy
With withering love.

I've become
A faded newspaper
Blowing down the street
With inconsequential words.

I'm incapable of understanding
The ephemeral soul
Swimming into oblivion

And away from my embraces.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Detroit City (Lyrics)

Me and Iggy were giggin' with Ziggy and kickin' with the MC5
Ted and Seger were burnin' with fever
and let the Silver bullets fly
The Kid was in his crib, shady wore a bib
and the posse wasn`t even alive
Shock rock choppin' block, songs to make your heart stop
Shovie it in ta overdrive

Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...

Well I was born there
Gonna die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City

There`s a riot raging downtown
Tryin' to burn the place down
Skies glowin; red and grey
But the Riff kept a Rockin'
The Creem kept a-talkin'
And the streets still smokin' today

Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...

Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean streets
Detroit City

Six mile seven mile eight mile nine mile
ten mile eleven mile Detroit city

Louder
Faster
Louder
Detroit City

Well I was born there
Gonna die there
We don`t belong here
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
Hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City

Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City

poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Detroit City

Me and Iggy were giggin' with Ziggy and kickin' with the MC5
Ted and Seger were burnin' with fever
And let the Silver Bullets fly
The Kid was in his crib, Shady wore a bib
And the Posse wasn't even alive
Shock rock choppin' block, songs to make your heart stop
Shovin' it in to overdrive
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
There's a riot raging downtown
Tryin' to burn the place down
Skies glowin' red and gray
But the Riff kept a rockin'
The Creem kept a talkin'
And the streets still smokin' today
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean streets
Detroit City
Six mile seven mile eight mile nine mile ten mile eleven mile
Detroit City
Louder
Faster
Louder
Detroit City
Well, I was born there
Gonna die there
We don't belong here
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
Hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
Well, I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Detroit

(ian hunter)
(transcribed by nicole apostola)
He used to ride through the streets, crying through the alleyway
Freezing cold in the early morning light
Out to get a salary
Detroit, detroit
Tv image ain't gonna pay the bills
Big big cars
Detroit, detroit
The fan
Detroit, detroit
Big big shots
Got their heads in the sand
The usual
(buzzing cars noises from ian)
You're late
Detroit, detroit
He's a working man
Ghost town
Ghost town
(indistinguishable sounds, laughs)
The loneliest man in the world

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Detroit (Out Take 5 - Vocal)

(ian hunter)
(transcribed by nicole apostola)
He used to ride through the streets, crying through the alleyway
Freezing cold in the early morning light
Out to get a salary
Detroit, detroit
Tv image aint gonna pay the bills
Big big cars
Detroit, detroit
The fan
Detroit, detroit
Big big shots
Got their heads in the sand
The usual
(buzzing cars noises from ian)
Youre late
Detroit, detroit
Hes a working man
Ghost town
Ghost town
(indistinguishable sounds, laughs)
The loneliest man in the world

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Manatee

manatee that soothes my
soul
my free thought and speech
is swimming in my
heart and left
hand
i love the stick
of sound i play you every
summer for a sum
fourteen hundred
flowers in a field that
my sister spirit danced
in. Death con-
sumes
ME.
Me all the time. I I I
I.
I love. I hate I
BREATHE.
BREATHE MY
heavy, heavy, heavy LIGHT
flatulation.
Flat, flat is my soul.
Flat is her chest.
7. is my four.
i love my flours. Flours make.
cookies.
I love manatee.
Sex my macadamia man-nuts.

poem by Madam Poontang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Raining My Son

It's raining my son.... The autumn is wet,
Wet like the eyes of a poor beguiled love....
Go, close the window, and close the door,
Then come beside me, come, face me seated

In silence supreme.... It's raining my son.
Does it rain sometimes also in your soul?
Does your heart chill too? and do you shiver
Reflecting on the bright and bygone sun

Behind one of the closed doors of destiny?
But you weep my son.... In darkness, at once
Heavy tears outflow from your wet, wet eyes....

Weep, weep the tears of soon lost innocence;
Weep without knowing, my poor unwise son,
The poor prey of life; weep that you may grow.

poem by Vahan Tekeyan
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The Grey World

Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.

Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.

Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.

poem by Leon Gellert
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Weep not, Brokenhearted

Let's attempt to foil
A possible emotional turmoil
Our tempers have been set to boil

Shame! You blame
The very existence of my name
For the aftermath of our fun game
I feel the same, I feel the same

Weep not, Brokenhearted
Weep! Weep! Not

You insisted you wanted only fun
Today you talk of me as if a con
Now that your heart is worn and torn

Weep not, Brokenhearted
Weep! Weep! Not

I thought fun for a couple of days
After we’ll go our separate ways
I simply cannot understand
How I have led you astray

You said the words, you needed fun, you were bored

Weep not, Brokenhearted
Weep! Weep! Not

Once you sung the words to your song
I locked my heart with a key
Threw it away, so of you I would be free

Copyright 2006 -Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Classifications Of An Attitude

There you can feel my heart,
There you can see my lover;
Do not weep, for my love is for you only.
There you can taste my love,
There you can see my muse;
Do not weep, because i love you.
Deep is your love towards my heart,
So do not weep my sweet one;
For your dream is now like the cleanliness of your compound.

With a sweep,
With a sleep,
With the things that lovers do at times;
And like the classifications of an attitude from a need.

Come to me my love and,
Let us get into my Jeep;
For you need a better clean up from ym house,
And like the words of love in the land of romance.

I am a lover and my gratitude is shown without words,
And like the freshwater ound to watch at times;
I love you and someday somewhere we will marry,
With love over the hills and over the planes.

The order of the day is for you to dry up your tears,
And like the moment of the truth and the moment of love;
For my love is what you need!
So dry up your tears.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heavy Water

I walked out in the city night,
A burning in my eyes, like it was broad daylight.
And it was hot, down there in the crowd.
The stars went out behind a thunder cloud.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and its hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now theyre pouring
Heavy water on me.
She was a southern girl. we stared man to man.
I move like a stranger in this strange land.
She was a round hole, I was a square peg.
I watched the little black specks running down her leg.
Didnt seem to mind that dirty rain coming down ---
Shirt hanging open. she was wet and brown.
Thumping in my heart, and its hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now theyre pouring
Heavy water on me.
What goes up has to fall back down.
Its no night to be out dancing in a party town
When it runs hot and it runs so wide ---
Running in the street like a thin black tide.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and its hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now theyre pouring
Heavy water on me.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worn Out

Thy strong arms are around me, love
My head is on thy breast;
Low words of comfort come from thee
Yet my soul has no rest.

For I am but a startled thing
Nor can I ever be
Aught save a bird whose broken wing
Must fly away from thee.

I cannot give to thee the love
I gave so long ago,
The love that turned and struck me down
Amid the blinding snow.

I can but give a failing heart
And weary eyes of pain,
A faded mouth that cannot smile
And may not laugh again.

Yet keep thine arms around me, love,
Until I fall to sleep;
Then leave me, saying no goodbye
Lest I might wake, and weep.

poem by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Day

I never went to the tropical island
Though everybody said they saw me there
And it wasnt me you punched a hole in
At the west german protest march
Simultaneous events dont happen
We are isolated temporally
And a part is never called the whole thing
Though it bothers us to know its so
Every man is made of two opinions
Every woman has a second half
And its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
I didnt write the words you hear me singing (didnt write the words you hear me singing)
I didnt sing the line before this one (didnt sing the line before this one)
You are not the one I was addressing (you are not the one I was addressing)
That person took a train to africa (africa)
Where he met the consulate from belgium
Who is now a buddhist in a cave
Who is pitching for the oakland raiders
Striking out the batter she became
Every man is made of two opinions
Every woman has a second half
And its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day weep day
Weep day weep day
Weep day weep day
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Final Painting

The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds

poem by Lee Harwood
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What brings understanding is love. When your heart is full, then you will listen to the teacher, to the beggar, to the laughter of children, to the rainbow, and to the sorrow of man. Under every stone and leaf, that which is eternal exists. But we do not know how to look for it. Our minds and hearts are filled with other things than understanding of "what is". Love and mercy, kindliness and generosity do not cause enmity. When you love, you are very near truth. For, love makes for sensitivity, for vulnerability. That which is sensitive is capable of renewal. Then truth will come into being. It cannot come if your mind and heart are burdened, heavy with ignorance and animosity.

quote by Krishnamurti
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death is better than retirement.

His exit is due today.
The send off is befitting.
The eulogy is lip deep,
Not with a heart to weep.
He returns with heavy heart
He would be in them after his exit.
It is not to happen.
He has to weep ever since.
The same thing will happen
When he leaves the world
But he will not be there to weep.
27.11.2004

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a Childless Woman

You think I cannot understand. Ah, but I do...
I have been wrung with anger and compassion for you.
I wonder if you’d loathe my pity, if you knew.

But you shall know. I’ve carried in my heart too long
This secret burden. Has not silence wrought your wrong—
Brought you to dumb and wintry middle-age, with grey
Unfruitful withering?—Ah, the pitiless things I say...

What do you ask your God for, at the end of day,
Kneeling beside your bed with bowed and hopeless head?
What mercy can He give you?—Dreams of the unborn
Children that haunt your soul like loving words unsaid—
Dreams, as a song half-heard through sleep in early morn?

I see you in the chapel, where you bend before
The enhaloed calm of everlasting Motherhood
That wounds your life; I see you humbled to adore
The painted miracle you’ve never understood.

Tender, and bitter-sweet, and shy, I’ve watched you holding
Another’s child. O childless woman, was it then
That, with an instant’s cry, your heart, made young again,
Was crucified for ever—those poor arms enfolding
The life, the consummation that had been denied you?
I too have longed for children. Ah, but you must not weep.
Something I have to whisper as I kneel beside you...
And you must pray for me before you fall asleep.

poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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The Background

Everything is quiet since youre not around
And I live in the numbness now
In the background
I do the things we did before
I walk haight street to the store
And they say wheres that crazy girl
You dont get drunk on red wine and fight no more
I dont see you anymore since the hospital
The plans I make still have you in them
Cause you come swimming into view
And Im hanging on your words
Like I always used to do
The words they use so lightly
I only feel for you
I only know because I carry you around
In the background
Im in the background
Words they come and memories all repeat
I lift your head while they change the hospital sheets
And I would never lie to you no
I would never lie to you no
I felt you long after we were through, we were through
The plans I make still have you in them
Cause you come swimming into view
And Im hanging on your words
Like I always used to do
The words they use so lightly
I only feel for you
I only know because I carry you around
In the background
Cause I felt you long after we were through
Well you come swimming into view
And Im hanging on your words
Like I always used to do
The words they use so lightly
I only feel to you
I only know because
Im way Im way in the background
Im in the background

song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blubber

weep not
the willows are singing
weep not
the winds are blowing
weep not
utter nothing
lips swell
sleep well
the distortion
is over

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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January 17

January 17
Two years ago.
Your love flew into oblivion
So
- Silent that bird
Into the tender night.
Through ill wind I heard
That my dreams had taken flight.
On a train
The landscape mourned in grey.
As my life blood ebbed away.
Or maybe
Dried in the veins.
Baby
I cried
Indelible stains, I could not hide.
'Un- Yellable 'pains.
Acid burns my soul like sin.
Her placid eyes of coal, within
- Flamed
Maimed
My worried mind.
Now mute
I join the deaf and blind.
Once young face of love
With scars now lined.
Now a man of old age
Alights the train.
Wildfire rage ignites his brain.
In a choir now of all lovers insane.
Slow death will be the curse.
And bygone days his only nurse.

poem by Kevin East
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An Engrossed Mother

Pitch dark is the spectrum of night,
In the lawn, at the door,
And on the boundary wall
Tyranny is a sentinel.
When the winds blow swishingly,
Worn out windows
Begin to weep and wail and at moment
When a tiny glow-worm begins to glow,
Since years door-clung sighing mother,
Recalls the memories of her son,
Years ago went on to combat for the king
In search of ephemeral victory,
Whose taste vanishes before it is cherished.
Her rosy-red perturbed eyes,
Incarnate the scattered agony,
She speaks,
Ambiguous words with the withering lips;
The story of defeat and exodus is inscribed
On the lines of her cold-stunned hands,
She looks engrossed into the vacancy
And becomes attentive
On each rustle of the wind.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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