Steps of Gold (Cold War)
After victory the Cold War struck,
The golden steps destroyed,
That rememberance we all shared,
War took the toll again.
But this one lasted thirty years,
Never to end or start,
Nicely though there wasn't war,
In this crimson heart.
It was an arms race to the end,
God forbid open war,
For if war occured death would strike,
The men tired and confused.
The golden steps never came back,
The ones to peace and bliss,
But that is only a wish in the future,
A golden wish that is.
My poem's short unlike the war,
For death is inexpressible,
In words or actions nothing good comes,
Like many people say, for the WW1, WW2 and the Cold War,
'Two bad things, daren't equal something good'
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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Related quotes
From Lome
17 and 48 years old,
13 and 34 years old,
Status! !
Peace and care,
Rum, ram, rim, ream, realm!
Rivalry,
Resistance,
Patience,
Feelings,
But, i am from Lome! !
Photography,
25 and 60 years old,
28 and 51 years old,
Compilations! !
Disk,
Disc,
Logic,
Logistic,
In the garden of snakes!
Like the golden snake;
But, you need the golden stick for your freedom.
The golden ball,
The golden gate,
The golden hole,
But with the freedom torch!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Marching Troops
Exert distance and take gigantic steps,
With pity the wicked shall make steps:
Who shall win and adjourn?
Who will carry the flag of victory?
A race is won on the steps taken,
And innocence must win again.
Soldiers who do hear the request of their generals,
Will face death when the dying occurs,
No soldier or troop or cavalier is exempt - they grind.
Who shall gain their victory?
You know and you know.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Rule Your Own World
The golden stool,
The golden love,
The golden horse,
The golden muse,
The golden egg;
But cleanliness is next to excellence! !
And like the joy of peace,
But, try to rule your world in peace without hurting your neighbour.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Am Too Tired To Write A Good Poem
I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE A GOOD POEM
I am too tired to write a good poem
I am too cold also
I have been out all day in the cold and the rain
I have been doing errands since early in the morning
I babysat for four hours in the afternoon
I went out again in the cold and rain to buy a few groceries
I tried to write and could not
I read and overate a few times
I tried to write
But I could not
I am very tired now
A poem should not be a simple clear description of one’s own mood at the moment
I am too tired to write a good poem
But I try to write
And this is the result
A poor poem indeed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Golden Eagle
In the bottom of an old greasy swamp, lies a golden eagle, it's shine now covered in grime.
It lies here, forgotten witness of the brave few who dare to venture where none ever do.
This golden eagle, doth many scars bear, tis many grooves where swords did tear.
Came they from a terrible fight, on a cold blustery day, where the hope of an army was blown away.
Hundreds of weary hungry men, tramping through unfamiliar ground, when in the midst of an ambush they were found.
These weary men, they were tired and cold. They raised the swords, though outnumbered, they were bold.
As the barbarians tore through their withering lines, and as their screaming comrades were consumed by fire,
They gripped the swords, and bid their families farewell, stood back to back, as the enemy did into their columns hack.
In the midst of this carnage, floated the golden eagle, symbol of their hope, their integrity, dream, and goal.
Round the eagle, they now stood, desperately outnumbered by an enemy their distant commanders had misunderstood.
They gave no quarter, expected none. Rallied round that golden eagle, and held together as one.
That eagle, it witnessed the havoc that they made as the enemy in cascades came.
It saw their courage in the face of death. The things they gave when they had nothing left.
It saw the lions rise from their sleep, the final blaze of glory, the heroics that make us weep.
Though all hope was lost, they still fought on like it was there, the golden eagle the focus of their care.
Till finally, the last man had fallen. With his last breath threw the man the eagle into the water.
Never would it fall into enemy hands, it would be the silent witness of these fallen men.
Though defeated, yet they fought on. Though hope was gone, still they fought on and on.
Their dream they never let die, heros they died, heroes for which the people would cry.
Golden eagle, doesn't alway mean victory. But the golden eagle, will never give in.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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(I Will) Start All Over Again
The lights of the city
Look good when you're leaving
You don't even count what you lost
The streets and their madness
Make my heart so sad
They will never be worth what they cost
Take me to the mountain
I want to see the other side
Oh give me one golden day
And I won't care where I've been
Oh let this world slip away
And I'll start all over again
I will start all over again
I'm through with the struggle
And tired of the trouble
It's high time I left it behind
I've walked the mean streets
Just counting my heartbeats
It's easy to lose your mind
I'll break the chains that bind me
For my soul is deep and wide
Oh give me one golden day
And I won't care where I've been
Oh let this world slip away
And I'll start all over again
I will start all over again
As sure as the sun keeps rising on me
I'll find a place where I ought to be
Oh give me one golden day
And I won't care where I've been
Oh let this world slip away
And I'll start all over again
I will start all over again
And I won't care where I've been
Oh let this world slip away
And I'll start all over again
I will start all over again Over again
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've Got a Golden Ticket
I never thought my life could be
Anything but catastrophe
But suddenly I begin to see
A bit of good luck for me
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden twinkle in my eye
I never had a chance to shine
Never a happy song to sing
But suddenly half the world is mine
What an amazing thing
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
It's ours, Charlie
I've got a golden sun up in the sky
I never thought I'd see the day
When I would face the world and say
Good morning, look at the sun
I never thought that I would be
Slap in the lap of luxury'
Cause I'd have said it couldn't be done
But it can be done
I never dreamed that I would climb
Over the moon in ecstasy
But nevertheless, it's there that I'm
Shortly about to be
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden chance to make my way
And with a golden ticket, it's a golden day
Good morning, look at the sun'
Cause I'd have said it couldn't be done
But it can be done
I never dreamed that I would climb
Over the moon in ecstasy
But nevertheless, it's there that I'm
Shortly about to be
'Cause I've got a golden ticket'
Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden chance to make my way
And with a golden ticket, it's a golden day
poem by Roald Dahl
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Golden Touch
Golden touch
I was broken till you came along
You put the words back into my song
In your world is where I now belong
Golden touch is it that I love you so much
I was lost till I met you
I now love everything you do
I live now just because of you
Golden touch
Your are the object of my desire
I am like a cat on a high wire
For you I would walk in front of gunfire
Golden touch
This to you I must confess
Your mind and body I want to possess
I long for you to kiss and caress
Golden touch my Liege
You are the key to my success
My love I can no longer suppress
You are a beautiful princess
Golden touch
To me I grant you total access
With you I feel no distress
You have driven me to total madness
Golden touch
No longer these thoughts I can suppress
With my eyes you I’ve undress
If the world would know I could care less
Golden touch
These words I wish to you to express
You’ve brought me out of my sadness
You’ve driven back the darkness
You are my goddess and my empress
Golden touch
I wasn’t quite right and you made me see the light
You are what I’ve been longing for
With your love I could never want more
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Golden Rain
There is no Golden rain in real life
But in our dreams you and I see it clear
It falls from the sky
It paints our face golden like the sun
It doesn’t matter in the dream
Because it is only in the dream that can happen
The trees and the flowers and the grass are golden also
Nothing like that would had happen in real life
Because in real life the rain is silver
And our face doesn’t change color with the rain
It only happens in our dream
Weird things happen when we are dreaming
The are no birds to see
What a strange land this is
No house
No cars
No bus
No other people
But you and me
That Golden rain keeps falling non stop
And keep raining down that creek
That Golden rain doesn’t look nice at all
Not even in our dreams
What about the weather
It is cold and miserable
It makes us even more tired
And we want to sleep more
It is happening now in our dreams
And that Golden rain in our dream is not going to hurt us
There is no acid in that Golden rain
And that land in our dream is not polluted like the land in real life
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Start All Over Again
(will jennings/annie roboff)
(track 10 - time 4:52)
The lights of the city
Look good when you're leaving
You don't even count what you lost
The streets and their madness
Make my heart so sad
They will never be worth what they cost
Take me to the mountain
I want to see the other side
Oh give me one golden day
And i won't care where i've been
Oh let this world slip away
And i'll start all over again
I will start all over again
I'm through with the struggle
And tired of the trouble
It's high time i left it behind
I've walked the mean streets
Just counting my heartbeats
It's easy to lose your mind
I'll break the chains that bind me
For my soul is deep and wide
Oh give me one golden day
And i won't care where i've been
Oh let this world slip away
And i'll start all over again
I will start all over again
As sure as the sun keeps rising on me
I'll find a place where i ought to be
Oh give me one golden day
And i won't care where i've been
Oh let this world slip away
And i'll start all over again
I will start all over again
And i won't care where i've been
Oh let this world slip away
And i'll start all over again
I will start all over againover again
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Forgetting The Past
Many things once done cannot be undone!
Like good or bad; birth or death; love or war;
But thinking of yester-years- could be fun;
Whether you had cycled or gone by car.
Could we have done things better on that day?
Rewriting pages of golden history!
These kinds of thoughts bug me even today;
What man keeps doing is great mystery!
But often ’tis late to recast the past;
We move on to the future hopefully;
As time won’t wait and we ought to be fast,
Let humans take all things most gracefully!
Fretting, fuming o’er past is of no use;
’Tis Presently good ’cause I am a Muse!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Counterpoint: Two Rooms
He, in the room above, grown old and tired;
She, in the room below, his floor her ceiling,
Pursue their separate dreams. He turns his light,
And throws himself on the bed, face down, in laughter.
She, by the window, smiles at a starlight night.
His watch—the same he has heard these cycles of ages—
Wearily chimes at seconds beneath his pillow.
The clock upon her mantelpiece strikes nine.
The night wears on. She hears dull steps above her.
The world whirs on. New stars come up to shine.
His youth—far off—he sees it brightly walking
In a golden cloud .... wings flashing about it....
Darkness
Walls it around with dripping enormous walls.
Old age, far off—or death—what do they matter?
Down the smooth purple night a streaked star falls.
She hears slow steps in the street; they chime like music,
They climb to her heart, they break and flower in beauty,
Along her veins they glisten and ring and burn.
He hears his own slow steps tread down to silence.
Far off they pass. He knows they will never return.
Far off, on a smooth dark road, he hears them faintly.
The road, like a sombre river, quietly flowing,
Moves among murmurous walls. A deeper breath
Swells them to sound: he hears his steps more clearly.
And death seems nearer to him; or he to death.
What's death?—she smiles. The cool stone hurts her elbow,
The last few raindrops gather and fall from elm-boughs,
She sees them glisten and break. The arc-lamp sings,
The new leaves dip in the warm wet air and fragrance,
A sparrbw whirs to the eaves and shakes its wings.
What's death—what's death ? The spring returns like music ;
The trees are like dark lovers who dream in starlight;
The soft grey clouds go over the stars like dreams.
The cool stone wounds her arms to pain, to pleasure.
Under the lamp a circle of wet street gleams.
And death seems far away—a thing of roses,
A golden portal where golden music closes,
Death seems far away;
And spring returns, the countless singing of lovers,
And spring returns to stay....
He, in the room above, grown old and tired,
Flings himself on the bed, face down, in laughter,
And clenches his hands, and remembers, and desires to die.
And she, by the window, smiles at a night of starlight....
The soft grey clouds go slowly across the sky.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Golden Energy
Golden energy
For the guy or gal
Whose had a hard hard day
Golden energy
To help you meet the demands
Of an energetic mate
Or a red hot date
Golden energy dripping down on you
Golden energy
Natural aphrodisiac
Golden energy
Working hard to keep you on full
Pumping iron all the way
Keeps you from being too
Too tired
Rootin bootin sure fired
Golden energy meets all requirements
Posts no bills
Poots no guff
Needs no prescriptions
Golden energy handle if you care
If you dare
Help yourself to another share
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny
Johnny left Britain running
He must have seen trouble coming
He retired to Greece
Had a few good years, pushed the boat out and searched for the golden fleece
He enjoyed those years which were good
No rowdyness or violence
Good food and evening s of silence
Simple times, no Euro or dept crisis
Now he’s at peace...with no death crisis.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Silver Veil
A bed made under silver stars,
Pressed next to golden curves, I lay here in your womb
Seeking clarity of years
In my heart a golden promise shattered,
The familiar glow pursued
Strange you never knew
Under silver veil upon cold stone, I gaze eyes closed
All things we are (were) , I am not saying
Of grace I am thirsty
To be all things for you, I bleed
my last day
my last breath
poem by Thomas L. Flores
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House Of Dust: Part 04: 04: Counterpoint: Two Rooms
He, in the room above, grown old and tired,
She, in the room below—his floor her ceiling—
Pursue their separate dreams. He turns his light,
And throws himself on the bed, face down, in laughter. . . .
She, by the window, smiles at a starlight night,
His watch—the same he has heard these cycles of ages—
Wearily chimes at seconds beneath his pillow.
The clock, upon her mantelpiece, strikes nine.
The night wears on. She hears dull steps above her.
The world whirs on. . . .New stars come up to shine.
His youth—far off—he sees it brightly walking
In a golden cloud. . . .Wings flashing about it. . . . Darkness
Walls it around with dripping enormous walls.
Old age—far off—her death—what do they matter?
Down the smooth purple night a streaked star falls.
She hears slow steps in the street—they chime like music;
They climb to her heart, they break and flower in beauty,
Along her veins they glisten and ring and burn. . . .
He hears his own slow steps tread down to silence.
Far off they pass. He knows they will never return.
Far off—on a smooth dark road—he hears them faintly.
The road, like a sombre river, quietly flowing,
Moves among murmurous walls. A deeper breath
Swells them to sound: he hears his steps more clearly.
And death seems nearer to him: or he to death.
What's death?—She smiles. The cool stone hurts her elbows.
The last of the rain-drops gather and fall from elm-boughs,
She sees them glisten and break. The arc-lamp sings,
The new leaves dip in the warm wet air and fragrance.
A sparrow whirs to the eaves, and shakes his wings.
What's death—what's death? The spring returns like music,
The trees are like dark lovers who dream in starlight,
The soft grey clouds go over the stars like dreams.
The cool stone wounds her arms to pain, to pleasure.
Under the lamp a circle of wet street gleams. . . .
And death seems far away, a thing of roses,
A golden portal, where golden music closes,
Death seems far away:
And spring returns, the countless singing of lovers,
And spring returns to stay. . . .
He, in the room above, grown old and tired,
Flings himself on the bed, face down, in laughter,
And clenches his hands, and remembers, and desires to die.
And she, by the window, smiles at a night of starlight.
. . . The soft grey clouds go slowly across the sky.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Held Accountable
We all are held accountable
On the things we do in our life
From the deeds we do, and the words we say
And from the actions that we leave behind.
As our paths they cannot be forgotten
Nor the walks or the steps we have taken
And the things we done or felt or said
They will become the future that we have been making.
As a rock that is tossed into the ocean
And as it hits upon it’s surface
The ripple effect for that rock has began
Then later we will see its effect and its purpose.
And we too are all held accountable
As that is the way that it should be,
From the things we done and the words we said
As that will become part of our history.
We all are held accountable
For our endeavors that became our past
And should we not also be made to stand up and own
All our actions and deeds that formed and shaped our life.
We must stand up and accept our past
As that is the way that it truly should be
So we can't run or even hide away
Like life, that is our destiny.
As one day we all will be held accountable
From the deeds and actions that we have done
So we must be prepared to accept them all
As like from death, from it we cannot run.
So watch the steps that you do take
And think closely on the path you do choose
As that will be the destiny you chose for yourself
And one day it will come back to visit you.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stone Cold
Outcast a time of war,
The mankind lost control
Of life and death, under survaillance
I watch the children pray,
While God just turns away
Our in the ruins they seek shelter
These streets were once my home,
But those golden days are gone,
Now Im fighting to survive
Stone cold, man or machine
Stone cold, the end of our dream
The word is on the street,
Its kill or to be killed
With no exception yourre on your own
We should have seen it all along,
The writings on the wall,
Tell me what have we become
Stone cold, man or machine
Stone cold, the end of our dream
Who do you belive in now,
When the prophecy came true the final deja vu
These streets were once my home,
But those golden days are gone,
Now Im fighting to survive
Stone cold, man or machine
Stone cold, the end of our dream
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden years (Lyrics)
Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel
Come get up my baby
Look at that sky, life's begun
Nights are warm and the days are young
Come get up my baby
There's my baby, lost that's all
Once I'm begging you save her little soul
Golden years, golden years whop whop
Come get up my baby
Last night they loved you, opening doors and pulling some strings, angel
Come get up my baby
In walked luck and you looked in time
Never look back, walk tall, act fine
Come get up my baby
I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years
Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years, gold
Golden years, golden years whop whop
Come get up my baby
Some of these days, and it won't be long
Gonna drive back down where you once belonged
In the back of a dream car twenty foot long
Don't cry my sweet, don't break my heart
Doing all right, but you gotta get smart
Wish upon, wish upon, day upon day, I believe oh lord
I believe all the way
Come get up my baby
Run for the shadows, run for the shadows, run for the shadows in these golden years
There's my baby, lost that's all
Once I'm begging you save her little soul
Golden years, golden years whop whop
Come get up my baby
Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel
Come get up my baby
Run for the shadows, run for the shadows
Run for the shadows in these golden years
I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years
Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years.
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man With The Golden Gun
The man
With the golden gun
Is waiting
Somewhere
Out there
For you
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
Demand
For the golden gun
It's high priced
Precise
And true
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in his case, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for you
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for yo-ou
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
The man with the go-o-olden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the go-o-lden
Gun in his case
The man who gave you the golden gun
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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