Tomb 19
Tomb 19 was sacred 1000 years or more
The Mayan king was restless a curse upon the door
His shrouds of royal fabric his journey to be made
To offer spirits good and evil 14 beads of sale
The jade had ancient power or so beliefs allege
To anyone who plundered they would drive him to the edge
If you take the treasures of Tomb 19
Let the curse remind you
Take the treasures of Tomb 19
But never look behind you
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Open Door
O Mystery of life,
That, after all our strife,
Defeats, mistakes,
Just as, at last, we see
The road to victory,
The tired heart breaks.
Just as the long years give
Knowledge of how to live,
Life's end draws near;
As if, that gift being ours,
God needed our new powers
In worlds elsewhere.
There, if the soul whose wings
Were won in suffering, springs
To life anew,
Justice would have some room
For hope beyond the tomb,
And mercy, too.
And since, without this dream
No light, no faintest gleam
Answers our 'why';
But earth and all its race
Must pass and leave no trace
On that blind sky;
Shall reason close that door
On all we struggled for,
Seal the soul's doom;
Make of this universe
One wild answering curse,
One lampless tomb?
Mine be the dream, the creed
That leaves for God, indeed,
For God, and man,
One open door whereby
To prove His world no lie
And crown His plan.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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Man Of 1,000 Faces
I walk the streets by day, I never know quite what to say
It doesnt matter anyway
Man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
For years Ive lived inside my dreams
Somehow Ive made them real, it seems
I made my own rules, because I am a
Man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
I can put on any face, you all know me, but its no disgrace
The king of night, he understands
Man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
Whos the man of a 1000 faces, whos the man of a 1000 faces
Whos the man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
Im the man, Im the man, Im the man, Im the man
Im the man of a 1000 faces, Im the man of a 1000 faces
Im the man of a 1000 faces, Im the man
Im the man, Im the man, Im the man, Im the man (to fade)
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mockery
I met my love a-weeping,
Weeping in the night-tide pale;
Her head among the lily bloom,
Weeping by an empty tomb—
An unshut tomb.
I gently stroked her golden hair
That shone so
With the moon-glow
In the sad-sweet air.
Like playful breezes from the south
Came soft smile-dimples to her mouth;
And when again she seemed to weep
I kissed her wild-wide eyes to sleep;
While there beyond the lily bloom
I saw the watching, waiting tomb.
I left my love a-sleeping,
Sleeping in the cypress vale;
Smiling sadly in the gloom;
Sleeping in the fastened tomb—
The tight-shut tomb.
How round the tomb the moving mists
Will twirl so
When the wind blows,
That the ivy twists
And shudders round the cold grey stone:
A serpent on a crumbling throne.
While I, upon a nearby mound
Hear salt tears soaking in the ground;
But there, when’er the lilies bloom,
I hear low laughter in the tomb.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Shall I use sword to solve Gordian Knot
when I opened my eyes to the world,
Not only my mouth opened to
breast of my mother,
Much before that my ears were open,
And skin that sensed touch of men or woman,
Known or unknown,
Expressing that by laugh or weep,
Then slowly opened eyes to see that world,
And light entered in eyes earlier,
Now reached brain!
Then started the questions and mystery Train,
And I became as what my elders trained!
But some years later I learnt life is from womb to tomb,
That made me to sit on tomb, into which I
saw someone sleeping,
As bone and skeleton,
With that hollow skull,
Then I learnt where one day I have to Go!
I disliked to sleep there with that hollow skull
I reached there without hollow skull,
But with brainful of painful thoughts!
If tomb is my destination,
Why came from womb,
If I can't assimilate, why should I eat,
If I can't solve the puzzle, why should bother it,
If everything is fate, how best life that I can rate?
I came to home straight and
Slept in a wooden box to feel my tomb with soulful brain!
I started learning to
Go where I should go,
Go and sleep in that wooden tomb and slept well there
and became familiar with that!
Then came my mother where I
am,
When she learnt that I am in my
own tomb,
Called father to show where I
am, Both lifted me
And laughed, Kissed me and said,
'You naughty, hiding there? '
Someday I have to throw this old used scrap in the waste box called my tomb,
If life Gordian knot,
Shall I use that sword to cut the rope,
The sword of self knowledge,
which is ultimate and impatient action,
I need not go and win the world,
Only I want win myself,
Self that in me have that thrill
And the joy of solving puzzle,
Within fairness of the game?
It kills the spirit in me,
And the spirit of puzzle
If I cut the rope,
And that game is over to me!
Let me play a while,
my mother is always ready,
She takes my into her lap
I will sleep in that love that is divine,
Than sleeping here in this tomb,
Once I throw that baggage aside
That was useful always in this journey,
All fate goes to that bag and not it can come unto me,
I am that son of God,
And God has to guide me as he is always my elder,
And He is my Fate, and I am destined to play and sleep with him!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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1000 Years
If only we talked it out a little more
You might never have gone away
If only I tried
Instead of making for the door
Youd be loving me still today
And if Id only been a little wiser
You knew I knew the lies you told
But you thought I didnt care
And if Id only shown my love
In so many different ways
If only youd stayed
And in 1000 years
Ill still be thinking of you
Though in 1000 years
My love will have gone
But in a 1000 years
Well probably be together
But right now youre gone
If only I had you back again right now
Wouldnt ask for a thing, I know
Except to say Im sorry, and how
And the wisdom to let it show
And if Id only looked a little deeper
Each time I saw you weeping
And how I wished I held you close
Cause if I only shown my love
In so many different ways
Baby youd want to stay
And in 1000 years
Ill still be thinking of you
Though in 1000 years
My love will have gone
But in a 1000 years
Well probably be together
But right now youre gone
And in 1000 years
(Ill still be thinking of you)
1000 years
(my love will be long gone)
1000 years
(well probably be together forever)
1000 years
(Ill still be thinking of you)
1000 years
(whaaa whooo)
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Very Patient
Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.
Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.
Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!
We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I found in one of the tombs an inscription saying, 'If you touch my tomb, you will be eaten by a crocodile and hippopotamus.' It doesn't mean the hippo will eat you, it means the person really wanted his tomb to be protected.
quote by Zahi Hawass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Breathe Poetry
i confess, i am the master
and i am asleep for years and years
because the curse is there hiding my name
in the tomb of fear and shame
i am the master who has not used the power
of words for years and years because
my tears were frozen
inside my eyes and i have not tasted salt
inside the niche that was built for me
now you come into my life like the winds
of the spring bringing me the flowers
and the rain and the sound of the river
and the songs of the little birds
the hush of your sorrow has given me rebirth
from the deep sleep.
i am the master, and i wake up with words
buried inside my lips. Now i breathe poetry
inside your nostrils, and you too become alive.
come hold my hand, and our shadows fuse as one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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THE TOMB OF THE SAINTS... [A Visit To The Catacombs]
Visited the Tomb of the Saints last week
At the catacombs, beneath blackened soil
Cracked cobblestone, its entry path
Outer walls wrapped, in pea-green moss
Ancient must grabs you by the throat
Coats your lungs like the Takla Makan
Yet, two-thousand years of ashened mire
Ne're waver curious minds, from visiting
Canonized souls, within hallowed walls
It's cellared cold dampness, chilling your marrow
And, the warmest days, cool your blood, and brow
Centuries of Godliness, imbedded, like stonehenge
Walk deep inside its sacred womb...explore
Touch the countless stoneheads one by one
Each crypt a storied tale beyond its epitaph
Tales of martyrdom, aberration....miracles confirmed
Read, the etched carvings 'tween aged crosslines
Remind yourself as to who they were
Before they stood before you here, in silent sainthood
The structure itself, wears a badge of discord
Hieroglyphics still vaguely legible....
Saw the disfigured Cross of James The Lesser
So curved, it mirrored the twist of St. Bridget's
Time's touch is acrid, and boldly un-Christian
The chilled ambiance...eerily captive
Makes Grant's Tomb, seem like Strawberry Fields
Candles at night, only shadow this maze
Of the sacred remains, in thie caverned walls
Walking back on the cobblestone path, i muse
How faith, and sacrifice, still strike the heart
And my God....how my lungs ached for days
From the lingered must and moss that festered
As if Heaven made it clear, i would not soon forget
My visit, and experience in the catacombs
And i'm going back to the Tomb of the Saints
And revel in its holy echo, once again
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Kingdom of the dead souls
I couldn't be a Crown Prince in my whole life
And here in the isolated graveyard
I am the King of the benighted Kingdom
As I am the only tomb-grave stands among the paupers.
The poor grave-digger used to drink beside my tomb, I too intoxicate
And sometimes we talk about lot of things.
The poor rest graves very quiet as hermits even after their deaths.
(And I hear the melody, miraculous pan flute of Georghe Zamfir's in a distant.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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For Every Storm
For every storm there is a room
And find the palace now,
From deserts are a tomb and gloom,
Where clothes must just allow.
The clothing kisses us on cheek,
When effort made us worse,
The cloth we wear is rather chic,
And worry is a curse.
The storm shall grow at all the speed
That problems make us mad,
You did not follow, or then bleed
As madness is your dad.
poem by Naveed Akram
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neath A Cold Gray Tomb Of Stone
Passing by a lonesome graveyard
Everything I love is gone
Weeping as they lay my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
In this world i'm left to wander
With no one to call my own
While my precious darling's sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Out there in that lonesome graveyard
She is sleeping all alone
And I burried my heart with her
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Skies above are dark and stormy
All the sunshine,all is gone
For the while my love is sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
My heart is dead and yet i'm living
Traveling through this world alone
I wish that I was with my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brute To Blame
A beast of the East is a brute so blind,
It wanders from the lands so perfect.
It is a dumb creature so burdened with youth,
A reptile in the park, the one to blame.
Around a clump of trees the burdened mammal
Stings our sight and rubs the bush with its tail.
In the thicket we laugh as well,
This grove of blame is like a crypt of burden
Where I died in a funeral so bright and ancient.
The beast is out there with a tomb
So then my grave is a tomb for him.
poem by Naveed Akram
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King Midas In Reverse
The Hollies
King Midas In Reverse
(Allan Clarke/Tony Hicks/but mainly Graham Nash)
Single release 1967
If you could only see me
I know exactly where I am
You wouldn't want to be me
Oh, I can assure you of that
I'm not the guy to run with
'Cos I'll throw you off the line
I'll break you and destroy you
Given time.
He's King Midas with a curse
He's King Midas in reverse
He's King Midas with a curse
He's King Midas in reverse
It's plain to see it's hopeless
Going on the way we are
So even though I'd lose you
You'd be better off by far
He's not the man to hold your trust
Everything he touches turns to dust
In his hands
Nothing he can do is right
He'd even like to sleep at night
But he can't.
{Interlude with 'all he touches turns to dust' 4x}
I wish someone would find me
And help me gain control
Before I lose my reason
And my soul
He's King Midas with a curse
He's King Midas in reverse
He's King Midas with a curse (all he touches turns to dust)
He's King Midas in reverse (all he touches turns to dust)
{fade out}
He's King Midas with a curse (all he touches turns to dust)
He's King Midas in reverse (all he touches turns to dust)
He's King Midas with a curse....
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crazy Jane And The Bishop
Bring me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.
Coxcomb was the least he said:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Nor was he Bishop when his ban
Banished Jack the Journeyman,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor so much as parish priest,
Yet he, an old book in his fist,
Cried that we lived like beast and beast:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
The Bishop has a skin, God knows,
Wrinkled like the foot of a goose,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor can he hide in holy black
The heron's hunch upon his back,
But a birch-tree stood my Jack:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Jack had my virginity,
And bids me to the oak, for he
(all find safety in the tomb.)
Wanders out into the night
And there is shelter under it,
But should that other come, I spit:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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One with Darkness
When ever I go out I go out fighting
Screaming for chance to finally end up dying
I have to murder to fulfill my end of this deal
Death is imminent, but something that I’ll never feel.
This is my curse, this is my curse
Sign upon the bloody line I should’ve thought of first
This is my curse, this is my curse
This is my curse, this is my curse
Killing for a living this can’t get any worse
This is my curse, this is my curse
How can I ever love someone else
When murder is my life, and I can’t even love myself
Every night I wake up next to another dead whore
Someone please stop me I don’t want to murder anymore
poem by Justin Schock
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The Mountain Tomb
POUR wine and dance if manhood still have pride,
Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom;
The cataract smokes upon the mountain side,
Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet
That there be no foot silent in the room
Nor mouth from kissing, nor from wine unwet;
Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
In vain, in pain; the cataract still cries;
The everlasting taper lights the gloom;
All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes,
Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Black Tower
SAY that the men of the old black tower,
Though they but feed as the goatherd feeds,
Their money spent, their wine gone sour,
Lack nothing that a soldier needs,
That all are oath-bound men:
Those banners come not in.
There in the tomb stand the dead upright,
But winds come up from the shore:
They shake when the winds roar,
Old bones upon the mountain shake.
Those banners come to bribe or threaten,
Or whisper that a man's a fool
Who, when his own right king's forgotten,
Cares what king sets up his rule.
If he died long ago
Why do yopu dread us so?
There in the tomb drops the faint moonlight,
But wind comes up from the shore:
They shake when the winds roar,
Old bones upon the mountain shake.
The tower's old cook that must climb and clamber
Catching small birds in the dew of the morn
When we hale men lie stretched in slumber
Swears that he hears the king's great horn.
But he's a lying hound:
Stand we on guard oath-bound!
There in the tomb the dark grows blacker,
But wind comes up from the shore:
They shake when the winds roar,
Old bones upon the mountain shake.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Tomb-Stone Of Saiyyid
O you whose life is confined in the material world
O you whose soul is imprisoned in the cage
Look at the freedom of this garden's warblers
Look at the prosperity of those once desolate
This is the congregation with which I was concerned
This is the reward of patience and perseverance
My tomb-stone is ardently desirous of speech, look!
At this tomb-stone's inscription with insight look!
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Some Thoughts To Ponder: Iii
is darkness scary as one
keeps walking into it?
isn't the same darkness
scary when looked back?
*******
what's the use of a tomb stone
won't time take its toll even on it?
********
people leave this earth
each leaving behind
one's unique master piece
for the succeeding generations
to admire...why tomb-stones?
why statues in memory?
23sep2009
14.14
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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