Tombstone
The night is dark, the moon is full
Across the blood red plain
Every step and every breath
Brings me nearer home
The spirits watch me on my way
They whisper on the wind
And when the dawn lights up the sky
I'll see my land again
A hot wind blows the scrub and dust
across the barren land
Trees stand bare like skeletons
The mountains all torn down
The water holes are dry as bones
No birds are singing now
And faraway a city stands
Tombstones against the sky
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Tombestone
The night is dark, the moon is full
Across the blood red plain
Every step and every breath
Brings me nearer home
The spirits watch me on my way
They whisper on the wind
And when the dawn lights up the sky
Ill see my land again
A hot wind blows the scrub and dust
Across the barren land
Trees stand bare like skeletons
The mountains all torn down
The water holes are dry as bones
No birds are singing now
And faraway a city stands
Tombstones against the sky
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Seed of a Dandelion
My life is like a seed of a dandelion
It flies wherever the wind blows
Looking for the salvation
The land where I can land on
I will follow wherever the wind blows
I will fly if there are tomorrows
I will land to my bed of nest
The place where I go to rest
But if the wind drops me in the river
The river of pains and tears
I will force myself along the current
To find a land in the orient
If the wind will blow me again
The wind will blow me to the end
If I will go and die in this ride
I hope all the pain will subside
If the wind will dropp me in the land
The humus land where I can stand
I will go to sleep in peace
And will wait for morning kisses
_ Dustin S. Catingub
poem by Dustin Catingub
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gulls
When the mist drives past and the wind blows high,
And the harbour lights are dim--
See where they circle, and dip and fly,
The grey free-lances of wind and sky,
To the water's distant rim!
Like spirits possessed of a fierce delight,
A courage that cannot fail,
They face the breakers--they face the night--
The mad storm-horses are silvery white,
They ride through the bitter gale!
They seem like the souls of the long, long lost,
Who breasted the ocean-main--
Vikings whose vessels were tempest-tossed,
Voyagers who sailed, whatever the cost,
And never came home again.
Or stranger and wilder fancy--it seems
As I hear their wind-torn cry,
No birds fly there through the sun's last gleams,
But the wraiths of hopes--the ghosts of dreams
That the old sea-gods saw die.
When the mist drives past and the wind blows high,
And the harbour lights are dim--
See where they circle, and dip and fly,
The grey free-lances of wind and sky,
To the far horizon's rim.
poem by Virna Sheard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer's Wind
Be weary, Lord of the summer wind,
Lord of the heat that you blow in,
Away with flowers, land and trees,
To stay them not, least all the trees.
Listen to this, all that I say,
Our land does die, and drift away.
Our living born upon the wind,
All of ours, and those of friends.
So we called upon the leave-filled wind,
The autumn one, of which were friends.
This wind of cool and gentle hand,
Not like the wind that stole our land.
And the heat did melt into the leaves,
And turned them colors from the trees.
Then the leave-filled wind bore them away,
And upon the land, they came to stay.
And stayed them there, till land-hard cold,
And then the land, the leaves they stole.
And after the harsh cold wind had blown,
And living soil again was sown,
Summer's wind came again to prey,
Upon our lands, most every day.
But our living land, the leaves did save,
And the summer's wind did blow away,
Never to re-live, the seasons day.
The cool soft wind now blows so free,
Upon the land, and through the trees.
All through the people, and over me.
poem by Sandra Osborne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Wind Blows
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
In a part of this once-great city
Stands a child crying out in pity.
Gone is hope in the heart of each hungry hour.
Every year in this land of plenty
There are millions of starving children
What will i say if they look my way?
This is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Bow your heads to the lost generation
Scars so deep, bringing god's damnation.
Businessmen sip wine while congress argue.
But for grace we enjoy our pleasures
What we face will be our salvation
Go build your towns, but remember time will not forget
That this is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Think of what the wise men said.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pet Sematary
Under the arc of a weather stain boards
Ancient goblins, and warlords
Come out of the ground, not making a sound.
The smell of death is all around,
And the night when the cold wind blows,
No one cares, nobody knows
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary!
I don't want to live my life again!
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary!
I don't want to live my life again!
Follow Victor to the sacred place,
This ain't a dream, I can't escape.
Molars and fangs, the clicking of bones,
Spirits moaning among the tombstones
And the night, when the moon is bright,
Someone cries, something ain't right.
CHORUS
The moon is full, the air is still,
All of a sudden I feel a chill,
Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away,
Skeletons dance, I curse this day
And the night when the wolves cry out,
Listen close and you can hear me shout.
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary!
I don't want to live my life again!
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary!
I don't want to live my life again, oh no, oh no!
I don't want to live my life again, oh no, oh oh!
I don't want to live my life again, oh no no no!
I don't want to live my life again, oh oh!!!!
song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pet Cemetery
Under the arc of a weather stain boards,
Ancient goblins, and warlords,
Come out of the ground, not making a sound,
The smell of death is all around,
And the night when the cold wind blows, No one cares, nobody knows.
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again.
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again.
Follow Victor to the sacred place,
This ain't a dream, I can't escape,
Molars and fangs, the clicking of bones,
Spirits moaning among the tombstones,
And the night, when the moon is bright,
Someone cries, something ain't right.
CHORUS
The moon is full, the air is still,
All of a sudden I feel a chill,
Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away,
Skeletons dancee, I curse this day,
And the night when the wolves cry out,
Listen close and you can hear me shout.
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again.
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again, oh no, oh no
I don't want to live my life again, oh no, oh oh,
I don't want to live my life again, oh no no no
I don't want to live my life again, oh oh
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Killing Fountains
I see rockets in the desert sky
I see flesh and blood and I dont know why
Ive seen fathers and Ive seen them die
Ive seen mothers and their daughters cry
Surprised soldiers with holes in their heads
Smiling presidents sweating in their beds
Dreaming of the land where the black gold flows
Where the sun always shines
And the desert wind blows
Its always one step forward and two steps back
They stumble and fall and break their necks
In the land of the killing fountains
Once it was gods land in the middle-ages
Now blue helmets try to stop the rage
While rocket launchers burn the sand
Thats what you call the promised land
Its always one step forward and two steps back
They stumble and fall and break their necks
In the land of the killing fountains
You can kill bodies but you cant kill religion
This is the truth and peace is the fiction
In the land of the killing fountains
And millions die with a silent smile
Seven days a week and the years pass by
In the land of the killing fountains
Where the black gold flows
Where the desert wind blows
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Australian Scenery
The Mountains
A land of sombre, silent hills, where mountain cattle go
By twisted tracks, on sidelings deep, where giant gum trees grow
And the wind replies, in the river oaks, to the song of the stream below.
A land where the hills keep watch and ward, silent and wide awake
As those who sit by a dead campfire, and wait for the dawn to break,
Or those who watched by the Holy Cross for the dead Redeemer's sake.
A land where silence lies so deep that sound itself is dead
And a gaunt grey bird, like a homeless soul, drifts, noiseless, overhead
And the world's great story is left untold, and the message is left unsaid.
The Plains
A land as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow
Or the plains are blackened and burnt and bare, where the false mirages go
Like shifting symbols of hope deferred -- land where you never know.
Land of plenty or land of want, where the grey Companions dance,
Feast or famine, or hope or fear, and in all things land of chance,
Where Nature pampers or Nature slays, in her ruthless, red, romance.
And we catch a sound of a fairy's song, as the wind goes whipping by,
Or a scent like incense drifts along from the herbage ripe and dry
-- Or the dust storms dance on their ballroom floor, where the bones of the cattle lie.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Wind From... Elsewhere
The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!
poem by Elga Haymon White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Skeleton Dance
The moon is on the graveyard,
The night is cool and still,
The wind blows gently,
Yes it blows where it will,
And the slightest sound,
From a place that's unknown,
Come do the skeleton dance,
And rattle my bones.
Do the skeleton dance
Jingle jangle bones,
Do the skeleton dance
All the way back home,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're all alone,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're done with your bones.
See the eyes of a werewolf,
Staring back at you,
A dozen or two skeletons,
Make up the rest of the crew,
The zombies stumble around,
Looking for their brains,
Ghost float like a mist,
And its about to rain.
Do the skeleton dance
Jingle jangle bones,
Do the skeleton dance
All the way back home,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're all alone,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're done with your bones.
The devil takes off his skin,
And plays the xylophone,
God plays the piano,
On a stool made of bone,
Jesus lights a lantern,
Buddha counts to three,
They all form a circle,
To do the skeleton dance with me.
poem by Blaine McCanless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tribal Rites (The Nighshade of Hues)
The nightshades of hue
Blacken the empty abyss
As the moon hangs low
With an eerie neon glow
A shadow moves across the
Barren land as the stars
Glisten in the dark
Thunder claps its roar energy
As the dark clouds creep across the moon
A lone owl hoots its eerie song
As it watches' the moon play hide and seek
With natures dark clouds of doom
The night is dark as the mist
Swirls around the abyss
That gapes at the edge of the cliff
The crackle of thunder crash's
Across the land booming from
One end of the abyss to other
And standing atop a hill
That views over the abyss
A lone figure stands
The wind whips at his clothing
Like a torrent of never ending lashings
His long shoulder length ebony hair
Swirling in the wind
He gazes towards the heavens
And sees the stars and moon
Beckoning to him to fly
But this earth bound body
Can only stand in this glories
Raging storm of the night
He sways to the rhythm of nature
As he recalls his brothers of the tribe
Teasing him of what's install for him
To gain his manhood his rights as a man
To live through this dark abyss
That has tested his father and his father before him
And it is now his turn to prove to the tribe he is a man
So as he stands alone
He embraces himself for natures test
The swirling winds and raging storms
A testament to his strength
As the dawn starts to break
He walks back to his tribe
Were he left a few days before
Just a boy now he returns a man
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Manali - the Land of Gods
I always wondered why this place,
was called the land of Gods.
With harsh cold and mountain folds,
With loneliness and uneven moulds,
Without comforts and anything mod,
I didnýt know why it was called the Gods.
When I got the opportunity,
I decided to see,
Whether what I had heard was truth or hearsay.
Although I find it difficult to climb,
I agreed to join this treacherous mime.
When I arrived at the camp site,
I was dumbstruck and beholden with the sight,
Which stood before my very eyes.
Snow covered mountains, gushing streams, and the beautiful sunrise. And as I saw the various moods,
Of nature and it's various goods,
I slowly started to understand,
Why it is called the Land of God,
Despite the lack of anything mod.
Because the grass here is green,
And not the brown with which the cities teem.
Because the water here is pure,
And does not require a testing gear.
Because the birds here are free,
And not caged-in, as we see.
This land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Because the mountains here reach up to heaven,
And are not like the Sahyadris all paven.
Because the wind here spreads fragrance,
Not dust, smoke, and other jargon.
Because the flowers here naturally bloom,
And are not forced to grow in pots to face their doom.
That's why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Because the lakes here are blue,
And do not stink with the city stew.
Because the people here are simple,
And do not show off false smiles and dimples.
Because everything here is pure and natural,
This land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Because the sun sets over a spectacular horizon,
And does not have to hide behind concrete prisons.
Because the jungles here are full of trees,
Where all components of nature mingle free.
Because at night we can see the stars,
which are not blocked out by the city lights spread afar.
That's why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Seeing the Jogini waterfall,
And the Lammergeyer rock tall,
Listening about the Bhrugu Lake,
And the pleasure the effort gives and takes,
I came to know why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
And as I go on thinking,
In the spare moments lurking,
Where silently beside the stream,
Or by the tent rim,
I realize the reason,
Why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
And now the time has come for me,
To go back to my own city.
I yearn for this paradise,
Away from the city life.
Because this nature and me,
Share a similar spree,
For life and all it's blooms,
Adjusting to its glooms,
Now I see, why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon Glow
The darkest night, flows with a
wind hush through open blackness.
Ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Rivulets spill with water
across the mountain plains;
as liquid rolls down along the steep slope-
ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Stars glitter through sparkles
of the darkest night.
Wind cold breeze swifts;
swiftly into space.
Laughter engulfs the moon light.
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Moon light angles corners,
as sweet melodies swell into air,
of silence.
You ever sight the bird dance,
as shadow flicker
upon the moon?
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
poem by Celine Berghmans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Writing to the Wind
I'm writing to the wind
The words drift from my mouth
They dance and mix about
Then lose what they're about
I'm writing to the wind
To say I stand alone
To let the people know
I came and then went home
I'm writing to the wind
Because no one seems to know
We're nearly almost at the door
Where no one want to go
And if the wind says no
I think I'll understand
The wind just comes and goes
And seldom makes a stand
The wind can pass me buy
Or stay awhile to linger
The wind can never die
Or rise to point it's finger
The wind goes on and on
Around the world forever
Unless it comes to find
It's a sad and poor endeavor
For after we are gone
The wind will just be flying
'Ore empty barren plain
We made as we lay dieing
poem by S. Michael Downs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Autumn Months Splendor
The Autumn Months Melody
The hot summer days are gone and rolled by
The cool autumn months have once again arrived
The autumn majestic spirit permeates the land
It is another new day of autumn
The far sun above the horizon sends its rays and gentle warmth
on the valleys, mountains and hamlets
Nature has dressed in beautiful colors
The jolly trees are painted with red, yellow and brown
The autumn trees adorn the valleys and mountains that hug the skies
It is a portrait of panoramic dazzle
The brisk wind blows over the meadows
The cool wind sweeps the plains and fields
The tall trees dance and bow gently in grace
The tree branches hiss, swing and sway
The shivering leaves quiver with the wind
The green pastures are dotted with a mosaic
of dried brownish scattered leaves
Joining autumn happy symphony
The singing joyous birds, the playful beavers
The swimming silver fish in the water streams
All bring a solemn joy
The sun slowly climbs the immense skies
The autumn patchy clouds cast their shadows on the peaceful land
All painting an awesome picture of beauty, love and harmony
How beautiful are the melodies and splendor of the autumn months!
poem by Sherif Monem
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old Colonist's Reverie
Dustily over the highway pipes the loud nor'-wester at morn,
Wind and the rising sun, and waving tussock and corn;
It brings to me days gone by when first in my ears it rang,
The wind is the voice of my home, and I think of the songs it sang
When, fresh from the desk and ledger, I crossed the long leagues of sea
'The old worn world is gone and the new bright world is free.'
The wide, wild pastures of old are fading and passing away,
All over the plain are the homes of the men who have come to stay
I sigh for the good old days in the station whare again;
But the good new days are better
I would not be heard to complain;
It is only the wind that cries with tears in its voice to me
Of the dead men low in the mould who came with me over the sea.
Some of them down in the city under the marble are laid,
Some on the bare hillside in the mound by the lone tree shade,
And some in the forest deeps of the west in their silence lie,
With the dark pine curtain above shutting out the blue of the sky.
And many have passed from my sight, whither I never shall know,
Swept away in the rushing river or caught in the mountain snow;
All the old hands are gone who came with me over the sea,
But the land that we made our own is the same bright land to me.
There are dreams in the gold of the kowhai, and when ratas are breaking in bloom
I can hear the rich murmur of voices in the deeps of the fern-shadowed gloom.
Old memory may bring me her treasures from the land of the blossoms of May,
But to me the hill daisies are dearer and the gorse on the river bed grey;
While the mists on the high hilltops curling, the dawn-haunted
haze of the sea,
To my fancy are bridal veils lifting from the face of the land of the free.
The speargrass and cabbage trees yonder, the honey-belled flax in its bloom,
The dark of the bush on the sidings, the snow-crested mountains that loom
Golden and grey in the sunlight, far up in the cloud-fringed blue,
Are the threads with old memory weaving and the line of my life
running through;
And the wind of the morning calling has ever a song for me
Of hope for the land of the dawning in the golden years to be.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is Where I Belong
I hear the wind across the plain
A sound so strong - that calls my name
It's wild like the river - it's warm like the sun
Ya it's here - this is where I belong
Under the starry skies - where eagles have flown
This place is paradise - it's the place I call home
The moon on the mountains
The whisper through the trees
The waves on the water
Let nothing come between this and me
Cuz everything I want - is everything that's here
And when when we're all together - there's nothing to fear
And wherever I wander - the one thing I've learned
It's to here - I will always....always return
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Promised Land
I stand on this bare rock
The land of milk and honey
Solid and soft
Gaia at my feet
Lost and wandering
In silence of night
Full moon bright
I am from the dust of stars
And a child of the dirt
A desert breeze
Whispers the prophets' lies
Carrying the warriors cries
As they lay dying
Their banners fallen
West is the Promised Land
But in the east Venus is rising
From the mountain
A new dawn dawning.