Organ Poems - Poems about Organ

He weeps, assigned to mourn for others who Had none to mourn them, none to say goodbye, Those whose harm medicine can’t undo, Whose bodies he takes apart each passing night. He scrubs, a cleansing ritual, to keep Away the...Read the rest...

my body is too aged to be of much use now but when I was young I signed to be an organ donor I was healthy then, no arthritis, great eyesight one organ donor can save up to...Read the rest...

It was a movement 70 million strong So the CCP decided to annihilate Falun Gong You wouldn’t think the movement was much of a threat It was non-political, but its doom was set. Normally a good thing – new...Read the rest...

Got myself a donor card. One day I will depart. Donating all my organs but you can keep my heart....Read the rest...

The last organ grinder played a blinder Intending to leave folk a reminder To music upbeat All those in the street Did a conga to “Eye of the Tiger.” It was the close of a splendid career The organ grinder...Read the rest...

You can always hear the jangling sound, Of the organ grinder as he makes his way around. He's out there in the rain or sun, And everyone looks and seems to have fun. He is a funny looking man...Read the rest...

Echoes of despair swirled in my head as I inhaled the crisp autumn air My relationship was hanging by a thread I knew the breakup was near As i walked through the streets that afternoon ...Read the rest...

Tripe, sweetbreads, entrails, offal, some people spell them awful. Scottish chefs can do them right Haggis, a meal, out of sight. Making a proper meatball sandwich is virtual what-not-who and which needing perhaps some extra spice supply it with a bit...Read the rest...

Between paper-soft worlds of fragile imaginations, I float upon those gossamer tulips that split every second of saccharine musings and eclipsed confessions, distinguishing all photoelectric synonyms of lachrymose stimuli towards glassy manipulations of blood-fragranced sun. Everything that is sown...Read the rest...

In a quiet street, his music would play, The last organ grinder, day after day. Under the moon's soft and silvery gleam, He lived his life like a fading dream. No crowd gathered...Read the rest...

Bright tune rings on the streets below Lovers sing and old feelings glow On the corner stands an old man Playing an old barrel organ Old hearts exult in deep delight With the gleam of...Read the rest...

Mine dad in the 1940’s was an organ grinder huh!, in the high seas in the Navy. In the 1940’s Lo, the clanging, bopping, banging of prepare containers foods. Large coppers pans and pots....Read the rest...

He can turn the crank, to tunes of happy song, One that his crowd has cherished for long, But something has so terribly gone wrong For someone has declared: you don’t belong, O, you don’t belong; no, you do...Read the rest...

He walks through murky puddles cobble stone City full of busy sounds and movements Time advancing enhancing improvements. Passer-byers in the youthful sunny' hours ...Read the rest...

The Last Organ Grinder ...Read the rest...