Related quotes
Deliverance In Harmony
When the money is depleted will they cease as enemies?
When they find themselves with cupboards bare,
Will they share this reality?
Or will their stupidity,
Continue as it is?
With divisions they have come to know.
And ignorance to feed.
With stomachs empty...
As they crawl on knees!
'Baritones and sopranos?
Your voices are weakening!
Tenors and altos...
Less vibrato!
I can hardly hear the bass.
Once again.
And folks...
Don't forget,
We are invited to sing...
For the upcoming Unity Festival.
So...
Look alive!
Again...'
When the money is depleted will they cease as enemies?
When they find themselves with cupboards bare,
Will they share this reality?
Or will their stupidity,
Continue as it is?
With divisions they have come to know.
And ignorance to feed.
With stomachs empty...
As they crawl on knees!
'Now 'that' is what I call,
Deliverance In Harmony! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It is certain, indeed, that the sacred writers were apt to make great allowances for people with empty stomachs, and though I am well aware that the present profane ones think this very reprehensible, I venture to agree with the sacred writers.
quote by James Payn

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The life time of sun set!
I look at the God particle,
I look at the solar planet,
I look at the ever flowing river,
I do not look at you,
The man on the street,
Struggle to survive.
I look at the girl,
I look at her breast,
I look at the boy,
I look at his wallet,
We do not look at you,
The hungry volcanic stomachs,
With empty spatial dreams,
Overflowing rivers in the eyes,
Thunderous rain in the mind,
The whole month of new moon,
The life time of sun set,
Arrival of Tsunami at your door step.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let's Make Sandwiches
Lately, I've been hungry,
Starving to have my fill,
So let's make sandwiches.
All upset and angry,
Empty stomachs seem ill,
So let's make sandwiches.
If our tastes would agree,
I'd be ready to grill,
So let's make sandwiches.
We could enjoy our food,
The flavors we've pursued,
So let's make sandwiches.
poem by Tim Stensloff

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Wonder
Is it a phase that we all go through
Or does it affect just one or two?
That we see- yet we are blind
That we hear- yet we do not listen
That we touch-yet we do not feel
Hmmm- I wonder
That we love- yet do not show that emotion
That we cry- yet not shed a tear
That we laugh-yet pain inside
Hmmm- I wonder
That we live- yet we are dying
That we fill our stomachs-yet empty inside
That we walk or run-yet stand still
Hmmm- I wonder
That our minds are open-yet it’s closed
That all of this makes sense to you
Hmmm- I wonder
poem by Louis Rams

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Cry By Meena Mustafa
A dusty road lies beyond my imagination
I stretch across the naked earth still
lingering in despair
From every corner I hear a cry,
A broken image before you lies
In the cruel hands of death
Is the streak to kill
People tormented
Broken houses
Empty stomachs
Burning desires...
There is neither a path nor a destination
'cause it's the end of the journey
and strange enough no one knows
when dust suddenly covers you...
poem by Meena Mustafa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Walking With The Lover...
walking with the Lover...
i see empty fields plowed,
come alive with crops abundant.
empty factory buildings filled
with the ghosts of hard working lives.
empty houses lit up,
and the sounds of families.
empty hands given cups and bowls,
empty hearts held close!
empty words given meaning,
empty promises fulfilled.
walking with the Lover...
touching the plenty of empty!
poem by Eric Cockrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poverty
Oh mother bosom, holding your child
Yours arms, like a nest of warm cuddles.
Cast shadows, the heaven cool shade
Your words, hungry, fed of sour milk and sore
Trapped, pouring into empty stomachs
Embrace humanity- poverty
That the hearts of people, leisure devours.
The rich fantasy of your child
That embraces childhood games of spice.
Where life dwells.
poem by Luca Menin

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empty Sky
I woke up this morning
I could barely breathe
Just an empty impression
In the bed there you used to be
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Blood on the streets
Blood flowin down
I hear the blood of my blood
Cryin from the ground
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
On the plains of jordan
I cut my bow from the wood
Of this tree of evil
Of this tree of good
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fallen, Empty, And Broken
fallen soldier
fallen sky
fallen angel
from on high
fallen heartache
fallen soul
fallen man
losing control
empty bed
empty arms
empty dreams
empty heart
empty wallet
empty hands
cant take nothin'
from an empty man
broken promises
broken vows
broken spirit
wont allow
broken fences
broken lives
broken tomorrows
broken nights
fallen, empty, and broken
every road is the same
bent, bruised, and shaken
still numb from the pain
now you dont answer
when i call out your name
fallen, empty, and broken
walking in the rain...
fallen, empty, and broken...
poem by Eric Cockrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sometimes When I Have Nothing To Say
sometimes when i have nothing to say
like the silence of the closed window
or the nights on the grass
or the twinkle of the stars... i feel so full
and when i get so full, i feel like
vomiting my existence,
i am nauseous to this hiding, sometimes
i want to say it all, and then i become so empty
and when empty i float, i feel like i am nothing but air,
and then i surrender again
to the walls.... talking and talking to the walls
and i do not really care about the rumors that they have ears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Kanshi Ram Housing Scheme Of U.P. Government, A Dawn Of Hope For The Underprivileged
Bearing the hope of a better tomorrow,
In their tearful eyes
Bearing the rage of unkind hunger
In their empty stomachs,
Bearing the pain of their loved ones' indifference,
In their restless hearts,
They are leading a miserable life,
A life without roof, A life without ground,
And still waiting for the dawn
Which will surely come,
And dispel the clouds of gloom,
They have lit the candles of hope
In their eyes,
And prepared themselves
To welcome the new dawn of sterling hope.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Beautiful Voice
A beautiful voice
Melodious and cheerful
Calling out to me
I reach out to it
But it slips away from me
Angering my soul
My heart is aching
My ears are burning away
My fingers tremble
Every time I try
To find that beautiful vioce
It is all in vain
The world seems empty
Without the beautiful vioce
Soothing my cold ears
I have made a vow
To keep that inside my
Chain of memories
Will that vow come true?
Can I wait forever for
That beautiful voice?
poem by Kartik Saraf

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empty Hands
He rode in town on a white horse
With nothing in his hands
He came to gather his people
And take them to their promised land
When he came he knew there would be bloodshed
But still no violence made his plans
He came to fight in a battle
With no guns or money
But with his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands
They said hey boy what you lookin'at
As they eyed his dreaded mane
He said my father has sent me
I've come back to reclaim
The children whose hearts
Were so whole and pure
Now it's you who'll die in pain
So they lynched the man
Who fooled the word
And all the children gathered
In his empty hands
In his empty hands
The children ..... empty hands
In his empty hands
With his empty hands
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Let Love Rule

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Empty time, empty place. Empty heart, empty space.
Empty time, empty place.
Empty heart, empty space.
Give a little, fight a war
Take a lot, there is more.
Left to die, all alone.
Blackened sins to atone.
In a place by a stream,
in a dark, empty dream.
In a room candles glow.
Truth prevails if you know.
Something sweet and something blue.
Something with a natural hue.
Lucky I Am
Some of us don’t know how well we have it
In this land of ours of good and plenty
While many say and think that their life is unfit
While their souls and stomachs are never empty.
I once cried out for a new pair of shoes
Until I saw a man who had no feet
Then I heard a child cry for food that she refused
Then I saw another child that had nothing to eat.
I once saw a man whom had everything
Then I saw a another man who had nothing at all
Then that homeless man to GOD he did sing
While the man with everything was afraid to fall.
I once knew of a woman who pitied her life
Screaming out that no one had it as worse as her
Then I read of a woman whom died from her own knife
But of her own problems to no one did she say a word.
I never had any holes in any of my pockets
Then once I saw a man carrying change in a can
Then I thought about mans own work dockets
I then realized, how lucky that I truly am.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!