For every one with a plow ? there're seven with a spoon.
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Spoonful
By willie dickson
Could be spoonful of diamonds
Could be spoonful of gold
But I want a spoon ot your precious love
To satisfy my soul
Chorus
Men lies about it
Some are wild about it
Some dies without it
Everythings right about spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
Could be spoonful of coffee
Could be spoonful of tea
But I want a spoon of your precious love
Thats good enough for me
Chorus
Men lies about it
Some are wild about it
Some dies without it
Everythings right about spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
.
Could be a spoonful of water
Searching from the desert sand
But just a spoon of that fortifies
Saved you from another man
Chorus
Men lies about it
Some are wild about it
Some dies without it
Everythings right about spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gospel Plow
Mary wore three links of chain,
Every link was jesus name,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Mary, mark and luke and john,
All them prophets so good and gone,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Well I never been to heaven, but Ive been told,
Streets up there are lined with gold,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoonful
By willie dixon
Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.
Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everythings a-fightin about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?
Chorus
Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.
Chorus
Cats squirrel (traditional)
(instrumental)
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoonful
By willie dixon
Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.
Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everythings a-fightin about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?
Chorus
Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Plow
Outside my window the snow is white,
a winter mist I see so bright.
I hear through chrystals snow on snow,
a distant engine of a plow.
The chrystals falling from the sky,
in a way which I can’t tell you why
On the ground there is heavy snow
the plow is getting nearer now
The window sticks just like a stamp
against my fingers, cold and damp.
I see the sight of untouched snow,
I see the fountain of the plow.
The plow went by ten minutes ago
back is now a usable road
I hear through chrystals, snow on snow;
the distant engine of the plow
poem by Espen Øye Bjørkvold
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born Without A Silver Spoon
I was born without a silver spoon.
On a raining day in the month of june.
We lived in a face me and face you,
it was a crowded neighbourhood.
Born without a silver spoon.
To have a three square meal
is like wishing for the moon.
Many times we bed the night,
cold night without food.
Without a silver spoon.
My father struggled me through school.
Primary, secondary and university
education i made it through.
A silver spoon.
My wish which must come true.
For i dream of it everday.
Think about those moves i'll make.
Praying to God for steps to take.
Though i was born without
silver spoon.
Yet if heaven be true,
my family's pain will not be vain.
I was born without a silver spoon
shall be erased.
To my generations it shall be a tale.
And only a silver spoon shall remain.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Plowman's Song
Turn under, plow,
My trouble;
Turn under griefs
And stubble.
Turn mouse's nest,
Gnawing years;
Old roots up
For new love's tears.
Turn, plow, the clods
For new thunder.
Turn under, plow,
Turn under.
poem by Raymond Knister
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain On A Scarecrow
Scarecrow on a wooden cross Blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did My grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans
Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed
Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land
He said John it's just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol' hoss sure don't make it right
But if you want me to I'll say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandma's on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing "Take me to the Promised Land"
When you take away a man's dignity he can't work his fields and cows
There'll be blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin' Like that scarecrow in the rain
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plowmen
A plow, they say, to plow the snow.
They cannot mean to plant it, no --
Unless in bitterness to mock
At having cultivated rock.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain On The Scarecrow
Scarecrow on a wooden cross blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did my grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Chorus:
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me proud
And son Im just sorry theres no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer werent enough to pay the loans
Couldnt buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosed
Called my old friend schepman up to auction off the land
He said john its just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol hoss sure dont make it right
But if you want me to Ill say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandmas on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing take me to the promised land
When you take away a mans dignity he cant work his fields and cows
Therell be blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Well theres ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin like that scarecrow in the rain
Chorus:
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me proud
And son Im just sorry theyre just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me so proud
And son Im just sorry theyre just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Plow Of My Papa
today is the last day to sell the plow of my papa
it is a necessary part of his lifetime
in fact
his lifetime is the plow itself that made the lines
of his own poetry in the fields
of rice and corn
today another man shall have it
at the price we all wanted
we have sold all that he had
the land, the house, the trees he planted
when he was still alive
when he was still strong and cruel and so imposing
this is his only plow
and we have dedided to dispose it finally
to any man
we are now at the stage of reconstructing our lives
and the plow of papa must go
we shall have our own fields now of rice and corn
on a white canvass we draw
the new sun, its color shall be warm, something new really
to the feel of our skins
the darker ones shall be replaced by the flowing color
of the clouds like feathers of birds always ready to fly away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pick Up The Plow!
put down your sword,
pick up the plow!
a new day has come,
a new world before us!
in the beginning again,
we are the first hope.
pick up the plow,
till the earth...
our home and our hope!
a new day, a new way,
we work side by side..
beneath the sun, in the rain...
and we make love all night!
time is for the taker,
and now is the time...
put down your sword,
pick up the plow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It's life isn't it? You plow ahead and make a hit. And you plow on and someone passes you. Then someone passes them. Time levels.
quote by Katharine Hepburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoon feeding in the long run teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.
quote by E.M. Forster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoon feeding in the long run teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.
quote by E.M. Forster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peleg Poague
Horses and men are just alike.
There was my stallion, Billy Lee,
Black as a cat and trim as a deer,
With an eye of fire, keen to start,
And he could hit the fastest speed
Of any racer around Spoon River.
But just as you'd think he couldn't lose,
With his lead of fifty yards or more,
He'd rear himself and throw the rider,
And fall back over, tangled up,
Completely gone to pieces.
You see he was a perfect fraud:
He couldn't win, he couldn't work,
He was too light to haul or plow with,
And no one wanted colts from him.
And when I tried to drive him -- well,
He ran away and killed me.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Straw, Or Sky?
is a sparrow's nest
made of straw,
or made of sky?
do we come from the womb?
or return to it?
do we plow the earth?
or does it plow us?
where will we be at harvest?
do we spend all of our lives
trying to go back
to what we knew as a child?
are we then mouth,
nipple,
or the lonely phallus
of a forgotten god?
the empty hand,
or the sound of wings...
testify!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Parroting Courtesies
my niece asks me to hand a spoon
and i ask her to say 'please' and she utters the word
(perhaps her mama does not teach her the word)
and i hand her the spoon and she is afraid to say the word 'thank you'
and i tell her to say the word and she says it as though it is a strange word
for her (perhaps her dad, who is my brother seldom uses the word in their
house)
and then i tell her after she says thank you 'welcome my dear'
and she giggles, perhaps the words are ticklers to her frail body
to her small hands, to her fingers which grabbed the spoon as though
there are not so many
so many spoons in this world, we know that,
but the courtesies are forgotten, as this happens i feel like i am
parroting words, and sometimes i reflect: do i also really understand
these words, deep down to the longings of my heart?
thanks, but am i that really thankful to God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's a Soup Spoon
I see a spoon.
I have a bowl of icecream.
It's a soup spoon.
My icecream melts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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