In the village without dogs the farmers walk without sticks.
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Why We Fight pt 1 (Lock and Load)
You’ve walked out the garden and watched your hands go
From picking up berries to picking up ammo
The same sticks and twigs that build up your village
Fight off the conquers and plunders and pillage//
-Stones and sticks and sticks and stones
Gather them up to protect your home
And when needed use them on some bones
Lay them all down to outline your zone
Raise them and burn them on your throne
Monsters can’t outrun the sticks and stones-
Sharpen your spears to take down your dinner
You and the beast can’t both be the winner
It’s about time you got out of this slump
Load up your brains to outsmart the hunt
poem by P.R. Prosper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bonfire
stoke the fire!
sticks of prejudice
and hatred...
sticks of greed
and apathy.
sticks of profit
and loss....
sticks of capitalism,
and oil....
sticks of guns,
and patriotism.
sticks of sexual abuse
and addiction...
sticks of oppression,
and slavery....
stoke the fire!
build it up till
it's all gone....
maybe we'll find
...tomorrow..
in the ashes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dogs bark
Dogs bark and howl,
But they don't just do that,
Dogs chase sticks,
They catch twigs,
And they lick lots and lots,
Dogs bark and howl,
But they don't just do that! !
poem by Hannah Smith
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Walk A Dog
You carry with you
Sex, jealousy and prde
They are the caged dogs
Walk them as you walk dogs
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dogs (Homage)
Man’s best friend?
Why?
There is nothing quite as cute as a puppy
Dogs are more than pets, they’re companions
Dogs are fiercely loyal
Dogs protect life & property, even to their own demise
Dogs do not judge their masters
Dogs are grateful for any food fed them
Dogs can be trained to carry, guide, search, rescue and hunt
Dogs are great listeners
Dogs are ready to play anytime
Dogs are emotional sponges that absorb human misery
Dogs are wonderful match-makers and buffers
Dogs can chase away “The blues”
You can take a dog’s balls and he’ll still love you
Yes,
Dogs are 'Man’s best friend'
After all God is Dog spelled backwards...
poem by Ray Lucero
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One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Dogged by comparisons
Behind the gym on the non-stop route out of town
and the housing estate and the light industrial
awaiting a so-called ‘developer’
there’s this park – correction, Dogshit Central;
once, I guess, it was a ‘common’; now,
even ‘civic amenity area’ is too good for it;
at the far end, an occasional gardener clips a hedge,
prunes the few rose bushes once a year;
this end, it’s all railings and rough grass
and dogs.
Not dogs and people; dogs. At weekends,
dogs and people, yes; balls and sticks are thrown,
exercise taken, tails wagged;
humans are human once again..
weekdays, how convenient
to combine the dog-walkies with
the shopping; leave them there for an hour or so,
they’ll be safe, make their own entertainment..
so – no balls, no sticks, no masters – what do they do?
Today, there’s five of them in a merry pack,
tongues out, tails flying, bounding around half-turning,
eager for more joy, more joy,
using twice the energy they’d use for rabbit-stalking…
celebrating their dogness, and pure being, celebrating life itself…
Now gather their five owners in a posse…
a sorry bunch of humans,
uncomfortable in the company of their kind,
at best, living the wild life through their dogs,
at worst, not fit to own a dog…
don’t you wonder that dogs
don’t lose their sanity, their joy,
their faithfulness, their loyalty,
having to look after the spiritual welfare
of this two-legged and unnatural,
inferior and drearier
branch of evolution, the human race?
They who bury their hopes and fears
to dig them up again tomorrow,
to chew them over in regret and guilt...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Evening In Paradise
Evening in the village it is about nine o'clock nothing on TV except
men in nice suits and cuff links talking about the economy, they all
are experts yet disagree about everything banging hands on table,
getting red faced and angry, so I switched off. A motorbike is making
its unsteady progress through the village, Joao home from the bar,
dogs don't bark, know the sound it is only when he is trying to get
off and fall they bark a little, angry voices, and then utter stillness.
I stroll through the village only street every window is shuttered not
letting out light it is like they think they have to pay extra if it does.
I walk down to the main road and hope anything would come to pass
enveloped as I'm by tediousness. A car drives past I spend minutes,
wondering where it is going. Back home I switch the TV back on,
a drone attack an important terrorist has been killed, as have eleven
other mostly children, collateral damage, but we fight a global war.
I wished for and found my Paradise on earth and it is bloody boring.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Sonnet: A Village-life is Better
A city-life has gone to dogs these days,
With problems of water, shelter and food;
The cost of living has gone up always;
The ‘luxury’ cannot keep one’s health good!
A village-life is far better to all;
Tho’ time ticks slowly, health is at its peak;
Yet, love and courtesy is maintained tall;
A simple livelihood, most farmers eke.
But still, men throng the cities all the time,
To live a discontented, worthless life?
And neither are the mind and soul sublime;
Man struggles much to combat daily strife.
So, why can’t men be level-headed then,
And live ’midst Nature’s plants, beasts, birds like wren?
8-2-2002
poem by John Celes
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Stray dogs
Here and there and everywhere
Stray dogs doing business
And barkedup wrongtrees
And spoiled the working
Environments.
Stray dogs have no
Commonsense not true
Stray dogs encounter
The alien.
Stray dogs safeguard
The interest
And ensure to make
The area clean.
Stray dogs welcome
Common mass
Stray dogs do not like
Corrupt class.
Stray dogs can only think
The morrows
Stray dogs have practical
Experience and knowledge
You know I know all know.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Rascal
He prowls among the dogs
With fearless pride
Dogs attack him
He does not run, nor hide
The cockiness in his walk
As he troddens from step to step
The dogs chase him
With unrelentless effort
He reverses the attack
As we laugh with glee
The Rascals run
A cat chases dog
How can this be?
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Dog, Actually
Don't waste your time calling my name
I'm far too busy to play your game
I'm sniffing a dog's bum and it's doing the same
Cos I'm a dog: and that's what dogs do
I'm very excited when it's time for my walk
The peg where my lead hangs I watch like a hawk
I'd shout 'Take me walkies! ' if only I'd talk
Cos I'm a dog: and that's what dogs do
I run down the garden chasing after my ball
I leap on my hind legs so I look rather tall
When food's being offered I'll respond to your call
Cos I'm a dog: and that's what dogs do
I'm quite young and active and love to play
And when evening comes by the fire I'll lay
I'd like to sleep on a bed but in my basket I'll stay
Cos I'm a dog: and that's what dogs do
I'm a big labrador and my friends call me Billy
I'm soft and I'm gentle and just a bit silly
When I'm not eating biscuits I'm licking my... paws
Cos I'm a dog: and that's what dogs do
poem by Kevin Crinks
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The Crowing of the Roosters
Come to the village
and listen to the crowing roosters
up the branches of the trees
announcing the breaking
of a bright new day.
Come to the village
Walk the miles of the road
Have a pause from the roaring buses,
The dazzles on the streets
And the endless list of activities.
Come to the village
And learn from the roosters
Resting on the silent trees
Communing with nature
And speaking to man and woman
The great early morning of peace.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Farmers Daughter
Written by brian wilson.
I could come from miles away
Aint got (aint got, aint got)
No place to stay (place to stay, place to stay)
Glad to (glad to, glad to)
Help you plow your fields (help you plow, help you plow)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Might be (might be, might be)
Just a couple of days (couple of days, couple of days)
Clean up (clean up, clean up)
Rest and on my way (on my way, on my way)
Thank you (thank you, thank you)
And Im must obliged (much obliged, much obliged)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
So long (so long, so long)
Better leave your land (leave your land, leave your land)
Many thanks (many thanks, many thanks)
It was mighty grand (mighty grand, mighty grand)
I do (hope to, hope to)
Hope to see you again (see you again see you again)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't snap your fingers at the dogs before you are out of the village.
Global Village
Global village
Though we are all human
we are made to be different
by forces beyond our clout
Yet they want remake us
in a new image of their choice
in a village too big to be safe
The world they now call
a single village in the globe
with a big brother to match
As long as we are second class
within that large village fashioned
we would be subjected to
someone’s standards
someone’s culture
someone’s technology
someone’s understanding
someone’s world view
someone’s theories and concepts
They try hard in harder ways
to make us part of that village
but we know we are different
and shall strive to leave outside
that fashioned unsafe village
poem by Yusuf Adamu
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Sticks And Stones
Sticks and stones, might break my bones
And words, shall never harm me,
I was told that story, when I was a Boy
Along with the birds and bees, I believe
So I lived my life, through that advice
That was given to me in my youth,
That sticks and stones would break my bones
And words could do no harm was true.
So I stayed away from sticks and stones
And tried never calling anyone names
But the sticks still arrived, in my life
And also the words of hate and pain.
But then I had healed from broken bones
And bruises and all the nasty cuts,
It made me stronger, then I thought longer
About the words of hate and such.
Because the words of hate, I couldn't escape
As I noticed them around everyday
Destroying ones soul, until life they'd let go
Or asking GOD for vengeance as they'd pray.
Sticks and stones had broke my bones
And words of hate had really harmed me,
As I look around, I can still hear the sound
Of hate, and belittlement, and bigotry.
There are still broken bones and nasty cuts,
As I see as I enter every day with a walk,
But doctors heal then, as they are new again
But the words of hatred never balks.
In my life I have made many choices,
And I hope with one I don't stand alone
Never to ever use any word of hate
As I don't mind getting hit with sticks or stones.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Farmers Daughter
I could come from miles away
Aint got (aint got, aint got)
No place to stay (place to stay, place to stay)
Glad to (glad to, glad to)
Help you plow your fields (help you plow, help you plow)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Might be (might be, might be)
Just a couple of days (couple of days, couple of days)
Clean up (clean up, clean up)
Rest and on my way (on my way, on my way)
Thank you (thank you, thank you)
And Im must obliged (much obliged, much obliged)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
So long (so long, so long)
Better leave your land (leave your land, leave your land)
Many thanks (many thanks, many thanks)
It was mighty grand (mighty grand, mighty grand)
I do (hope to, hope to)
Hope to see you again (see you again see you again)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain, Like other farmers, flourish and complain.
quote by George Crabbe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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123
From the bowery to the brimstone
I tried to find your heart
With drugs of initiation
The bottom of a barrel that drops
I understand your causes
Sympathize the motivation
But all the details of this war
Are just self-infatuation
And its 1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go home
Manic blood runs thick my friend
Are you looking for a clean escape
Whats left when the locks have all been broken
Young children of authority
Now how long can you be agile
Dancing between the alter and the mercy seat
Yeah now heres a chance to make a choice
Are you aware of the fire beneath your feet
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go home
The basement lies within us
Our fear comes through the door
Now theres nothing left between us
As the fear becomes a roar
Once that wheel is in motion
Dont you lose what you have found
Im talking about that burning wheel of tongues
Everything that makes it go round and round
Were all born in the devils scorn
They want to see you die
Im asking you are you true
Everything they say is a lie
Its a lie
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
(were all born)
Nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
1 2 3
(were all born)
Nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
Everything they say its a lie
(were all born)
Its a lie now
(in the devils scorn)
Everything they say its a lie
Its a lie now
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
And go home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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