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Taxes On The Farmer Feeds Us All
(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
(d) - (a) - (e)
(a) we worked through spring and winter, through (d) summer and through (a) fall
But the mortgage worked the hardest and the (e) steadiest of us all
It (a) worked on nights and sundays, it (d) worked each holiday
(e) settled down among us and it never went (a) away
The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down
The farmer is the man who feeds us all
If you only look and see I know you will agree
That the farmer is the man who feeds us all
(a) the farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He buys on his credit until (e) fall
Then they (a) take him by the hand
And they (d) lead him from his land
And the (e) merchant is the man who gets it (a) all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He lives on his credit until fall
With the interest rates so high
Its a wonder he dont die
But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
Well, the banker says hes broke and the merchant stops and smoke
But they forget that its the farmer that feeds them all
It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest
And theyd know that its the farmer that feeds them all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
Lives on his credit until fall
Well, his pants are wearing thin
His condition, its a sin
cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is no accident that I made Cartoon Town a simple little village - in many ways it mirrored my home town. And, yes, many of my puppet characters took on some of the more eccentric characteristics of people I knew there.
quote by William Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deflower
Let us
wither
in our
remote village
And listen my old florist,
Your fingers are rough
As Blacksmith's
And it's really painful.
We have no intention
to exhilarate in your town showcases.
Village flowers belong to villagers
And not to cruel hands?
[You give but little when you give of your possessions.It is when you give of your heart that you truly give.-Unknown]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The God’s role
The God feeds those who pray to Him.
The God feeds those who don’t pray to Him.
The God feeds those who ignore Him.
He terminates them all any time too.
19.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Little Village
(Van Morrison)
Little village baby, ain't large enough to be a town
From a little village baby, ain't large enough to be a town
Gotta get away from the city
It's gonna bring you down
Heard the voice of the silence, in the evening
In the long cool summer nights
Heard the voice of the silence, in the evening
In the long cool summer nights
Telling me not to worry
Everything's gonna be all right
There's only two kinds of truth
Baby let's get it straight from the start
There's only two kinds of truth
Let's get it straight from the start
It's all what you believe
Baby in your head and your heart
Heard the bells ringing
Voices singing soft and low
Heard the bells ringing
Voices are singing soft and low
Way up in the mountain, little village in the snow
Raining in the forest
Just enough to magnetise the leaves
Raining in the forest
Just enough to magnetise the leaves
We'll go walking baby with the moonlight shining down through the trees
Little village, way up on the mountainside
Little village baby, way up on the mountainside
Way across the ocean with you by my side
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chaitra purnima
Today
Chaitra purnima
Look sarhul
And it is summer
The time to
Worship mother nature.
Look summer here
The days of cold beverages
The days of squash buttermilk
Pakhalrice water handia and lassis
All available in the town.
What about village?
In this summer
Village is burning
No water no food
No work nothing.
The dusk the clash
All available in the village.
Chitra purnima
Today.
Today is the
Chitra purnima
Of Hindu calender
And it is summer.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Global Village
The Global Village Has been Pillaged by the seeds of greed planted deep beneath the religious belief in Gods name this thief feeds the need to be believed as it deceives the sheep that follow the leader that blinds and binds
behind the seen and we believe what we see on screen yet muffles the screams of our brothers and sisters that don't believe what we believe I can't believe it any more this monster we have created is the whore that take our trashed for pleasure and we always want more and more with out faith and filled with fear you can't even hear your own voice say things you don't believe due to fear of what I don't know and I don't care to know this greed that pillaged our Global village and causes war for my only creed is to plant the seeds of love to feed my brothers and sisters needs
poem by Paul Cutting
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Village Idiot
Did you see the lad, on the corner
He was standing drinking wine
Wears his overcoat in the summer
And short sleeves in the winter time
Takes his holidays, down at the bookies
Well he knows how to pick a horse
Village tramping round the countryside
He wears a smile, but he doesnt say much
Village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, simple mind
Village idiot, he does know something
But hes just not saying
Dont you know hes onto something
You can see it, you can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
As he goes strolling by
Oh village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, hes got a simple mind
Village idiot, must know something
But hes just not saying
Well you all know hes onto something
You can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - My Home Village
my home village
the virgin mary still stands
young as ever
my home village
old friends like me
away from home
my home village
old friends live in
new homes
inspired by
my home village-
the winter rain targets
a standing Buddha
-Issa,1816
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Better the head of a village than the tail of a town.
Village Green
Out in the country,
Far from all the soot and noise of the city,
Theres a village green.
Its been a long time
Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
Down by the village green.
twas there I met a girl called daisy
And kissed her by the old oak tree.
Although I loved my daisy, I saw fame,
And so I left the village green.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And now all the houses
Are rare antiquities.
American tourists flock to see the village green.
They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it,
Isnt it a pretty scene?
And daisys married tom the grocer boy,
And now he owns a grocery.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And I will return there,
And Ill and daisy,
And well sip tea, laugh,
And talk about the village green.
We will laugh and talk about the village green.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Journey
the journey is long
and inter-dimensional,
many who should
have walked it
have sold out,
forsaking
a radical
freshness
of mind,
you do not
walk
your
journey alone,
in an
interconnected world,
you need
never walk alone,
the hopes
aspirations
dreams
of many
flow with you
flow into you
feed you
sustain you
food of your though
feeds their hunger
feeds their love
feeds better beginnings
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Internet is becoming the town square for the global village of tomorrow.
quote by Bill Gates
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Story Of Ali Rıza And Ahmet
How strange is the story of
Ali Rıza and Ahmet
One lives in the village
The other in the city
And every morning
The one in the city goes to the village
And the one in the village to the city
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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The Church Bells
The Viennese authorities have melted down
the great bell in St. Stephen's to supply metal
for guns or muntions. Every poor village
has made a similar gift.—Lokal Anzeiger.
The great bell booms across the town,
Reverberant and slow,
And drifting from their houses down
The calm-eyed people go.
Their feet fall on the portal stones
Their fathers' fathers trod;
And still the bell, with reverent tones,
From cottage nooks and purple thrones
Is calling souls to God.
The chapel bells with ardor spake
Above the poplars tall,
And perfumed Sabbath seemed to wake.
Responsive to their call
From dappled vale and green hillside
And nestling village hives
The peasants came in simple pride
To hear how their Lord Jesus died
To sweeten all their lives.
They boom beyond the battered town;
The hills are belching smoke;
And valleys charred and ranges brown
Are quaking 'neath the stroke.
The iron roar to Heaven swells,
And domes and steeples nod;
Through cities vast and ferny dells
And village streets the clamant bells
Are calling souls to God!
poem by Edward George Dyson
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The dark knight
He gallops into town
With nothing but his dagger and horse
He sits upon that horse
With a back as straight as a stone wall
Faster than a man's eye could detect
In one swift movement
He unmounts his mighty steed
Grabs out his dagger
With such graceful movement
He began to maul
With such stealth that's unlike any human beings'
He demolishes the small village
After looking around
Making sure everything was still and dead
He mounts his fearless steed
And canters away from the demolished village
With a frightening yet gorgeous smile upon his pale face
He begins to whistle an old tune
As if nothing had ever happened
poem by Storm Pedersen
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