The fire trucks are out, there are thousands of people in the streets. You have a choice. You can have this, or you let Negroes eat at the lunch counters.
quote by Burke Marshall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
When every one of your arguments is characterized an attempt to bring back slavery or resegregate lunch counters, it's a little hard to have any sort of productive debate.
quote by Ann Coulter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Worcester
Worcester, the city of noise,
Walking along these city streets,
Seeing people busy,
pacing,
Cracked city walks,
Aged city houses,
Beautiful city air, '
Never seems to be a minute to spare,
As cars stream along,
Cops and fire trucks pass down my street.
Loud children playing in the streets.
As I walk down the street of mine,
I hear parents yelling at their children.
Dogs barking as you walk by,
Houses that are old and crusty,
Men and women fighting.
This right here is the city I was born in.
The City Of Worcester!
poem by Cassandra Prew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transport.
I thought I would write about, how we get about,
The various kinds of transport we see, when we are out;
It could be trains, or cars, buses, and trucks we see too,
So let me write a poem, maybe of interest to some of you.
Firstly I will write about, planes we see in the sky,
Small little 2 seaters, some may use to parachute, they'll try;
Next, is the helicopter, look like an insect flying so high,
And there are jets, of all kinds, but you can't see them fly.
Next. Is the trains, with large engines travelling along,
Then there's the small trains fixing the rails where they belong;
And what about the commuter trains, who take people everywhere,
Some in Sydney two levels, and people need to use the stair.
Now I come to trucks, all sizes and shapes and color,
Rubbish, milk, food trucks, then the giant coal mine ones with an odor;
There's the postal, and the fire truck, just too many to name,
But can't forget those council trucks, taking animals, that's a shame.
So what about buses and taxis, who come in handy,
When there is no trains to use, that's from city to dandy;
There are the usual cabs, and the maxi taxi,
So what a ride from anywhere in the coaches, but not for me.
The best sort of transport for disabled like me,
Is the motorised chair or scooter for us to get about,
But to travel to anywhere buses leave us out.
And so I'm glad there are scooters, and that makes me happy.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Put Out The Fire
Words and music by brian may
They called him a hero
In the land of the free
But he wouldnt shake my hand boy
He disappointed me
So I got my hand gun
And I blew him away
That critter was a bad guy
And I had to make him pay
You might fear for my reason
I dont care what they say
Look out baby its the season
For the mad masquerade
Put out the fire put out the fire put out the fire
Oh you need a bullet like a hole in the head
Put out the fire put out the fire put out the fire
Dont believe what your grand-daddy said
She was my lover
It was a shame that she died
But the constitutions right on my side
cause I caught my lover in the neighbours bed
I got retribution
Filled em all full of lead
Ive been told its the fashion
To let me on the streets again
Its nothing but a crime of passion
And Im not to blame
Put out the fire put out the fire put out the fire
You need a weapon like a hole in the head
Put out the fire put out the fire baby put out the fire
And let your sons and daughters sleep sound in their beds
You know a gun never killed nobody
You can ask anyone
People get shot by people
People with guns
Put out the fire put out the fire put out the fire
You need a gun like a hole in the head
Put out the fire put out the fire put out the fire
Just tell me that old fashioned gun law is dead
Shoot shoot..
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I rode fire trucks, slid down fire poles, wore a lot of red, and made a lot of appearances. I've always had a special place in my heart for fire fighters.
quote by Delta Burke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Fighters
God ignites fire
He ignites fire everywhere free
The flames spread wild
Planting flowers jading we.
We are fire fighters
We fight fire the more it flames
The more it flames the more water burns out
Our fire trucks go out of control.
We are fire fighters
But we cannot extinguish God's fire.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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Burning fragile souls
Fire brigade trucks fly on the road in breaking rules
And making an unpleasant noise.
There must be a fire somewhere?
Do they ever trace a human being's fire in the soul
Without a flame and smoke?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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People talk the streets hypnotic
Another day has come
And I cannot help it
I’ve got to go out and hear
I’ve got to go out and let it hear me
Walk the streets like walk the clouds
People speak people laugh
People laugh and their laughter
Spreads my laughter too
People look at me I look at them
They want to come into my eyes
They wonder I wonder
I take them like a picture
I want to go in they take me in
We walk together
People talk shallow talks
I hear the depths below
People beg the streets
I beg the streets with them
People seek the streets
Being sought by them
People cry my tears
People kiss I can feel the kisses
People touch I can feel the touches
People talk the streets
I talk people in the streets
Put fragments of their talk
Into a Hypnos mosaic
Of my own words
‘Communication is health. Communication.’
Note: The last line taken from Mrs Dalloway by V. Woolf
People talk - a short novel by Rastko Petrovich
Miroslava Odalovic,2010.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Must Be Freed
The ante-bellum Negro prayed,
For God to intercede,
And God in answer to him said,
'Your children shall be freed.'
The hand was seen upon the wall,
The fates at once decreed
That Negro bondsmen one and all,
Should soon be free, indeed.
'If Abraham Lincoln's president'
The South said, 'we'll secede;'
They apprehended he'd consent,
For Negroes to be freed.
To battle North against the South,
O'er states rights was agreed,
But echo from the cannon's mouth,
Said, 'Negroes must be freed.'
Confed'rates did with marked success,
McClellan's steps impede,
Till Abr'm Lincoln did confess,
That Negroes must be freed.
The Union boys with heaven's strength,
From that time did succeed;
And fought with valor till at length,
The Negro slaves were freed.
The Jim Crow car for Negroes made,
To crush their pride, indeed,
Has on the harps of thinkers played,
Those people must be freed.
The right of suffrage from the men,
Is taken out of greed;
A better day is coming when
They shall from this be freed.
Black men before the lyncher's rope,
In vain for mercy plead,
But justice cries, 'There is a hope,
From such you shall be freed.'
From ignorance and poverty,
From superstition's creed,
From those who crush his liberty,
The Negro must be freed.
The hand has written on the wall,
The clouds must all recede,
For God Whose word can never fall,
Says,'Negroes must be freed.'
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Fan The Fire
Maurice white, donald whitehead & wade flemons
**ohh its a shame
Its a shame its a shame
The flame of love is about to die
Somebody fan the fire
The flame of love is about to die
Somebody fan the fire
Love is dyin today
Somebody fan the fire
The flame of love is dyin I say
We gonna fan the fire, come on along
Little children starving in a foreign land,
Talk about it brother
Man afraid to shake his brothers hand
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
Woman in trouble callin but nobody cares
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
People denied the rights that are truly
Theirs
(its a shame)
*i believe I believe
(I believe I believe)
I believe I believe
(I believe I believe)
I believe the flame of love is about to die
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
I believe the flame of love is about to die
The flame of love is about to die
Somebody fan the fire
Flame of love is about to die
Were gonna fan the fire, come on along.
Violence striking down great men of peace
Poverty in the homes and crime in the streets
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
Kind-hearted people turnin to hate
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
Mans about to destroy the human race
(its a shame)
(*repeat)
(its a shame)
(* * repeat)
I believe the flame of love is about to die
(repeat)
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With a Readiness to Assassinate Characters
There are many trapped Negroes,
Still left behind.
And sitting on verandas, waiting...
To define themselves with wishes.
With dismissals picked,
That are easy to find!
As they pray to reopen doors...
Long abandoned,
On closed plantations.
Desperate were their needs then,
To be freed and released...
From an increase of oppressive treatment.
But mental struggles kept,
And harvested by those purists of bigotted limits.
Believing they are God's gifts.
And annointed to suppress and punish others...
As perceived from their own restricted lives lived.
In a valued wicked sickness.
And has left their land and taken stances,
Accepted as racist.
Showing their grievances on their bitter faces.
There are many trapped Negroes,
Still left behind.
With mindsets confined and enslaved.
Praying that an obeying.
Will deliver them with souls saved.
In the heavens suspended,
With harps and wings.
And praises to sing!
There are many trapped Negroes,
On expanding lazy butts!
And loving unaccountable responsibility...
That leave generations,
Annoyingly spoiled and absent of guts!
But strutting their vacant beliefs...
On filthy streets that reflect their philosophies.
There are many trapped Negroes,
Crying on the outside.
Yet denying on the inside...
They have no identities at all!
And they are lost.
There are many trapped Negroes,
Hating the fact they call themselves 'black'.
With desires to be found as clowning 'nigguhs'.
And doing their best to 'Step 'n Fetchit'.
On a backward track.
And sustaining a hip-hop gladness about that!
'Whoa...Hey!
Don't you feel some will find what you reveal offensive? '
Of course!
Especially those who oppose being referred to as Negroes.
And those African-Americans who can't stand to be called 'black'.
But not those mulattos who are thrilled to represent...
Just what it means,
To be descendents of Queens and Kings.
And proud it's digested.
Confessed and expressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Build A Fire (lenny Dee Remix)
Pulled up to rest, let the engine cool awhile.
Open the beans, gather wood for the fire.
I hum this tune, to all the girls I've known.
Should I care, about the chances I've blown?
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
They're gonna build a fire
They're gonna build a fire
When daylight breaks, I'll be down that road.
Rockman 'an me, with a lighter load.
We'll stop fo r lunch, in some taco bar.
Lee Marvin on the jukebox, 'Wanderin Star'.
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are Thousands And Thousands
there are thousands and thousands of poems
written everyday in this world where we, whether we like it or not,
still continue living, breathing, writing, sighing,
whatever that we do, singing, bathing, playing, mourning,
there are thousands and thousands of poems
thousands of us, doing the same boring things in this world,
you are one of us, we are us, us, us, us,
thousands, and trillions, we are us,
despite, i have my ears for you, my eyes,
all for you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Americans may think they have 'liberated' Baghdad but the tens of thousands of thieves - they came in families and cruised the city in trucks and cars searching for booty - seem to have a different idea what liberation means.
quote by Robert Fisk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great Chicago Fire
The great Chicago Fire, friends,
Will never be forgot;
In the history of Chicago
It will remain a darken spot.
It was a dreadful horrid sight
To see that City in flames;
But no human aid could save it,
For all skill was tried in vain.
In the year of 1871,
In October on the 8th,
The people in that City, then
Was full of life, and great.
Less than four days it lay in ruins,
That garden City, so great
Lay smouldering in ashes,
In a sad and pitiful state.
It was a sad, sad scene indeed,
To see the fire arise,
And hear the crackling of the flames
As it almost reached the skies,
And sadder still, to hear the moans,
Of people in the flames
Cry for help, and none could get,
Ah, die where they remained.
To see the people run for life;
Up and down the blazing streets,
To find then, their escape cut off
By the fiery flaming sheets,
And others hunting for some friend
That perhaps they never found,
Such weeping, wailing, never was known,
For a thousands miles around.
Some people were very wealthy
On the morning of the 10th.
But at the close of the evening,
Was poor, but felt content,
Glad to escape from harm with life
With friends they loved so well,
Some will try to gain more wisdom,
By the sad sight they beheld.
Five thousand people were homeless,
Sad wanderers in the streets,
With no shelter to cover them,
And no food had they to eat.
They wandered down by the lake side,
Lay down on the cold damp ground,
So tired and weary and homeless,
So the rich, the poor, was found.
Mothers with dear little infants,
Some clinging to the breast.
People of every description
All laid down there to rest,
With the sky as their covering,
Ah, pillows they had none.
Sad, oh sad, it must have been,
For those poor homeless ones.
Neighboring Cities sent comfort,
To the poor lone helpless ones,
And God will not forget them
In all the years to come.
Now the City of Chicago
Is built up anew once more,
And may it never be visited
With such a great fire no more.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Girls Just Want To Have Lunch
[parody of girls just want to have fun by cyndi lauper]
I know to keep a woman satisfied.
When I whip out my diners card their eyes get so wide.
Theyre always in the mood for something to munch.
Ah girls, they wanna have lunch.
Ah, girls just wanna have...
Thats all they really want,
Some lunch.
Dont ask em to dinner
Or breakfast or brunch,
cause girls, they wanna have lunch.
Ah, girls just wanna have lunch.
Girls they want, wanna have lunch, girls, wanna have...
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire In My Body
The fire in my eyes are like the fire of a thousands suns,
The fire in my eyes is because of hate,
The hate comes from the fire of my heart,
My heart builds up of a lot of hate,
So what I am doing is burning it away!
Which causes the fire in my eyes?
My eyes are flamed, when they see other people hating on them,
So why cant everyone’s hate just be gone! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Steve Gonzales
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Revitalization Created
A revitalization created,
To rid 'collected' colors...
For a more luxurized version,
Of diversed flavor.
Within urban city streets.
To make these 'areas' safer,
For suburbanites to live...
Meet, greet and eat.
Has had its economic disappointments.
For those dollar counters.
A vibrant atmosphere in the air,
Was no longer there.
This could not be reconstructed.
An obstruction made this clear.
The laughter and merriment,
Had disappeared.
And none of this could be poured,
From concrete.
The renaming of historic streets.
Or the laying of new bricks.
With an electric absence eclectic,
Uninvited!
To address the relocation of jealousies.
At the expense of unadmitted insecurities!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Build A Fire
Pulled up to rest, let the engine cool awhile.
Open the beans, gather wood for the fire.
I hum this tune, to all the girls Ive known.
Should I care, about the chances Ive blown?
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
Theyre gonna build a fire
Theyre gonna build a fire
When daylight breaks, Ill be down that road.
Rockman an me, with a lighter load.
Well stop for lunch, in some taco bar.
Lee marvin on the jukebox, wanderin star.
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Of Lagos
This is street of Lagos
one of the greatest city in
Africa.In the street layed
the crowd of the country
it is known as a meeting
place for all ethnic.
This is Lagos.
This is lagos in the street
sit the beggar, beging for arms
the noise in the streets can
rise the dead from the grave.
Fights at the end of the street
day by day, as the leaves
fall from the tree day by
day, that is how people fall
down in the street.
This is Lagos.
This is Lagos, the traders
advertise their products
with sweet voices.
Trucks in streets, go
Slow is the order of the
day.At the order side of
the street stands the
policemen extorting
Money from the buses
drivers.
This is Lagos.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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