It is no use asking me or anyone else how to dig... Better to go and watch a man digging, and then take a spade and try to do it.
quote by Gertrude Jekyll
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now Im A Farmer
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
My old horse is weary but sincerely
My old horse is weary but sincerely
I believe that he can pull a plough
I believe that he can pull a plough
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
To grow my own food
To grow my own food
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
That stretched as far as the eye can see
That stretched as far as the eye can see
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Buys my corn from me immediately
Buys my corn from me immediately
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Now look here son
Now look here son
The right thing to say
The right thing to say
Isnt necessarily what you want to say
Isnt necessarily what you want to say
The right thing to do
The right thing to do
Isnt necessarily what you want to do
Isnt necessarily what you want to do
The right things to grow
The right things to grow
Aint necessarily what you want to grow
Aint necessarily what you want to grow
Your own happiness
Your own happiness
Doesnt necessarily teach you what you want to know
Doesnt necessarily teach you what you want to know
Well Im suntanned and deep, sos the horse
Well Im suntanned and deep, sos the horse
And my hands are deeply grained
And my hands are deeply grained
Old horse is a-grazing, its amazing
Old horse is a-grazing, its amazing
Just how lazily he took the strain
Just how lazily he took the strain
Well my pick and spade are rusty,
Well my pick and spade are rusty,
Because Im paid on trust to leave my square of cornfield bare
Because Im paid on trust to leave my square of cornfield bare
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
When you grow what I grow
When you grow what I grow
Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants ...
Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants ...
Potatoes, tomatoes ... gourds
Potatoes, tomatoes ... gourds
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Better Way
There’s a better way of digging
Than that, Uncle said, taking the
Spade from your hands and showing
You with a craftsman’s touch how
It should be done. You watched in
Wonder how with ease and skill he’d
Made the trench begin to shape far
More quickly than your frail work
Produced. He handed you back the
Spade and you noticed the calluses
That years of using spades and other
Workman’s tools had made. He took
Hold of your hand and turned it over,
Gazed intently and smiled and shook
His head. Such lily-white hands were
Made for pen not spade or hoe or rake,
He said, finish what’s started, lad, then
Return to your studies and pen instead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Digging A Ditch
I'm digging a ditch
Where madness lives
I'm digging a ditch
Where my silence lives
I'm diggin a ditch and when I am through
Digging this ditch I'll dig one for you
Digging a ditch
As black as cold
Digging a ditch
Where I can hide my soul
Digging a ditch
Where my secrets stay
[The Newer Version
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band from Busted Stuff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, Say It As You See It
it is nice
yes, always the feeling is nice
when you call a spade a spade
lets your heart out
nothing tightens
or chokes
nothing to vomit
at the end
nothing hidden
well, they laid the principle
of candid honesty
say it as it pleases you
not as it pleases them
always, yes, always
call a spade a spade
that is rule # one
honesty, that lonely word
well, i learned it by heart
learning to say
what is in my mind
but what do i get?
nothing
everyone is displeased
with my honesty
that i am one tactless
form of shit
this monstrous mammal
this elephant with a tusk
this snake with a venom
this mischievous child
laughing at the
naked emperor
without clothes
well, yes, i still say what i see
calling a spade always a spade
and what do i get?
yes, this one,
nothing but this one
this poetry
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Spade
The beauty spot was borrowed
Now my sweet knife rusts tomorrow
I'm a confession that is waiting to be heard
Burn your empty rain down on me
Whisper your deathbeat so softly
We bend our knees at the alter of my ego
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
All my lilies' mouths are open, like they're begging for dope and hoping
their bitter petal chant, "we can kick, you wont be back"
Im a diamond that is tired, of all the faces i've aquired, we must secure the shadow ere the substance fades
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
And we said 'til we die
And we said 'til we die
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
And we said 'til we die
And we said 'til we die
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Backyard
He was digging deep into my back yard pages
using questions for a spade;
the over-turned soil started to pile high
deep dead flowers unearthed there
and who, and what phrases came from him in clumps
of queries
and gripped I was with how much
I can, could or should reveal.
'Was he your boyfriend.? How long were you two together? '
These kinds of soft queries come with hidden barbs and sharp edges
if the answers lead on to more spade queries and deeper digging into my
backyard history.
Each clunk! into that deep soil just might dig up memories long buried there with no time for censorship to dust off the dirt and clean them up and evaluate what he had found there.
I was not trying to hide but I was frozen by not being able to see in advance what lay there before I was presented with it and hesitant, had to instantly think about what to own and what to conceal.
How many backyard artifacts should each of us reveal to New Love who has no context to understand and thereby forces you to own or conceal.
I took each shovelful he presented me and simply smiled mysteriously saying 'Your questions bring up so many memories and I can't decide right now which to reveal and which to leave unsaid until I know how you deal with backyard memories; and that might take time, lots of time, for me to see, or guess why and what, you think this ecavation means.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vocation
When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our
lane.
Every day I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal
bangles!"
There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must
take, no place he must go to, no time when he must come home.
I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying,
"Bangles, crystal bangles!"
When at four in the afternoon I come back from the school,
I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging
the ground.
He does what he likes with his spade, he soils his clothes
with dust, nobody takes him to task if he gets baked in the sun or
gets wet.
I wish I were a gardener digging away at the garden with
nobody to stop me from digging.
Just as it gets dark in the evening and my mother sends me to
bed,
I can see through my open window the watchman walking up and
down.
The lane is dark and lonely, and the street-lamp stands like
a giant with one red eye in its head.
The watchman swings his lantern and walks with his shadow at
his side, and never once goes to bed in his life.
I wish I were a watchman walking the streets all night,
chasing the shadows with my lantern.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Watch Me Fade
Watch me fade.
You wont change.
You play a game.
Leave a stain.
That just wont go away.
And this will be a price you pay.
watch me fade.
Always the same.
A forgotten name.
A picture on post card.
That says i cared.
Preparing for a long trip.
Digging the trench I'm gonna hide in.
Selling your soul to keep a friend. Watch me fade.
The bar has been raised.
No longer afraid.
I lost and will lose nothing.
Its for the best.
Its hell of a mess.
But this time their is a rewind.
Its pact that cant be taken back.
Watch me fade.
Going right into the clouds.
Covered by a shroud of darkness.
Lift that veil.
Protection from sight.
Watch me fade.
Dawn, changes to dusk.
I will do what I must.
Where is the trust.
Ashes turn to dust.
A speckle on a painting.
Millions of them.
Watch me fade.
Forget my face.
Forget my name.
Memories will wain.
Traveling through the plains of endless time.
Lost in my mind.
Digging deep for the soul I keep.
I have found it again.
Watch me fade.
Assumptions made out jade.
Its so perfect that it can't be.
Don't you see.
Your disease has crawled inside me.
It slowly eats at my skin.
So i was there to defend.
So you were just pretending.
Well watch me fade.
Gone with the wind.
This time i wont be back again.
You have what you want.
So don't.
Because i won't.
It went way to far.
This time it has left scar.
I'm not a martyr for your cause.
I will not miss one bit of it.
I no longer give in to a reason that does not exist.
To care has only brought me despair.
I was choking on the air.
But now i can breath.
Now i know why i must leave.
So just watch me fade, just fade.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Nearby
Say a spade
a spade
see all fade.
Face the sky
find everything
nearby.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Deafening Stubbornness
A resting temporarily,
From a digging of a hole
Dug deep,
Is no cause for celebration.
For those blindfolded,
In a deafening stubbornness they keep.
Especially if the digging done,
Is away from and not towards the light.
And those who enthusiastically dig,
See themselves as making progress.
A progress only they believe,
Can be achieved
Without listening to others,
Standing above them in silhouette
Against the rays of the Sun.
A digging like this continued
Out of listening distance,
Has long ago begun!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I may die
I am not the one who will ditto,
Seek someone else to serve your purpose,
I call a spade spade,
If you compell me to do so,
I may die,
For the burden is unbearable
To my heart.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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My pride is…
I earn within which I eat and wear.
No jealousy, no begging either.
Calling a spade a spade, I’m content..
My pride is to live within my means.
10.07.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Diggina Ditch
Unto your dreaming,
When youre alone,
Unplug the tv,
Turn off the phone.
Get heavy on with diggin your ditch.
Cause Im digging a ditch,
Where madness gives.
Digging a ditch,
Where silence lives.
Digging a ditch,
For when Im old.
Digging a ditch,
Where stories told.
Where all these troubles,
That weigh down on me will rise,
Unto your dreaming,
When youre alone.
Where all these worries,
That hold heavy on my heart,
Will die, will die, will die...
Unto your dreaming,
When youre alone.
Unplug the tv,
Turn off the phone.
Get heavy on with diggin your ditch.
Cause Im digging a ditch,
Where madness gives.
Digging a ditch,
Where silence lives in here.
Digging a ditch,
And when Im through digging this ditch,
Ill dig in for you.
Where all these disappointments,
That grow angry out of me will die.
Where all these habits,
That hold heavy on my heart will die.
Unto your dreaming, when youre alone,
Not what youre sure be or what youve become,
Just getting heavy on with digging your ditch.
Cause Im digging a ditch,
Where madness gives again.
Im digging a ditch,
Where silence lives.
Where all these troubles that weigh down on me,
Will rise, will rise, will rise, will rise...
Unto your dreaming, when youre alone,
Unplug the tv,
Turn off the phone.
Get heavy on with digging your ditch.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With A Groove You Did Done
Dig it with your groove on.
Dig it with a groove you did done!
With a groove on...
Digging with a groove you did done.
With a groove on...
Digging with a groove you did done.
With a groove you did done.
With a groove you did done.
Don't be a half-stepper,
Doing with a digging that's done.
Regretting to be better,
Doing with a digging that's done.
Regardless of the weather,
Do with a digging that's done.
And gitcha groove on.
And gitcha, gitcha groove on.
Don't be a half-stepper,
Doing with a digging that's done.
Regretting to be better,
Doing with a digging that's done.
Regardless of the weather,
Do with a digging that's done.
And gitcha groove on.
And gitcha, gitcha groove on.
Dig it with your groove on.
Dig it with a groove you did done!
With a groove on...
Digging with a groove you did done.
With a groove on...
Digging with a groove you did done.
With a groove you did done.
With a groove you did done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slashing isn't digging nor is digging called sowing.
Shaking The Doll
Oh I wont be your pretty baby,
I wont eat from your hand again.
And the man in the white says its alright,
He says, come on girl give up the fight.
Youll go to sleep, there will be no pain.
Well I want to live with myself again.
Well, where we lived there was a lighthouse,
Throwing a white beam into our house,
Over my body when I was sleeping,
Over the secrets I was keeping,
I could tell myself there would be no pain,
But I have to live with myself again.
Im digging up, Im digging up,
Im digging up, Im digging up,
Im digging up, Im digging up,
Im digging in the earth.
Im looking for signs
And Im shaking the dolls
And the fairy-tales lied
And somewhere, back there
I didnt understand,
Man and woman and woman and man.
And Im shaking the dolls
Im shaking the dolls.
Oooh, the dream isnt coming through,
I cant feel for you.
Well somewhere, back there
I didnt understand,
Man and woman and woman and man,
And Im shaking the dolls
Im shaking the dolls.
Oooh I have to live with myself again,
Oohh I want to be with my body again,
Ooohyou cant make me hollow again.
Oooh, the dream isnt coming through
I cant feel for you.
Love, shooting up, through my veins,
I gotta get a hit again.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Diggers
The diggers are digging, and digging deep,
They’re digging and singing,
And I’m asleep.
They’re digging and singing and swiftly they’re swinging
The flying earth as it falls in a heap.
And some of it scatters and falls on my head;
But the diggers dig on. They can only dig.
They can only sing and their eyes are big,
Their eyes are big and heavy as lead.
They dig and they sing and they think I’m dead
The diggers are digging, and filling the hole.
They’re sighing and singing.
They pray for my soul.
I hear what they say, and from where I am lying,
I hear a new corporal calling the roll.
But the diggers dig on and fill in my bed,
They diggers dig on, and they sweat and they sweat.
They sigh and they sign, and their wyes are wet.
The brown earth clatters and covers my head;
Then I laugh and I laugh, for they think that I’m dead.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Digging For Gold
They married on a fancy yacht out on the water
He knew she was young enough to be his daughter
There always questions in the heart of millionaires
Would she make heartfelt promises if the money was not there
And he said, do you love me, baby, do you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold
She ran his weary heart through the ringer
And she wore him like the diamond ring around her finger
Well, his advances and affections, she managed to avoid
But, she got the lap of luxury and he got paranoid
And he said, do you love me, baby, do you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold, digging for gold
Big house, limousines,
Fine wines, fine cuisines,
Vale and vegas twice a year,
Trips to paris on the leer
Black tuesday when that wall of wealth came crashing down
Bad news day when that little queen had to give back her crown
And he said, hey babe, we can live on love cuz love is worth much more
But he barely got his feelings out, she was half way to the door
And she never even heard him cry
Do you love me, baby, do you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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