As we moved along in a little procession, I was delighted with the illumination of the streets. So many lamps, and they burned until morning, my father said, and so people did not need to carry lanterns.
quote by Mary Antin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Father
Father, blessed father,
Its morning again.
I give you, father, myself, father,
Continue your plan.
I know together we can climb mountains in the sky.
No one can stop us when Im standing by your side.
Troubles knocking here again;
Ill tell him jesus has me by his hand.
Hell walk me through.
Father, loving father,
Create in me
A pure love, father, your love, father,
Instill it in me.
I remember the nights Ive cried for you;
Now I only have to die for you;
Thank you, lord, youve made it clear just for me.
I see the light;
Its burning out the night.
Oh, father,
Its morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Carry On
He hasn't seen a drop of rain for months it seems
Rollin river is nothing; but a tricklin' stream
The crops are dyin' in the harsh sun light
The dust on his tongue is dry
The fatted calf is down to skin and bones
We carry on
Alone in the city and she's only seventeen
The boy left her black and blue on the streets so mean
Just twelve weeks along and she's got a life inside
Said shes never ever felt so alone
She walks in the shelter, they say welcome home
And we carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
Beyond the picket fences and the oil wells
The happy endings and the fairy tales
Is the reality of shattered lives and broken dreams
We carry on
Carry on
It's the family that grieves for a lost loved one
It's the soldier who won't leave till the job is done
It's the addict trying to turn his life around
It's pickin' yourself up off the ground when you've been knocked down
We carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
Carry on
We carry on
He stands in the field, cooled by the winds of change
She smiles as her baby moves and it starts to rain
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Our Dead Do
Jan came this morning
—I dreamt of my father
he says
he was riding in an oak coffin
I walked next to the hearse
and father turned to me:
you dressed me nicely
and the funeral is very beautiful
at this time of year so many flowers
it must have cost a lot
don’t worry about it father
—I say—let people see
we loved you
that we spared nothing
six men in black livery
walk nicely at our sides
father thought for a while
and said—the key to the desk
is in the silver inkwell
there is still some money
in the second drawer on the left
with this money—I say—
we will buy you a gravestone
a large one of black marble
it isn’t necessary—says father—
better give it to the poor
six men in black livery
walk nicely at our sides
they carry burning lanterns
again he seemed to be thinking
—take care of the flowers in the garden
cover them for the winter
I don’t want them to be wasted
you are the oldest—he says—
from a little felt bag behind the painting
take out the cuff links with real pearls
let them bring you luck
my mother gave them to me
when I finished high school
then he didn’t say anything
he must have entered a deeper sleep
this is how our dead
look after us
they warn us through dreams
bring back lost money
hunt for jobs
whisper the numbers of lottery tickets
or when they can’t do this
knock with their fingers on the windows
and out of gratitude
we imagine immortality for them
snug as the burrow of a mouse
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sans People
Will you let me have a glimpse of people?
People on the streets? People sauntering by, people smiling.
People intending to take a right turn,
Suddenly changed the mind and took to the left.
People across the meadows,
Past the shops, cinemas, theatres, Opera houses,
People racing down, people in the cars, bus, tram, train.
How I wish to have a glimpse of them, the procession of people!
Will you let me have a glimpse of them-
Men, women and children in the houses?
Am I to live only with the fluky glimpse of a strip of cloud
Or the streak of sun, penetrating through the chinks of my window?
People, they said are barred out,
I've to live the rest of my life sans people.
poem by Taslima Nasrin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More Than Love
Every morning takes a chance, it might not come around
So its maybe coming later
A preacher man on my t.v.
Says hes got the streets for me
And prays you write the letter
Heavenly father tell me how its gonna be
So that I can try to make it better
Restless bars, you and I suppose they are
For blowing it all away
Thats why I say
It takes more than love to get it on
You know it takes more than strength to carry on
It takes more than words to get it wrong
It takes more than love to get it on
Making us crazy, burnin our bridges
Taking them out one at a time
Goodbyes you know dont come easy
Did you wanna go, for the thrill of it all
Why dyou wanna go cause you had no reason
For blowin it all away
It takes more than love to get it on
You know it takes more than strength to carry on
It takes more than words to get it wrong
It takes more than love to get it on
Ships are sailing and you know your aim is true
The figureheads have broken in your mind
You paint yourself a picture, and it turns to black and white
And settle with the people one more time
Chorus to fade
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pray Sincerely
There may exist various types of lamps
They'd have been from different camps.
They may exist made of various materials
They may be made for the Imperials.
They may exist in divergent shapes
In multifarious forms even as of grapes.
They may exist in many hues predominant
Made of disparate colours prominent.
They may contain oils multiform
Each with a varying viscosity norm.
They may hold distinct types of wicks
Each made of diverse sticks and picks.
Though the lamps are amply diversified
In all aspects they are one from inside.
And when all of them are ignited
Lo! They are in the same way lighted!
All have the same light energy of flame
A gas in excited state, the plasma—to name.
All forms of lamps from their foundation
Emit the same brilliant illumination.
There may exist different views of the Divine
And different paths may exist to reach the Divine.
But the mode of approach to attain the goal
Is our sincere effort to pray with heart and soul.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Great Procession of Priests and Laymen
A procession of priests and laymen—
each walk of life represented—
moves through streets, squares, and gates
of the famous city, Antioch.
At the head of this imposing procession
a handsome white-clad boy
carries the Cross, his arms raised—
our strength and hope, the holy Cross.
The pagans, lately so full of arrogance,
now reticent and cowardly,
quickly slink away from the procession.
Let them keep their distance, always keep their distance from us
(as long as they do not renounce their errors).
The holy Cross goes forward; it brings joy and consolation
to every quarter where Christians live;
and these God-fearing people, elated,
stand in their doorways and greet it reverently,
the strength, the salvation of the universe, the Cross.
This is an annual Christian festival.
But today, you see, it is more conspicuous.
The empire is delivered at last.
The vile, the appalling Julian
reigns no longer.
For most pious Jovian let us give our prayers.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The apostles were moved, not so much by an intellectual apprehension, as by a spiritual illumination. They met men, and the need of those men whom they met cried aloud to them.
quote by Roland Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Like My Father
Sunday morning
Yesterday’s cigars smelt like him
Bold
Specific in their smell
Just like my father
Always hyper
Sometimes amusing
Never genuine
Just like my father
His drinking
Is no dilemma
What leaves me queasy
Is drunk sincerity
Just like my father
Stumbling in the house
Reeking of cheap brandy
At 5 in the morning
Just like my father
With sayings
Not possibly, farther
From the truth
Just like my father
Leaving me
Alone
Afraid
and only
as innocent
as i hoped
i could have been
Just like my father
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Will Be Moved
Performed by mavis staples
Composed by prince
U will be moved when the baby lets out his very first cry
U will be moved when u think of how hard hell have 2 try
Hell grow up on an empty stomach, but hell try his best 2 listen
2 the teacher readin from a schoolbook with half the pages missin
Chorus:
Surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da
See the video
U will be moved, and u will be when the baby makes all the grades
U will be moved, and u will be when they still dont hire him anyway
Moved by a system without one single guarantee
That an education is the answer and love will set us free
Chorus
Oh, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets overflow with angry souls, thats when u see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
Chorus
U will be moved when the whip comes down on the back of one of your own
U will be moved when u look 4 compassion but u find ure all alone
Moved, and u will be when u are, thats when ull know
That the bread u share is better than the blood that your deeds have caused 2 flow
(that the bread is better than the blood)
Chorus
Hey, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets all flow with angry souls, thats when ull see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
I said surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da (la da da da da)
See the video
Hey, surely, surely, surely (when the rain comes)
Surely yall
Ow, la da da da da
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Glance From The Past
…. And the music played… and so the lyrics moved….
This heart… and in this heart, I am living in the past:
I saw not my father's heart or his arms around me;
Neither his hand dug into morsels of rice to my lips,
Nor his belt to my butt or bamboo whips to my skin,
But his fingers ran through my hair when I had sinned.
His path to follow his love which I knew not then,
His strength to stand with feet in muddled ground,
It's not how he walked barefooted on a slippery-road
But to carry me from dirt, on his shoulder, he would.
His voice, when authority spoke, either high or low,
To command his carabao, it wasn't his power to show,
With no fear under rain, lightning, or thunder's sound,
I am this farmer's son and his valor for me was unbound.
It wasn't all of what he knows best that I must learn,
Toil a soil, drive a nail, paddle a raft, or centavo to earn,
But from dikes of ricefields to city streets of Agana, Guam,
Through his eyes, I saw my father's dream how I become.
….. Then the lyrics ended and so the music had died …….
But in this heart and only in this heart my father lives.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We went out of our minds with the easy life
We went out of our minds with the easy life,
Wine from morning on, hungover by evening,
How can I keep this idle gaiety,
Your blush, O drunken plague?
An agonizing ceremony in a handshake,
Nocturnal kisses on the streets,
While the currents of speech grow heavy,
And lanterns burn like torches.
We wait for death, like the fairytale wolf,
But I'm afraid that the first to die will be
The one with the anxious red mouth
And the forelock covering his eyes.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Life is an Easter Egg Hunt
People hide things from you
And you might find a few
You put some aside
To keep for yourself
And some you put back,
For others to find
You don’t know what’s inside until you peek
Hoping you’ll find what you seek
You don’t always get what you want
But you get stuck with it ‘cause everybody’s moved on
On occasions you get something and it falls out
And you start to wonder to yourself
Others may try to help you
Picking them up to carry you through
But nobody’s perfect and some just stay
Get covered up by mud and clay
And when you go back to find it
You get intertwined in your mess
But if you carry through you’ll get to;
Put on a wedding ring
Scrunch on water wings
Put together a swing
Walk your daughter down her wedding isle
But your hunt is over,
All things must come to an end
And in that deathbed you lay,
Starting someone else’s Easter day
You need a basket to carry your weight
You need a handle to keep it lightweight
You need people to make or break
You need eggs to keep you up straight
poem by Big Boychick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Follow A Famous Father
I follow a famous father,
His honor is mine to wear;
He gave me a name that was free from shame,
A name he was proud to bear.
He lived in the morning sunlight,
And marched in the ranks of right.
He was always true to the best he knew
And the shield that he wore was bright.
I follow a famous father,
And never a day goes by
But I feel that he looks down to me
To carry his standard high.
He stood to the sternest trials
As only a brave man can;
Though the way be long, I must never wrong
The name of so good a man.
I follow a famous father,
Not known to the printed page,
Nor written down in the world's renown
As a prince of his little age.
But never a stain attached to him
And never he stooped to shame;
He was bold and brave and to me he gave
The pride of an honest name.
I follow a famous father,
And him I must keep in mind;
Though his form is gone, I must carry on
The name that he left behind.
It was mine on the day he gave it,
It shone as a monarch's crown,
And as fair to see as it came to me
It must be when I pass it down.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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Outbreak of Peace
I awakened this morning...
So early I was shakened!
Did I hear someone say...
'There's been an outbreak of peace!
A recipe of peace is in all ovens baking? ! '
Did I hear this correctly?
So I went to the window to see!
And sure enough...
I saw Morning Doves!
Morning Doves at the base of a tree!
I opened the window,
And they chirped and moved on!
Leaving me with a 'song'...
To carry with me all day long!
Something perhaps I reflect,
And can be detected by others...
Who will take and pass it on!
I know something felt different...
Within me.
Yet in my heart it kept singing
Stronger until it longed
To belong.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Save Them Father
Father you are always on my mind, I love you Father and trust
in you with all my heart. I have no questions for your decisions,
my faith is strong and true.
Father I’m in awe when I look around this world, when I stand
and take in the awesome views, I know this is the work of the
Master, and that Master for certain is you.
This morning Father I pray for those without faith, who can not
see pass their noses. They have eyes that function, but they
truly can not see.
Father give these blind people the ability to come out from their
deadened shells, touch them with your spirit, let them see the
light.
Oh Father God, drench them with your love so they make no
mistake. Take them by the hand so some day they too will
walk through Heaven’s Gate.
Father sometime young people are taken in by those who have
no interest in their soul but only in the money that they hold.
The devil’s people live among us, taking advantage of many.
Your children need your guidance Father and your continued
patience for I truly believe some day they will come out of the
darkness, walk into the light and face the truth.
Father I leave these people to you, in your caring hands. May
they make Jesus the center of their lives and join their brothers
and sisters who know the truth, save them Father.
I Love you Father and I ask this Lord in the name of your only
Son Jesus.-Amen
Written: Sept.30,2007
poem by Melvina Germain
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Legacy 3
I am my father’s child
I am from him, part him
But not him
Others see him in me, but I do not
I carry his pain like a curse
Always haunting me like an inescapable obsession
Just as he carried his father’s pain
I am my father’s child
And my son will carry my pain
poem by Alfonso Siverls
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Who are near to God?
A deity was in procession.
Some carried it on their shoulders.
With the priest near the idol,
Displaying it to the crowd.
Some held lamps to give it lights.
Some were pipers and drummers.
In multitudes were worshipers.
Other than worshipers, all are paid.
Who are near to god?
12.01.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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