The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.
quote by Marge Piercy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be of Use
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
poem by Marge Piercy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Thirsty Crow
Have you ever heard this story before?
Of a wise and clever thirsty crow?
Well, if you haven't then listen
The famous tale of this hero, now let's begin,
It happened when in a spell of dry weather,
The poor birds could find very little water,
This crow, when he felt thirsty,
Searched for some water desperately,
But in summer, as it was great famine,
Even a dropp of water he couldn't find,
This unfortunate fellow thought that he must,
In despair surely die of thirst,
Then suddenly he spied an old pitcher,
Filled with very little water,
But oh! The pitcher was so high with a narrow neck,
The little water, the poor crow could never get,
He was unlucky, thought the crow,
His beak couldn't reach the water as it was low,
Then suddenly a brilliant idea flashed into his mind,
Around him some pebbles he could find,
He picked some pebbles and threw into the pitcher,
And finally the water raised its level,
This clever fellow then threw more pebbles
Until the water was higher in the pitcher,
Higher enough for his beak to reach the water,
The thirsty crow now took a sip of water,
Then drank more water from the pitcher,
Until he was no more thirsty,
The genius crow then flew away,
To tell the world about his victory!
poem by Sadia Maqsood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carry Me Away
I called you up today to bridge my sorrow
Carry me over the line to you
How long will it take to reach tomorrow
Seems like a whole lot of time
Just these thoughts to pull me through
I see blue carpet and cold moonlight settled in
Voices whisper doubts of how I should have been
I feel like Im over the water
But Im caught in the tide
Tell are you calling for me
Does this come deep from inside
Carry me away
Under the water
Over the mind
Carry me away
Under the water
Over the mind
The sound slowly fades and trickles away from the sea
Its only the windows and i
They hear my dream
Im walking a distance I feel Ive been running for miles
Happy times dont last long
I finally got that its too late to smile
Carry me away
Under the water
Over the mind
Carry me away
Under the water
Over the mind
Carry me away
Under the water
Into your mind
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Mother To Daughter From Mother To Daughter.
Drink in some,
ice cold water little girl,
drink in some ice cold water,
some day you'll be big and strong,
but water will carry you all along.
Drink in some ice cold water little girl,
the day has been harsh to you,
the times are tough,
and getting rough,
but water will carry you though.
Drink in some ice cold water little girl,
although it's not getting easier,
refresh yourself,
from a nearby creek,
and maybe you'll see just what you need,
maybe water will show it to you.
Drink in some ice cold water little girl,
although you have grown much bigger,
you maybe be growing up strong and tall,
but water has carried you through.
Drink in some,
ice cold water little girl,
drink in some ice cold water,
some day you'll be big and strong,
but water will carry you all along.
poem by Sandra jacks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whether the pitcher strike the stone or the stone the pitcher, the pitcher suffers.
Whether the pitcher strikes the stone, or the stone the pitcher, it is bad for the pitcher.
Whether the pitcher strike the stone, or the stone the pitcher, woe be to the pitcher.
If the pitcher knocks against a stone, woe to the pitcher; and if the stone knocks against the pitcher, woe to the pitcher.
I'm always amazed when a pitcher becomes angry at a hitter for hitting a home run off him. When I strike out, I don't get angry at the pitcher, I get angry at myself. I would think that if a pitcher threw up a home run ball, he should be angry at himself.
quote by Willie Stargell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every great batter works on the theory that the pitcher is more afraid of him than he is of the pitcher.
Carry You
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
If I can walk on water
And calm a restless sea
I've done a thousand things you've never done
And I'm weary watchin'
While you struggle on your own
Call my name, I'll come
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
I give vision to the blind
And I can raise the dead
I've seen the darker side of Hell
And I returned
And I see these sleepless nights
And I count every tear you cry
I know some lessons hurt to learn
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you, my child
I see these sleepless nights
And I count every tear you cry
And call my name, I'll come runnin'
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Hey-Yeah-Hey-Yeah Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And then when I went to stay in '68, I can honestly say that I was not focused on my career and on what it took to be a major league pitcher and to be a starting pitcher.
quote by Nolan Ryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Carry On
It's easy to fight when everything's right,
And you're mad with the thrill and the glory;
It's easy to cheer when victory's near,
And wallow in fields that are gory.
It's a different song when everything's wrong,
When you're feeling infernally mortal;
When it's ten against one, and hope there is none,
Buck up, little soldier, and chortle:
Carry on! Carry on!
There isn't much punch in your blow.
You're glaring and staring and hitting out blind;
You're muddy and bloody, but never you mind.
Carry on! Carry on!
You haven't the ghost of a show.
It's looking like death, but while you've a breath,
Carry on, my son! Carry on!
And so in the strife of the battle of life
It's easy to fight when you're winning;
It's easy to slave, and starve and be brave,
When the dawn of success is beginning.
But the man who can meet despair and defeat
With a cheer, there's the man of God's choosing;
The man who can fight to Heaven's own height
Is the man who can fight when he's losing.
Carry on! Carry on!
Things never were looming so black.
But show that you haven't a cowardly streak,
And though you're unlucky you never are weak.
Carry on! Carry on!
Brace up for another attack.
It's looking like hell, but -- you never can tell:
Carry on, old man! Carry on!
There are some who drift out in the deserts of doubt,
And some who in brutishness wallow;
There are others, I know, who in piety go
Because of a Heaven to follow.
But to labour with zest, and to give of your best,
For the sweetness and joy of the giving;
To help folks along with a hand and a song;
Why, there's the real sunshine of living.
Carry on! Carry on!
Fight the good fight and true;
Believe in your mission, greet life with a cheer;
There's big work to do, and that's why you are here.
Carry on! Carry on!
Let the world be the better for you;
And at last when you die, let this be your cry:
Carry on, my soul! Carry on!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If There Is A God 'Twould Seem To Me
If there is a God 'twould seem to me that God would not have a creed
Or would not favour any religious belief such divisive influences a supreme being would not need
Amongst his or her Earthly followers the real God would rule for everyone
A real God would act as a real God should when all is said and done.
Amongst his flock for even an atheist the real God would find a place
And a real God would not differentiate between Nationality and Race
Those who say the God they believe in is the one true God they do have it all wrong
If there is a God surely that God to everyone does belong.
A real God is for her and him as well as you and me
A real God is for everyone though you do not agree
Only in the God of your religion the true God you do see
Suppose as some are known to say we all look at things differently.
If there is a God it does seem to me that God is of human kind
And every good person he or she the real God lives in their mind
And whether you live as an atheist or to a God you do pray
As long as you are a good person with me that is okay.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When A Person Does Not Know What
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
WHAT DO I KNOW? \AND WHO AM I?
What do I know?
And who am I?
The real questions
I cannot answer
They are beyond me.
And I don't think
I have anything to give
Even in beginning to answer them.
Just another human being
Who has come this way
And soon will be gone
Without ever having answered
The real questions.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Potters' Clay
Though the pitcher that goes to the sparkling rill
Too oft gets broken at last,
There are scores of others its place to fill
When its earth to the earth is cast ;
Keep that pitcher at home, let it never roam,
But lie like a useless clod,
Yet sooner or later the hour will come
When its chips are thrown to the sod.
Is it wise, then, say, in the waning day,
When the vessel is crack'd and old,
To cherish the battered potter's clay,
As though it were virgin gold ?
Take care of yourself, dull, boorish elf,
Though prudent and safe you seem,
Your pitcher will break on the musty shelf,
And mine by the dazzling stream.
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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Wet Lands In June
It is June and the skies are charging
With thunder and clouds full of water
We see the restoration of a normal beginning
Indeed God has made us a wonder
The earth is wet, the flowers are in full bloom
Giving way to new fruits
Yam and corn are enough to consume
And water washing down to their roots
The inhabitants now make merry
Their cries have ceased
For there are so many crops to carry
Harvests have again increased
The thirst of the land has been quenched by the rain
Giving us a shift from death to birth
Our cries to the Lord were not in vain
And he has provided us with much mirth
Come lets rejoice, for the hand of iniquity has been removed
Our integrity has been reinstated
Because living conditions on our farms has improved
The answer to prayers long awaited
Praise be to the Almighty for these great things
For we now celebrate again in June
There are abundant of water springs
And each and every one has a silver spoon.
poem by Mark Nyamekye Boadi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No matter how often a pitcher goes to the water it is broken in the end.
No matter how often a pitcher goes to the water, it is broken in the end.
One must fill the pitcher while the water is flowing.