Sometimes you got to hurt something to help something. Sometimes you have to plow under one thing in order for something else to grow.
quote by Ernest Gaines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Gospel Plow
Mary wore three links of chain,
Every link was jesus name,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Mary, mark and luke and john,
All them prophets so good and gone,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Well I never been to heaven, but Ive been told,
Streets up there are lined with gold,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes we must (2)
Sometimes
We adapt in tranquility
Yet face the
Insolent society.
Sometimes
We get hurt
In order to grow.
Sometimes
We fail
In order to know.
Sometimes
We feel maturity
Yet unaware off
Our creativity.
Sometimes
We go through
The complexity
To maintain
Our originality.
Sometimes
Our visions broaden
When our eyes
Are washed away
With tears.
poem by lil island Gal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing Pains
I thought it hurt to grow up
when my legs became shards of pain
that kept me up all night
crying tears and clinging to mommy
I thought it hurt to grow up
the day I saw my daddy cry
and ask his brother to get up,
to stop playing and wake up from the dead
I thought it hurt to grow up
when my mommy got a call from back east
where grandma Kiehl finally said goodbye
to grandpa, and hello to God.
I thought it hurt to grow up
when I got the call from my wife and
all I remember, really, is her asking
'Are you sitting down? '
What hurts the most while growing up
is waking every day and watching
one by one illusions, like sandcastles,
washed away before the ebb of time
poem by Poet Dragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Plow
Outside my window the snow is white,
a winter mist I see so bright.
I hear through chrystals snow on snow,
a distant engine of a plow.
The chrystals falling from the sky,
in a way which I can’t tell you why
On the ground there is heavy snow
the plow is getting nearer now
The window sticks just like a stamp
against my fingers, cold and damp.
I see the sight of untouched snow,
I see the fountain of the plow.
The plow went by ten minutes ago
back is now a usable road
I hear through chrystals, snow on snow;
the distant engine of the plow
poem by Espen Øye Bjørkvold
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Hurt Yourself
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
There'll come a time when all of this is over
Something else will grow and take it's place
The brand new car:scrap metal in a junkyard
The children playing will grow up and leave home
Put it away this dream you can't stop dreaming
Put it away this anger and desire
The open road is infinitely hopeful
Take all those memories and throw them in the fire
And don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore
There's old man on a warm and sunny island
No job, no money, just a smile to call his own
Know what he says?. "The past will only haunt you.
Live for today. Each day's an open door
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore"
Nothing to lose is nothing to fight over
The shining stars!
They've seen it all before.
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore
Dust keeps coming. Rust keeps coming. Weeds keep growing. Seeds keep growing
Where you going?
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plowman's Song
Turn under, plow,
My trouble;
Turn under griefs
And stubble.
Turn mouse's nest,
Gnawing years;
Old roots up
For new love's tears.
Turn, plow, the clods
For new thunder.
Turn under, plow,
Turn under.
poem by Raymond Knister
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain On A Scarecrow
Scarecrow on a wooden cross Blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did My grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans
Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed
Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land
He said John it's just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol' hoss sure don't make it right
But if you want me to I'll say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandma's on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing "Take me to the Promised Land"
When you take away a man's dignity he can't work his fields and cows
There'll be blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin' Like that scarecrow in the rain
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plowmen
A plow, they say, to plow the snow.
They cannot mean to plant it, no --
Unless in bitterness to mock
At having cultivated rock.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain On The Scarecrow
Scarecrow on a wooden cross blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did my grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Chorus:
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me proud
And son Im just sorry theres no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer werent enough to pay the loans
Couldnt buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosed
Called my old friend schepman up to auction off the land
He said john its just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol hoss sure dont make it right
But if you want me to Ill say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandmas on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing take me to the promised land
When you take away a mans dignity he cant work his fields and cows
Therell be blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Well theres ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin like that scarecrow in the rain
Chorus:
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me proud
And son Im just sorry theyre just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me so proud
And son Im just sorry theyre just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Simple Thing Like Cry
(nickolas ashford/valerie simpson)
If it didnt hurt so bad
If it didnt hurt so bad
Maybe I could cry
If I thought it was all a joke
And you were putting me on
If I could just make a wish
And this moment would be all gone
If I could see a trace of hope
Somewhere in your eyes
Maybe then I could do
A simple thing like cry
If it didnt hurt so bad
If it didnt hurt so bad
Maybe I could cry
Dont you know I plan to spend
Every moment of my life with you
Now youre trying to tell me
That my dreams just wont come true
Thanks for giving me a million reasons why
But it hurts too bad to do
A simple thing like cry
If I thought it was all a joke
And you were putting me on
If I could just make a wish
And this moment would be all gone
If I could see a trace of hope
Somewhere in your eyes
Maybe then I could do
A simple thing like cry
If it didnt hurt so bad
If it didnt hurt me so bad
Maybe I could
If it didnt hurt so bad
Maybe I could cry
I could cry, cry
If it didnt hurt me
If I didnt love you
Hurt me
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Plow Of My Papa
today is the last day to sell the plow of my papa
it is a necessary part of his lifetime
in fact
his lifetime is the plow itself that made the lines
of his own poetry in the fields
of rice and corn
today another man shall have it
at the price we all wanted
we have sold all that he had
the land, the house, the trees he planted
when he was still alive
when he was still strong and cruel and so imposing
this is his only plow
and we have dedided to dispose it finally
to any man
we are now at the stage of reconstructing our lives
and the plow of papa must go
we shall have our own fields now of rice and corn
on a white canvass we draw
the new sun, its color shall be warm, something new really
to the feel of our skins
the darker ones shall be replaced by the flowing color
of the clouds like feathers of birds always ready to fly away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pick Up The Plow!
put down your sword,
pick up the plow!
a new day has come,
a new world before us!
in the beginning again,
we are the first hope.
pick up the plow,
till the earth...
our home and our hope!
a new day, a new way,
we work side by side..
beneath the sun, in the rain...
and we make love all night!
time is for the taker,
and now is the time...
put down your sword,
pick up the plow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purely Metaphysical-Letters to a Consciousness Waiting in Waste Letter X
Suffering made a brief visit in my life early this morning.
Instead of finding you last night I was found by another. She would not compete.
However mistakes had to be made in order for me to grow to the next realisation of truth.
Truth that I love you and no other.
Truth that you live and grow in my heart.
Truth that you are always in my thoughts.
Truth that I must tell you how I feel.
More and more, I grow courageous enough to express my compassion for you.
Truth is to live my life with you, freely and forever.
I will never hurt truth.
I will live and love truth.
I will know, understand and believe truth.
I will do everything I can to let you know truth.
I will not fear truth.
If you reject me, I will still love.
If you accept me, we will become love.
The truth of love
poem by Steve Bergwerff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's life isn't it? You plow ahead and make a hit. And you plow on and someone passes you. Then someone passes them. Time levels.
quote by Katharine Hepburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ouch That Really Hurt
Ouch that really hurt, When I fell the other night,
From my bed down to the floor, it must've been a funny sight;
Strewn about, arms and legs, Each in a different direction,
But what a shame I can't take, painkilling medication.
Ouch that really hurt, The way you spoke to me,
But most of all that did hurt, you said you loved me;
Another thing you really hurt, is that you can't be trusted,
You've changed, towards me, and yet blaming me you must.
Ouch that really hurt, The way you bullied me,
Its not fair, what you do, oh can't you see;
To force yourself, to push me around, please oh why,
When I go home, I feel the hurt makes me cry.
Ouch that really hurt, The harassment I get,
Because I may be different, it sure makes me upset,
Why can't you look inside my heart, it's the same as you,
Just treat me please as your equal, that's what you must do.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It Grow
Morning comes, she follows the path to the river shore,
Lightly sung, her song is the latch on the mornings door.
See the sun sparkle in the reeds, silver beads, pass into the sea.
She comes from a town where they call her the woodcutters daughter,
Shes brown as the bank where she kneels down to gather her water, and
She bears it away with a love that the river has taught her.
Let it flow, greatly grow, wide and clear.
Round and round, the cut of the plow in the furrowed field,
Seasons round, the bushels of corn and the barley meal,
Broken ground, open and beckoning to the spring,
Black dirt live again!
The plowman is broad as the back of the land he is sowing,
As he dances the circular track of the plow ever knowing
That the work of his day measures more than the planting and growing
Let it grow, let it grow, greatly yield.
What shall we say, shall we call it by a name,
As well to count the angels dancing on a pin.
Water bright as the sky from which it came,
And the name is on the earth that takes it in.
We will not speak but stand inside the rain,
And listen to the thunder shouting I am! I am! I am! I am.
Nothin more, the love of the women, work of men.
Seasons round, creatures great and small, up and down as we rise and fall.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Joys of Prairie Farmers
We let Ontario farmers sing
About the joys the woods do bring,
But we, in regions of North-West
Do think prairie farms the best,
For those poor men who swing the axe
On their strength 'tis a heavy tax ;
For several years they naught can grow,
While from the first we plow and sow,
And while we plow we dont get thumps
By running it against the stumps ;
And where wild buffalo now doth feed
There very soon we'll sow the seed ;
Where Indian wigwams now do stand
Will be the site of cities grand,
And where the deer and wolf doth roam
Millions will build each happy home,
So quick as if by magic wand
They will arise o'er the whole land ;
But this one fact we wont deny
Ontario, she can supply,
For so skilfully she doth invent
Each agricultural implement.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain and Hurt
born in to pain and hurt
growing in pain and hurt
living in pain and hurt
sleeping in pain and hurt
waking in pain and hurt
cuting in pain and hurt
bleeding in pain and hurt
crying in pain and hurt
i know nothing other then pain and hurt
i use drugs to end the pain and hurt
but all i get is pain and hurt
is there nothing other then pain and hurt
in this painful and hurtful world?
poem by Anna Sprague
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want You To Hurt Like I Do
I ran out on my children
And I ran out on my wife
Gonna run out on you too, baby
I done it all my life
Everybody cried the night I left
Well, almost everybody did
My little boy just hung his head
And I put my arm, put my arm around his little shoulder
And this is what I said:
Sonny I just want you to hurt like I do
I just want you to hurt like I do
I just want you to hurt like I do
Honest I do, honest I do, honest I do
If I had one wish
One dream I knew would come true
Id want to speak to all the people of the world
Id get up there, Id get up there on that platform
First Id sing a song or two you know I would
Then Ill tell you what Id do
Id talk to the people and Id say
Its a rough rough world, its a tough tough world
Well, you know
And things dont always, things dont always go the way we plan
But theres one thing, one thing we all have in common
And its something everyone can understand
All over the world sing along
I just want you to hurt like I do
I just want you to hurt like I do
I just want you to hurt like I do
Honest I do, honest I do, honest I do
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don’t Look Back
Don’t Look Back, but just ahead, when by The Shepherd we are lead,
Once our hands are on that plow, let the Lord fill your heart with wow,
Looking towards what God will do, as the past He’s seen us through,
So do not allow your faith to lack, when in your heart, you look back.
When tempted to look back instead, we’ll be simply filled with dread,
Not looking to the One in control, we shall waver and sometimes fall.
God may be working in those we know, to help them and us to grow,
As we journey on unplowed ground, only in God is true peace found.
We must plow ahead in faith and trust, as God above leads all of us,
And when we do face a setback, Christ, provides that peace we lack.
We can't turn to the left or right, but, rely on God’s Power and Might,
To deliver us from the darkest place, through the power of His Grace.
In faith, we can all move forward, with our eyes focused on our Lord,
Not upon anybody or anything, but, steadfastly upon Christ our King,
Who presently reigns in our heart, and from our lives He won’t depart,
As He guides us straight and true, in any situation all the way through.
We could plow through any fire, when God’s Will becomes our desire,
Coming through them truly purified, with Christ our Savior by our side,
And as Believers, being Spirit lead, we’ll move for Him straight ahead,
While on our way to Heaven above, strengthened truly by God’s Love.
(Copyright ©02/2009)