Slumber not in the tents of your fathers. The world is advancing.
quote by Giuseppe Mazzini
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Fathers Eyes
(by eric clapton)
Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
Thats when I need them,
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
Im like a bridge that was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fathers Eyes
I may not be every mothers dream for her little girl,
And my face may not grace the mind of everyone in the world.
But thats all right, as long as I can have one wish I pray:
When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say,
Shes got her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that find the good in things,
When good is not around;
Eyes that find the source of help,
When help just cant be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
And on that day when we will pay for all the deeds we have done,
Good and bad theyll all be had to see by everyone.
And when youre called to stand and tell just what you saw in me,
More than anything I know, I want your words to be,
She had her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that found the good in things,
When good was not around;
Eyes that found the source of help,
When help would not be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through,
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Advancing Years
And,
In my advancing years...
Those struggles I feared,
Are memories of my past.
I ask and I've kept,
That peace of mind once out of my reach.
I desire more to explore,
A life now I've allowed to teach.
Instead of a search I keep,
In continued excuses met to refuse...
A life given to me.
And one I discovered I like,
In my advancing years.
And,
In my advancing years...
Tears that once flowed,
For those I miss so much in my life.
Today,
I've come to realize my life should be lived...
And not to fight,
Against...
The acceptance of surprises.
And I should stop sitting on a fence
In those disguises to hide.
In my advancing years,
I've learned to dance...
Until the music stops.
And I'm no longer here...
To hear as clear as I do now.
With ears that will be silenced.
And I should not wait,
Or anticipate the outcome.
But I will instill adventure.
In my advancing years uncensored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My people in Khartoum
The war took my people to Khartuom
The war destroyed my people
The war destroyed their culture
The war destroyed their identity
The war lost their values and ethics
My people in Khartoum
They walk barefoot
They beg on the streets
They sleep on street
They sleep in open air
They sleep under unfinished skyscrapers
They’re chased anytime under skyscrapers
They sleep in tents of cardboards
They sleep in tents of sisal and nylon sacks
They eat leftovers from Northern dining tables
The children scavenged in dust pin
My tears drop, dropp ….dropp hundred
Times for their suffering
My mouth jeers, jeers ….jeers hundred
Times for their suffering
May my people sail on my tears home South
The war is over
Go home and build your beautiful grass houses
That don’t leak like cardboard and sack tents
Go and cultivate the land of your fathers
Leave Khartoum, leave Khartoum
Where there’re first, second and third classes
Of people
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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The Call to Ireland
We have fought so much for the nation
In the tents we helped to divide;
Shall the cause of our common fathers
On our earthstones lie denied?
For the price of a field we have wrangled
While the weather rusted the plow,
' twas yours and 'twas mine and 'tis ours yet
And it's time to be fencing it now.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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The Sister's Lullaby
You would not slumber
If laid at my breast:
You would not slumber.
The river-flood beats
The swan from her nest:
You would not slumber.
And like that quick flood
My blood goes unguessed:
You would not slumber.
Times without number
Has called the wood quest:
Times without number.
As oft as she called
To me you were pressed:
Times without number.
Now you'd not slumber
If laid at my breast
Times without number.
O starling reed-resting,
I’ll rock you to rest:
So you will slumber.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Lost in a Dream World
Lost in a Dream World
By: Adam M. Snow
What place is this, from my slumber I wake?
A mistiful world, a smell of roses flake.
I walk this world of nightmare hollow,
Dare not treasure this dreamful wallow.
The feeling is real but this world's a lie;
If I keep on living, surely I'll die.
What place is this within my slumber,
Where the sky is that of umber?
I wander through this bleary abyss,
Confused about this worldly amiss.
All my dreams and fears before me;
Out in the open for me to see.
I run but all is still;
I can't help myself be ill.
I am lost within this world of dreams;
Alone forever, in a world of gleams.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Hunters Lullaby
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Hes deep in the forest so wild
And he cannot take his wife with him
He cannot take his child
Your fathers gone a-hunting
In the quicksand and the clay
And a woman cannot follow him
Although she knows the way
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Through the silver and the glass
Where only greed can enter
But spirit, spirit cannot pass
Your fathers gone a-hunting
For the beast well never cannot bind
And he leaves a baby sleeping
And his blessings all behind
Your fathers gone a-hunting
And hes lost his lucky charm
And hes lost the guardian heart
That keeps the hunter from the harm
Your fathers gone a-hunting
He asked me to say goodbye
And he warned me not to stop him
I wouldnt, I wouldnt even try
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fathers Are The Men From Sky
Fathers, the men who are like a pen
We never can see whatever is going on inside them
But suddenly that pen is finished and then?
Fathers, the men who try hard for the pleasure of their family
They just want the less for themselves because of the comfort of their children
Looking forward to spend a day with his family in a place that is hilly
Fathers, the men who justify the wishes of their children to their own wishes
They just live to see the victory of their children and family
But their life sometimes is as short as the golden fishes
Fathers, the men who are noble, they leave their tired face out of the house's door
They came in with a happy face, but we know they are tired from inside
We know that they are sad from the core.
Fathers, the men who listen to the pain of family members
People who are powerful to solve the problems and hard conditions
But no one has the ear to understand them; they just talk with the embers
Fathers,
Warm and kind people who never bother
Fathers,
Who are unique in their way, after them there is no tother
Fathers,
Are the men who are like the kind brothers.
poem by Ellias Anderson
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Our Generation
Our generation
Our fathers' heirs,
We now inherit what they once called theirs.
The Crime, the Poverty,
The Guilt, the Hate;
But is it too late to recreate?
A time existing long ago
When our fathers made the things we now know as home.
Our generation
Our fathers' heirs,
We must now fix what they once called theirs.
The Crime, the Poverty,
The Guilt, the Hate;
But is it too late to recreate?
A people just like you and me,
Who tried to help the world so destructively.
Our generation
Our fathers' gem,
We have no choice,
We are now them.
Fathers Son
I am my fathers son
I never know when to shut up
I aint foolin no one
I am my fathers son
He raised me on his own
Love was the last thing he’s shown
But I don’t cry about him yet
I am my fathers clone
It’s 4 a.m. and I’m sneakin down
To the basement to get his last cigarette
Light it in the mirror and see my reflection
Of him, staring back at me
And I say to myself, he aint me
Thank god I’ve got my mama’s eyes
They’re what keep me inside
I aint foolin no one
I’m a mama’s boy
But I’m my fathers son
poem by Robbie Squires
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Father You, I And He
Yesterday, Today, Tummorrow
Was There I'll be here He'll be there
You gave me life, Life today I give, Tummorrow he'll be there.
You gave me love, Love I give him, Tummorrow He'll give love.
You bonded with me, Today I'm bonding, Tummorrow he'll be bonding.
You gave a home, Home I give him, Tummorrow he'll have a home.
You gave security, Security I give, Tummorrow he'll be secure.
You educate me, Education I give, Tummorrow He'll be one.
Father you were there
Yesterday
Father I am a Father
Today
Father he'll be a Father
Tummorrow
Father was a man of a man to be and a man that will be a Father.
Father the begining of creation, begining of the world.
A creation of man, men of generations generations of men to become Fathers of Fathers as seeds in a garden to harvest the world and to follow our Holy Father who was, who is, and who will always be your heavenly Father before all these Fathers are Fathers till the end of his creation of Fathers the Man.
Happy Fathers Day.
poem by sunny Munera Managan
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The Far Future
AUSTRALIA, advancing with rapid winged stride,
Shall plant among nations her banners in pride,
The yoke of dependence aside she will cast,
And build on the ruins and wrecks of the Past.
Her flag on the tempest will wave to proclaim
’Mong kingdoms and empires her national name;
The Future shall see it, asleep or unfurl’d,
The shelter of Freedom and boast of the world.
Australia, advancing like day on the sky,
Has glimmer’d thro’ darkness, will blazon on high,
A Gem in its glitter has yet to be seen,
When Progress has placed her where England has been;
When bursting those limits above she will soar,
Outstretching all rivals who’ve mounted before,
And, resting, will blaze with her glories unfurl’d,
The empire of empires and boast of the world.
Australia, advancing with Power, will entwine
With Honour and Justice a Mercy divine;
No Despot shall trample—no slave shall be bound—
Oppression must totter and fall to the ground.
The stain of all ages, tyrannical sway,
Will pass like a flash or a shadow away,
And shrink to nothing ’neath thunderbolts hurl’d
From the hand of the terror—the boast of the world.
Australia, advancing with rapid wing’d stride,
Shall plant among nations her banners in pride;
The yoke of dependence aside she will cast,
And build on the ruins and wrecks of the Past.
Her flag in the tempest will wave to proclaim,
’Mong kingdoms and empires her national name,
And Ages shall see it, asleep or unfurl’d
The shelter of Freedom and boast of the world.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Mistrust
The mistrust spread over the world
Where does it first unfurl
From what cocoon does it uncurl
Do fathers mistrust mothers
Do mothers mistrust fathers
Do fathers mistrust sons
Do mothers mistrust daughters
Do we trust our own selves
If trust is not found at home
If mistrust is the legacy of home
Then what hope have we
That trust will be
Born into this place
Love of self and self alone
Brings to us this bone of mistrust
And enfleshes to its birth.
7/5/2009
poem by Claude H Oliver II
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The Patteran
From over the leagues of ice and snow, and the miles of scorching sand;
From back of the days of long ago, and the lonely sea and land—
To the end of the world and our Gipsy race, to the death of our dark-eyed line,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine,
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine—
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given them health and strength, pure blood, clear skins for a glorious youth;
I have set in their souls contempt for sham, and a deathless regard for truth;
I have bequeathed the spirit to fight, I have given the will to rise,
And the slumbering fires of Hate and Love in their dreaming, dreaming eyes.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given the love for their native land, wherever that land may be
(My children came from the East, my friends, and round by the Northern Sea),
And a son of a son of mine enemy, to the end of his treacherous line,
Shall be stricken to earth, if he dare but speak, by a son of a son of mine.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
poem by Henry Lawson
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My satisfaction comes from my commitment to advancing a better world.
quote by Faye Wattleton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gipsy Love
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town
With a gipsy for my dear!
We'd make our bed in the bracken
With the lark for a chambermaid;
The lark would sing us awake in the morning,
Singing above our head.
We'd drink the sunlight all day long
With never a house to bind us;
And we'd only flout in a merry song
The world we left behind us.
We would be free as birds are free
The livelong day, the livelong day;
And we would lie in the sunny bracken
With none to say us nay.
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town
With a gipsy for my dear!
poem by Arthur Symons
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Suspicious Minds
Lately I've sat here afternoons
just listening to the
gluttonous newsmen argue
about fathers who kill
their wives and kids
then spirit off to Mexico.
My life's knee-deep
in fathers, embedded
in my own shaky tenor,
and though mine's as good as dead
my life still wakes up and pees.
My world's still on fire.
If I could be anywhere else
in the world, if I could be anything
but ham-handed today, I could cheer on
the vacationing comedian
who finds one this morning
hidden in a hut.
I could be vindicated.
What I mean is all this father-surrendering
gets me tired,
that it's getting old,
that it's the most difficult part of my day.
Submitted by da
poem by Daniel Nester
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Dreams Of Our Fathers
Oh, Im choking, Im choking
On the smoke from this burning house
I claw and I scrape
But I cant seem to get out
But who then, who is this
Thats scratching from the ground
Oh, its my world, too
But whose gold is this Im digging out?
When we go, where we go
When were dead
Is the verdict still out?
Do we get into line
To line up with those long dead now?
With the muffled tears of sorrow
Bones underground
Is this time our time?
Yes, it is
Without or with this shadow of doubt
I dont want to wake up
Lost in the dreams of our fathers
Oh, its such a waste child
To live and die for the dreams of our fathers
Though I must confess, yes
My view is a wonder about this
This love I possess, love
Must be the dreams of our fathers
I wanna go, I wanna run
We turn, so sure someones looking down
Its haunting me, haunting me
Leaves us here to get out
Though I dont believe, I dont believe
This flavor in my mouth
Is from my tongue alone
So bitter I wanna spit it out
I repeat these words
They come out
Under the blue light in the sky
My empty pages are filling up
With these wicked lies
But I hear deep in myself
An echo, an echo
Of empty, empty emptiness
Comes up and swells inside
I dont want to wake up
Lost in the dreams of our fathers
Oh, its such a waste child
To live and die for the dreams of our fathers
Though I must confess, yes
My view is a wonder about this
This love I possess, love
It must be the dreams of our fathers
Rain on my head
Rain on my head
Rain on me
And then give me air
Rain on my love
Again and again
Why cant I dream you away from me?
Look here, look here
Bloated, floating
Go belly down
Belly up in the water
But who is this here thats drowned?
We followed a drunken man
He got us all spinning round
But its like he swallowed himself
And didnt leave us a way out
I dont want to wake up
Lost in the dreams of our fathers
Oh, its such a shame child
To live and die for the dreams of our fathers
Though I must confess, yes
My view is a wonder about this
This love I possess, love
It must be the dreams of our fathers
This love I possess, love
It must be the dreams of our fathers
This love I possess, love
It must be the dreams of our fathers
This love I possess, love
It must be the love of our fathers
The dreams
The dreams
The dreams
This love I possess love
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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i know a world(Africa)
i know a world
A wondrous world
sweet home of hunting songs
And rolling drums
It is africa
I know of a world
A whispering world
Filled with dying love
Of ancient day
It is africa
i know a world
Awaking world
rising now and eresh erom agelong slumber
strong after rest.
poem by Ogunleye Kayode Peter
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