The first funeral for Andrew Goodman was at night and it was a lot of work. To begin with they had to kill him.
quote by Jimmy Breslin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
A people must have dignity and identity.
quote by Andrew Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whoever moves into a community has a vested interest in it.
quote by Andrew Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The road to freedom must be uphill, even if it is arduous and frustrating.
quote by Andrew Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To My Bartender
Night after night
You serve me
Pint after pint
You greet me with a smile
And I stay for awhile
As lines start to blur
And my words begin to slur
Feeling start to stir
I begin to wonder what you look like under your dress
And how your skin would feel to caress
And if maybe,
Maybe you would dance with me in the yellow moonlight
On this starless night
As clouds drift by and I drift into you
As one we would be
But alas,
I see the bottom of my glass
You ask me if I want another
I can think of none other
I’d like to see night after night
This is to you, my bartender
poem by Andrew Carson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After the Funeral
After the funeral
The sun goes down-
Night will soon begin
A long night
And no other day tomorrow.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night Funeral in Harlem
Night funeral
In Harlem:
Where did they get
Them two fine cars?
Insurance man, he did not pay--
His insurance lapsed the other day--
Yet they got a satin box
for his head to lay.
Night funeral
In Harlem:
Who was it sent
That wreath of flowers?
Them flowers came
from that poor boy's friends--
They'll want flowers, too,
When they meet their ends.
Night funeral
in Harlem:
Who preached that
Black boy to his grave?
Old preacher man
Preached that boy away--
Charged Five Dollars
His girl friend had to pay.
Night funeral
In Harlem:
When it was all over
And the lid shut on his head
and the organ had done played
and the last prayers been said
and six pallbearers
Carried him out for dead
And off down Lenox Avenue
That long black hearse done sped,
The street light
At his corner
Shined just like a tear--
That boy that they was mournin'
Was so dear, so dear
To them folks that brought the flowers,
To that girl who paid the preacher man--
It was all their tears that made
That poor boy's
Funeral grand.
Night funeral
In Harlem.
poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Andrew M’Crie
from the unpublished remains of Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a city by the sea,
That a man there lived whom I happened to know
By the name of Andrew M'Crie;
And this man he slept in another room,
But ground and had meals with me.
I was an ass and he was an ass,
In this city by the sea;
But we ground in a way which was more than a grind,
I and Andrew M'Crie;
In a way that the idle semis next door
Declared was shameful to see.
And this was the reason that, one dark night,
In this city by the sea,
A stone flew in at the window, hitting
The milk-jug and Andrew M'Crie.
And once some low-bred tertians came,
And bore him away from me,
And shoved him into a private house
Where the people were having tea.
Professors, not half so well up in their work,
Went envying him and me—
Yes!—that was the reason, I always thought
(And Andrew agreed with me),
Why they ploughed us both at the end of the year,
Chilling and killing poor Andrew M'Crie.
But his ghost is more terrible far than the ghosts
Of many more famous than he—
Of many more gory than he—
And neither visits to foreign coasts,
Nor tonics, can ever set free
Two well-known Profs from the haunting wraith
Of the injured Andrew M'Crie.
For at night, as they dream, they frequently scream,
'Have mercy, Mr. M'Crie!'
And at morn they will rise with bloodshot eyes,
And the very first thing they will see,
When they dare to descend to their coffee and rolls,
Sitting down by the scuttle, the scuttle of coals,
With a volume of notes on its knee,
Is the spectre of Andrew M'Crie.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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The Night Cometh
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man's work is done.
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man works no more.
Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,--
Night, when man's work is o'er.
poem by Annie Louisa Walker
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His Funeral Is Mine
He is just a young man,
With little knowledge of his own future.
Little did he know,
His funeral was coming in days time.
Years have passed him by,
And little did I know,
I fell in love with him,
He fell in love with me.
Little did we both know,
Too little.
I figured out from his unhappiness,
His marriage was the day of his funeral.
I know the right thing to do is to stay away from him,
But he's too charming,
He has me locked in his magic spell,
His funeral has become mine.
As I fall asleep each night,
I remember the minutes in his presence,
As I know he is spending the night
With his wife..
poem by Petra Tawfik
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The current neglect of the problem can only irritate this deplorable state of affairs. The Black Muslims should constitute a warning to our society, a warning that must be heeded if we are to preserve the society.
quote by Andrew Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost in the Cycle
Work work work work, work work work work, work work work work
STOP
and
do
nothing
'cause there is nothing to do
even though there is always something to do
but why would you do that?
Stay up
No sleep
Go to sleep
Peace
Except not
Because the brain still says 'Go! '
When you say
'No!
Rest! '
No Rest
Come back to consciousness?
You never left,
did you?
Begin repeat
poem by Jessica Cummings
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Job for McGuinness
Oh, it's dreadful to think in a country like this
With its chances for work - and enjoyment
That a man like McGuinness was certain to miss
Whenever he tried for employment.
He wrote to employers from Bondi to Bourke,
From Woolloomooloo to Glen Innes,
But he found - though his wife could get plenty of work -
There was never a job for McGuinness.
But perhaps - later on - when the Chow and the Jap
Begin to drift down from the tropics,
When a big yellow stain spreading over the map
Provides some disquieting topics,
Oh, it's then when they're wanting a man that will stand
In the trench where his own kith and kin is,
With a frown on his face and a gun in his hand -
Then there might be a job for McGuinness!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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If you want to direct, you've got to work.
quote by John Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lap Of Luxury
I work all day and I work all night 4x
I work all day and I work all night
I work so my wife and kids will have a pleasant life
I work as many jobs as I can
Im proud to work I guess Im just a working man
-who am I to complain
I live in the lap of luxury
I got a car and a big tv thats so fine
I go to the pictures when I can
-the pictures take me to far-away lands
-almost makes me forget who I am
Sometimes at work Ive a fantasy
That Im a man who livesa life of mystery
(but) then the whistle brings me to
I cant forget why Im here, Ive got a job to do
-responsibility- is much more important to a man like me
I work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night - etc. etc.
Guitar solo
I got a job at the factory
But I dont mind cause I know that the job is right for me
I dont complain Im satisfied
And I dont care to rub elbows with the wealthy
Theyve got their problems too, I dont envy them a bit dont ya know
Im doin what I want and it aint so bas
Ive got everything that a man could have
(Im) living in the lap of luxury - living in the lap of luxury
Work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night etc. etc.
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After you've done all the work and prepared as much as you can, what the hell, you might as well go out and have a good time.
quote by Benny Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mower to the Glow-Worms
Ye living lamps, by whose dear light
The nightingale does sit so late,
And studying all the summer night,
Her matchless songs does meditate;
Ye county comets, that portend
No war nor prince's funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the grass's fall;
Ye glow-worms, whose officious flame
To wand'ring mowers shows the way,
That in the night have lost their aim,
And after foolish fires do stray;
Your courteous lights in vain you waste,
Since Juliana here is come,
For she my mind hath so displac'd
That I shall never find my home.
poem by Andrew Marvell
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At Our Funeral
Have you been to a funeral yet, after The Lord you have met?
A special funeral for all of us, who have come to Christ Jesus,
A funeral of your independence, as your heart, to God relents,
When indeed, you die to self, now alive in The Savior’s wealth.
Even though we died, we live, so now our life to God we give,
Earthly desires are all we lose, in accepting God’s good news,
Thus being saved by Jesus Christ, we give Him our earthly life,
Since He died for us at Calvary, to let our captive heart go free.
So believers are now free to die, for Jesus who reigns on high,
Yes free to die to our old ways, as we live out our earthly days,
Living without what we don’t need, as God’s Word we do heed,
While living for a future friend, which when it comes has no end.
The life with God, we now begin, guides us away from dark sin,
We die to sin so we can start, a brand new life with a new heart,
A new heart which now is purified, by the One, Who for us died,
Christ died to cleanse you and me, all with His blood at Calvary.
At this funeral that you attend, it’s just a beginning, not the end,
As you begin life brand new, with The Lord, to see you through,
With The Savior by your side, for He now lives, though He died,
With death swallowed up in victory, believers shall live Eternally.
I regard this novel as a work without redeeming social value, unless it can be recycled as a cardboard box.
quote by Ellen Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silent Sunlight
Silent sunlight, welcome in
There is work I must now begin
All my dreams have blown away
And the children want to play
Theyll soon remember things to do
When the heart is young
And the night is done
And the sky is blue
Morning songbird, sing away
Lend a tune to another day
Bring your wings and choose a roof
Sing a song of love and truth
Well soon remember if you do
When all things were tall
And our friends were small
And the world was new
Sleepy horses, heave away
Put your backs to the golden hay
Dont ever look behind at the work youve done
For your work has just begun
Therell be the evening in the end
But till that time arrives
You can rest your eyes
And begin again
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is Always Difficult To Begin The Week
IT IS ALWAYS DIFFICULT TO BEGIN THE WEEK
It is always difficult to begin the week
One's body is lost in a previous sleep
One's mind is still held down and back
Into resting -
The world is bleak
It is empty and difficult
I am empty inside
I have nothing to do
I have too much to do-
Still I must begin
I will do the usual routine assignments
Slowly I will get back into the motion and mind of my work
I am already trying now-
Even a small effort should bring forth suggestions for further effort
It will take time
Slowly I will find the way
From task to task
Into the real work -
Somehow the week will begin again
It always does-
Though now I am still slow and not there yet
I feel as if in writing this
I have somehow already begun to work again-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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