The Dedicated Fundraiser
In every town across the land
We find him holding out his hand -
Collecting funds for charity
From folks like you... and folks like me!
He stands there waiting, rain or shine,
Hoping we will not decline
The needs of those that he holds dear -
For whom he chose to volunteer!
They may be starving refugees!
His conscience hears their earnest pleas!
They may be blind, deaf, dumb or lame!
Their plight is now his sacred aim!
They may be helpless, quite forlorn!
A noble cause has just been born...
A flood or earthquake, who can say! ?
And yet, through him, help's on its way!
But only if he stands and waits,
Upon the Council's licenced dates,
For many seek to raise funds, too...
From folks like me... and folks like you!
It's up to us to contribute -
To play the saint or stay the brute!
Donate a pound or walk on by,
Not asking who or what or why...
He simply stands in silent hope
To save some lives... help victims cope...
So, think again! Don't hurry past!
This chance to help may be the last!
It's up to us to show we care...
Just like the man who's standing there...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Folks Lives Roll Easy
Words & music by paul simon
Some folks lives roll easy as a breeze
Drifting through a summer night
Heading for a sunny day
But most folks lives, oh they stumble
Lord they fall
Through no fault of their own
Most folks never catch their stars
And here I am, lord
Im knocking at your place of business
I know I aint got no business here
But you said if I ever got so low
I was busted,
You could be trusted
Some folks lives roll easy
Some folks lives
Never roll at all
Oh, they just fall
They just fall
Some folks lives
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Folks Are Just Folks!
black folks just like white folks,
gotta eat, sleep, need somewhere
to stay, need a job...
just want to be treated like people,
equal in every way....
and my Hispanic neighbors,
hard working, working together,
(we could learn from that!)
taking care of families...
human beings with human needs,
just like us....
Asians, Native Americans...
all just the same....
all of us just people....
want to be treated that way!
folks are just folks!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Folks
Some folks
Love to see red
Some folks
Never talk about it
Some folks
Crave a blue lady
Some folks
Know and still they doubt it
I'm just no good without it
I'm not a man at all
It makes my skin crawl
Baby, baby
Come on and save me, save me
My, my baby, baby,
Come on and save me now
Some folks
Love to feel pain
Some folks
Wake up every mornin'
Some folks
Live for no reason
Some folks
Die without a warning
I'm just no good without it
I'm not a man at all
It makes my skin crawl
Baby, baby
Come on and save me, save me
My, my baby, baby,
Come on and save me, save me
My, my baby, baby
Come on and save me now
I can't live without it
I just can't live without it
I don't wanna think about it
I'm just no good without it
I'm not a man at all
It makes my skin crawl
Baby, baby
Come on and save me, save me
My, my baby, baby,
Come on and save me, save me
My, my baby, baby
Come on and save me, save me,
My, my baby, baby
Come on and save me, save me
I can't live without it
I just can't live without it
I don't wanna think about it
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Nothing Is Done
Do you get the feeling,
That it doesn't matter who says what...
About anyone or anything anymore.
This seems especially true...
In small towns with nohing but gossip,
For folks to value.
The more things change...
The less those who desperately need to change,
Do!
Even in big cities,
There are small minded folks!
And...
The mindsets of small town folks,
Will be guaranteed to be left reliably...
Small minded and uninvolved.
But yet upset with 'them'
Because 'they' don't 'act' like they care,
About their problems.
Those who sit on stoops...
And/or push baby carriages,
Around the blocks where their babies fathers,
Stand.
Seeking tips on good luck,
To dropp in their pockets!
They have suffered from under the rug swept stuff...
These folks!
With claims to have problems...
That have been historically ignored,
By those praying to God for solutions.
And when they come...
They don't like what has to be done!
So nothing is...
Done!
It just decays!
And folks find ways to celebrated it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some folks rail against other folks, because other folks have what some folks would be glad of.
quote by Henry Fielding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fortunate Son
Some folks are born
Made to wave that flag
Ooh that red, white 'n blue
And when they play
'Hail to the Cheif'
Ooh they point the cannon at you, lord
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, no
Some folks are born
Silver spoon in hand
Lord don't they help themselves?
And when the taxman
Knocks on their door
Ooh the house looks like a rummage sale, yeah
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no millionaires son, no, no
Some folks are born
Starspangled eyes
Ooh they send you out to war
And when Australia asks
'How much do we get?'
Ooh they just ask for more and more and more and more and more and...
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no millionaires son, no
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, one, one
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no CIA son, no
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate son, son, son
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Up In the Projects
You want to know what it's like,
To grow up in the projects?
Being different and taking risks?
'Can't be that bad! '
Follow me.
'Where are we going? '
Up to the roof.
'To the roof? '
Yeah.
I want to show you something from my point of view.
Now...
Turnaround.
Put your hands behind your back.
'Why? '
I'm going to tie your hands behind your back.
Then I'm going to blindfold you before I leave you alone.
'But...
I might fall off the roof.
Aren't you concerned about that? '
You'll learn to adjust.
If you want to survive.
And...
If you can not get up from a fall?
Maybe you were too blind not to pay attention.
Some steps some folks shouldn't take.
Listening and observation is key.
Common sense is precious.
You be surprise how many lessons one learns,
Growing up in the projects.
'But my hands are tied.
And I can't see.'
I use to hear that all the time!
~Boy! Can't you see my hands are tied?
I can't see where the next dime is coming from.
And all I get from you is lip! ~
Note:
Not too many folks I knew who grew up
in the projects became victims from the experience.
In fact, most of the folks became very successful people.
But...that was a time when expectations were high.
And many years ago when folks chose to have 'some' identity
and dignity connected to the 'self' and a growth process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(You Never Can Tell) C'est Lavie
(Chuck Berry)
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished them well
You could see that Pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to slow you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room Roebuck sale
The coolerator was crammed
With T.V. dimmers and ginger ale
But when Pierre found work
The little money comin' worked out well
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rockin' rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
they bought a souped-up jitney
T'was a cherry-red fifty nine
They drove it down to New Orleans
To celebrate their anniversary
It was there that Pierre
Was wedded to the lovely mad'moiselle
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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C'est La Vie
(chuck berry)
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished them well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to slow you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room roebuck sale
The coolerator was crammed
With t.v. dimmers and ginger ale
But when pierre found work
The little money comin' worked out well
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rockin' rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
They bought a souped-up jitney
T'was a cherry-red fifty nine
They drove it down to new orleans
To celebrate their anniversary
It was there that pierre
Was wedded to the lovely mad'moiselle
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Croassroads
All you folks think you own my life
But you never made any sacrifice
Demons they are on my trail
Im standing at the crossroads of the hell
I look to the left I look to the right
Therere hands that grab me on every side
All you folks think I got my price
At which Ill sell all that is mine
You think money rules when all else fails
Go sell your soul and keep your shell
Im trying to protect what I keep inside
All the reasons why I live my life
Some say the devil be a mystical thing
I say the devil he a walking man
He a fool he a liar conjurer and a thief
He try to tell you what you want
Try to tell you what you need
Standing at the point
The road it cross you down
What is at your back
Which way do you turn
Who will come to find you first
Your devils or your gods
All you folks think you run my life
Say I should be willing to comprimise
I say all you demons go back to hell
Ill save my soul save myself
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crossroads
All you folks think you own my life
But you never made any sacrifice
Demons they are on my trail
Im standing at the crossroads of the hell
I look to the left I look to the right
Therere hands that grab me on every side
All you folks think I got my price
At which Ill sell all that is mine
You think money rules when all else fails
Go sell your soul and keep your shell
Im trying to protect what I keep inside
All the reasons why I live my life
Some say the devil be a mystical thing
I say the devil he a walking man
He a fool he a liar conjurer and a thief
He try to tell you what you want
Try to tell you what you need
Standing at the point
The road it cross you down
What is at your back
Which way do you turn
Who will come to find you first
Your devils or your gods
All you folks think you run my life
Say I should be willing to compromise
I say all you demons go back to hell
Ill save my soul save myself
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Never Can Tell
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle.
And the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room roebuck sale
The coolerator was filled
With t.v. dinners and ginger ale
But when pierre found work,
The little money comin worked out well
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy, did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rock, rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They bought a souped up jitney
twas a cherry in fifty-three
They drove it down to new orleans
To celebrate their anniversary.
It was there where pierre was wedded
To the lovely mademoiselle,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle.
And the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fortunate Son
Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Ooh, they're red, white, and blue
And when the band plays hail to the chief
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no senator's son, son, son
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, no
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves now
And when the tax man comes to the door
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no millionaire's son, son, son
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, no, no
Some folks inherit star-spangled eyes
Ooh, they send you down to war
And when you ask 'em how much should we give
Ooh, they only answer more, more, more, more
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no military son, son, son
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, one, one
It ain't me
It ain't me
I ain't no fortunate son, son, son
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Delicious Chocolate Cove
Now these folks know how to live
I wish I’d been there when
Chocolate poured from a fountain
With the perfect kind of blend
Yes, delicious little morsels
You can poke right on a stick
All you have to do, my friend
Is submerge whatever you pick
Strawberries so fresh and juicy
Pineapple so sweet as well
They’d slide them very carefully
Under chocolate as it fell
No matter what the occasion
These folks know how to eat
Long wonderful tables of food
Anything you might seek
They find a way to celebrate
Oh, they are so good
I wish I lived amongst them
Right in their neighborhood
So if you get a chance folks
As down the roads you rove
Stop in to meet a place I call
The Delicious Chocolate Cove!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fowl
A noble lesson this should teach,
Dear children unto you.
If other people's goods you reach,
Of rectitude 'twill be a breach,
Or parsons will your virtues preach,
According to the point of view,
Or to the kind of folks you 'do'.
You steal a chicken off a fence
With wrath the pious shake,
Although you say with eloquence
The owner used it ill, and hence
You kindly sought to recompense
The bird for troubles past, and make
It happier, for Heaven's sake.
But if you are a statesman grand,
And ships and armies raise,
To steel some feeble niggers' land,
To make its folks a Christian band,
To take their moral weal in hand
The Empire echoes with your praise,
And churches bless you all your days.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indoctrinated Through Ancestry
They are here in droves...
Those me-me-I-I folks.
The ones who have been told they are attractive.
Those with slave mentalities,
And still trying to please their masters.
And I can not say how many folks there are...
Who are afraid to express too much 'identity'.
For fear they will upset someone else's wishes!
And they know what on me they can kiss!
Anyone who has a mind like this!
I'm not having none of it.
There is an addicted sickness inflicted.
Alive and well.
And profiting the few,
Who have so many messed up in their heads!
The more pretentious the folks...
One can find them driven to play charades,
On all coasts.
Wherever they are found 'coasting' and cruising!
It just seems that way.
Those on escapades and away from their identities.
And ready to please.
As if indoctrinated through ancestry!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slow Folks
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
The slow folks...
Would like to borrow buttered biscuits,
And then lick 'em...
Like their crackin' on dope!
Those slow folks...
Can getchu outta line!
Those slow folks...
I've seen that all the time!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
Oh,
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
The slow folks...
Would like to borrow buttered biscuits,
And then lick 'em...
Like their crackin' on dope!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
By those slow folks...
A butt end of a joke.
By those slow folks.
Provoked or demoted,
By those slow folks.
Or turn into a joke!
By those slow folks.
They can getchu outta line!
Those slow folks...
I've seen that all the time!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
Those slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Put a Sock In It
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Many getting sick of the pickiness started.
And when it gets sticky they can not stop.
Instigating agitation with annoyance.
Dropping all they've got to tie a mind in knots.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Can't you see them strike poses and begin to 'cheese'.
Then plop on their knees,
To make their pleas.
These same folks cry about bad luck.
With claims their butts are stuck in ruts.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
And fed up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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