Coal Bins
Chicago, the South Side,
long before Barack Obama
those I'd love see live
anywhere they like
are those so black
they up long planks
in the heat of summer
wheelbarrow coal
so bright it pours
in a silver seiche
down chutes
through windows
of bungalow basements
crashing in coal bins
of new masters
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Related quotes
Barack Obama
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Change, you must the world;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
But do you have the gold?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
People need more jobs;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
You must stop their sobs.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Wars are just futile;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Let peace remain awhile.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Prices must be cut;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
None can live in hut.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Energy is prime;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Work in any clime.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Pollution must stop;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Make a friendlier cop.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Should the unborn die?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Live, they shouldn’t but why?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Change is what you need;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Pluck away the weed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-18-2009
poem by John Celes
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Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Diamond Or A Coal?
A diamond or a coal?
A diamond, if you please:
Who cares about a clumsy coal
Beneath the summer trees?
A diamond or a coal?
A coal, sir, if you please:
One comes to care about the coal
What time the waters freeze.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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King Death
King Death was a rare old fellow!
He sate where no sun could shine;
And he lifted his hand so yellow,
And poured out his coal-black wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
There came to him many a Maiden,
Whose eyes had forgot to shine;
And Widows, with grief o'erladen,
For a draught of his sleepy wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
The Scholar left all his learning;
The Poet his fancied woes;
And the Beauty her bloom returning,
Like life to the fading rose.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
All came to the royal old fellow,
Who laugh'd till his eyes dropped brine,
As he gave them his hand so yellow,
And pledged them in Death's black wine.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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Bungalow
Bungalow
Bungalow
By the sea
Bungalow
In the sea air
Climbing rose
Time to spare
Luxury accommodation traps the sun
So were working every hour that God made
So we can fly away
Saving it all up for you
Bungalow
Bungalow
Silver shore line
In the gorse
You can be mine
Standing prime position for the town
Working for this vision through our lives
So we can fly away
Saving it all up for you
Bungalow
Bungalow
You wait and see
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat Of Summer, Heated Love.
Summer's heat can swelter and melt...
As summer's heat may simmer as weld.
Some summer's heat can burn as long...
This summer's heat can impel a song.
Summer's heat can cook and bake...
Summer's heat of life can take.
Boil and broil a heart so hot...
A summer's heat can break that romanceful knot.
This heat of summer can smoulder and rot.
Anger's heat, heats up my libido's furnace...
This love of summer can invoke to heart, a loving furnish.
Love of summer brings to mind, a resurgance of love...
Summer's sun may bathe one and all with heat fro' above.
Summer's heat can bring to beaches and swimming pools...
Visions of women in bikinied thongs, these things my eyes do love.
poem by Michael Gale
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Barack Hussein Obama II
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Being one of his father's children among the four wives and,
A vision came to him to achieve the best of life with dreams;
Right from the beginning of things to fulfil his ambitions and,
As the right person to stand for the U.S Presidential race.
Care was given to him from every angle to push him up like,
Kenya where his father came from.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Here in Berlin with the advantage of his reputations and,
Using the opportunities in the U.S.A. like his father had;
Showing how great it is to share without racism and religion like,
Sunflowers in a sweet green field with the smell of an aroma:
Emitting with positive words to call us all together as one.
In the U.S.A. to reach out to the world with love and,
Now that he is running for the presidential seat.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Obama has made a name in this world so sweet,
Being rated among the best to bring us together;
Along the lines of war, hatred and peace like,
Masters of the act of flying to reach a place:
A memory of his visit will sit many down to think.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Further, the United States is moving ahead in the development of clean coal technology. There are vast coal reserves in our country, and when it is burned cleanly, coal can provide a resource to supply a large amount of our energy requirements.
quote by Virgil Goode
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Train Running Low On Soul Coal
Me train running low on soul coal
They push+pull tactics are driving me loco
They shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Me train running low on dream steam
They pull me whistle too hard me bound to scream
And they shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going mad in this hinterland
Between young and old
Im a thirty year old puppy doing what Im told
And Im told theres no more coal
For the older engines
Me train running low on soul coal
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going west and my sprinters speed
Is reduced to a crawl
My rails went straight, but straight into the wall
Its the wall on which they dash the older engines
And all my servants are leaving
Imagination gone packing
Cant find the wound from where Im bleeding
Hes just a nut and hes cracking
Hammer goes down
Brakes all scream
Me and a couple of empty carriages
Slide down hill still
Next stop bad dreamsville
Think Im going south for the winter
Me train running low on soul coal.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Train Running Low On Soul Coal
Me train running low on soul coal
They push+pull tactics are driving me loco
They shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Me train running low on dream steam
They pull me whistle too hard me bound to scream
And they shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going mad in this hinterland
Between young and old
Im a thirty year old puppy doing what Im told
And Im told theres no more coal
For the older engines
Me train running low on soul coal
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going west and my sprinters speed
Is reduced to a crawl
My rails went straight, but straight into the wall
Its the wall on which they dash the older engines
And all my servants are leaving
Imagination gone packing
Cant find the wound from where Im bleeding
Hes just a nut and hes cracking
Hammer goes down
Brakes all scream
Me and a couple of empty carriages
Slide down hill still
Next stop bad dreamsville
Think Im going south for the winter
Me train running low on soul coal.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is There Incest in the Obama Family?
It's Saturday Night Live.....
I mean come on. It’s Chicago’s South side.
Admittedly, there is no evidence of that,
but on the other hand,
there is no convincing evidence
to the contrary and this is just one
of the lingering questions
about Senator Barrack Obama….
poem by Ted Sheridan
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Beat It On Down The Line
Well this job Ive got is just a little too hard,
Running out of money, lord, I need more pay.
Gonna wake up in the morning lord, gonna pack my bags,
Im gonna beat it on down the line.
Im goin down the line, goin down the line,
Goin down the line, goin down the line,
Goin down the line, goin down the line,
Beat it on down the line.
Yes Ill be waiting at the station lord, when that train pulls on by,
Im going back where I belong.
Im going back to that same old used-to-be,
Down in joe browns coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Down in joe browns coal mine.
Yeah, Im goin back to that shack way across that railroad track,
Uh huh, thats where I think I belong.
And thats where Im gonna make my happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Thats where Im gonna make my happy home.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Break
I long to be with you
But summer has built a barrier between us.
I use to wait for summer to come and free me
But now I search of a hammer to break down its walls.
Summer’s walls, however, have not the ability to stand for long
If I can endure the struggle to tear them down
My strength shall come from the memories
We’ve shared and my thoughts of what God has in store for us.
My sweat from summer’s heat shall symbolize my love for you
As it pours off my brow
And the blisters that wear on my hands
Will remind me of my fear of not seeing you again.
So that I might work even harder to overcome Summer’s
Obstacle and hold you in my aching arms.
poem by Richard Noggin
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Identity of Images (Identité des images)
I am fighting furiously with animals and bottles
In a short time perhaps ten hours have passed one
after another
The beautiful swimmer who was afraid of coral wakes
this morning
Coral crowned with holly knocks on her door
Ah! coal again always coal
I conjure you coal tutelary genius of dreams and my
solitude let me let me speak again of the beautiful
swimmer who was afraid of coral
No longer tyrannize this seductive subject of my
dreams
The beautiful swimmer was reposing in a bed of lace
and birds
The clothes on a chair at the foot of the bed were
illuminated by gleams the last gleams of coal
The one that had come from the depths of the sky and
earth and sea was proud of its coral beak and great
wings of crape
All night long it had followed divergent funerals toward
suburban cemeteries
It had been to embassy balls marked white satin gowns with
its imprint a fern leaf
It had risen terribly before ships and the ships had not
returned
Now crouched in the chimney it was watching for the
waking of foam and singing of kettles
Its resounding step had disturbed the silence of nights
in streets with sonorous pavements
Sonorous coal coal master of dreams coal
Ah tell me where is that beautiful swimmer the swimmer
who was afraid of coral?
But the swimmer herself has gone back to sleep
And I remain face to face with the fire and shall remain
through the night interrogating the coal with wings of
darkness that persists in projecting on my monotonous
road the shadow of its smoke and the terrible
reflections of its embers
Sonorous coal coal pitiless coal
poem by Robert Desnos
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The coal industry has helped fuel this Nation for 150 years, and coal can be used to heat our homes, power our economy, and protect our Nation for at least another 150 years if we continue to use it.
quote by Tim Murphy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nine Pound Hammer
This nine pound hammer
Is a little too heavy
Buddy for my size
Buddy for my size
So Im going on the mountain
Just to see my baby
And I aint coming back
No I aint coming back
Chorus:
Roll on buddy
Dont you roll so slow
Well, tell me how can I roll
When the wheels wont go
Roll on buddy
Pull you load of coal
Tell me how can I pull
When the wheels wont roll
Its a long way to harlan
Its a long way to hazard
Just to get a little brew
Just to get a little brew
And when Im long gone
You can make my tombstone
Out of number nine coal
Out of number nine coal
Repeat chorus:
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes, Money grows on trees
Yes money grows on tress
Plant the tree of labour
Plant the tree of honesty
Plant the tree of integrity
And you go for reaping money
Use local economy and local people
Both in wholesale and in retail
In gold tree you can reap gold
And in Coal tree you must reap coal
Going with coal you look black
And Black will take no other hues.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Al Qaeda is still a threat. We cannot pretend somehow that because Barack Hussein Obama got elected as president, suddenly everything is going to be OK.
quote by Barack Obama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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