As My Children....
i watched the old woman die,
and listened to her last breaths...
and all i could see was a small child,
offering me the feather of a sparrow.
i walked down to the creek and listened,
and heard the voices of a thousand years.
none were near, yet none were far,
i could feel them press against my skin.
do we come and go,
or is that just an illusion?
i think we just are,
yet we are not we....
by the way i named each of her breaths,
and raised them as my children!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
Short of Breath
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
my breathing’s weak and my chest is sore.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I have to breathe deeply at a slower rate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
I’m four breaths closer than I was before.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
my mouth’s wide open, but I can’t inflate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
it’ll be the end when I breathe no more.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I’m sure someone's rattling heaven's gate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
well that’s it, I can't count no more.
poem by Orlando Belo
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I should have listened to God
I should have listened to God
When he said that it would end
I should have listened to God
And been just friends
I should have listened to God
Before it was too late
I should have listened to God
But now I deal with fate
I should have listened to God
That it would break my heart
I should have listened to God
That it would fall apart
I should have listened to God
Because he loves me in everyway
I should have listened to God
And all that he had to say
I should have listened to God
And show what he made me to be
I should have listened to God
But I know he has forgiven me!
I Listened To The Learned Cosmologist
I LISTENED TO THE LEARNED COSMOLOGIST
I listened to the learned cosmologist
Explain how we are not really the center of anything-
Not Space not Time not even our own special creation on earth-
I listened to the learned cosmologist
Tell us we live in an obscure corner of the Galaxy
Just one small circling clod of a humdrum sun -
I listened to him tell us we should learn to be humble
For we are not the leader or the ruler or the purpose
Of the world.
I listened to the learned cosmologist
And I wondered why the love of a few on this earth
Makes me feel there is home and happiness
Special blessing in my life -
I wondered why what will be at the end of the end of the end
Seems to mean so much less to me
Than what will be in the brief time I am here-
I listened to the learned cosmologist-
And knew somewhere in me and on this earth and in this universe
There are other worlds
Than the ones he is describing
And we to each and every one we love are
More than all the suns and the distances
However small and insignificant we ultimately be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Should Have Listened To Me
(tim hunt/steve bogard/rick giles)
(track 4 - time 3:30)
When you told me you needed a little time on your own
I kinda lied and said Id be alright all alone
My friends said hey man what can you do
Let her see whats missing and shell come back to you
They all said it was for the best
But I knew as I watched you leave
I shouldve listened to me, and gotten down on my knees
I heard the words in my heart, dont tear us apart
Come back baby please
I shouldve swallowed my pride, I shouldve broke down and cried
I was the one who knew that you and I were meant to be
I shouldve listened to me
Call it intuition, an instinctual feeling
When you know you bet it all and your gonna lose everything
Thats what I had when you walked out the door
And as each day passes Im feeling it more and more
Now that Im hear its all so clear
How could I have made you see
I shouldve listened to me, and gotten down on my knees
I heard the words in my heart, dont tear us apart
Come back baby please
I shouldve swallowed my pride, I shouldve broke down and cried
I was the one who knew that you and I were meant to be
I shouldve listened
I shouldve listened to me, and gotten down on my knees
I heard the words in my heart, dont tear us apart
Come back baby please
I shouldve swallowed my pride, I shouldve broke down and cried
I was the one who knew that you and I were meant to be
I shouldve listened to me
I shouldve listened to me
song performed by by Yankee Grey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Meant To Be
Thoughts are born,
yet die thereafter,
nothing more satisfying,
than that of solemn touches of death...
a child,
a cursed blessing,
A mother,
A whored Vessel,
no child into bringing,
destroyed and defiled.
Never meant to be,
Left to finish what was started,
Braving the cold,
a womb-less warmth,
lost to life’s virginity,
seconds of breaths,
left it dying,
moments so short,
yet extended toward eternity,
An infant child,
besmirched and left thoughtless,
A child only born to be named death,
Reaping the benifites of final breaths.
poem by Crimson Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Only Voices I hear Are On The Inside
I was born not being able to hear
Born not hearing my mother tell me I'm dear
Born never listening to anyone who spoke to me
Born not enjoying music
Born without the ability to gauge sound, unable to hear the clock tick
But since the day I was born
Since before I could talk, I could scorn
There was one thing I always did hate
And that was the thing deepest inside of me,
The thing for which I cursed fate
Worse than deafness or being unable to see
Since the day I was born I heard voices
Not when loved ones talked, but voices that weren't my choice
To hear, voices that were inside my head
Voices that nobody else heard, but I didn't know if they were lying
Because my hearing has always been dead
I'd hear screeching or dying
When none was there
Those voices they'd tell me what to do and how could I deny them?
They were, they are, and they will be the only ones who care
Because they're the only one that speak to me, I can't find the sin
That I committed to be born like this, to be born broken
I've heard more conversations than any other man
And yet I've never heard man utter a word, through my whole lifespan
The only voices I hear are on the inside
And it's the greatest torment that I hide
They'll just tell me I'm crazy, well in writing
But these voices, they accept me, they sing
These voices they know because they've talked to me
These voices are the only I've ever known the
The first voices I've ever heard
Like a mother, I've never listened to a singing bird
But I've listened to a cacophonous symphony of arguing inside my head
These voices are like the woman I did not choose, but wed
I can't separate myself from them
The only time I hear anything, it's torment to condemn
Me, it's funny that I could never speak to anyone but myself
But I guess I've never, ever, been lonely... not ever.
I
Have
Never
Been
Alone
W ho could save me from myselves?
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Shouldve Listened
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED WHEN MY MOM SHOWED ME RIGHT FROM WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE SAID BEING IN THE STREETS ALL NIGHT LONG WAS WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE TOLD ME THA TI WAS IN THE WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE WAS ONLY TRYING TO KEEP ME SAFE
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO ALL THE THINGS THAT MY MOM ONCE TOLD ME...NOW ITS TOO LATE CAUSE IM GONE...
I WAS SIXTEEN AND WAS BURIED 6 FEET FROM HEAD TO FEET...
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED.
poem by Gaby Pineda
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Her Refrain
Do you love me?' she said, when the skies were blue,
And we walked where the stream through the branches glistened;
And I told and retold her my love was true,
While she listened and smiled, and smiled and listened.
Do you love me?' she whispered, when days were drear,
And her eyes searched mine with a patient yearning;
And I kissed her, renewing the words so dear,
While she listened and smiled, as if slowly learning.
“Do you love me?” she asked, when we sat at rest
By the stream enshadowed with autumn glory;
Her cheek had been laid as in peace on my breast,
But she raised it to ask for the sweet old story.
And I said: 'I will tell her the tale again—
I will swear by the earth and the stars above me!'
And I told her that uttermost time should prove
The fervor and faith of my perfect love;
And I vowed it and pledged it that nought should move;
While she listened and smiled in my face, and then
She whispered once more, ' Do you truly love me? '
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The Last to Leave
The guns were silent, and the silent hills
had bowed their grasses to a gentle breeze
I gazed upon the vales and on the rills,
And whispered, "What of these?' and "What of these?
These long forgotten dead with sunken graves,
Some crossless, with unwritten memories
Their only mourners are the moaning waves,
Their only minstrels are the singing trees
And thus I mused and sorrowed wistfully
I watched the place where they had scaled the height,
The height whereon they bled so bitterly
Throughout each day and through each blistered night
I sat there long, and listened - all things listened too
I heard the epics of a thousand trees,
A thousand waves I heard; and then I knew
The waves were very old, the trees were wise:
The dead would be remembered evermore-
The valiant dead that gazed upon the skies,
And slept in great battalions by the shore.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Shoulda' Listened
Ohhh... yeah
I should have stopped, looked and listened before I proceeded
But caution I threw to the wind
Manyve been placed in my life to help lead me and guide me
But I didnt want to talk to them
So I ignored their advice and I tried to disguise pain from you and all the things you did
The wrong road was chosen my heart has been broken
Cause I didnt want to hear them
Shoulda said what I didnt say
Shoulda went right but I went left that day
Shoulda prayed but instead I strayed
Shoulda gone a different way
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
I had the chance to advance and it seemed like the best
Opportunity that I could get
I didnt bother to see if my people agreed
Maybe I knew what they would say and yet
I didnt control it I kept going for it
When I shoulda known it wasnt in Gods plan
Had to let go, had I listened before
I wouldve said no from the door
Shoulda said what I didnt say
Shoulda went right but I went left that day
Shoulda stayed but instead I strayed
Shoulda gone a different way
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened I know I shoulda listened
But I know that I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened I know I shoulda listened
But you dont have to tell me twice I'm going to listen now
Shoulda listened if only I had listened
But Ive learned my lesson now
Im gonna listen now
Shoulda listened cause I just cant be missing
All the things God has for me
Repeat till end
song performed by by Out Of Eden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dedication to.....
It's more than just pain,
the walls closing in,
where do I begin? ...
(Breaths)
She's beautiful and smart
an intellectual with heart
been through the storms
fought demons in all forms
wrestling with grief
still she grinds her teeth.
Memories are always haunting
and the future forever daunting
but press on she must
steady and without fuss.
Miracles do happen, slowly
but right now she is lonely
A heart broken too often
she thinks it'll never soften.
But... (breaths)
She's beautiful and smart
an intellectual with heart
the cycle must be broken
no more lies shall be spoken.
she says 'Don't promise me
All I want is honesty.'
But her hearts been broken too often
so she thinks it'll never soften.
(Breaths)
The truth for her is hard to see
A diva she is A QUEEN she will be
poem by GodBody O.G
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woes Versus Rues II
One on one, against and with each other
What's a bottle of alcohol?
"Brothers are bound to each other…"
I listened carefully, the smoke lifting
"Because they are bound by blood, "
I listened carefully, remembering everything
"tethered by compulsory empathy."
I listened carefully, the whiskey sweating
"I do not want that..."
I listened carefully, the sweat soldering down
"I want to be your comrade."
I listened carefully, the echoes rupturing painfully
I have never asked:
"What is a comrade? "
poem by Norman Santos
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How To Meditate
To be in meditation,
You must be with yourself,
Forgetting about the rest.
One way of practicing it
Is count your normal breaths,
A hundred or for ten minutes.
Lying on ground, deep in thought,
Eyes closed, with alarm timing,
You can watch breaths for more good.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bullet Proof
Do you listen to yourself
Never live for someone else
Do you like the way you feel
Nothing hurts when no one's real
She wants to shake this scene
Yeah she wants to shake with me
She's not looking for the holes in all the lies
I wanna bullet proof your soul
Would you like to lose control
I won't let you fall until you tell me so
What are we? (Whatchya wanna be)
Everything! (That you wanna be)
All I need (Right in front of me)
I've know before
Would you come my way
Or did you burn out to the end
Would you come my way
Should have listened when you called my name
Yeah she wants to tear you down
And she leaves without a sound
It's like fallin' backwards
Into no one's arms
You're a bullet through my soul
And I'll never let you know
I won't let you fall until you let it go
What are we? (Whatchya wanna be)
Everything! (That you wanna be)
All I need (Right in front of me)
I've know before
Would you come my way
Or did you burn out to the end
Would you come my way
Should have listened when you called my name
Would you come my way
Or did you burn out to the end
Would you come my way
Should have listened when you called my name
Should have listened when you called my name
Should have listened when you called my name
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The War Of The Children
The child abuse has been the war of the children
It is going on for too long in a world like this
The children is the victim of it
It is the children who suffers more each day
Stop the child abuse now
We want to put an end to this war
Make the public aware that this exists
Love the children with all your heart
Make the children feel worth
Make them feel special
Show them respect and let them respect you
Because respect and love is a two way thing
Respect the children wishes
Make this world a safe place for our children
Teach them to listened
Let them feel welcome in this world
Let the children live there lives
When you abuse the children
You break there hearts, you are destroying there dreams
And the respect they have for you is lost
What do you get when you abuse the children?
You get no satisfaction
The children have lost there sense of worth
They don’t feel special anymore
And they don’t feel safe anymore
The children know whom they can trust and whom they can’t
Help the children to grow in a safe environment
Feel there hearts with laughter and take there sadness away
Give them the support they need each day as they live there lives
poem by Aldo Kraas
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For A Niece Who Just Had An Abortion
she left Ormoc
for it is such a small place for
her mind
she arrived in Cebu
that early morning
with a small pack of
clothes
she just had an abortion
and she felt so
isolated
she did not go direct
to her boarding house
she sat on one of the
benches in Fuente Circle
she cried, she is blank
as a grey sky sans the sun
she called my wife
through her phone, sobbing
'It is still very painful'
my wife listened
just listened
she knew how is it
to bleed
without stopping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The World Is Running Down
Turn on my V.C.R.
Same one I've had for years
James Brown on the T. A. M. I. show
Same tape I've had for years
I sit in my old car
Same one I've had for years
Old battery's running down
It ran for years and years
Turn on the radio
The static hurts my ears
Tell me where would I go
I ain't been out in years
Turn on the stereo
It's played for years and years
An Otis Redding song
It's all I own
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
Plug in my M.C.I
To exercise my brain
Make records on my own
Can't go out in the rain
Pick up the telephone
I've listened here for years
No one to talk to me
I've listened here for years
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When I feel lonely here
Don't waste my time with tears
I run 'Deep Throat' again
It ran for years and years
Don't like the food I eat
The cans are running out
Same food for years and years
I hate the food I eat
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of what's still around
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting For The Spider
how many small deaths?
nickels and dimes in dust filled pockets...
are we drifting off to sleep?
out to sea?
or further from the core?
we die in circles,
circles within circles.
with small short breaths hurled
on the hairy plate of eternity.
a thousand tiny fires,
built by unseen hands
on darkened roads...
a thousand tiny deaths!
or a thousand stop the world kisses,
when names and identities are forgotten,
if but for an eternal moment.
how many times must i be the butterfly?
the snail? the hummingbird flying backwards?
or just stagnant water in a cast aside tire...
waiting for the spider?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Mother
Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get,
The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,
The singers and workers that never handled the air.
You will never neglect or beat
Them, or silence or buy with a sweet.
You will never wind up the sucking-thumb
Or scuttle off ghosts that come.
You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh,
Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye.
I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed
children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.
Though why should I whine,
Whine that the crime was other than mine?--
Since anyhow you are dead.
Or rather, or instead,
You were never made.
But that too, I am afraid,
Is faulty: oh, what shall I say, how is the truth to be said?
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.
Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
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A Story Made
The table with its sunshade wide,
listened to the chattering.
Old and young sat side by side
around it, gaily nattering.
The birds perched nearby in the trees,
listened to the chattering
rising up on a light breeze.
Indeed the sounds were shattering.
The sun that shone down from the sky,
listened to the chattering.
Knew that once the rain came by,
there would be gentle pattering.
The young and old who felt the drops,
ceased to do the chattering.
Went indoors under rooftops,
resuming their loud yattering.
The sunshade dripping from the hail,
listened to the chattering.
Felt so sorry for a snail,
getting such a harsh battering.
The chairs where everyone had sat,
listened to the chattering.
Many were now lying flat.
there had been quite a scattering.
And so all these things a story made,
all about the chattering.
The elements well displayed,
when all received a splattering.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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