En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Flesh And Bones, And Blood!

the family farmer,
the factory worker,
the construction worker,
the truckdriver...
the backbone of America!

these are the people
you've chosen to persecute,
to abuse, and throw away...
you've cut off your hands,
and started a revolution...

your fathers, your mothers,
hardworking, and honest.
the flesh and bones, and blood...
the heart and the soul...
what are you thinking now?

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

“Bound to work”

“Bound to work”
She was ailing with pain.
Work speed was some slow still then she was working.
Why?
She was a worker in a factory.
Work provides food and medicine for her family.
So, she was bound to work in illness also.
She was not telling to the manager about her ailment.
Because it may be possible that manager can sent her on leave with out pay.
And pay was everything for her.
She was a poor worker of a factory having burden of her poor family.
Poverty and burden was her destiny.
I feel that it is the story of unaccountable poor people of the world.

poem by Vijay Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

One day I heard a speech of Hitler. In this speech he said that the German factory worker and the German labourer must make common cause with the German intellectual worker.

quote by Fritz Sauckel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

United Front Song

And because a man is human
He'll want to eat, and thanks a lot
But talk can't take the place of meat
or fill an empty pot.

So left, two, three!
So left, two, three!
Comrade, there's a place for you.
Take your stand in the workers united front
For you are a worker too.

And because a man is human
he won't care for a kick in the face.
He doesn't want slaves under him
Or above him a ruling class.

So left, two, three!
So left, two, three!
Comrade, there's a place for you.
Take your stand in the workers united front
For you are a worker too.

And because a worker's a worker
No one else will bring him liberty.
It's nobody's work but the worker' own
To set the worker free.

So left, two, three!
So left, two, three!
Comrade, there's a place for you.
Take your stand in the workers united front
For you are a worker too.

poem by Bertolt Brecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

So, if you're doing good longform with talented people than you can step out and you can be the president or a construction worker and people accept that. It's really the roles you give yourself.

quote by Amy Poehler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

And I think it is the genius of actors to be able to escape whatever people are expecting of them. Otherwise you become like a factory worker.

quote by Olivier Martinez
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

Liberty... (Dont Betray Me Now!)

Liberty...
dont betray me now.
i have paid your price,
in bodies burning,
and mouths that tremble.
in toil and struggle,
in sweat and faith.

take not thy hand from my heart,
for you have spoken to me with eyes.
eyes that see the beauty
of the common, and simple.
eyes that drink equality,
seeing hands joined in darkened rooms.
eyes that pray common prayers.

who am i to have a face?
who are these faces,
giving dignity to names?
history written in warm blood,
on the farmhouse walls,
on the factory floors,
in the carpenter's apron!

i am the voice of what should have been...
what could have been!
i am family handed down to family,
i am equity and justice.
i am the black hand taking down
the all white sign...
i am the horses of Crazy Horse,
Sitting Bull, and Cochise.
i am the mill worker's only son,
going to college.
i am the daughter of the minister,
marching for women's rights.
i am the young man in prison,
teaching himself to read!

i am the sound
of machines shut down,
of fields left unplowed,
of courtrooms empty.
i am the bodies of the young men,
killed in your napalm wars...
i am the mother and father,
burying their only son.
i am the rage of the poor,
with calloused hands torn.
i am the housing projects,
the trailer parks,
and the prisons full.
i am the cities gone mad,
with despair and grief.
i am the spirit of rebellion,
and the body of revolution!

i am the scientist, the doctor,
the preacher, and the drunkard.
i am the free thinker,
daring to question.
i am the man alone,
who dares to stand and defy.
i am the voices of the grandfathers,
and grandmothers,
crying out from their graves.
i am the migrant worker,
the bedpan emptier,
the garbage man,
and the small town sheriff...
the stink of injustice,
and the vote not counted.

Liberty, o Liberty,
turn not your face...
for i am the breath and the blood,
that moves your body!
i am the prayer too long unprayed...
one hand in a fist,
and the other left open!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Today... 'The Carpenter

Joseph the carpenter's adopted one
born to his family as Mary's son.
In Nazareth with skill the yokes You made
working hard to learn Your carpenting trade.

Master craftsman and skilled worker of wood
lived there the meek and lowly Son of God.
They took offence thinking You just to be
Mary's son living with them locally.

Great worker of souls made of earthly clay
'Come learn of Me, ' to us we hear You say.
'My yoke is easy and My burden's light
Come rest in Me for I have won the fight.'

Your workmanship clearly displayed in me
Such great craftsmanship and creativity.
I've been sensitively taken apart
and then born again with a brand new heart.

Your wondrous ability to transform
can be seen the miracles You perform.
When in repentance people come to You
to be forgiven and are smade anew.

From my great burden I have been set free.
No more the penalty of sin for me
for now I have been made completely whole
by the wondrous Carpenter of my soul

(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)

poem by Roy Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Broremann The Farmhand

Broremann, the farmer worker.

Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Farmer's Value

The worker in the field plays a vital role
Without him to operate the tractors and combines
The crop will not be quickly harvested
Without workers in the field
Supply will diminish; demand will go through the roof
The human will then be carnivorous
Relying solely on the animal for food
Meanwhile, the animal eats the crop
That the worker does not harvest
I appreciate and praise the hard worker
For he is harvesting the crop I consume.

poem by Nick Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I want to make a film about a factory worker.

quote by Richard Linklater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Family of War

Every morning I awake I fall to my knees and pray.
God, please make the war in Iraq come to end.
There are too many fathers and sons come home
in pine boxes. There are too many mothers and daughters
doing the same. Leaving behind fathers and sons mothers
and daughter with a last memory of them waving goodbye.
There is too much blood and tears of fathers and sons mothers
and daughters being shed all in the name of peace.
God please let our leaders see how many families are dying
and that war can never bring peace. Only love can.
This prayer is my gun and God you’re the bullet I’m shooting
to end this Family of War.

poem by Lore Me34
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Many talk about a guest worker program. I think most reasonable people believe that a guest worker program in the farming industry, perhaps in the gardening and landscape industries, is reasonable.

quote by Gary Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Bread

bread we eat is soaked

in farmer's, floor mill worker's

and bake-man's sweat

poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Am... (Hands Of The Clock)

i am...
the hands of the clock,
approaching midnight.
the world on fire,
the thunderous shout of hunger.
i am the ditch,
filled with the bodies of freedom.
i am the hammer,
that drove the nails.
i am the hated, the despised,
and the friendless.
i am the stranger,
that smells like your brother.
i am the enemy
of tyranny and oppression.
i am the blood
shed for the truth.
i am the day after,
destruction and fall.
i am the taste of death,
that burns to live.
i am dirty, sweaty,
bruised, and shaken...
i am freedom standing
when all else is gone.
i am the chant of equality,
the downfall of religions.
i am the lover, the worker,
the farmer, and the builder.
i am the ark
that carries the seed.
i am the courage
that lays down weapons.
i am justice, listening,
caring, and changing!
i am revolution, redemption,
man and woman side by side.
i am electric, naked,
sensual, and common!
i am the end of what has been..
i am the new day,
the new way, the bridge between men!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Am (Identity)

i am, become...
i am the misconception,
and the fatal blow.
the angered action gone astray,
by the passionate soul.
i am the mortal in immortal,
and the man in human...

i am the patriot who rebels,
the soldier who puts down his gun.
the man who burns down the house
the day before the bank forecloses.
the worker whose pay they cut,
the citizen whose rights they took,
the husband and father, family gone!

i am the prisoner who's done his time,
the sinner baptized again and again.
the friend who takes the fall,
and gets back up to lend a hand.
i am the echo of a time passed by,
both right and wrong, good and bad...

i am the color of the human heart,
blood red, and beating strong!
i am the one who never quits,
who stands naked on hallowed ground.
my father's son, my mother's hope,
i am the same as you.

i am! i am!
i shout and proclaim!
i am America's identity,
i am, become...

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Healing The Family Tree

for you to let me know
that i must pay for all that the family owed
from the past
the suffering souls of my great fathers
and fathers of my fathers
and their mothers
i am sorry but i was not the one
that committed the blunder
that is their business and mine is different
look at me
have i not suffered enough to deserve all these
genetic retaliations?
hold my hands
don't you feel that all these tremblings
in fear
are not enough to pay for their
misdeeds?
your paranoia is mine too.

but somehow, all these must be stopped.
the wombs of our mothers are tested with pain
one leg to life the other held by death
yet they walk this valley of death without question
they breathe your air without suspicion
they live the way they ought to
and they die
without much ado.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

You Call This America!

morning splintered,
justice stinks like the
dried blood on the concrete walls
of an abandoned building.
you call this America!
lives wrapped in color,
in calloused hands.
standing in line
for a loaf of bread.
a bullet, a token,
a fresh covered grave,
you call this America!
you wear your god in sunday best,
throw words and prayers
into a bottomless well.
afraid of your shadows,
you arm yourselves,
you call this America!
the hands of take flex
and shout...
while dirt faced children
stand with mouths agape.
mothers die, and brothers are killed.
sisters sold on the block
beneath colored lights...
you call this America!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I am an enthusiast, but not a crank in the sense that I have some pet theories as to the proper construction of a flying machine. I wish to avail myself of all that is already known and then, if possible, add my mite to help on the future worker who will attain final success.

quote by Wilbur Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Our Own Kin

our own kin
name tags on my chest
genes in my flesh
our own skin
bearing our own family names
tattoos of our
marked existence as part of this
and that
roots
on our feet
and vines in our hands
wherever we go
we are us
our own kin our own skin
our identities as sons of these fathers
and mothers
as favorite grandsons
hope of the family tree
integrated
not grafts
but twigs and tendrils

despite our hatred
of the roots
we still are
leaves and
branches

how can we get away
from these that made us grow
into treetops
overlooking the mountains
of our lives

somehow there will be change
to norms
new laws for family ties
the right to take myself
from a name
to have my own house
inside my body
to get rid my veins of the
bad blood
to remove their nails
embedded on my toes
and fingers

somehow
know me as i am
and not a part
an extension of whom and
where

i have my on why you know
listen to me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Am.... (Namaste)

i heard your soul whimper
from across the miles,
in the dead of night,
when you thought no one cared.
i saw the light in your eyes,
when you fed the hungry child,
and brushed the dirt from his face
with hands that trembled.
i felt the tears,
that you couldnt cry...
as you buried your only son,
killed in their wars.
i smelled the fear in your body,
but tasted the grit and determination,
as they beat you to the street
for protesting their greed.
i shook with the cold lonliness
of your tiny cell,
where they left you
with no identity or hope...
your freedom taken
for standing up for freedom,
your human rights taken
for defending human rights.

i am the song,
and the hymn of you.
i bathe in your light,
i drink your darkness.
i taste the colors of your skin,
and they all taste the same.
i feel your fears,
your desires, and your dreams.
i am the farmer, the mill worker,
i stand in your factory lines.
i am the activist, the doubter,
the good and the evil.
i feel the blows you've taken,
i can name your scars.
i've slept with your failures,
and buried your mistakes.
i am the love of your hidden names,
i walk by your sides,
know your steps and your sweat.

i am the good things you've done,
and yes, even the bad!
i am the triumph, and i am the loss.
i am the breath of god,
that fills your bodies....
you are the flesh and bones
and the feet of my dreams!
i am the sacred, the magnificent,
the simple, and the mundane...
all living within
every moment you live!

i am the song,
and the hymn of you.
i am the work
that only you can do.
i am the dance, the drive,
the passion, and the chance...
you are the words
that only god can express!
namaste!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!