God Smells Like...
god smells like the shoes you wore
when you mowed your elderly neighbor's yard...
like your hands when you emptied his bedpan...
like your tears when you stood alone by his grave!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Pachyderm
O' my elderly world, am I getting too bold?
The ones who go first were the elderly ones
Leaving spawns of unfertile aftermaths
Leaving my elderly world high and dry
O' my elderly world, am I getting out of control?
Doing everything that crosses my mind
Like there is no tomorrow
Like there are no rules
O' my elderly world, am I worthy of being alive?
When all my tendency contributes are turmoils
When my currupted mind only grieves others'
Like I own this elderly world...
O' my elderly world, are the rulers doing well?
When all they can offer are blood, tears and lives taken
When the rich becomes richer
When the poor becomes poorer
Like they own this elderly world...
O' my elderly world, do I still have the time?
Am always envious of time
Am always running out of time
Hope I won't be here when your time runs out
O' my elderly world...
poem by Chosen Reject
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The Poets
an old woman poet,
stood behind the table,
doling out plate after plate,
to the line of faces...
taking the time...
to ask each their name.
a young student poet,
jerked from the picket line,
beaten, and arrested...
now sits in jail.
the young man poet,
just home after a 12 hour shift,
went next door and mowed
his elderly neighbor's grass.
a young girl poet,
took in the stray cat,
fed it, and held it...
and rocked it to sleep.
the poor poet,
makes a pallot on the floor
of his empty room,
for the homeless to sleep on.
the old man poet,
goes to work again,
minimum wage with a smile,
to feed his sick wife...
the common poet,
build houses, works on machines,
tills gardens, works on cars...
treats everyone the same...
and no one knows his name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dharma Talk # 2 (Cry For Help)
the growl in your stomach,
your neighbor's hunger.
the wet spot on your pillow,
your neighbor's tears.
the sharp pain in your heart,
your neighbor's eviction notice.
the sadness in your mirror...
your neighbor's cry for help!
WAKE UP!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Grass Is Greener
One thing that I have heard
As I have often been told
Was the grass is always greener
On the other side of the road,
And to the that one statement
I truly had no ideal,
Was it but a lie that I often heard
Or was that assumption for real.
So on top of my own roof
I went to, after my climb
To check another ones yard
Of course a yard, that wasn't mine.
And there is where I stood
As I surveyed across the road
To see if anyone's grass was greener
As I often had heard and also been told.
And there from where that I stood
And from what that I could see
Their grass was not any greener
Than my yard, that I do believe.
So I surveyed the yards of my neighbors
As up on my roof I stood as I thought
Maybe all yards are all different then
So I got off my roof, and I went for a walk.
I walked down the street
Then I walked up the next block
Seems as though the houses got bigger
Along with their possession's and their lots.
Their grass didn't seem any greener
Than mine or the other that I have seen
Though theirs yards were much larger
As though a good picture from everyone's dream.
So there I left, and I continued my walk
I then came across some railroad tracks
And there stood houses and from what I saw,
Their grass was as green, front yard and back.
Though their yards they wasn't as large
As the ones I have seen
And their houses weren't as large or as nice
But their yards, they were just as green.
So then I headed back unto my home
To reflect back on the things that I have seen,
And of the ideals people thought of and said
And what in their mind they really did mean.
So when I got back unto my home
I climbed again on top of my roof
So there I could reflect and think to myself
About my neighbors and me and to tell the truth.
Though the grass might be greener, I did say
On the other side of the road,
But this one thing I tell you my friend,
The grass, it still has to be mowed.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Elderly coughers:
welfare funds flow painfully
from emptied coffers.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (13 January 1993)
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How We Were Introduced
—for perfidious protectors
I was playing in the street
no one paid attention to me
as I made forms out of sand
mumbling Rimbaud under my breath
once an elderly gentleman overheard it
—little boy you are a poet
just now we are organizing
a grass-roots literary movement
he stroked my dirty head
gave me a large lollypop
and even bought clothes
in the protective coloring of youth
I didn’t have such a splendid suit
since first communion
short trousers and a wide
sailor’s collar
black patent leather shoes with a buckle
white knee-high socks
the elderly gentleman took me by the hand
and led the way to the ball
other boys were there
also in short trousers
carefully shaven
shuffling their feet
—well boys now it’s time to play
why are you standing in the corners
asked the elderly gentleman
—make a circle holding hands
but we didn’t want tag
or blindman’s buff
we had enough of the elderly gentleman
we were very hungry
so we were seated promptly
around a large table
given lemonade
and pieces of cake
now disguised as adults
with deep voices
the boys got up they praised us
or slapped us on our hands
we didn’t hear anything
didn’t feel anything
staring with great eyes
at the piece of cake
that kept melting
in our hot hands
and this sweet taste the first in our lives
disappeared inside our dark sleeves
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Nostos
There was an apple tree in the yard --
this would have been
forty years ago -- behind,
only meadows. Drifts
of crocus in the damp grass.
I stood at that window:
late April. Spring
flowers in the neighbor's yard.
How many times, really, did the tree
flower on my birthday,
the exact day, not
before, not after? Substitution
of the immutable
for the shifting, the evolving.
Substitution of the image
for relentless earth. What
do I know of this place,
the role of the tree for decades
taken by a bonsai, voices
rising from the tennis courts --
Fields. Smell of the tall grass, new cut.
As one expects of a lyric poet.
We look at the world once, in childhood.
The rest is memory.
poem by Louise Gluck
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Neighbor, Neighbor
Neighbor, neighbor, why you messin in my life?
Neighbor, neighbor, youve been talkin to my wife,
Tellin her you seen me
Runnin wild the other night,
Runnin wild the other night.
A neighbor, neighbor, theress always one in every crowd.
A neighbor, neighbor, tellin lies and talkin loud.
You better watch your step now.
You might fall off your cloud.
You might fall off your cloud.
Now I was walking down a dusty road
When along came a neighbor of mine.
He saw me walkin with my head hung down,
He just had to stop and pass the time.
Neighbor, neighbor, floatin in the salty brine.
Floatin in the salty brine.
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nurture the Elderly
All the elderly are all alone,
All alone in nursing homes.
Sleeping in beds with drugs
blurrying their heads.
Now this is our state of affairs right now,
before we had elderly helping out.
They lived to be healthy and take care of kids,
now we hide them away and make them forget.
Forget who they are,
for we labeled them thus far.
As drains on our society and economy,
not giving them respect or dignity.
Alzheimer's has a spiritual cause,
no family ties is the result of it all.
Now we need to give Elderly’s
a way to fit in,
to give them meaning to life
not make them a “has been”.
They could work at Daycares,
help with the children
because they have so much to share.
It’s a shame for one day we could be in their shoes,
we better change our ways, we have too much to lose.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 19,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
www.suzaechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Buried Between two Trees
Back home again
in the yard
I used to play in
So many memories here
of days long ago
for memories, I hold dear
Saw the grave of old shep
the dog I loved so
in this yard, he followed me every step
He's buried between two trees you see
buried him in my brand new quilt
and my mother was really mad at me
In this yard, I would bathe him
many years before
his old eyes grew dim
His bed layed by the cellar door
with tall trees, all around him
oh memories, of the dog I adored
Memories of the time
that the meter man came
he hit old shep, that wasn't very kind
This old yard, was all shep had
he guarded it with his life
when he died, I was very sad
This old yard, now has in it,
a lot of beautiful flowers, all round
between two trees, he wouldn't mind a bit.
Graveside
They stood alone at the grave edge.
We stood back.
Gave those precious moments,
Their last farewell.
The melancholy of that rainy day,
Where tears mingled with rain.
But then the sun split the sky
A shaft illuminating their grief,
Their agony for a too soon buried son.
poem by Paul Brookes
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The Elderly These Days!
The younger birds have flown off far away!
Their parents aged are left alone today;
The nest looks empty, silent, everyday;
O Lord, show us your way- they pray!
Who cares who cares for elderly these days?
All children seem busy in their own ways;
Mere solitude is what the world repays;
Oh, what a blot on modern human race!
What love was shown by parents in years past!
They look now weary, dazed, with eyes downcast;
They live in penury and sickness fast;
’Tis years, their near and dear ones saw them last!
Cannot all children understand their plight?
Neglecting elderly is never right;
God sees their bloody tears when children fight;
The elderly need food, comfort, care, sight!
Our parents kept us warm when we were cold;
All children have a duty to ones old;
The elderly need young shoulders to hold;
Their virtuous deeds are worth more than all gold!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-10-2006
Dedicated most lovingly to the World’s Elderly
poem by John Celes
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The grass is always greener on your neighbor's yard.
Carrying Brand New Shoes In A Box
I am not spending time to find anyone,
To assist in the navigating of my journey.
That has already been established.
And what a waste of time that would be,
If I sought that kind of aid.
If I should stumble and fall,
Who will feel those bruises?
Whose patience would be tested?
Who would feel the pain when the tears come.
And...
Who would have to discover the motivation,
To get up and clear the path of obstacles?
I've stopped having those inner monologues.
Not once had I received advice,
From anyone who wore the same size shoes...
I do.
Well...
There was one person.
However...
Carrying brand new shoes in a box,
Does not validate one's experience...
In the wearing of them through stormy weather.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Watching Mother
Your mother is peeling apples
for the apple pie
and you stand watching her
and say can I have some peelings?
Sure she says
it’s probably the best part anyway
and you notice she has tears in her eyes
and wonder if the old man
has had a go at her again
like that time over the camera
and her saying jokingly
you look like some tourist
in upstate New York
and he thumped her one
and her lip bled
and you stood watching
keeping your mouth shut
but wanting to go at him
but you being too small
stood still
and as she peels the apples
you watch her hands
go over the apples
with a skill of years of experience
and you watch as the tears
run down the side of her nose
and fall like raindrops
on to her busy hands
and you focus like some artist
at the way that they land.
poem by Terry Collett
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I too, have got shoes
Have you seen shoes on children here
No shoes for other children
No shoes for your children
My uncle said to my dad
I lost my shoes—small shoes
from then on
My feet crushed the thorns
from then on
The city was taken from me
But not me from the city
from then on
Many years later my shoe remover died
And I got back my shoes
Bigger shoes—for crushing thorns
from then on
I cat walked in them
And went to bed in them
from then on
I got the city back
Even when I stayed there
from then on
Believe me I too have got shoes
And I slip my feet in them
But not for sleep anymore
Yes I too have got shoes
Other children wear shoes
My children wear shoes
Wear shoes why not
Why not why not why not why not
Shoes in the cot
Shoes to school
Shoes to the market
Shoes to the office
Why not wear shoes
poem by Moses Kainwo
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Limitless Thoughts, Continued
Buddha's own son became one of
the 'inner circle' of his followers...
all of us struggle with things that
are unnecessary...
i think you can reach enlightment
just as easy in a prison cell, riding
on a bus, or picking up trash!
i think that we as humans overthink
our 'stabs at infinity'...
we try to contain an ocean in a thimble!
i also think that there's more holiness
in changing a bedpan for an elderly person
than in sitting in a church, a temple, or
whatever!
all of the answers are there, right in front
of us! sometimes, stillness shouts at us!
we're just too damn intellectually stubborn,
far too intent on being on the 'right path'!
the breakthrough comes when we're willing
to sit and talk, and listen.... to share
viewpoints, whether different or the same...
most of all, to listen!
the absolute beauty, and wonder of life,
exuded through the simplest things!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Step Into These Shoes
Step into these shoes feel this heart
Step into these shoes they might fit you
See through these eyes might be the same view
If Id lived through the same things as you
Id share the laughs, and cry the tears that you do
Chorus
Step into these shoes and feel this heart
Step into these shoes no reason to fight
Look into m mind it might fit you
Act out this part is it so different to you
Even if we dont ever agree
The only difference is cosmetically
Step into these shoes no reason to fight
Step in step into these shoes and feel this heart
Just feel my heart it beats with you
We float downstream in the same canoe
You might find the ocean faster than me
But Ill see it eventually
Step into these shoes and feel this heart
Step into these shoes no reason to fight
Step into these shoes and feel this heart
Oh feel this heart please feel it
Step into these shoes and feel this heart oh feel
This heart please feel it
Step into these shoes and feel this heart
Step in step into these shoes no reason to fight
Step in step into these shoes and feel this heart
Step in step into these shoes no reason to fight anymore
Feel this heart oh feel it
Step in step into these shoes no reason to fight
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Shoes
(jack tempchin)
I want em, I need em
And Im gonna go out and get em
White shoes
I know Ill feel better
When I slide down into the leather
White shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
I woke up from a dream
When I saw em in a magazine
White shoes
I said lou you gotta start new
And the first thing you gotta do
Is get some white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
You know he left me with the lonesome blues
Been hangin round too long with nothin to do
Yeah, he really made me pay those dues
But Im goin out on the town tonight in
White shoes
Well, I wanted em, I needed em
Yeah, and I went out and got em
White shoes
That new boy when I see him
Im gonna walk right up and meet him in
White shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes
Im goin out on the town tonight
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lady Wore Black
On a lonely walk this morning
A light mist in the air
Dark clouds laughing at me in silence
Casting shadows through my hair
In the distance I saw a woman
Dressed in black with eyes of grey
She wore her pain like a shackled spirit
Eternal life was her debt to pay
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
The wind song whispered a warning
Telling me to beware
Of the quiet shadowed woman
And of the sadness I would share
We sat together for sometime together in silence
Never speaking in words
Of all her thoughts she spoke with her eyes
And I listened remembering all I heard
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
The words she spoke were of forgotten lives
And of all knowledge gained
Memries I had and didnt know why
With a smile she explained
I should have listened to the winds cold warning
And walked the other way
I touched her soul and now I bear her sentence
But for her love Ill gladly pay
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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