Hunters And Gatherers
rooster crowing,
dogs barking, rain falling,
almost a tease...
the price of gas rising,
the cost of life rising,
Wall Street speculates...
gambling with human lives.
so many walk the edge,
teetering with every blow...
the sound of distant trumpets!
small people have big hearts,
picking up pieces of lives,
scattered like trash
on highways that devour.
strong candles stay lit,
flicker with the storm,
yet the light remains,
the light remains...
rooster crowing,
sleep pillows laid aside,
the hunters and gatherers
tuck their children neath their arms!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Happy Easter
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
To strut and cluck for someone sleeping,
To get up.
And do that if programmed before the dawn shows up.
And if that rooster gets into a rut...
Who will then do the clucking?
Or wake up,
To collect the eggs!
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
To strut and cluck for someone sleeping,
To get up.
And do that if programmed before the dawn shows up.
And if that rooster gets into a rut...
Who will then do,
The clucking?
Or wake up,
To collect the eggs!
'Happy Easter'
~Do you notice anything different about those eggs? ~
'Yeah!
They are colored.
Why? '
~They are for the Easter Egg Hunt.
Put them back.~
'Oh!
I must be dreaming.
I thought I heard a rooster crow.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A rooster crows only when it sees the light. Put him in the dark and he'll never crow. I have seen the light and I'm crowing.
quote by Muhammad Ali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgive My Lead, But...
Forgive my Lead,
but i am just a cloud rising
and then
by chance the strong
wind
may blow me
north
when i merely want
to stay
wanting to get rid
of this rain
pregnant with
vapor
i am feeling so heavy
i rise at first
because i am as light
as hydrogen
gas
but soon i will fall
as storm
and acidic
rain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Red Rooster
All right, listen now. at this time I would like to introduce a friend of ours,
A very talented guy named john sebastian. come on man.
Man, thats what I call a new york joint, man!
You can pick your teeth with a new york joint!
Well, Im the little red rooster
Too lazy to crow the day.
Little red rooster
Too lazy to crow the day.
Keep everything in the barnyard
Upset in every way.
Dogs begin to bark
The hounds begin to howl.
Dogs begin to bark and
The hounds begin to howl.
Look out strange cat people
The roosters on the prowl.
Yeah, dogs begin to bark
The hounds begin to howl.
Dogs begin to bark
The hounds begin to howl.
Look out strange cat people
Yeah, the roosters on the prowl.
If you see my rooster
Come on man, drive him home.
See my rooster, babe
Come on man, drive him home.
Aint been no peace in the barnyard
Since my little red rooster been gone.
Well, Im the little red rooster, babe
Too lazy to crow the day.
Well, Im the little red rooster, babe
Too lazy to crow the day.
Keep everything in the barnyard
Upset in every way.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning to Play Coltrane
She thought it was green, not
the emerald green of Indian summer
but a green like a darkening plain,
or the shadow rivers cast.
She thought it was light, a glint
or a warning, the shine
at the papery edge
of storm clouds. The way
a voice rising and falling becomes
a premonition, a dampness
at the back of her neck. Or maybe
it was more of an imprint,
a memory of sound, some afternoon
after the circus has left town
and all that remains is a field
strewn with garbage, a music
of pasted stars and ruin.
And she thought of a color
like that, mud-green, the green
of a small sadness, shapeless
as the wind itself. And for a moment
she owned everything inside it,
the light, the field, the wind.
—for Adrian
First published in American Poetry Review.
poem by Silvia Curbelo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Their Birthday Suits
Cuckoo a silly bird,
Heard at early dawning.
Shakens those awake,
With a yawning that they make.
And...
Sunrise begins to lift,
Up on the horizon.
People rub their eyes,
To begin their routined lives.
In their birthday suits,
Some wish they could wear all day.
Naked like a rooster when the crowing gets done.
To do all their chores without impressing someone.
Trying not to duplicate what was worn yesterday.
In their birthday suits,
Some wish they could wear all day.
Lazy they are feeling,
With the expense to keep clothes clean.
Knowing where they work it seems...
The only purpose to show up is just to be seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Little Red Rooster
I am the little red rooster, too lazy to crow today
I am the little red rooster, too lazy to crow today
Keep everything in the farmyard
Upset in evry way
The dogs begin to barkin, hounds begin to howl
Dogs begin to barkin, hounds begin to howl
Watch out strange cat people
Little red roosters on the prowl
If you see my little red rooster, please drive him home
If you see my little red rooster, please drive him home
Aint no peace in the farmyard
Since my little red roosters been gone
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Red Rooster
(dixon)
I am the little red rooster
Too lazy to crow for day
I am the little red rooster
Too lazy to crow for day
Keep everything in the farm yard upset in every way
The dogs begin to bark and hounds begin to howl
Dogs begin to bark and hounds begin to howl
Watch out strange cat people
Little red roosters on the prowl
If you see my little red rooster
Please drive him home
If you see my little red rooster
Please drive him home
Aint had no peace in the farm yard
Since my little red roosters been gone
song performed by by Rolling Stones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Sun
Our Sun
on edge
of world
signals
days rush
has finished,
dusk, and
twilight
time begins.
Our Sun’s
warmth stays;
it’s love
still warms,
removes, the
shadows from
our souls.
Moon,
a lightened mirror,
rising on a
darkened
world,
allows
Our Sun’s,
reflected light
to shine,
to remove
the darkness,
and uncertainty
from our lives.
Our Sun is
always free,
no charge
given to
light and warm
our hearts, our souls,
our lives.
11-12-2008
poem by Bob Blackwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fathers Torment
We hide in the shadows in obscurity
We are the fathers of the children that you see
Women are the life line, that we all know.
Since the beginning of conception and
Throughout our lives, we have to thank them
For becoming our mothers and our wives.
Men plant the seed, but on the woman’s
tube the children do feed.
Without the female there is no life
So as men we have to think twice.
At times though, we feel empty and forgotten
For all that we do in a child’s life.
When we play games with them, teach them
And give them moral support
It is something that is given, not something that is bought.
We will go back into the shadows when our hearts
Are about to burst, and this is what makes the pain so much worse.
They say that a man is not supposed to cry
But you and I know that’s an old fashioned lie.
We bleed, we cry, we feel heartache too
We are human, this is what we do.
Any man can be a father, but every man can not be a dad.
And I look upon that, and it makes me very sad.
This child has our blood and we helped to give it life
But there is no credit given to the husband, ” just the wife“.
We may be just the father, but we share in their lives too.
All we ask is recognition of the things that we do.
I recall at your birth, when I walked into the delivery room
Your eyes called me, like a mystical, magical tune.
Your eyes searched me out like a rooster for the rising sun
And looking in your eyes, I knew you was the one.
This is a fathers torment that I guess we all go through.
But without your love and dependence, what am I going to do.
I love you more than you’ll ever know
Look in my eyes, and there it will show.
And to your mother she must know:
The key number in this world is TWO, without me there is no you.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Revisit With the Trees
What do I think,
About the current economic crisis?
And how it affects the quality of life,
Experienced by those who have lost their treasures?
Such as their life savings.
401k's.
Values and standards they held,
Now quickly diminished?
What time is it?
'It's nearly noon,
Why? '
In the mornings when I take my walks,
And the air is fresh...
With the birds singing,
After the dawn breaks...
And this distant sound of a rooster crowing.
I approach the park and stroll...
Every so slowly.
Absorbing, I do, the quietness of the atmosphere.
With 'this' thought precisely kept in my mind...
~I am alone with nature!
However...
Never is nature hardly alone with me.~
And I marvel to be amongst the presence,
Of all that benefits my life!
What time is it now?
'Just a couple of minutes beyond noon,
Why? '
And to think...
Within less than 18 hours,
I will make a revisit...
With the trees!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Choose To Be A Rooster
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed from being locked up inside of a coop.
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed.
I can strut it like a rooster,
To cluck as I please.
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed from being locked up inside of a coop.
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed.
I can strut it like a rooster,
To cluck as I please.
And before the dawn,
I can disturb your sleep.
And as the Sun arises,
You wont hear from me a peep.
Because,
I choose to be a rooster.
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed.
I can strut it like a rooster,
To cluck as I please.
And before the dawn,
I can disturb your sleep.
And as the Sun arises,
You wont hear from me a peep.
Because,
I choose to be a rooster.
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed from being locked up inside of a coop.
I can strut it like a rooster,
Recently freed.
I can strut it like a rooster,
To cluck as I please.
Because,
I choose to be a rooster.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tough And Rough
Tough
Are the lives lived of those once puffed
Who today will not give up
Although for them these times are rough
Without the pampering done with fluffed up stuff
Falling from the top down to the ground
Can come to stun those looking around
Falling from the top down to the ground
Can come with a thud and a crashing sound
Falling from the top down to the ground
Can come to perplex and compound composures
With a picking up of pieces
Slipping away from greasy reaches
Falling from the top down to the ground
Can be so tough
And rough
For those who have not had enough
Tough
Are the lives lived of those once puffed
With a picking up of pieces
Slipping away from greasy reaches
Falling from the top down to the ground
Can come to stun those looking around
For remnants of yesterday to be found
And
Left astounded!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our street light
there we would sit
under the street light
free from the dark
just you and me
having a laugh
talking bout the good times
talking bout the bad
however messed up our lives were
watever pain we were in
the street light would heal us and set us free again
it was our getaway
it was our thing
the street light brought us together
the street light brought us the end
i still remember that street light like that special glow you had my friend
the street light brought us fun
the street light brought us love
the street light brought us warmth as we lay and look at the stars above
i was happy under the street light
as i knew you were too
comforting each other was all we used to do
the street light may be faded
the street light may be dull
but lets just remember the street light kept us going strong!
poem by Brad Brown
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Another Page Turned!
another page turned,
torn, and thrown
into the fire...
time passes.
angry people say angry things,
things they dont really mean...
not even sure who or what
they're angry at...
even when you walk quietly
behind the plow, storms come!
the paint on the wall peels,
but the wall remains...
dogs barking at the stray cat
in the rain... all the cat wants,
is in! we are no different...
none of us like the rain for too long!
we are a people lost,
on a journey we dont understand.
our minds cannot grasp
the infinite, cannot define...
that which we long for,
and cannot speak of...
for lack of better words,
we call it god, or truth.
and yet there's no more to life
than can be seen in a leaf,
in an acorn, in a pebble...
in a baby's tiny hand grasping.
so turn the page,
feed the fire...
the beat of a single sparrow's wing
holds my life, and my destiny!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Early Morning Wish
it is too early
i guess the nights are longer now
it is 4: 56 a.m. it is cold
the air is cold
and the windows are still closed
the rooster at the yard
keeps on crowing
while other roosters of the neighborhood
(i live in a rural town
with dusty roads still at the other
nearby kiosk)
keep on crowing too for an answer,
how i wish to make you
a lovely,
happy,
gentle,
peaceful poem
no one screaming on the road
not a motorcab screeching
neither a bus overspeeding
and spreading dust
how i wish to write you a poem
about love
or about that only peaceful star
hanging on the
early morning sky
just a wish
but really
there isn't any
it cannot be
what with a heart that is grieving
a soul that is lost
a body that trembles
a mind with thoughts live leaves
heap upon heap
without a match
to burn them all
this hot days of summer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Early
it is too early
i guess the nights are longer now
it is 4: 56 a.m. it is cold
the air is cold
and the windows are still closed
the rooster at the yard
keeps on crowing
while other roosters of the neighborhood
(i live in a rural town
with dusty roads still at the other
nearby kiosk)
keep on crowing too for an answer,
how i wish to make you
a lovely,
happy,
gentle,
peaceful poem
no one screaming on the road
not a motorcab screeching
neither a bus overspeeding
and spreading dust
how i wish to write you a poem
about love
or about that only peaceful star
hanging on the
early morning sky
just a wish
but really
there isn't any
it cannot be
what with a heart that is grieving
a soul that is lost
a body that trembles
a mind with thoughts live leaves
heap upon heap
without a match
to burn them all
this hot days of summer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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2: 53 A.m.
loudest is the sound of the
cock crowing
though far from this house
of hay
it cannot hear us somehow
on another cock crowing
on your hands
of cotton
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Moon Rising
(whispered: some people like that
Some people like that
Some people like that)
Come on all my people, come one and all, one and all
If you want all your people right there right then
Your better ladys dead and theyre appalled
And theyre appalled
Come into my palace, come and see my hollow walls
The servants crawl
Its gonna be a blue moon rising, rising one and all
Some people like that
Gonna get them with your money, all that shines gets polished bald
Could not enthral
Gonna get them like a tweedledee or a tweedledum
The classiest sales pitch aint an equal sum
It aint gonna be fun
Come into my dreamworld, a simple smile not a loaded gun
Just a shine in the sun
Its gonna be a blue moon rising, rising one and all, all alone
Some people like that
Some people like that
Some people like that
Then some people are like children in the moonlight, aa-ooh
Then some people are like children in the moonlight, aa-ooh
Then some people are like children in the moonlight, aa-ooh
Then some people are like children in the moonlight, aa-ooh
Its gonna be a blue moon rising, rising one and all, one and all
Its gonna be a blue moon rising, rising one and all
Some people like that
Some people like that
Some people like that (repeat to end)
(ben: blue moon rising
Blue moon rising)
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small price to pay
Small price
Small price
Small price to pay
That all you say
Sending all the children to war
Tell us it will all be ok
Say they will come back two year this day
Small price to pay
They will be ok
They will be ok
Why is that all you say
You dig a pit in our hearts
Fill it up with lies
And seal it up
And seal it up
Why cant you tell us were they really are
Were they really are
Were they really are
If it a small price to pay
Send your children out in play
It that a price your willing to pay
Will you let your children stay
Our is that to big a price to pay
poem by Carlos Cardona
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