I Am (Blunt Edge)
i am...
the blunt edge, the jagged rim.
the cold shock of truth,
the common sense statement.
the nuclear missiles dismantled,
and the guns laid down.
the food needed for the hungry,
and the collapse of systems.
i am equal distribution,
the need and right to work.
i am Friday night, and Sunday morning,
the wedding dress put away.
i am education for the poor,
and rehab for the addict.
i am the dignity of death
made by the dignity of life!
i am the rose and the broken mower,
the cow milked every morning.
i am the poetry of the common,
and the sacred ground they walk.
i am the baby born in poverty,
and the chance that must be.
i am the prisoner who did his time,
and the job that he needs.
i am the long haul trucker,
the steel worker, and the nurse.
i am the doctor who runs the clinic
on the poor side of town.
i am the young couple making love,
twenty five years later!
i am the stink of garbage,
the incense, and the candle!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
They Struggle Through Life
They struggle through life as they battle with stress
Those born and raised at an unfashionable address
It is a long hike to success and renown
For those who are born at the poor side of town.
Their parents in jail for serious crime
And they become hardened criminals before their life's prime
Homeless in their early teens life hardened and street wise
The wounded eagle from the ground cannot rise.
They are the poor souls on whom drug dealers prey
And from Poverty Street it does seem a long way
To the road to success from the pit of despair
From the poor side of town success stories are rare.
Like their parents of success they stand little chance
They are the poor victims of bad circumstance
Their sense of self esteem is damaged beyond repair
And you cannot tell me that all in life is fair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Saw God
i saw god...
in the small child shunned,
playing alone.
in the pregnant girl scared,
still a baby herself.
in the young man going off to war,
chest stuck out, and knees gone weak.
in the angry young man,
who learns to read in prison.
in the old woman in the empty house,
every wrinkle a chapter of love.
in the stray cat curled
against my leg.
in two young men in love,
kissing on the steps of a church.
in the family living on food stamps,
day work, and faith.
in the addict with the guts
to go into rehab.
in the body in the funeral home
that no one came to see.
in the couple married for twenty five years,
survivors of struggle, passion, and despair.
in the jobless shuffle of the heads down line.
in the old man fishing with his grandson,
in the mother teaching her daughter to pray.
in the poet, the carpenter, the farmer,
the doctor, the garbage man, and the cashier.
in the bride and the groom,
even the murderer and the victim!
in the anger of the protesters,
in the sin, and forgiveness.
in the black, the white, and every color between.
in moonlight pouring through poverty's window....
yes, i saw god...
never entered a church, a temple, or a mosque...
i merely entered the heart
of the living... and touched!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dignity
Dignity is what we want,
As human beings on this earth;
Dignity is what we can’t,
Give up anyway since birth.
Dignity is innate right,
God has bestowed man, He made;
Dignity is cause to fight
When employees get under-paid.
Dignity, all need always
At home, at school and one’s work-place;
Dignity for human race,
Men must guarantee all days.
Dignity in livelihood,
Receive should all citizens;
Dignity in dying too,
World must assure everyone.
Dignity is what we need
In life on earth and when we die;
Dignity is good indeed
For creatures born under the sky.
Dignity for man and beast
Is a must for all, west / east;
Dignity for anyone
Shouldn’t be denied, any time!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-26-2006
poem by John Celes
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Senses
The words were broken into sounds
And the time was cracked in seconds.
The seconds were dismantled slowly.
I grasped my love and I laid it in remembrance,
I grasped my remembrance and I laid it in grievance,
I grasped my grievance and I laid it in reason,
I grasped my reason and I laid it in self,
I grasped myself and I stepped into the light,
I grasped the light and I laid it over the candle wax.
The candle dropped the light.
In the light, the sense of life became clear.
I grasped the sense of life and I laid it over the sense of death.
In this sense of life and death you laid
The seconds, which were dismantled.
They melted in pieces of eternity.
I took those pieces and I gave them to The Lord.
I gave love your name.
I grasped my love and I laid it in remembrance
And I heard the empty bell ringing in the sky.
The bell would ring for someone else,
But I remembered you
poem by Marieta Maglas
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For Many Life's Road
For many life's road is uphill all of the way
From the moment they are born till their very last day
They know what it is like to know of poverty
To make do on little their life's destiny
I feel that good luck in life has been with me
I never was homeless or a refugee
I never did go to bed hungry at night
For many life it is a much tougher fight
You do not have to go far poor people to meet
There are so many of them on Poverty Street
From where they live 'tis a long road to renown
Their ill luck to be born on the poor side of the town
For to live as a pauper is something most would not choose
Yet in life for one to win many have to lose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Already Know
There's no need to tell me I already know
That money on trees never blossoms or grow
Forty thousand in poverty for every millionaire
It is a rat race in the big World out there.
A long road to financial success and renown
For those who are born in the poor side of town
Condemned to be poor by their postal address
Without the right postal code the highbrows you won't impress.
It is common knowledge most will tell you so
'Tis not how clever you are it is who you do know
A wealthy person to you can be a good friend
A poor one has little money for to give or to lend.
In life I've been lucky quite lucky enough
I've never been hungry or had to sleep rough
I've never been Homeless or a Stateless refugee
Though I am aware of others poverty.
I already know you don't have to tell me
That money does not grow on a bush or a tree
Yet whilst some are worth millions and billions in money it seems sad to say
That many are dying of hunger every day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Am (Continued)
i am, become...
i am the lonesome wail
of streets gone empty,
of factories deserted,
of shops closed down.
i am the abortion clinic bombed
by the right wing fanatic,
and the baby left with a baby
that she cannot raise.
i am the food pantry,
the mission, the soup line...
my faces used to be your neighbors.
i am the tractor rusted in the snow,
the well gone dry...
i am the young gay couple
wanting so much to marry,
i am the fundamentalist afraid
of anything i dont understand.
i am the heroin addict
on the endless stoop,
i am the black child growing up
in a neighborhood terrorized.
i am the immigrant looking for work,
i am the crops left rotting in the fields...
i am the bedpan changer, the floor sweeper,
and the emergency room nurse...
i am the single mom,
food stamps, and no work...
the young man who drives
the old woman out to vote.
i am the balled up fist,
the set lip, the phallic rose...
i am America exploding!
i am, become...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Swollen (Chapter Two)
she drove across town,
past the empty warehouses,
to a quiet neighborhood down
on the poor side.
she helped him into the house,
past the foreclosure notice
on the door. there were no
lights, and it was cold.
in the little room at the back
of the house she lit a candle.
she helped him to a chair.
he heard a rustling in the corner.
she walked over and picked the baby
up and held him close.
he could see the blood crusting
on her lips in the half light,
the bruises under her eyes.
'mister, i have to feed the baby,
i dont have anything to offer you...'
they made small talk as she fed the
baby. she'd lost her job, and they'd
been evicted from her apartment. she
had no family, and nowhere to go for help.
the baby's daddy was in prison.
she was an ex-addict. had been straight
since before she was pregnant. lately,
she'd turned a couple tricks for food money.
she hoped no one knew they were staying here.
but it was just a matter of time...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Common Ground
Written by neil diamond, tom hensley, and alan lindgren
If you love me,
Say you love me.
These are words we find hard to share.
Would you trust me?
Could I trust you?
Will you always want me there?
Or is this just some game called nothin goes right?
Is this just me to blame
For making these endless nights?
And who do we think we are,
Some kind of cosmic shooting stars?
No were not.
Havent got all that time.
Got to find a common ground,
Not the other way around
For you and i.
We need to walk on common ground.
We need to make a lovin sound.
While we got time,
We got to try.
Were you loving?
Was I caring?
These are feelings too hard to measure.
Ill be loving.
You be caring.
Will it always feel this way?
Or will we find the way to make it alright?
Will that sun come someday
To wake up this endless night?
And who do we think we are,
Some kind of cosmic shooting stars?
No, were not.
Havent got all that time.
Looking for a common ground,
Not the other way around
For you and i.
Got to find a common ground.
Need to make a lovin sound
While we got time,
You and i.
And we still have the time to make it work right,
Make that sun come to shine
And wake up this endless night.
And who do we think we are,
Some kind of cosmic shooting stars?
No were not.
Havent got all that time.
Got to find a common ground,
Not the other way around,
You and i.
Got to walk on common ground.
Got to make some lovin sounds.
We got time to look for some common ground,
Find a lovin sound,
You and i.
Lookin for a common ground,
Not the other way around
For you and i.
Got to walk on common ground,
You and i.
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Price Of Dead Love
His marriage is over but he has no tears
For the woman he was married to for just over two years
Though he miss his baby daughter when he comes home from work at night
In his marriage she was his one source of delight.
She is with his ex wife her mother who lives with her new man
And for him in her life his ex has only one plan
That he pay his alimony to her on Friday of every week
They no longer have common ground on which to speak.
On their wedding day he thought 'twould be for life
He was so in love with his beautiful wife
But just after two years of marriage love between them is dead
That the ways of love can be fickle no truer words said.
That his ex wife has left him for another he finds that as okay
But he misses his baby daughter when he comes home from work every day
That life has it's ups and downs it's always been this way
And the price of dead love it can be high to pay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To A Stuffed Shirt
On the tide you ride head high,
Like a whale 'mid little fishes;
I should envy you as I
Help my wife to wash the dishes.
Yet frock-coat and stove-pipe hat
Cannot hide your folds of fat.
You are reckoned a success,
And the public praise you win;
There's your picture in the Press,
Pouchy eyes and triple chin.
Wealth,--of it you fairly stink;
Health,--what does your Doctor think?
Dignity is phoney stuff.
Who is dignified deep down?
Strip the pants off, call the bluff,
Common clay are king and clown.
Let a bulging belly be
Your best bid for dignity.
Miserable millionaire!
For indulgence you must pay.
Yet there's salvation in prayer,--
Down on your fat knees and pray.
Know that with your dying breath
There is dignity in death.
poem by Robert William Service
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Common, Love is on
I wrote this poem long before I met you
Because I knew one day I will meet you
You are my perfect one
You are my brightest sun
Common, Common, Love is on
We can give each other joy and fun
I wrote you into my life
As my one-and-only beautiful one
And while the young night strives on
I urge this strong feeling to survive for long
I would like to dance with you
And enhance my steps of romance with you
Common, Common, Love is on
Grab this feeling and let’s run
Let’s catch the morning sun
Let’s sing out a love song turn by turn
And if love is a definite con
Then this tender moment has just been infinitely born
Copyright 2012 - Sylvia Lovina Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Dignity
Fat man lookin in a blade of steel
Thin man lookin at his last meal
Hollow man lookin in a cottonfield
For dignity
Wise man lookin in a blade of grass
Young man lookin in the shadows that pass
Poor man lookin through painted glass
For dignity
Somebody got murdered on new years eve
Somebody said dignity was the first to leave
I went into the city, went into the town
Went into the land of the midnight sun
Searchin high, searchin low
Searchin everywhere I know
Askin the cops wherever I go
Have you seen dignity?
Blind man breakin out of a trance
Puts both his hands in the pockets of chance
Hopin to find one circumstance
Of dignity
I went to the wedding of mary-lou
She said i dont want nobody see me talkin to you? br> said she could get killed if she told me what she knew
About dignity
I went down where the vultures feed
I wouldve got deeper, but there wasnt any need
Heard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men
Wasnt any difference to me
Chilly wind sharp as a razor blade
House on fire, debts unpaid
Gonna stand at the window, gonna ask the maid
Have you seen dignity?
Drinkin man listens to the voice he hears
In a crowded room full of covered up mirrors
Lookin into the lost forgotten years
For dignity
Met prince phillip at the home of the blues
Said hed give me information if his name wasnt used
He wanted money up front, said he was abused
By dignity
Footprints runnin cross the sliver sand
Steps goin down into tattoo land
I met the sons of darkness and the sons of light
In the bordertowns of despair
Got no place to fade, got no coat
Im on the rollin river in a jerkin boat
Tryin to read a note somebody wrote
About dignity
Sick man lookin for the doctors cure
Lookin at his hands for the lines that were
And into every masterpiece of literature
For dignity
Englishman stranded in the blackheart wind
Combin his hair back, his future looks thin
Bites the bullet and he looks within
For dignity
Someone showed me a picture and I just laughed
Dignity never been photographed
I went into the red, went into the black
Into the valley of dry bone dreams
So many roads, so much at stake
So many dead ends, Im at the edge of the lake
Sometimes I wonder what its gonna take
To find dignity
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am.... (Hand Of Silence)
i am the fire raging out of control,
the blade of the shadow on poverty's neck.
the broken sound when no one can hear,
the cold feel of the gallows,
the wings of the dead bird.
i am the raccoon trapped,
and the fury of loss.
i am the waiting that kills,
moment by moment.
i am the hand too tired to touch,
the baby just born that no one wants.
i am the ribs showing on the starving child,
the refugee fleeing with nowhere to go.
the smell of despair at the county dump,
the apartment without curtains or furniture.
i am the soldier killed who hesitated with conscience.
i am the prisoner afraid of both detention and freedom.
the young gay teenager who hangs himself,
the pregnant girl who takes too many pills.
i am the protester beaten and left on the sidewalk,
the old man alone without food or heat.
i am the touch of Jesus in the addict's eyes,
the street bum sleeping in the alley.
i am the farmer whose farm was taken,
the family left without a home.
the 40 year worker in the unemployment line,
the young girl taken and sold as a whore.
i am the Buddhist monk who sets himself on fire,
the rebel imprisoned for speaking the truth.
i am the millions of young who cant afford school,
the millions of workers who cant afford insurance.
i am the immigrant deported,
whose family has no chance.
the young mother caught stealing food.
i am the morals hidden by despair and anger,
the conscience of the poor holding the gun.
i am the color of skin covered with blood,
the face of god in strays of all kinds.
i am the Buddha weeping,
the body of suffering....
the hand of silence covering the grave.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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
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You Feel Sad And Down
You feel sad and down life is not always fair
And of hope for the future you are in despair
In that you are not alone people like you everywhere
But when the going gets tough the tough hang in there
'Life is not meant to be easy' according to George Bernard Shaw
Though on life your own conclusions you can draw
Life is never easy for those on the poor side of the town
Where many do only know of ill renown
The victims of poverty due to birth circumstance
At any success in life they do stand little chance
Out of work and the economy at present doing quite bad
But at least you were born to a good mum and dad
And you've never once been to Poverty Street
Where many are Homeless without food to eat.
poem by Francis Duggan
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“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
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The Human Will Never Ceases To Surprise
'Tis hard to keep a good woman or man down
Even the one born on the poorest side of the town
Above the most dire poverty has been known to rise
The human will never ceases to surprise
You've heard about the female billionaire
By circumstance of birth she was not treated fair
A poor child of the poor side of the town
Like 'tis said 'tis hard to keep a good one down
Suppose it is in our life's destiny
That even from the depths of poverty
That one will rise and scale the heights of fame
And the once poor one becomes a celebrated name
Though to rise above poverty one does need
Great self belief as well as the will to succeed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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What Life Demands I Be!
if i wake up in the morning,
and the guns of war are silent.
if the hungry bowls are filled,
and the homeless have a place to lay down.
if all people are treated equally,
regardless of color, religion, or beliefs.
if dignity be restored to the common man.
if men and women respect each other,
and the art of living is just that.
if forgiveness comes as easy as breathing,
and caring becomes the way...
then i will know this journey is over,
and will lay down in perfect peace.
if not....
i will wake up standing,
fighting, believing, singing....
i will be what life demands i be!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I'm Not Going
SteI'm not going - No, no not me
How can you run from a tragedy
I'm not going - No, no not me
So what if you got a Ph.D.
Take a look around - You'll end up in the ground
Cut in the prime of youth, slain 'cause you tell the truth
I't a mess to confess, to be young and free
Unless you hold on to your dignity
The days are short - the night are long
In the field with the beast - I do not belong
I'm sticking to my attitude
Don't take me for a common dude
Stripped from home I won't allow
The vote's any second now
I'm not going - they wanna hear
Yes, yes take me
Protect me from this - my family I'll miss
It's not for me to fight
Those that I don't know
I love who I am - I'll change if I go
Corruption's in my neighborhood
The men in blue, don't think I'm good
I dress like any other guy
The guestion is to live of die
I can tell we're in hell, dipped in genocide
No shelter for those, to run and hide
Protest those who have authority
Death's not a threat, that's made by me
My brother's on the front line
My sister's on the front line
To volunteer your self pride
Can bring you back
A changed mind
song performed by by 24-7 Spyz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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