I Am Nothing More...
i am nothing more
than an illiterate priest,
sharing table scraps
thrown out by the rich,
with mongrel dogs...
barking and howling,
and peeing on dreams,
in the alleys of the soul.
a blind plumber
fixing the leaks,
for a cola and a can of beans.
an old man sipping brandy
with tired ghosts,
a child left alone
with discovery!
i am the hand you reach for,
the face you cannot understand.
the tear you buried
on your angry pillow,
the prayer you stuffed in a bottle,
and put out to sea...
the kiss, and the scent
of hope!
i am nothing....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
In Exile, , ,
must poets live in exile?
strangers limping to the dance.
streetlights dancing on the lampshade,
thrown into the trash.
in conversations with rats,
sleeping with ghosts in empty buildings.
immigrants without papers,
pawning blood for a drink.
by fires on the fringe,
stirring the stew made of hope.
eyes blackened by the smoke,
laughing with small children.
painting revolution on sterile walls,
sharing bread with mongrel dogs.
lovers without a country,
homeless, going home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Plumbing (or) The Taming Of The Spew
He called to his wife, sounding, oh so, bereft
“Water just spewed right out of the sink
I just turned the faucet a bit to the left
It’s not my fault, I really don’t think”
The wife replied, “you go to work. I’ll call the plumber”
“Which one? ”, The wife’s husband did ask
“Don’t worry”, she said, “I have his number
The plumber best fit for the task”
The husband then left, as his job did come first
And she quickly got on the phone
She called up this man, the man of her thirst
The plumber with love undertone
He’d been there before, when her pipes needed fixing
When he laid right under the sink
With a large dose of grease, he gave them a slicking
This plumber sure was in the pink
When her husband came home, the spewing had ceased
He found all the plumber’s work done
She never let on just how well she’d been greased
Or how plumbing could be so much fun
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Man And Bottle
Just an empty brandy bottle by the door
An empty bottle standing on the floor
Last week 'twas worth a carpenter's day's pay
But now it isn't worth taking away.
Last week 'twas full of brandy to the top
But in it now there's not a single drop
Just like a candy box without the candy
What value a brandy bottle without brandy?
The man who drank the brandy he is dead
Like all dead men a pine box is his bed
He rests in peace where all dead people lay
Six foot under graveyard earth and clay.
He drank the brandy and then drove his car
But alas the poor man did not travel far
His car left the road and crashed against a tree
And with his life he paid for gluttony.
Next time you're in a bar and have to drive a car, do think
Hard liquor is a thing you ought not drink
Spare a thought for the poor man who drank the brandy
And ask the publican for a beer shandy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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That Jesus' Baby
'you know...
they buried that
Jesus' baby,
you know...
the one they found
in the dumpster,
down in the church cemetary
neath an unmarked stone...
the only ones
who came to mourn,
were three crows,
and two mongrel dogs...
the last prayer,
the falling rain! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Were There Hope
I was never in a league of noble gentlemen
To whom she'd cast polite and flitting smiles,
Only distant hope and dying dreams for me!
Or perhaps descent into a game of wiles
To give a chance of sipping wine on heady nights
With her angelic presence to declare;
Above, an aura playing out hypnotic hues,
And I in awe of blonde cascades of hair.
But no! my tiring soul is sinking in a mire
To haunt me for an age and evermore, for
How could I expect to hold her silken hand
When I am but a soulless ghost of yore?
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope, hope?
Hope?
Never
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Lost In Echo.....
you cut off my thumbs,
strung them on a necklace.
split my tongue with a razor,
and burned my shoes.
now i go howling,
in half darkened rooms.
drawn by the scent and the symphony,
of red pulsing blood!
you arched your back,
and the curtains trembled.
the vase full of water,
fell on your pillow.
i awoke from a dream,
my lips dry and aching.
moaned without thinking,
the willow bent, and sure!
who are we? the forgotten,
the silence lost in echo!
the tire worn thin,
the key left in the lock.
the bottle near empty,
on the edge of god's table...
the drum in the closet,
the nest blown by the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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
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The Table of Hope
Inspired by JOEY VELASCO'S painting, HAPAG NG PAG-ASA
(The Table Of Hope)
Thank you, Lord for this wonderful show
Of happy faces, sincere and true
Without asking why who we are, what we wear
Without doubts, without fear, without a tear
Here we are in your table, your children in the street
Celebrating your birthday in the simplest way
In your table of hope, sharing your food
Where your presence is what we're after
Christmas miracle do happen,
Because you wanted it to be
You choose us, the weak, the poor and the lame
To share with you, to be with you
In the table of hope..in the table of hope..
Thank you, Jesus, for giving us hope
Thank you, Jesus, for Christmas
Note: thank you for reading.You can search
and type Joey Velasco in the Google website & You Tube
and you will be led to his great paintings
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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History
I wander lonely streets
I wander lonely streets
Behind where the old thames does flow
Behind where the old thames does flow
And in every face I meet
And in every face I meet
Reminds me of what I have run from
Reminds me of what I have run from
In every man, in every hand
In every man, in every hand
In every kiss, you understand
In every kiss, you understand
That living is for other men
That living is for other men
I hope you two will understand
I hope you two will understand
Ive got to tell you my tale
Of how I loved and how I failed
Ive got to tell you my tale
I hope you understand
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand
Ive got to tell you my tale
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand
Ive got to tell you my tale
These feelings should not be in the man
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand
In every child, in every eye
These feelings should not be in the man
In every sky, above my head
I hope that I know
So come with me in bed
In every child, in every eye
Because its you and me, were history
In every sky, above my head
There aint nothing left to say
I hope that I know
When I will get you alone
So come with me in bed
Because its you and me, were history
Maybe we could find a room
There aint nothing left to say
Where we could see what we should do
When I will get you alone
Maybe you know its true
Living with me is like keeping a fool
Maybe we could find a room
In every man, in every hand
Where we could see what we should do
In every kiss, you understand
Maybe you know its true
That living is for other men
Living with me is like keeping a fool
I hope you know that I am me so come on
Im thinking about history
And Im living for history
In every man, in every hand
And I think you know about me
In every kiss, you understand
Cause I am
That living is for other men
I hope you know that I am me so come on
And one and one is two
Im thinking about history
But three is company
And Im living for history
When youre thinking about the things you do
And I think you know about me
And youre thinking about the things you do
Cause I am
I want to tell you my tale
How I fell in love and jumped out on my bail
I hope you understand theres more in a smile than in a hand
And one and one is two
In every sky, in every kiss
But three is company
Theres something that I might have missed
When youre thinking about the things you do
And youre thinking about the things you do
Why am I going to
I want to tell you my tale
A place that now belongs to you
How I fell in love and jumped out on my bail
But you were weak and so was i
I hope you understand theres more in a smile than in a hand
Lets pick it up, lets even try
In every sky, in every kiss
To live today, so why not smile
Theres something that I might have missed
Dont dream away your life cause it is mine
Is that a crime (repeat) this life is mine
The bed aint made but its filled full of hope
Why am I going to
Ive got a skin full of dope
A place that now belongs to you
But you were weak and so was i
Lets pick it up, lets even try
To live today, so why not smile
Dont dream away your life cause it is mine
Is that a crime (repeat) this life is mine
The bed aint made but its filled full of hope
Ive got a skin full of dope
song performed by by Verve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doomed Padre
The Loss of Faith
Fated priest when he walks in front of a funeral
procession his gait is often wobbly, says it is stiff
joints; smells of aftershave lotion and brandy.
Lost his faith years ago, in the night his prayer
echoes in the village church.
Thinks it his fault that god has left him in a vacuum
of disbelief a penance for not having a total godly
deference. In his dreams he meets god who speaks
in a language he doesn´t understand; he wakes up
bedroom bleak, and the voice of god has gone.
He says as Jesus once did, why have you forsaken me?
Has a brandy goes back to a restless sleep.
And there is no peace as sexual needs takes over,
actions he will not abide. Morning and he is thankful.
Routines of the day someone has died, funeral service,
and a woman who wants confess her banal sins,
he murmurs prayers, waits for god to answer why he
has lost his faith, but there is only silence.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Perhaps A Brandy
perhaps a brandy....
the shovel still caked with dirt,
the body restless, turns and groans.
the shade o'er the window
yellowed by mold,
the frail hands of the clock
do not move or whisper.
the scent of love,
lingers and stutters.
the fireplace empty,
the books weep on the shelf.
the old tree fallen
just outside your window,
the barking of dogs,
the prayers of rust.
children without faces
carry the box into the night...
the hoot of the owl,
another mockingbird dead!
moonlight, perhaps a lie,
even the stars remain distant.
nothing dressed in wrinkled clothes,
squats by the fire,
humming an ancient tune.
the spider's web reflected
on the oil tinged dew,
tastes like love remembered!
perhaps a brandy?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Kiss kiss and kiss
Kiss kiss kiss me again*
Afterwards kiss kiss kiss my thoughts*
Then kiss kiss kiss my spirit*
Still kiss kiss kiss my shadow*
Don't forget to kiss kiss kiss my hair*
Repeated again kiss kiss kiss my face*
I'wanted to be kiss kiss kiss by you my brow*
Don't forget to kiss kiss kiss my cheek*
Afterwards kiss kiss kiss ears and my nose*
I'will like if being kiss kiss kiss by you my heart*
More kiss kiss kiss my lips*
Don't forget kiss kiss kiss with the love*
Repeated still kiss kiss kiss in the hope that we *
I'wanted to be kiss kiss kiss by you before i'slept*
I'hoped was kiss kiss kiss by you when i'opened the eyes and got up from my dream*
I'will like if being kiss kiss kiss by you my wish*
Don't forget kiss kiss kiss with your loyalty*
Kiss kiss kiss was our prayer together in the love*
G(-_-) (-_-) D
I Am... (Tongue)
i am...
the tongue that sleeps inside the mouth.
the erection that falls on darkened alone.
the crack of thunder over distant hills.
the simple prayer of a child in need.
the whore, the thief, and the addict.
the liar who leads running from himself.
the young girl sold in the cattle stalls.
the shot fired before guilt could breathe.
the hammer, the nails, and hands that know.
the woman giving birth, her screams, her desire.
the fallen priest, and the migrant worker.
the truck loaded with a lifetime's ghosts.
the father, the mother, and the empty house.
the well run dry, the roof that leaks.
the willow tree, and the mockingbird.
the citizens killed by the armed squad.
the activist buried without a word.
the woman strong, the man bent and broken.
the tears of an unknown god
falling on the earth scorched and smoking!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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So Tired
Scent on a postcard
A memory left behind
Warm hand, cool look but no time...
Winsome lose some
Hung up on old flame
My heart depends on fire
So who am I to make demands on love?
...relax and walk on by
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Kiss the right faces
And tap the party line
Short measure of cheap skate pleasure
Easier said than done
Sip the night water
But not too drunk to say
Well just who am I to ever hope to love you?
Id turn and shy away
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Once upon a bed
You said you loved me
Once upon a bed
Those eyes of blue
Now what am I supposed to do?
So tired -
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Live my life alone, so alone
Once upon a bed
You said you loved me
Once upon a bed
Those eyes of blue
And what am I to rhyme with you?
Now I lie alone and so defenceless
Dream of love in sunny daze with you
So tired...
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fifty Eight Years
fifty eight years,
step after step...
pathways of stone,
of water, of wind...
no footprints behind.
small fires on dark nights,
waves of stillness opening...
the eyes of the breathing surround.
touch! touch!
echoing against the roar.
words sealed on paper
for future fires!
when scars become gifts
left on strangers' doorsteps...
for there are no strangers,
soul unto soul.
step after step,
rain falling softly.
smoke from the chimney,
hangs like a prayer.
face to face,
lips touching lips,
a small bag of dreams
left under a child's pillow.
fifty eight years.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Febbraio fogs
Winds are blowing a grievous fate,
it's cold upon our fingers and dark,
ghosts prey howling on lone hark,
we came in life, one verse too late.
Winds are barking like stray dogs,
alone I wait for your icon to appear,
from our deserted (once alive) Pier,
where you smiled in Febbraio fogs.
And it is strange to feel you there,
you never left the winds' lone call;
I feel the flow in my veins to haul,
a string of fables on nostalgic fare;
And you appear - half on my mind,
'n' half in distance, to fill my eyes,
gray clouds snow from low skies,
doleful turns our dusk and twined.
Night denotes the silence of snow,
so much quietness falls like death,
regales me in solitude of an eighth
oracle to elongate, our time's tow.
Harbinger moon will Spring to fore,
if you appear, my hope will shine,
a conferred love will wave to mine,
imparted winds will reach Pier Four.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Eating The Dogs Scraps
yesterday i brought home scraps for the dog and ate them
he watched me the whole time
i had dug hotdogs out of the garbage
brought them home
then i realized, 'when in Rome'
So i ate the dogs scraps
I ate the dogs scraps and i chewed em up right there
I ate the goddamn golf course leftovers i don't even care
Please Lord, for all my friends and family.
Please dont let me outlive this damn dog
I should've let the dog eat instead!
poem by jack Quehoff
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Brave Men! ! ! !
I like brave men
those who goes to war
and finally returned
share with us your visions
I like angry men
that dispute your honour and bravery
in a table of bar
sharing with us your strength
I like drunk men
that spit their stories and say obscene language
with your friends
sharing with us yours laughts
I like human men
that give all time
the best and the worst
and seal our hearts with a long kiss!
poem by Mirna Morgan
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When started somewhere with
that time i locked the door solely
to confirm between four walls,
that time dreams of aims evolved
sterile in my tiring eyes,
that time shuddering to different
masks hidding my face under a blanket,
that time i fought with
black tears,
that time when books were thrown
over my face,
that time daylights suggesting been
'soporific',
midnights suffocating, 'this day over',
'again is the same day',
that time i had been left all myself,
i stretched to this time,
'fate is a gambler,
time is no exilir,
life is my only teacher'!
to this time pen here
in my hand is howling louder
than someone knocking on that locked door
that time!
to this time hope in the wombs
of hatred thy inspired, pacifying
a time in my time!
poem by Swetha Vvr
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(Was I) In Your Dreams
Was I in your dreams, I'd like to know.
Did I touch your hand and did it feel like snow?
Try to understand while I've got you on the phone.
Did I hurt you like I know I can?
Tell me why you'd ever wanna leave your lovin' man.
Try to understand, please try to understand.
Was I in your dreams, was I in your dreams?
This dreamer died when his dreamed died too.
But I don't really mind if I dream about you..
I can't say what any of that means.
Oh, was I in your dreams, late last night.
Did you hold pillow, did you squeeze me tight?
I just wanna make everything all right.
Was I in your dreams, was I in your dreams, was I
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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