In The Wind....
darkness and light,
thunder and growl.
souls on the altar,
wings on the ground.
death and desire,
naked and hungry.
prayers spoken by eyes,
tears shed by hands.
Abraxas, broken windows,
both sun and the night.
murder and compassion,
theft and sacrifice.
clocks stopped by fire,
graves opened left bare.
snowfall in august,
bare trees mourn in wait.
and the voices, still the voices,
faces wearing names.
hands desperate grasping,
footprints left in the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A silent murder
A silent murder
A whispering grave
Voices are spoken
But they all fade away
Left all alone
In this forsaken home
Pictures we'll bare
Lost long voices we'll share
Broken memories of the past
Where too good to last
So pack up your bags
This is your last chance
Voices we long to hear
Are crackled, unclear
And faces we miss
Are long lost in the mist
New people we will meet
Eyes don't leave our feet
For memories from our past
Were built strong, to forever last
Frame your past
Shatter your future
Lose yourself in the moment
Lose yourself in the past
Twisted lives, will forever last
Frame your past
Jump inside
Hate the moment
So feed me more lies
poem by Shannon daffsdffjk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One More
Wicked prophets kill... speaking his name
In the glory of an innocent age
A king is born to a house filled with rage
One mans fear is another mans truth, one fear
The blind suffer at the hands of sin
Lines are drawn where the boundaries begin
Ten thousand broken, by the madness within
Broken
One more, cry in the night... one more
One more, war left to fight ...one more
One life, cut down by fire
Once childs, angry desire... one more
Hearts of stone, pride without shame
Wicked prophets, kill while speaking his name
As the heavens, fall from the sky
Fallin
Brother to brother, blood on their hands
Desolation in the kingdom of man
Holy vengeance is the justice of hell
Mercy, mercy
One more, cry in the night... one more
One more, war left to fight ...one more
One life, cut down by fire
Once childs, angry desire... one more
Wings of fire... drums of thunder
No more, no more
One more, cry in the night... one more
One more was, was left to fight... one more
One life, cut down by fire
One childs angry desire... one more
One more, one
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nowhere Left To Stand!
angels made of dust,
stray dogs, homeless children.
righteousness invades,
who forgives the forgiven?
the hands on the clock prophesy,
and the darkness demands.
god stares back from the mirror,
moves with human hands.
empty houses on fire,
empty hearts strike with fear.
and all that remains,
words spoken, unseen tears.
pay the cost of the choice,
pay the price of a life.
but you cannot learn to live,
till you learn how to die!
faces without names,
names written in the sand.
praying for deliverance,
with nowhere left to stand.
when hatred takes form,
the identity revealed.
what we cannot bear to touch,
and wont admit we feel.
the candle burns on the table,
the self walks before.
we have to free ourselves,
before we unlock the door!
faces without names,
names written in the sand.
praying for deliverance,
with nowhere left to stand!
praying for deliverance,
with nowhere left to stand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'll Be Around
i'll be around...
in the wind that rustles your curtains,
in the whisper of darkness that taunts the moonlight.
in the silence that roars, and is then still...
in the prayers that children do not understand,
in the dying old man's aloneness.
in the blood that testifies against the hands,
in the hands that cannot escape the heart.
in the feet walking by their own will,
in the soul scarred by mistakes.
in the hungry mouth and the desperate eyes
that have seen and known too much.
in the fear that comes in the middle of the night,
and the dawn that never seems to come.
in the need to worship and the faith to act,
in the doubt that destroys false idols.
in the pound of the guns, the cries for help,
and the fire that has no favorites.
in the defiant stand, feet set firm,
the mark of the chains on backs and wrists.
in the freedom that does not buy and sell,
that sees beneath the skin.
in the constant dialogue of 'i and thou',
in the me that disperses and dissolves.
in the hammer, the saw, and the shovel,
in the grasses beneath bare feet.
in the song of the whipporwill,
and the final hoot of the owl.
in the howling of wolves,
and the sleepy stillness of the cattle.
in the hidden depths of your heart,
and the quiet darkness that forms your thoughts.
in the grain of the tree just cut,
and the rhythm of the fire going dead.
in every voice that cries for justice,
in every hand that reaches for help!
in the working hum of common thread,
in the simple dignity of the family.
in the ghosts of soldiers lost in battle,
in the weeping of mothers over their graves.
and in the constant courage of the peacemakers,
the voice of reason and compassion.
in the truth that all men are equal...
in the bridge from here to there!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By A Thousand Doors
perhaps now this ark is finished,
i can smell the distant dawn.
the light against the window be no stranger,
nor the sound of bare feet in the night.
the crows gather neath the pine tree,
as the wind prepares to die.
voices fallen from the trees,
mine a cloud, a branch, a stone.
it seems tonight the stars finally answer,
all this time i thought i was alone.
a child is born, a life is taken,
streetlights blink in perfect time.
while redemption sleeps in alleys,
and poets silently sweep.
the heart revealed no longer journeys,
for the destination be now the feet.
the tears of god gleam in the darkness,
a stranger's kiss, a soldier's prayer.
infidels gather jewels cast aside,
feed the hungry with human souls.
the song wrapped in plain brown paper,
left by a thousand doors!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song of the Beasts
(Sung, on one night, in the cities, in the darkness.)
Come away! Come away!
Ye are sober and dull through the common day,
But now it is night!
It is shameful night, and God is asleep!
(Have you not felt the quick fires that creep
Through the hungry flesh, and the lust of delight,
And hot secrets of dreams that day cannot say?). . . .
. . .The house is dumb;
The night calls out to you. . . Come, ah, come!
Down the dim stairs, through the creaking door,
Naked, crawling on hands and feet
- It is meet! it is meet!
Ye are men no longer, but less and more,
Beast and God. . . . Down the lampless street,
By little black ways, and secret places,
In the darkness and mire,
Faint laughter around, and evil faces
By the star-glint seen - ah! follow with us!
For the darkness whispers a blind desire,
And the fingers of night are amorous.
Keep close as we speed,
Though mad whispers woo you, and hot hands cling,
And the touch and the smell of bare flesh sting,
Soft flank by your flank, and side brushing side -
Tonight never heed!
Unswerving and silent follow with me,
Till the city ends sheer,
And the crook'd lanes open wide,
Out of the voices of night,
Beyond lust and fear,
To the level waters of moonlight,
To the level waters, quiet and clear,
To the black unresting plains of the calling sea.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1906)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Hands Of Time!
the hands of a small child,
shaping sand on the beach.
the flutter of wings,
a sparrow's first flight.
seeds planted by hand
in the fresh plowed ground.
the light teasing shadows,
late afternoon to night.
the war hero's silence,
his eyes grown hard.
the family burying the child,
the mother cannot weep.
the hungry stare
of poverty's stink.
the addict's hard edge,
bare rooms, bare walls.
the hanging tree,
and the lovers oak.
the bullet in the chamber,
and the open mission.
the church locked empty,
boxes to beds in the alley.
the old man who cant forgive
what the young boy did.
the hands of a small child...
the hands of time!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears That Jesus Shed # 2
roaches run across the floors,
bars on windows, locked doors,
walls trembling with hungry fear.
tv's in a bare room,
gotta come down soon,
or go find the cure.
baby's crying hungry,
you aint got the money,
there's bruises on your face.
steal a car, rob a store,
got nothing left to live for,
disappear without a trace.
stamp the numbers on your head.
you're just one of the living dead.
one of the tears that Jesus shed....
one of the tears that Jesus shed!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To have a feel of my food
To have the feel of my food not just the taste of it in my tongue
I use my bare hands, the rice I fold between my palms the fish
I touch with my fingers, and then my mouth opens to swallow and savor
Just like you tonight, I feel you with my bare hands I taste you
With my tongue because you are the food of my soul and my soul
Feeds on you as you also feed on mine
We are bare all over, not just our bare hands
We touch we feel we lick we breath with our noses
On our skins, we feed on our flesh, we go deeper
Into our souls, our eyes feast on the food we lay in front of us
The lights of our eyes open in our room the festivity to a beginning
We feed on ourselves we are hungry & greedy & we are never full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting For The Storm
snow birds screeching in the trees,
bare limbs bent with time and promise..
desolate, hungry clouds from the south,
and the quiet before the storm.
and those i love are sleeping, or far away.
there's nothing that can be done just now.
all the fires and smoke are as distant
as hours and days will allow.
stillness, and waiting... for something
that hasnt taken form or spirit yet.
walking through the museum of my heart,
searching for answers, and finality.
i cant find God in the garden,
or in the pounding of the big guns.
or in the broken bodies strewn by greed,
or in the voices wailing with hurt and hunger.
every direction leads to lostness.
prayers fall like ash in the wind.
and i'm left with the sound of the
snow birds calling, waiting for the storm.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Human Statement!
i dont do churches
with stained glass windows
and pews, and copper plates
held by hands beckoning salvation...
my church is lined by trees,
with great rolling hills,
wild animals roam freely,
birds fly overhead!
i dont do dogma,
hellfire and damnation....
we speak compassion
with silent voices!
our prayers are hands,
reaching out to help,
with eyes that see sameness,
and hearts that have ears....
knowing that we are what
we do and have done....
there is no coincidence,
nothing happens by chance.
if you want to know that
God is real, if you want
to see God...
look in the eyes
of another human being!
the path to salvation,
the path to being human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance Naked
go to the burning bush,
and touch!
walk across the sea
that has been divided.
put your hand on the cave walls
and feel the etchings.
jump into the Mayan pool
of sacrifice!
sit among the unmarked graves
of soldiers killed in battles,
reading poetry to the souls
lost to the violent storm.
dive for the ruins of Atlantis,
for the memory before memory.
stand in stillness at Stonehenge,
listen for voices in the wind.
feed the hungry! heal the sick!
free the oppressed....
stand in the face of life,
bare your teeth, and howl!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conversations With Hune
who names the flower a flower,
and the weed a weed?
and are not names
cardboard boxes
meant for the fire?
from the womb of darkness,
the sun reborn again and again...
each time with different faces,
different fingers, different hands...
or perhaps we see with different eyes!
do we speak the truth?
or doth the truth speak us?
perhaps 'we' are an illusion,
and there be only truth.
or perhaps truth is an illusion...
and we are only what we are...
what we are...
nameless particles of namelessness...
forms of the formless,
formless by nature.
words spoken by word,
or not spoken at all...
leaves fallen from the tree,
nests of straw left empty...
the sound one wing makes without the other,
the way air cries beaten by wings...
the sound the tree makes
when cut through by the saw...
the scream as it falls!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Changed
My life was
Turned over
By a girl that I met
In first grade
She was my friend,
She helped me
When I needed it
But my life was
Changed
By a girl that I met
That stayed for a while
She left footprints on my heart
And my soul
She left footprints
Left steps
Left hands
Put together-
From all different cultures, not one the same
But when you look deep down
The people that owned them were as different as left hands
And right hands
So I placed my hand in hers
And I felt that the world was on my side
L'An Trentiesme De Mon Eage
And I have come upon this place
By lost ways, by a nod, by words,
By faces, by an old man's face
At Morlaix lifted to the birds,
By hands upon the tablecloth
At Aldebori's, by the thin
Child's hands that opened to the moth
And let the flutter of the moonlight in,
By hands, by voices, by the voice
Of Mrs. Whitman on the stair,
By Margaret's 'If we had the choice
To choose or not - 'through her thick hair,
By voices, by the creak and fall
Of footsteps on the upper floor,
By silence waiting in the hall
Between the doorbell and the door,
By words, by voices, a lost way - ,
And here above the chimney stack
The unknown constellations sway -
And by what way shall I go back?
poem by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Blitz
I stared in silent wonder,
As autumn rolled in like thunder-
And in a lightening's flash,
Started my world on fire!
The trees burned brightly in,
Sunset and smokey grey hues-
The leaves lept down from the trees,
And quickly spread the news!
The wind whistled through the woods,
And swept the ground-
And wailed!
It tickled the grass,
And seized the leaves-
And up!
And away, they sailed!
Leafy flames,
Of vibrant flare-
Lept up here!
And, over there!
The fire,
It stripped the trees-
Leaving them cold,
And bare!
Then the wind,
It hummed...
And the fire,
It died down.
All of nature,
Was now beautifully crowned.
The wind-
It let out a sigh,
It shuddered-
Then it died.
There was heared no sound,
For the fire had passed.
No hint of it,
Was left to last-
But the embers which blanketed the floor.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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Dropping By Your House This Morning
i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may
but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep
the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass
there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night
i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's
the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take On The World
You got to leave your seat, you gotta get up upon your feet,
Youre gonna move ya to the rhythm till you never can stop.
We got the power, we got the music, and you bet that you can use it,
Were gonna take rock-bottom, were gonna take it to the top.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Move a little nearer, you know you gotta follow your leaders,
As we need you, like you need us for sure.
Were gonna drive you, were gonna ride you,
Were gonna get right inside you,
And if you wanna keep going, just shout out for more!
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Sing your song, well listen to you.
Sing your song, the spotlights are you.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Standing At The Altar
Performed by margie cox
Composed by prince
Why?
I got the news just yesterday
They said u up and ran away
All because of what somebody said
I spent my wedding night alone in bed
Cuz u left me standing at the altar
U left big tears in my eyes (tears in my eyes)
U didnt even stop 2 ask me who, what or where or why
Ever since the day that we first met
Everybody been jealous as they could get (they could get)
People sayin this and sayin that (sayin that)
Struck us, struck us out before we even got 2 bat
Hey, u left me standing at the altar
U left big tears in my eyes (tears in my eyes)
U didnt even stop 2 ask me who, what or where or why
How could u do this, how could u leave?
When u knew how much u meant 2 me (u meant 2 me)
I gave 2 u more than Ive given any friend
Just 2 have u give it all back in the end
U left my poor heart broken
U left my world in a daze (in a daze)
If I could, Id write a letter 2 u
But I dont know what 2 say, I dont know what 2 say
I got the news just yesterday
They said u up and ran away
If theres a God way up above
One day ull have 2 answer 2 him 4 my love
U left me standing at the altar
U left big tears in my eyes
U didnt even stop 2 ask me who, what or where or why
U left my poor heart broken
U left my world in a daze (in a daze)
If I could, Id write a letter 2 u
But I dont know what 2 say, I dont know what 2 say
(u left me standing at the altar)
U better stop doggin me baby, yeah
I cant take it no more
I cant take it no more, baby
(u left my poor heart broken)
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voices Inherit The Wind
The lingering shadows of those
who are gone from our grasp
bring comfort to those
who had to say behind.
Their voices inherit the wind
on cold and lonely nights.
Their voices can be heard
telling us everything is all right
when the shadows of loneliness
fall across our sight.
Our weeping call to come back
is answered in the wind
and the shaking branches
touched by a breeze.
Candles were lit to show us the way
when the clouds of darkness surround
and the voices inheriting the wind compound.
We walk with eyes blinded
into an eternal light
to be consumed within.
No one knows our boundaries
when angels take flight
and we only go when we are ready
to face the eternal night.
Those we left have no fear
we maybe gone, but we are still here.
Our voices inherit the wind on dark blustery nights.
We are those fleeting shadows
you catch from the corner of your eye.
We seek not to alarm you,
just to guide you along,
we are your past nudging you
into the future where you belong.
28 March 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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