More Than Anything!
more than anything....
i want people to be free!
everybody, everywhere....
joined together as one,
feeling the tide come and go,
on sands that do not grasp!
more than anything,
i want to be the rain
that falls after the drought....
the snow that wraps the beaten earth
in the blanket of newness, and hope.
more than anything...
i want to be the cup...
the hammer and the nails,
the bowl of rice, the tent,
the fire that those cold gather round....
more than anything,
i want to be the steps,
the bridge, and the lighthouse....
whatever you need on the path,
that leads you home to freedom!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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A Bowl Of Rice
sad, but true...
for so many
people in this world
redemption is
a bowl of rice,
and a tent that doesnt leak...
what do you believe in?
what do you hope for?
do you believe enough
to make an effort?
a bowl of rice,
and a tent that doesnt leak!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont

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Strike Me (And Be Done)
if i am a bridge,
i need to feel your feet
on my back...
if i am a walking stick,
keep me with you
on your journey.
if i am a blanket,
cover yourself against
the cold night...
if i am a bowl, a spoon,
the soup, and the taste...
fill your empty stomach!
if i am dead branches,
gather me for the fire.
if i am a match,
strike me, and be done.
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Big Storm, The Rain Falls
The rain falls like leaves and snow.
It stutters and mutters
And bounces and flows.
The rain falls like a big black crow,
Flapping and cawing
And thrashing and crashing.
The rain falls like spades of earth
Tossed on the grave of summer mirth.
The rain falls like a magic spell:
Billions of droplets singing their songs.
The rain falls like a lover's kisses,
Wet on the flesh of the trembling earth.
The rain falls like a forest of time,
Shimmering seconds, liquid and cold.
The rain falls like an ancient story,
Trickling on roots, twisted and old.
poem by Norm Milstein

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The Winter Love
Such a cold was in january.
In december love had come vainly.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet falls
Down on earth.
Snow is on the streets,
Snow's in wood.
Snow in words I hear,
In your eyes, too.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet falls
Down on earth.
You are saying: 'Bye'
To me now.
And I hear your voice
Icy, round.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet falls
Down on earth.
And the oaths
are cold
In winter time.
I'll wait for long
The spring love.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet, falls
Down on earth.
poem by Robert Rozhdestvensky, translated by Lyudmila Purgina

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Sonnet 10
How darkly o'er yon far-off mountain frowns
The gather'd tempest! from that lurid cloud
The deep-voiced thunders roll, aweful and loud
Tho' distant; while upon the misty downs
Fast falls in shadowy streaks the pelting rain.
I never saw so terrible a storm!
Perhaps some way-worn traveller in vain
Wraps his torn raiment round his shivering form
Cold even as Hope within him! I the while
Pause me in sadness tho' the sunbeams smile
Cheerily round me. Ah that thus my lot
Might be with Peace and Solitude assign'd,
Where I might from some little quiet cot,
Sigh for the crimes and miseries of mankind!
poem by Robert Southey

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Only The Bowl!
i am only the bowl!
i am not the rice.
i am not the fire.
i am not the rain,
nor the sun that gave.
i am not the fertile earth.
i am not the human hands
that gathered, that prepared...
i am not even the hand that offers.
i am not the table, not the chair,
i am not the spoon.
when day is done,
and my place is known...
i am only the bowl!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Footprints
Its beautiful outside, an old hand gathers wood,
Can he see me sitting here? his mind is somewhere else.
His friend have flown away, hes left out in the cold.
He wont sit by my fire, he says he likes it in the snow.
Where footprints never go, he likes it in the snow.
Its getting dark outside, the old hands going home,
Has he someone waiting there? or is he living on his own?
Where footprints never go, he likes it in the snow...
White blanket, hiding the traces of tears she didnt see,
Oh white blanket covers the memory
Of all that used to be. all that used to be.
But his heart keeps aching in the same old way,
He cant help feeling that she might come back someday.
Its beautiful outside, a magpie looks for food.
The old hand throws a crumb,
Do you think hes found a friend?
Where footprints never go, he likes it in the snow...
White blanket, hiding the traces of paths he didnt take
Oh white blanket covers the memory
Of moves he didnt make
Oh white blanket, hiding the traces of tears she didnt see
Snow white blanket simply covers the memory
Of all that used to be.
But his heart keeps aching in the same old way
He cant help feeling that she might come back someday.
song performed by by Paul McCartney

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Bound
Bound
By: Adam M. Snow
'Bound, ' a word I fear when all thing's near,
my past, myself I choose to hide.
But of bound, my fear drawing near; my world I denied.
Is there no hope? My life is bound, my life's profound still I hide.
I long for freedom I cannot grasp.
To have you understand, now while I clasp my truth I dare not speak.
Why can't I love with shadows covering?
Just for once, the feeling of free; my path before me, broken.
My arms, my legs both strapped to this pedestal whom I called life;
my eyes blinded by strife.
My tongue cut out before me so I may see,
there's no hope for me yet; but I regret it all.
poem by Adam M. Snow

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Capture The Moment
Snow on the hilltops
All night and day
There was snow
And the whiteness turned
In some places
With long steps
Tired steps
Of someone
Carrying
The burden of his life
Besides warm clothing
And some worn out shoes
Socks those were fuming
For the wet sock
Why not seek love in hills
Covered with snow
Why a beloved is not born here
And why there is not
A mad man of the snows
Snow is not as cold
There is intense heat inside
And the beloveds of the snow
Let’s sing for them tonight
Let’s tell them to lit heavy fire
Let those chimneys emit smoke
Smoke the symbol of hope
And the fire burning
The smell of baking food
And the sweetness of the beloved’s
Warmth
Let us invent a story of love
As the hills covered with snow
And the pine trees carrying the weight of snow
Bent down
And the distant houses
All covered with a thick white blanket
Sleeping
And some young girls
Making breads and hot tea for the loved ones
In the early morning
As more snow
Rains from the skies
poem by Sadiqullah Khan

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The Beautiful Traits of the Rain
From the scents I know since my birth,
Rain's one is probably the oldest,
And near it all others bear dearth
In willing having rain's scent to best,
For rain's scent is sweetest in Earth,
It is creation of Earth's very breast,
From the sounds I reckon since creation,
Rain's one is probably most intimate,
For its singing fills me with a sensation
So seething, so kind and so great,
Yet so incomprehensible motivation,
That can calm my most burning hate,
I don't need a place to set,
For when rain falls then I'm at home,
And all my troubles I forget,
As long as the drops don't stop to come,
And the grass is kept wet,
And the cold air keeps me dumb,
I don't know how to explain this feeling,
Or why it is so important to me,
Neither why rain is the power of healing,
That I needed something to be,
Or why rain is so appealing,
Nor why it makes me feel free,
poem by Pedro Cescon

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As The Snow Falls (song)
As the rain falls down,
It turns to snow.
As the snow falls down,
It hits the ground.
You look outside,
And it’s a sheet of white.
So you think,
Oh what a beautiful night.
The fire is warm,
And the coco too.
And you wonder,
What is next to do?
Looking outside,
All you see is white,
And stars in the sky…ayyy.
The stars are falling,
The stars are falling,
And they cover the ground.
The snow has fallen,
Snow has fallen,
And it covers the ground.
You sit there,
Lookin’ out your window,
Sippin’ on your coco. Oh
Watching as the rain falls down-
The snow falls down-
The stars fall down.
And you see,
All of natures beauty.
The rain falls down,
And it turns to snow.
The snow falls down,
And it hits the ground.
Lookin’ outside,
And it’s a sheet of white.
you bundle up,
and step outside.
standing in the cold,
you look around.
its all so calm and still.
Oh there’s not a single sound.
It’s a silent night,
Oh what a sight.
Snow covers the trees,
So beautiful to see.
Back inside you go
To the fire you stand,
With coco in hand.
You’re cozy and warm,
All alone.
It’s getting late,
So you sleep the night away.
As the rain fell down,
It turned to snow.
As the snow fell down,
It hit the ground.
And the sheet of white,
It disappeared.
The next day you wake,
And the beauty is gone.
The morning sun,
Thawed the lawn.
And the snowy wondrous night is done.
poem by Tessa Monaghan

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Unbroken sunshine leads to deserts
Unbroken sunshine leads to deserts
And endless dunes across the soul
Yet the storms that blow from God above
Help make us whole, and that with love
For man will always take the path
Of least resistance to his flesh
He runs to pride and from the meek
To God confess, the humble seek
To walk with God is to walk through fire
And beds of coal beneath our feet
Through every mountain pass and valleys
And desert heat and darkened alleys
Unless the seed falls to the ground
And rain and storms have tilled the land
Then nothing grows and all is dead
No wheat shall stand, no one is fed
So embrace the storms and raging seas
And hail and snow and fallen trees
And fire and flood and rising tide
Will set you free, no more to hide
For if God is for me, I'll walk in peace
And His grace on me shall never cease
To mold and shape and create in me
The landscape that you now can see
poem by Frank McEleny

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Freedom and Beauty
It is a beautiful mind to feel free.
It is a beautiful feeling to set someone free.
Freedom is the hard statement to get.
Freedom is the only feeling to get.
*
Freedom is the statement that shows your independence.
Freedom is the power that shows your right.
But while speaking of almost 7 billion individuals on the earth
At least 7 billion needs and rights that might complicate their life.
*
Showing his independence might be more important for some people.
Feeling responsible for others may be more important for other people.
*
To be honest with you, i never felt free,
Because I didn’t know what it is.
After I realized what freedom is,
I saw how hard to recognize that you are free.
^
How hard to know that you are free to live.
How hard to know that you are free to speak.
How hard to know that you are free to love and trust.
How hard to know that you are free to be loved and trusted.
^
That what you have in your everyday life, is your freedom.
This is not just everyday schedule, that’s your freedom.
How blind are we to not see how free we are.
How ugly is it to not see how beautiful freedom is.
^
Freedom is beautiful, but hard to see.
Freedom is beautiful, but hard to feel.
poem by Sukhee Bukhbat

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The Last Assembly
As I walked to the last assembly,
There were tears in the back of my eyes,
And I saw all my friends all around me,
They were there to wish me goodbye.
As I stood in a line with my comrades,
I felt such a feeling of pride,
And I forgot all the grief and the hatred inside,
As we sang for the very last time.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
Come and join our last assembly,
Let us smile, wipe away all the frowns.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As we stood at the last assembly,
All my friends came to wish me goodbye.
Gather round, gather round,
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As I stand at the last assembly,
I just cant keep the tears from my eyes.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frankie's Trade
Old Horn to All Atlantic said:
(A-hay O! To me O!)
"Now where did Frankie learn his trade?
For he ran me down with a three-reef mains'I."
(All round the Horn!)
Atlantic answered:--"Not from me!
You'd better ask the cold North Sea,
For he ran me down under all plain canvas."
(All round the Horn!)
The North Sea answered: -- "He's my man,
For he came to me when he began--
Frankie Drake in an open coaster.
(All round the Sands!)
"I caught him young and I used him sore,
So you never shall startle Frankie more,
Without capsizing Earth and her waters.
(All round the Sands!)
"I did not favour him at all.
I made him pull and I made him haul--
And stand his trick with the common sailors.
(All round the Sands!)
"I froze him stiff and I fogged him blind,
And kicked him home with his road to find
By what he could see in a three-day snowy-storm.
(All round the Sands!)
"I learned him his trade o' winter nights,
'Twixt Mardyk Fort and Dunkirk lights,
On a five-knot tide with the forts a-firing.
(All round the Sands!)
"Before his beard began to shoot,
I showed him the length of the Spaniard's foot--
And I reckon he clapped the boot on it later.
(All round the Sands!)
"If there's a risk which you can make,
That's worse than he was used to take
Nigh every week in the way of his business;
(All round the Sands!)
"If there's a trick that you can try,
Which he hasn't met in time gone by,
Not once or twice, but ten times over;
(All round the Sands!)
"If you can teach him aught that's new,
(A-hay O! To me O!)
I'll give you Bruges and Niewport too,
And the ten tall churches that stand between
Storm along, my gallant Captains!
(All round the Horn!)
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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Freedom's Battle-Song
RED, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Stripes as red as blood well shed by many a hero gone.
Now 'tis ours to storm the towers of tyranny and wrong,
Freedom's sons who front the guns with Freedom's battle-song.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth,
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
Red, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
White as peace for whose release our fighting gear we don;
Peace enchained, crushed, profaned, shall yet in beauty stand,
Yet shall bless with fruitfulness her desolated land.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
Red, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Blue as skies whose starry eyes shall see our victory won.
Freedom's sons and champions, to her our hearts are true,
We who fight for Human Right, and the Red,
White, Blue.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly, the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth,
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates

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