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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Related quotes
Faces & Names
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause trouble for me
Faces and names
If we all looked the same and we all had the same name
I wouldnt be jealous of you or you jealous of me
Faces and names
I always fall in love with someone who looks
The way I wish that I could be
Im always staring at someone who hurts
And the one they hurt is me
Faces and names, to me theyre all the same
If I looked like you and you looked like me
Thered be less trouble you see
Faces and names, I wish theyd go away
Id disappear into that wall and never talk
Talk, not talk
I wish I was a robot or a machine
Without a feeling or a thought
People who want to meet the name I have
Are always disappointed when they meet me
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause problems for me
Faces and names
Id rather be a hole in the wall
Looking out on the other side
Id rather look and listen, listen and not talk
To faces and names
If I had a breakdown when I was a kid
I lost my hair when I was young
If you dress older when youre not
As your really age you look the same
If we all looked the same, we wouldnt play these games
Me dressing for you and you dressing for me
Undressing for me
Faces and names, if they all were the same
You wouldnt be jealous of me or me jealous of you
Me jealous of you, me jealous of you
Your face and your name
Your face and your name
Faces and names
Faces and names
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kikwit Town
By michael mcdonald and chester thompson
From a house comes the sound of an infant crying
People stand and stare at the door
They dare not go in
Where a child lies sobbing beside a lifeless body
Trying in vain to awaken the mother within
This chain of death has so many faces
From the frightened man to the pitiful child
Where is our deliverance here?
Will this not pass over?
Chorus:
I wont go back to kikwit town
I wont go back
I wont go back to kikwit town
I wont go back
They would not give us my fathers body
The men in orange suits started gathering round
They asked the names of all who live here
As they threw him down in hole and burned his house down
What have we done to deserve this?
Gods wrath has surely come
He lets the devil walk among us
He lets death into our homes
Where is our deliverance here
From this demon loosed upon us?
Chorus:
Is it not enough we live in this squalor?
Is it not enough these sacrifices we make?
Are we not entitled to some mercy
On this short journey we take?
Chorus:
They said come down and answer all our questions
Its best for all if I turn myself in
But I know as sure as I walk through that hospital door
I will never see daylight again
What have we done to deserve this?
Gods wrath has surely come
He lets the devil walk among us
He lets death into our homes
Where is our deliverance here
From this demon loosed upon us?
Chorus:
song performed by by Michael Mcdonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praying To A New God
(feldman / chandler / hues)
What got into you got into me too
What came over you is coming over me
Feel like Ive had enough of all the old stuff
I saw the writing on the wall on my t.v.
Its another second coming, like it or not, yeah,
Oh yeah
Its another second coming, like it or not
You better start praying to a new god
Start praying, praying to a new god
Start praying to a new, new god
Theyre saying the devils got a new job
Start praying to a new--
A lot of babel came down the cable
Everybody can be famous for a day
From shore to shore
A big department store
Is all thats left of the american way
Its another second coming, like it or not, yeah,
Oh yeah
Its another second coming, like it or not
You better start praying to a new god
Start praying, praying to a new god
Start praying to a new, new god
Start praying what are you afraid of
Start praying to a new--
Theres a big world
In the street outside
In their uniform of pride
And theyve all come
To see a star from the east
Is he man or beast?
Decide
Feel like Im crucified, still Im not satisfied
The second coming is coming anyway
I hear them pray for more on every dance floor
I hear the word go out across the milky way
Its another second coming, like it or not, yeah,
Oh yeah
Its another second coming, like it or not
You better start praying to a new god
Start praying, praying to a new god
Start praying to a new, new god
Success and moneys what hes made of
Start praying to a new--
Start praying, praying on the freeway
Start praying to a new, new god
Start praying, praying on the airwaves
Start praying to a new god
Start praying, praying at the back door
Start praying to a new, new god
Start praying, praying on the dance floor
Start praying to a new god
song performed by by Wang Chung
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Mirror Of Humanity
there is a line
in Jesus's face,
just below His eyes...
and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
dying of starvation...
there is a line
in Buddha's face,
just below his eyes....
and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
whose familes have
been killed by the
bombs and bullets.
there is a line
in my own face,
just below my eyes...
and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
i let down when
i dont do my best,
to stand up strong
for equality and peace.
have you looked in a
mirror lately?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Will We Leave Behind?
One thing in life is definite
All men will turn to dust
For short is life and finite
This lesson, learn we must.
So when its time for us to go
What will we leave behind?
Will there be tears and empty sorrow?
Or wisdom in our words they find?
Our names be written in their memory
Not wasted into nothingness
May people learn from our story
And learning thus, we live to bless.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Is It Too Late?
what constitutes deliverance?
how do we define, and draw the line,
between the sickness, and the cure?
between written morality, and ingrained morality?
between doubt of god, and the presence of god?
between hope, and despair?
do we accept what we see as real?
or must we touch, and taste, and feel?
is not the part of our heart that we hide,
the part that needs to be revealed?
whose hand is on the wheel?
who named the stars, and discovered fire?
must we not lose what we're most afraid
to lose in order to find what we most need?
do we spend all of our lives
trying to regain what we lost as children?
why are we afraid of darkness,
being children of the womb?
and why do we find that which is most sacred,
held by the hands of our darkest sins?
we fear death, we worship death... which?
is it the prize of a life well lived?
the cost of our guilt?
or are we just afraid of letting go,
of something beyond our control?
we run madly through life possessing and owning,
or being possessed and owned.
we try to make a name...
yet life is far more than names!
we cower before our own nakedness...
afraid of our own wings!
yet trees and rivers and mountains,
already converse with the sky!
who are we? is it too late?
or can we redeem the time?
can we hear the song of the mockingbird?
the chanting prayers of the ants?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You're Praying
every time you stop to help
someone stuck on the side
of the road... you're praying.
every time you go over
and help your neighbor
mow his grass... you're praying.
every time you give a couple dollars
to the down and out person
bumming in the parking lot....
you're praying.
every time you take the time
to listen to someone whose
life is falling apart... you're praying.
every time you go and give blood
during your lunch hour...
you're praying.
every time you stand up
for the person everyone else
is running down... you're praying.
every time you take in a
stray dog or cat... you're praying.
every time you give more
than you have to give... you're praying.
every time you care
when no one thinks you should...
you're praying!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Praying For Rain
the farmer poet
walking barefoot
in the dust,
looking upwards
towards heaven,
praying for rain.
the blue collar poet
walks between the rows
of machines gone silent
in the deserted building,
looking upwards,
praying for work.
the nurse poet
stares at the line
of people wanting help,
no insurance, no money
looking upwards,
praying for hope.
the politician poet
surrounded by the din
of deals being made
without conscience
or integrity,
looking upwards,
praying for dignity.
the mother poet,
pushed into a corner,
no food, no money,
cant pay the rent or
buy clothes.
looking down
into her children's eyes,
praying for God!
the human poet,
looking inwards,
praying for all
that lives
praying for rain!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gautama Christ
The names of God and especially those of His representative
Who is called Jesus or Christ according to holy books and
someone's mouth
These names have been used, worn out and left
On the shores of rivers of of human lives
Like the empty shells of a mollusk.
However when we touch these sacred but exhausted
Names, these wounded scattered petals
Which have come out of the oceans of love and fear
Something still remains, a sip of water,
A rainbow footprint that still shimmers in the light.
While the names of God were used
By the best and the worst, by the clean and the dirty
By the white and the black, by bloody murderers
And by victims flaming gold with napalm
While Nixon with his hands
Of Cain blessed those whom he condemned to death,
While fewer and fewer divine footprints were found
on the beach
People began to study colors,
The future of honey, the sign of uranium
They looked with anxiety and hope for the possibilities
Of killing themselves or not killing themselves, of organizing
themselves into a fabric
Of going further on, of breaking through limits without stopping
What we came across in these blood thirsty times
With their smoke of burning trash, their dead ashes
As we weren't able to stop looking
We often stopped to look at the names of God
We lifted them with tenderness because they reminded us
Of our ancestors, of the first people, those who said the prayers
Those who discovered the hymn that united them in misfortune
And now seeing the empty fragments which sheltered those
ancient people
We feel those smooth substances,
Worn out and used up by good and by evil.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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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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Hope Of Deliverance
I will always be hoping, hoping.
You will always be holding, holding
My heart in your hand. I will understand.
I will understand someday, one day.
You will understand always,
Always from now until then.
When it will be right, I dont know.
What it will be like, I dont know.
We live in hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
Hope of deliverance, hope of deliverance.
Hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
And I wouldnt mind knowing, knowing
That you wouldnt mind going, going along with my plan.
When it will be right, I dont know.
What it will be like, I dont know.
We live in hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
Hope of deliverance, hope of deliverance.
Hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
Hope of deliverance, hope of deliverance.
Hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
Hope of deliverance, hope of deliverance.
Hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
Hope of deliverance, hope of deliverance.
Hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Everlasting
ocean waves beating up against the beach
the cool water against my feet
faces in the rocks looking up to the sky
the ocean waves reaching forever high.
the seagulls flying in to land on the sand
as i reached over with my hand.
gently touching his soft white back
my mind racing faster-never letting up the slack
the reflections of times gone by
when life was young and not full of lies.
the only thing that ever seemed the same
was some faces and some names.
faces and names of a past gone by
as i looked up towards the sky.
trying to figure why the rock faces looked up
and what they could possibly see
as it all seemed very naked to me
when a thought came into my mind
as the ocean reflected off the sky.
the faces were looking up to see
god looking down unhappily.
of him seeing all of his creations
being all torn down.
of human life laying on the ground.
unhappiness all around and not one voice to be found
to tell the world of its mistakes and the lies we live are all fakes.
and now i see what is to be-his truth everlasting.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hear....
i hear the cry of a thousand naked voices.
i hear the sound of the turning wheels.
i hear the guns, and the moment after,
i hear the blood of bodies in the fields.
i hear the cry of babies without mothers,
i hear the hunger of faces without names.
i hear the whisper of god in the homeless,
the hearts of the poor in the falling rain.
i hear the truth beyond all lies,
i hear the hand that takes another.
i hear justice's cry for deliverance,
and the prayer of the stranger that is my brother.
i hear the hammer and wings of freedom,
i hear equality chanted and sang.
i hear the beat of life calling forward,
to dare, to give, tis not in vain!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Gospel Changes
The Prodigal Son, he'd been away a while
he was working his way back home now
over many a ragged mile
When he finally crossed the river
and his father saw him near
there was a joyful sound, for all the world to hear
I listened to what the Good Book said
and it made good sense to me
talkin' about reapin' what you're sowin'
people trying to be free.
Now we've got new names and faces, this time around
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
Jesus, He did not doubt His gifts
though He knew that He had not long to live
He took care of the bus'ness
of teaching us how to fly
then He bowed His head and laid down to die
I listened to what the Good Book said
and it made good sense to me
talkin' about reapin' what you're sowin'
people trying to be free.
Now we've got new names and faces, this time around
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
Jerusalem I see you standing high
but if you lose your salvation
there'll be no tears left to cry
Now some men worship a Golden Calf
while others are bought and sold
and if we live like that brother we pay the toll
I listened to what the Good Book said
and it made good sense to me
talkin' about reapin' what you're sowin'
people trying to be free.
Now we've got new names and faces, this time around
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down,
Still Goin' Down
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One, Two, One... For You
the dust in the empty pockets
of the poor man,
walking home from work.
the plowed field just planted,
at the feet of sun and rain.
the simple house built by hand,
lifetimes written into the walls.
the last touch, the last kiss,
the moment never forgotten....
hearts wrapped in hearts,
live and die as one...
one set of footprints,
one name on the stone.
one set of wings,
one fire, one clap of thunder.
two words spoken, two empty vases.
one heart, one hawk flying,
two hands times two,
one dream!
two sparrows part,
one nest, and one tree!
two sides, two faces...
one memory!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Comment As A Poem
The self-righteous Calvinists
who speak peace to Arminians
would say that we hold to 'doctrinal regeneration.'
'Doctrinal regeneration, ' they say,
is the view that knowledge of a certain doctrine
or set of doctrines is a prerequisite to salvation.
A new self! That is the effect of regeneration -
… created to be like God in true righteousness.
The salvation is a deliverance from the wrath of God,
deliverance from sin and guilt,
deliverance from Satan
and deliverance from death and hell.
But it is not only a deliverance from something -
it is also a deliverance unto something -
unto God, unto fellowship with God,
unto service to God,
and unto enjoyment of eternal life.
The Atum as the heart and tongue of Ptah
who is defined as: The Unknown God,
The Self-begotten God (Umvelinqani/mutangakugara) ,
The God of Gods,
The First Cause,
The Principle of Principles is also
the mind or spirit of Ptah.
Thus Atum is the first manifestation
of the Unknown God.
The God does not regenerate in self.
Therefore, only the universe regenerates in self.
So, God can be alone, separating good from bad
for recreating the Universe.
The Big Bang Theory describes very well...
@ Written by MARIETA MAGLAS in commenting my recent posting 'Street peoples journal'.
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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