En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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Walking With The Lover...

walking with the Lover...
i see empty fields plowed,
come alive with crops abundant.
empty factory buildings filled
with the ghosts of hard working lives.
empty houses lit up,
and the sounds of families.
empty hands given cups and bowls,
empty hearts held close!
empty words given meaning,
empty promises fulfilled.
walking with the Lover...
touching the plenty of empty!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk The Path In Stillness

walking barefoot...
down alleys dark,
while children play
with garbage and broken glass.
past unlocked doors,
through buildings spent,
left for ghosts and tribal memories.
past walls charred by sweat and time,
left to smolder with empty ache....
to the time before the time before,
when living had a name.

under war torn skies,
over bodies strewn,
and left for birds of prey.
down dusty roads,
holding a child's dark hands,
in shadows anguished pain.
the skies aflame,
as if stars died, and every veil is rent.
to the sound of freedom's hungered drums,
and shadowed wings beating fury.

to the barren room,
the mattress on the floor,
frost upon the pane.
where lovers turned upon the spit,
with bodies made of water.
eyes wide open, living thrust,
tongues tracing maps to destiny.
the hardened cock,
buried in soul's wet lips,
while angels silently prayed.
and the candle burned
till the break of dawn,
and moonlight's final kiss...
the barren room of the empty house,
where eternity revealed!

the field once plowed
has now turned brown...
sparrows pick at the dust.
and scriptures written
in hickory rust,
whispers lost to sound!
battles fought, and flags laid down,
cover caskets that wait for dirt.
the little girl's shoe, the old washtub,
the broken pot beneath the window.

while dogs bark, and ants converse,
and hearts are covered with snow.
the faces of god fade into wood,
stacked and thrown into the fire.
be it dream, be it madness,
or the simple turning of the wheel...
the wind turns with a final kiss,
bare feet walk the path in stillness!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Empty Spaces

Once there were times love
When we could touch the air between
And out acroos this room
Wed just touch hands life would shine
With electric dreams.
No matter how many miles
Nothing hurt long-distance-hearts
And there was always something there
That space could never keep apart
But now I know inside that something is died
When were apart
All we have are
Empty spaces.
Its not like were building walls
Too hard to climb to make us blind
Its just so much numbing space
To hollow out the heart and mind
And I can hear echoes of ghosts of love
We left behind.
Ill always love april
We fell in love and we planted seeds
But now we walk through fallen trees
And leaves are crushed beneath
And I will always live in autumn
Now were agreed
All we have are
Empty spaces.
Ithought this was meant to be
Our love had an energy
But only as time evolved
And all of our strength dissolved
And well never feel the flame that burned so naked
Again.
I walk through kentish town
And all the rain rain pouring down
So many people here
But space like this Ive never found
And as I get back home and step inside
I realise all I have
All I have are
Empty spaces.

song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Ain't Where His Heart Is

He knew how to reach me deep inside
And he found a part of me i could not hide
And we'd walk and talk and touch tenderly
Then he'd lay me down and make love to me
We built a love so strong and couldn't break
There was not a road we were afraid to take
And we'd kiss all the way from arkansas to rome
'cause in each other's arms we were home sweet home
But he don't feel the same
Since our lives became
Years of bills, babies and chains
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
He may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
But he don't lay his head down to love me like before
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
If foundations made of stone can turn to dust
Then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust
If he could only find that feeling once again
If we could only change the way the story ends
And he may still come home
But i live here alone
The love that built these walls is gone
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
He may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
But he don't lay his head down to love me like before
He don't lay his head down to love me like before
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
No, home ain't where his heart is

song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Ain't Where The Heart Is

he knew how to reach me deep inside
and he found a part of me i could not hide
and we'd walk and talk and touch tenderly
then he'd lay me down and make love to me
we built a love so strong and couldn't break
there was not a road we were afraid to take
and we'd kiss all the way from arkansas to rome
'cause in each other's arms we were home sweet home
but he don't feel the same
since our lives became
years of bills babies and chains
home ain't where his heart is anymore
he may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
but he don't lay his head down to love me like before
home ain't where his heart is anymore
if foundations made of stone can turn to dust
then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust
if he could only find that feeling once again
if we could only change the way the story ends
and he may still come home
but i live here alone
the love that built these walls is gone
home ain't where his heart is anymore
he may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
but he don't lay his head down to love me like before
he don't lay his head down to love me like before
home ain't where his heart is anymore
no home ain't where his heart is

song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Children's Playground In The City

THIS is a place where men laid their dead,
Each with his life-tale of good or ill;
Here prayers were murmured and hot tears shed,
And passionate anguish moaned its fill.
Silent now is each voice that cried,
And the tears that were wept have all been dried
In the dust; and dust are the hearts that bled
With hopeless longing for hearts grown still.

Dead and forgotten! for Death, requiter
Of love, taught Memory how to forget!
The love that remembered them died. Grow brighter,
Oh, dim grave-garden, with dead hearts set!
Room for the small flying feet to pass,
The feet of the children over the grass!
The dead, if they knew it, would feel them lighter
Than the weight of a stone that no tears make wet.

We must die too, and the grief that will live
Must die as surely--death comes to all;
But you who come after--let Nature give
To our graves her tears, to our dust her pall:
Let her hide us away in her cold broad breast,
Let us be forgotten, and be at rest,
And over our heads let the great world strive,
And the children's voices carol and call.

If your heart on the flower of remembrance is set,
There is one way to pluck it--and only one:
Dare you ask your country not to forget
A name that needs to be graved on stone?
By grief, strife, sacrifice, scorn of fame,
You may grave on the people's hearts your name,
Or your name may die, and your soul live yet
In the cause you died for--the work you have done.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Untitled 1

A house on fire
A wall of stone
A door that once was open
An empty face and empty bones
Who ate your heart?
You're cold inside
You're not the one I hoped for
I'll see you on the other side
I'll see you on the other side
The wind wouldn't blow me home
To lie in your heart of hearts
Will I ever see you again
And lie in your heart of hearts
Who ate your heart?
You're cold inside
You're not the one I hoped for
I'll see you on the other side
I'll see you on the other side
The wind wouldn't blow me home
To lie in your heart of hearts
Will I ever see you again
And lie in your heart of hearts

song performed by by Keane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Written With Nails (For Terence)

metal jacketed truth bullets
spat from the empty tomb
on the third day, ...
grave clothes lying empty.

human stink garbage sweat grime,
hands reaching for hands...
candles made of flesh,
matches of dried bones.

truth lightning gentle weeping sorrow,
food bowls held by shaking hands.
eyes that see, hearts that feel,
simply living, by the fire!

spiritual writings written with nails,
compassion's hammers, caring's shovel...
lifetimes building shelters,
and planting gardens for the poor!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The usual afternoon walk

Flying sparrows, worry they do not
About what to eat about what tomorrow
Shall be, God tells us, so that
We humans, his servants, his children,
His friends, need not worry too

We know that we are spoken of that
God’s love and goodness
He feeds the sparrows from the grains
Of this field, he makes them drink from
The rain, he gives them all the sweetness
From the fruits of the trees
He had given them limitless skies
Where they can all fly
He had given them nests
For them to call home in all the nights
And storms

I walk today on this path, after a hard day’s work
I like to think
Reassuring ideas as these
God’s love and kindness
I like to see
These birds flying again around me in this
Usual afternoon walk
When the sun is about to set
On these walling mountains
How wonderful to see this scenic view!
How good the feeling to see the sparrows again1
Though I cannot hold and touch them
The softness of their feathers
The agility of their small wings
The lightness of their bodies
Their quick soars and dives and light landings!

I guess. Now, I am also feeling fine
This light body, the small wings of my soul,
The flight of my thoughts, soaring and diving and lightly landing
to the hands of my God
In the twilight of these dusky skies.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Hollow Nature Of Being

WALL I:

inside an empty room lies an empty box
and in that box is a four walled inside room within-
on each of the four walls is a mirror reflecting
the deep desertion of the next
and distant within each wall is another
echoing & spiraling back into infinite repetition
with nothing or no one except the physical entities
bearing back upon each other.

WALL II:

an empty room in an empty house
the house itself has no physical attributes because it
was built in a barren field-
there are no animals, no trees,
no beings of any kind
roaming around the house whose image cannot be
imagined,
at best, know that this house in fact
“housed” the room in question,
as any house might any room.

WALL III:

such a barren field stretches to all four corners
carrying itself out beyond the periphery
curling back in on the other side,
and walking in any direction will bring one back to the
beginning-
the barren field that reveals the empty house that
encapsulates the empty room is the most integral point of
reference within the endless flat plain of grass.

WALL IV:

endless flat plains of grass flowing out in all directions covering
the circumference of the area around the empty house residing in
the middle of the plain wherein
the inside of the empty house holds the
empty room & in the
room,
the four mirrored walls reveal only the replication of the
others,
spiraling into infinite repetition-
there is no feeling
no sound
no communication of any kind
woven with the thread of human fiber.

poem by Andrew Delapruch
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Gasping For Light

1

i built a fire in the yard.
slowly walked back into the house.
gathering everything of value.
my books, my clothes, my boots,
old photographs, letters, pictures,
everything i've ever written.
every memory.

took them outside,
and fed them to the fire!
and walked off barefoot
into the night.

2

lover, dance with me!
we call unto each other
from distances, through barriers,
breaking down walls of seperation;
through tears and angry silence,
echoing through the night.

i kiss your eyes, your lips,
the arch of your neck.
your fingertips, your feet,
the inside of your thighs.
your wetness.

you open your eyes,
and the shadow disappears!

3

spirits dance in the moonlight!
a soft wind rustles
through the trees.
the howl of a dog,
car lights on a forgotten road;
a screen door closes softly.
old house wrapped in stillness.

only a faint sound.
the footsteps of God
walking in your heart!

4

i can smell your perfume,
or maybe the scent of rain coming.
i can taste you in the
cool damp earth,
in the blood of a small animal
killed by a passing car,
in the cry of the baby
waking up hungry,
in the web of the spider.
in the hollow of my soul.

5

two moths lost in the darkness,
gasping for light.

poem by Eric Cockrell
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This House Is Empty Now

(costello/bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter
But now theyre quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window up above for long
In broken home
Yet this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy there
You never said
So this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do to make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness
Its funny how the memory
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high, or close the door
Or throw away the key
This house is empty now
Theres no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
This house is empty now
This house is empty now

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion Takes Flight

Walk any crowded city street
See vacant stares on a sea of faces
How stiff they walk on frozen feet
Of long forgotten social graces

Is passion within human hearts gone
As far as knowing eyes can see?
Love and joy no longer paragon
'Lord', why won’t they look at me?

Your passion Vincent helps them find wings
As paint on canvas did so long ago
Lovely are the words your paintings sing
As if by magic, vivid flowers seem to grow

Soon, God’s Hands shall touch hearts again
Of long forgotten buried and the walking dead
Made afresh what was once arcane
The Will of God shall once more embed

Countless souls shall launch an upward flight
None shall rest, until they reach Eternal Light

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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Empty Hands

He rode in town on a white horse
With nothing in his hands
He came to gather his people
And take them to their promised land
When he came he knew there would be bloodshed
But still no violence made his plans
He came to fight in a battle
With no guns or money

But with his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands

They said hey boy what you lookin'at
As they eyed his dreaded mane
He said my father has sent me
I've come back to reclaim
The children whose hearts
Were so whole and pure
Now it's you who'll die in pain
So they lynched the man
Who fooled the word
And all the children gathered
In his empty hands

In his empty hands
The children ..... empty hands
In his empty hands
With his empty hands
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Let Love Rule
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ever Dream Of Flying

Ever dream of flying,
With my arms spread out,
And my feet behind me.
I fly like I have done so a million times,
In different dreams and different times.

Ever dream of flying,
Seeing the city bellow.
The houses all lit in the night,
People looking out their windows.

Ever dream of flying,
One minute flying past vast cities.
The next moment I am flying past mountains,
And then Back to my house, my home.

Ever dream of flying,
That it seems so odd not to fly when you wake.
It seems the dream was real and this world,
Was not so real at all.

Ever dream of flying,
Swooping low to help a loved one.
Flying fast to do the heroic thing,
Saving a dear one from catastrophe,
Like a movie, but only a dream.

Ever dream of flying,
Or am I the only dreamer that flies,
Fleeting past new cities,
Seeing the sights by night and by day,
Flying like in a dream.

poem by Rowina Mallick
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Flying Dreams

Dream by night,
wish by day
Love begins this way.
Lovin' starts
when open hearts
touch and stay.
Sleep for now,
dreamings how
lovers' lives are planned.
Future songs and flying dreams,
hand in hand.
Love it seems
made flying dreams,
so hearts could soar.
Heaven sent
these dreams were meant
to prove once more,
that love is the key.
Love is the key.
You and I
touch the sky
the eagle and the dove.
Nightingales,
we keep our sails
filled with love.
And love it seems
made flying dreams
to bring you home to me.
Love it seems
made flying dreams,
so hearts could soar.
Heaven sent
these dreams were meant,
to prove once more
That love is the key.
Love is the key.
You and I
touch the sky
the eagle and the dove.
Nightingales
we keep our sails
filled with love
And love it seems
made flying dreams
to bring you home to me.
Ever strong
our future song
to sing it must be free.
And every part
is from the heart
and love is still the key.
And love it seems
made flying dreams
to bring you home to me.

song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Gravel!

the trees all cut,
lay across the path.
all signs of life have vanished.

an empty hamper
where clothes once lived,
not even the scent of living remains.

lifetimes fall like words
in a vacant room....
swept to the side by indifference.

nothing remains of the fire,
even the ashes are cold....
the air itself gone stagnant!

from a whirlwind to an echo,
a kiss to a door lock turned,
the sound of a stranger walking away.

and all that we are,
and ever have been,
footprints left in the gravel!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lonesome Farewell...

lonesome farewell...
wind blown dust,
cardboard boxes in the rain.
the doorknob broken,
the window nailed shut.

empty fields, briars and thorns.
a dead rabbit rotting
on the side of the road.
signs falling down,
tree limbs on the ground.

silence screams, waves of grief!
the smell of want, forgotten lips.
words cling like cobwebs
to the empty walls...
where are you now?

where are you now?

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Empty becouse of her

As I open my eyes and I cry,
Im all alone in my quit room,
My words are a whisper from the past,
My arms are empty because of her,
Everyone can kiss my but,
My heart is empty and now im starting to feel the tears form upon my cheeks I still wait upon the dead,
So that I can have her kisses,
I wait for her return home so that im no alone,
But 1 thing is that it’s hard loving a memory,
Loving a memory is allot easier than hating a memory,
I live my cousin’s memory with all my heart,
Everyone should know she is why my life has start,
She was and still is a very important girl at least she is in my world

poem by Gary Hicinbothem
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