Rough Carpenter...
i am only the rough carpenter
building a hapless shelter...
for strays, dogs and cats,
old people and young anarchists.
addicts, whores, ex-cons, and thieves.
street bums, farmers left homeless,
angry young students...
spiders, snails, ants, and moths.
out of work elephants,
turtles who have lost their shell.
small birds fallen from the nest,
both prodigals and dreamers.
third world refugees,
the blind, and the deaf.
sons and daughters,
mothers and fathers...
people bound by tears,
fears, and their own failures.
small people living small lives,
and renegade priests...
all those who doubt, question, and seek...
hearts that need hearts, hands that need hands.
those that need ears,
and human closeness.
pine trees fallen, and moonlight forgotten.
and that stranger the wind,
when she happens by!
a rough carpenter working and waiting,
for love to finish the job!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hunger They Feel
i cannot and will not stand
to watch any living being go hungry...
whether it be homeless people,
street bums, addicts, or small children...
and even dogs and cats abandoned
by their 'owners'....
the hunger they feel
is a part of me...
drives me like a harsh wind...
morsels of food, whatever i've got...
come sit by the fire....
we are one!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Small To Big!
small hands, trust...
big hands, afraid,
clenched to fists...
small eyes, see...
big eyes, blinded,
confined to conceptions...
small hearts, love...
big hearts, possess,
clipping the wings
of their own dreams!
small to big, return to small
finding our way home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In Every Way!
how many people are blind?
how many people are deaf?
how many by choice?
perhaps you still have jobs,
homes, food to eat, medical care.
perhaps you have investments,
a way to retire....
perhaps your family is happy,
and well taken care of...
i hope so for you!
millions of people hurting,
millions in need...
millions of children hungry,
millions who cant get an education.
millions enslaved by poverty,
millions left alone....
people with faces and names.
all of these are normal people.
whatever their language, their religion,
their sexual orientation.
all of these are people just like you.
and many of these have families,
just like you!
is it their fault they're victims?
perhaps they've worked their whole lives.
male, female, young, old.....
all people,
with mothers and fathers....
all people....
and no, America is not free.
the news we watch is tainted.
the truth is hidden from us.
killing people around the world
does not make us free....
books are being banned and burned,
prejudice and discrimination are rampant.
we have forgotten we are responsible for each other,
we have forgotten we are all immigrants here.
there are no illegal people,
all people are just people.
freedom demands equality,
in every way!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Carpenter By Trade
His future had been laid- for he was a carpenter by trade.
Just as a carpenter can mold anything out of wood
He could mold mans hearts and souls into good.
He would mold mans hearts with accurate precision
For this was his fathers decision.
He came to mold all the hearts of mankind
And open the eyes of the blind.
The world would come to know him as the king of kings
And see all the love that he would bring.
Throughout the centuries it will be told
He is the master craftsman of the heart and soul.
Now when we feel a tingle of sensation
And a wanting to get more of inspiration
Look for the craftsman who could mold
The hearts and souls of man
To give you a helping hand.
when he made the heart of man
He left a corner deep within
Where the love for him can forever grow
And his love you could show.
Let all who know you - know this carpenter man
Who from evil he took his stand.
He has entered in you to mold you from the inside out
So you would know what loves about.
poem by Louis Rams
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One Small Step
So many people
Need to go so many miles
How do we move them
To where the answer lies
Reach out to the ocean
Beyond the stars that shine
Weve got to take one small step in time
If we are the dreamers
Then the world must be the dream
Driven to question
All the things weve never seen
We search the horizon
Looking for a sign
Weve got to take one small step in time
One step beyond
All our hopes and our passion
There is the light of the universe flashin
All that it takes is one leap of faith
One small step, (one small step)
One small step in time
Deep in the darkness
(deep in the blackness)
Theres a wind that never dies
(theres a wind that never dies)
Out in the vastness
(out in the vastness)
Theres a road across the sky
(a road across the sky)
Out there is the reason
That we were meant to find
Weve got to take one small step in time
Weve got to take one small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
One small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
One small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Small Town
Love going for walks around town
A small town a holler from the big city
The many old building lining the main street
Which by the way isn't main street that's a block away
From the small library to the high school a jot to get to
The sidewalks resemble the old boardwalks from yesteryear
The shops vary as the street winds to the highway
The country air blows thru the street full of manure
Good ole air, they say around here
The small diner with the local farmers dwell at
Talking of this year's events from farming to politics
The ladies at the sew shop talking gossip
It's amazing how time don't change as years pass
Every year the town picnic to the 4th July jamboree
To the harvest dance and everything in between
Small town people living the old time ways
Wishing every town was as good as it
Walking thru saying hey to neighbors all around
Can make everyday a good day
Seeing people in the park enjoying the kids play
The banner welcoming you to our small town
Small town America, loving it, living it
poem by Michael Peterson
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The Best Way To Avoid Publicity
The best way to avoid publicity in small towns,
Especially...
Where there are those who are quick to peek and probe.
Is to pretend to seek it!
That's right.
People living in small towns love to believe,
There are those living amongst them...
Who seek attention.
And there are very few people I know,
Who advocate the advertising for peace of mind.
People living in small towns,
Frown down upon others...
Just on general principle anyway.
Anything that does not conform to limitation,
Is ignored and left alone.
That's why many celebrities and other notables,
Choose these places to live to be shunned and go unnoticed.
And this feeling has a mutual understanding that is respected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Next Great World War!
the next great world war
is already being fought...
within... within the hearts
of the poor of all nations,
struggling to survive,
for food and shelter.
in the hearts of the jobless,
the homeless, the sick.
in the hearts of prisoners,
of victims...
in the hearts of the takers,
the movers, the ones that make
the decisions, that hold
the key and the whip.
in the hearts of soldiers,
of politicians, of the innocents
killed by the bombing.
in the hearts of seekers,
of the lonely, the desperate.
in the hearts of the angry,
of the haters...
of priests, preachers, and moral guides.
in the hearts of the common,
in the hearts of the gifted,
in the hearts of the protesters,
and the cops that beat them.
in the hearts of all people everywhere,
crying out for change in spite of...
the war rages...
and who will stand
when the day is done?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Diversity of People
There are pretty people
There are ugly people,
There are short people
There are fat people,
There are tall people
And there are skinny people
There are people that you blame
And there are people that blame you,
There are people like me
And there are people like you
There are mothers
And there are fathers,
There are sons
And there are daughters
They are all wound up in their family trees,
Walking ordinarily on the streets
To life's different beats
poem by Jessica Goudreault
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Family of War
Every morning I awake I fall to my knees and pray.
God, please make the war in Iraq come to end.
There are too many fathers and sons come home
in pine boxes. There are too many mothers and daughters
doing the same. Leaving behind fathers and sons mothers
and daughter with a last memory of them waving goodbye.
There is too much blood and tears of fathers and sons mothers
and daughters being shed all in the name of peace.
God please let our leaders see how many families are dying
and that war can never bring peace. Only love can.
This prayer is my gun and God you’re the bullet I’m shooting
to end this Family of War.
The Small People!
it is then...
the small people,
common men and women,
who by their hands built this dream,
who plowed the fields,
paved the roadways...
who picked your fruit,
who built your small businesses.
who worked your factories and mills.
who built your homes and churches.
who drove your trucks, who fixed your cars,
who made your clothes and your furniture.
who worked for too little
to make you too rich....
who hauled your trash,
who wiped your asses.
who worked as cashiers, clerks, and salesmen.
who covered for you when you were sick,
yet worked when they were sick.
who laid your bricks, who cut your logs,
who stocked your grocery stores.
who dug your graves and fought your damn wars,
the small people, that you throw away!
no jobs, no work, no benefits, no insurance...
no medical care, no cars...
no lights, no rent, no food, no shelter...
no name, no reason to be!
the small people...
too old, too tired, too angry, too used up.
self taught, no degree, experience doesnt count.
the small people....
pushed into a corner,
stacked in the alleyways.
broken wheels turning on broken glass.
the small people....
staring back from your mirror,
from the darkness outside your window.
the small people...
who are not going
to take it anymore!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Forgotten Hungry And Homeless
The forgotten hungry and homeless nowadays to be found everywhere
There are millions of them close to a billion in the bigger World out there
The refugees of drought stricken Lands and of warlords and the homeless of Poverty Street
Basic human rights of them are denied shelter from the weather and enough for to eat
In a Human World where everyone is supposed to be equal after all we breathe in the same air
But the poor and the homeless and the hungry cannot feel that life is very fair
The minority those who are too wealthy people with too much of everything
Are people that many look up to though their praises I cannot sing,
In an egalatarian Human World everyone would have a home to live in
And nobody would be without food and well dressed and not ragged and thin
The poor by the day growing poorer and that does seem a sad thing to say
And the refugee camps of the World are all overcrowded today,
'Tis sad to think that from the poverty of many that a minority does stand to gain
And I with enough of food and shelter have no reason for to complain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The people we lost in Aurora loved, and were loved. They were mothers and fathers; husbands and wives; sisters and brothers; sons and daughters; friends and neighbors. They had hopes for the future and dreams that were not yet fulfilled. And if there's anything to take away from this tragedy, it's a reminder that life is fragile. Our time here is limited and it is precious. And what matters in the end are not the small and trivial things which often consume our lives. It's how we choose to treat one another, and love one another. It's what we do on a daily basis to give our lives meaning and to give our lives purpose. That's what matters. That's why we're here.
quote by Barack Obama
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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City Of Hearts
THE CITY OF HEARTS
IS WHAT I WANT TO FIND
WHERE I’M TIGHTLY BOUND BY STRINGS OF LOVE
HOLDING ME BACK ME WHEN I STRAY TOWARDS THE WRONG,
ENCOURAGING ME WHEN A GOOD DEED’S DONE
WHERE ESCAPE IS INFIDELITY
HATRED A SIN & VOILENCE A CURSE
AN ABODE WHERE HONESTY THRIVES & COMPASSION LIVES…
SO ETHEREAL THESE THINGS DO SEEM
LOST IN THE ANNALS OF HISTORY… NOW
SUCH WERE THE FONDS OF MY BLISSFUL HEART
BUT WHERE SHALL I FIND MY CITY OF HEARTS? ?
IN THE QUEST FOR JOY,
IN THE QUEST FOR LOVE,
I TRAVERSED CITIES A PLENTY,
THE PEOPLE WERE GOOD,
THE LANDSCAPES ENCHANTING
BUT THERE WAS ALWAYS SOMETHING MISSING..
THAT “WHAT” I WAS SEARCHING FOR IS UNFATHOMABLE
FOR I WANTED TO FIND MY HOME IN ALL OF THEM!
WHERE SHALL I FIND MY CITY OF HEARTS,
THAT’S THE QUESTION I USUALLY ASKED.
A FAMILY TO RELY ON
AND FRIENDS TO CARE FOR
WHERE I’M LOVED FOR WHAT I AM
WHERE THERE IS SUCH UNCONDITIONAL LOVE
THAT I SHALL CRAVE TO GIVE & ONLY GIVE!
SUCH WERE THE IDEAS THAT SHROUDED MY MIND
AND THUS THE ETERNAL QUEST WENT ON…
I REALISED THAT THERE SHALL NEVER BE
SUCH A CITY OF HEARTS
FOR PEOPLE HAVE BECOME COLD & CRUDE
IT TAKES A MILLION BUCKS FOR THEM
TO PASS ON A SIMPLE SMILE
LOST ARE THE SMALL TALKS
THAT PEOPLE USED TO SHARE
ITS NOW THE MASKS OF PERFECT EXPRESSIONS
THAT ONE & ALL SO NICELY WEAR
SMALL JOYS NO MORE HOLD MEANING,
SMALL BEAUTIES NO MORE APPRECIATED
NOW IT’S THE LURE OF MONEY THAT’S ENTICING..
THE RAT RACE HAS REACHED SATURATION
BUT NONE HAVE REALISED THE GRAVE SITUATION
THE CITY OF HEARTS IS BURIED SOMEWHERE
ALONE, DARK & WITHERED..
IT ROTS DUE TO LACK OF CARE
FOR PEOPLE HAVE LEFT TO A NEW SPHERE
WHERE MONEY & NOT EMOTIONS ARE SO DEAR.
NONETHELESS I WANT TO FIND
MY CITY OF HEARTS,
WHERE HUMANS ARE HUMANS
WITH A PIECE OF HEART
THE QUEST THAT I’VE BEGUN
SHALL SOMEDAY BE COMPLETE
TILL THEN IT’S THE HOPE IN MY HEART
THAT TELLS ME I’LL SURELY FIND
MY CITY OF HEARTS! !
poem by Vaishnavi Raghuraman
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Were A Carpenter
If I were a carpenter and you were a lady
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
If I worked my hands in wood
I wonder would you still love me?
I say yes, I would, I'll put you above me
That's what I want you to say
And would you save my love from loneliness,
Would you save my love from sorrow, if you would
I give you my onlyness, girl and all of my tomorrows
If a tinker were my trade, would you still find me?
Carrying the pots and the pans that I made,
Walking along the highway
That long lonely highway
If I was a carpenter, and you were a lady
And I was just a carpenter,
Instead of a rock and roll star
Just a carpenter
A carpenter
A carpenter
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet Is....
the poet is a vase,
collecting tears like rainwater,
with a tiny hole in the bottom,
connecting to the ground.
the poet is a prism,
seperating colors from black and white,
then drawing black and white from colors,
dissolving and evolving.
the poet is an illusion,
that looks and smells like home,
redefining distance by closeness,
finding the familiar in a stranger.
the poet is an orphan,
a messenger, and a thief.
bringing you a lit candle,
and stealing your heart for a stand.
the poet is a carpenter,
building from scraps of wood.
using time rusted nails,
and an eye for dreams.
the poet is a healer,
and the moment you forgot,
on the way to remembering,
who you really are.
the poet is a bridge,
borrowed wings, and a cross.
a simple fire tended by no one,
and ears left behind by god.
the poet is a body,
grown tired in it's dying.
and the small winged creature without name,
waiting to follow the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Christmas Is Almost Here
(Livingston Taylor)
There's a hand that's old and rough
And it's holding on
To one that's new and small
Whose life has just begun
Hand in hand
Young and old
Calm each others fears
Christmas is almost here
There's a rocky road ahead
Two people walk alone
Wondering in the fading light
If they can find their home
When hope is almost gone
A distant light appears
Christmas is almost here
Almost here for those in doubt
For those who must remain
Left behind when love goes cold
And shifting life makes change
Almost here for dreamers
Who think that there's a chance
That they will find their music
And a partner for the dance
There's a dream that doesn't die
Now we walk as one
Justice has a gentle hand
And love is like the sun
The darkest night is past
And by the stars we steer
Christmas is almost here
Christmas is almost here
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rest In Peace......
So many soldiers gone, when will this end.
It's time to realize all this makes no sense,
killing for nothing like it's not a sin.
Too many small kids losing their fathers, falling vitcims to the street.
As mothers are left crying tears of sorrow, with the devil we all compete.
Our days are truly numbered, it's time we all get straight.
Too many lives are being lost to this world of hate.
Young black men dying before seeing their babies graduate.
Like a rocket set to blow, constantly increasing our black crime rate.
Caskets flowing through churches, week after week.
Prayer warriors putting in overtime, Lord please it's you many seek.
It's time to change, no we can't erase the past.
But think about it, time as we know it is wanding up fast.
Head tilted towards heaven, praying Lord please deliver peace.
Wiping tears of sorrow thinking of all who are decease.
In paradise they'll all find love and ease to their pain.
Forever in our hearts and memories, tears for now, but soon sunshine to our rain.
poem by Shondrika Anderson
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That Millions Do Live In Poverty
That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
That millions are born to live in poverty and to end their hard lives in despair
Only tells us if there's a god that god favours the wealthy and that god is not very fair
To leave millions homeless and dying of malnutrition the people condemned to die poor and young
In the refugee camps of the World live the displaced, the poor and unsung,
In the age of celebrity worship the poor in millions multiply
Why millions are destined to be poor don't ask me I wouldn't know why
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries poor people are no longer rare
And millions and millions of have nots in the bigger World out there
And millions are dying of hunger and millions are doing it tough
And millions are displaced and homeless and as refugees living it rough.
poem by Francis Duggan
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