Silence Of The Grieving
i weep...
for i cannot help but feel,
the etched lines in the starving child's face,
the fear of the soldier's conscience.
the desperate blade of the homeless,
the anger of the addict...
the hatred that is poverty,
the hopelessness of the unemployed.
the slap against the face of color,
the rage of prisons, and trailer parks.
the half naked children playing with broken glass,
the kid who cant take it anymore.
the blow against those who dare to be different,
against those who dare to be what they are.
the hardened path of the single parent,
the lostness of the child who doesnt understand.
the sound the dying make when they're alone,
the labored breath of the sleepless night.
the touch of the rain on the fallen leaf,
the silence of the grieving.
i weep...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
Every Child!
the faces of...
every child who'll
go to bed hungry tonite...
every child afraid to sleep
for fear of the soldiers,
the bullets, the bombs....
every child abused
by his parents...
every child humiliated
for being different.
every child who's never
known his own father...
every child with no hope
for an education...
every child sleeping
in homeless cars.
every child alone,
lonely, without love.
every child of every broken home,
every child, every color, every country...
staring at me this sleepless night,
tearing at my heart...
all my children!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Broken child
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who has seen more than his young eyes should.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who would run away from it all if he could.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who has been ravished by the likes of you and I.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child with to much pride to cry.
I see the face off a broken child.
a child who fights off anyone who cares.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who wishes his mother was there.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who wont let his hardships keep him down.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who refuses to give up and reveal a frown.
poem by Joshua Reid
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I Am.... (Hand Of Silence)
i am the fire raging out of control,
the blade of the shadow on poverty's neck.
the broken sound when no one can hear,
the cold feel of the gallows,
the wings of the dead bird.
i am the raccoon trapped,
and the fury of loss.
i am the waiting that kills,
moment by moment.
i am the hand too tired to touch,
the baby just born that no one wants.
i am the ribs showing on the starving child,
the refugee fleeing with nowhere to go.
the smell of despair at the county dump,
the apartment without curtains or furniture.
i am the soldier killed who hesitated with conscience.
i am the prisoner afraid of both detention and freedom.
the young gay teenager who hangs himself,
the pregnant girl who takes too many pills.
i am the protester beaten and left on the sidewalk,
the old man alone without food or heat.
i am the touch of Jesus in the addict's eyes,
the street bum sleeping in the alley.
i am the farmer whose farm was taken,
the family left without a home.
the 40 year worker in the unemployment line,
the young girl taken and sold as a whore.
i am the Buddhist monk who sets himself on fire,
the rebel imprisoned for speaking the truth.
i am the millions of young who cant afford school,
the millions of workers who cant afford insurance.
i am the immigrant deported,
whose family has no chance.
the young mother caught stealing food.
i am the morals hidden by despair and anger,
the conscience of the poor holding the gun.
i am the color of skin covered with blood,
the face of god in strays of all kinds.
i am the Buddha weeping,
the body of suffering....
the hand of silence covering the grave.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Weep For The Child
Hey you, do you ever cry - for the child?
Falling in love with strangers, feeling incomplete, hey thats me
Some are fly, some are shy, some are acting like they own the street, ooh
One minute were together then the next youre acting really cool, so cool
You can play me any way but dont ever treat me like a fool, no no no
Sometimes so hateful
Sometimes so shy
Dont ask me why
Weep for the child
Better raise your hand
Were twisting the style
Aint no need to understand
Dont leave me alone to make it tonight
No dont go
Wearing your desperation wrapped me on your sleeve, yes you do
Youve got everything you want but you just cant get the things that you need, oh no no no
Sometimes you fake it
Sometimes you lie
Dont ask me why
Weep for the child
Better raise your hand, raise your hand
Were twisting the style
Aint no need to understand
Dont leave me alone to make it tonight, no no no
Sweet baby
You never understood
You never treat me right
Weep for the child
Better raise your hand, raise your hand
Were twisting the style
Aint no need to understand, do you understand?
Dont leave me alone to make it tonight, yeah
Weep for the child
Weep
Weep
Weep
In your heart
Weep for the child
Better raise your hand, raise your hand
Were twisting the style
Aint no need to understand, no need
Dont leave me alone to make it
Alone to make it
Alone to make it tonight
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fallen Soldier
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home.
Trickling Down His Face A Tear,
Forgetting How It Feels To Fear
Death And All It's Fate And Glory.
Now It's Here, No Need To Worry.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
He's One Of Those They'll All Forget;
The Life He Lived, The Goals He Set,
The Ones He Loved, The Ones Who Wait
To See His Nearly Forgotten Face.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Now Breathing's Just A Waste Of Breath
And Living's Just A Waste Of Death
As He Searches For A New Address;
A Brand New Home Free Of Loneliness.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Lying Motionless On The Ground,
The Battle Raging All Around.
For Now He Is Not All Alone.
This Fallen Soldier Is Welcomed Home.
poem by Branden Hidalgo
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The Bowl and The Spoon
i hear the sound of humanity's voices,
the sound of suffering and need.
i smell the fear, and i feel the anger,
of those left alone, the victims of greed.
i feel the hate of the guns and the bombing,
the terror of women and children.
i cry the tears and shed blood with them,
i hear the prayers of the dead for the living.
i feel the hunger of children left starving,
i am the anger of the unemployed in line.
i breathe the despair of those left homeless,
i am the hope of those looking for a sign.
i am the body that somehow god needed,
i am the ears the lonely pray for.
i am the eyes that see through the heart,
the prisoner walking through the last door.
i hear the sound of the baby crying,
i feel the mother walking across the room.
i am the father praying for work,
i am the bowl and i am the spoon.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Do They Come Clean?
at the end of the day,
when we wash our hands,
do they come clean?
homeless people, young girls
sold on the block,
hungry children, AIDS victims,
gotta watch your stocks.
black and white, brown and red,
gunfire and poverty;
kids afraid to go to school,
aint no profit in honesty.
SUV's, invaded countries,
oil doesnt buy liberty.
the takers take, the hurting weep,
at the cost of dignity.
politicians lie, preachers sell
narrow minded philosophies.
prisons full, bodies in the street,
the faces of reality.
smoke fills the air, oil fills the seas,
trade the future for the fix.
unemployed standing in line,
faceless numbers, brick upon brick.
close your door, shut your windows,
turn up the sound....
of anger, despair, and loss....
cries for help as they drown...
tell me....
at the end of the day,
when we wash our hands,
do they come clean?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dare We Speak Of Freedom?
dare we speak of freedom
when children are starving?
when families are lost without homes?
when speaking the truth has become a crime?
when we bomb women and children
in the name of oil?
when the jobless roam long forgotten lines?
when religions persecute each other?
when prejudice is so deep we dont even see it?
when poverty's children have no means of escape?
when the prison business thrives?
and justice for profit be the way?
when medical care is a privilege for the few?
when everything we do, and everything we say,
is being watched?
when hatred beats the drum, and rattles the swords?
dare we speak of freedom?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ballad (Bells Of Eternity)
with garbled tongues and mouths ablaze,
we walk this hallowed ground.
with angel's wings and demon's dreams,
trying to rhyme the holy sound.
into the depths of human need,
far past the touch of grasp.
the broken glass feel of the naked real,
that doesnt have to ask!
we forge our peace with weapons of war,
our gods are never satisfied.
swords converting, phallic spurting,
deciding who lives and who dies.
we drink the earth with maddened thirst,
and burn the pages of the book.
leaving smoking trails and personal hells,
for those who dare to look.
i cannot but speak, i cant go on,
the silence clutches at my breath.
to live this life in toil and strife,
to be forgotten in your death.
still glass images of the faces,
whose eyes burn but never turn.
whose hearts darkened by the angry blow,
sacred flesh that time discerns.
to be continued....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lonely Child
Lonely child in the night.
Under heaven's golden lights.
I heard you cry near a stream.
Where maidens sing and sleep and dream.
Lonely child have no fear, the lord will dry your heart-
sick tears.
The night is young, a blue jay flies and whispers softly
please don't cry.
The lord above is free to roam he will help you from his
throne.
The lord loves you true and dear.
He only laughs he never swears.
Lonely child please don't run, beneath the sky, moon or sun.
You parents love you yes they do.
The clouds have dimmed, but no one knew.
Lonely child a lion prowls.
This lion is special he'd dare not bite.
He only hunts game in the wild never children o' lonely child.
Lonely child go back home, cross the deserts
where buffalo roamed.
The lord will lead you safe and clear.
So don't you cry nor shed a tear.
You parents miss your loving touch.
Your loving hugs and summer blush.
They miss the way you'd smile and grin.
You think they wouldn't you're only ten?
Lonely child in the night.
Your parents searched day and night.
For a child in the wild.
Their only son you lonely child.
Lonely child don't you cry.
And don't you dare tell a lie, on the lion in the wild.
He'd never hurt you lonely child.
Your parents love you very much.
So let them feel your loving touch.
Lonely child in the night.
A little dove flew, in fright.
I know you love your parents so.
So run and tell them let them know.
Let them know how you feel.
Let them know your love is real.
Lonely child run or fly.
Soar the heavens and the skies.
Soar the rivers and the streams.
Your smile will make the moonlight, beam.
Lonely child in the night, an angel, there's no need for fright.
poem by Shawn Henley
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Lonely Child
Lonely child in the night.
Under heaven's golden lights.
I heard you cry near a stream.
Where maidens sing and sleep and dream.
Lonely child have no fear, the lord will dry your heart-
sick tears.
The night is young, a blue jay flies and whispers softly
please don't cry.
The lord above is free to roam he will help you from his
throne.
The lord loves you true and dear.
He only laughs he never swears.
Lonely child please don't run, beneath the sky, moon or sun.
You parents love you yes they do.
The clouds have dimmed, but no one knew.
Lonely child a lion prowls.
This lion is special he'd dare not bite.
He only hunts game in the wild never children o' lonely child.
Lonely child go back home, cross the deserts
where buffalo roamed.
The lord will lead you safe and clear.
So don't you cry nor shed a tear.
You parents miss your loving touch.
Your loving hugs and summer blush.
They miss the way you'd smile and grin.
You think they wouldn't you're only ten?
Lonely child in the night.
Your parents searched day and night.
For a child in the wild.
Their only son you lonely child.
Lonely child don't you cry.
And don't you dare tell a lie, on the lion in the wild.
He'd never hurt you lonely child.
Your parents love you very much.
So let them feel your loving touch.
Lonely child in the night.
A little dove flew, in fright.
I know you love your parents so.
So run and tell them let them know.
Let them know how you feel.
Let them know your love is real.
Lonely child run or fly.
Soar the heavens and the skies.
Soar the rivers and the streams.
Your smile will make the moonlight, beam.
poem by Shaan Sidhu
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I Walk Alone...
i am the last rebellion,
the fire you cannot control.
i am the faces of lost bodies,
names written in blood.
i am the call to battle,
armed by the heart.
i am the silence that knows,
the darkness that takes.
i am poverty's shadow,
and the language of need.
i am the anger of the beaten,
i am the field forsaken.
i am the tint of skin,
and the color of the eyes....
the song of the shovel and whip.
i am the bones of the old ones,
shaking with rage.
the tears of the grandmothers,
the dirty hands of small children.
i am the soldier imprisoned,
on the streets of despair.
i am the conscience of the murderer,
that haunts the night.
i am the bodies of lovers,
glistening with passion.
i am the child born,
neath a sky with no star.
i am the crucifix and prayer beads,
the hymn known only by trees.
i am the dog abandoned,
rain falling without remorse.
i am the monk self-immoliated,
the cry for freedom unheard.
i am human dignity,
and i walk alone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A child stuck in time
To sleep
to toss and turn
hoping not to dream tonight
in the grips of horrible nighmares
wishing not to see your
face
I'M a child stuck in time
I'm a child bleeding and
crying on the floor after
your done with me
I'm a child wishing for
you to stop hurting me
I'm a child stuck in time
I'm a child that doesnt
laugh only cries and
jumps at any physical touch
I'm a child who only
dreams of your face
I'm a child who thinks every
man is like you good or bad
I'm a child who doesnt believe in God
I'm a child stuck in time
poem by Babygirl 1992
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What Color? (Hope)
what color
was the dust
from which the stars
were made?
what color is the hunger
written on the child's face?
what color is justice,
forgiveness, desire, truth?
what color is the wind....
the rain, gravity,
and knowledge?
what color is equality?
what color is freedom?
what color is eternity?
what color is redemption?
what color is God?
what color were the nails
that hung Jesus on the cross?
what color was enlightenment
falling on the Buddha as he sat
'neath that tree?
what color is prejudice, hatred,
fear, greed, apathy.....
what color your skin?
nay, what color is your blood?
and what color are the eyes
of humanity staring through the darkness?
and what color is hope?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Don't Cry, Child
Don't cry, child
For children starving far away
For homeless people on the streets
Begging for change.
Don't cry, child
For those of us who have no dreams
Who live in dark holes
That we dig ourselves, laboriously - why?
Don't cry, child
For forgotten rainbows
Or melancholy rainstorms
For wispy clouds, always drifting away.
Don't cry, child
For who you are not
Or who you have been
For who you are.
Don't cry, child
For the last animal of it's kind
The mother who cannot feed her children
A planet in need.
Don't cry, child
When you stand on the edge of forever
And wish you could fly
And see the world at your fingertips.
Don't cry, child
For long-gone yesterdays
Or yearned-for tomorrows
Don't cry, child
For what you have done today
Forgive
Start a new day
Make it better than the last.
poem by Nina Dringo
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Weep Not Child
weep not child
wipe those tears from your eyes
weep not child
weep not for you are not alone
weep not child
wipe those very tears
surely, over the years
but somewhat he above us cares
your struggle he bears
to wipe them off and clears
the shackles
and tackles
of all scuffles
and troubles
weep not child
for you are not alone.
®ntema, o.p.
[email protected]
©05.09.2011
1325h rs
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Her Child A Soldier
Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears.
Longing for the heart of her child.
A soldier.
Dark treacherous night.
Hidden plights.
Sad, saddened life.
Lost again.
Weeping men... Lost sins.
Forge on, forgiven sights.
And heights.
Quiet stories, unfound glories.
Oh, the heart of her child.
A soldier.
Dayless sleep, nightless dreams.
Only a man.
Desires arms of peace.
Peace... oh peace, how tragic does it weep.
Hopeful smiles come and pass.
Again to ravage a life.
Changed.
An invisible cage - holds faith.
Hope, … anger, … rage, … caged, … at bay.
Visible faces, and unseen places.
Oh, the truth of her child.
A soldier.
Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears.
Longing for the heart of her child... a soldier.
poem by Karen van Wyk
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The Son In Old Age
Thy noble face, Regina, calls to mind
My poor lost little one, my latest born.
He was a gift from God--a sign of pardon--
That child vouchsafed me in my eightieth year!
I to his little cradle went, and went,
And even while 'twas sleeping, talked to it.
For when one's very old, one is a child!
Then took it up and placed it on my knees,
And with both hands stroked down its soft, light hair--
Thou wert not born then--and he would stammer
Those pretty little sounds that make one smile!
And though not twelve months old, he had a mind.
He recognized me--nay, knew me right well,
And in my face would laugh--and that child-laugh,
Oh, poor old man! 'twas sunlight to my heart.
I meant him for a soldier, ay, a conqueror,
And named him George. One day--oh, bitter thought!
The child played in the fields. When thou art mother,
Ne'er let thy children out of sight to play!
The gypsies took him from me--oh, for what?
Perhaps to kill him at a witch's rite.
I weep!--now, after twenty years--I weep
As if 'twere yesterday. I loved him so!
I used to call him 'my own little king!'
I was intoxicated with my joy
When o'er my white beard ran his rosy hands,
Thrilling me all through.
poem by Victor Hugo
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Companions....
we are not two...
we are one!
the distance between us
is our silence.
the bridge that joins,
again our silence!
the scent of the shadow,
is only me.
i looked in the mirror,
and saw your face.
raised the fork to my mouth,
and fed your hunger.
you raise the cup,
and my lips part.
i breathe,
and your eyes open.
my skin has no color,
yours changes with the seasons.
i plant a tree,
you rake the grass.
i weep for the hungry,
you weep for the homeless.
we keep building boats,
and giving them away.
i am a man, a woman,
you a woman, a man...
we are the earth,
redeeming herself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Freedom Doesnt
freedom doesnt starve it's children,
freedom doesnt sell it's people into slavery.
freedom doesnt see skin color,
doesnt always speak english.
freedom doesnt have one religion.
freedom doesnt choose sexual preference.
freedom doesnt regulate love.
freedom doesnt trade joblessness for profit.
freedom doesnt take your home.
freedom doesnt create reservations, slums,
and low rent trailer parks.
freedom doesnt ban books.
freedom doesnt invade and conquer.
freedom doesnt trade blood for oil.
freedom doesnt imprison those it cannot use.
freedom doesnt live by the lie.
freedom doesnt have different levels of justice,
depending on how much money you have.
freedom doesnt abandon it's elderly.
freedom doesnt turn away the sick.
freedom doesnt kill in the name of god.
freedom doesnt lie about the past.
damn it to hell!
this doesnt smell like freedom!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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