Speak Not To Me Of Hell....
there is no need to speak to me of hell.....
i hear the cries of women and children
dying in the bombing...
i feel the tears of mothers burying
their only sons.
i reel with the hunger,
of refugees and homeless families.
i hurt with the anger,
of the poor and desperate.
i can smell the failure,
that drives people over the edge.
i am imprisoned,
with those behind your bars...
speak not to me of hell,
but rather redemption and action...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Does God weep on the misfortunes of man?
the flood that kills a thousand men
and women and children
the massive mud that buried
them
looking like frozen statues
the lava, the tidal waves
that hit the islands
the virus without cure
the disease
the plague
the consumption of so much number
numbing
to our sense of dignity
the rape that fathers commit to their daughters
and even sons
the mothers that kill the fetus
to save their faces from shame
what more?
let us count the miseries of men & women and children
the fear that grip them
the chaos that always comes
in wars
in famine
in nuclear hatred of one country
to another
the hunger, many more deaths to come
the exploding population
too many neglected children
and too many to ignore
the rich & advantaged caring less
the insignificance of the voices of those
who speak
their valid concerns
does God really weep?
does God really care?
does God signify
any sign of presence
of any divine intervention?
did he say we are free?
did he say he respects this freedom that we take pride in
that we won from the snake in that paradise?
is God here?
do you really hear him weeping?
i want to hear my God
i want to hear Him speak
i want Him, forgive me, to weep,
but i have not seen the tears
i have not heard any sound of weeping...
i guess, if he is here, if he is here at all,
i will still respect, and worship & love Him,
even if i hear Him laughing....
for what am i?
i am just his slave, his servant, though he may call Me
brother,
or his beloved son
to Him, i can be, even
nothing
one that he can always
put in Hell and set aside as a useless spark
in the vast space that he owns
one that he can also save
by His Mercy and Grace....
i know, but i will always wait
for His answers, even from the passing wind
i am always thirsty and asking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Am Not That Privileged
What is it you are thinking?
'I'm thinking of all the people,
Referred to as refugees.
When that hurricane Katrina,
Left 'those' people desperate...
Homeless and hungry.'
They were not 'refugees'.
They were citizens.
'Oh.
I see.
And why no mention of 'refugees' left,
Desperate, hungry and homeless...
By a wider devastation,
Created by the hurricane Sandy? '
A depiction of priorities have changed.
And obviously quite different.
'I see.'
Is there an implication you are trying to emphasize?
'Of course not.
I am not that privileged,
To pass judgements with prerogatives.
I've learned too many lessons too early.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Boy to A Man
Father dear father
I must have loved you
But to hear you
Hurt my mother
Made me want
To hate you
I should have been able
To look up to you like all sons do
But all I wanted to do
Was hurt you
I'd lie in bed awake
And hear my mothers cries
All I could do
Was try find a world without you
We feared you
We fled you
But we could
Never escape you
Untill one dark night
I stopped you
And saw the fear
In your eyes
I went from boy to a man
To stop my mothers cries
I still look back with sadness
But I can still see my mothers pride
As I stand by her side
Boy to a man
In loving memory to my mother
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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I Speak For Hell
Speak for Hell my dear
As I speak for Hell,
Follow my steps and lets
Quench forever our thirst.
Lets enjoy the pleasure,
As we consumate our treasure.
We are bound for Hell
As we disengage from righteousness,
The Abrahamic Religion said,
But if Hell in inevitable,
Like Religious hipocrites said,
Then what do I care for my share
As we all sit in Hell's table?
poem by Efe Benjamin
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A War Raging On
There's a war raging on
Though I know not where
There are people fighting
Though they do not care
Soldiers are fighting
Mothers are crying
Fathers are preaching
For their sons are dying,
For their is a war killing
And no one really cares.
There's bullets shooting
As I see the guns loading
And there's planes flying
For I feel the bombs exploding,
I see war and I see blood
And death upon the sand
There's hunger and death
I still see in His hand,
For there's people killing
As I see the blood flowing.
There's soldiers marching
For I hear them coming
The killing is flowing
For I see the children running,
There are people being shot
Poets getting caught
Murderers being sought
Lessons again being taught,
For there is a war raging
As the soldiers are hunting.
There is a war coming
For I hear the horns blowing
There is more killing coming
For I see the hate growing,
Children are getting killed
Burying bombs in the fields
Land is being destroyed
Mountains are becoming hills,
For there is a war coming
For I see the hate showing.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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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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These Are (My Children)
standing in line at the mission,
they're ladeling bowls of steaming soup.
the winter wind whips down
between the buildings like a knife...
pulling tattered coats tight hunching.
and i can hear Shantideva whisper,
his hand on the ladel...
his body the meat of the soup,
his blood the broth...
'these are my children! '....
they walk in long staggered lines,
refugees from the bombing...
hungry scared children clinging,
afarid to lose sight of...
what's left of their families.
nothing behind, and nowhere to go,
not on any side...
and i can hear Jesus whisper,
His life the torch that lights the way,
His body the shelter against the night,
His blood the water, His hands stir the rice...
'these are My children! '....
the addict shivers, strung out and desperate...
the homeless family huddles in the car.
the young prisoner sleepless with the fear,
the old man going hungry feeds his bedridden wife...
the jobless young father begs to pick up trash...
and i know beyond all doubt,
my body, my soul, my spirit...
the wind that hears their cry.
'for these are my children! '...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Posting Pictures
i'm going to quit writing poetry,
and start taking pictures...
pictures of the homeless,
the jobless, the hungry,
the war victims, drug victims,
crime victims, victims of oppressive
regimes, beaten, imprisoned, threatened...
starting right here!
the elderly left to die in want,
those left to live on the street,
families sleeping in cars,
parents burying their children...
smoke stacks smoking,
nuclear disasters, oil spills,
mountains being mined,
timber being cut...
lonely people walking alone!
small children crying...
lovers left in the cold...
empty churches full of people.
i'm going to post these pictures in color
for all the world to see,
post them in dead silence...
maybe then someone will hear,
hear, and offer a hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Wail Of Poverty
i hear the wail of poverty,
feel the constant pressure
in my chest...
staring with eyes,
hardened and hungry,
looking for a break.
working past the point
of numbness,
sleepless under the weight...
i hear the cries of small children,
with every step i take.
i smell the anger,
and it smells like me,
the cold sweat of desperation.
the bullet phone,
or papers served,
one step from the edge.
i taste the tears
that men dont cry,
and the cold silence
of the women.
the car that wont crank,
the lights shut off,
the eviction notice on the door.
i hear the prayers of poverty,
prayed to a god that doesnt hear.
see the faces, and know the names,
and recognize the footsteps at the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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.
You Will Find Poverty
You will find poverty in the U S and Great Britain, in France and in Japan,
In Canada and in Australia, New Zealand as well as Iran
In South America and Europe, Africa and all through Asia as well
Throughout the Human World some in their Earthly Hell
In the past decade millions of people of hunger have died
As the gap between the haves and the have nots grow wide
In the World's wealthiest Countries homeless people not rare
So many poor people for every millionaire
And the social divide growing wider by the day
And that the poor are growing poorer does seem sad to say
In The Human World poverty of varying degrees
In the refugee camps millions of refugees
And poverty not a stranger anywhere
So many poor souls in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Heart Bleeds (98)
I fancy I can hear the sufferers moaning
The starving woman and the dying man
The malnourished children with the hunger blown pot bellies
My heart bleeds for the people of Sudan.
But these people they need far more than sympathy
They need food and care and medicine right away
They have eaten the seeds that they had to be planted
And hundreds die of hunger every day.
For life's small blessings I ought to be thankful
For I am one who doesn't have cause for moan
Compared to many I feel very privileged
The pangs of hunger I have never known.
One of my neighbours never stops complaining
He grumbles by life he is hard done by
But he looks overweight from over eating
And of malnutrition he will never die.
And another I know he tried to take his own life
Because his girlfriend left him he is in despair
I feel more pity for those dying of hunger
For a broken heart is not beyond repair.
In a Land ravaged by disease drought and hunger
To live to thirty years seen as a lengthy span
And my sympathy is with the starving millions
The hungry and the homeless of Sudan.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Let The Children Speak
Time - way out of line
A whole nation waits outside
The rhythm of tomorrow
They can dance away their sorrows tonight
Lost - broken and scarred
Prisoner waits outside with his lone heart beating
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Let the children - let the children speak
Aims - dangerous games
Their mother says one false move and we all get hurt
I feel this sense of power I feel it every hour tonight
Lets not get lazy tonight
Things could get crazy cos
One more kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Im begging you now let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Lets not get lazy tonight
Things could get crazy cos
One last kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Things could get crazy tonight
Lets not get lazy cos
One last kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Im begging you now
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
The language of this world
Lets not get lazy cos
One false move and we all get hurt
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
The language of this world
Things could get crazy
Written by kerr/burchill (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Hell
Women got legs, men got pants
I got the picnic, you got the ants,
Put it in the fire heaven knows
Take my torch and touch your toes in hell
Its a burning hell
You can burn in hell
Its a burning hell
You can burn in hell
Its a burning hell
Women dont fret, boys dont bet
Let me see your silhouette in hell
Women above me take my love
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love
Its a burning hell
Its a burning hell
Baby, baby, baby, Im hell
Its a burning hell
Girl stop moving, boy behave
Baby, Ill put you in an early grave in hell
Love on the ceiling, love on the floor
Im gonna leave you burning for more
Burn in the country, burn downtown
All the best people are burning down in hell, hell, ah hell
Its a burning hell
Youll burn in hell
Its a big, burning, giant, colossal matter
Hell
Oh baby, Im hell
Burn, burn, burn!
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Many Heavens
How many heavens
Are there? If not hell
What would I care.
Does your religion
Speak for heaven?
Well I speak for hell
Fate of many a Christian
(Many a Moslem)
The Abrahamic Religion
What does it tell about hell
(About this world with end)
Well, I like the veil on your head,
It tells of your holiness
(Your wickedness perhaps)
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One & The Same
Feat. ndea davenport
One and the same, one and the same
I wish I could see beyond the filthy blue horizon, see what lies ahead of me
Perhaps Id see the path of my own destruction
And avoid my destiny, she said heaven and hell is one and the same boy
She told me heaven and hell, boy, was one and the same
We all meet somewhere in the middle
She told me heaven and hell, boy, is one and the same
I said it cant be true
I wish I could touch you in some totally new fashion
Who are you girl, Im a man, now I cant guarentee your complete satisfaction
So Im gonna do you the very best way I can
She said heaven and hell is one and the same, boy
She told me heaven and hell, boy, is one and the same
We all meet somewhere in the middle
She told me heaven and hell, boy, is one and the same
I said it cant be true
Wish I could find some time to stop and smell the roses
My landlord wont let me be, my head is full of paranoia
New roses, tryin to consume my identity
She said heaven and hell is one and the same, boy
She told me heaven and hell, boy, is one and the same
We all meet somewhere in the middle, yes we do
She told me heaven and hell, boy, is one and the same
I said it cant be true, it just cant be true
Children grow and women produce and men go work and some go stealin (repeat x1)
Heaven and hell (children grow and women produce), here on earth (and men go work and some go stealin) x7
song performed by by Everlast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speak... Or Else Be Silent!
if you must speak,
speak not of distance or seperation!
speak without claiming identity,
without shouting, 'self'!
speak without grasping,
clawing, and holding.
keep your judgements to yourself!
i dont need to know the color of your god,
or what war you say he was born during.
i am more refugee than disciple,
i will not follow!
speak not of streets of gold
where angels play harps!
let us speak of these streets...
hard and raw, struggling and fighting,
dimly lit, stinking of urine.
littered with the trash of human lives.
speak of the exploding flash we call moment,
and the kingdom of heaven
that sweats and bleeds!
speak of the cries of the children!
speak of hunger and poverty,
injustices, and the cry for equality!
speak of the god that inhabits
the bodies of the lost and oppressed,
their faces etched by human cruelty...
scarred by apathy and indifference.
speak the truth!
bark like a dog,
meow like a cat,
chirp like a sparrow,
beat rhythm with your wings!
speak living words....
or else be silent!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cries
the sound of gunfire
and the pound of bombing
rhyming...
the cries of dying children,
the cries of a dying earth,
the cry of humanity seaching
for itself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Facing Hell
You make promise of protection
To a future after life
To the final resurrection
And to eternal paradise
But then I'm blinded with temptation
And to every mortal sin
Is it God that sits there waiting?
Or will the darkness suck me in
Let's wake up the dead
Oh yeah
It's better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
I'm praying that you'll never know
That I'm facing hell
Oh the children sit and listen
The belief was in their eyes
In a land without tomorrows
Through the night you hear their cries
But then your eyes just skip the pages
Of a book that never ends
Is it God that sits there waiting?
Do you hear the call again?
Let's wake up the dead
Oh yeah
It's better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
I'm praying that you'll never know
That I'm facing hell
It's just crazy world we live in
And I'm out of my mind
You pray tomorrow but your leaving today
Evil one is coming and he's knocking your door
Cause todays the day you'll pay
Let's wake up the dead
Oh yeah
It's better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
I'm praying that you'll never know
Let's wake up the dead
Oh yeah
It's better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
I'm praying that you'll never know
That I'm facing hell
That I'm facing hell
That I'm facing hell
That I'm facing hell
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne from Down To Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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