Stand Naked Before God!
i am more...
than 40 years of working,
50 hours a week.
more than a paycheck,
a bag of groceries,
the rent and the lights.
more than the hope
of a social security check!
i am more than a father,
a grandfather, and a last name.
more than an opinion, and a cup of coffee.
my name is not nobody,
i have a face.
i am not a statistic,
nor a grave waiting to be filled.
i am a man,
i have desires, wants, and needs.
like an oak tree i've stood,
and weathered the storms of seasons.
my branches are home
to all kinds of life...
now i'm ready to shed my leaves,
and stand naked before god!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rent, Groceries And Gasoline
I used to live the luxury life
A new house, three cars to drive
Steppin' over the credit line
I was payin' a heavy price
It seemed more was never enough
So I called my creditor up
Said "All I need is that cadillac car,
I'm heading for a brand new start"
I was in way to deep
Straightened out my priorities
I'm a man of simple needs
Just rent, groceries, and gasoline
I got a trailer sturdy and cheap
Hot time, job work when I please
Goin' to Mexico next week
Gotta feel that ocean breeze
I might settle down sometime
Right now, it ain't on my mind
Got a pretty girl along for the ride
She's the adventurous kind
I got everything I need
Straightend out my priorities
I'm a man of simple means
Just rent, groceries, and gasoline
Got a full tank and some food to go
Check the map and we'll hit the road
In the flicker of the dashboard lights
I feel my life unwind
I got everything I need
Straightend out my priorities
I'm a man of simple means
Just rent, groceries, and gasoline
Rent, groceries, and gasoline
I need rent, groceries, and gasoline
Just give me rent, groceries, and gasoline
And I'm outta here!
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rent, Groceries, & Gasoline
I used to live the luxury life
A new house, three cars to drive
Steppin over the credit line
I was payin a heavy price
It seemed more was never enough
So I called my creditor up
Said all I need is that cadillac car,
Im heading for a brand new start
I was in way to deep
Straightened out my priorities
Im a man of simple needs
Just rent, groceries, and gasoline
I got a trailer sturdy and cheap
Hot time, job work when I please
Goin to mexico next week
Gotta feel that ocean breeze
I might settle down sometime
Right now, it aint on my mind
Got a pretty girl along for the ride
Shes the adventurous kind
I got everything I need
Straightend out my priorities
Im a man of simple means
Just rent, groceries, and gasoline
Got a full tank and some food to go
Check the map and well hit the road
In the flicker of the dashboard lights
I feel my life unwind
I got everything I need
Straightend out my priorities
Im a man of simple means
Just rent, groceries, and gasoline
Rent, groceries, and gasoline
I need rent, groceries, and gasoline
Just give me rent, groceries, and gasoline
And Im outta here!
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting In Vain
I STAND ALONE UNDER THAT TREE
WAITING FOR YOU
I DON’T SEE THE HOURS FLYING BY
THE PEOPLE DARTING BY
THE TREE UNDER WHICH WE HAD MET
DAYS PASS INTO MONTHS AND YEARS
STILL AM WAITING FOR YOU
AS TIME PASSES BY THE LOVE FOR YOU
GROWS AS THE BRANCHES OF THE TREE
BUT ONE DAY ALL THE LOVE SHATTERED
AS I SEE YOU UNDER THAT TREE
IN SOMEBODY ELSES ARMS.
ALL THOSE YEARS OF WAITING WAS REWARDED
BY THE HAPPINESS YOU HAVE
BUT AM LEFT BEHIND THINKING
IS THIS THE ONE I WAITED FOR
ALL THESE YEARS IN VAIN.
poem by Kanu Aravind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aftermath
'The Tree Still Stands! '
Exclaimed the boy clasping his hands
To his Father who was walking the rear,
And to his Grandfather who was nowhere near.
For happy was He.
For standing there so straight and tall
Was the tree whose limbs He crawled
And the branches from which He played,
And the root where His head once laid.
And the many leaves.
Now the Father whom hearing His Son
Came to his side in a moment run
Then He stopped; for the tree He saw
Then the Father just stood in awe,
And uttered; 'my old friend'.
For standing there was His friend
From which before His youth was spent
By climbing and playing games,
And hiding under, from the cold and rain.
And the wind.
Then the Grandfather came strolling up
And He paused, in a moment hush
To reflect to a different year
When He was a Child, and He cried a tear.
And He clasped His hands.
For he was then again a Child
And then again He cried and smiled,
For He remembered His Father and He,
And how together they planted a tree.
And it still stands.
'Thank GOD the tree still stands! '
Cried the Grandfather clasping His hands.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm An Old Tree
Here is my beloved home
I'm an old tree
I grew up here
Here's where I belong
Here's the only place
Where I can face
In rough human race
Inspite of all difficulties and aches
Still I'm standing here
Here I've planted love seeds
I'm like an old trees
Don't take me off my root
My branches revive and sigh here
Since thousands and thousands of years
I'm an old tree that's living here
Inside these fields I've grew old
My branches and my leaves
Once they've born here
The only place they've been
How can I leave
I have memories here
All my childhood years
My desires and all my dreams
Are planted right here within
These fields I've born and ill live in
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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14 Hours
14 hours to go
And the waiting's almost done
When I get back home
You're going to be the only one
Staring at the lights or staring at the sun
Everyday another fight or ill to overcome
Another day another place
Forgot the name but not the face
I've been away for too long to remember
14 hours to go
And the waiting's almost done
When I get back home
You're going to be the only one
Suspended animation countdown has begun
Hurry up and wait for all of the things that must be done
It doesn't matter what state I'm in
They've all been waiting so let's begin
I know that when I'm back I'm going to miss it
I hate it when someone complains about their life
So I hope you know exactly what I'm saying
You won't get what you want without a sacrifice
Just be careful what you wish for you might get it
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Ice Cube they ain't no telling. He might have one cocked and loaded, ready to bust. We might do The Sunday, two old men sitting around the house waiting on the social security check.
Millworker
Now my grandfather was a sailor
He blew in off the water
My father was a farmer
And i, his only daughter
Took up with a no good millworking man
From massachusetts
Who dies from too much whiskey
And leaves me these three faces to feed
Millwork aint easy
Millwork aint hard
Millwork it aint nothing
But an awful boring job
Im waiting for a daydream
To take me through the morning
And put me in my coffee break
Where I can have a sandwich
And remember
Then its me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life
Now my mind begins to wander
To the days back on the farm
I can see my father smiling at me
Swinging on his arm
I can hear my granddads stories
Of the storms out on lake eerie
Where vessels and cargos and fortunes
And sailors lives were lost
Yes, but its my life has been wasted
And I have been the fool
To let this manufacturer
Use my body for a tool
I can ride home in the evening
Staring at my hands
Swearing by my sorrow that a young girl
Ought to stand a better chance
So may I work the mills just as long as I am able
And never meet the man whose name is on the label
It be me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
And the rest of the afternoon
Gone for the rest of my life
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Millworker
(james taylor)
Now my grandfather was a sailor,
He blew in off the water
My father was a farmer
I, his only daughter,
Took up with a no-good millworking man from massachusetts
Who dies from too much whiskey
And leaves me these three faces to feed
Millwork aint easy; mill-work aint hard
Millwork, it aint nothing but an awful boring job
Im waiting for a day dream
To take me through the morning
And put me in my coffee break
Where I can have a sandwich and remember
Then its me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life
Now my mind begins to wander
To the days back on the farm
I can see my father smiling at me,
Swingin on his arm
I can hear my grand-dads stories
Of the storms out on lake erie
Where vessels and cargos and fortunes
And sailors lives were lost
Yes, but its my life has been wasted,
And I have been the fool
To let this manufacture use my body for a tool.
I can ride home in the evening,
Staring at my hands
Swearing by my sorrow that a young girl
Ought to stand a better chance
So may I work the mills
Just as long as I am able
And never meet the man whose
Name is on the label
It be me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homeless.
At the midnight, when street lights make
chiaroscuro on the face of unknown straggler,
someone raps on the door 'are you home, my sweetheart? '
He stands-like a lonely tree on meditation,
like a wind rustling through the leaves,
like an old refrain 'are you home? '
The sweet pain numbs my heart for a while-
the moon with pale face rises behind the curtain,
someone plays a note of my saddest dream,
a high wind from the sea blows away the curtain-
I stood naked before the night with awful question,
' are you home, my dear? '
poem by Aloke Mukherjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Only Live Half A Life
you only live half a life
pay check to pay check
work day to work day
waiting for Friday night
waiting for two day weekend
waiting for next hit TV episode
waiting to pay for rent food
waiting for welfare check if not
lucky you still have a job
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am' tree series # 2
i am tall
i am straight
i am ' TREE
as i see my leaves falling to the ground
surrounding my trunk like a skirt.
my branches stretch to all four corners
north, south, east, west
and as they fall, i know then
that i am dying.
i stretch my head to the father sun
and scream for his strength.
and down to mother earth
to quench my thirst.
for hundreds of years, i have lived
and flourished with a beauty that
all mankind admires.
i then realized that it was' autumn.'
i am replenishing my life,
to enter a new one.
as my branches, which touch each point
north, south, east, west
so are the four seasons.
'i am ' tree
i live, i die, i revive.
my beauty like love is eternal
in the eyes of the beholder.
'I AM' TREE.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Miracle for Breakfast
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee,
waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb
that was going to be served from a certain balcony
--like kings of old, or like a miracle.
It was still dark. One foot of the sun
steadied itself on a long ripple in the river.
The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.
It was so cold we hoped that the coffee
would be very hot, seeing that the sun
was not going to warm us; and that the crumb
would be a loaf each, buttered, by a miracle.
At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.
He stood for a minute alone on the balcony
looking over our heads toward the river.
A servant handed him the makings of a miracle,
consisting of one lone cup of coffee
and one roll, which he proceeded to crumb,
his head, so to speak, in the clouds--along with the sun.
Was the man crazy? What under the sun
was he trying to do, up there on his balcony!
Each man received one rather hard crumb,
which some flicked scornfully into the river,
and, in a cup, one drop of the coffee.
Some of us stood around, waiting for the miracle.
I can tell what I saw next; it was not a miracle.
A beautiful villa stood in the sun
and from its doors came the smell of hot coffee.
In front, a baroque white plaster balcony
added by birds, who nest along the river,
--I saw it with one eye close to the crumb--
and galleries and marble chambers. My crumb
my mansion, made for me by a miracle,
through ages, by insects, birds, and the river
working the stone. Every day, in the sun,
at breakfast time I sit on my balcony
with my feet up, and drink gallons of coffee.
We licked up the crumb and swallowed the coffee.
A window across the river caught the sun
as if the miracle were working, on the wrong balcony.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Dance
Wake up! its a monday morning
No time left to say goodbye
Cant breathe and the lights are changing.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
Headlights, make it home by sundown
Feeling that the day is through
Return back to where you come from
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
You wake up in the mornin
And the suns comin up.
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And hours and hours and hours
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And you light up the stove
And the coffee cup, its hot.
And the orange juice is cold, cold, cold
Monday morning,
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
Its time to go,
Time to go to work.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
No, no, no.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Come Home
It must have been about a 100 years
At least a hundred years
I wish you would just come back
Just come back home
The day we met feels like 100 years ago
And Im still waiting with my hand right by the telephone
Yeah maybe where you are you cannot make that call
Or you cant find the pen I know its not your fault
CHORUS
My friends think Im insane
Cause I've turned old and gray
And Im still waiting and I cannot be alone
Please come home (please come home)
I watch the clock hands tick my hours turn to days
And I cant fall asleep cause I don't want to miss that ring
I know that this year your car will park outside
But I can't put my arms around the girl who took my life
REPEAT CHORUS
Its been so long
Its been about 100 years
And a million dreams since the last time
Ive seen your pretty face I would do whatever it takes
I would wait another 100 years
And if that didnt work
Maybe Ill try and see what forever feels like
But until then and I know you hear me
And whatever your doing wherever you are please come home
That day we met feels like 100 years ago
And Im still waiting for you
Baby baby wont you please come home
Please come home
Wont you please come home
Please come home
Wont you please come home (Please come home)
song performed by by Uncle Kracker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree
Ready with leaves and with buds stood the tree.
"Shall I take them?" the frost said, now puffing with glee.
"Oh my, no, let them stand,
Till flowers are at hand!"
All trembling from tree-top to root came the plea.
Flowers unfolding the birds gladly sung.
"Shall I take them?" the wind said and merrily swung.
"Oh my, no, let them stand,
Till cherries are at hand!"
Protested the tree, while it quivering hung.
The cherries came forth 'neath the sun's glowing eye.
"Shall I take them?" a rosy young girl's eager cry.
"Oh my, yes, you can take,
I've kept them for your sake!"
Low bending its branches, the tree brought them nigh.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Banyan Tree
Banyan tree, banyan tree
that century old banyan tree
standing grandeurly for us to see
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Cool breeze passing through
seeking blessings of banyan tree
branches shaking in approval
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Glassy green with majestic trunk
touching the earth, not breaking free
shelter home for different birds
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Yellowish streaks, some with reddish tinge
welcome every season with a glee
symbol of eternal life
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Shedding leaves, like tears falling
a grandfather lamenting on its knees
new plants cuddling around
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Lord Buddha became its buddy
meditation was the only key
peace you get underneath
that is why it is banyan tree.
Banyan tree, banyan tree
wish fullfilling, it is banyan tree
just pray here and let you see
Banyan tree, banyan tree.
A life giver and just for free
Banyan is my national pride
preserve these at any cost
don't commit a homicide?
God blessed us with banyan tree
heat absorbing banyan tree
has healing powers this banyan tree
banyan tree, banyan tree.
---- X -----
copyright/Children of Lost God/Tribhawan Kaul
All rights reserved
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Too Grand
I suppose if I wanted,
I could be a prude and standoffish.
With a résumé to prove,
In my life I've accomplished...
What few can and could do.
If...
I chose to put my nose up in the air.
And carried on with that kind of flair.
My mother's father,
Had been a leader of his own band.
Appearing here and there and across the land.
And for some reason then,
I couldn't 'stand' him.
He was just too grand!
And those feelings were mutual.
I just was not impressed.
Today?
I can understand why he was that way.
And I hope he has forgiven me for saying,
Whenever he telephoned to speak to my mom...
'Ma, some guy is on the phone claiming to be your father.
You know...
He of the George Frank Roberts Band.'
~That's 'your' grandfather.~
And I'm Sammy Davis, Junior.
Dedicated to my grandfather:
In Loving Memory
George Frank Roberts,
Englewood, New Jersey
'Love you, grand-daddy.
Even though we had 'many' differences,
of opinion.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A soldier stands
herei stand adn at my door a solder stand ready to deploy once more as he leaves off to war my eyes fill with tears once moreA soldier of one but hated by none brother to many loved by one a wife at home hes not alonei hear a cry and my son dont know whymy sons eye filled with tear cuz dads not herethe men come to tell me the bad new my soldiers gonebut fought real well at least hesnot going to hell.shots were fired shell were saved as a soldier lays in a grave here i stand and at my door no soldier ready to go to war
poem by Jessica Brocklesby
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Bacelli’s Walnut Tree
Bacelli’s Walnut Tree
Not far the corner of my home's knee
Just some yards above the road
Stands on its glory the Big Walnut Tree
Branched right and left over the road
As the years jump on line and the clock ticks
I can see through the epochs and curtain blinds
Babies being born, marriages, deaths, wars and miseries
Misfortunes and happiness experienced by Bacellis
This Big Walnut Tree, the old sincere angel
The witness so fair for a hundred years.
I often come back to this Walnut Tree
I kneel and pray in silence
As a great grandmother in need
I ate the tasty nuts of this tree
As my father, my pop did once
All of them fellows Bacelli
Yes, indeed my sons will try them too
My granddaughters and grandsons
The Walnut Tree fetches, embraces all generations
Keeping inside the live ones and protecting the dead Bacellis
When my father was gone and buried
The Walnut Tree joined me in grieving
Fruit stalled, tears dropped
No leaves, no flowers, no nuts, all disappeared
The Walnut Tree nearly did perish
It dried and vanished like a storm turning greyish
Other times the Big Walnut Tree shed tears
Three times, when Bacellis' house scorched on skies
Humbled disappearing fast through sparkling fires
The Big Walnut Tree of Bacellis
It's my home, my shelter and my roof
When I need to go back to my roots
To meet Bacellis and the dead ones that I miss
On my troubled days of New York
For crashed sweet nuts in my bag I check
With my finger I touch the exquisite silk
Of my Big Walnut Tree at home back
poem by Agim Bacelli
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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