Turning Wheel....
turning wheel....
newspaper clipping epitaphs,
dead bodies whisper
in the grasses turned brown...
water stagnant, stinking
with blackened greed....
children's hands severed,
lined up beneath the altar,
sacrificed to the gods
of an angry age...
even the trees weep,
and the mountains shudder!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
Blackened...
blackened steel...
blackened faces,
blackened hearts,
blackened roads...
blackened eyes,
blackened dreams,
blackened prayers,
blackened gods...
blackened memories,
blackened fingers,
blackened windows,
blackened rooms...
blackened thoughts,
blackened nails,
blackened shovels,
blackened tomb!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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We Who Whisper
we who whisper...
with our feet as we walk,
with our eyes turned inward,
with our bodies that weep.
we who weep...
with hands that tremble,
with quiet desperation,
with our prayers that build.
we who build...
with the ruins of our loss,
with our spirits broken,
with our hearts that bleed.
we who bleed...
with our trials and mistakes,
with our failures to reach,
with our love that whispers.
we who whisper...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Wade In The Water
(first release, live version minneapolis, december 22, 1961traditional, arranged by bob dylan)
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well, who are these children all dressed in red?
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Must-a-be the children that moses lead
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well out of the mountain come fire an smoke
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Jehovah nobody be he couldve spoke
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well, Im walkin down the highway an the waters gettin low
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Walkin down the highway, nowhere to go
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
But its wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Before Dawn....
i've been too long in the valley of death,
too long in the prisons, too long at the wheel.
too close to the blade, too far from the fire,
too long defined by lonliness and grief.
they say there's a wind,
that comes from a forbidden place.
that strips leaves from the trees,
and causes mountains to shudder.
they say there's a god,
whose name we cant say.
who walks naked in the instant,
just before dawn.
and they say there's a lover,
who smells like me.
who tastes like my hunger,
whose voice i know.
yes, and they say there's a time,
when the wars will cease.
when the hungry will be fed,
and someone will care.
and i pray there's a hand,
and eyes that shine...
that darkness will undress me,
and name the light!
that small kindnesses will turn,
the ancient potter's wheel.
and make me a cup,
held close by your heart.
if i dance tonight beneath trees that weep,
know that tomorrow i'll burn,
know that my lips wait still...
know that i am alive...
as words fall like leaves...
the cross i lay down,
is but a shovel, but a pen...
the page i write upon...
you, simply you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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On Crumpled Things
the brittle piece of chalk
crumples on the floor from the
hands of an angry teacher
her feet stamping upon
us, fragile and no longer
eager to learn
our first view on the violent
nature of those
monsters behaving
like gods
on crumpled things turning
into powder
in the same manner that
bodies turn
to ash
to dust
but must these gods know
inside those crumpled things and bodies
is the air that they have
not seen
the faces of our souls
passing through the storms and rain
rising to find for once
their homes in the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On A Moonlit Night....
even trees undress,
on a moonlit night...
and the grasses moan,
mountains shudder with joy.
the darkness weeps,
overcome with sheer beauty.
and the sky bends to touch,
as if a cloud!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hymn Of The Big Wheel (disc 2)
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
There's a hole in my soul like a cavity
Seems the world is out to gather just by gravity
The wheel keeps turning the sky's rearranging
Look my son the weather is changing
I'd like to feel that you could be free
Look up at the blue skies beneath a new tree
Sometime again
You'll turn green and the sea turns red
My son I said the power of reflections over my head
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
We sang about the sun and danced among the trees
And we listened to the whisper of the city on the breeze
Will you cry in the most in a lead-free zone
Down within the shadows where the factories drone
On the surface of the wheel they build another town
And so the green come tumbling down
Yes close your eyes and hold me tight
And i'll show you sunset sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
As a child solemn pray my hope hides in disguise
While satellites and cameras watch from the skies
An acid drop of rain recycled from the sea
It washed away my shadow burnt a hole in me
And all the king's men cannot put it back again
But the ghetto sun will nurture life
And mend my soul sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
(x2
song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn Of The Big Wheel
Horace andy
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
Theres a hole in my soul like a cavity
Seems the world is out to gather just by gravity
The wheel keeps turning the skys rearranging
Look my son the weather is changing
Id like to feel that you could be free
Look up at the blue skies beneath a new tree
Sometime again
Youll turn green and the sea turns red
My son I said the power of ? ? ? s over my head
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
We sang about the sun and danced about the trees
And we listened to the whisper of the city on the breeze
Will you cry ? ? ? in a lead-free zone
Down within the shadows where the factories drone
On the surface of the wheel they build another town
And so the green come tumbling down
Yes close your eyes and hold me tight
And Ill show you sunset sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
As a child solemn pray my hope hides in disguise
While satellites and cameras watch from the skies
An acid drop of rain recycled from the sea
It washed away my shadow burnt a hole in me
And all the kings men cannot put it back again
But the ghetto sun will nurture life
And mend my soul sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
(x2)
song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back To An Old Place
it is summer
scorching summer
season creeping,
grasses are wilting
trees are shedding of
their last leaves,
what i see are bones
of trees,
skeletons of
branches,
the dry wind keeps
blowing the leaves
away,
what i have is this
bald surrounding
emptied of their
essence
beyond me are
brown mountains
vultures are
in the skies
eying for
death as prey
i sit upon a rock
the only rock
left here
i have no cover on
my head
i am half naked
i have no one to talk
to,
they have left this
arid place
a long time ago
i am back
i am telling the
sand soil,
i have something
to write and
tell the world
about it
it is summer
in this vast desert
a long time ago
this was ours
and the trees are green
grasses verdant
butterflies flutter
and innocently
land on our
hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For M. P.
we have so many things in common
our brown color for instance
our sunken eyes
bodies deformed with so much
pressure
hands that no longer tremble
because time made the fingers
steel
we are deprived of the crown due
to our
severed heads
they toast for their success
in defrauding us of our
honors
soon, soon, we have waited long enough
the mountains flatten
the sea shall bloat
soon, soon, our names shall no longer be carved
in sand
soon, soon, we shall become a constellation that marks
the paths of heaven
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Black Hooves, White Snow
black hooves, white snow
candlewax dripping,
water from a rusted spicket.
brass doorknobs,
forbidden rooms,
where spider webs cover
forgotten books.
and the chant of the ancients
rolls like thunder!
strike the bell, mountains quiver!
somewhere the gods of old
walk deserted streets,
while the shepherd kings
raise their flutes and play.
and the old mad monk
walks into the hills,
never to be seen,
or heard again.
black hooves, white snow
the taste of blood,
the smell of need.
bows drawn tight,
the archers wait
for the sun to rise
in a blackened sky.
the wheel turns
in the desert sand
(nothing ever stays the same)
water wears down stone
until it finds it's way.
while trees fall in
a desolate forest,
and the hawk flies alone
down through the gorge.
black hooves, white snow
till we find our way!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Too Many Lies
too many lies,
desecrate the ground.
the footprints of fallen angels,
covered by the dust of hate.
spoon fed history turned bitter,
the sound of children's voices lost.
even the old juke joints,
deserted and vacant.
handmade guitars,
strings made of human flesh.
the howl of an angry wind,
pierces cardboard shelters.
cars abandoned on the side of the road,
fresh turned earth, no hands to plant.
passion's legs wrapped around,
the bodies now hollow.
young girls fall like rain,
forgotten by time.
to be madly in love,
and pant with desire...
all echoes and rust!
when bibles become weapons,
and the cost is too high.
dead poets whisper,
neath the old hanging tree.
flags flown at half mast,
and the factories are closed.
and you just cant remember
your grandfather's face!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Celtic Sonant
Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining star to you
Deep peace of the son of peace to you
One man stood firm guarding cups overflowing
Brimful of memories and yesterdays dreams
He could never explain his own silent thunder
The ocean just blows rough at this time of year
And the wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
Turning around
Away we will sail with all our flags flying
Too many changes can cause us delay
Each star in the sky is there for a reason
Making it so bright for this time of day
And the wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
This fool made it round
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lots Of Air In Here
got migraine
and tired of my doctor's prescriptions
which after all
lead to more complications
i decided to see my
quack doctor in the mountains
nearby
got inside his cave and
he chanted to the gods
of the trees
and the grasses
to the nymphs and elves
and dwarfs
to the gods of the underworld
and he came out with
an answer
'dear sir, you got lots of air
in your brain! '
o? i got brain.
My consolation.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunset
HOODED in angry mist, the sun goes down:
Steel-gray the clouds roll out across the Sea:
Is this a Kingdom? Then give Death the crown,
For here no emperor hath won, save He.
Though from the blackened grasses of the spring
The dead look up to where the swallow flies:
And in this woodland never a bird will sing-
The laughter lives within the sentry's eyes.
poem by Herbert Asquith
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Impotent Men!
impotent men...
their hands on the reins,
choking on the flesh
of the poor and subjugated.
while birds of prey circle,
bodies strewn on the streets;
another martini, stocks rise and fall!
the pipeline pulses, liquid death,
the eyes of the children
gone to marbles in the dust.
the prophets of profit
tilt their hats and turn away,
leaving the stench of their greed
on unmarked shallow graves.
their god is dead, the world keeps turning,
while the weak and the fallen
kneel in unholy prayer!
impotent men, beating their chests!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Haunting The Chapel
The holy cross
Symbol of life
Anticipate the lives of Christians born
Speak of death
The words of hate
Anticipate the rules among the dead
Hell has seen
Priests condemned
To bring forth the lord of the cross
Strike twelve
Raise the dead
The chapel comes under attack
The ghosts of dead
Torment the priest
Their altar will soon be destroyed
Heaven's mass
Turning black
The church will belong to the dead
Blackened magic
And thus we're lost
Lucifer will supreme
The crystal ball
Children of faith
Their lasting eternal scream
Those who never make the people scream
Have no task for all of time
Satan's form of soldiers stand in lust
Destruction charged upon the cross
Attacking there's seven ways to go
Tormenting the priest
song performed by by Slayer from Haunting The Chapel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am unable to understand how a man of honor could take a newspaper in his hands without a shudder of disgust.
quote by Charles Baudelaire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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