En.Citatepedia^®.ro

We Are! We Are!

we are not bolts of lightning,
or even unexpected rain...
we are the work of chapters,
the forging of steel.
the spider's web empty for a month of nights,
the garden sowed again and again.
trees cut and stacked in firewood lengths,
babies born in cementaries,
atop unmarked graves.
maps lost, histories forgotten,
dull knives sharpened again and again.
footprints in sand,
that the waves wash away.
wise men following the star,
generation to generation.
brown hands picking fruit,
that never touches their lips.
we are a thousand deaths,
fires that raged and were spent.
stars formed from dust,
that return to the same.
all these things and more,
and often less...
we are the mortar between bricks,
from which life is made!
we are! we are!
and that is enough!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Waiting For The Spider

how many small deaths?
nickels and dimes in dust filled pockets...
are we drifting off to sleep?
out to sea?
or further from the core?
we die in circles,
circles within circles.
with small short breaths hurled
on the hairy plate of eternity.
a thousand tiny fires,
built by unseen hands
on darkened roads...
a thousand tiny deaths!
or a thousand stop the world kisses,
when names and identities are forgotten,
if but for an eternal moment.
how many times must i be the butterfly?
the snail? the hummingbird flying backwards?
or just stagnant water in a cast aside tire...
waiting for the spider?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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FootPrints In The Sand

footprints in the sand
heading that way as it
leads away it leaves a
tale.

a tale of pain a tale of sorrow
a tale of hurt a tale to be told
whispir in my ear a tale of a
new generation
a generation of determination
where love is an everyday thing
and not as rare as a blue moon

so foot prints in the sand
your tale was heard as it hit
the nation pure like solid gold
so though your mist wash away
your tale live on till today

poem by Robert Roberts
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Brightter Star

life is like a star
it shines bright in one,
but in an other it can be a dead
dull star
when a star dies
what is left becomes a stronger
brighter and better star
like us when we die
the next generation can be
and will be a
brighter generation
that will creat a brighter future than the one we created

poem by Alberto Sanchez
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Soundtrack To A Generation

The smell of trees. can only be that way. on a sunny day.
Floating through the open window. to the cool inside.
Where we lay side by side. how can anything we feel. ever
Mean so much. as a summer love? how can anything we
Need. ever get in touch. with the meaning of.
A whole life waiting? wishing suddenly. that its going to be
The real thing. or separating. try your luck again. its just
Part of the adventure.
Holy cow. you do it to me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation. oh, wow. youre getting to me now. the
Soundtrack to a generation.
Another tune. before the light has gone. and well be on
Our way. the sounds and smells. will always linger on.
Theyre in my heart today.
We feel so lucky then. the worlds a massive place. but we
Run into each other. just one small happening. an accident
Of fate. or the work of co-conspirators? but if we knew.
What could it do. to help us now?
Holy cow. you do it to me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation. anyhow. just give it to me now. the
Soundtrack to a generation. oh wow. you really got me
Now. the soundtrack to a generation. holy cow. youre
Getting to me now. the soundtrack to a generation.
Years have gone on in between. but all I knew at
Seventeen. is all I know now now. through times of joy and
Suffering. the music flavours everything. thats all I know
Now.
Holy cow. you do it to me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation. oh wow. you really got me now. the
Soundtrack to a generation. anyhow just give it to me
Now. the soundtrack to a generation.
Just give it. youre getting. you do it you really got me now.
The soundtrack to a generation. oh wow. just give it.
Youre getting. you do it.
You really got me now. the soundtrack to a generation.
Oh wow. you really got me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation.

song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even God Is A Racist

God is a racist because
In the beginning
He created two human beings
Named Adam and Eve, which looked different
And sounded different under the tent
Each owned ten toes
Ten fingers, two hands
One face, one head, one nose
Two feet to wear sandals in the sand
Eventually, Adam and Eve had fun
They produced children
Which followed the tradition
From generation to generation
They emulated their parents
Who had fun too under many tents
Which became too congested
Too crowded, too populated
Ultimately, they scattered to other areas
Things became really serious
They followed the stars and the sun
They followed the rain and the moon
Overtime, their skin tone changed
They looked strange and deranged
They spoke different languages
Some became wise and others outrageous
And some lost their memories
Their common sense and their decencies
God is a true racist
Because he created one human race
At a very slow pace
Where it is possible
Not impossible
For men and women to coexist
In peace.

poem by Hebert Logerie
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In The Smallest Of Things

when chapters become books,
and passion becomes love...
written in hours and minutes,
in days and weeks...
and weeks become months,
and months become years...
footsteps woven into one.
days of work for nights of small things...
food, fire, children, good books
and good wine...
quiet words spoken, falling like leaves,
the candle lit by touching
in the darkest hours...
do we forget, do we lose memory,
do thoughts become echoes.
bricks laid by sweat and toil
are lost in the wall...
need becomes distance,
and curtains fall.....
you stare at the body,
as if some stranger...
and a lifetime given
like tiny shards of light,
nails covered with rust,
the spider's web empty.

only the trees know,
mountains, and lost caves.
raindrops falling,
and moonlight never named.
the dog barking in the night,
you think for no reason...
ah! but love testifies,
in the smallest of things!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Day America Died

i am the old farm house,
the iron skillet, and the well.
the mule and the plow,
and momma's family Bible.
i am the single shot.22,
squirrel dumplings,
and strawberry pie.
i am collard greens,
pintos, and cornbread.
i am the field plowed,
wood cut and stacked.
jars of green beans
stacked on the shelf.
i am the work hardened hand,
and the gentle touch.
i am the simple things,
that cant be bought.
i am generation after generation,
footstep after footstep.
the prayer of scrubbed faces,
and saturday night pickin'.
i am the day it all ended,
the day the bank came around...
the day America died!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Taste The Wonder....

she stands down in front of the mission,
smoking borrowed cigarettes,
grey thin soul you can see through.
chapters written in faded jeans,
and shoes too worn for footprints.
a mother, a daughter, a sister, a lover,
somebody's somebody, nobody's home.
bloomed out of season to a different beat,
in a garden of stone in the alley.

they say beauty walks these homeless streets,
perfumed by soup kitchen longing.
while babies bear babies and numbers are given,
she writes her name on dust covered windows.
as you and i pass with hurried thought,
never feeling what she already knows.
and graves take bodies as if by chance,
as rats gather to sing her praises.
how dare we speak or even dream?
for only she can taste the wonder!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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At What Point....

the seasons of births and deaths go on....
waves come in to the shore,
yet then go out!
leaves fall from the tree,
while new buds wait...
stars explode into dust,
then new stars are born.
infinity changes shoes again and again,
yet the same feet walk the endless path.
are not bodies then just cups,
into which light is poured again and again?
and souls are just chapters
of an unending book....
what do we really know?
at what point do we shout hallelujah?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Missing those old times

moon
sun stars
clouds
trees
seas lakes
hills

are these all
that you can say?

there are those that
must be given: light, mist, waves,
depths, rolling
green
hanging cottons

we sometimes need to feel
what movements they have
drifting, wavering,
dive, thunder, lightning
softness of blue
softness of silk,
coldness of rain

and then let us move somewhere
into hands holding
our bodies side by side
against the coldness of the
ground and rocks

it is the intimacy that we lack
the sticky wetness
that we have forgotten
the entanglement of
lovely thoughts
the odor of dreams
the sweetness of our tongues
bones and cartilage
cinnamon and vanilla
sauce and pineapples
sugar and salt and the bitterness
of some herbs
all these ingredients
of life
they all make us whole again

not just stars and sun and moon
and sky

it is when we lie on the grass again
to see the maps of stars

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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From Generation to Generation

They destroyed themselves,
From jealousy.
And envy took many of them to their graves.

With self inflicting animosities,
They do to others as they wish.
With a hatred of themselves,
Heard on cussed exchanging lips.

Many of them are 'raising' children,
Like neglected pets...
Chained and leashed,
On trashed doorsteps.

Neglect is not understood,
Since many only comprehend handouts.
And living in sleaze like leeches,
Is a quality of life they only know and perceive.

They destroyed themselves,
From jealousy.
And envy took many of them to their graves.
From generation to generation...
Freedom for them is meant to enslave.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blank Generation

I was saying let me out of here before I was even born
Its such a gamble when you get a face
Its fascinatin to observe what the mirror does
But when I dine its for the wall that I set a place
I belong to the blank generation and
I can take it or leave it each time
I belong to the generation but
I can take it or leave it each time
Triangles were fallin at the window as the doctor cursed
He was a cartoon long forsaken by the public eye
The nurse adjusted her garters as I breathed my first
The doctor grabbed my throat and yelled, gods consolation prize!
I belong to the blank generation
I can take it or leave it each time
I belong to the generation but
I can take it or leave it each time
To hold the tv to my lips, the air so packed with cash
Then carry it up flights of stairs and drop it in the vacant lot
To lose my train of thought and fall into your arms tracks
And watch beneath the eyelids every passing dot
I belong to the blank generation and
I can take it or leave it each time
I belong to the generation but
I can take it or leave it each time
I belong to the blank generation and
I can take it or leave it each time
I belong to the generation but
I can take it or leave it each time

song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feeling The Season

Fat summer and small season,
Sounds of water make noise;
Close your eyes to the sound
Of innumerable utterances
From the branches of our trees
In a garden that understands
That life is more than just a season.

Fat villages walk along a path of disgust,
Dust is a yawn, dirt is a solution of course.
The sky begins to repel us with its fracture,
The bolts go highly rewarding with noise,
And noise with more violence, the solution.
Lightning is a solution, lightning bolts!

poem by Naveed Akram
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Generation Lost

In life’s profusion
I stagger down lonely streets
looking for what I lost
when my life made its retreat.
Fame’s walls are hollow
empty footsteps echo there
of those who tried
and missed out on life’s fanfare.
Like me, they walk in desolation
no umbrella to cover their soul
from the dark clouds of misery
that empties no pity on anyone
whom it rains upon.
Alleyways of lonely drinkers
and lost dreams
whose lives they no longer own.
Lost souls in life’s misery
we see them everywhere
products of a discarded generation
for whom no one cares.
They huddle in cardboard towers
that they call home.
This generation lost
from life’s society.

22 April 2009

poem by David Harris
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My Generation

[Originally by The Who]
People try to put us d-down Talkin' 'Bout My Generation
just because we get around. Talkin' 'bout my generation
Things they do look awful c-c-cold. Talkin' 'bout my generation
I hope I die before I get old. Talkin' 'bout my generation
This is my generation,
this is my generation, baby.
Why don't you all f-fade away? Talkin' 'bout my generation
Yeah, don't try and dig what we all s-s-say. Talkin' 'bout my generation
I'm not tryin' to cause a big s-s-sensation, Talkin' 'bout my generation
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-g-g-generation. Talkin' 'bout my generation
It's my generation,
it's my generation, baby.
Why don't you all f-fade away? Talkin' 'bout my generation
Yeah, don't try d-dig what we all s-s-s-s-s-say. Talkin' 'bout my generation
Not tryin' to cause a big sensation, Talkin' 'bout my generation
Just talkin' 'bout my g-generation. Talkin' 'bout my generation
Yeah, my generation,
this is my generation, baby,
generation, generation.
People try to put us d-down Talkin' 'bout my generation
just because we g-g-g-get around. Talkin' 'bout my generation
Things they do look awful c-c-cold. Talkin' 'bout my generation
I hope I die before I get old. Talkin' 'bout my generation
It's my generation,
this is my generation, baby,
ma-ma-my generation.
Talkin' 'bout my generation. Talkin' about
Talkin' 'bout my generation. my generation,
Talkin' 'bout my generation. my generation,
Talkin' 'bout my generation. my generation,
Talkin' 'bout my generation. yes, my generation, baby
Talkin' 'bout my gene

song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Generation

It's a new generation
Telling it the way they feel
(new generation)
It's a new generation
singing it loud and clear
(new generation)
It's a new generation
really know whats happening here.
(new generation)
It's a new generation
looking for a peace of mind
(new generation)
New generation
groovin' it down the line
(new generation)
new generation
groovin' it all the time
(new generation)
take it over
take it over,
sock it to 'em
sock it to 'em,
let 'em have it
let 'em have it,
give it to 'em
give it to 'em (2X)
It's a new generation
Telling it the way they feel
(new generation)
It's a new generation
singing it loud and clear
(new generation)
It's a new generation
really know whats happening here.
(new generation)
It's a new generation
looking for a peace of mind
(generation, new generation)
New generation
groovin' it down the line
(generation, new generation)
new generation
groovin' it all the time
(generation, new generation)
take it over
take it over,
sock it to 'em
sock it to 'em,
let 'em have it
let 'em have it,
give it to 'em
give it to 'em (2X)
new generation
new generation
new generation
its a new generation
new generation
new generation
new generation
new generation

song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last to Leave

The guns were silent, and the silent hills
had bowed their grasses to a gentle breeze
I gazed upon the vales and on the rills,
And whispered, "What of these?' and "What of these?
These long forgotten dead with sunken graves,
Some crossless, with unwritten memories
Their only mourners are the moaning waves,
Their only minstrels are the singing trees
And thus I mused and sorrowed wistfully

I watched the place where they had scaled the height,
The height whereon they bled so bitterly
Throughout each day and through each blistered night
I sat there long, and listened - all things listened too
I heard the epics of a thousand trees,
A thousand waves I heard; and then I knew
The waves were very old, the trees were wise:
The dead would be remembered evermore-
The valiant dead that gazed upon the skies,
And slept in great battalions by the shore.

poem by Leon Gellert
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Wish I May, Wish I Might

Every star's a fable,
A story in the sky,
A trail of angel's footprints
(some angels cannot fly) .

Every tale's worth keeping
And writing in a book;
So every star you're seeing,
Just take a closer look:

There's stars wished on by babies,
And stars from lover's eyes,
Stars that saved a sailor
Or intrepid voyager, high.

Stars that guide the night time,
And stars that swiftly fell,
And stars that shine in daylight,
At the bottom of a well.

There are stars in the evening,
And stars before the dawn,
To tell us what the season,
And when the work is done.

There's the first star you remember,
And the last you'll see before
Your eyelids close forever-
Before a star-lit door.

And then you'll be a star yourself,
Shining miles above;
Lighting worlds with distant lamps,
Burning bright with love.

poem by Patti Masterman
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Two, three steps ahead before me

wonder i receive the dream that leads me to see the three steps
ahead before my first step landed in the sand, gaze i believe is
a footprint, slowly drifted to each feet passing wave along the
shore

the future never stop, moving forward where the direction of the
sun goes by, and the air that touches every high and low tide, the
heavens breathe moisturizing face of the clouds beneath the
cooling face of the sun

oh! let my foot gallops every feet i step, the endless distance take
me there, and my hands pointed me to reach; a place where my
feet has to take it rest, beautiful land that almost all have gone, so
friendly that every one want have to save, the hands that hold
every other hands to step, each footprint i take and lead me to a
little mark in the dunning sand, gently hold to my foot to the
dream land i want to step

open wide my inner pulse i remembered, the two feet i have, make
it three, sight comes so quickly, like lightning my eye have seen,
the two steps i touch, somebody carried me, and extra footprints
watches me, even angels touches my feet

the future is friendly; lovely to see, though it’s empty, but then full
of memory and easy, just leave it to God....the footprints you'll
see count it three.... two from God and one from the angel....and
sure you'll be carried away

be the first step in going to the Father's home; the very breath
you take, will takes you there and the paradise of today will soon
bring us to the future of no return

poem by Antonio Liao
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No Generation

never has the future seemed so dated
never have i been so lost for words
youll take a chance if youre given it
and youd fall in love with anything
never has the future seemed so tainted
its always been at loss for what its known as
at lost for what its known as
but im fine about it
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about this place before id ever been here
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
lets celebrate alo-one
how does it feel yes how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
i promise i wont be apart
and how does it feel yes tell me
how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
planning for the future seems so dated
listen plans you make them and ignore them
only to find that and believe them to be true
and planning for the future seems so tainted
its always been at loss for what its known as
at lost for what its known as
but im fine about it
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about this place before id ever been here
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
lets celebrate alo-one
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
lets celebrate alo-one
how does it feel yes how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
i promise i wont be apart
and how does it feel yes tell me
how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
i promise i wont be wont be apart
i promise i wont be wont be apart
i promise i wont b

song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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