Who am I?
who am i?
the man who plowed your garden,
and tended your crops;
who hoed the weeds
in the hot summer sun.
i am the man who cut your wood,
sawed it into stacks,
preparing for the coming winter.
i am the carpenter
who built your home;
with boards of flesh,
and nails made of blood and tears.
i am the infidel
who brought you a holy candle,
and made love to you
while it burned down.
who am I
i am the minstrel in your courtyard
dodging bullets and angry lynch mobs.
i am the soldier you sent to battle,
not expecting him to come home.
i am the doctor of your heart
mixing balms of listening and caring.
i am the wolf that mounts you,
teeth gleeming in the moonlight.
i am the prayer you cant put to words,
and its answer!
who am I?
i am the reflection of your face
in the darkened window.
i am the bridge you walk across
to reach tomorrow...
i am the price of a lifetime,
the cost of passion.
i am the fire that burns,
the pot that boils,
the cup that's filled...
i am the colors,
the stink, the raw taste
of living.
i am the hawk that circles
o'er your freedom...
the hand that opens the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Poet Is....
the poet is a vase,
collecting tears like rainwater,
with a tiny hole in the bottom,
connecting to the ground.
the poet is a prism,
seperating colors from black and white,
then drawing black and white from colors,
dissolving and evolving.
the poet is an illusion,
that looks and smells like home,
redefining distance by closeness,
finding the familiar in a stranger.
the poet is an orphan,
a messenger, and a thief.
bringing you a lit candle,
and stealing your heart for a stand.
the poet is a carpenter,
building from scraps of wood.
using time rusted nails,
and an eye for dreams.
the poet is a healer,
and the moment you forgot,
on the way to remembering,
who you really are.
the poet is a bridge,
borrowed wings, and a cross.
a simple fire tended by no one,
and ears left behind by god.
the poet is a body,
grown tired in it's dying.
and the small winged creature without name,
waiting to follow the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scars (On The Face)
ecstasy...
the window broken
by moonlight.
the bastard star,
that licks the wound.
the fire that burns flesh,
and opens the casket.
the hammer
that breaks the shell.
love sap spilled
on a forbidden book.
the history of mankind,
written in charcoal.
the tears of the prisoner,
set free, drunk on freedom.
the garlic lips,
that tempt the hunger.
the hunger's howl,
and the silence of the wolf.
the lover's tongue
on the beating heart.
smoke rising from the fire...
scars on the face of the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tryst
Ambrose stood at the cottage step
A bouquet in his hand,
He'd come to woo sweet Adeline
From a strange and far off land,
They'd known each other since children, and
They'd made to each a vow:
‘I never will love another more
Than I love you, even now! '
They'd played in the heat of the summer sun,
They'd played in the autumn shade,
But winter carried him far from home
And the love that they'd almost made,
They wrote through spring and the summer's height
They wrote right through to the fall,
But the winter chills saw the postman fill
No letterbox at all.
His letters came back, duly stamped
‘Not known at this address! '
He grieved as the spring made true love sing
Anew in his sorrowing breast,
He bought a ticket and travelled home
Third Class, by Packet Steam,
But fretted all of the way across
For the love of his Adeline.
He knocked at the cottage door where she
Had lived when the world was good,
But the knocker made an echoing sound
On the door, where Ambrose stood,
The flowers she'd tended lovingly
Were dead in the window box,
Except for a patch of colour there,
A clump of forget-me-nots.
He knocked, and then he knocked again,
There came no patter of feet,
Only the sound of silence there
As he felt his own heart beat,
He little knew as he turned away
That a bier stood in the hall,
And the coffin that lay there sombrely
Knew nothing of life at all.
She'd ceased to write when she caught the sight
Of the blood on her handkerchief,
And the winter cough said clear enough
That there'd be no summer heat,
She lay in the coffin, sweetly dressed,
With a note beside her brow:
‘I never will love another more
Than I love you, even now! '
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bridge
i stared across the bridge,
lantern held high...
searching the trees and
the shadows for a sign.
the surging river below
made my heart stamp its feet;
the wind blew, almost moaned,
the bridge groaned as it swayed.
taking off my boots,
i crossed barefooted and sure.
looking down, i could not see rocks,
but i knew they were there...
on the other side the damp dirt
felt good to my feet...
i followed the path down,
ever down... a wolf howled!
i came to a clearing,
made out the form of your hut...
dark and still, almost a womb.
i made my way to the door,
my trembling hand on the knob...
unlocked, the door opened.
staring around the darkened room,
nothing moved, only a lone candle
on the table beside the bed.
i could feel the stare
of your hungry eyes...
heard you whisper, 'come here! '
a thousand battles,
and journeys untold,
forgotten in the warmth
of your flesh...
new stars formed
in a limitless sky,
fell and shattered
as we loved!
the groan of the earth,
the moan of the wind,
the fury of storms unleashed.
holding back, holding back,
till there was no return...
dissolving into the fire
of your pulsing depths...
and all of life, finished!
with the morning light,
i found myself alone...
got up and dressed
with the ache and the taste...
as i left the hut,
i turned to see the owl...
set my chin, braced my mind,
and walked to face the coming snow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You Ask Me If I Miss The Place
you ask me if i miss
home, and i did not answer you
i go out the door and see
a line of corn growing
along the field
that i plowed
the rooster cocks
a long call
and up there
the hawk
circles us
beside a
dark cloud
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everytime You Walk Out That Door
Oh oh yeah yeah
The table set for dinner only just for once
Serving at your empty chair
Remembering our love the crazy lives we shared
Last time you were sitting there
I can hear your voice still calling out my name
It's now your symptom upon the pillow next to me
I'magining your kisses when I close my eyes
They don't replace you holding me
A house is not a home when I'm alone here
Summer turns to winter when you're gone
And all I see are clouds outside my window
Everytime you walk out the door
And in the morning as I slowly wash my face
Feel you
Sneaking upon me
Go to my reflection staring tells me everything I'm alone
You're not really there
I can hear your voice still calling out my name
It's now your symptom upon the pillow next to me
I'magining your kisses when I close my eyes
They don't replace you holding me
A house is not a home when I'm alone here
Summer turns to winter when you're gone
And all I see are clouds outside my window
Everytime you walk out the door
I'm not saying that I can't just live without you
But I'm fine so much better when you're here
You turn my darkness to light
And you make everything all right by my side
A house is not a home when I'm alone here
Summer turns to winter when you're gone
And all I see are clouds outside my window
Everytime you walk out the door
song performed by by Kelly Rowland from Simply Deep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lamp of Crystal
Golden flame amidst silver mountains
Echo canyon still as moonlight
Love rides thunder in blood of passion
Drink from fountains of amethyst
Sanguine rubies of violet stars
Maidens of fire dance in gossamer blue
Red beams of Mars drink the light
Desire lit journeys into the fire
The earth dresses like a bride
Spring belongs to every bold lover
Sanctuary invites me into her forest
Rivers dressed in lime flow like elves
She has brought back the noble eagles
Diamond eyes sparkle like lighthouses
She walks on moss made of dreams
Tendrils of wildflowers by the sea
Her hair washed in the glorious dawn
Man awakes to his lovely destiny
Silhouettes share the sighing purples
Regal creation in mystical moonlight
We walk softly filled with radiant joy
Songs of the ancient garden
Man and woman amidst the summer
Shielded by flaming angels
Circles filled with rose pedals
Ideals in unspoken onyx necklaces
Consciousness revels in the universe
Candle of divine love in gowns of sky
Lamp of Crystal lit in the Milky Way
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You... Now!
you are... now,
the small fire built
'neath a tree in the rain,
the song of the whipporwill.
the dirty faced little girl
playing down in the barn,
the milk cow butchered
to face the winter.
the gurgle of the stream,
the whisper of branches bare.
the taste of blood
on the tip of the tongue.
the yelp of love,
the stink of hunger.
the cup held out,
and the hand that pours.
the howl of the wind,
the arch of the back.
the mouth of desire,
and the holy whore.
the long far echo
of the heart's screaming beat.
the soft falling rain,
the prayer, unanswered!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Ain't Where His Heart Is
He knew how to reach me deep inside
And he found a part of me i could not hide
And we'd walk and talk and touch tenderly
Then he'd lay me down and make love to me
We built a love so strong and couldn't break
There was not a road we were afraid to take
And we'd kiss all the way from arkansas to rome
'cause in each other's arms we were home sweet home
But he don't feel the same
Since our lives became
Years of bills, babies and chains
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
He may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
But he don't lay his head down to love me like before
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
If foundations made of stone can turn to dust
Then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust
If he could only find that feeling once again
If we could only change the way the story ends
And he may still come home
But i live here alone
The love that built these walls is gone
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
He may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
But he don't lay his head down to love me like before
He don't lay his head down to love me like before
Home ain't where his heart is anymore
No, home ain't where his heart is
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Ain't Where The Heart Is
he knew how to reach me deep inside
and he found a part of me i could not hide
and we'd walk and talk and touch tenderly
then he'd lay me down and make love to me
we built a love so strong and couldn't break
there was not a road we were afraid to take
and we'd kiss all the way from arkansas to rome
'cause in each other's arms we were home sweet home
but he don't feel the same
since our lives became
years of bills babies and chains
home ain't where his heart is anymore
he may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
but he don't lay his head down to love me like before
home ain't where his heart is anymore
if foundations made of stone can turn to dust
then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust
if he could only find that feeling once again
if we could only change the way the story ends
and he may still come home
but i live here alone
the love that built these walls is gone
home ain't where his heart is anymore
he may hang his hat behind our bedroom door
but he don't lay his head down to love me like before
he don't lay his head down to love me like before
home ain't where his heart is anymore
no home ain't where his heart is
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Price
There's a price for everything.
And everything has a price.
The cost may be higher.
It is never precise.
A second of pleasure.
For a lifetime of guilt.
Destroying the house,
Of love that God built.
Innocent victims,
Are killed by the blast.
Others they are maimed,
The scars forever they last.
We walk through that door,
Our morals astray,
Not knowing the price,
That will have to be paid.
There is one thing in common.
It's what we all share.
Three nine inch nails,
And the flesh that they teared.
Silent love.
Screaming so loud.
He paid the price.
His father so proud.
The plan was complete
He said, “It is done”
I have paid for your sins
Each and every one.
To accept my free gift.
There's something I ask.
It's a couple requests,
They are simple tasks.
To just love your neighbor,
Like you love yourself.
Put yourself behind others.
Put your pride on the shelf.
When you do something wrong,
You can call on my name.
I'll show you My mercy,
And remove your shame.
My death was the price.
The price that was due.
I paid it in full.
I did it for you.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am... (Hands Of The Clock)
i am...
the hands of the clock,
approaching midnight.
the world on fire,
the thunderous shout of hunger.
i am the ditch,
filled with the bodies of freedom.
i am the hammer,
that drove the nails.
i am the hated, the despised,
and the friendless.
i am the stranger,
that smells like your brother.
i am the enemy
of tyranny and oppression.
i am the blood
shed for the truth.
i am the day after,
destruction and fall.
i am the taste of death,
that burns to live.
i am dirty, sweaty,
bruised, and shaken...
i am freedom standing
when all else is gone.
i am the chant of equality,
the downfall of religions.
i am the lover, the worker,
the farmer, and the builder.
i am the ark
that carries the seed.
i am the courage
that lays down weapons.
i am justice, listening,
caring, and changing!
i am revolution, redemption,
man and woman side by side.
i am electric, naked,
sensual, and common!
i am the end of what has been..
i am the new day,
the new way, the bridge between men!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Freedom Rant.... (For Greg Uhan)
burn down, tear down,
empty buildings on fire.
wages getting smaller,
the cost keeps getting higher.
gasoline, political machine,
waiting to ignite.
the walking dead carry their beds,
two wrongs dont make a right.
unemployed, polaroids,
given to the flame.
drunk on fears, unspoken tears,
even hunger has a name.
gunpoint, tossed in the joint.
making meth in backseats.
bloody coins, where nothing joins,
bodies covered with sheets.
momma's grave, cant be saved,
redemption calls for blood.
funeral hymns, unpardonable sins,
caskets made of wood.
black face, white face,
poverty goes barefoot.
media lies, freedom dies,
all faces covered with soot.
women sold, sacrifice the old,
babies born on floors.
the price of life, a gun and a knife,
close the window, bolt the doors.
the few who stand, shifting sands,
burned at the stake.
carry the cross, pay the cost,
give more than they take.
for children unborn, shoes not yet worn,
god burns inside their eyes,
chains broken, guts and hopin',
eagles mourn the empty skies.
words of truth, from aged and youth,
open doors and break the chains.
good and bad, desperate and mad,
we are the coming change!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taking You Home
Taking you home - (don henley/stan lynch/stuart brawley)
I had a good life
Before you came
I had my friends and my freedom
I had my name
Still there was sorrow and emptiness
til you made me glad
Oh, in this love I found strength I never knew I had
1st chorus:
And this love
Is like nothing I have ever known
Take my hand, love
Im taking you home
Taking you home
There were days, lonely days
When the world, wouldnt throw me a crumb, no no
But I kept on believing
That this day would come
And this love
Is like nothing I have ever known, no no baby
Take my hand love
Im taking you home
Im taking you, home
Where we can be with the ones who really care
Home, where we can grow together
Keep you in, my heart forever
Instrumental (keyboard)
2nd chorus:
Oh and this love
Is like nothing I have ever known, oh no no baby
Take my hand love
Im taking you home
3rd chorus:
Oh this love
Is like nothing I have ever known, no no baby
Take my hand.
Im taking you home
Im taking you, home
Yes I am, mm, mm, mm, hey baby, hey baby
Taking you home
Short instrumental w/background vocals
Im taking you home baby
Im taking you home.
End
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Answered Prayer
Every problem has solutions
Look inside your heart, see what you might find
You can draw your own conclusions
Theres summer in your soul, winter in your mind
I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
I love, I love, I love you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Unhappy for a long time
A subtle shade of blue, indigo, thats you
You say that loves so hard to find
It just eluded you, Ive been eluded, too
I love, I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
Ive got to, got to, got to have you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Open up your mind, open up your heart
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Open up your arms, open up your eyes
Answer my prayer
Truth be told, word to the wise
Open your heart, babe, open your eyes
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Answer my prayer, answer my prayer
Answer my prayer
Prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
All I want you to do, all I want to do
Is to answer my prayer, answer baby
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry
Now give me answer, give me an answer, give me an answer
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paschendale
In a foreign field he lay
lonely soldier unknown grave
on his dying words he prays
tell the world of Paschendale
Relive all that he's been through
last communion of his soul
rust your bullets with his tears
let me tell you 'bout his years
Laying low in a blood filled trench
killing time 'til my very own death
on my face I can feel the falling rain
never see my friends again
in the smoke, in the mud and lead
smell of fear and feeling of dread
soon be time to go over the wall
rapid fire and the end of us all
Whistles, shouts and more gun fire
lifeless bodies hang on barbwire
battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb
be reunited with my dead friends soon
many soldiers eighteen years
drown in mud, no more tears
surely a war no one can win
killing time about to begin
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
The bodies of ours and our foes
the sea of death it overflows
in no man's land God only knows
into jaws of death we go...
Crucified as if on a cross
allied troops, they mourn their loss
German war propaganda machine
such before has never been seen
swear I heard the angels cry
pray to God no more may die
so that people know the truth
tell the tale of Paschendale
Cruelty has a human heart
everyman does play his part
terror of the men we kill
the human heart is hungry still
I stand my ground for the very last time
gun is ready as I stand in line
nervous wait for the whistle to blow
rush of blood and over we go...
Blood is falling like the rain
its crimson cloak unveils again
the sound of guns can't hide their shame
and so we die in Paschendale
Dodging shrapnel and barbwire
running straight at cannon fire
running blind as I hold my breath
say a prayer symphony of death
as we charge the enemy lines
a burst of fire and we go down
I choke a cry but no one hears
feel the blood go down my throat
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
See my spirit on the wind
across the lines beyond the hill
friend and foe will meet again
those who died at Paschendale
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wise Words of Gareth Pugh
Gone, baby gone -
are the days of youth
brought mostly in school!
Home sweet home safer?
=NOT!
School sweet school safer?
=Yes more or less!
Your wise words did not bore
a hole; rather it gently unlocked a...
closed heart -
into an open heart.
My days spent here are soon to be over
in this ole'but school sweet school.
The words will stay
stitched into...
...an open heart! -
as my respnsibulities change.
Advice given = advice used
in words; unlocking a door -
a door to say Thank You!
Gone, baby gone -
are the days of youth
brought mostly in school!
Home sweet home safer?
=NOT!
School sweet school safer?
=Yes more or less!
A door opens wide -
and in comes a breezy breeze...
...enveloping with my freedom
as your wise words described
it in images of hope and longing!
Now it finally but trully arrived
at my door step.
The wise words embraced and brought me to a freedom...
of hope!
poem by Celine Berghmans
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The Working Class
hard calloused old hands,
back bent with time and work.
feet beaten and worn,
old tired eyes that still twinkle.
i love the working class.
am more at home
with truckers, farmers,
and factory workers,
than politicians and priests.
the lives built brick by brick,
silent years of sacrifice.
hard lines of faith and worry,
and moments of gentle caring.
the hand extended,
the heart that's honest.
the love of passion,
and blowing off steam.
the cook pot, and the table,
set for whoever walks through the door.
neighbor standing behind neighbor,
the saturday night fire,
and the sunday prayer.
i love the working class...
the people that built your cities,
paved your roads,
that have grown your food,
and made your goods...
so what the hell are you doing to us?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Opened The Door
the hand that
balled into a fist,
and struck another
man down...
the hand that stole
the money to feed
his family that was hungry....
the hand that wrote angry words,
threw a stone through the window.
the hand that shut the door,
leaving the stranger outside...
the hand that tore
down all that it had built,
feeling the rage of alone....
the hand that pulled the trigger,
pushed the button,
rang the register.....
the hand that touched
forbidden places,
brought rain from a cloudless sky....
the hand that clasped the other,
kneeling to pray for forgiveness....
just wiped tears from the
face of God... found the key,
and opened the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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