Whose God (Do We Worship Now)
your God preaches success,
and individual achievement.
lives in sanctuaries of gold
with windows of colored glass.
doesnt get His hands dirty
on the down side of town...
turns His head from the ugly,
from the smell and the stink...
walks on the other side of the street.
demands sterile cleaness,
prefers people of stature!
no touching, no feelings...
out of control!
our God walks the tracks
leading the lost home...
slept with us under the bridge,
and shared our pot.
sat with the addict,
spent time with the prisoner...
held the little girl's hand
who was afraid of the dark.
washed clothes with us
in borrowed bathroom sinks.
wiped the tears from the old woman's face
when the old man shuddered, moved on....
picked up the young whore's clothes,
and led her from the room.
took the gun from the hand
of the man whose family
was just put out on the street...
stood in line with the jobless,
wearing worn out boots!
so tell me now,
and tell me true...
whose God do we worship now?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sketches For A Fine Day
actually i like the sound of
brooms sweeping the street today
a young girl
short for her age
and brown and
bow legged
does her assigned task in the street
gathering dead leaves
as i watch
it is a bright day
the street light is turned off
a young boy's hand is held by her mother
crossing the street
waiting for the school bus
a white dog pisses
on the side of the trunk of the
mahogany tree
a black car from the right side of the village
wheels its way towards the boulevard
a young woman with short blue jeans
jogs along the green valley
the sea is sky
blue and the sun slowly rises from the horizon
like a man's face peeping upon a table's edge
the long line of trees along the faded street
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jesus Christ Touched My Heart
Jesus Christ touched my heart
each expressed sentiment rang true
when Jesus spoke each thought
asked ‘Who Will We Worship Now'?
each parable as I read I instantly knew
each parable questioned souls me and you
each parable declared truth acts we do
materialism greed preaches ego success
materialism preaches individual achievement
materialism lives in sanctuaries of gold
materialism loves windows of colored glass
materialism hates getting manicured hands dirty
materialism lives on prestige side of towns...
It has decades this soul bothered
that all the world's great religions
build huge temples to their God
or God's beautiful though shaped
by worship honouring host hands
many built in worship great houses
to their God or Gods who need
no houses to shelter chill starved
mortal suffering dirt dying bodies;
but so many temples built so few
homes for orphans the sick the poor
living flesh souls God does adore.
Where do you think noble God
in truth is to be most found?
In houses of worship countless
built by hands of his own clay?
Or in hospitals, orphanages,
soup kitchens, simple homes
of the poor; and the homeless
streets where beloved poor
so often fall asleep desperate?
Remember greed rich those first
with men are often last with God.
Jesus is most often recorded in
the company of the poor those not
approved by cream of society; not
among glittering robes of the elite
in their palaces. What example do
you think Jesus was giving? Two
of the reasons Rome hated religion
Christianity were, early Christians
refused to worship Rome's rulers as gods
and Christianity taught the slave was
equal to the master. Two lessons
world leaders so often still resent.
Even today we can still judge best
civilizations, a country by how,
they treat the least of their citizens.
Honour this scale who measures
up, who would God approve?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Place To Hang My Hat
I can see it in your eyes
I can tell you think that I'm
Just some troubled soul
Who's lost and all alone
But I know each step I take
Brings me closer to the day
I'll be walkin' on them
Shinin' streets of gold.
'Cause I'm just passing through
Wearing worn out clothes and shoes
But it matters not just
What a man has on
This ol' flesh and blood of mine
Is willed on borrowed time
It's just a place to hang my hat
'Til I go home.
--- Instrumental ---
Mister, I don't know your name
But I thank you for your change
God bless you son
You must have Jesus in your life
A little help along the way
Never hurts too much these days
Even though I know in his hand
I'll be alright.
'Cause I'm just passing through
Wearing worn out clothes and shoes
But it matters not just
What a man has on
This ol' flesh and blood of mine
Is willed on borrowed time
It's just a place to hang my hat
'Til I go home.
It's just a place to hang my hat
'Til I go home...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Town
Its midnight down in sector two
Little girl walkin dressed in innocence and cool
Only fourteen and dressed up for the score
Hold that breath now boy, he(? )
She dances, baby, to the beat
Of breaking glass and running feet
Down in white town
Down in white town
Down in white town
Oh, she comes home from work and grabs something to eat
Turn the corner and walks down her street
In a row of houses, chic, shiny and dirty and grey
Disappears like the scenery in another mans play
And as she dances, oh, to the beat
Oh the trooper stickin dresses for the number on the sheet
Down in white town
Down in white town
Down in white town
Down in white town
Yeah, mr. outside, youre walkin so free
If you turn your eyes so you dont see
You act like youre the hand turns the key
And you become the hand that turns the key
And no matter how I try I cannot understand
The way that they will turn a man
Into a stranger in his own land
Down in white town
(repeat to fade)
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am.... (Hand Of Silence)
i am the fire raging out of control,
the blade of the shadow on poverty's neck.
the broken sound when no one can hear,
the cold feel of the gallows,
the wings of the dead bird.
i am the raccoon trapped,
and the fury of loss.
i am the waiting that kills,
moment by moment.
i am the hand too tired to touch,
the baby just born that no one wants.
i am the ribs showing on the starving child,
the refugee fleeing with nowhere to go.
the smell of despair at the county dump,
the apartment without curtains or furniture.
i am the soldier killed who hesitated with conscience.
i am the prisoner afraid of both detention and freedom.
the young gay teenager who hangs himself,
the pregnant girl who takes too many pills.
i am the protester beaten and left on the sidewalk,
the old man alone without food or heat.
i am the touch of Jesus in the addict's eyes,
the street bum sleeping in the alley.
i am the farmer whose farm was taken,
the family left without a home.
the 40 year worker in the unemployment line,
the young girl taken and sold as a whore.
i am the Buddhist monk who sets himself on fire,
the rebel imprisoned for speaking the truth.
i am the millions of young who cant afford school,
the millions of workers who cant afford insurance.
i am the immigrant deported,
whose family has no chance.
the young mother caught stealing food.
i am the morals hidden by despair and anger,
the conscience of the poor holding the gun.
i am the color of skin covered with blood,
the face of god in strays of all kinds.
i am the Buddha weeping,
the body of suffering....
the hand of silence covering the grave.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jackie Brown
Is this your life, jackie brown?
Poorly educated and forced to live on the poor side of town.
Is this your daughter, jackie brown?
This pretty little girl
In the worn out clothes
That have been hand-me down.
Is this your wife, jackie brown?
With sad blue eyes, walking on eggshells so you dont see her frown.
Is this your family, jackie brown?
Dream of vacationing on a mountain stream
And giving the world more than it gave you.
What ugly truths freedom brings
And it hasnt been very kind to you.
Is this your life, jackie brown?
Is this your meal, jackie brown?
Barely enough, Ive seen people throw away more than this out.
Is this your home, jackie brown?
This three room shack
With no running water
And the bathroom out back.
Is this your grave, jackie brown?
This little piece of limestone that says another desperate man took
Himself out.
Is this your dream, jackie brown?
Going nowhere and nowhere fast
We shame ourselves to watch people like this live.
But who gives a damn about jackie brown?
Just another lazy man who couldnt take what was his.
One helluva life jackie brown.
Forevermore, jackie brown
Amen and amen - jackie brown?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Bush
All the widows watch
Through all window sills
Hair raisin in every room
Up the street come a walkin chill
An you ask for nothin
cept to be by my side
See my tears good father
Will they wash it away
All my dirt from your holy feet
No I dont believe it works that way
cause you ask for nothin
cept to be by my side
I seen you in the river
Before God an man
Held by the holy hand of winter
Brought low by winters holy hand
Yes my sister girl
I know that it is true
You see me with the lords eye girl
An you see right through
An you ask for nothin
Is there somethin behind my eyes
I can look good I swear
When the spirit blows
All ore an all through yeah
My wretched bones
An you ask for nothin
cept to be by my side love
I seen you in the river
Before God an man
Held by the holy hand of winter
Brought low by winters holy hand
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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3 Feet Tall
3 feet tall
With a head like a bowling ball
Cant get up from where you fall
D'you bring this back to me?
What's it for?
Stood in the clothes that you once wore
Stood up from the night before
D'you drink and never leave?
Take my hand across the sand and lead me out to sea
Heaven sent the money we spent, give it back to me
Loneliness,
It's got your name and your new address
When it walks in the place is a mess
and it drinks and never leaves
What's it for?
Stood in the clothes that you once wore
Stood up from the night before
Do you dream and never sleep?
Heaven sent the money we spent, give it back to me
Take my hand across the sand and lead me out to sea
Take my hand across the sand and lead me out to sea
Heaven sent the money we spent, give it back to me
Fortune favours, Money takers, Get a sound and see
Sounds 'strumental, Fashion central, give it back to me
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Madame Joy
All the men would turn their head
When she walked down the street
Clothes are fine and hair that shine
Smiling oh so sweet, smiling oh so sweet
Got a taste of all religion
Comes on with the new
In her hair a yellow ribbon
And shes decked out all in blue
Oh yes in, decked out all in blue
Steppin lightly, steppin brightly
With her books in hand
Going to the university to teach them
Help them understand
And are helping em understand
And all the kids would love to see her
Follow in her steps
And tell her stories and adore her
Climb in through the fence
Climb in through the fence
Here she comes walking
Here she comes talking
I do believe its madame joy
Walking past that old street corner
And shes looking for her boy
Oh yes she is, looking for her boy
Steppin lightly, steppin brightly
With her books in hand
Going to the university to teach them
Help them understand
Yeah, help them understand
I was looking at the way she moved me
And I was seeing every side
Tell me, can I learn the language
Have you got the mind, have you got the mind
Here she comes walking
Here she comes talking
I do believe its madame joy
Shes walking by that old street corner
And shes looking for her boy
Oh yes looking for her boy
And all the men would turn their head
When she walked down the street
Clothes refined and hair that shine
And smiling oh so sweet, oh yes, shes smiling oh so sweet
Smiling, smiling oh so sweet, yeah, yeah, yeah
Smiling, smiling oh so sweet
And all the men would
And all the men would turn their head around
When that woman walked down the street
When that woman walked down the street
When that, when that woman walked
When that woman walked, when that woman walked
When that woman walked, when that woman walked
When that woman walked, what she wore
When that woman, when that woman, when that woman
When that woman, when that woman, when that woman
When that woman, when that woman, when that woman
When that woman, when that woman walked
She just walked
Just kept on walking down the street
When she walked, when she walked down
When she walked on down
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magic Of The Moment
She walks down a street
in Central London
on the sunny side of course
and is dumbfounded by the fact
that it is raining on the other side of the street.
It falls into her mind as if it were a dream
but a dream that's real.
She crosses over and holds out her hand.
Raindrops collect on her palm.
She crosses over again and watches them evaporate
on her outstretched hand.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Late Night, Maudlin Street
Winter coming
Winter push on
(push on)
Oh, winter push on
Winter is so long
Winter moves on
The last night on maudlin street
Goodbye house, goodbye stairs
I was born here
And I was raised here, and
...i took some stick here
Love at first sight
It may sound trite
But its true, you know
I could list the detail
Of everything you ever wore or said
Or how you stood the day
As we spent the last night
On maudlin street
Goodbye house, forever!
I never stole a happy hour
Around here
Where the worlds ugliest boy
Became what you see
Here I am - the ugliest man
Oh, the last night on maudlin street
Truly I do love you
Oh, truly I do love you
When I sleep
With that picture of you framed beside my bed
Oh, its childish and its silly
But I think its you in my room, by the bed
(...yes, I told you it was silly...)
And I know
I took strange pills
But I never meant to hurt you
Oh, truly I love you
Came home late one night
Everyone had gone to bed
But, you know
No-one stays up for you
I had sixteen stitches
All around my head
Oh, the last bus I missed to maudlin street
So he drove me home in the van
Complaining, women only like me for my mind...
Dont leave your torch behind
A powercut ahead; 1972, you know
And so we crept through the park
No, I cannot steal a pair of jeans off a clothesline
For you
But you ... without clothes
Oh, I could not keep a straight face
Me - without clothes ?
Well, a nation turns its back and gags...
Im packed
I am moving house
A half-life disappears today
With every hand waves me on
(secretly wishing me gone)
Well, I will be soon
Ooh, I will be soon
I will be soon
I will be soon
Will be soon, I will be soon
Mmm ... I will be soon, I will be soon
There were bad times on maudlin street
They took you away in a police car
Inspector - dont you know ?
Dont you care ?
Dont you know - about love ?
Your gran died
And your mother died
On maudlin street
In pain, and ashamed
With never time to say
Those special things ... oh
I took the key from maudlin street
Well, its only bricks and mortar !
Oh, oh, truly I love you
Oh, wherever you are
Wherever you are
Wherever you are
I hope youre singing now
Oh, I do hope
I hope youre singing now
Oh ...
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out In The Street
Put on your best dress baby
And darlin, fix your hair up right
Cause theres a party, honey
Way down beneath the neon lights
All day youve been working that hard line
Now tonight youre gonna have a good time
I work five days a week girl
Loading crates down on the dock
I take my hard earned money
And meet my girl down on the block
And monday when the foreman calls time
Ive already got friday on my mind
When that whistle blows
Girl, Im down the street
Im home, Im out of my work clothes
When Im out in the street
I walk the way I wanna walk
When Im out in the street
I talk the way I wanna talk
When Im out in the street
When Im out in the street
When Im out in the street, girl
Well, I never feel alone
When Im out in the street, girl
In the crowd I feel at home
The black and whites they cruise by
And they watch us from the corner of their eye
But there aint no doubt girl, down here
We aint gonna take what theyre handing out
When Im out in the street
I walk the way I wanna walk
When Im out in the street
I talk the way I wanna talk
Baby, out in the street I dont feel sad or blue
Baby, out in the street Ill be waiting for you
When the whistle blows
Girl, Im down the street
Im home, Im out of my work clothes
When Im out in the street
I walk the way I wanna walk
When Im out in the street
I talk the way I wanna talk
When Im out in the street
Pretty girls, theyre all passing by
When Im out in the street
From the corner, we give them the eye
Baby, out in the street I just feel all right
Meet me out in the street, little girl, tonight
Meet me out in the street
Meet me out in the street
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boots
I found a pair of boots upon the street
So I took them home to wear on my feet
I washed them I cleaned them and I aired them out
So I could put them all later when I would walk about.
I put my new boots on, and I walked down the road
They seemed so very sturdy to carry my heavy load
Then they took me places where I have never been
I could tell that these boots were very well broken in.
They felt so very soft and comfortable upon my feet
How excited I was for my new boots others would see.
And when I did my walk many persons just stared
As they looked at my new boots but I really never cared.
Maybe they too just wanted boots just like mine
But this one thing I knew they were hard for me to find.
I had so much fun with my brand new pair of boots
We walked everywhere they placed me in a happy mood
And the longer that I walked still no pain did I feel
I was excited and content my life became so surreal.
So it started to get late so I decided to walk home
So that's were we head just me and my boots alone
And then when I took them off I placed them beside my bed
So I could be ready for my next journey or adventure ahead.
I wore those boots of mine for many, many years
They always felt so comfortable never brought me any tears
I would wash them and clean them and polish them too
Now they were always mine and they always looked brand new.
Then one day I wore another pair of shoes when I went out
I left my old boots home alone so they could air out
So myself and my new shows were gone most of the day
As I had errands to run and also many bills to pay.
But sadly when I got home I was taken by surprise
My boots were stolen and that brought tears to my eyes
I thought to myself who would steal those old boots of mine
Boots that have been worn and used who would commit that crime.
So I went out and bought so many different pairs of shoes
And none are that old as they are all seemingly brand new
I still go for my walks and I still go to town and all about
My feet are so much happier now I myself with joy wanna shout
But every now and then I think about those boots I once wore
The ones I found on the street and I never bought in the store
I wonder now if they are ragged and torn and beyond repair
But that's someone else problem now, so why would I care.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0194 A Boy's Vision
The boy walks past the window;
you can see he's
got something clearly in his mind;
walks firmly on both feet as if
he walked on grass;
his carriage upright,
a half-smile on his face;
his eyes are bright;
he swings his hands from side to side
in front of him.
He has a vision.
Ah yes.
His captain's just tossed the ball to him;
it's his spell to bowl.
This is what he was born to do;
he has the skills;
he knows he can do it; can't wait; but
no hurry, as he's confident,
switching the ball from hand to hand,
warming it with his love.
The boy walks past the window.
He has a vision.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Weirdo
As he happily walks down the street
Clapping his hands and shuffling his feet,
Smiling at the people as they walk by
While nodding is head and telling them hi.
Many people laugh and call him a name
So he turns around and walks away in shame,
He knows that he is different and his mind is slow
But why he asks himself, 'am I such a weirdo'.
He meets a pretty woman so he tries to flirt
She laughs at him and gives him more pain to hurt,
She tells him there is something wrong with him
And that he is odd and different than other men.
So he gives her a flower and he sadly walks home
As that is his only solitude when he is alone,
He wonders why she enjoy giving him pain and woe
Then he hates himself; for being such a weirdo.
He dreams nightly that he is like everyone else
But then when he awakes he knows he is himself,
He looks in his mirror and notices what he sees
A very good person that enjoys being happy.
He lives that life until the day that he dies
Never hurts or uses anyone or lived by lies,
God looks and judges that very mans soul
He then says to him, 'son you were never a weirdo'.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wrong Side Of Love
She said that shes got something else on her mind
Im spending my money, but Im wasting time
It looks to me like the end of the line
Well, she plays both sides and shes making me choose
Its heads, she wins, and tails I lose
Each time I call, its another excuse
I thought I was finally doin everything right
Now it looks like Im the one left lonely tonight
I picked the wrong side of love
And I wound up on the losin end
The wrong side of love
Now Im starting all over again
She makes me feel like Im out of control
She comes on hot but she turns ice cold
Her light says stop when Im ready to go
She set me up, now shes puttin me down
Sometimes I feel like a face in the crowd
One day Im in, the next day Im out
I picked the wrong side of love
Right place, wrong time
The wrong side of love
Well honey, point me in the right direction
I picked the wrong side of love
Is there a bad side to love?
I picked the wrong side of love
The wrong side of love
I picked the wrong side of love
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bells Of Freedom
do the bells of freedom ring
every time someone dies of starvation?
every time a child is abused,
every time a woman's left alone
to raise the kids...
every time a young boy hangs himself,
every time an addict steals his fix...
every time a boy is shot dead in the street,
every time a mother weeps....
every time a boy goes off to war,
comes home in a bodybag....
and no one knows why.....
every time a family is evicted,
with nowhere to go....
every time a factory gets shut down,
and the workers walk away with empty
lunchboxes and shattered dreams.....
every time a minister gets up to pray,
and the silent, grieving, walk out...
every time a young girl gets beaten
by a pimp in a back room....
every time a family farm is taken,
every time a tanker leaks oil...
every time a prisoner is executed
for something he didnt do....
every time a protestor gets arrested
for standing up to be counted...
do they ring? and are they
the chimes of freedom....
or the bells of passing....
saying their final farewell!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Violent Side
Here comes the night
Here comes the anger
Hidden so deep inside
No one can see
Behind these eyes
There walks a stranger
Wandering through the dark
Following me.
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side.
Electric light
Shining on your block
Sayin to everyone
The power is on
While your alarm
Set up for safety
Keeps out invaders who come
But still cant control.
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side.
Got to fight to control the violent side
Every day and night
Ive got to fight to control it.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Mornin Comin Down
Well I woke up sunday morning
With no way to hold my head, that didnt hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast
Wasnt bad so I had one more for dessert
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
Its the one Im wearin
And I shaved my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
Id smoked my brain the night before
Or I smoked so much the night before
With cigarettes and songs that Ive been pickin
My mouth was like an ashtray Id been lickin
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin at a can that he was kicking
Then I crossed the empty street
And caught the sunday smell of someone fryin chicken
And it took me back to somethin
That Id lost somehow somewhere along the way
Chorus:
On the sunday morning sidewalks
Wishing lord that I was stoned
cause there is something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And theres nothin short of dyin
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin city side walks
Sunday mornin comin down
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl who he was swingin
And I stopped beside a sunday school
And listened to the song that they were singin
Then I headed back for home and
Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin
And it echoed thru the canyon like
The disappearing dreams of yesterday.
Chorus:
On the sunday morning sidewalks
Wishing lord that I was stoned
cause there is something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And theres nothin short of dyin
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin city side walks
Sunday mornin comin down.
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After It's Gone!
wild eyed strangers...
kids wearing dirty clothes,
and hand me down coats.
people walking, head down,
in the early morning cold.
just a few stores open,
the price of gas up.
smoke rises from chimneys,
all is quiet, as if waiting,
for the next storm to come.
life goes stumbling down,
the mail falls from the box.
families sleeping in cars,
gotta move with the sun.
the town clock strikes, echoing,
the steps of boots long worn...
empty buildings shout out
the rage of the dispossessed.
all that was, or could be,
now nothing more...
than the bitter taste of coffee,
two hours after it's gone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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