A Pact
I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman -
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a grown child
Who has had a pig-headed father;
I am old enough now to make friends.
It was you that broke the new wood,
Now is a time for carving.
We have one sap and one root -
Let there be commerce between us.
poem by Ezra Pound
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My Mere
Long long time ago
Shake off your shoes
Kick off your boots
Heres what she said to me
The world is a possibility
And even though I grown old
I still believe in
Everything she told to me
Sometimes Im an invisible man
You cant see me
But can understand
Im just one grain in your pile of sand
I never fit in to your plan
My grandma said when she took me aside
Gonna make many many chances in life
Gonna make many mistakes in time
Just make sure you dont lose your mind
Even though Ive grown old
I still believe in
Everything she told to me
Find yourself and thats for sure
Whether youre rich
Or whether youre poor
When the handles broke
And open comes the door
Leave tonight, what ya waiting for?
My grandmom is dead and gone
Me Im still traveling on
Dark as night fades into dawn
Stars at night fade into morning time
Even though Ive grown old
Still believe in
Everything she told to me
Even though I still young
Still believe in everything Ive done
And even though Ive grown old
Still believe in
Everything she told to me
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Apple from Walt Whitman
There's never been a poet where I live,
but I grew up in the shade of Whitman's name:
born in West Hills—our hills—he would have walked
our paths along the crest. I walked Whitman Road,
crashed the Whitman Drive-In, stole a book
from the sci-fi rack at the Melville-Whitman Pharmacy,
even played lacrosse against Whitman High;
we lost three times, the guys from Halfway Hollow,
to young men with Whitman in white on their varsity jackets.
My mother tells a story about Thanksgiving,
back when kids went begging in rags and blackface:
how Carrie Wicks's sister said she got
an apple from Walt Whitman, right at his house,
an old man with a beard. The big kids laughed,
knowing the white-haired caretaker was no one.
I set no foot inside the Whitman House
or Leaves of Grass till after I went away,
but I'm better having grown up with the name,
the house and hills of a poet everyone knew,
a poet big enough in the mothers' stories
for a girl to believe he came to the door with a long
white beard and smiled and handed her an apple.
If a poet the size of Whitman named our few
square miles and a few in Jersey it's going to take
a lot more big ones to hand us all a welcome
sweet as a Thanksgiving apple from Walt Whitman,
white-haired care-taker, seed of mothers' stories,
Appleseed of our poetry: nourishment, shade.
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Come, Said My Soul
Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my body let us write, (For we are One),
That should I after death invisibly return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
There to some group of mates the chants resuming,
(Tallying Earth's soil, trees, winds, tumultous waves,)
Ever with pleas'd smile I may keep on
Ever and ever to the verses owning - as, first, I here and now,
Signing for soul and body, set them to my name,
Walt Whitman.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Hard Headed Woman
Im looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will take me for myself,
And if I find my hard headed woman,
I wont need nobody else, no, no, no.
Im looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me do my best,
And if I find my hard headed woman
I know the rest of my life will be blessed -- yes, yes, yes.
I know a lot of fancy dancers,
People who can glide you on a floor,
They move so smooth but have no answers.
When you ask whyd you come here for?
I dont know why?
I know many fine feathered friends
But their friendliness depends on how you do.
They know many sure fired ways
To find out the one who pays
And how you do.
Im looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me feel so good,
And if I find my hard headed woman,
I know my life will be as it should -- yes, yes, yes.
Im looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me do my best,
And if I find my hard headed woman...
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Headed Woman for M.V.
I’m looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will take me for myself,
And if I find my hard headed woman,
I won’t need nobody else, no, no, no.
I’m looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me do my best,
And if I find my hard headed woman
I know the rest of my life will be blessed - yes, yes, yes.
I know a lot of fancy dancers,
People who can glide you on a floor,
They move so smooth but have no answers.
When you ask why’d you come here for?
I don’t know why?
I know many fine feathered friends
But their friendliness depends on how you do.
They know many sure fired ways
To find out the one who pays
And how you do.
I’m looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me feel so good,
And if I find my hard headed woman,
I know my life will be as it should - yes, yes, yes.
I’m looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me do my best,
And if I find my hard headed woman...
(a song, from Cat Stevens for Manolita)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So Far And So Far, And On Toward The End
SO far, and so far, and on toward the end,
Singing what is sung in this book, from the irresistible impulses of
me;
But whether I continue beyond this book, to maturity,
Whether I shall dart forth the true rays, the ones that wait unfired,
(Did you think the sun was shining its brightest?
No--it has not yet fully risen;)
Whether I shall complete what is here started,
Whether I shall attain my own height, to justify these, yet
unfinished,
Whether I shall make THE POEM OF THE NEW WORLD, transcending all
others--depends, rich persons, upon you,
Depends, whoever you are now filling the current Presidentiad, upon
you, 10
Upon you, Governor, Mayor, Congressman,
And you, contemporary America.
Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass.
poem by Walt Whitman
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To A Common Prostitute
To a Common Prostitute
BE composed--be at ease with me--I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty
as Nature;
Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you;
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to
rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for
you.
My girl, I appoint with you an appointment--and I charge you that you
make preparation to be worthy to meet me,
And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come.
Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that you do not
forget me.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Father Time
(sambora, child)
Father time
I couldnt make her wanna stay
I couldnt seem to find the words to say
Now I have to live in yesterday
Father time
I thought that you were on my side
I thought that I could keep our love alive
I thought that I could keep her satisfied
The clock keeps tickin and I keep on thinkin bout you
Im knockin at the door of your heart but I cant break through
Father time
Grant me just another day
Of our love I tried to make her stay
Father time
Dont tell me its too late
All my life you know that I would wait
Father time
Now shes gone
She didnt even say goodbye
I guess she didnt have the heart to try
She didnt even have the guts to lie
Father time
Only you can turn the page
And close the curtain on this empty stage
Only you can take my pain away
My heart keeps breakin and my body keeps aching for you
Its time to hold on but theres nothin left to hold on to
Father time
Grant me just another day
Of our love I tried to make her stay
Father time
Dont tell me its too late
All my life you know that I would wait
Father time
Father, father cant you see Im depending on you
Im dying at the door to your heart and I cant break through
Father time
Grant me just another day
Of our love I tried to make her stay
Father time
Dont tell me its too late
All my life you know that I would wait
Father time
Shes your child make her mine
Father time
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Headed For The Future
Written by: neil diamond, tom hensley and alan lindgren
Hey, were headed for the future
Give us some room
Were gonna build a new world
Say, were headed for the future
Give us some time
Were gonna make it work right
Yeah, were gonna build a new dream
Weve got to make it stand tall
Its got to last a long time
Lean on me
And Im gonna lean on you
Were headed for the future
And the futures now
Show you how
Yeah, were headed for a new place
A step at a time
Were gonna take a long ride
Time dont wait around forever
Weve got to do it right now
Lets do it all together
Lean on me
And Im gonna lean on you
Were headed for the future
And the futures now
Show you how
Lean on me
Cause Im gonna lean on you
Were headed for the future
Come on, lean on me
And Im gonna lean on you
Were headed for the future
And the futures ours
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Yeah
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song
COME, I will make the continent indissoluble;
I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon;
I will make divine magnetic lands,
With the love of comrades,
With the life-long love of comrades.
I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of
America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over
the prairies;
I will make inseparable cities, with their arms about each other's
necks;
By the love of comrades,
By the manly love of comrades.
For you these, from me, O Democracy, to serve you, ma femme! 10
For you! for you, I am trilling these songs,
In the love of comrades,
In the high-towering love of comrades.
poem by Walt Whitman
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A Happy Ending
After all the fun we had
Imagine my surprise
When I met you again
To discover that look of hatred in your eyes!
Someone must have been telling lies
About me, left, right, and centre
To make you hate me so.
Now all you do is criticize
And find fault with me.
I did my best -
I thought that all of us were friends -
How could I have guessed
You were the viper in the nest?
I don't know what to do,
I guess it all depends
If I can make up to you
And we can make amends.
Why throw away
Something that could have been so good?
You say 'Okay, '
Somehow I really knew you would!
Let's make a pact
That whenever we see our friends attacked
We will stand up for them.
The world is a bad enough place
As it is, and that's a fact:
Join up with me -
We've got to make other people see
That hatred's not their destiny,
Just love.
It's written in the stars above!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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My Heaven Falling In On Me
Its My Heaven Falling In On Me. A Sick Sensation. A Child Thrown Into The Real World. No Time For Fun. Your Life Has Already Begun. Holding Others Up Above Your Shoulders. Do What You Have To Do. Its Cold Outside, But Somehow We Must Still Survive. Were Starving And Cant Afford Food, But Still We Must Survive. Living The Best We Can Is All We Ever Can. Anger Rise Inside Their Eyes, And They Ask Why Have You Done This Too Me. Oh Why, Why Is It My Heaven Is Fallen In On Me. A Sick Sensation. Can't Make One Mistake. Its A Life Or Death Sentence. Accomplishments Mean Nothing. As They Always Have. Blame Anyone And Everyone. But Still The Fault Is Ultimately Our Own. The Seedling Must Be Watered Before It Can Be Grown. Life Can Be Taken Away As Easily As Its Given So Never Forget It. Everything Is Lesson, And This Is The Age Wisdom For Me. Even As My Heaven Is Falling In On Me. I Cant Stop Any Of It. Only Better Myself Because Of It. Make Friends Of Fortune. Make Friends Of Hurt And Pain. That's The Way I Must Survive. For Love Is The Only Answer To This Cancer. So Let My Heaven Fall On Me. I'll Hold It Up As Long As I Can. And Just Maybe I Wont Be The Only One There. In My Time Of Despair. Do What You Have To Do. Turn A Blind If You Must. But I Will Not. Because You Just Never Know.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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For Him I Sing
FOR him I sing,
I raise the Present on the Past,
(As some perennial tree, out of its roots, the present on the past:)
With time and space I him dilate--and fuse the immortal laws,
To make himself, by them, the law unto himself.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Speech is the twin of my vision, it is unequal to measure itself, it provokes me forever, it says sarcastically, Walt you contain enough, why don't you let it out then?
quote by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Offerings
A THOUSAND perfect men and women appear,
Around each gathers a cluster of friends, and gay children and
youths, with offerings.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Kid and the Sun
I look up in the sky and i see so many shapes and colors.
My life is what u see, but the colors are so dear to me
Kid talk- U make me smile everytime u shine
Sun-I want u to feel good and warm everytime
Kid talk-they say that u make people sick
Sun- only if u stand in my rays for a long time
Kid talk- Can i touch u
Sun- No my child cause I can burn u
Kid talk- When I look up at you your so bright, and beautiful
Sun- Thank u child I'm just doing what I suppose to do.
Kid talk- Last think why to we need u
Sun- U need me to make the crop grown and it will be dark and cold if I don't jump in
Kid talk- I see u and u see me and life is what it is and I love thee
Sun- I will always be around just look me up sometimes.
poem by Derrick Parsee
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Chidren Of Abraham
Our Father is the father of all fathers.
Our Father is Abraham’s Father.
Our Father is John’s Father.
Our Father is Joseph’s Father.
Our Father is Jesus’ Father.
Our Father is Paul’s Father.
Jesus would thank our Father for placing the secrets of heaven inside children.
I can be 20 and you can be 105.
We all are nothing but children in Gods perfect eyes.
Children symbolizes no worries,
Matthew Ch 6 v.25-34.
Children symbolizes love,
Matthew Ch5 v.43-48.
Children becomes the salt of the world,
Matthew Ch 5 v.13.
The salt is what makes the world taste good.
The salt are us the children of Abraham,
John,
Joseph,
Paul,
Jesus,
And the children of the Father of all fathers.
Jesus loves the youth so much.
Matthew Ch 19 v.14 Jesus said “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these”,
Meaning the children.
Matthew Ch 18 v.3” I tell you the truth,
Unless you change and become like children,
You will never enter the kingdom of heaven”.
Are we not children in the Fathers eyes?
Did the Father of all fathers not tell Jesus these things,
John Ch8 v.40?
Do we fall and make mistakes as little children?
Dose a good parent forgives their child after a child apologizes to them?
Dose a child builds in growth when the child cries and stops?
Dose discipline corrects the child when the child shows out?
Many would say “I pay the bills,
Therefore I am grown”,
But dose our Father God pay the bills still or is it the ones who claims their grown?
To the ones who claim their grown of course you put childish things away and you think as an adult,
But I ask you before the world dies and becomes consumed by the dark are you still a child at heart?
Matthew Ch18 v.3,
Children of Abraham please take heed.
Before Jesus returns and awaken all who are sleep.
Pleases realize and see that we all are children.
I may pay bills and work 24/7 with a complete high school education,
But still I teach those who are younger then me about the mercy of Jesus.
By playing video games and watching wrestling and cartoons on television with them.
The children by me already loves our Father Gods poetry.
Me being by their side talking and listing to them makes them smile.
I teach them what I know and I let them know that there’s nothing they can’t ask me about.
I enjoy laughing with them the kids as well,
Because I too am nothing but a child.
poem by Raff Rafael
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The Little Big Man
I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
I shall tell him, " Do you not know I am as big as father? And
I must not have lessons any more."
My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he
likes, for he is grown up."
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is
thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get
lost, my boy; let me carry you."
I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father?
I must go to the fair alone."
Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is
grown up."
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my
nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?"
I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as
father, and I must give silver to my nurse."
Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he
likes, for he is grown up."
In the holiday time in October father will come home and,
thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town
little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, "Father, give them to my data, for I am as big
as you are."
Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he
likes, for he is grown up."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Some Nights
And some nights when I'm alone I still pray
because I'm afraid of hell
And some nights when I'm in bed I lie awake
because I'm afraid of hell
my father was a preacher
his father was a pilot
his father was a killer
his father was a father
and some nights when I'm alone I become all of these things
and these things, on some nights, make me pray for fear of hell
my friends all sleep so soundly
my friends all know where they're going
my friends all tell their secrets openly
my friends all steal my friends
and some nights when I'm alone I cry for Jesus
because I'm afraid of hell
and some nights when I'm in bed I long for heaven
because I'm afraid of hell
poem by Joshua Cutts
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Friends
I'm having a bad day
Do you know what I mean
So I'm gonna sit down, relax
Then turn on my screen
I'll talk to all my friends
Tell them about my day
They help when I'm down
Make my troubles fade away
They're always there for me
Whenever I feel blue
Though we've never met before
I know their friendships true.
We haven't been friends for long
But in this short time it seems
We've shared so many things
Our hopes, our fears, our dreams
We come from different lives
But we have a common bond
Now I'd like to say to all of you
I've grown so very fond
I can say it's great to be here
With every single one of you
I would like to take this opportunity
To my friends I say thank you.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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