Was I Just Dreaming?
I watched as the Lord carried his cross
through the streets of my estate,
I wanted to go and help him
but I just looked on instead.
Gangs of feral youths stood around
smoking dope and drinking lager
I was amazed they didn't notice
who was walking past them.
Then it dawned on me
he was invisible to their eyes.
I then watched Christ as he walked
through the crowded city streets,
people going about there business
too busy to notice the Lord in there midst.
I noticed him as he slowed down
was the cross getting too heavy to bear?
he stopped near to a public house,
customers stood outside drinking
but they too seemed oblivious
who was standing so close to them.
I followed behind him as he carried on
walking with his heavy cross
on through town after town,
city after city, country after country.
During his long painful journey
he witnessed wars upon wars,
violence upon violence,
hate, misery, sadness, loneliness.
but nobody knew that he was there.
Then I woke up drenched in sweat
realising it was all just a dream,
it was just a dream, wasn't it?
poem by Kevin Halls
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Related quotes
Romace in the moonlight
In the city where the colours run dry
Or in the country where the colour green is applied
In the city where there are polluting cars
Or in the country where you can see the stars
In the city there are gangs, all full of violence
Or in the country where there is only silence
In the city where the air, its so thick
Or in the country where you dont feel sick
In the city where you seal the deal
Or in the country where it is a place to heal
In the city every corner is a fight
But in the city the romance is in the moonlight
poem by Nicole Buckland
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Poem: Song to the Holy Cross
The cross of love:
The cross I love:
The cross I'd loved all life;
The wooden cross:
The holy cross:
The cross that bore man's strife.
The oaken cross:
The heavy cross:
The cross Jesus carried;
The cross on which
Christ Lord was nailed:
And bore man's sins indeed.
The cross of death:
The blood-stained cross:
The Savior, man, redeemed;
The cross of life's
Victory o'er death:
That souls on earth must heed.
poem by John Celes
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Jerusalem, Jerusalem How Glad
Jerusalem, Jerusalem how glad
am I in prayer to have stood;
in thee blessed city at remains
of thy second temple’s walls.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I sacred Via Dolorosa walked;
in remembrance atonement passed
stations of The Cross to have passed.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I who before entering sacred;
Garden of Gethsemane to view aged
olive trees was cast down humbled.
For Jesus in agony fear here sweated
blood in prayer to heaven to father God;
when last among these olives he stood
thus rejoice all bowed before our Lord.
In pilgrimage to Calvary where our Lord
for my sins humanities Christ was Crucified;
where a group of witnesses Marys stood
bewailing in heart soul worship as we should.
This most Holy City Jerusalem City of our God
site of our Saviour’s Cross where our Saviour trod;
Almighty God this is thy most sacred Holy City still
at Messiah’s return here raise holy men at thy will.
The Via Dolorosa (Latin for Way of Grief or Way of Suffering) is the sacred two part street, within the Old City of Jerusalem; where Jesus walked carrying the cross, on the way to his crucifixion.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Town And Country
Touched by a butterfly on my way home
Flying who knows where
Walking down that dusty road
Without a care
The sun was shining up in the country
And bells were ringing downtown
Clouds were moving slow and lazy
While I was kicking around
And feeling out the town and the country
Feeling out the town and the country
Up on the hill I got a better look
I watched the river run brown (watched the river run brown)
And then I heard those songbirds singing
The country sound
When I got home I sat in my kitchen
And turned the television on (turned the TV on)
The news wasn't good so I didn't listen
I started clicking around
Thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country
Thinking of the town and the country
In the morning everything will be the same
Open up your world (watch the children play)
In the sun or rain
Thinking of the town and the country
A thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country (fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Big City Type
I woke up in a big city apartment
Rode to a big city job
On a big city subway
With hip, big city people
Worked at a big city job
In a big city skyscraper
Stood in a big city line
For lunch, heard big city jazz
On a big city radio station
It was like a big city scene
In a big budget movie
When I realized I had become
The big city type
I always wanted to be
Yet I was still me
poem by Adam Artois
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All Spirits Will Rise
No one dares dream of beach houses
While walking on these dirty city streets
In the misty sullen rain
Where the children smile despite some new despair
That is always lurking around the corner.
A mother will drive home from work
And brush her hair
While listening to police sirens
Invade the open air.
Drug deals and daily violence
Mar the already bleak surroundings,
But someone will help an old lady
Cross the street
And all spirits will rise above the sadness
Of struggling survival.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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A Walk Around the Block
My friends and I went to the city
And we took a little walk
After having a delicious lunch
We walked around the block
You see, we were in Oklahoma City
A place that just never lets you down
So we took our time and noticed
Decorations adorning the town
We love the many colorful statues
Like Buffalo with so much charm
They look rather mean of course
But they really would do us no harm
The Colcard of course we visited
And the spectacular Sheridan
If you take the time and look around
You can always have terrific fun
The flowers are so colorful and pretty
We stopped and gave them praise
Yes, taking the time to notice things
Why, you really would be quite amazed
I hope that you too will take time
In whatever city you are in
To look and listen and observe
City life and its delightful blend!
poem by by unknown author
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Walking Town
One foot after the other
One place pretty much like another
Some folks got a pretty good deal
Some are just looking for their next meal
Out here where the days go by
And the glances never meet the eye
It's a walking town
And I'm just out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
You got a house on top of a hill
And a powerful automobile
The windows up, the AC high
In a world of comfort speeding by
Stressed out in the latest style
How long has it been since you walked a mile
In yours or anybody else's shoes
Well, in any life there will be dues
It's a walking town
And I'm just out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
Walking up, walking down
Walking back, walking 'round
Walking mute, walking bound
Walking through your walking town
One foot on the concrete shore
One foot in the human sea
Night falls on the streets of the city
And it falls over you and me
And all our dreams and our descriptions
Of the life this was supposed to be
Drift above the rooftops and the houses
Until the sunlight finds me where I lay
And it's a walking town
And I'm back out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
Lyrics by Jackson Browne
Music by Jackson Browne, Kevin McCormick, Mark Goldenberg, Mauricio Lewak, Jeff Young
(Swallow Turn Music, ASCAP; Eye Cue Music, ASCAP; Bossypants Music/Songs of Windswept Pacific, BMI; Bateria Music, ASCAP; Glad Brad Music, Inc., ASCAP)
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Floating Bridge
(by sleepy john estes)
Well I never will forget that floating bridge.
Lord I never will forget that floating bridge.
Lord I never will forget that floating bridge.
They tell me five minutes time underwater I was hid.
I was going down and I throwed up my hands.
As I was going down I throwed up my hands.
As I was going down I throwed up my hands,
Saying, please lord, take me on dry land.
Well they carried me in the house and they laid me cross the bed.
Well they carried me in the house, they laid me cross the bed.
Well they carried me in the house, they laid me cross the bed.
I couldnt hear nothing but muddy water running round my head.
Oh my mother often told me, quit playing a bum.
My mother always told me, quit playing a bum.
Lord, my mother always told me, son, quit playing a bum.
Go out somewhere and make a crumb.
All the people on the bridge was screaming and crying.
Well all the people on the bridge was screaming and crying.
All the people on the bridge stood screaming and crying,
Saying, lord have mercy, whers we gwine?
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Worcester
Worcester, the city of noise,
Walking along these city streets,
Seeing people busy,
pacing,
Cracked city walks,
Aged city houses,
Beautiful city air, '
Never seems to be a minute to spare,
As cars stream along,
Cops and fire trucks pass down my street.
Loud children playing in the streets.
As I walk down the street of mine,
I hear parents yelling at their children.
Dogs barking as you walk by,
Houses that are old and crusty,
Men and women fighting.
This right here is the city I was born in.
The City Of Worcester!
poem by Cassandra Prew
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The City With Eyes
The city with eyes
Sees everything,
City with eyes
Hears everything
Feels everything
The city with eyes
Sees people living on the rough side of the streets
Sees people eating crumbs from the floor
Sees people with ripped clothes and no shoes
Watching other people wearing lubatones walking past
It cries not one but millions of tears
For them
Tears which touch every one
Which soaks everything
Rain, they call it.
The city with eyes
Watching
What has happened to my city?
It cries with sorrow
The city with eyes
Feels the sadness
Of those in need, sad, hurt, …
Watching what was happy
To what is sad know
Just Enough Ashland City
Well I don't know how I found her
Love works in mysterious ways
Well I could hardly afford a cup of coffee back then
Weren't exactly my salad days
She knew I was just pretending
To be some kind of big shot
It took her two hours to tell a little something about herself
And that's when my heart stopped
She was just enough Ashland City
To wanna watch the sun go down
She was just enough small town girl
To cook my supper in an evening gown
But Lord didn't she look pretty
Doin' that shake and bake
She was just enough Ashland City
And buddy that's about all it takes
A week later we got married
Yeah, I was gonna show her the world
'Cause I was Mr. Sophisticated and she was just a country girl
She wound up showing me everything
I'd ever been dreaming of
Well, I might've known the way to San Jose
But I didn't know a thing about love
She was just enough Ashland City
To wanna put the t-top down
Take a skinny dip in that old gravel pit
About twenty miles out of town
But Lord didn't she look pretty
Swimming out of those bell bottom jeans
She was just enough Ashland City
And that's more than I'd ever seen
That was fifteen years ago
Nothing much has changed
Well I still try to play the big shot yeah and she's still dressing strange
She still has a hard time
Telling you about herself
So let me tell you a little about the woman I love
'Cause buddy she's something else
She's just enough Ashland City
To wanna watch the sun go down
Just enough small town shy
To keep this ol' boy hanging around
Lord don't she look pretty
In an evening gown or jeans
She's just e
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Country Girl
Written by - Jim Croce
She was just a country girl
Didn't have those New York City ways
When she hopped a bus in Ohio
Headin' for the crowded streets where no one says a word
She was just a country girl living in the lonely city
Met a man who learned her name
She became a woman on a rainy New York night
Chorus:
There's a new day dawnin' in the city
She calls her Mama collect
Sayin' Mama send bus fare back to Ohio
Have somebody meet me at the depot
She was just a country girl
Spent some time in New York City
Now she tells her friends about lonely New York City
And her lonely New York night
Chorus
She was just a country girl
She was just a country girl
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knock, Knock
Lord Jesus stood there at my door
And twice He knocked then stayed.
It was my choice, I could ignore
And that's why I delayed.
He walked away.
I watched Him leave
Then got on with my life,
To sin like others who deceive
And cause all sorts of strife
Lord Jesus stood there at my door
And I watched Him inside.
I knew He knew my every flaw,
Not one could be denied.
I stood my ground, He left again.
I let Him walk away.
I struggled every now and then
With fears of Judgment Day.
My bank account looked mighty fine
As fifteen years passed by.
To think that all that cash was mine.
How come my soul felt dry?
Lord Jesus stood there at my door,
With fear I turned the key.
And simply stared at Christ with awe.
You see, He died for me.
Lord Jesus entered as my friend,
Yet also set me straight.
My useless life came to an end,
God's love to celebrate.
I sighed I'd made Him wait so long.
Those years I can't restore.
I tell you this, you can't go wrong
If you open the door.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Town & Country
Written by dewey bunnell and gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Touched by a butterfly on my way home
Flying who knows where
Walking down that dusty road
Without a care
The sun was shining up in the country
And bells were ringing downtown
Clouds were moving slow and lazy
While I was kicking around
And feeling out the town and the country
Feeling out the town and the country
Up on the hill I got a better look
I watched the river run brown (watched the river run brown)
And then I heard those songbirds singing
The country sound
When I got home I sat in my kitchen
And turned the television on (turned the tv on)
The news wasnt good so I didnt listen
I started clicking around
Thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country
Thinking of the town and the country
In the morning everything will be the same
Open up your world (watch the children play)
In the sun or rain
Thinking of the town and the country
A thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country (fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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11.3
Have you ever seen my city?
The water flows free, like a river
through the streets.
My beautiful city.
During summer
cherry blossom, green grass, sunshine
the okiya, and jiin
Smiles and waves in the streets of
my city
now left with greif and pity.
Water, silver, mixed shades of brown and green
rushes past, flowing fast
stealing away people's world.
Filling the remains of a tea house
red, gold, glint as they float away.
A sofa lies in the midst of a field
stood alone, survival, vivid green,
perhaps it once belonged
to a family, like me or you.
Have you ever seen my city?
Beautiful, as it was, nothing
could compare
Now only left a waste land of destruction
after the quake tore through
and the waves rolled in
and my city, a lake now lies.
poem by Mia Rennow
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The City Vs. The Country
In the city where the colours run dry,
Or in the country where the farmers grow rye.
In the city where there are fees,
Or in the country where beauty is free.
In the city where there are loud crowds,
Or in the country where you can watch clouds.
In the city where you camp out in your room,
Or in the country where you have fun dancing with a broom.
In the city where there are polluting cars,
Or in the county where you can see stars.
In the city where you seal the deal,
Or in the country where you can heal.
In the city where you say later,
Or in the country where you can see the water.
In the city where space is tight,
Or in the country where you hold their hand in the moonlight.
Written by Haley McRae,14.
poem by Haley McRae
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The Pretty, Pretty City
Now the city has a studded nose,
Because the city is so pretty, and the city knows:
The city, she almost fooled me underneath the
Chicken sky- The city is so pretty,
But the city lie:
I loved the city and all its vermilion moods and ice-creams,
With parks and busses and city airplanes
And city rides- City coffins and city dies;
And I watched the city get drunk and turn around
And raise its monuments and party down;
And I sat upon one of her benches in a speculating mood,
And wondered if the city was so pretty,
Why was she so rude: The vulgar nebulas of the city’s
Eyes, the narcissisms of its displays:
There are so many well suited boys better than I out walking
In their sunny city days:
And I realized, the city didn’t love me,
The city plays and paws and eats up little boys such as
Me- She said she loves her little poet boys, such as me,
But the sweet, sweet city lies,
Because the city is so pretty, studded nosed and stunning eyed,
But she uses her autumn facades to blind the autumn chicken skies-
The pretty, pretty city has me hypnotized,
But the pretty, pretty city lies.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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My Hometown
Jersey City is where I was born
I woke up to see many a dawns
It's not a bad city, it was a place to live
But there were many times it didn't forgive
The streets were tough, the winter's cold
It s city you can embrace, but one you can never hold
The streets will own you and rule you
There's not too much one can do
After some years you'll be ready to leave
It will no longer have the things you need
That's when you know it's time to leave
Because in the city you can longer believe
Now people grow up there and decide to stay
But so many many more just go a different way
6-18-10/RJH
poem by Ray Hansell
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