En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Lawyers' Ways

I've been list'nin' to them lawyers
In the court house up the street,
An' I've come to the conclusion
That I'm most completely beat.
Fust one feller riz to argy,
An' he boldly waded in
As he dressed the tremblin' pris'ner
In a coat o' deep-dyed sin.
Why, he painted him all over
In a hue o' blackest crime,
An' he smeared his reputation
With the thickest kind o' grime,
Tell I found myself a-wond'rin',
In a misty way and dim,
How the Lord had come to fashion
Sich an awful man as him.
Then the other lawyer started,
An' with brimmin', tearful eyes,
Said his client was a martyr
That was brought to sacrifice.
An' he give to that same pris'ner
Every blessed human grace,
Tell I saw the light o' virtue
Fairly shinin' from his face.
Then I own 'at I was puzzled
How sich things could rightly be;
An' this aggervatin' question
Seems to keep a-puzzlin' me.
So, will some one please inform me,
An' this mystery unroll--
How an angel an' a devil
Can persess the self-same soul?

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

You're my Angel

You're an Angel that nobody can see,
Still an Angel is what you are to me
An angel from heaven is what you are
In my sky you're definitely a heavenly star

You're an angel with beauty & grace
You're so kind & sweet,
you have an angel’s face
You have a pair of angel’s wings
Happiness and joy are just some things
That an angel can give

In my heart & mind is where you're living
You have hair as soft as the white clouds
A guardian angel is what I have gotten.
Your eyes are like sapphires that shine bright.
When everything is dark, you give me light.

You're an angel that gives me a reason to live,
You're an angel that teaches me to give.
You're an angel that teaches me the right things to say.
You're my angel & Ill always care.
You're my angel & you know Ill always be there.

poem by Dr Nihar Ranjan Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

U R My Angle

You're an Angel that nobody can see,
Still an Angel is what you are to me
An angel from heaven is what you are
In my sky you're definably a heavenly star

You're an angel with beauty & grace
You're kind & sweet, you have an angel face
You have very graceful angel wings
Happiness and joy are just some things
that an angel can give

In my heart & mind is where you're living
You have hair as soft as the white clouds
A guardian angel is what Ive gotten.
Your eyes are like sapphires that shine bright.
When everything is dark, you give me light.

You're an angel that gives me a reason to live,
You're an angel that teaches me to give.
You're an angel that teaches me the right things to say.
You're my angel & Ill always care.
You're my angel & you know Ill always be there.

poem by Ankur Garg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

You're an Angel

You're an angel that nobody can see,
Still, an angel is what you are to me.
An angel from heaven is what you are,
In my sky you're definitely a heavenly star.

You're an angel with beauty and grace,
You're kind and sweet, you've an angel face.
You have very graceful angel wings.
Happiness, joy, and love are just some things,

That an angel can give, and to me you've given.
In my heart and on my mind, is where you're livin'.
You have hair that is as soft as cotton.
A guardian angel is what I've gotten.

Your eyes are like sapphires that shine bright,
When everything is dark, you give me light.
You're an angel that gives me a reason to live,
You're the angel that teaches me to give.

You're the angel that makes me live another day,
You're the angel that teaches me the right things to say.
You're my angel and you'll always care,
You're my angel and you know I'll always be there.

(April the 4th.)

poem by Symone Raven
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Ol' Tunes

YOU kin talk about yer anthems
An' yer arias an' sich,
An' yer modern choir-singin'
That you think so awful rich;
But you orter heerd us youngsters
In the times now far away,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
There was some of us sung treble
An' a few of us growled bass,
An' the tide o' song flowed smoothly
With its 'comp'niment o' grace;
There was spirit in that music,
An' a kind o' solemn sway,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
I remember oft o' standin'
In my homespun pantaloons—
On my face the bronze an' freckles
O' the suns o' youthful Junes—
Thinkin' that no mortal minstrel
Ever chanted sich a lay
As the ol' tunes we was singin'
In the ol'-fashioned way.
The boys 'ud always lead ,as,
An' the girls 'ud all chime in,
Till the sweetness o' the singin'
Robbed the list'nin' soul o' sin;
An' I used to tell the parson
'Twas as good to sing as pray,
When the people sung the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
How I long ag'in to hear 'em
Pourin' forth from soul to soul,
With the treble high an' meller,
An' the bass's mighty roll;
But the times is very diff'rent,
An' the music heerd to-day
Ain't the singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
Little screechin' by a woman,
Little squawkin' by a man,
Then the organ's twiddle-twaddle,
Jest the empty space to span, —
An' ef you should even think it,
'T isn't proper fur to say
That you want to hear the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
But I think that some bright mornin',
When the toils of life air o'er,
An' the sun o' heaven arisin'
Glads with light the happy shore,
I shall hear the angel chorus,
In the realms of endless day,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sweethearts

IT’S gettin’ bits o’ posies,
’N’ feelin’ mighty good;
A-thrillin’ ’cause she loves you,
An’ wond’rin’ why she should;

An’ stoppin’ sort o’ sudden,
Because you’re full o’ thought;
An’ quick with res’less feelin’s
That make life seem too short!

It’s feelin’ ’s if she’d loved you
Before the world was made;
As if she still would love you,
When all our debts are paid;

As if there’s nothin’ mattered,
As if the world was good,
As if the Lord was lookin’,
An’ sort o’ understood.

It’s feelin’ kind an’ gentle
To everything that’s weak,
And doin’ jus’ sich actions
As nearly seem to speak;

Sich actions women reckon
Are certain to occur
When he’s in love with some one,
And that some one is—her.

poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Lost Soul To An Angel....

I am a devil who
lost his soul to an angel

Pretty face with pretty eyes
Devil I am, all dark inside
Saw you once or maybe twice
Lost my ways and I cannot hide
whenever you look at me,
I lose my mind

I am a devil who
lost his soul to an angel
I am a rebel who
lost his cause to a lover

You saved me from myself
you promised me salvation
through your Love
I promise, I will not leave you to
someone else

Now I wait for your invite
to be on your side,
under bright light,
where you might,
take me inside,
inside your church of love
give me a another chance
(so) I can prove
that..

I am a devil who
lost his soul to an angel
I am a rebel who
lost his cause to a lover

I am a devil who
lost his soul to an angel
I am a devil who
lost his soul to an angel

poem by Khalid Hameed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Attica State

-"it is my pleasure and privilige at this very solumn moment to introduce a young man and his wife.
Who saw fit to put down in music and lyrics so that it will never be forgotten in our country, by anyone, the tragedy of attica state.
There's no more that i can say, ladies and gentlemen. i would like to introduce you to john and yoko lennon."
-"i'd just like to say, it's an honour and a pleasure to be here at the apollo and for the reasons we're all here.
This song, yoko and i wrote, is called 'attica state'"
One, two, three, four!
What a waste of human power,
What a waste of human lives.
Shoot the pris'ners in the towers,
Forty-three poor widowed wives.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Media blames it on the pris'ners,
But the pris'ners did not kill.
"rockefeller pulled the trigger,"
That is what the people feel.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Free the pris'ners, jail the judges,
Free all pris'ners ev'rywhere.
All they need is truth and justice,
All the want is love and care.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
They all live in suffocation,
Let's not watch them die in sorrow.
Now's the time for revolution,
Give them all a chance to grow.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Come together, join the movement,
Take a stand for human rights.
Fear and hatred clouds our judgement,
Free us all from endless night.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Attica state, attica state,
We all live in attica state.
Attica state, attica state,
Attica, attica, attica state.
-"thank you, aah, thank you, thank you, aah,. some of you, eh, wonder what i'm doinh here with no drummers and no nothin' like that.
Well, you might know i lost my me old band, or i left it. i'm puttin' a, i'm puttin' an elecric band together, it's not ready yet.
Ah, things like this keep comin' up so, i just have to busk it. so i'm gonna sing you a song now you might know
It's called 'imagine'

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Attica State

-"it is my pleasure and privilige at this very solumn moment to introduce a young man and his wife.
Who saw fit to put down in music and lyrics so that it will never be forgotten in our country, by anyone, the tragedy of attica state.
There's no more that i can say, ladies and gentlemen. i would like to introduce you to john and yoko lennon."
-"i'd just like to say, it's an honour and a pleasure to be here at the apollo and for the reasons we're all here.
This song, yoko and i wrote, is called 'attica state'"
One, two, three, four!
What a waste of human power,
What a waste of human lives.
Shoot the pris'ners in the towers,
Forty-three poor widowed wives.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Media blames it on the pris'ners,
But the pris'ners did not kill.
"rockefeller pulled the trigger,"
That is what the people feel.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Free the pris'ners, jail the judges,
Free all pris'ners ev'rywhere.
All they need is truth and justice,
All the want is love and care.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
They all live in suffocation,
Let's not watch them die in sorrow.
Now's the time for revolution,
Give them all a chance to grow.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Come together, join the movement,
Take a stand for human rights.
Fear and hatred clouds our judgement,
Free us all from endless night.
Attica state, attica state,
We're all mates with attica state.
Attica state, attica state,
We all live in attica state.
Attica state, attica state,
Attica, attica, attica state.
-"thank you, aah, thank you, thank you, aah,. some of you, eh, wonder what i'm doinh here with no drummers and no nothin' like that.
Well, you might know i lost my me old band, or i left it. i'm puttin' a, i'm puttin' an elecric band together, it's not ready yet.
Ah, things like this keep comin' up so, i just have to busk it. so i'm gonna sing you a song now you might know
It's called 'imagine'

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Psalm 107 part 2

Correction for sin, and release by prayer.

From age to age exalt his name;
God and his grace are still the same;
He fills the hungry soul with food,
And feeds the poor with every good.

But if their hearts rebel and rise
Against the God that rules the skies;
If they reject his heav'nly word,
And slight the counsels of the Lord

He'll bring their spirits to the ground,
And no deliv'rer shall be found;
Laden with grief, they waste their breath
In darkness and the shades of death.

Then to the Lord they raise their cries;
He makes the dawning light arise,
And scatters all that dismal shade
That hung so heavy round their head.

He cuts the bars of brass in two,
And lets the smiling pris'ners through;
Takes off the load of guilt and grief,
And gives the lab'ring soul relief.

O may the sons of men record
The wondrous goodness of the Lord
How great his works! how kind his ways!
Let every tongue pronounce his praise.

poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Deacon Jones' Grievance

I'VE been watchin' of 'em parson,
An' I'm sorry fur to say
'At my mind is not contented
With the loose an' keerless way
'At the young folks treat the music;
'Tain't the proper sort o' choir.
Then I don't believe in Christuns
A-singin' hymns for hire.
But I never would 'a' murmured
An' the matter might 'a' gone
Ef it wasn't fur the antics
'At I've seen 'em kerry on;
So I thought it was my dooty
Fur to come to you an' ask
Ef you wouldn't sort o' gently
Take them singin' folks to task.
Fust, the music they're be'n singin'
Will disgrace us mighty soon;
It's a cross between a opry
An' a ol' cotillion tune.
With its dashes an' its quavers
An' its hifalutin style —
Why, it sets my head to swimmin'
When I'm comin' down the aisle.
Now it might be almost decent
Ef it wasn't fur the way
'At they git up there an' sing it,
Hey dum diddle, loud and gay.
Why, it shames the name o' sacred
In its brazen worldliness,
An' they're even got 'Ol' Hundred'
In a bold, new-fangled dress.
You'll excuse me, Mr. Parson,
Ef I seem a little sore;
But I've sung the songs of Isr'el
For threescore years an' more,
An ' it sort o' hurts my feelin's
Fur to see 'em put away
Fur these harum-scarum ditties
'At is capturin' the day.
There's anuther little happ'nin'
'At I'll mention while I'm here,
Jes' to show 'at my objections
All is offered sound and clear.
It was one day they was singin'
An' was doin' well enough —
Singin' good as people could sing
Sich an awful mess o' stuff —
When the choir give a holler,
An' the organ give a groan,
An' they left one weak-voiced feller
A-singin' there alone!
But he stuck right to the music,
Tho' 't was tryin' as could be;
An' when I tried to help him,
Why, the hull church scowled at me.
You say that's so-low singin',
Well, I pray the Lord that I
Growed up when folks was willin'
To sing their hymns so high.
Why, we never had sich doin's
In the good ol' Bethel days,
When the folks was all contented
With the simple songs of praise.
Now I may have spoke too open,
But 't was too hard to keep still,
An' I hope you'll tell the singers
'At I bear 'em no ill-will.
'At they all may git to glory
Is my wish an' my desire,
But they'll need some extry trainin'
'Fore they jine the heavenly choir.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Angel

My angel,
my sleeping angel held me through the night
hands so soft
In my eyes, he brought light
Empty words he said to me,
of a possible future I'll never see
But somewhere, deep inside
I know my angel loves me,
with such caress
fire in every touch
And when he slept
soft light whispered across him
his face carved of stone, perfection in every feature
My Sleeping Angel,
The one
I have found you,
My Angel

poem by Jacquelyn Burge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Secrete Beauty

She was not blessed with comely grace,
spurned and shunned by cupids arrows
because of her displeasing face
and breasts like kneecaps on a sparrow.
Her scrawny frame one could infer
if dressed in red and eyed sideways
she'd mimic a thermometer;
no outward grace to be displayed.
Her real beauty was deep inside
hidden behind two large, brown eyes
where a beautiful soul resides
eternally and undisguised.
Beauty is a skin-deep grace
it's just a temporary thing:
a short-term asset on a face
that fades away like this years spring.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Angel or Devil

My devil whispers,
Into my ear,
'Let the fire consume you, '
'Don't worry my dear, '

My devil smiles warmly,
His face is soft and kind,
He looks at me so loving,
As if he tells no lies,

My angel says,
'Don't listen to him, '
'The path he holds, '
'Is full of sin, '

My angel smiles softly,
He holds his arms out wide,
The look he gives is caring,
So much it makes me cry,

Should I choose the devil,
And be warmed by the flames,
Should I choose the angel,
An feel the light again,

The angel and the devil,
Which one do I choose,
The darkness or the light,
What would you decide to do?

poem by Kelly Aragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Letter

Dear Miss Lucy: I been t'inkin' dat I 'd write you long fo' dis,
But dis writin' 's mighty tejous, an' you know jes' how it is.
But I 's got a little lesure, so I teks my pen in han'
Fu' to let you know my feelin's since I retched dis furrin' lan'.
I 's right well, I 's glad to tell you (dough dis climate ain't to blame),
An' I hopes w'en dese lines reach you, dat dey 'll fin' yo' se'f de same.
Cose I 'se feelin kin' o' homesick--dat 's ez nachul ez kin be,
Wen a feller 's mo'n th'ee thousand miles across dat awful sea.
(Don't you let nobidy fool you 'bout de ocean bein' gran';
If you want to see de billers, you jes' view dem f'om de lan'.)
'Bout de people? We been t'inkin' dat all white folks was alak;
But dese Englishmen is diffunt, an' dey 's curus fu' a fac'.
Fust, dey's heavier an' redder in dey make-up an' dey looks,
An' dey don't put salt nor pepper in a blessed t'ing dey cooks!
Wen dey gin you good ol' tu'nips, ca'ots, pa'snips, beets, an' sich,
Ef dey ain't some one to tell you, you cain't 'stinguish which is which.
Wen I t'ought I 's eatin' chicken--you may b'lieve dis hyeah 's a lie--
But de waiter beat me down dat I was eatin' rabbit pie.
An' dey 'd t'ink dat you was crazy--jes' a reg'lar ravin' loon,
Ef you 'd speak erbout a 'possum or a piece o' good ol' coon.
O, hit's mighty nice, dis trav'lin', an' I 's kin' o' glad I come.
But, I reckon, now I 's willin' fu' to tek my way back home.
I done see de Crystal Palace, an' I 's hyeahd dey string-band play,
But I has n't seen no banjos layin' nowhahs roun' dis way.
Jes' gin ol' Jim Bowles a banjo, an' he 'd not go very fu',
'Fo' he 'd outplayed all dese fiddlers, wif dey flourish and dey stir.
Evahbiddy dat I 's met wif has been monst'ous kin an' good;
But I t'ink I 'd lak it better to be down in Jones's wood,
Where we ust to have sich frolics, Lucy, you an' me an' Nelse,
Dough my appetite 'ud call me, ef dey was n't nuffin else.
I 'd jes' lak to have some sweet-pertaters roasted in de skin;
I 's a-longin' fu' my chittlin's an' my mustard greens ergin;
I 's a-wishin' fu' some buttermilk, an' co'n braid, good an' brown,
An' a drap o' good ol' bourbon fu' to wash my feelin's down!
An' I 's comin' back to see you jes' as ehly as I kin,
So you better not go spa'kin' wif dat wuffless scoun'el Quin!
Well, I reckon, I mus' close now; write ez soon's dis reaches you;
Gi' my love to Sister Mandy an' to Uncle Isham, too.
Tell de folks I sen' 'em howdy; gin a kiss to pap an' mam;
Closin' I is, deah Miss Lucy, Still Yo' Own True-Lovin' Sam.

P. S. Ef you cain't mek out dis letter, lay it by erpon de she'f,
An' when I git home, I 'll read it, darlin', to you my own se'f.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Lawyer's Paradise

Some times law is very confusing
System of courts is quite amusing,
The cases are not disposed off fast
So significance of the justice is lost.

One or for other reason day after day
Months and years, cases are delayed.
Justice seekers wait long in the process
Pay for being victim of the dilatoriness.

Lawyers get adjournment every time
And charge to their clients per diem.
Some times to harass the opposition
Take adjournment for flimsy reason.

Many clients are poor and uneducated
Pay for justice and wait time unlimited.
The client suffers by adjournment practice
And unfortunately fall victim to injustice.

Some lawyers are habitual of adjournment
Some Continue meaningless argument;
For each adjournment client has to pay
Lawyer extract money, clients face delay.

Courts which do not timely decide
Are the places of lawyers paradise.

(c) S.D.Tiwari

poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Party

DEY had a gread big pahty down to Tom's de othah night;
Was I dah? You bet! I neveh in my life see sich a sight;
All de folks f'om fou' plantations was invited, an' dey come,
Dey come troopin' thick ez chillun when dey hyeahs a fife an' drum.
Evahbody dressed deir fines'- Heish yo' mouf an' git away,
Ain't seen no sich fancy dressin' sence las' quah'tly meetin' day;
Gals all dressed in silks an' satins, not a wrinkle ner a crease,
Eyes a-battin', teeth a-shinin', haih breashed back ez slick ez grease;
Sku'ts all tucked an' puffed an' ruffled, evah blessed seam an' stitch;
Ef you'd seen 'em wif deir mistus, coul n't swahed to which was which.
Men all dressed up in Prince Alberts, swaller-tails 'u'd tek yo' bref!
I cain't tell you nothin' 'bout it, y' ought to seen it fu' yo'se'f.
Who was dah? Now who you askin'? How you 'spect I gwine to know?
You mus' think I stood an' coutned evahbody at de do.'
Ole man Babah's house-boy Isaac, brung dat gal, Malindy Jane,
Huh a-hangin' to his elbow, him a-struttin' wif a cane;
My, but Hahvey Jones was jealous! seemed to stick him lak a tho'n;
But he laughed with Viney Cahteh, tryin' ha'd to not let on,
But a pusson would 'a' noticed f'om de d'rection of his look,
Dat he was watchin' ev'ry step dat Ike an' Lindy took.
Ike he foun' a cheer an' asked huh: 'Won't you set down?' wif a smile,
An' she answe'd up a-bowin', 'Oh, I reckon 't ain't wuth while.'
Dat was jes' fu' style I reckon, 'cause she sot down jes' de same,
An' she stayed dah 'twell he fetched huh fu' to jine some so't o' game;
Den I hyeahd huh sayin' propah, ez she riz to go away,
'Oh, you raly mus' excuse me, fu' I hardly keers to play.'
But I seen huh in a minute wif de othahs on de flo',
An' dah was n't any one o' dem a-playin' any mo';
Comin' down de flo' a-bowin' an' a-swayin' an' a-swingin',
Puttin' on huh high-toned mannahs all de time dat she was singin';
'Oh, swing Johnny up an' down, swing him all aroun',
Swing Johnny up an' down, swing him all aroun',
Oh, swing Johnny up an' down, swing him all aroun',
Fa' you well, my dahlin'.'
Had to laff at ole man Johnson, he's a caution now, you bet-
Hittiin' clost onto a hunderd, but he's spry an' nimble yet;
He 'lowed how a-so't o-gigglin', 'I ain't ole, I'll let you see,
D'ain't no use in gittin' feeble, now you youngstahs jes' watch me,'
An' he grabbed ole Aunt Marier- weighs th'ee hunderd mo' er less,
An' he spun huh 'roun' de cabin swingin' Johnny lak de res'.
Evahbody laffed an' hollahed: 'Go it! Swing huh, Uncle Jim!'
An' he swung huh too, I reckon, lak a youngstah, who but him.
Dat was bettah'n young Scott Thomas, tryin' to be so awful smaht.
You know when dey gits to singin' an' dey comes to dat ere paht:
'In some lady's new brick house,
In some lady's gyahden.
Ef you don't let me out, I will jump out,
So fa' you well, my dahlin'.'
Den dey's got a circle 'roun' you, an' you's got to break de line;
Well, dat dahky was so anxious, lak to bust hisse'f a-tryin';
Kep' on blund'rin' 'roun' an' foolin' 'twell he giv' one gread big jump,
Broke de line, an lit head-fo'most in de fiah-place right plump;
Hit 'ad fiah in it, mind you; well, I thought my soul I'd bust,
Tried my best to keep f'om laffin', but hit seemed like die I must!
Y' ought to seen dat man a-scramblin' f'om de ashes an' de grime.
Did it bu'n him! Sich a question, why he did n't give it time;
Th'ow'd dem ashes and dem cindahs evah which-a-way I guess,
An' you nevah did, I reckon, clap yo' eyes on sich a mess;
Fu' he sholy made a picter an' a funny one to boot,
Wif his clothes all full o' ashes an' his face all full o' soot.
Well, hit laked to stopped de pahty, an' I reckon lak ez not
Dat it would ef Tom's wife, Mandy, had n't happened on de spot,
To invite us out to suppah - well, we scrambed to de table,
An' I'd lak to tell you ' 'bout it - what we had - but I ain't able,
Mention jes' a few things, dough I know I had n't orter,
Fu' I know 't will staht a hank'rin' an' yo' muouf'll 'mence to worter.
We had wheat bread white ez cotton an' a egg pone jues like gol',
Hog jole, bilin' hot an' steamin' roasted shoat an' ham sliced cold -
Look out! What's de mattah wif you? Don't be fallin' on de flo';
Ef it's go'n' to 'fect you dat way, I won't tell you nothin' mo'.
Dah now - well, we had hot chttlin's - now you's tryin' ag 'in to fall,
Cain't you stan' to hyeah about it? S'pose you'd been an' seed it all;
Seed dem gread big sweet pertaters, layin' by de possum's side,
Seed dat coon in all his gravy, reckon den you'd up and died!
Mandy 'lowed 'you all mus' 'scuse me, d' wa'n't much upon my she'ves,
But I's done my bes', to suit you, so set down an' he'p yo'se'ves.'
Tom, he 'lowed: 'I don't b'lieve in 'pologisin' an' perfessin',
Let 'em tek it lak dey ketch it. Eldah Thomspon, ask de blessin'.'
Wish you'd seed dat colo'ed preachah cleah his th'oat an' bow his head;
One eye shet, an' one eye open, - dis is evah wud he said:
'Lawd, look down in tendah mussy on sich generous hea'ts ez des;
Make us truly thankful, amen. Pass dat possum, ef you please!'
Well, we eat and drunk ouah po'tion, 'twell dah wasn't nothin' lef,
An' we felt jes' like new sausage, we was mos' nigh stuffed to def!
Tom, he knowed how we'd be feelin', so he had de fiddlah 'roun',
An' he made us cleah de cabin fu' to dance dat suppah down.
Jim, de fiddlah, chuned his fiddle, put some rosum on his bow,
Set a pine box on de table, mounted it an' let huh go!
He's a fiddlah, now I tell you, an' he made dat fiddle ring,
'Twell de ol'est an' de lamest had to give deir feet a fling.
Jigs, cotillions, reels, an' breakdowns, cordrills an' a waltz er two;
Bless yo' soul, dat music winged 'em an' dem people lak to flew.
Cripple Joe, de old rheumatic, danced dat flo' f'om side to middle,
Th'owed away his crutch an' hopped it; what's rheumatics 'ginst a fiddle?
Eldah Thompson got so tickled dat he lak to los' his grace,
Had to tek bofe feet an' hol' dem so's to keep 'em in deir place.
An' de Christuns an' de sinnahs got so mixed up on dat flo',
Dat I don't see how dey'd pahted ef de trump had chanced to blow.
Well, we danced dat way an' capahed in de mos' redic'lous way,
'Twell de roostahs in de bahnyard cleahed deir th'oats an' crowed fu' day.
Y' ought to been dah, fu' I tell you evahthing was rich an' prime,
An' dey ain't no use in talkin', we jes had one scrumptious time!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Stories Of Hope Series #2 The Light

He traveled all night anxious to get home
He heard the familiar ring and picked up his phone
With tears in his eyes he covered his face
For it was his wife-Samantha-Samantha grace.
Her doctor had told her that she was dying
And seeing this specialist was worth trying.
So she packed up her bags and was waiting for him
But the doctor had said her prognosis was mighty grim.
When he arrived she was ready, the trip they
Would make would be fast and steady.
She climbed into the cab and they were on their way
She folded her hands and began to pray.
Dear LORD “ this can not be? “
What’s going to happen to my family?
Choked up with emotion he could not control
He asked GOD to save this beautiful soul.
A better wife and mother could not be found
She should not have to be laid in the ground.
As they drove down that dark lonely road
Thru the trees a bright light was shown.
He knew it could not be sunrise
He was shocked and surprised.
He applied his brakes and slowed down to see
But this light was a total mystery.
They stopped the truck and got out of the cab.
He looked at his wife and she had a smile on her face
“ this was his wife- this was his grace”.
There was an aura around her that he
Had never seen before, and would not see ever more.
They both dropped down to their knees
as the light got closer, and in that light they could see
An angel floating ever so gracefully.
The angel floated down and touched the top of her head
And then whispered in her ear:
Do not fret for things will get better yet.
And as quickly as he came he disappeared.
And the light whisked back up into the sky.
I looked at her and she looked fine.
We arrived at the office of the specialist
With the x rays they had given grace.
The doctor looked at them and pointed to a spot
And said the cancer had spread, but he would run
His own tests just to see, if there was something
That could give him some hope.
He took more x rays and did a cat scan
I sat there and held her hand.
We sat there and it seemed like an eternity
When he entered with a smile and said
“You’re cancer free”. I can not explain
For the tests they had taken were the best in the land
This is something I can’t understand.
We left his office with a new outlook on life
With HOPE in our hearts, the LORD
Saved my wife.

HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET OURSELVES FREE

poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Wer Im Wartesaal Der Liebe Steht

Du und ich hatten unsre zeit
Ist es nun am ende doch soweit?
Kann es wirklich mglich sein?
Unser himmel war wolkenlos
War das alles eine tuschung b
Und du lt mich nun allein
Und nun strzt der himmel ein
Wer Im wartesaal der liebe steht
Wei, da es um alles geht
Und man fragt sich nur
Wie wird das noch enden
Wer Im wartesaal der liebe steht
Hofft es ist noch nicht zu spt
Alles wird sich vielleicht zum guten wenden
Alles wird sich vielleicht zum guten wenden
War das etwa de endstation
Und ich merkte einfach nichts davon
Hab ich mich denn so geirrt?
Was zu tun war hab ich getan
Jetzt kommt es auf andre dinge an
Niemand wei was mit uns wird
Woh der weg uns fhrt
Wer Im wartesaal der liebe steht
Wei, da es um alles geht
Und man fragt sich nur
Wie wird das noch enden
Wer Im wartesaal der liebe steht
Hofft es ist noch nicht zu spt
Alles wird sich vielleicht zum guten wenden
Alles wird sich vielleicht zum guten wenden

song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Spiegelsaal

Der junge Mann betrat eines Tages in ein Spiegelsaal
Und entdeckte eine Spiegelung seines selbst
Sogar die groessten Stars
Entdecken sich selbst im Spiegelglas
Manchmal sah er sein wirkliches Gesicht
Und manchmal einen Fremde, den kannte er nicht
Sogar die groessten Stars
Finden ihr Gesicht im Spiegelglas
Manchmal verliebte er sich in seinem Spiegelbild
Und dann wiederum sah er ein Wahnbild
Sogar die groessten Stars
Moegen sich nicht im Spiegelglas
Er schuf die Person die er sein wollte
Und wechselte in einer neunen Persoenlichkeit
Sogar die groessten Stars
Veraendern sich selbst im Spiegelglas
Der Kunstler lebt
Mit dem Echo seines selbst
Sogar die groessten Stars
Leben ihr Leben im Spiegelglas
Sogar die groessten Stars
Machen sich zurecht im Spiegelglas
Sogar die groessten Stars
Leben ihr Leben im Spiegelglas

song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Our street light

there we would sit
under the street light
free from the dark
just you and me
having a laugh

talking bout the good times
talking bout the bad
however messed up our lives were
watever pain we were in
the street light would heal us and set us free again
it was our getaway
it was our thing

the street light brought us together
the street light brought us the end
i still remember that street light like that special glow you had my friend

the street light brought us fun
the street light brought us love
the street light brought us warmth as we lay and look at the stars above

i was happy under the street light
as i knew you were too
comforting each other was all we used to do
the street light may be faded
the street light may be dull
but lets just remember the street light kept us going strong!

poem by Brad Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!