Hammer Friend, Hammer Loud
building workers
hammering
with tremendous thrust
to dust the roof
of old construction
long time
unbearable sound
of repeated hammering
puzzled my nerves
but when I observed
the accurate task...
got excited
sometimes it needs
to be hammered
old values
old dogmas
even the old
institutions
holding the global observance
need to be smashed to form
the new constitution
to save the civilians
the nations
and obviously the earth
where we live the human
here hammering workers alone
but millions of millions
when get charge to hammer
just imagine
the dust
irresistible
to expose
a new dawn....
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Related quotes
Under The Hammer
Under the hammer, under the hammer again
Under the hammer, under the hammer again
I gotta be strong, gotta be strong yeah
I gotta hold on, hold on to the magical key
Somebody's following me
I've got to know some more than this suffering
There's something more but it's just not happening
I've got to know some more than this hammering
Hammering you
Under the hammer, under the hammer again
Under the hammer, under the hammer again
I've got to be free, heal me mantra
Send me an earthquake, drag the city into the sea
Somebody's following me
I've got some news, everybody's going down
Apocalypse now!
song performed by by Kula Shaker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hammers (A trilogy)
Hammered
The hammer is inside my head,
it's a never ending drum beat
that is my husband, berating me.
As he his key turns in the lock
my blood pressure
rises.
He'll check the wallpaper
for marks that the children
may have made.
He'll demand I keep them quiet,
take them away,
control them.
They are only toddlers
and I have only
one pair of hands
but he'll moan about it
until he goes to bed at
12 o'clock
As he gets into bed
his moaning will stop
but my head still aches
then at 7 while he shaves,
he'll continue to remonstrate
he won't stop
and I'm sure he's still talking
as he walks to the station.
It's the hammering,
the constant hammering
and it's driving me insane -
one day the hammer will fall.
Bad Fit
How many nails do I have to have
hammered into my brain to realise
we don't fit?
This liaison has always been flawed.
Gel, we never did, but we had passion.
A wealth of it.
Should I take this hammer
and strike the final blow?
I don't know.
Hammers strike memories,
as though they're all piano keys
and the sound is harsh..
They have me re-visiting old war wounds
that I should have buried years ago.
They are awakening.
They've been dormant for so long.
Maybe I should have had one final strike
and put them to rest.
The trouble is, if I pick up the hammer
and strike the first blow,
I may never stop.
Broken heart.
She took a hammer to the mirror,
the paintings, the vase, the table
and battered them to death.
She took a hammer to the car,
its bonnet, its boot and its roof
and made dents.
She took a hammer to her heart,
hit it hard, tried to gouge it out
with its claw
and then she realised -
it was already dying; bleeding,
all over the floor.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Heartbeat
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering, yeah.
I met a little cutie back in sixty-
six, She used to tie you up
And beat you with a walking stick.
I said, 'Mama, call a doctor you
must be sick!'
She told me that's the only way I
get my kicks.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering.
I been around the world about a
time and again,
I met a little chick in an opium
den.
She put a spell on me that'd freeze
a man,
I said, 'help me, save me', but she
did it again.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering,
yeah, ok.
Oh, oh, oh, yeah.
I met a little lady just yesterday,
Lord, she loves me in a special way.
She put coffee in my tea and she love to say,
'I wanna hold you, I wanna keep you, baby,
Now don't be afraid'.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering, yeah.
I don't wanna lose; I don't wanna lose,
I don't wanna lose;
I don't wanna lose myself in love again, yeah.
No, no, lord no.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat, yes my beating heart,
My heartbeat keeps on hammering.
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With A Roaring Sound Waves Crash
With a roaring sound waves crash
under Waenhuiskrans,
and they cave there
when gigantic tongues of spray
like white stars break mightily
drenching everything with deep water
like white stars,
like white stars
just before the red dawn comes.
With a roaring sound waves crash
deep out of the dark sea,
like a pack of hungry wolves
that does not give up territory
the water keeps hammering
where it knocks against hard rock,
the water keeps hammering.
the water keeps hammering
until it flows through the cave itself.
With a roaring sound waves crash,
hit battering blows
with endless power
into the folds of the rock
and caught you and I stand
where we see a spectacle
and caught
and caught
mightily the sea sweeps past.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Come & Get It
Do you like it heavy
Do you love it mean
Do you want it dirty
We dont play it clean
Standing in the spotlight
Ceiling to the floor
I can see you rockin
Let me hear you roar
Turn it up
Tear it down
Hammering through
Can you feel the sound
Any day, any night
Midnight madness
Dynamite
If you want it
Come and get it
Do you want it
Come and get it
Can you feel the power
Blinded by the light
Keep on goin crazy
Burnin up the night
Shouting out together
Boiling like the sun
Metal lives forever
Blazing on and on
Turn it up
Tear it down
Hammering through
Can you feel the sound
Any day, any night
Midnight madness
Dynamite
If you want it
Come and get it
Do you want it
Come and get it
Do you like it heavy
Do you love it loud
If you want it
Come and get it
Do you want it
Come and get it
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Billy's Rain
When I'm lying awake, listening to rain
hammering on the roof,
the phrase comes back to me,
our code for 'Let's get out of here'.
We were huddled in the back of a van
with the lights, the videotape equipment
and the man with the rain machine.
'Why can't we use the regular rain?' you asked,
as rain hammered on the roof.
'That's God's rain', said someone.
'It doesn't show up on film.
We need Billy's rain for this one'.
When I find myself soaked to the skin, tired,
or merely bored with God's rain,
the phrase comes back to me.
I'd say it now if I thought you were listening.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Hugo Williams
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February Rain
To be the mud, the bog, the mire;
To soak the bones in February –
Eons from the autumn shower–
Even from a summer berry!
Sparrows chirp a desperate call,
Darting questions at the cows –
Oblivious to the dousing squall, they
Churn the sludge with pastern ploughs.
The crying air was lost in rhythm:
Drums incessant in the drops;
Not a chance for rainbow prism –
Even if the hammering stops!
Metallic chills entrap machines –
Tractors hushed within the shed.
Inside the house, a full cuisine
To bless with mead – and little said!
But out across the tiring field,
A sodden fox is hunting down
His prey of sorts – but nil of yield;
Perhaps he’ll starve; perhaps he’ll drown.
Still the clouds are hammering,
Hammering home their dreary aim –
A chatterbox in constant yammering,
Drenching all to make a claim.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It Begins Right Now!
we live in the most intense time
that the modern world has seen...
governments and economies are
caving from within... the very
air we breathe is polluted, the
water we drink has been defiled.
sea life is being destroyed, and
the world food situation worsens
at an alarming rate... millions
live and die in poverty, millions
are homeless, without medical care...
masses of workers are unemployed,
children grow up on the streets
without hope, and end up in prison.
human rights are being violated,
or just plain taken. and people
are absolutely afraid of each other!
we have closed our eyes, and numbed
our souls for too long. now we stand
on the brink of disaster, and we're
forced to wake up!
so what can one person do? one person
can live in a way that stands for truth...
one person can demand freedom, and equality.
one person can reach out a helping hand...
and when one person daring to live becomes
millions, we can move the stone from the
mouth of the cave!
but it all begins with one person... and
it begins right now, or its too damned late!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Millions of water drops
drops of water
millions of drops
Falling down the rocks
Millions of water drops
Glittering in the sun
Shining like pearls
Millions of water drops
Ending as a river
Finding way to ocean
Millions of water drops
Creating childrens happiness
Laughter and joyfullness
Millions of water drops
Soon will tide reach
White long shores
Millions of water drops
Animating Waves
into forming caves
Millions of water drops
splittering from above
till reaching top of the hill
Millions of water drops
Without them no sound
No whispers of the living
Millions of water drops
Watch the clearness
From crest to earth
Millions of water drops
For tribe’s best
Beware of waste
Millions of water drops
Treasured should they be
As belonging to all humanity
(march 2008, Switzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Confusion Homeless
confusion
heartache
to care to much
in a world
that cares too little
what joy
in making money
taken from new homeless
new recruits
first world workers
joining homeless millions
joining starving millions
smoke screen politicians
cutting secret graft deals
beating around profit bush
thus is proud nations birthright sold
poem by Terence George Craddock
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For my part, if I consider poetry as an object, I maintain that it is born of the necessity of adding a vocal sound (speech) to the hammering of the first tribal music.
quote by Eugenio Montale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is More To Life Than Hard Work
I can't say my life's been a great life that I've been there and I've done that
But I worked in pipe laying crew for Michael Kelleher in Buninyong near Ballarat
And I worked in the late eighties for a firm called C.D.L.
Jack hammering in the heat of Summer when the days were hot as hell.
101 Collins Street Melbourne I remember that address
Not that I enjoyed the work there I remember none the less
Up each morning at five thirty then to work on tram I'd go
And left that building site each evening covered in dust head to toe.
Another four years as tree clearer up by powerlines clearing trees
Operating a cherry picker for such you don't need degrees
For a Travel tower company a growing concern managed by a greedy lot
They still owe me two weeks wages something I have not forgot.
Up working mornings at five thirty between work and travel a twelve hour day
Whilst my so called bosses made their millions I took home bare living pay
Now I take it nice and easy and I'm well off now as I was then
If your bosses make their millions for you there can't be a win
I worked as tree feller in Ireland far away and long ago
In the high woods by the mountains where the peaks wear hats of snow
Most Winter days were wet and chilly up to April not much sunshine
Only sound the cold wind soughing in the larch and spruce and pine.
'Hard work never did anybody harm' to coin that phrase it took a fool
Hard work your life's bound to shorten you can overwork a mule
Hard working Joe is dead at fifty, Pete on welfare living on
Pete five years older and quite healthy he's still here and Joe is gone.
Maybe I've drudged for a few years but I'm not proud of that at all
And if my life has got one highlight such as now I can't recall
And if one tell me how hard he work I tell him my watch is slow
And I'm late for an appointment 'see you later got to go'.
'Ned the basher' at his local like to sing his praises loud
And boast of the hard work he's done to an uninterested crowd,
He's proud to show his work callouses he must have an empty life
But he never once did mention how he often beats his wife
There is more to life than hard work, work to live but not to die
And if you labour hard poor fellow life you never can enjoy
If your boss is making millions and you take home bare living pay
Maybe you should have a re-think and perhaps give the job away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Come And Get It
Do you like it heavy?
Do you love it mean?
Do you want it dirty?
We don't play it clean
Standing in the spotlight
Ceiling to the floor
I can see you rockin'
Let me hear you roar
Turn it up!
Tear it down!
Hammering through
Can you feel the sound
Any day
song performed by by Judas Priest from Ram It Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Of Them!
student protesters
close down Wall Street....
peaceful waves lapping
at the shore....
but the storm is coming;
students give way to workers,
workers without food,
without housing or medical care,
workers without hope....
angry workers,
and they damn sure
ought to be...
i know, i'm one of them!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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(Naughty Poems) The Man In The Street
I am screaming
At the man in the street
I am warning him that there
Are others out there who have
The money who can deceive you
To make you worse than you are or
Make you the princess who gladdens
Our long suffering eyesights
I am hammering sense into the hard
Of hearing brother in the streets
I am reasoning with him
To take more care of your interests
And the welfare of the kids
I am warning him to spend less
Hours in the brothels and sacrifice
More and more quality time with
Their mother and the children he
Has pleasurably and with the law
On his side... duly sired
I am talking to the man
In the highest office in the land
I am instructing him to tell
The lawmakers to make it an offense
To they that have made it possible that
There should be such huge disparities
In the salaries of the workers
And the do nothing managers
I am talking more and more
To the girls and the boys of school
Going age.I am warning them of the dire
Consequences that await them in the world
Of the adult if they don't get enough
Education if they experiment with drugs
If they sleep around to be teen mums
I am talking boastfully
To the man in the immaculate office
I am threatening to expose him
To the gutter journalists who will haul
Him to the court of public opinion
And they will convict him and summarily
Send him to the jail of eternal ridicule
And condemnation if he doesn't stop
Extorting the odd bribe from the long
Suffering man in the street.S'true's God
Yuh canna quote me before the reverend
About that on mi pain of death
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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A Disability Inside A Rustic Room...
someone writes about
a rebellion, a struggle of a set of native still not free
even in this age of
a shrinking world
where everything seems to be a text away
or that distance
which curls and tells you
they are all there and happy in green
and white
hands in prayer and minds in peace
and mouths speaking about abundance and wellness
and paradise thriving in skyscrapers
and parks
someone writes about the death of civilians under
oppressive regimes
brought about by leaders who refuse to step down
or someone exposes the trafficking of women somewhere in southeast Asia
and brought in bulgaria or
a black island
someone writes about a strike of workers whose wages are
below survival
about the hardships of exploited laborers
while their employers are enjoying so much of the profits
wasting it in the beaches of
Thailand and
the shopping malls of Singapore
i could have been that someone
but i am here stacked in the haystacks of my own silly dreams
stuffed like a bear
and dressed in black robe
hammering my days like
a metal smith
sweating it out beside a big fire
but still unable to decide what shape to make out of this metal
what sharpness is needed
in this sword without a
luster.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Stone-Cutter
We hammer, hammer, hammer on and on,
Day-out, day-in, throughout the year,
In blazing heat and tempests drear;
God's house we slowly heavenward rear--
We'll never see it done!
We hammer, hammer, hammer, might and main.
The sun torments, the rain drops prick,
Our eyes grow blind with dust so thick;
Our name is dust, too, fadeth quick--
No glory and no gain!
We hammer, hammer, hammer ever on.
O blessed God on Heaven's throne,
Dost thou take care of every stone
And leave the toiling poor alone,
Whom no one looks upon?
poem by Carmen Sylva
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The cute woodpecker
A cute woodpecker
Is hammering with its beak
A coconut tree.
poem by Asif Andalib
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We Are Not Actors!
when millions of our ancestors died for the truth,
when millions of them never acted in their life,
when millions of us work hard with our only face,
who told that world is full actors and actresses?
memorized scripts are repeated,
repeated verses can be recorded and edited,
The director vision is visualized,
Rehearsal can make the scenes perfect.
we live a scene only once in real life,
no directors, editors and the script writer,
we live our life with emotions and blunders,
we feel every moment that is not felt by the actors,
who told that world is the stage and we are the actors?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Thank the Light Workers
Thank the Light Workers that shine their light
Thank the Light Workers who set this realm right.
Earth was almost at a point of total collapse
now we made it through 2012
and 2013 almost here at last.
Light Workers saved the ocean from that oil spill
prayer was sent by many people because sea life ill.
Sea life heard the prayers and went to an island faraway
it was recorded as phenomenal to this very day.
Thank the Light Workers once again
and Thank yourself my dear friend
Thank also the all the Angels in heaven.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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