The Destroyers Of This Earth....
what do get from all these noise
the shouting women
screaming madness
all the commands of men
we get feed with something
that we always like to vomit
in the streets of this
shattering cities
we will be missing what was once there
a running brook, sunshine softly shining on the green fields of wheat
children cheering one another upon their innocent little games
white dogs beside the working men carrying their spades for digging
the women bathing and washing by the river
we are no longer happy people
having sinned destroying what was once green and fresh and alluring
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Green Fields And Running Brooks
Ho! green fields and running brooks!
Knotted strings and fishing-hooks
Of the truant, stealing down
Weedy backways of the town.
Where the sunshine overlooks,
By green fields and running brooks,
All intruding guests of chance
With a golden tolerance,
Cooing doves, or pensive pair
Of picnickers, straying there--
By green fields and running brooks,
Sylvan shades and mossy nooks!
And--O Dreamer of the Days,
Murmurer of roundelays
All unsung of words or books,
Sing green fields and running brooks!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
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Women & Men
When the ship runs out of ocean
And the vessel runs aground
Land's where we know the boat is found
Now there's nothing unexpected
About the water giving out
"land's" not a word we have to shout.
But there's something beside the shoreline
Moving across the beachhead
Coming up from the shipwreck
Making as if to say:
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
(women & men) bringing with them messages of love
And every where they go love will grow (love will grow)
(women & men) when you see the faces of the women
And the men, you too will know (you will know)
Women & men have crossed the ocean
They now begin to pour
Out from the boat and up the shore
Two by two they enter the jungle
And soon they number more
Three by three as well as four by four
Soon the stream of people gets wider
Then it becomes a river
River becomes an ocean
Carrying ships that bear
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women Men
When the ship runs out of ocean
And the vessel runs aground
Lands where we know the boat is found
Now theres nothing unexpected
About the water giving out
Lands not a word we have to shout.
But theres something beside the shoreline
Moving across the beachhead
Coming up from the shipwreck
Making as if to say:
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
(women & men) bringing with them messages of love
And every where they go love will grow (love will grow)
(women & men) when you see the faces of the women
And the men, you too will know (you will know)
Women & men have crossed the ocean
They now begin to pour
Out from the boat and up the shore
Two by two they enter the jungle
And soon they number more
Three by three as well as four by four
Soon the stream of people gets wider
Then it becomes a river
River becomes an ocean
Carrying ships that bear
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Sided Love
Two Sided Love
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted 24 2009
Women think with their hearts,
men think with their Johnson.
Women think with their heads,
men think with the wrong head, they have two heads.
Women give love with men,
men give screwing with women.
Women want to touch men,
men want to get abusive to women.
Women want be emotional with men,
men want to be unemotional with women.
Women want have physical attraction with men,
men want to give the abusive apart to women.
Women want sex with men,
men want to give rape to women.
Women wants to talk to men,
men want watch TV and screw women.
Women want to eat out with men,
men want a free ride from the women.
Women want to go to movies with men,
men want play games on computer.
Women want children with the men,
men are children.
Women are independent,
men are dependent.
Women achieve goals,
men half the time never finish their goals.
Women are unselfish even caring to men,
men are selfish besides uncaring to women.
Women give true love to men,
men give infatuation to woman.
poem by Lori Triggs
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Shades Of Grey
If you start here late no one will know what you did
No the streets are straight its the soul thats crooked
Ive been treated fine Ive been treated elegantly
But Im not one for bathing in the waters of plenty
East is east west is west
And bowery is screaming while delancey rests
Well Im south of the skating but Im north of the cash
I could sure use the money but Im ashamed to ask
The traffic has buried all of last nights rain
The words are all different but the accent is the same
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
Theres at least ten different strains of smoke in the air
And my prints are on them all to prove I was there
And I love the curses but Im not one for the trenches
And I do love the walking but thank God for the benches
Its hard to tell where green begins and the city gray stops
I guess the trees all bought their armor at second hand shops
My second had is working but the minute hand is broke again
I know time will pass but I dont know when
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
And there are no shades of gray in between
I know the great ones have been here but where I cant tell
Theres dreams here a plenty but theyre being withheld
And Im more impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open
The whole place tells time by a tower clock thats broken
The pigeons are ravens and the gulls are vultures
And trash is art and cash is culture
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Country Of Infinite Dawn
to a country of infinite dawn when everything you see is grey
when mist is the color of their day
sunshine becomes a luxury
the sun its God
and when they come to my tropical country where sunshine is everyday
they say
this is paradise, this is what i have been missing in my life
the beach, the green fields, the natural springs
these white old men, on retirement, on vacation to this counrtry
do not be fooled
when it gets dark, and when the neon lights start to glitter
they begin to ask some names: linda, rowena, baby, celestina
oh you know what i mean, they are looking for our women
cheaper and cleaner
and wait there is another, he is looking for the brown boys
the ever younger ones
even the uncircumcised
welcome to this paradise, this island of desire,
destroy this home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shades Of Gray
If you start here late, no one will know what you did
No, the streets are straight, it's the soul that's crooked
I've been treated fine,
I've been treated elegantly
But I'm not one for bathing in the waters of plenty
East is East,
West is West
And The Bowery is screaming while Delancey rests
Well, I'm south of the skating, but
I'm north of the cash
I could sure use the money but
I'm ashamed to ask
The traffic has buried all of last night's rain
The words are all different but the accent is the same
The sun is white, and the moon is gray
And the river is black, blue and green
The young are young, and the old are old
There are no shades of gray in between
There's at least ten different strains of smoke in the air
And my prints are on them all, to prove I was there
And I love the curses, but I'm not one for the trenches
Yes I do love the walking , but that God for the benches
It's hard to tell where green begins, and the city gray stops
I guess the trees all bought their armor at second hand shops
My second hand is working, but the minute hand broke again
I know time will pass, but I don't know when
The sun is white, and the moon is gray
And the river is black, blue and green
The young are young, and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
And there are no shades of gray in between
I know the great ones have been here, but where I can't tell
There's dreams here a plenty, but they're being witheld
And I'm more impressed with the closed doors
Than the ones that are open
The whole place tells time by a tower clock that's broken
The pigeons are ravens, and the gulls are vultures
And trash
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The advocates of abortion on demand falsely assume two things: that women must suffer if the lives of unborn children are legally protected; and that women can only attain equality by having the legal option of destroying their innocent offspring in the womb.
quote by Robert Casey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Joy Of Having Nothing
THE women are dancing in open fields
their veils thrown away into the golden stacks of hay
the children too are carrying their drums and tambourines
The men are singing
The old men and women with all the years stored in their ears watch with joy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For The Sake Of Progress
We wander down the paths,
we used so long ago, when we were young,
before the world we now know.
Down the country lanes, shaded and narrow,
by fields of wheat and marrow.
By sunlight, by moonlight, we lazed on our way.
Passed the green lands we did not stray.
Years have descended on us and our pleasures there,
it made a waste land of our garden fair.
Air is more darker.
Factories belch smoke here and there.
No more the soft white clouds, or birds on the wing.
Just black pools of floating fish,
while greasy faces smirk.
The green of fields are replaced,
for the green greed of crispy notes.
No longer postcard pictures,
but sewers up turned towards the sky.
The faces are not happy, their scorn is waste and wild.
Another of natures landmarks, scared black every row.
For the sake of progress,
or at least they tell us so.
2 June 1981
poem by David Harris
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Women
Women behind bars, women in fast cars, women in distress, women with no dress
Women in airplanes, women who play games
Women in uniform, see that woman with her clothes gone
Women who satisfy, women you cant buy
Like women in magazines, and women in a limousine
Women who sip champagne, women who feel no pain
Women in a disco, and women who dont wanna know, no no
Oh, women wanting sympathy, women feeling extacy
Women who live in fantasies, bringing man to his knees
Women who boil to love, women who need a shove
Women who cant be beat, get that woman in the back seat, yeah yeah
Women in the usa, those women steal your heart away
Women into rock n roll, women who steal the show, go go go
Women that you write songs about, women that turn around and kick you out
Women you dream about all your life
Women that stab you in the back with a switchblade knife
Oh women, oohoo, talking bout women, all round the world
Yeah women, all the naughty girls, talking bout women, come on baby
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On a Line from Valéry (The Gulf War)
The whole green sky is dying.The last tree flares
With a great burst of supernatural rose
Under a canopy of poisonous airs.
Could we imagine our return to prayers
To end in time before time's final throes,
The green sky dying as the last tree flares?
But we were young in judgement, old in years
Who could make peace; but it was war we chose,
To spread its canopy of poisoning airs.
Not all our children's pleas and women's fears
Could steer us from this hell.And now God knows
His whole green sky is dying as it flares.
Our crops of wheat have turned to fields of tares.
This dreadful century staggers to its close
And the sky dies for us, its poisoned heirs.
All rain was dust.Its granules were our tears.
Throats burst as universal winter rose
To kill the whole green sky, the last tree bare
Beneath its canopy of poisoned air.
poem by Carolyn Kizer
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A new age for women
"A new age for women"
Ye who preach the sermon
"A new age for women has dawned"
Or perhaps fresh propaganda spawned
I'm sorry to say what I see
Is not the fruit of life's tree
No, this screaming on the corner
Torn and white
‘half price abortion for women's day"
Come to sell your soul
Only half price you'll pay
About the mission if the new age
Has come to the this
Your idea of what is meant to be
Is inches short of bliss
If Yeats and Eve both had apples
Can't Adam share with Maya a
Or at least with one of us
The women in your circle
The lady in the bus
Look around women bent low
But still painting their pride
No matter how you shame us
We'll take it in our stride!
Dirty Women
The neon lights are shining on me again
I walk the lonely streets in search of a friend
I need a lady to help me to get through the night
If I could find one then everything would be alright
The sleepy city is dreaming the nigh time away
Out on the street I watch tomorrow becoming today
I see a man,hes got take away women for sale
Yes for sale
Guess thats the answer
cos take away women dont fail...
Oh dirty women,they dont mess around
Oh dirty women,they dont mess around
Youve got me coming
Youve got me going around
Oh dirty women,
They dont mess around
Walking the streets I wonder will it ever happen
Gotta be good then everyting will be o.k.
If I could score tonight then I will end up happy
A woman for sale is gonna help me save my day...
song performed by by Black Sabbath
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soroptimist International
I have found friends, friends who care,
They live the whole world over.
Women who love life,
Women who are strong,
Women who help women,
Empower, empower, empower.
As a young woman, I needed
Help, encouragement and to be empowed.
I was struggling as a single mom
Working full time and oh so tired
With two children by the hand - when
The Soroptimist Training Award
Chosen, I was chosen, It was mine.
The next semester courses were paid for
With the help I received, no longer did I worry for
I completed my diploma and onward to my goal!
Working hard in social service agencies
Helping others as I could
Finally the day arrived when a Ph.D. was mine.
Thirteen years in private family counselling
Children grown and doing well
I returned to the place where it all started
To Soroptimists and I must tell -
The story of my award and the life it brought to me
Through kind and loving women
Who care when it seems there is no sign.
I am excited with each step
As I learn and go forward
Women teaching women and
Women helping women
It is my time to give
My time to empower women with
An organization I believe in.
To take on the challenges of life
Domestic violence and trafficking
So demoralizing to women and their children
Public education, important as it is
Educate all who will listen to the stats and stories told.
We all know of the hardships women endure
So, give, empower, teach, and train.
Women helping women-
Soroptimists, Soroptimists, Hurray for Soroptimists!
poem by Eva L. Shaw
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Giant Thunder
Giant Thunder, striking hard
I wonder if anyone's heard
Its not raining hard
But this Thunder is roaring louder
Women, children runing
Helter skelter
Not done yet? This roaring Thunder is shouting even louder
I fright at the sight
I want to join the women
Children running
Even the trees and wind have
Joined in this chaos
Women, children, men, even
Wind, trees running helter skelter
The Thunder never stops striking
And the Cloud, never stops crying.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Women's Liberation
Talk to me about the feminist movement,
the gubba middle class
hetero sexual revolution
way back in the seventies
when men wore tweed jackets with
leather elbows, and the women, well
I don’t remember or maybe I just don’t care
or can’t relate.
Now what were those white women on about?
What type of neurosis was fashionable back then?
So maybe I was only a school kid; and kids, like women,
have got on thing that joins that schemata,
like we’re not worth listening to,
and who wants to liberate women and children
what will happen in an egalitarian society
if the women and the kids start becoming complacent
in that they believe they should have rights
and economic independence,
and what would these middle class kids and white women do
with liberation, with freedom, with choices of
do I stay with my man, do I fall in love with other
white middle class women, and it wouldn’t matter if
my new woman had kids or maybe even kids and dogs
Yes I’m for the women’s movement
I want to be free and wear dunlop tennis shoes.
And indigenous women, well surely, the liberation
of white women includes all women regardless . . .
It doesn’t, well that’s not for me to deal with
I mean how could I, a white middle class woman,
who is deciding how can I budget when my man won’t
pay the school fees and the diner’s card club simply
won’t extend credit.
I don’t even know if I’m capable
of understanding
Aborigines, in Victoria?
Aboriginal women, here, I’ve never seen one,
and if I did, what would I say,
damned if I’m going to feel guilty, for wanting something
better for me, for women in general, not just white
middle class Volvo driving, part time women’s studies
students
Maybe I didn’t think, maybe I thought women in general
meant, Aboriginal women, the Koori women in Victoria
Should I apologise
should I feel guilty
Maybe the solution is to sponsor
a child through world vision.
Yes that’s probably best,
I feel like I could cope with that,
Look, I’d like to do something for our Aborigines
but I haven’t even met one,
and if I did I would say
all this business about land rights, maybe I’m a bit
scared, what’s it mean, that some day I’ll wake up
and there will be this flag, what is it, you know
red, black and that yellow circle, staked out front
and then what, Okay I’m sorry, I feel guilt
is that what I should be shouting
from the top of the rialto building
The women’s movement saved me
maybe the 90s will be different.
I’m not sure what I mean, but I know that although
it’s not just a women’s liberation that will free us
it’s a beginning
poem by Lisa Bellear
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Real life only happens in movies
Men becoming dogs
when confronted with women
Women playing games
With what’s left of the men
poem by Marc Hurkmans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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