Plowmen
A plow, they say, to plow the snow.
They cannot mean to plant it, no --
Unless in bitterness to mock
At having cultivated rock.
poem by Robert Frost
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The Plow
Outside my window the snow is white,
a winter mist I see so bright.
I hear through chrystals snow on snow,
a distant engine of a plow.
The chrystals falling from the sky,
in a way which I can’t tell you why
On the ground there is heavy snow
the plow is getting nearer now
The window sticks just like a stamp
against my fingers, cold and damp.
I see the sight of untouched snow,
I see the fountain of the plow.
The plow went by ten minutes ago
back is now a usable road
I hear through chrystals, snow on snow;
the distant engine of the plow
poem by Espen Øye Bjørkvold
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Gospel Plow
Mary wore three links of chain,
Every link was jesus name,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Mary, mark and luke and john,
All them prophets so good and gone,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Well I never been to heaven, but Ive been told,
Streets up there are lined with gold,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, lord, oh, lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain On A Scarecrow
Scarecrow on a wooden cross Blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did My grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans
Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed
Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land
He said John it's just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol' hoss sure don't make it right
But if you want me to I'll say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandma's on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing "Take me to the Promised Land"
When you take away a man's dignity he can't work his fields and cows
There'll be blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin' Like that scarecrow in the rain
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain On The Scarecrow
Scarecrow on a wooden cross blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did my grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Chorus:
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me proud
And son Im just sorry theres no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer werent enough to pay the loans
Couldnt buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosed
Called my old friend schepman up to auction off the land
He said john its just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol hoss sure dont make it right
But if you want me to Ill say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandmas on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing take me to the promised land
When you take away a mans dignity he cant work his fields and cows
Therell be blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Well theres ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin like that scarecrow in the rain
Chorus:
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me proud
And son Im just sorry theyre just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This land fed a nation this land made me so proud
And son Im just sorry theyre just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plowman's Song
Turn under, plow,
My trouble;
Turn under griefs
And stubble.
Turn mouse's nest,
Gnawing years;
Old roots up
For new love's tears.
Turn, plow, the clods
For new thunder.
Turn under, plow,
Turn under.
poem by Raymond Knister
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The Plow Of My Papa
today is the last day to sell the plow of my papa
it is a necessary part of his lifetime
in fact
his lifetime is the plow itself that made the lines
of his own poetry in the fields
of rice and corn
today another man shall have it
at the price we all wanted
we have sold all that he had
the land, the house, the trees he planted
when he was still alive
when he was still strong and cruel and so imposing
this is his only plow
and we have dedided to dispose it finally
to any man
we are now at the stage of reconstructing our lives
and the plow of papa must go
we shall have our own fields now of rice and corn
on a white canvass we draw
the new sun, its color shall be warm, something new really
to the feel of our skins
the darker ones shall be replaced by the flowing color
of the clouds like feathers of birds always ready to fly away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pick Up The Plow!
put down your sword,
pick up the plow!
a new day has come,
a new world before us!
in the beginning again,
we are the first hope.
pick up the plow,
till the earth...
our home and our hope!
a new day, a new way,
we work side by side..
beneath the sun, in the rain...
and we make love all night!
time is for the taker,
and now is the time...
put down your sword,
pick up the plow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It's life isn't it? You plow ahead and make a hit. And you plow on and someone passes you. Then someone passes them. Time levels.
quote by Katharine Hepburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straw, Or Sky?
is a sparrow's nest
made of straw,
or made of sky?
do we come from the womb?
or return to it?
do we plow the earth?
or does it plow us?
where will we be at harvest?
do we spend all of our lives
trying to go back
to what we knew as a child?
are we then mouth,
nipple,
or the lonely phallus
of a forgotten god?
the empty hand,
or the sound of wings...
testify!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Truth And Justice.... (Part Two)
do i advocate violent overthrow of
the government? .... no!
but i do not advocate the abuse of
the individual either.
we need to arm ourselves with the
weapons of peace, reason, and understanding...
we need to see things as they are!
and we need to reach down deep inside,
and pull out the fortitude to stand...
for a freedom that is equal in all ways.
we need to take our anger at hunger,
homelessness and joblessness...
and turn it into a plow...
we need to plow the fields of parity!
whether we do it the right way,
or the wrong way....
something will be done!
the load has become too much,
and the stink too foul!
we will change!
be a part of it...
or be overcome by it!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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We Cannot Cease (World Peace)
world peace,
we cannot cease...
miles mean nothing,
as long as, ....
doors open, eyes open,
hands and hearts
ready for the plow...
fallow ground, sacred again,
for the hopes of our children....
speak not of God
if you cant speak human!
world peace....
we cannot stop!
hands to the plow,
hearts on fire!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tired Light
The distance is enormous
The universe is vast
I am the light
I travel fast.
The cosmos is monstrous
I am tired now
But space is boundless
I continue to plow.
Space is tremendous
My energy is lost
Between galaxies
In darkness and frost.
The universe enormous
I am tired now
But space is boundless
I continue to plow.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Rock Me On The Water
Oh people, look around you
The signs are everywhere
Youve left it for somebody other than you
To be the one to care
Youre lost inside your houses
Theres no time to find you now
Your walls are burning and your towers are turning
Im going to leave you here and try to get down to the sea somehow
The road is filled with homeless souls
Every woman, child and man
Who have no idea where they will go
But theyll help you if they can
Now everyone must have some thought
Thats going to pull them through somehow
Well the fires are raging hotter and hotter
But the sisters of the sun are going to rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Ill get down to the sea somehow
Oh people, look among you
Its there your hope must lie
Theres a sea bird above you
Gliding in one place like jesus in the sky
We all must do the best we can
And then hang on to that gospel plow
When my life is over, Im going to stand before the father
But the sisters of the sun are going to rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water, maybe Ill remember
Maybe Ill remember how
Rock me on the water
The wind is with me now
So rock me on the water
Ill get down to the sea somehow
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don’t Look Back
Don’t Look Back, but just ahead, when by The Shepherd we are lead,
Once our hands are on that plow, let the Lord fill your heart with wow,
Looking towards what God will do, as the past He’s seen us through,
So do not allow your faith to lack, when in your heart, you look back.
When tempted to look back instead, we’ll be simply filled with dread,
Not looking to the One in control, we shall waver and sometimes fall.
God may be working in those we know, to help them and us to grow,
As we journey on unplowed ground, only in God is true peace found.
We must plow ahead in faith and trust, as God above leads all of us,
And when we do face a setback, Christ, provides that peace we lack.
We can't turn to the left or right, but, rely on God’s Power and Might,
To deliver us from the darkest place, through the power of His Grace.
In faith, we can all move forward, with our eyes focused on our Lord,
Not upon anybody or anything, but, steadfastly upon Christ our King,
Who presently reigns in our heart, and from our lives He won’t depart,
As He guides us straight and true, in any situation all the way through.
We could plow through any fire, when God’s Will becomes our desire,
Coming through them truly purified, with Christ our Savior by our side,
And as Believers, being Spirit lead, we’ll move for Him straight ahead,
While on our way to Heaven above, strengthened truly by God’s Love.
(Copyright ©02/2009)
Hand To The Plow,2011
sitting outside this morning,
watching it rain.... gathering,
gathering strength from i
know not where...
seems like we're not making
any headway... teetering on
the edge of survival...
this year especially tough...
get it up, get it on...
put your hand to the plow!
all around us people,
all different knids of people,
but people... are struggling,
are in need, are in want....
we are a disjointed family,
watching each other sink!
we have got to become aware,
to break down the walls of division...
the only way out is together...
what we have we have to share!
but there can be no more 'me'
and 'i'... no more self oriented
delusions... we cannot follow greed.
we have to turn our weapons
of destruction into shovels and hoes.
we have to join hands, and do it now.
if you're hungry, i'm hungry!
if you're homeless, i'm homeless!
no more apathy, no more doing nothing!
put your hands to the plow! ....
or get out of the way!
life demands hard working involvement!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Joys of Prairie Farmers
We let Ontario farmers sing
About the joys the woods do bring,
But we, in regions of North-West
Do think prairie farms the best,
For those poor men who swing the axe
On their strength 'tis a heavy tax ;
For several years they naught can grow,
While from the first we plow and sow,
And while we plow we dont get thumps
By running it against the stumps ;
And where wild buffalo now doth feed
There very soon we'll sow the seed ;
Where Indian wigwams now do stand
Will be the site of cities grand,
And where the deer and wolf doth roam
Millions will build each happy home,
So quick as if by magic wand
They will arise o'er the whole land ;
But this one fact we wont deny
Ontario, she can supply,
For so skilfully she doth invent
Each agricultural implement.
poem by James McIntyre
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Rock Me On The Water
Oh people
Look around you
The signs are everywhere
Youve left it for somebody other than you
To be the one to care
Youre lost inside your houses
And theres no time to find you now
Well your walls are turning
Your towers are burning
Gonna leave you here
And try to get down to the sea somehow
The road is filled with homeless souls
Every woman child and man
Who have no idea where they will go
But theyll help you if they can
But everyone must have some thought
Thats gonna pull them through somehow
While the fires are raging hotter and hotter
The sisters of the sun are gonna
Rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Ill get down the sea somehow
Oh people
Look among you
Its there your hope must lie
Theres a seabird above you
Gliding in one place
Like jesus in the sky
We all must do the best we can
And then hang on the that gospel plow
When my life is over
Gonna stand before the father
And the sisters of the sun are gonna
Rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Maybe Ill remember
Maybe Ill remember how
Rock me on the water
I said the wind is with me now
So rock me on the water
Ill get down the sea somehow
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Ill get down the sea somehow
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sir Barnaby Bampton Boo
This is SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Last of a noble race,
BARNABY BAMPTON, coming to woo,
All at a deuce of a pace.
BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Here is a health to you:
Here is wishing you luck, you elderly buck -
BARNABY BAMPTON BOO!
The excellent women of Tuptonvee
Knew SIR BARNABY BOO;
One of them surely his bride would be,
But dickens a soul knew who.
Women of Tuptonvee,
Here is a health to ye
For a Baronet, dears, you would cut off your ears,
Women of Tuptonvee!
Here are old MR. and MRS. DE PLOW
(PETER his Christian name),
They kept seven oxen, a pig, and a cow -
Farming it was their game.
Worthy old PETER DE PLOW,
Here is a health to thou:
Your race isn't run, though you're seventy-one,
Worthy old PETER DE PLOW!
To excellent MR. and MRS. DE PLOW
Came SIR BARNABY BOO,
He asked for their daughter, and told 'em as how
He was as rich as a Jew.
BARNABY BAMPTON'S wealth,
Here is your jolly good health:
I'd never repine if you came to be mine,
BARNABY BAMPTON'S wealth!
"O great SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO"
(Said PLOW to that titled swell),
"My missus has given me daughters two -
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL!"
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL,
I hope you're uncommonly well:
You two pretty pearls - you extremely nice girls -
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL!
"AMELIA is passable only, in face,
But, oh! she's a worthy girl;
Superior morals like hers would grace
The home of a belted Earl."
Morality, heavenly link!
To you I'll eternally drink:
I'm awfully fond of that heavenly bond,
Morality, heavenly link!
"Now NELLY'S the prettier, p'raps, of my gals,
But, oh! she's a wayward chit;
She dresses herself in her showy fal-lals,
And doesn't read TUPPER a bit!"
O TUPPER, philosopher true,
How do you happen to do?
A publisher looks with respect on your books,
For they DO sell, philosopher true!
The Bart. (I'll be hanged if I drink him again,
Or care if he's ill or well),
He sneered at the goodness of MILLY THE PLAIN,
And cottoned to VOLATILE NELL!
O VOLATILE NELLY DE P.!
Be hanged if I'll empty to thee:
I like worthy maids, not mere frivolous jades,
VOLATILE NELLY DE P.!
They bolted, the Bart. and his frivolous dear,
And MILLY was left to pout;
For years they've got on very well, as I hear,
But soon he will rue it, no doubt.
O excellent MILLY DE PLOW,
I really can't drink to you now;
My head isn't strong, and the song has been long,
Excellent MILLY DE PLOW!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Falling in snow on a frosty Evening
I’ve fallen and I bruised my rump.
I was out shoveling near the stump.
I was trying to get the driveway free.
A plow had just come by, you see.
I had a shovelful to toss
When suddenly, my footing lost,
I was sailing in the air
destined for the snow pile there.
I have bruises on both knees
My ribs are sore, it hurts to sneeze.
I think I should have stayed inside
And worst of all -It hurt my pride.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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For every one with a plow ? there're seven with a spoon.