Bread
bread we eat is soaked
in farmer's, floor mill worker's
and bake-man's sweat
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bread Hair
Im a wigged-out daddy with bread on top
I dig an easy-bake granny with a whiskey mop
If you love me, you neednt the whole wheat crop
cause they had a useless battle andll never stop
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Im a pumpernickel-do for you, dough you do
Use a yarmulka of hallah bread if youre a jew
I belong to cayope*, I be the wheat for you
Yeast and flour, bake an hour, its annoying shampoo
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Drivin all my hope away
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Thats a gone rug, buddy
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flesh And Bones, And Blood!
the family farmer,
the factory worker,
the construction worker,
the truckdriver...
the backbone of America!
these are the people
you've chosen to persecute,
to abuse, and throw away...
you've cut off your hands,
and started a revolution...
your fathers, your mothers,
hardworking, and honest.
the flesh and bones, and blood...
the heart and the soul...
what are you thinking now?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Am I? I Am! (Part Three)
who am i?
i dare speak again...
i am the migrant worker,
going from field to field,
none of which i own.
i am the addict gone straight,
the saint addicted to sin.
i am the child adopted
by women life partners,
loved and fulfilled,
and taught to respect.
i am protest, i am questioning,
i am doubt, i am reasoning.
i am the teacher, the mill worker,
the doctor, the dairy hand.
i am love and sweat,
the passion that trembles.
i am failure and forgiveness,
i am the crack in your mirror.
i am the end of wars,
the end of oil, and the shift.
i am hatred held close
till it breaks and shatters.
i am the preacher gone silent,
going from door to door.
i am the book well read,
and the end of ignorance.
i am equality,
in action not words.
i am a cold drink of water,
and a warm bowl of soup.
i am the shadows
you dare not name.
i am the name,
you dare not speak.
i am the body
of your desire...
i am the grave,
tended by crows....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Husband's Regret
she got pregnant only once
on the third month yet
they still made love on the
hard floor of the house
and the lights were on
to see their beautiful
bodies soaked with sweat
and she moaned and blood
flowed and what she got
was not an orgasm but
an abortion
she recovered in the hospital
after a papsmear
and he bought a puppy all
white to mark the beginning
of his regret
on that sad day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taxes On The Farmer Feeds Us All
(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
(d) - (a) - (e)
(a) we worked through spring and winter, through (d) summer and through (a) fall
But the mortgage worked the hardest and the (e) steadiest of us all
It (a) worked on nights and sundays, it (d) worked each holiday
(e) settled down among us and it never went (a) away
The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down
The farmer is the man who feeds us all
If you only look and see I know you will agree
That the farmer is the man who feeds us all
(a) the farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He buys on his credit until (e) fall
Then they (a) take him by the hand
And they (d) lead him from his land
And the (e) merchant is the man who gets it (a) all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He lives on his credit until fall
With the interest rates so high
Its a wonder he dont die
But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
Well, the banker says hes broke and the merchant stops and smoke
But they forget that its the farmer that feeds them all
It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest
And theyd know that its the farmer that feeds them all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
Lives on his credit until fall
Well, his pants are wearing thin
His condition, its a sin
cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God gives the wheat, He doesn't bake the bread.
We light the oven so that everyone may bake bread in it.
quote by Jose Marti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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United Front Song
And because a man is human
He'll want to eat, and thanks a lot
But talk can't take the place of meat
or fill an empty pot.
So left, two, three!
So left, two, three!
Comrade, there's a place for you.
Take your stand in the workers united front
For you are a worker too.
And because a man is human
he won't care for a kick in the face.
He doesn't want slaves under him
Or above him a ruling class.
So left, two, three!
So left, two, three!
Comrade, there's a place for you.
Take your stand in the workers united front
For you are a worker too.
And because a worker's a worker
No one else will bring him liberty.
It's nobody's work but the worker' own
To set the worker free.
So left, two, three!
So left, two, three!
Comrade, there's a place for you.
Take your stand in the workers united front
For you are a worker too.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Country Sweat
Sweat!
Sweat!
Sweat!
Born for trouble, poised for action
Ready to spring at a moment's notice
Nerves like a trigger, waiting to be pulled
Covered with sweat, it ain't nice
Sweat!
Help me please I'm burning up
I got this fire in my heart
Won't let me sleep, can't concentrate
Even when it's cold I'm dripping sweat
It ain't nice
Sweat!
Rivers running down my back
Makes me slippery, like a fish
If I don't stop, I might drown
Falling down, down, down, down, not dead yet
covered with
Sweat
CHORUS
The cool boys bit the dust
They couldn't take the pressure
The cool girls got knocked up
They only wanted to have fun
(Where did they go?)
They fell in low and suffered
(Where did they go?)
They picked up guns and hammers
(Where did they go?)
Without friction there's no heat
WIthout heat there's no fire
Without fire there's no desire
You're making me hot, hot, hot, hot!
Sweat! Sweat!
Take my baby, Saturday night
It's hundred and ten, it's alright
Close the door to my little room
Starting to sweat, fun starts soon
Sweat!
Principal caught me after school
Gave me hell, called me a fool
Pointed his finger, at my face
Started to sweat all over the place
Flowed like rivers, onto the floor
I can take it, give me some more
Sweat!
War breaks out throughout the land
Dodging bullets in the sand
Enemy's getting much to close
Sun beats down on the back of my neck
Fingers twitchin', covered with sweat
Covered with sweat
CHORUS
Sweat!
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money
A wad of dirty,
Green paper in the pocket,
Soaked in nervous sweat.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You do not build your own houses, nor make your own garments, nor bake your own bread, simply because you know that if you were to attempt all these things they would all be more or less ill done.
quote by Felix Adler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farmer's Daughter
I do come from miles away,
Ain't got no place to stay.
Glad to help you plow your fields,
Farmer's daughter.
Might be just a couple of days,
Clean up, rest, and be on my way.
Thank you, madam, much obliged,
Farmer's daughter.
So long, got to leave your land.
Many thanks, it was might grand.
I do hope to see you again,
Farmer's Daughter.
Farmer's Daughter.
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The worker must have bread, but she must have roses, too. Help, you women of privilege, give her the ballot to fight with.
quote by Rose Schneiderman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Farmer's Song
....and the farmer sing a song
a song of bountiful harvest.
His face covered with sweat
but he smiles as bright as the sun
and the farmer sing a song...
'Oh, gracious heaven
thank you for this day
thank you for this bountiful harvest.'
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweat
Sweat!
Sweat!
Sweat!
Born for trouble, poised for action
Ready to spring at a moments notice
Nerves like a trigger, waiting to be pulled
Covered with sweat, it aint nice
Sweat!
Help me please Im burning up
I got this fire in my heart
Wont let me sleep, cant concentrate
Even when its cold Im dripping sweat
It aint nice
Sweat!
Rivers running down my back
Makes me slippery, like a fish
If I dont stop, I might drown
Falling down, down, down, down, not dead yet
Covered with
Sweat
Chorus
The cool boys bit the dust
They couldnt take the pressure
The cool girls got knocked up
They only wanted to have fun
(where did they go? )
They fell in low and suffered
(where did they go? )
They picked up guns and hammers
(where did they go? )
Without friction theres no heat
Without heat theres no fire
Without fire theres no desire
Youre making me hot, hot, hot, hot!
Sweat! sweat!
Take my baby, saturday night
Its hundred and ten, its alright
Close the door to my little room
Starting to sweat, fun starts soon
Sweat!
Principal caught me after school
Gave me hell, called me a fool
Pointed his finger, at my face
Started to sweat all over the place
Flowed like rivers, onto the floor
I can take it, give me some more
Sweat!
War breaks out throughout the land
Dodging bullets in the sand
Enemys getting much to close
Sun beats down on the back of my neck
Fingers twitchin, covered with sweat
Covered with sweat
Chorus
Sweat!
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Your Life Off Pause
If you hesitate to bake it,
You or anyone will get to taste the cake.
Why is there a procrastination?
What is it you await to negotiate?
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless becomes the time wasted.
Take your life off pause,
Because you're seeking first to appease.
Take your life off pause,
Add to your life flavor.
Don't be afraid to dip into mystique.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless is the time you waste.
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Why negotiate?
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
There is no need to debate.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broremann The Farmhand
Broremann, the farmer worker.
Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Susquehanna
Its hard to bleed a man
Hard to bleed a man
When you know where hes falling to
Hard to bleed a wall
Hard to bleed a wall
When the bricks and the sand are you
.
And although we were very thirsty
I question the oasis
And although we were very lonely
I question the womans love
Question the gods above
.
Hard to bake the bread
Hard to bake the bread
When youre standing outside of the kitchen
Hard to join the dance
Hard to join the dance
When you know the song is poisoning everyone
When you know the song is poisoning everyone
.
When you know where hes falling
Question...
Yeah, you know where hes falling
Question...
The womans love, the gods above.
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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