A Child's Amaze
SILENT and amazed, even when a little boy,
I remember I heard the preacher every Sunday put God in his
statements,
As contending against some being or influence.
poem by Walt Whitman
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A Child's Amaze
amaze, cold amazement
those faces i saw as a child
those faces that can still trap
me between the lines of their
scowls with mere recollections
those cold cold faces that seemed
to have come out of er somewhere
a torture chamber? a lonely prison?
disappointment land?
i did not know hell, too young to know
wonder who first coined cold as hell
could hell be cold anyway?
well then i did not know
much about fridge either
in backward borneo 40 years back
the coldness of people's faces
racked the mind and dissettled
a budding heart mored used to
cajoles and warm embraces
i still see men with
cold cold faces, demeanor
hell, ice, fridge have become
overused, redundant words
to describe such poor souls
i picture them as homo sapiens
who carry an arctic with them
and wonder how they could make
friends and warm them up
cold cold people with cold cold faces
who could cut deeper to the bone
than ice and snow
inspired by
A Child's Amaze
SILENT and amazed, even when a little boy,
I remember I heard the preacher every Sunday put God in his
statements,
As contending against some being or influence.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Preacher Boy
Jeanne burns / billie holiday
He was lanky and tall as a beanpole
And he wind fanned my heart to a flame
As he looked to the sky
And theres no wonder why
For preacher boy was his name
With his old yaller dog there beside him
And his eyes throwin sparks in the sun
I grew faint from the heat
From my heart to my feet
When I knew preacher boy was the one
Then he didnt say much
Hes the silent kind
But his arms were strong
Just the same as his mind
And my knees grew weak
As I clung to him
My preacher boy, my preacher boy
But he heard the call
Now hes left me
For his faith was stronger than i
And thought we are apart
Yet hes still in my heart
My preacher boy, my preacher boy
My wonderful preacher boy
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
Lie Of All Lies
SOME YOUNG LADS SAT CHATTING MERRILY AND NOISILY WHEN A REVEREND PREACHER WALKED BY AND HE SAID TO THEM, WHAT BE THE CAUSE FOR THY NOISY CHATTER? HE ASKED AND THE CHILDREN REPLIED SAYING, PREACHER, WE HAVE PUT UP OUR SAVINGS FOR A WAGER! HE AMONGST US WHO TELLS THE GREATEST LIE WILL WIN THE WHOLE MONEY! THE PREACHER FROWNED AND SAID, LISTEN BOYS! IT IS NOT A GOOD THING TO TELL LIES! TAKE ME AS AN EXAMPLE! I HAVE NEVER TOLD A LIE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! STATED THE PREACHER! AND THE BOYS QUICKLY GOT UP, PACKED UP THE COINS ON THE FLOOR AND HANDED IT TO THE PREACHER SAYING, YOU WIN SIR! YOURS WAS THE BIGGEST LIE WE HAVE EVER HEARD!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Son Of A Preacher Man
(john hurley / ronnie wilkins)
Billy-ray was a preachers son
And when his daddy would visit hed come along
When they gathered round and started talkin
Thats when billy would take me walkin
A-through the back yard wed go walkin
Then hed look into my eyes
Lord knows to my surprise
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, mmm, yes he was
Being good isnt always easy
No matter how hard I try
When he started sweet-talkin to me
Hed come and tell me everything is all right
Hed kiss and tell me everything is all right
Can I get away again tonight?
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, lord knows he was
How well I remember
The look that was in his eyes
Stealin kisses from me on the sly
Takin time to make time
Tellin me that hes all mine
Learnin from each others knowing
Lookin to see how much weve grown
And the only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, oh, yes he was
He was the sweet-talking son of a preacher man
I guessed he was the son of a preacher man
Sweet-lovin son of a preacher man
Ahh, move me
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Remember You
I remember you
I remember me
I remember
I remember how things used to be
I remember every word that you said
I remember, how could I forget
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember you
I remember your old address
And I remember
How could I forget
I remember thinking how my luck changed
I remember being so amazed
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember you
I remember me
I remember
The way things used to be
I remember how it was that we met
I remember, I will never forget
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do you remember...because I do
I remember when you said I love you
I remember when I said yeah me too
I remember when you said love me
I remember when you carved our names in that old oak tree
I remember our first kiss
and I ignored the fact that you missed
I remember when you said together...always
I remember when I stood in front of you dazzled and amazed
I remember the sparkle in your eyes and
I remember the tears you made me cry
I remember when I could never be truly honest with you
I remember me packing, and you asking is there anything that I can do
I remember when I looked into your eyes and
I remember when we said our goodbyes
poem by Mariah Williams
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Remembering Sunday
when all of them
left for Sunday mass
do you still remember
what happens
behind that door that
you closed?
on your 15th wedding
anniversary
i still remember it
am here as guest
and my mind is silent
as curtain filtering the sun
from a window pane
this morning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chicken Every Sunday
Just because all my dresses are just cotton hand-me-downs
This family calls me the lower class
Cause we're only poor folks on the other side of town
They won't let him walk up my path
But my mama says don't worry when they say those things about ye
You remember you're just as good as him
Just because they got that big house settin' way upon the hill
Why you don't have to look up to them
We've got chicken every Sunday and the preacher comes around
And every Saturday morning daddy takes us all to town
And we'd go to the picture show or picnics on the ground
Oh that's the lower class and I'm glad that's what I am
[ guitar ]
Cause my mama don't belong to the ladies social set
My daddy can't afford the country club
His folks look down on me and they don't let us date
Cause they think that I'm not good enough
But my mama says forgive him honey he ain't worthy of
And in anything you're too good for him
Just because they've got money and a big fine house
Well we won't take no self off of them
We've got chicken every Sunday...
We've got chicken every Sunday...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Mountain Church House
There's a little mountain church in my thoughts of yesterday
Where friends and family gathered for the Lord
Where an ol' fashioned preacher taught the straight and narrow way
For what few coins the congregation could afford
Dressed in all our Sunday best, we sat on pews of solid oak
and I remember how our voices filled the air
How Mama sounded like an angel on those high soprano notes
and
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember the Ridiculous?
Remember the ridiculous?
When outrageous public statements made,
Were attributed to those considered nonconformists.
Or at least depicted as militant with violent wishes!
And were silenced quick wherever they dared to sit.
Remember the heights achieved by those self righteous?
The ones who quoted from scriptures and knew what sinning meant.
The ones who declared a separation of church and politics.
And spoke of family values and deplored decadence.
With hints they were chosen and others lived to be blasphemous!
Rewind these actions and tell me this...
Whose standards vowed are at a crisis now?
Who authorized the lives we live?
While standing by to watch...
Chaos rise to become prioritized as top notch!
With excuses to make and pointing fingers to give!
Remember the ridiculous?
When outrageous public statements made,
Were attributed to those considered nonconformists.
Or at least depicted as militant with violent wishes!
And were silenced quick wherever they dared to sit.
And those making the most noise today...
Protest loudly in disarray!
In groups to influence and convince in their dismay...
They represent the people who are of conservative ways.
Remember the ridiculous?
When terrorists were thought to ride camels...
And not be Ivy league graduates,
On shores who condoned and promoted this!
With only greed and the economy as the main interest.
Too bad the borders can not be secured,
By those who are staunch racists!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday The 13th Of November
A rum for a ram and a sheep fopr a ship,
Sunday the 13th of November to remember!
Like the male lambs of the first year when,
The blood started to flow.
One young bull and one male lamb,
One big ram and one male goat,
But one is destroyed out of the twins expected;
It come out as blood on Sunday the 13th of November.
Of a spanteneous reaction,
And this blood flow is the evidence;
But our faith will always lead us on,
Like life in the wilderness of Sinai.
Sunday the 13th of November,
Like the old blood in a clay pot;
Sunday the 13th of November,
Like the synchroneous act of sadness;
There we lost our appetite.
What is sweet is now soar,
What is joyful is now sadness,
Three days later with an accident;
Like the silent journey on one's mystries.
Sunday the 13th of November,
Like two loaves of bread baked with a romance;
But the silver trumpets should be sounded now!
For the blood flow had taken one of the twins away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Joseph And Mary's Boy
(Don Cook/Keith Whitley)
Out here is the country there's magic in the air.
It's the middle of December there's excitement eveywhere
Everyone's invited, the celebration's planned
The gift is just what's in your heart and not what's in your hand
Who's the one we need to thanks
Who's the party for
Who's the one responsible for all this peace and joy
Who deserves the credit for the blessings we enjoy
Preacher said last Sunday it was Joesph and Mary's boy
There were times we didn't think we'd make it through the year
The bankers tried to take our farms but somehow we're still here
I don't know how the crops survived the drought and then the rain
It must have been a miracle how else could you explain
Who's the one we need to thanks
Who's the party for
Who's the one responsible for all this peace and joy
Who deserves the credit for the blessings we enjoy
Preacher said last Sunday it was Joesph and Mary's boy
The Christ Child born in Bethlehem
He was Joesph and Mary's boy
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyday Is Like Sunday
[ morrissey ]
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is a coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armagedon - come armagedon come armagedon come
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on a promanade
Etch on a post card:
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town
That they forgot to bomb
Come, come nuclear bomb!
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
(and on your face)
Everyday is like sunday
Win yourself a cheap tray
Share some grease tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyday Is Like Sunday
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon - come armageddon!
Come, armageddon! come!
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard :
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town
...that they forgot to bomb
Come, come, come - nuclear bomb
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
(and on your face...)
(on your face ...)
(on your face ...)
(on your face ...)
Everyday is like sunday
Win yourself a cheap tray
Share some greased tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Talking to a Friend
oblique statements...
with silent heart
do you talk to me
or perhaps you are not willing to speak
my Friend
do you hide
words of friendship
your wounded pride
fascination...
with song
poetry
color
human being
oblique statements
perhaps silence
mysteries
read with the heart
and only before God
opened
the world arranges in a beautiful way
show a particle of it
do not conceal it
God
thank you for this talk
silence
it is
and shall remain
beautiful
silence
(transl. Annaya Chomczyk)
poem by Dorota Szumilas
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Blame It On The Love Of Rock & Roll
First time I heard the music
I thought it was my own
I could feel it in my heartbeat
I could feel it in my bones
My momma thinks I'm crazy
My dad says I'm insane
I got this boogie woogie fever
That's burning in my veins
They tried to take me to a doctor
But it's too late for me
Then they took me to a preacher
That they saw on their TV
Who said that for a small donation
My lost soul would be saved I said
I don't think so preacher
I'll come back another day
All I want
song performed by by Bon Jovi from Keep The Faith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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