Best Walk The Line Poems
I walk the line of a delicate being
careful to not make a misstep and fall
Though I am fragile, my strength underwrites me
and I am able to withstand it all
I can be nothing that I think I can’t be
so I decided that I can be me
And now I find that my life has true meaning
and life allows me to stand tall and free
Though I can not claim a profile in courage
I find a way to go on unafraid
Sometimes, I wonder when I’m feeling beaten
how I can do it, it’s just how I’m made
In my reflection, I like what I’m seeing
though it took time to erase many tears
I walk the line of a delicate being
yet one who’s lived and survived many years
If you think I need to be sitting
On my back porch wishing on a star
I’m not ready yet for that rocking chair
I’ll rock to the stereo in my car
I’m not ready yet for the second part
Of this long and hard journey
I won’t play follow the leader
The leader can follow me
I can’t dance to someone else’s tune
They can’t dance to mine
I’m not ready yet for the BINGO set
And I’ll never walk the line
I may be a little crazy but that’s okay
I’ll greet each day with a happy smile
I’m not ready yet for going home
I’m going to be here for a while
There’s a big bright beautiful world out there
And a lot more that I want to try
So I’m not ready yet for that rocking chair
I’m going to keep living until I die.
Lookin' back now to where I've been
I've walked beside the "infamous" to the bloody end
I seen the criminal commit the crime
I did my share and did my time
I led Satan's people straight to the gates of hell
I fed off the scum at the bottom of the well
Just to be awaken in reality's grip drenched in sweat
Yet I can't honestly say that I have a single regret
I made it from the depths of despair to what some may call the top of the world
I've been everything from the "low-life" to the lost girl
Yet I had to walk the line
Decide which path to leave behind
They say there is no hope for the one smokin' dope
I beg to disagree
What about me
In life it be not about what you've done
People care not where you're from
Can't live by what you once were
Can't hide behind fear of what may occur
Release the sorrow
Live like there is no tomorrow
Stand up for your destiny
It takes more than the truth to set you free
By some perchance, if I should meet
The child I was, upon the street,
Would she tarry for what I have to say
Or from this stranger run away?
So much of her I now recall
But she knows not of me at all.
Would she wonder why I shed this tear,
My little self of yesteryear?
Would she let me take her hand in mine,
To solve the maze and walk the line?
There is so much she could learn from me,
This litle child that I used to be.
I'd like to show her where to turn,
Teach her the lessons she needs to learn
Give her a map to find her way,
This little child of yesterday.
Or should I simply set her free?
The little child that I used to be.
By: Joyce
Antarctica (Ernest Shackleton tribute)
To your shores came as a pilgrim
Knowing that I wasn’t welcome
All I wanted was to walk
Across your land of ice and rock
But you trapped my ship in ice
Blew cold winds into my eyes
Wanted me to pay the price
Hardship’n’ pain did not suffice
I won’t give up! No, I won’t stop!
On the wings of faith and hope
Between sky and endless depth
I’ll walk the line of life and death
My chances aren’t of greatest height
To save the lives you tried to smite
You’ve gotta know I’m gonna fight
As it’s my duty and it's my right!
Play me a classic love song
like walk the line
hold onto me tightly
So that I know you are all mine.
Show me love,
like Do Little and Loretta Lynn
tell me you're story
and about the places you've been.
Say you will always love me
like Dolly Parton
know I will always stand by you
amongst the chaos, through and through
Don't let my blue eyes cry in the rain
like Willy Nelson
don't let me go, always stay with me
and eternal happiness we will share... I guarantee
By: Lady Constance
George talks about 'Them Cowgirls,"
While Willie's "Blue Eyes Are Crying In The Rain."
Tim talked about "Back Then"
And Bucky admits "It Was A Different Life."
Toby is a "Man Of His Convictions"
But Brad is "Better On Line."
Josh "Stopped Loving Her Today"
But Kenny said "She Can't Be Anything But Mine."
Does that mean one of them will have to "Walk The Line?"
Kenny says "Don't Blink"
Or you may find Tim is "Already Home."
"Tear Drops On My Guitar" has Taylor like Lambert
"Famous In A Small Town."
I arrived "Down In The Boon Docks"
Only to find Rodney was "Going Through Hell"
Rascal Flatts hit the "Long Broken Road"
Telling my Billy "You Are The Only World I Know"
Tracy Lawrence was talking to "The Keeper Of The Stars"
And Lee Greenwood was asking "God Bless The USA"
Toby Keith was bursting with pride as he said "I'm An American"
And John Michael Montgomery was busy sending "Letters From Home"
Darell Worley asks "Have You Forgotten?"
Toby Keith replies with "The Taliban Song."
"Yee Haw" hollered Jake Owens
While Steve Holy "Got A Brand New Girl Friend"
Direks says "Free And Easy Down The Road I Go."
While Tim and Faith were telling each other "I Need You."
Josh asks "Would You Go With Me"
As Dierks Bently agrees with me " Every Miles A Memory"
Kenny C. said "You Had Me From Hello"
But George prefers the "Beaches Of Old Mexico"
I saved this special song for the end.
Alabama's "Angels Among Us"
Every time I hear this song I break out in a cold sweat. Many years ago my
granddaughter Mariah in Casper, Wy was attending the summer camp, on
Casper Mountain, for her boys and girls group. This group included handicapped
children. Friday afternoon the children presented a program for the parents. It
was magnificent. The children helped the handicapped children get on and off of
the stage for their part in the program. The finally began with all of the children on
stage. They played Alabama's song "Angels Among Us" but the children all
preformed it in sign language. There was not a dry eye in the audience. A well
deserved ending to a successful summer camp.
God Bless, Cile
I've watched as they ride the lightning
If the punishment was just
I watched the innocent appeal their sentences
While behind bars of iron lined with rust
Many men I was in charge of
Underneath this hat of mine
My job though not pleasant
I've made the hardest criminals walk the line
I remember each and every one
As at night I lay and sleep
Haunted by the one's lead to their demise
Their deaths taunt and terrorize me
I am the last face that ever see
Before the executioner pushes the button
I'm the last voice that they hear
Praying their souls may go to Heaven
I am the lonely prison guard
Just sent to do my job
It's dirty and sometimes it's rough
I pray forgiveness from my God
To judge is not my place
That's why my soul it cries
But man sometimes does wrong
And the jury determines his fate
I would like to share the destruction of my life
How I sold all my dreams to a world of pain and strife
I hope some youngster reads it and can clearly see
That to walk down that path is no place to be
I believe it all started the day I watched my mother die
Devil crawled inside my mind and said, “Gods the reason why”
It made it easy for him to attract me to the high
To convince me that I was owed my slice of the pie
I fell into a way of life or so it would seem
By the age of fifteen I was cultivating green
At the age of sixteen I had quite a need
It was at that age I started slamming speed
There I was a junkie trapped in a boy’s shell
With no understanding my life had gone to hell
At the age of eighteen I wanted to live fatter
So I took a giant leap up the homeboy ladder
I got a girl in collage to get a professor hooked
He taught chemistry and he taught me to cook
At the age of eighteen I had reached my goal
Never even thinking I had destroyed my soul
I learned to live with the fear that I would get busted
And how to deal with people who could not be trusted
In my early twenties I started doing time
Like the song by Johnny Cash I learned to walk the line
Time is like a waterfall that forever pours
It just simply never ends there always is some more
As I watched it come and go time and time again
I realized that I was at home caged in a pen
I looked in the mirror and studied the lines in my face
And actually even said out loud "worlds a better place"
I had just stabbed a man left him on the floor
I honestly have no idea what it was all for
When it comes to regrets I have more than most
I not only have my skeletons I also have my ghost
Youngsters if you read this please help spread the news
Life is both good and bad it's up to you to choose
Can you see the miracle that is written in this rhyme?
The Lord will save any soul even one like mine
I reposted this poem to enter
the where I come from contest
Her logic binds with golden ties and strands of silken thought
her elocution sparkles, it's a skill she has been taught.
Her lies are better than the truth, a drug that dulls defenses,
And I give up my reason to explosions of the senses.
Why, oh why, has she decided she should be my muse?
A toy of easily molded clay detained for her abuse.
Her eyes are fire, hold her gaze, you do it at your peril.
it only takes a glance to see how wild she is, quite feral.
Deceit is taught in many forms and she deploys them all
walk the line, a slackened rope, and teeter 'fore the fall.
Why have I been cursed you ask, and I can hardly say.
The truth is that I wouldn't want it any other way.
Remembering America when clothesline displayed wash
The yesteryear clotheslines of our country have mostly gone
Gone with the same way of old fashioned outdated panache
Panache as when women dressed decent_men tipped hats agone
The yesteryear clotheslines of our country have mostly gone
Disappeared from view like Johnny Cash's song "I Walk The Line"
Panache as when women dressed decent_men tipped hats agone
Morals, good principles have been twisted like Kudzu Vine
Disappeared from view like Johnny Cash's song "I Walk The Line"
Gone with the same way of old fashioned outdated panache
Morals, good principles have been twisted like Kudzu Vine
Remembering America when clothesline displayed wash
Note
Pete Barnhill was befriended by the late great Johnny Cash.Both were around 13 years of age at the time.Pete learned Johnny his very first chords on the guitar.The rest is history......
PETE BARNHILL - MY TRIBUTE
Pete Barnhill was born with a withered right hand.
All his life he fought a crippling disease.
His old Gibson flat-top, could play a mean tune.
Incessant infiltration of the breeze.
As a polio child, he was teased at school.
Mass of metal worn on his right leg.
But a friend was made, back in those school days.
And a lesson we should never forget.
Pete taught Johnny
in a shotgun-shack
a tub-thumping rhythm like a train on a track
among the cotton-fields
in the Dyess land
where the folk were poor
and the dirt was manned
A bedrock for bedlam down that old dust road.
Playing Jimmie Rodgers tunes and the songs of Hank Snow.
That railroad rhythm, came from Pete's goldmine.
Hear that embryonic baselines now, on Walk The Line.
Kindness is a language, that the deaf can hear.
Kindness is a Language, that the blind can see.
When a gift is gone then another comes along.
Lessons learned from Johnny for you and me.
When a stranger calls
a star is born
within these walls
the shining
city lights
die hard
the searchers
don't look now
behind enemy lines
I walk the line
out of the past
roots
where the red fern grows
in cold blood
of mice and men
while you were sleeping
jaws
follow me quietly
home alone
where the sidewalk ends
forks over knives
shattered
where the heart is
frozen
dark eyes
guess who's coming to dinner
the day after tomorrow
the silence of the lambs
never cry wolf
in the heat of the night
my fair lady
dances with wolves
singin' in the rain
the illusionist
expelled
grease
cast away
what lies beneath
the notebook
can't buy me love
without leaving a forwarding address
back to the future
titanic
cries and whispers
tell them willie boy is here
from now to eternity
wild hearts can't be broken
before night falls
sense and sensibility
climb an angry mountain
to kill a mockingbird
we were soldiers
following
a beautiful mind
without a paddle
for love
the birds
take the lead
a river runs through it
one flew over the cuckoo's nest
when the cat's away
the mailman always rings twice
with a clean face
the empire strikes back
with a kodak
footsteps in the fog
paint your wagon
fifty shades of grey
for a little more money
great expectations
reign over me
boys don't cry
with your permission
save the last dance
for your eyes only
three men and a baby
cry for the strangers
gone with the wind
to have and have not
places in the heart
return to me
where or when
pride and prejudice
ran
to catch a thief
like water for chocolate
stolen kisses
smile
on the beach
it's a wonderful life.
He was a nice quiet gentle man
He had family friends wife and a daughter too
But Rayshard Brooks was also a black man
He was just waiting for a burger at Wendy's drive-through
He'd been for a drink and was tired that time of day
He fell asleep in his car
Wendy's called the police, there's a car in the driveway
They probably didn't need to go that far
The police came and woke Rayshard Brooks up from his dream
They made him walk the line, watch their finger move across his face
They talked to him for ages or so it seemed
They made him show he did not need a brace
He had passed a 20 minute sobriety test
But then they insisted on a breathalyzer too
He blew .108, and that set up the arrest
He would have been under if he had a burger and milk shake too
They went to handcuff him
Rayshard thought of George Floyd and his fate
And decided to resist, run and escape them
He was running away but it was all a bit too late
Although the cops had his name licence and car
And they could have picked him up later
Three shots were fired right at him, quite bizarre
With no warning shot for that matter
They shot him in the back twice
Lethal force was not warranted to defend
The charge should be murder with a price
Another murder most foul, so hard to apprehend
Another black man is shot dead
Laying in his blood where he bleed
After Rayshard Brooks had been killed
Protesters came to Wendy's from the up the hill
They set the place ablaze
In a fit of revenge and rage
Everyone has had enough of all of that stuff
And now is the time to get tough
Murder murder they cried
That black man did not need to die
Everyone is now marching in the streets
Nothing is going to stop these feet
NYC nior in black and white
NYC nior in black and white
Dark landscapes 1957 NYC
of automats radio city and hotdog stands
memories of things past
Take us back to lucid dreams of light and shadows cast
set the stage late night dark wet NY detectives on the beat
slow moving like grit and steel they stride down the great white way
steam and clouds shoot to the sky from sewer covers
smoke rings blast out from bill boards of urban midnight cowboys
from route 66
On the street hipsters glide down in pinstriped suits
cool sleek long with straddled watch chains dragging
smoking stogies from drooping lips
wing tipped shoes rested on black boxes at shoe shiners row at 53rd and lex
wanting fem defal’s dark diva’s in fish nets tight red skin dresses with sleek spike heels long cigarettes with long brim hats and netted veils as they walk the line swinging their Purses leaning against posts on the foggy corners
Dharma bums gaze at city lights dreaming of old bards songs
through garment push carts and rushing feet
in the machinery of the steamy night
the boxcars moving past open doors
The cities glare in shadows bare
neon signs striptease flashing in the backdrop of honking horns and traffic
night clubs casinos and one night stands in greasy motels
pool hall hustler’s poker players loan sharker's and scheamers
whisky bars dockyard and widowed screams
tenement houses windows open curtains drawn
sweat and muscle tee shirts yelling out to others
saxophone city of butchers boozers bribers and brown baggers
Bright yellow checkers and taxis on Times Square
down the smoke hazed dark lanes against the hard walls
slim Jim zoot suiter’s lazy dazed side leaning
roll loaded dice with steaming cheap Tricks
Newspaper stands and barbers shops with marbled checker floors
white steaming towels with waiting hot lather
man with straight edge and black leather strap leans over
with Sinatra playing in the back
Neon city balanced in chaotic disorder of abstract lines
of municipal signs
city where monk lady day and Coltrane play Improve
in old coffee houses of smoke filled cafes for pennies a day
as street poets whisper and drink their troubles away
dreaming of Brando bogie smoking Joe's and blondes
of slip hips and jive