A peck of March dust is worth a king's ransom.
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The Angry Crowd
Peck, peck, peck,
Judges all
A chorus of tuts
The stoniest of wall.
I told you so's
A squadron of guilt
Shaking of heads
Scorn to the hilt
Inside I hear nothing.
Just faces around
Fingers all pointing
Without any sound
For I am away
To hill's in the mist
To tallest of grasses
That dew slowly kissed
Warm summer's sun
The scent of the Earth
My world complete
Regardless of worth
So look on with anger
Crush me at will
Massage your conscience
.....I am here still.
poem by Dave James
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King Midas In Reverse
The Hollies
King Midas In Reverse
(Allan Clarke/Tony Hicks/but mainly Graham Nash)
Single release 1967
If you could only see me
I know exactly where I am
You wouldn't want to be me
Oh, I can assure you of that
I'm not the guy to run with
'Cos I'll throw you off the line
I'll break you and destroy you
Given time.
He's King Midas with a curse
He's King Midas in reverse
He's King Midas with a curse
He's King Midas in reverse
It's plain to see it's hopeless
Going on the way we are
So even though I'd lose you
You'd be better off by far
He's not the man to hold your trust
Everything he touches turns to dust
In his hands
Nothing he can do is right
He'd even like to sleep at night
But he can't.
{Interlude with 'all he touches turns to dust' 4x}
I wish someone would find me
And help me gain control
Before I lose my reason
And my soul
He's King Midas with a curse
He's King Midas in reverse
He's King Midas with a curse (all he touches turns to dust)
He's King Midas in reverse (all he touches turns to dust)
{fade out}
He's King Midas with a curse (all he touches turns to dust)
He's King Midas in reverse (all he touches turns to dust)
He's King Midas with a curse....
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mosquito March
when they march
when they march over fields of green
when they march
when they march over fields of green
when they march
when they march over fields of green
walking in the wilderness
no future to the question
you might get a simple answer
get a simple answer
walking in the wilderness
you're naked now just skin and sand
you'll get a smile answer
get a smile answer
see the king see the king of happiness
see the king
see the king of happiness in the light
in the light you can see him crawl
see the king
see the king of happiness
walking in the wilderness
no future to the question
you might get a simple answer
get a simple answer
walking in the wilderness the endless distance
you don't need to get a smile answer
get a smile answer
past the point of no return
your like a dog without a bone
so get a simple answer
get a simple answer
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's worth fighting for?
Soldiers march
march
march
march
march
wait ing for that first gunshot
waiting
waiting
waiting
waiti ng
whats wroth fighting for they wonder
whats there for me?
will you lead me away?
or leave me lying here?
yes i am a soldier now
but far away in the distance a voice calls
remember yourself and your life
your a soldier now fighting in a battle to be free once more
that's worth fighting for
poem by Marley Pullen
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New World Order
Broken down, feeling naked
Leaving me unfulfilled
Promising compromise
Championing mediocrity
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
I reveal a deceiver
In the highest seat in the land
His idle hands the Devil's workshop
Generate more smoke than heat
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
A new precedent in pain, a new precedent in pain
Mankind is blown to dust, mankind is blown to dust
An explosion of the Brain, an explosion of the
Brain
Spontaneously combust, spontaneously combust
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter: My Secret
I tell my secret? No indeed, not I:
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows,
And you're too curious: fie!
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.
Or, after all, perhaps there's none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,
But only just my fun.
Today's a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak, and other wraps:
I cannot ope to every one who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me,
Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe, but leave that truth untested still.
Spring's and expansive time: yet I don't trust
March with its peck of dust,
Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers,
Nor even May, whose flowers
One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.
Perhaps some languid summer day,
When drowsy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening to excess,
If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud,
And the warm wind is neither still nor loud,
Perhaps my secret I may say,
Or you may guess.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Albany: O Goneril, you are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face.
line from King Lear by William Shakespeare (1606)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Nocturne (In Times Gone By)
Outside, the night sucks street lamps like orange lozenges
And the moon creeps slowly over rooftops.
Magic permeates the air.
Was there ever a time
When iron frogs were worth a King's ransom
And little elves wept by the desolate bus-stops?
A lonely policeman cycles away
And grieves for the passing of childhood,
While a poet loiters in the churchyard, drinking a can of beer.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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March
Were I young again
and the month of March
were upon me
I'd skip down the road,
do a march to March,
sing a tune to March
dance a dance to March,
risk a prance to March,
strut and grind and do
a break dance to March.
Hop, skip and jump to March,
just like a the girl I used to be,
once upon a time in March,
when my cheeks had high colour
and my hopes were high.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Worth Fighting For
You said I could never find, a way to ease your mind
But where I go you wind up in the dust
I tried so hard to have you reach another side of me
Instead you werent to nowhere and forgot
So I wonder on
Asking where you might have gone
But what I knew before
Some things are worth fighting for
Diserty can wear you down, but still Im rollin through
Did I see your figure in the haze?
I am driven by your thirst, to quench myself of love
The sun beats on me for the price I pay
So I wonder on
Asking where you might have gone
From what I knew before
Some things are worth fighting for,
Yeah
Night rode leads me to a town of dust
Beckon by the gloss, of jealousy, and tumble weed
There calling out
Forever more
Worth fighting for
Im leading in the wind
Head bowed down from what I saw
My shadow far a friend
Theres something that worth fighting for
So Im moving on
Asking where you might have gone
From what I knew before
Some things are worth fighting for
Worth fighting for
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Death Of Mr. James Van Otton
The first day of this month the last hath bin
To that deare soule. March never did come in
So lyonlike as now: our lives are made
As fickle as the weather or the shade.
March dust growes plenty now, while wasting fate
Strike heare to dust, well worth the proverbs rate.
I could be angry with the fates that they
This man of men so soone have stole away.
Meane they a kingdome to undoe, or make
The universe a Cripple while they take
From us so cheife a part, whose art knew how
To make a man a man, nor would allow
Nature an Heteroclite still to remaine
Irregular, but with a jugling paine
Deceive men of their greife, and make them know
That he could cure more than ere chance or foe
Dare to instring. Death now growes politique:
While Otton liv'd herselfe was weake and sicke
For want of food, therefore at him she aimde
Who bar'd her of her purpose. All is maimde,
All's out of joint, for in this fatall crosse
Behold Death's triumph and our fatall losse.
poem by William Strode
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You March On
You, unknown traveller of untreaded path
march on, march on, march on
will reach your destination
one day
though far off
march on, march on, march on.
Look back, never, even by mistake
forget, never, the hardships you bore
guide, will be your past deeds of life,
full of pangs on the bed of stake
What holds destiny?
Not to worry?
............Just march on, march on, march on.
Adversities make you a fast learner
Desires are snakes, so be a shirker
search the deep sea to find a pearl
get to the shore, while facing the whirl
Think never to be feeble & meek
deliver everyone from the misdeeds
while truth you seek
clear all hurdles regaining your strength
you will reach the destination
march on...march on....march on.
Carve out your name on the horizon
as your stars are on the ascendant
work towards the goal night and day
be illuminated in such a way
sluggish should appear the milky way
You, unknown traveller of untreaded path
march on, march on, march on
will reach your destination
one day
though far off
march on, march on, march on.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Kill The King
Broken down, feeling naked
Leaving me unfulfilled
Promising compromise
Championing mediocrity
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King,
I am the King, God save the King
I reveal a deceiver
In the highest seat in the land
His idle hands the Devil's workshop
Generate more smoke than heat
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
A new precedent in pain, a new precedent in pain
Mankind is blown to dust, mankind is blown to dust
An explosion of the Brain, an explosion of the Brain
Spontaneously combust, spontaneously combust
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King,
I am the King
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Something about her eyes or voice has always suggested the hint of a free spirit, trapped in a Peck and Peck cage, dreaming of making rude noises at public gatherings of Republicans.
quote by Jeff Greenfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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March On Comrades, March On
Yonder in the East, our comrades are shouting,
Yonder in the East, our comrades are fighting,
Yonder in the East, our fate they are carving,
March on comrades, march on.
From the East, slogan is echoing,
Scrap automation, allow us due living,
It is bare minimum, is it much asking?
March on comrades, march on.
Make haste comrades, lest we be late,
The fight may be over and seal our fate,
Spurn the enemy with due hate,
March on comrades, march on.
The posterity will curse us if we linger,
Firmly in unison let us march thither,
Smother all those who our progress hinder,
March on comrades, march on.
Let us herald The New Era in,
Whence no one shall trade in empty sermons,
When khadi capped traders shall be banished,
When doing and not talking shall be the criterion,
March on comrades, march on.
What if we perish in the process,
We shall have lived with a purpose,
We shall have met an honoured death,
Our goal so humble, our cause is just;
March on comrades, march on.
What Are We?
WHAT ARE WE?
What are we?
Dust of the earth
Dust of the stars
Thinking dust
Dreaming dust
Loving dust
Dust of Dust
God’s Dust
What are we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Onward
Don't we all wonder, remotely
- in ways we cannot even fully understand -
'What's this all about? '
Age has invaded our mind
and hearts.
Onward we march.
Life has invaded our spirits
and souls.
As onward we march.
The future flows right on past
behind us.
And yet onward we march.
Living is a passing glance
a long goodbye.
Onward we march.
Where we are bound
no eye has seen
no tongue can tell
no mind does fathom.
Still onward we march.
On the trail of time lost
we take the exit to eternity.
Ever onward we march.
Do we wonder
what a wonder it is
that we're marching into?
We should.
We shall.
We are.
Through it all, onward we march.
Onward...
poem by Smoky Hoss
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True To The Game
I needed to know what’s on your mind
Willing to wager your eager to sign
The pressure is mounting
The numbers are grand
Sensing reluctance
To stick to the plan
Eager to see if the armor is steel
If your true to the code
If your gangster is real
Your anxious and nervous
Ready to turn
Reaching for lifelines
With selfish concerns
Willing to trade a king’s ransom
You start naming names
Hiding in solitude
To diminish the pain
I needed to confirm your intensions to deal
A walking cadaver persuaded to squeal
The pressure is mounting
Tensions are high
Sensing reluctance
I sanction the plan
Eager to see if the armor was steel
True to the code
Our gangster was real
Anxious and nervous
Ready to turn
Begging for lifelines
With selfish concerns
I received a king’s ransom
For turning away
Dying in solitude
He called out my name
The D.A. endeavored to intimidate
Attempting to menace another inmate
Applying strong pressure
With numbers so grand
I suffer mistreatment
And stick to the plan
Eager to see if my armor was steel
True to the code
My gangster was real
Cool, calm, and collected
With no selfish concerns
Gave them my finger
And welcomed my turn
Tucking away a King’s ransom
To never name names
I find solace and comfort with the undeniable fact
That I was true to the game
poem by Mustafa Marconi
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The Daughter Of A King
You are the daughter of a king.
Trapped in a stately tower, to the world you sing.
You have power and authority,
My precious majesty.
You are the daughter of the king of all Kings,
A King who created the heavens and the earth,
And all that shall remain in its worth.
poem by Preston Simmons
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