Forget brotherhood, each goat will cost your seven dinars.
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 13
A man used to shout superfluous calls to prayers in the mosque of Sinjar and in a voice which displeased all who heard it. The owner of the mosque, who was a just and virtuous amir, not desirous to give him pain, said: ‘My good fellow, in this mosque there are old muezzins’ to each of whom I pay five dinars monthly but to thee I shall give ten, if thou wilt go to another place.’ The man agreed and went away. Some time afterwards however, he returned to the amir and said: ‘My lord, thou hast injured me by turning me away for ten dinars from this place because where I next went they offered me twenty dinars to go to another locality but I refused.’ The amir smiled and said: ‘By no means accept them because will give thee even fifty dinars.’
No one can scrape the mud from gravel with an axe
As thy discordant shouting scrapes the heart.
Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 32
Having become tired of my friends in Damascus, I went into the desert of Jerusalem and associated with animals till the time when I became a prisoner of the Franks, who put me to work with infidels in digging the earth of a moat in Tarapolis, when one of the chiefs of Aleppo, with whom I had formerly been acquainted, recognized me and said: ‘What state is this?’ I recited:
‘I fled from men to mountain and desert
Wishing to attend upon no one but God.
Imagine what my state at present is
When I must be satisfied in a stable of wretches.
The feet in chains with friends
Is better than to be with strangers in a garden.’
He took pity on my state and ransomed me for ten dinars from the captivity of the Franks, taking me to Aleppo where he had a daughter and married me to her with a dowry of one hundred dinars. After some time had elapsed, she turned out to be ill-humoured, quarrelsome, disobedient, abusive in her tongue and embittering my life:
A bad wife in a good man’s house
Is his hell in this world already.
Alas for a bad consort, alas!
Preserve us, O Lord from the punishment of fire.
Once she lengthened her tongue of reproach and said: ‘Art thou not the man whom my father purchased from the Franks for ten dinars?’ I replied: ‘Yes, he bought me for ten dinars and sold me into thy hands for one hundred dinars.’
I heard that a sheep had by a great man
Been rescued from the jaws and the power of a wolf.
In the evening he stroked her throat with a knife
Whereon the soul of the sheep complained thus:
'Thou hast snatched me away from the claws of a wolf,
But at last I see thou art thyself a wolf.’
Brotherhood
Brotherhood...
All around - sweet brotherhood
No more us and them -
Oneness
No more politics or denominations
Brotherhood
No more war, violence, or pain
Compassion
In brotherhood, well find
Joy..............dynamism
Sweetness......softness
Soulfulness....dignity
Tranquility.....serenity
Harmony.......perfection
Harmony.......perfection
One mind!
One truth!
One life!
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street.
Holiday meals
Here's a poem that will get your goat
But my goat ate my poem.
I'll get him for that
He ate all that i wrote.
I wrote such wounderous words
And all he does is burp
It's absurd.
Now all I can do
Is not let him get my goat
The words that I wrote
Were hastey and few
The goat that I had made such a great stew.
If I Ever Forget You
If i ever forget you,
the sun would forget
to shine nor the moon
at night.
If i ever forget you,
ants would forget to gather
food and the fish would
forget how to swim.
If i ever forget you,
the river would forget the
sea and the sunflower would
forget to gaze at the sun.
If i ever forget you,
babies would forget how
to crawl and cock would
forget how to crow.
If i ever forget you,
farmers would forget there
path and humans would forget
there name.
If i ever forget you,
the tree would forget to
bear fruit and demons would
forget to do evil.
If i ever forget you.
i will never forget you.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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The Brotherhood Of Man
How few have asked and understood!
'Who needs a helping hand? '
I pray you'll help the brotherhood,
The Brotherhood of Man...
What use is wisdom without love
Or skills left on the shelf?
Lift up your hearts to God above
And live not for yourself...
Instead, move on! Leave your cocoon!
Ask 'How? ' instead of 'Why? '
Release the beauty and you'll soon
Become a butterfly!
Man's apathy increases strife!
Each man should do his best!
The good works that we do in life
Go in God's treasure chest!
Through our examples, others learn
And train as volunteers...
Then with God's people they'll discern
The purpose of their years...
Let's see if you have understood!
'Who needs a helping hand? '
I pray you'll help the brotherhood,
The Brotherhood of Man...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Goat Hill
Goat Hill
Walking out the door that man told me to go to hell
My son asked mommy where’s Goat Hill
I said I don’t know son it must be through the valley
My son said mommy lets go there
Up to goat hill
I bet it’s on top of the mountain
I bet there is waterfalls, birds, trees, pretty flowers for all the butterflies and honey bees
I said son if we could I’m sure we would
Most definitely go up to goat hill
I’m not ever going to take you where that man said to go
That place is an internal melting pot
And its way to hot
There’s no mountains with snow on top
No waterfalls trees birds butterflies or honey bees in the place that man said to go
Son I know you are good
Some day together I believe we will find the place called Goat Hill
You found somewhere in your mind
Where life is gentle and Kind
Everyday and every night all the time
Son I bet up on Goat Hill we will only see Gods will being done by the Father and the Son
poem by E.Marie AldrichCreasy
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Long Ago, Far Away
by Bob Dylan
To preach of peace and brotherhood,
Oh, what might be the cost!
A man he did it long ago
And they hung him on a cross.
Long ago, far away;
These things don't happen
No more, nowadays.
The chains of slaves
They dragged the ground
With heads and hearts hung low.
But it was during Lincoln's time
And it was long ago.
Long ago, far away;
Things like that don't happen
No more, nowadays.
The war guns they went off wild,
The whole world bled its blood.
Men's bodies floated on the edge
Of oceans made of mud.
Long ago, far away;
Those kind of things don't happen
No more, nowadays.
One man had much money,
One man had not enough to eat,
One man lived just like a king,
The other man begged on the street.
Long ago, far away;
These things don't happen
No more, nowadays.
One man died of a knife so sharp,
One man died from the bullet of a gun,
One man died of a broken heart
To see the lynchin' of his son.
Long ago, far away;
Things like that don't happen
No more, nowadays.
Gladiators killed themselves,
It was during the Roman times.
People cheered with bloodshot grins
As eye and minds went blind.
Long ago, far away;
Things like that don't happen
No more, nowadays.
And to talk of peace and brotherhood,
Oh, what might be the cost!
A man he did it long ago
And they hung him on a cross.
Long ago, far away;
Things like that don't happen
No more, nowadays, do they?
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Is Never Free
They tell me
'Freedom is never free.'
I know that-
More than most realize.
Freedom cost us more
Than we should have to give.
Freedom cost us blood.
It cost us the lives
Of our fathers,
Our sons,
Our brothers.
But while freedom is never free,
Remember-
It has been bought at great price,
And so is a thing of great value.
We must defend it,
From those who would take it away.
The defense of our freedoms
Will cost us-
More than we wish to pay.
But we must pay, to defend,
For if we try to make freedom free,
We forget-
True freedom is never free.
poem by James Grengs
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Goat
Lots of goat for dinner
Is all had on a skewer,
My kingdom has survived,
The lids of your eyes
Are lifted and they see
The meat of the kings
In consumption.
Force the goat to be eaten
By converting the king
To your crevice.
Food has might,
Food is the whim of our land.
We ghosts are relaxed tonight,
From the worry of the horror,
Frightened again by the double,
Load the goat into the pot and eat.
poem by Naveed Akram
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What for? If only the goat can tell.
O! The silly goat could have been a dove
White and meek
Soundless in the journey to air
Dove to another dove
Satisfied from among its likes
The horns could have been feathers
In a bird’s body
Another completing dove could have waited
Only if the silly goat knew
The transfiguration of its feet to claw
Its whiskers to beak
The goat’s life would have been complete
And fulfilled
But this the silly goat will never know
& learn and untie
& solve the crazy knot
That it has never untangled
Never has he learned from all the ages
Of his grass life
The seeds that the dove peck
And keep on its throat down to its guts
Its tummy
The goat stays
In the open field
Preoccupied with grass
And grass alone
Abiding by the rules of his master
Imprisoned in its cage
To the rules of their games
Suffering
But never understands the same
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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THE COST...by Talile Ali
V1
ALWAYS AVOIDED FAME
AFRAID TO PAY THE COST
LOSS OF FAMILY
FRIEND'S WHO ALL ARE LOST
THERE IS NO DENYING
THE NEED TO SERVE IS STRONG
THE COST OF SERVICE EXPENSIVE
THAT'S NOT TO SAY IT'S WRONG
CHORUS
BUT IT'S THE COST
IT'S THE COST
GOTTA PAY THE PIPER
OR ELSE YOU'LL BE TOSSED
IT'S THE COST
V2
LOVE IS PLAIN AND SIMPLE
HEART IS STRONG AND TRUE
EPIPHANIES ARE FLOWING
WANT TO SHARE WITH YOU
SO I WRITE AND PERFORM
AND YOU SEE MY NEED
TO DO THIS HERE SERVICE
FOR EVERYONE'S THAT'S PLEASED
JAM FOR 24 BARS
CHORUS
BUT IT'S THE COST
IT'S THE COST
GOTTA PAY THE PIPER
OR ELSE YOU'LL BE TOSSED
IT'S THE COST
FADE OUT
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Day At The Bunkhouse (Fun Poem 47)
It was Christmas day at the bunkhouse
everyone had sat down for a meal
when through the door walked a goat.
He stood and looked around,
then continued to eat an artichoke.
When he finished he sat and asked for a drink,
someone got up and gave him a bowel of water.
The goat looked at the offering with disgust.
Ain’t you got anything stronger that that?
Of course, we have, came the reply.
Well pour me out some the goats said,
and put some mud in my eye.
Someone had some scotch whiskey
and took the bottle out,
then gave the goat a dram.
The goat sniffed it, and then downed it
all in one swallow.
He then asked for more
saying his legs were still hollow.
Another dram was poured
and everyone was amazed to see,
an upside down goat
drinking a bottle of scotch whiskey.
The goat drank all day
and it drank all night.
The lights went out
and the old goat went to sleep.
He dreamed of himself
floating out the door
and all the way to heaven,
but when he got there,
St Peter wouldn’t let him in.
He said God will not tolerate
any drunken old goats here,
so you had better go back
and sleep it off, Billy.
Then put up a sign on the door.
No drunken old goats allowed,
signed by you know who.
You could always try
beneath the basement floor
he’ll greet you with a smile
and a shovel,
even make you hot and warm.
The moral of this story
whether you’re a goat or a man.
Don’t drink too much;
you could end up
jumping from the frying pan
and straight into the fire,
the one that they keep burning
permanently beneath the basement floor.
poem by David Harris
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The more the billy goat stinks, the more the nanny goat loves him.
A man and a goat can be friends but it would be foolishness for the goat to pay the first visit.
Do not try to cook the goat's young in the goat's milk.
Forget Me Not
My friend, never
Forget, forgotten me,
Forget and be forgotten.
Never forget
Our friendship,
Our relationship,
Our partnership.
Never forget
Our hope,
Our inspiration,
Our courage,
Our confidence.
Forget me not,
When we live separately,
When we out of sight,
When we out of mind,
When we out of sanity.
Forget yet remember me,
Forget yet forgive me,
Forget yet pray for me,
Forget yet call me.
Please forget me not.
Not to forget,
Your friend,
Your dream and vision,
Your ambition and success.
Forget me not,
Forget the No,
Forget the Maybe,
Forget the should be.
Think not to forget,
Think to remember,
Think to feel,
Think to say.
Forget, forgotten,
All bad things,
All bad deeds,
But forget me not.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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If you put a silk suit on a goat it is still a goat.
If you put a silk dress on a goat, he is a goat still.