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It is ill putting a sword in a madman's hand.
Madman 92 Re-mix
Disneyland is the place to be, cmon baby, just you and me;
Hand in hand, to disneyland, we go! not slow;
Happiest place, in the world til the madman grabs a girl;
Hand in hand, with the madman, she goes! oh oh!
Chorus
Knife gleamin no feelins, axe wieldin, child stealin,
Madman is loose.... in disneyland (in disneyland)
Come here little girl if you wanna see, peter pans magic flight on l.s.d.
Up and down, all around, we go! whoa oh!
Repeat chorus
Madman is loose in disneyland; hes back here by popular demand;
Madman is loose in disneyland; hell take no lip but hell take your head!
Surprise, surprise, Im comin at ya live;
I sure as hell aint mickey mouse, Im a killer in disguise
You can run and you can hide;
But you aint gettin away cause I got you in my sight;
Axe wieldn, child stealin;
Im a mad mother and Im loose!... in disneyland!
Have you heard the news, madman sure is loose,
Got you by the noose, have his way with you;
Nothin you can do, headline in the news,
Madman sure is loose in disneyland.
Disneyland is the place to be, in california, by the sea;
Sunny day, were a.o.k., for now, and how;
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Ugly Kid Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animal House
Morning is breaking with death on the street
Driving downtown in a red corvette
The daemons and satans are creeping around
La nights are madhouse nights
The murderers - are heroes
Theyre speeding all over the town
And justice - is drunken
Im tumbling upside down
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Living in an animal house
Rockers in concert are serving the bible
Praying in public is getting a habit
For selling out everything seems to be right, oh yeah
The sunset is crowded with tramps passing out
Theyre sleeping - in trash cans
Theres witchcraft in everyones eyes
Satans and daemons
All dressed up in suits and ties
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Madman - going crazy - living in an animal house
Im a madman...
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.
quote by Salvador Dali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Was
It was a moonless night
It was an empty sky
It was a bad excuse
I was the only fool in sight
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk
It was
It was a moonless night
It was an empty sky
It was a bad excuse
I was the only fool in sight
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk
It was
I had a wandering eye
She had a better time
It was a twisted thought
A black cat came to mind
She was a crazy thought
A madman's walk
She was
She was a long way home
Walking broken bones
It was wrong or right
How deep that knife could go
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk it was
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk it was
She was the hangman's noose
I was the fool, I was
Oh, I was
Yeah baby...I was
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Would Alexander, madman as he was, have been so much a madman, had it not been for Homer?
quote by Samuel Richardson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sword Of Mine
The Sword that I carry
Though made not of iron or steel,
It is a mighty sword
That I proudly do so wield.
Though it wont break the skin
Or combat the weapons of a foe
But this is a mighty sword of mine
More precious than silver or gold.
This sword that I carry
I proudly display it in my hand,
For I know this sword of mine
Is greater, than any other mans.
It comforts me when I am tired
It will warm me when I am cold
It will lie down beside of me
To protect, and strengthen my soul.
The sword that I hold
Is tattered, and so very worn
It has been a friend along side of me,
In the sunshine and many storms.
It has shown me a path to follow
And has lit the road that I walk,
And those nights when I was alone and scared
Then to me, I could hear it talk.
The sword that I wield
Though may be different, in shape or size,
But it is the same sword
Which for years has cushioned the souls cry.
It has been here since the dawn of time
And will be here when the great walls fall,
And then when all men of war and hate reflect,
My sword, will be the mightiest sword of all.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballot Or The Bullet
Give me liberty or give me death
No truer words have ever been said
Well are you prepared for your very last breath?
Dont you dare start what you cannot finish
So when we face, face the adversary
No longer are we the minority
And when history repeats her hour
The pendulum will swing, swing into power
Though not in vain like our forefathers
Freedom, never had no room for cowards
For in the end, there will be equality
By any means necessary
The ballot or the bullet
The choice is up to you
The ballot or the bullet
Tell me what you gonna do
The sword or the pen
Can be held by the same hand
Whats it gonna take to liberate?
An emancipation, a false proclamation?
All these token words that you legislate
Sound a little bit absurd. hey! and a little too late
When a house is divided, it just will not stand
Once its decided, a line drawn in the sand
Ah! the ballot or the bullet
The choice is up to you
The ballot or the bullet
Tell me what you gonna do
The sword or the pen
Can be held by the same hand
The ballot or the bullet
The choice is up to you
The ballot or the bullet
Tell me what you gonna do
The ballot or the bullet
The choice is up to you
The ballot or the bullet
Tell me what you gonna do
The sword or the pen can be
The sword or the pen can be
The sword or the pen can be
The sword or the pen can be
The sword or the pen can be
Held, held by the same hand!
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hero & The Madman
The hero he rode a white horse
Across the desert to where his woman was
Hed been riding for four days
When he saw the tower where she was locked
In the moonlight he left his old steed
Near the drawbridge that he crossed
And by way of a rope ladder
He tip-toed to where his woman was
If I recall youre the actor
Who followed the stars
Searching for
The lost city of mars
Hoping time would heal the scars
Knowing fate held no bars
Are you the one
That I think you are?
Are you the hero or are you the madman?
The madman climbed
The steeple spire
Go higher said the crowd
From down below
But...the worlds on fire cried the madman
From the steeple spire
Youre a liar cried the crown
From down below
The madman climbed the steeple spire
And let a crystal ball tear
Fall on the crown
From down below
If I recall youre the actor
Who took to the stage
Set the world ablaze
With your anger and your rage
With every new leaf
You turned and wrote a new page
Cleverly concealing
Your real age
Those that knew you
Were always quite amazed
Are you the one
Who can take this praise?
Are you the hero or are you the madman?
Youre the only one
Who can save us
Said the wizard
Or all is lost
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Scars Of Lovers....
a sharp sword
sharpens itself against
another sword
metal to metal
to the sound of the gritting teeth
one wants to imagine
an ecstasy of
a wound
blood dropping from
a slit on the
hand
there is none here
for this is but an affair
of a sword to another sword
thinking that
there is no war but love
in the air
sweet sounds of birds
sex moans and
calls for a mating
of the season
there is this hate that hides
inside the chest
where there is no option but
to sleep with
the one that never tickles you
not a bit
where love is feigned and
subdued
by need by survival by
pretenses
that man understands it
one can see the scars
not the stars......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thunder Sword
Man did not fear man
But the hero fear death of hero
By the dangerous thunder sword
Thro his shine sword and bright eyes
That bends all head of tree with arm
Oh, thou spirit of thunder,
No sword no spear in his palm
But his hand sharp more than sword
And it killed more than fire
No man can face and defeat
Thro his molest fire of his mouth
The lightning echo on sky bewilder heart
And thunderbolts annoyed with mirror of man
Which no man can harm on earth.
.
poem by Olugbenga Ayoola.O
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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St. John
John was bad he gave it everything he had
John he prayed for all the people ever made
John was cool he never did no afterschool
late at night when he praised the lord
he laid his hand down upon the sword
lay down upon the sword
lay down upon the sword
lay down upon the sword
lay down your bloody sword
John St. John be cool
tell the people they'll follow you
John St. John be cool
tell the people they'll follow you
late at night when he praised the lord
he lay his hands down upon the bloody sword
laid down upon the sword
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The smile with the sword
With smile, you can succeed.
With pleas, you can succeed.
With sword, you can command.
With smile and sword at hand,
You can walk well beyond.
17.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Other Hand...
the black man's hand,
the poor man's hand.
the Muslim hand, the Jewish hand...
the gay man's hand,
the working man's hand,
the ex-convict's hand,
the farmer's hand, the garbage man's hand...
the Christian's hand, the atheist's hand,
the father's hand, the soldier's hand,
the peacemaker's hand,
the healer's hand, the teacher's hand,
the prodigal's hand, even the murderer's hand...
the victim's hand, the broken hand,
the praying hand, the touching hand...
all, when extended,
feel like my other hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Admonition 08
As long as an affair can be arranged with gold, it is not proper to endanger life.
When the hand is foiled in every stratagem
It is licit to put the hand to the sword.
Rescued From This Dream
it`s been miles away from home,
And I can`t help but take the easy way out.
After you left me bleeding, aching over a broken heart.
You promised me forever, a fairy tale ending, a cinderella dream.
Yet all I keep having are nightmares of a step mom poisoning my blood stream.
once upon a time we stood against the world,
With not a fear in sight.
so, why do i keep tasting the bitter memories,
Of our last most recent fight.
they say a madman and a poet,
Both have soothing brains.
But I am not a madman, nor am I a poet.
I'm somewhere in between.
so i`ll keep chanting this poem,
Till I'm rescued from this hellish dream.
The Madman - His Parables and Poems
You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long
before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all
my masks were stolen,--the seven masks I have fashioned an worn in
seven lives,--I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting,
'Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.'
Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear
of me.
And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top
cried, 'He is a madman.' I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed
my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun
kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for
the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I
cried, 'Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.'
Thus I became a madman.
And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from
being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in
us.
But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail
is safe from another thief.
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Entered Into Battle With A Blunt Edged Sword
He entered into battle with a blunt edged sword,
But he did not know quite why.
His sword selection was done without motive,
To battle and kill his fellow man.
So subconsciously he picked out this sword.
This sword not of this world, not out to cut to bleed.
But this innocent man didn't wish to realize,
What prize he would pay.
In midst of this battle, recieving the swiftest,
Blows from his enemy,
This soldier just kept getting hurt.
Five, six and seven more blows made him hit back,
This soldier proudly used his blunt sword,
Till his nemesis bearing a razor sharp one,
Came along and challenged the already fallen one,
Who gave a swift plunge into his enemy's heart.
But the enemy did not stagger or fall.
Neither did the soldier with the blunt sword.
This soldier's enemy left the battleground,
When he saw that the one with the blunt sword,
Knew all along the possibility of his death.
Still he fought, so he himself could die,
Which the other soldier was saddened by that man's stance.
He told that man, 'if we all fought battles with a blunt
sword,
Then we would all truly win,
For the battleground would know no mortality.
He further told him, 'because of you, your side
Truly wins. But so does our.
We love you,
Blunt edged sword soldier man.'
poem by Vera Sidhwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chapter 9 - The Seven Selves
In the stillest hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whisper:
First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate no longer, and now I rebel.
Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is given to me to be this madman's joyous self. I laugh his laughter and sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance his brighter thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.
Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand of wild passion and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self who would rebel against this madman.
Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught was given me but odious hatred and destructive loathing. It is I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell, who would protest against serving this madman.
Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.
Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who, with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images and give the formless elements new and eternal forms-it is I, the solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.
Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to fulfil. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, while you are busy re-creating life. Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?
When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy submission.
But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Last battle
I have no wars
Left in me.
I am broken
Except in will.
My strength left
Is but for a few battles.
My sword
Has grown heavy,
My hand weak.
The only strength left
Is in my heart.
Let my will then
Carry the fight for me.
Let my will
Bring me honor
Let my will
Swing the sword
For freedom
Let my will
Carry me to
My last battle
'Live free or die'
poem by James Timothy Jarrett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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