There isn't a sword that would cut off a golden hand.
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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 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
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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 Golden Door
I am always bound to you but,
Will you not bide your years as i do bide mine?
I am always bound to you,
Like the dead flame of the fallen day;
Surely, i shall be wiser with you always.
Of the golden door under the palm tree,
We know each other than all our lives;
But a year is not so long ahead.
A life long hunger,
Like a drunkard's hand;
Come out and see the golden door.
Such a change,
Much to look for;
You have been my guide in this house.
I earnestly prayed for a sign and,
I grieve to see you poor and wanting my help;
But, can one love twice?
Like the dead flame of the fallen day.
The golden door,
You have closed the best among us;
But today, i am rich and well to do.
At the golden door,
She sold her wares for less;
But, growing she know not where.
Of the golden door,
Of where he fixed his heart to set his hand;
Come and see swimming eyes of love,
Can you ever be loved again? !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Man With The Golden Gun
The man
With the golden gun
Is waiting
Somewhere
Out there
For you
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
Demand
For the golden gun
It's high priced
Precise
And true
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in his case, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for you
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for yo-ou
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
The man with the go-o-olden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the go-o-lden
Gun in his case
The man who gave you the golden gun
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
Golden Lady
Looking in your eyes
Kind of heaven eyes
Closing both my eyes
Waiting for surprise
To see the heaven in your eyes is not so far
Cause Im not afraid to try and go it
To know the love and the beauty never known before
Ill leave it up to you to show it
And golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Take me right away
Looking at your hands
Hands can understand
Waiting for the chance
Just to hold your hand
A touch of rain and sunshine made the flower grow
Into a lovely smile thats blooming
And its so clear to me that youre a dream come true
Theres no way that Ill be losing
And golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Take me right away
A touch of rain and sunshine made the flower grow
Into a lovely smile thats blooming
And its so clear to me that your my dream come true
There is no way that Ill be losing
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Repeat and fade
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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On The Other Hand
On one hand I count the reasons I could stay with you
And hold you close to me, all night long.
So many lover's games I could play with you
and on that hand I see no reason why it's wrong
Chorus:
But on the other hand, There's a golden band
To remind of someone who would not understand
On one hand I could stay and be your loving man
But the reason I must go is on the other hand
In your arms I feel the passion, I thought had died
When I looked into your eyes I found myself
When I first kissed your lips I felt so alive
I've got to hand it to you girl, you're something else
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only Worse
On one hand I count the reasons I could stay with you
And hold you close to me, all night long.
So many lover's games I could play with you
and on that hand I see no reason why it's wrong
Chorus:
But on the other hand, There's a golden band
To remind of someone who would not understand
On one hand I could stay and be your loving man
But the reason I must go is on the other hand
In your arms I feel the passion, I thought had died
When I looked into your eyes
I found myself
When I first kissed your lips I felt so alive
I've got to hand it to you girl, you're something else
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Carl Hamblin
The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked,
And I was tarred and feathered,
For publishing this on the day the Anarchists were hanged in Chicago:
"I saw a beautiful woman with bandaged eyes
Standing on the steps of a marble temple.
Great multitudes passed in front of her,
Lifting their faces to her imploringly.
In her left hand she held a sword.
She was brandishing the sword,
Sometimes striking a child, again a laborer,
Again a slinking woman, again a lunatic.
In her right hand she held a scale;
Into the scale pieces of gold were tossed
By those who dodged the strokes of the sword.
A man in a black gown read from a manuscript:
'She is no respecter of persons.'
Then a youth wearing a red cap
Leaped to her side and snatched away the bandage.
And lo, the lashes had been eaten away
From the oozy eye-lids;
The eye-balls were seared with a milky mucus;
The madness of a dying soul
Was written on her face --
But the multitude saw why she wore the bandage."
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Lay His Sword By His Side
Lay his sword by his side -- it hath served him too well
Not to rest near his pillow below;
To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell,
Its point was still turn'd to a flying foe.
Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death,
Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave --
That sword which he loved still unbroke in its sheath,
And himself unsubdued in his grave.
Yet pause -- for, in fancy, a still voice I hear,
As if breathed from his brave heart's remains; --
Faint echo of that which, in Slavery's ear,
Once sounded the war-word, "Burst your chains."
And it cries, from the grave where the hero lies deep,
"Though the day of your Chieftain for ever hath set,
Oh leave not his sword thus inglorious to sleep --
It hath victory's life in it yet!
"Should some alien, unworthy such weapon to wield,
Dare to touch thee, my own gallant sword,
Then rest in thy sheath, like a talisman seal'd,
Or return to the grave of thy chainless lord.
But, if grasp'd by a hand that hath learn'd the proud use
Of a falchion, like thee, on the battle-plain,
Then, at Liberty's summons, like lightning let loose,
Leap forth from thy dark sheath again!"
poem by Thomas Moore
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Menelaus and Helen
I
Hot through Troy's ruin Menelaus broke
To Priam's palace, sword in hand, to sate
On that adulterous whore a ten years' hate
And a king's honour. Through red death, and smoke,
And cries, and then by quieter ways he strode,
Till the still innermost chamber fronted him.
He swung his sword, and crashed into the dim
Luxurious bower, flaming like a god.
High sat white Helen, lonely and serene.
He had not remembered that she was so fair,
And that her neck curved down in such a way;
And he felt tired. He flung the sword away,
And kissed her feet, and knelt before her there,
The perfect Knight before the perfect Queen.
II
So far the poet. How should he behold
That journey home, the long connubial years?
He does not tell you how white Helen bears
Child on legitimate child, becomes a scold,
Haggard with virtue. Menelaus bold
Waxed garrulous, and sacked a hundred Troys
'Twixt noon and supper. And her golden voice
Got shrill as he grew deafer. And both were old.
Often he wonders why on earth he went
Troyward, or why poor Paris ever came.
Oft she weeps, gummy-eyed and impotent;
Her dry shanks twitch at Paris' mumbled name.
So Menelaus nagged; and Helen cried;
And Paris slept on by Scamander side.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Two Coffins
In yonder old cathedral
Two lovely coffins lie;
In one, the head of the state lies dead,
And a singer sleeps hard by.
Once had that King great power
And proudly ruled the land--
His crown e'en now is on his brow
And his sword is in his hand.
How sweetly sleeps the singer
With calmly folded eyes,
And on the breast of the bard at rest
The harp that he sounded lies.
The castle walls are falling
And war distracts the land,
But the sword leaps not from that mildewed spot
There in that dead king's hand.
But with every grace of nature
There seems to float along--
To cheer again the hearts of men
The singer's deathless song.
poem by Eugene Field
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