Man watches his history on the screen with apathy and an occasional passing flicker of horror or indignation.
quote by Conor Cruise O'Brien
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His Eye Is On The Sparrow
Why should I feel discouraged
Why should the shadows come
Why should my heart feel lonely
And long for heaven and home
When Jesus is my portion
A constant friend is He
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches over me
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me
I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me (He watches me)
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches
I know He watches
I know He watches me
I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me (He watches me)
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me (He watches me)
He watches me
I know
He watches
Me
song performed by by Lauryn Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I appeal to you, my friends, as mothers: are you willing to enslave your children? You stare back with horror and indignation at such questions. But why, if slavery is not wrong to those upon whom it is imposed?
quote by Angelina Grimke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Eye Is On The Sparrow
Why should I feel discouraged
And why should the shadows come
And why should mt heart feel so lonely
And long for heaven and home
When Jesus is my portion
My constant friend is He
His eyes in on the sparrow
And I know he watches me
I sing because I'm happy
I sing bcaause I'm free
His eye in on the sparrow
And I know he watches
And I know he watches
I know he watches me
I sing because I'm happy
I sing bcaause I'm free
His eye in on the sparrow
And I know he watches
And I know he watches
I know he watches me
I know he watches me
song performed by by Jessica Simpson from Irresistible
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Eye Is On The Sparrow
(mrs. s. martin)
Why should I feel discouraged
Why should the shadows come
Why should my heart feel lonely
And long for heaven and home?
When jesus is my portion
My constant friend
Is he
His eye is on the sparrow
I know he watches me
His eye is on the sparrow
I know he watches me
I sing because Im happy
I sing because Im free
His eye is on the sparrow
I know he watches me
His eye, his eye is on the sparrow
I know he watches
I know he watches
I know he watches me
I sing because Im happy
I sing because Im free
His eye is on the sparrow
I know, I know, I know he watches over
He watches over me
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
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She Is Mother Nature Keeper of Our Lives!
She stands upon the shores of time
Contemplating the rhythm of time
She bends slowly like a graceful swan
To dip her hands into the cool essence of life
She watches the ripples as they flicker through the water
Cascading into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years
Generating the life of a child she watches
As it grows from baby to toddler to young child
Then onto turbulent years of teenager and young adult
The ripples cascading through the years
As the child becomes a man/woman
She gasps at how the flow of life shifts into the ripples of time
She watches as the ripples decide what fate beholds them next
She smiles at souls as it changes their hues of colours to blend with life
She is the essence that all there is
She is a beauty within
She is Mother Nature the keeper of our Lives
poem by Kaila George
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By This Kind of Burning
The core of my being
Animates with heated truth.
It does not stay ignited to offend.
But then...
Neither will it suffocate,
From smoke screens placed...
To shield it from an occasional agitated blaze!
So many have rushed in panic to squelch these sparks.
Once raging now they flicker.
But it doesn't keep the winds that come,
From spreading what has been simmering...
Into flames that captivate and hypnotize,
Those mesmerized by this kind of burning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The History Of Tomorrow
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame
© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob
Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.
poem by Adegbenro Adekunle
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Apathy 83
(ian hunter)
Standin on the edge of vesuvius - my mouth is runnin dry
Drunk on wine & wisdom - giving it all away
Old enough to hate tomorrow - young enough not to know where to run
Oh there aint no rockn roll no more - just the music of the young
Apathy for the devil apathy for the devil
Apathy for the devil ,n apathy for the son.
The moon shines brightly on some summer lawn -
And envy caught like a leaf
Comes floating down upon this frozen desert sand -
Spitting bullets through the night
The siren wails on the ambulance - compassion touches my head n it bleeds
There aint no rockn roll no more just the sickly sound of greed.
And its apathy for the devil and its apathy for the devil
And its apathy for the devil n apathy for the creed
No more gardens for the gardenless - no more - havens for the havenless
No more helpers for the helplessness - no more - somethings for a less
For the law is now the lawless
n the flaw is now the flawless
n the crime is now accepted
n the criminal respected
n now evil gets elected
n now sinful get selected
Heed a president proven rotten now officially forgotten
Was it your general sheridan who once said the only good, good man is a dead good man.
It was not me babe
I just said keep your head n your bread well down under them floorboards
n you - you look like you gone with the wind
Running naked through the streets
Wired out - tired out - transcendental mental - only laughing in your sleep
Nostalgia is starting to focus too late, imagination is starting to itch
There aint no rockn roll no more just the music of the rich
n its apathy for the devil n its apathy for the devil
n its apathy for the devil apathys at fever pitch
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost Souls
hanging around
waiting for something to do
but there is nothing,
if he smoked he'd smoke a cigarette
fag-end of time
waiting
dynamic apathy, nothing
to do,
lives wasted in schizophrenia
wandering about, straying into cafes
hopeless pints
never a girlfriend
anxious hours
waiting-rooms, injections
occasional sweet moments of joy
a hundred years of boredom in a minute
Jesus spare us
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Painter Passing Through
Once upon a time I was on my own
Once upon a time like youve never known
Once upon a time I would be impressed
Once upon a time my life would be obsessed
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
Yesterday is gone, yesterdays alright
Yesterday belongs in my dreams at night
Yesterday is swell, yesterday is great
Yesterday is strong, remembering can wait
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know an answer I cant turn your life around
For I am just a painter passing through the underground
I was in my stride, always at my game
Here comes mister cool, along the walk of fame
I was in demand, always in control
The world was in my hands, my touch had turn to gold
Once upon a time, I was in a daze when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
Now that I am old, let me rest a spell
All that I am told, I can never tell
Never in my life, never will it pass
I am still alone, remembering at last
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know an answer I cant turn your life around
For I am just a painter passing through the underground
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I remember seeing some little wrinkles in my early 30s and thinking they were interesting. But you know the horror of it is that the screen image has to be perfect.
quote by Claire Bloom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History and Nature As One
one day
one hour
one minute
every passing of time holds a part of history
and this history holds a meaning for all
for the stars in the sky never cry
and the moon never weeps
and the rivers and oceans converge as one
like the grass and the trees, we coexist
we see nature as separate of history
but they are one like the birds and the sky
and this history tells of what happens
when those hearts that do break, just die
and even though the stars and moon share no tears
they may be sorrowful in the night
and I cry by this dying light
poem by Nicole Henson
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It seems to me the book has not just aesthetic values-- the charming little clothy box of the thing, the smell of the glue, even the print, which has its own beauty. But there's something about the sensation of ink on paper that is in some sense a thing, a phenomenon rather than an epiphenomenon. I can't break the association of electric trash with the computer screen. Words on the screen give the sense of being just another passing electronic wriggle.
quote by John Updike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moral indignation in most cases is, 2% moral, 48% indignation, and 50% envy.
quote by Vittorio De Sica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Selina sees our misery.
The moon mistress of mystery
has observed mankind’s history.
For centuries and centuries.
Though she has seen it all before
Mankind’s love of making war
Against her rules which men ignore.
While trying to impose their will
on other men. They lack the skill
to come to terms and so they kill.
The goddess watches in despair.
Because her children do not dare
to show each other that they care.
All members of one family
and still they squabble endlessly
Instead of living peacefully.
In time perhaps they will mature
and change the course of their nature
She hopes but cannot be sure.
Because her children have free will.
And choose their way for good or ill.
The goddess waits and watches still.
A symbol of serenity
she waits and watches patiently.
Long suffering humanity.
Monday,16 August 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Circle
Springing in the spring,
Flickering the wings
Jocund mood
Regale
Even they
Whose eyes
Skip the jocund bay.
Life
Lively
Of flicker
What derived?
There atop, from where thy flows
Heavens have mated
Rush, with a gush
Deluge!
Sweeps the boundaries of bay,
That jocund bay
Where wings flickered.
Flicker,
For another spring
Flicker,
For another deluge.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Passing Through
I saw jesus on the cross on a hill called calvary
Do you hate mankind for what they done to you?
He said, talk of love not hate, things to do - its getting late.
Ive so little time and Im only passing through.
Passing through, passing through.
Sometimes happy, sometimes blue,
Glad that I ran into you.
Tell the people that you saw me passing through.
I saw adam leave the garden with an apple in his hand,
I said now youre out, what are you going to do?
Plant some crops and pray for rain, maybe raise a little cane.
Im an orphan now, and Im only passing through.
Passing through, passing through ...
I was with washington at valley ford, shivering in the snow.
I said, how come the men here suffer like they do?
Men will suffer, men will fight, even die for what is right
Even though they know theyre only passing through
Passing through, passing through ...
I was with franklin roosevelts side on the night before he died.
He said, one world must come out of world war two (ah, the fool)
Yankee, russian, white or tan, he said, a man is still a man.
Were all on one road, and were only passing through.
Passing through, passing through ...
(lets do it one more time)
Passing through, passing through ...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Higher Power Watches
A Higher Power Watches
Who deliberately causes
The innocent to flout
The sweet to become bitter
The peaceful to become upset.
A Higher Power Watches
People who provoke
The good to do evil.
To speak unkind
To deceive to live unclean.
A Higher Power Watches
How the family behaves
How friends are engaged
Or how who ever interrupts
Or encourages a Life.
A Higher Power Watches
Consciously every move.
Inspirations and righteousness
Cleanliness and courage
Ameliorations and aspirations.
A Higher Power Watches
What every insight sees.
Every intellectual knowing
Every attitude existing
What life's breath blows.
A Higher Power Watches
Every humilation
Every honesty and sincerity
Every forgiveness
And every loving thought.
poem by Cecelia Weir
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Then my first film was something called Cannibal Girls, which sounds like a horror movie but was actually kind of a goofy comedy with horror elements. Like a horror spoof.
quote by Ivan Reitman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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