In front of us was not a line but a fortress position, twenty miles deep, entrenched and fortified, defended by masses of machine-gun posts and thousands of guns in a wide arc. No chance for cavalry!
quote by Philip Gibbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fed Up
I ain't a timid man at all, I'm just as brave as most,
I'll take my chance in open fight and die beside my post;
But riding round the 'ole day long as target for a Krupp,
A-drawing fire from Koppies -- well, I'm fair fed up.
It's wonderful how few get hit, it's luck that pulls us through;
Their rifle fire's no class at all, it misses me and you;
But when they sprinkle shells around like water from a cup
From that there blooming pom-pom gun -- well, I'm fed up.
We never get a chance to charge, to do a thrust and cut,
I'll have to chuck the Cavalry and join the Mounted Fut.
But after all -- What's Mounted Fut? I saw them t'other day,
They occupied a koppie when the Boers had run away.
The Cavalry went riding on and seen a score of fights,
But there they kept them Mounted Fut three solid days and nights --
Three solid starving days and nights with scarce a bite or sup.
Well! after that on Mounted Fut I'm fair fed up.
And tramping with the Footies ain't as easy as it looks,
They scarcely ever see a Boer except in picture books.
They do a march of twenty mile that leaves 'em nearly dead,
And then they find the bloomin' Boers is twenty miles ahead.
Each Footy is as full of fight as any bulldog pup,
But walking forty miles to fight -- well, I'm fed up.
So after all I think that when I leave the Cavalry
I'll either join the ambulance or else the A.S.C.;
They've always tucker in the plate and coffee in the cup,
But bully beef and biscuits -- well! I'm fair fed up!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With every step we take
Twenty miles, then twenty miles,
then twenty miles again.
We’ll keep on walking, day by day,
towards breast cancer’s end.
With every step, with every stair,
We train to walk this path
To raise the funds to fight the beast
And consign it to the past..
It will be hot, It may be wet
As we traverse the miles
and when we rest, beneath the stars,
We’ll sleep like stones awhile
With every step, with every mile
We’re walking towards a cure
And we would walk a thousand miles
To end its’ reign for sure..
If not in time for one we loved
Perhaps in time for others-
So many suffer scars or worse
where death’s dark angel hovers.
Twenty miles, then twenty miles,
then twenty miles again.
We’ll keep on walking, day by day,
towards breast cancer’s end.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Cold Iron Bound
by Bob Dylan
I'm beginning to hear voices and there's no one around
Well, I'm all used up and the fields have turned brown
I went to church on Sunday and she passed by
My love for her is taking such a long time to die
I'm waist deep, waist deep in the mist
It's almost like, almost like I don't exist
I'm twenty miles out of town, in cold irons bound
The walls of pride are high and wide
Can't see over to the other side
It's such a sad thing to see beauty decay
It's sadder still, to feel your heart torn away
One look at you and I'm out of control
Like the universe has swallowed me whole
I'm twenty miles out of town in Cold irons bound
There's too many people, too many to recall
I thought some of 'm were friends of mine; I was wrong about 'm all
Well, the road is rocky and the hillside's mud
Up over my head nothing but clouds of blood
I found my world, found my world in you
But your love just hasn't proved true
I'm twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
Twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
Oh, the winds in Chicago have torn me to shreds
Reality has always had too many heads
Some things last longer than you think they will
There are some kind of things you can never kill
It's you and you only, I'm been thinking about
But you can't see in and it's hard lookin' out
I'm twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
Well the fats in the fire and the water's in the tank
The whiskey's in the jar and the money's in the bank
I tried to love and protect you because I cared
I'm gonna remember forever the joy that we shared
Looking at you and I'm on my bended knee
You have no idea what you do to me
I'm twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
Twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Love Machine
(words & music by nelson - burch - taylor)
Step right up to the love machine
You may get lucky when you zap a dream
Let the wheel go round, round and round
You may win that girl youve never found
She may be suzy or maybelline
She could be cathy or angeline
Let the wheel go round, round and round
Try your luck right now on the love machine
Were just a bunch of salty sailors
One thing on our mind
Takin a chance on this machine
Maybe love well find
She maybe tall she maybe short
She may be wide
But lady luck stop that wheel
On 38-24-35
Step up, whose next in line
This love machine dont waste no time
Let the wheel go round, round and round
What will your fortune be on the love machine
All right
Were just a bunch of salty sailors
One thing on our mind
Takin a chance on this machine
Maybe love well find
She maybe tall she maybe short
She may be wide
But lady luck stop that wheel
On 38-24-35
Step up, whose next in line
This love machine dont waste no time
Let the wheel go round and round and round
And round and round and round and round
What will your fortune be on the love machine
What will your fortune be on the love machine
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Have the Cavalry Done?
What have the cavalry done?
Cantered and trotted about,
Routin' the enemy out,
Causin' the beggars to run!
And we tramped along in the blazin' heat,
Over the veldt on our weary feet.
Tramp, tramp, tramp
Under the blazin' sun,
With never the sight of a bloomin' Boer,
'Cause they'd hunted 'em long before --
That's what the cavalry done!
What have the gunners done
Battlin' every day,
Battlin' any way.
Boers outranged 'em, but what cared they?
"Shoot and be damned," said the R.H.A.!
See! when the fight grows hot,
Under the rifles or not,
Always the order runs,
"Fetch up the bloomin' guns!"
And you'd see them great gun horses spring
To the "action front" -- and around they'd swing.
Find the range with some queer machine
"At four thousand with fuse fourteen.
Ready! Fire number one!"
Handled the battery neat and quick!
Stick to it, too! How did they stick!
Never a gunner was seen to run!
Never a gunner would leave his gun!
Not though his mates dropped all around!
Always a gunner would stand his ground.
Take the army -- the infantry,
Mounted rifles, and cavalry,
Twice the numbers I'd give away,
And I'd fight the lot with the R.H.A.,
For they showed us how a corps should be run,
That's what the gunners done!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With all the knowledge and skill acquired in thousands of flights in the last ten years, I would hardly think today of making my first flight on a strange machine in a twenty-seven mile wind, even if I knew that the machine had already been flown and was safe.
quote by Orville Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honesty
Thousands of thousands people
Among the thousands of rows
Waiting for the entry to the show
Of blitz, glamour and corruption.
The first rows are for the VIPs
The middle ones are for the sycophants
As I am neither of them
So my row is the last one.
Front line is for the hypocrites
Middle ones are for the touts
As I am neither of them
So my line is at the end.
I am feeling lonely
And my row is empty
Could you please for few minutes stand with me?
So that I can show you the real delight
Of life in the path of honesty..
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Assault weapons' menacing looks, coupled with the public's confusion over fully-automatic machine guns versus semi-automatic assault weapons --anything that looks like a machine gun is assumed to be a machine gun-- can only increase the chance of public support for restrictions on these weapons.
quote by Josh Sugarmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Class of Blinds
In the class of blind students
About the black board
Teacher asks, can you see it?
Yes Sir, it is -
Miles high, miles wide and miles deep
What is written on it?
Sir, it is dark, but sounds like ‘public’.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Whispers From Bones
THE WAR MACHINE
IS QUITE OBSCENE
THE WAR MACHINE
IS QUITE UNCLEAN
BUT
THE WAR MACHINE
WILL NOT STOP
BECAUSE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST BE FED
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE BLOOD
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE DEATH
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE LIFE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE STRIFE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST BE FED
THE WAR MACHINE
LOVES THE DEAD
THE WAR MACHINE
WILL NOT STOP
BECAUSE
THE WAR MACHINE
IS ANGRY MAN.
poem by M.L. Squier
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William Blake
He came to the desert of London town
Gray miles long;
He wandered up and he wandered down,
Singing a quiet song.
He came to the desert of London town,
Mirk miles broad;
He wandered up and he wandered down,
Ever alone with God.
There were thousands and thousands of human kind
In this desert of brick and stone;
But some were deaf and some were blind,
And he was there alone.
At length the good hour came; he died
As he had lived, alone.
He was not missed from the desert wide;
Perhaps he was found at the throne.
poem by James Thomson
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Festooned Man
Laid out by the festooned man,
The front road was a double avenue;
The festooned man carried moss on his chin
With wide eyes, and compounds of course.
Certain lotions needed adding to the gentleman,
With fearsome times on this horizon;
Laid out by the man of many colours,
A rainbow defended the land with the sea.
Your man perched on the line
Is sounding alert, detached and misaligned;
Your terrifying man, destitute and scared,
Scares us well above the normal level.
He is laying out a front road of picture-perfect
Quality; it is overgrown and funny with moss,
Like his beard and all the festooned man's body,
The body of diseases and ailments always contagious.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Runnin' Shine
WELL NOW DOWN DEEP IN THE OZARKS MAN, THERE WERE I WAS BORN, MY GRANDFATHER OWNED A STILL AND RAISED A FIELD OF CORN. HE TOLD ME BOY, YOU GONNA CARRY ON THIS FAMILY TRADITION, THEN HE WILLED ME THE STILL PLUS ALL THE GUNS AND AMMUNITION. YOU BETTER START RUNNIN' WHEN THE BULLETS START TO FLY. YOU BETTER UNDERSTAND YOU FACE FLASH IN THE SKY. I'M RUNNIN' SHINE. MY GRANDFATHER TAUGHT ME ALL THE SECRETS OF THE TRADE, HE TAUGHT ME HOW TO DRINK AND SELL THE BEST OF WHAT I MADE. HE TAUGHT ME HOW TO UTILIZE THE GUNS AND AMMUNTION AND HE ATAUGHT ME HOW TO DEAL WITH THOSE WHO ENVIED MY POSITION. ONE DAY SHERIFF GERALD COLTRANE CAME A KNOCKIN' AT MY DOOR, HE TOLD ME YOU WON'T BE MAKIN' THAT CORN LIQUOR NO MORE. I FINALLY GOT TO UTILIZE THE GUNS AND AMMUNITION AND I FINALLY GOT TO DEAL WITH WHOSE WHO ENVIED MY POSITION
song performed by by Zeke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Marsh
i know how the marshes smell,
used to have the smell of fish and mud
untouched by the body of a boat,
a wooden boat
definitely without the noise of the machine
and the gun
and the bearded men that carry the guns
less the children
and their mothers who have never come
and stayed an inch deep in the water
i have gone there once
i was a virgin, a fresh mind like the lily
of the marsh
i was the pure air of the lilies, i breathe
and they breathe with me
until i become like some of the bearded men
who come with the noise of the machine
and the guns
i do not like the smell of the marshes now
there are dead bodies of children and women
and unaccounted men
rotten, time and the waters finally buried them
less the usual ritual
of good men.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Under a Cobalt Machine
Under a cobalt machine
I lie down and count your grace
Under the cobalt machine
I see myself a small microcosm
In your wide and deep universe.
Under a cobalt machine
I see how fragile life is
Much dependent on the rays
Of your mercy and grace.
Let me lie down here
Believing that the cobalt rays
Are your fingers that touch me.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Copy Machine and I
I have a copy machine romance
where the machine's heat
contributes
to my losing my senses.
Our arrivals
are timed
each day to maximize
and synchronize
to intensify
the chance encounter
we both seek.
'How are you' is
the morning entree;
the sounds of the staple and sort routine
and just a brush of finger tip
warmed by the sweeping green glow
as you help
position
the paper guide
and insert
a new ream
in the paper tray;
bending we both
and now standing
while we wait
for copying
one-sided
double-sided and both.
In the humming silence
the machine
spools
guides
separates
and we
have yet another
small
'just getting to know you'
situation
which
may
lead
who
knows
what.
And it did.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Machine Messiah
Part i
Run down a street
Where the glass shows
That summer has gone
Age, in the doorways
Resenting the pace of the dawn.
All of them standing in line
All of them waiting for time.
From time, the great healer,
The machine-messiah
Is born.
Cables that carry the life
To the cities we build
Threads that link diamonds of life
To the satanic mills
Ah, to see in every way
That we feel it every
Day, and know that
Maybe well change
Offered the chance
To finally unlearn our lessons
And alter our stance.
Part ii
Friends make their way into systems of chance
(reply- friends make their way of escape into systems of chance)
Escape to freedom I need to be there
Waiting and watching, the tables are turning
Im waiting and watching
I need to be there.
I care to see them walk away
And, to be there when they say
They will return.
Machine, messiah
The mindless
Search for a higher
Controller
Take me to the fire
And hold me
Show me the strength of your
Singular eye.
Part iii
History dictating symptoms of ruling romance
Claws at the shores of the water upon which we dance
All of us standing in line
All of us waiting for time
To feel it, all the way
And to be there when they
Say they know that
Maybe well change
Offered the chance
To finally unlearn our lessons
And alter our stance.
Machine, machine messiah.
Take me into the fire
Hold me, machine messiah
And show me
The strength of your singular eye.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Machine Messiah
Part i
Run down a street
Where the glass shows
That summer has gone
Age, in the doorways
Resenting the pace of the dawn.
All of them standing in line
All of them waiting for time.
From time, the great healer,
The machine-messiah
Is born.
Cables that carry the life
To the cities we build
Threads that link diamonds of life
To the satanic mills
Ah, to see in every way
That we feel it every
Day, and know that
Maybe well change
Offered the chance
To finally unlearn our lessons
And alter our stance.
Part ii
Friends make their way into systems of chance
(reply- friends make their way of escape into systems of chance)
Escape to freedom I need to be there
Waiting and watching, the tables are turning
Im waiting and watching
I need to be there.
I care to see them walk away
And, to be there when they say
They will return.
Machine, messiah
The mindless
Search for a higher
Controller
Take me to the fire
And hold me
Show me the strength of your
Singular eye.
Part iii
History dictating symptoms of ruling romance
Claws at the shores of the water upon which we dance
All of us standing in line
All of us waiting for time
To feel it, all the way
And to be there when they
Say they know that
Maybe well change
Offered the chance
To finally unlearn our lessons
And alter our stance.
Machine, machine messiah.
Take me into the fire
Hold me, machine messiah
And show me
The strength of your singular eye.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waitin’ In Line
Have you ever had that feeling,
that you are wasting your time,
whenever you are waitin’ in line?
You see someone at the front,
always seem to get the best.
You seem to be last in line,
and only get what’s left.
Sometimes my friend,
the last in line do get the best.
The ones in front,
tries the goods and discard them easily.
While the one at the back keeps
hold of everything, they get.
While the one at the front,
so quickly forgets.
poem by David Harris
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To Eve: Disarm Yourself
Take off
all
your army artillery
-Your cold war tech, IT, Spy agencies, Satellite dream Networking, your little Nukes, and automatic fire arm guns.-
put them away.
i did not come
for a war.
or from a war zone.
i am safe,
but
i can make
by myself
a new third, fourth, and twenty five thousands war from now,
and do not ask me about
the details.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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