It is best to rise from life as from a banquet, neither thirsty nor drunken.
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The Banquet
A banquet for two,
A joyous occasion;
Of wine foe a lamb,
A momentous victory;
A little wine curbs gallstones.
I have my mind on you and,
You have your mind on me too;
So, we have to meet one day.
The juice of fruits,
Distilled from honey;
Like a drink for two at a banquet.
I have my mind on you,
Like the lamb which was sacrificed;
You have your mind on me too like,
The food which was eaten;
This is the mixture of the muse that bubbles.
A banquet for two,
The joy of a muse;
True love is all that takes us to this banquet.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rise, Rise to the Occasion
Rise, rise to the occasion
Rise, rise to the invitations of life
Oh rise, rise to the music of joy
Uh rise, rise to the victory over strife!
This is the time for you to march forward
Oh son of the Mighty! Valor is the key
This is the urgency to show courage abundant
Oh daughter of Energy! Courage is the key
Rise, rise to the tide and rise to the low
Defeat lethargy and defeat fear
Mind the goal and attain it
The guts are here and the glory is here
Face the challenge, embrace it
Cross the puddles and the furrows
Calm the heart and fight the battle
Celebration’s for you – not the sorrows
Rise, rise then, rise O bright!
Rise, rise then to the right
Tire not, rise till the end of the path
Rise, rise then to all the might!
poem by Bhaswat Chakraborty
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We Shall Rise
(traditional/emmylou harris)
In that resurrection morning
When the trumpet of God shall sound
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
Then the saints will come rejoicing and
No tears will eer be found
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise (amen)
We shall rise, (hallelujah)
In that resurrection morning
When these prison bars are broken
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
In that resurrection morning
When the shades of life has fled
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
In the day of glory dawning when the sea
Gives up his dead
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
I shall see my blessed savior
Who so freely died for me
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
And our fathers and our mothers and our
Loved ones we shall see
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes
Gather round you people and a story I will tell
About a brave young indian you should remember well
From the tribe of pima indians, a proud and a peaceful band
They farmed the phoenix valley in arizona land
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till their white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed
Now iras folks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteers and forgot, the white mans greed
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up iwo jima hill, 250 men
But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again
And when the fight was over and the old glory raised
One of the men who held it high was the indian ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Now ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a pima indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what ira had done and the wind did the indians
Dance
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
And ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home
They let him raise the flag there and lower it like youd throw a dog a bone
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, but his land is still as dry
And his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laugh song
(it's just a silly song, please sing with your own melody)
Drunken man: The bottle is empty
I’m still thirsty
What can we do right now?
Crowd: Let’s steal some wine!
Bar owner: It’s the time up now!
You must pay and go
Crowd: Why is she so cruel?
We’re just having fun
Bar owner: The wind goes strong
I’m afraid storm comes
What can I do old man
With drunken men and fool?
Crowd: Our friends with us
You are warm and nice
Bar owner: No more drink tonight
Go home, goodnight!
Servant boy: The rain goes heavy
The bridge is down!
Crowd: Lord has mercy
We can’t go right now!
Crowd: The road is dark
Hard storm around
What can we do right now?
Bar owner: Sit and wait sad clown!
Man: Thunder sparks wild
Do we have some bone?
The dog still barks
Crowd: Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark
Drunken man: The bone is gone
Tomorrow we’ll mourn
What can we do right now?
Crowd: What can we do right now?
Man: No feet dance here
No music I hear
Crowd: Let’s ask our dear!
She can cheer we here
Man: The fiddle’s asleep
Her cords are curling
Crowd: Let’s just sing a song!
La, la, la, la, la
Drunken man: Your song is bad
My ears are ache
Crowd: It’s the wine not song
Your sense goes wrong
Servant boy: The rain still falls
It’s not safe to home
Crowd: We own our fall
It’s not safe from fight
Drunken man: The bottles mad and fly
Too pity they’re empty
Bar owner: Play set in my rest
You’ll be kicked and wet!
Man: Let’s close to the fire
Till words are over
Crowd: Tell tales and stories
Till the world’s over
Crowd: Only wise can say
We crazy laugh and cry
In the middle of flood
The last laugh will shout!
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Drunken Hearted Boy
By the allman brothers band
From the fillmore concerts
Well, yes, people I am a poor, drunken hearted boy.
Well, yeah, people I am a poor, drunken hearted boy.
I have a whole ocean of trouble,
And just a little, half pint of joy.
I drink because Im worried, I dont drink because Im dry.
I know if I keep on drinkin, Im liable to drink away my life.
But thats alright.
Baby, bring me another half-a-pint,
Im trying to drown these blues, yes I am.
People if you had my trouble,
Baby, I know youd be drinkin too.
Alright.
Baby, bring me some old grandads 100 proof.
Dont play like that man, youll make me thirsty.
Oh, lord.
Baby, if I keep on drinkin, I know I cant last too long.
Woman, if I keep on drinkin, people ya know I cant last too long.
Thats alright, cause when Im dead and buried,
Please think about me when you hear this song.
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drunken Lullabies
Must it take a life for hatful eyes
To glisten once again
Five hundred years like Gelignite
Have blown us all to hell
What savior rests while on his cross we die
Has the Shepard led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies
I watch and stare as Rosin's eyes
Turn a darker shade of red
And the bullet with this sniper lie
In their bloody gutless cell
Must we starve on crumbs from long ago
Through these bars of men made steel
Is it a great or little thing we fought
Knelt the conscience blessed to kill
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies
Ah
song performed by by Flogging Molly from Drunken Lullabies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rise Up
rise up and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
we've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Everybody's come a long long way
such a long way ,to be here today
we're going hard ,giving it all
we've been knocking on wood with our backs to the walls
we've been working every day and night
waiting for the chance for the day to arrive
and now we've all got something to prove
win or lose, there's only one thing to do
We've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Inside the sweat, inside the heat
in each and every heart there's a pounding beat
to do it wrong, to do it right
each of us has put up, one hell of a fight
and as we face the final test
all that we can do is to do our best
and as we're making time stand still
to get to the top you've got to give all you've got
You've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up
Shine a light and let them see
everything you want to be
Shine a light and let them know
you are never letting go
Rise up... win or lose there's only one thing to do
We've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Rise, and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up, rise up,
over higher mountains, rise,
We've got to rise up.
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~ O’ Peace Why Thirsty? ~
~ O’ PEACE WHY THIRSTY? ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
24 March 23,2010.
'Give Peace a Chance' – Beatles
O’ Peace why thirsty?
Where you’ll get a drop?
Boozed blottoed in
Narconecrotic Narcissism
Emptied hollowedout the
Compassionate pot.
We’re sooty smutty sot
Help from us e'er not
Everywhere is drought
Hah ha woeful we’re not!
O’ Peace why thirsty?
-
Copyright reserved by author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My father was predisposed to drunken rages. I would hide under the bed. My sister and I were talking just the other day about the terror a drunken man in a rage can create in a child.
quote by Antonio Villaraigosa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are two reasons for drinking: one is, when you are thirsty, to cure it; the other, when you are not thirsty, to prevent it.
quote by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Vine
The wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
poem by James Thomson
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes
(peter lafarge)
Gather round me people and a story I will tell
bout a brave young indian lad, you should remember well,
From a tribe of pima indians, a proud and peaceful band
Who farmed the phoenix valley out in arizona land.
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till the white man stole the water rights and the running water hushed.
Iras folks was hungry, their fields grew thick with weeds,
But when war came ira volunteered and forgot the white mans greed.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Well, they battled up iwo jima hill, two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again.
And after the fight was over and old glory proudly raised,
Among the men who held her high was an indian, ira hayes.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Well, ira hayes returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land,
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand.
But hes just a pima indian, no food, no friend, no chance,
And nobody cared what ira did and when do the indians dance.
Well, ira took to drinking hard, jail often was his home,
They used to let him raise the flag there and lower it just like youd throw a dog a bone.
And ira died drunk early one morning all alone in the land hed fought to save.
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Yeah, call him drunken ira hayes, but his land is till as dry
And his ghost, well, thats lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who can’t stop drinking may get drunken three times a month. If he does it more often, he is guilty. To get drunken twice a month is better; once, still more praiseworthy. But not to drink at all - what could be better than this? But where could such a being be found? But if one would find it, it would be worthy of all honour.
quote by Ginghis Han
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Woes
You are thirsty but you can't drink water,
You are hungry but you can't eat food,
Of the horses prepared for the battle!
Like Apollyon, the angel of the bottomless pit.
One woe is past but behold!
There are two more woes after this;
Like the torment of a scorpion when it strikes.
You are thirsty but you can't drink water,
You are hungry but you can't eat food,
And life is all about us on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Also Rise (Homage to Maya Angelou)
I have been used, abused, mistreated, and even overheated, but still I also rise
I have been denied, compromised, and even ostracized, but yet I still also rise
I have been called outdated, jaded, and mutilated, but here I still also rise
I have been hated, mentally castrated, looted, and even been uprooted, but still I also rise
I have been scorned, adorned, and reborn, but yet I still also rise
I have been beaten up, beaten down, and almost ended up underground but yet I also still rise
I have been cheated on, crapped on, and walked on but yet I still also rise
I have been treat as a fool, used as a tool, treated so cruel, but yet I still seem to also rise
I have been neglected, disrespected, rejected, and yes I also rise
I have been a token, my heart has broken, I’ve misspoken, and I still also rise
I have been accused, bruised, refused, confused, and even reused, but I still also rise
I have been pushed to the side, kicked in the backside, been steamed dried, and yes I even cried, but yet I still also rise
I have been slapped in the face, can’t return to my birthplace, entered foreign airspace, and felt a woman’s warm embrace, yet I still also rise
I have been the victim of oppression, obsession, the recession, and a downward transgression but here I still also rise
I have been battered, life shattered, lost everything that mattered, yet I still also rise
I have felt the hurt, treated like dirt, forgetting to stay alert, and for all that it is worth I still will also rise
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Waking Up At 3: 19 A.m.
hungry and thirsty
i am awakened
i switch on the light
and look at my watch
it is 3: 19 a.m and i
am feeling the
unholiness of the hour
hungry and thirsty
i look for food and water
for how long shall i conceal
the truth of my hunger and thirst?
it is not the water and the
sandwich
it is my soul
hungry and thirsty for
God
deep within i am moving
away
like a ship in the middle
of a storm
yet not wanting an anchor
not wanting an island
even a shadow
of the shore
for when will this hunger
and thirst stop
i do not not really know
perhaps
God shall soon
tell me
again about Job.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rise Ye! Rise Ye!
Rise Ye! rise ye! noble toilers! claim your rights with fire and steel!
Rise ye! for the cursed tyrants crush ye with the hiron ’eel!
They would treat ye worse than sl-a-a-ves! they would treat ye worse than brutes!
Rise and crush the selfish tyrants! ku-r-rush them with your hob-nailed boots!
Rise ye rise ye glorious toilers
Rise ye rise ye noble toilers!
Erwake! er-rise!
Rise ye! rise ye! noble toilers! tyrants come across the waves!
Will ye yield the Rights of Labour? will ye? will ye still be sl-a-a-ves?
Rise ye! rise ye! mighty toilers! and revoke the rotten laws!
Lo! your wives go out a-washing while ye battle for the caws!
Rise ye! rise ye glorious toilers!
Rise ye! rise ye noble toilers!
Erwake! er-rise!
Our gerlorious dawn is breaking! Lo! the tyrant trembles now!
He will sta-a-rve us here no longer! toilers will not bend or bow!
Rise ye! rise ye! noble toilers! rise! behold, revenge is near;
See the leaders of the people! come an’ ’ave a pint o’ beer!
Rise ye! rise ye! noble toilers!
Rise ye! rise ye! glorious toilers!
Erwake! er-rise!
Lo! the poor are starved, my brothers! lo! our wives and children weep!
Lo! our women toil to keep us while the toilers are asleep!
Rise ye! rise ye! noble toilers! rise and break the tyrant’s chain!
March ye! march ye! mighty toilers! even to the battle plain!
Rise ye! rise ye! noble toilers!
Rise ye! rise ye! noble toilers!
Erwake! er-r-rise!
poem by Henry Lawson
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A Dry and Thirsty Land
Parched and barren,
A dry and thirsty land
Filled with the haze of death
The forgotten bones of man
The tongue swells in the mouth
The sweat pours out his brow
Weary traveller falling down
Weary traveller dying now
The white bleached bones
The bones of those before
Lie about him spinning round
Bleached bones on the desert floor
His brown shrivelled skin
Turns black under the sun
He is lost and doomed
What is done is done
Thou are cruel, Dry thirsty land,
Slowly killing those who flee
Drying them from the inside
A miserable gutted tragedy
Weary traveller, there is rest
There is rest for you head
There is a place where you can rest
Where you can drink and be fed
Don’t push on any longer
For the dry thirsty land
Will eventually be stronger
Than thy inner man
Come to the one oasis
That inhabits this world
Find the well of water
From which life doth unfurl
Come thou weary and faint
Sojourners in a dry weary place
Come thou empty and dead
Come with all due haste
Come to the well
Strength and energy it gives
Come to the well
If you want to live
Come if you feel tired
Come if you need a refresh
Come if you need life
Come if you want energy afresh
A well for all who wish
A dry and thirsty land
Come thou faint
Come thou weary man
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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