I kept quiet for eight years. I did not want to hurt the church.
quote by Jessica Hahn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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about the ash from Yuri N., she writes it
I once knew
a lady at our church
who played the piano -
Her name was Naomi...
she was quiet,
maybe insignificant...
but I knew her
(only from church) ...
when I heard one Sunday
that she had died
and had been buried
without me knowing,
I grieved for days....
that was 8 years ago...
I still sometimes
think of her,
thinking that,
in some way
she enriched my life -
I cannot remember
her piano-playing,
but I still grieve
nevertheless....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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91
about the ash from Yuri N., she writes it
I once knew
a lady at our church
who played the piano -
Her name was Naomi...
she was quiet,
maybe insignificant...
but I knew her
(only from church) ...
when I heard one Sunday
that she had died
and had been buried
without me knowing,
I grieved for days....
that was 8 years ago...
I still sometimes
think of her,
thinking that,
in some way
she enriched my life -
I cannot remember
her piano-playing,
but I still grieve
nevertheless....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Quiet Room
(Alice Cooper / Bernie Taupin / Dick Wagner)
The California air
Your nightgown on the stairs
I remember every night
Scenes from home in the Quiet Room
How long have I been gone
Did winter kill the lawn
And all those polaroids you sent
Are on the wall in the Quiet Room
They've got this place
Where they've been keeping me
Where I can't hurt myself
I can't get my wrists to bleed
Just don't know why
Suicide appeals to me
The Quiet Room
Is sterilized and white
It's like a tomb
With just a moth stained naked night
Plastic forks and spoon
No laces in my shoes
They allknow what I tried to do
Outside the Quiet Room
This quiet place
It ain't so new to me
It's haunted atmosphere
Has heard so many scream
My home from home
My twilight zone
My strangest dream
My confidant
I have confessed my life
The Quiet Room
Knows more about me than my wife
They've got this place
Where they've been keeping me
Where I can't hurt myself
I just can't
I just can't get these damn wrists to bleed
A mattress on the floor
No handles on the door
I really need nothing here
I'm alone
---------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After All Said And Done.
After Friday choir practice
in the church
after the other members
had gone to the vestry
to ready themselves for home
she stood in the darkened church
looking at the altar
and the high windows
where only moonlight
shone through
and she said to you
we'll stand here one day
and get married maybe
and say our vows
and there will be
our families and friends
and the parson will say
kiss the bride and you will
and she smiled
and looked at you
standing in the quiet church
and you said
some years off maybe
we're only fourteen
and still at school
and we've got to get pass
your mother yet
like trying to get a ball
by a fat goalie
who fills the net
but she just shook her head
and smiled and said
don't be so negative
look on the positive side
look to the future
with bright eyes
and it seems strange now
and sad to look back
at that night
with you and she
standing in that aisle
in semi-dark
while outside
in the night sky
fate was working out
a different answer
where you
would marry others
and she would die
from cancer.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Contrasts
I see the tall church steeples,
They reach so far, so far,
But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart,
Where the starving people are.
I hear the church bells ringing
Their chimes on the morning air;
But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear
The poor man’s cry of despair.
Thicker and thicker the churches,
Nearer and nearer the sky –
But alack for their creeds while the poor man’s needs
Grow deeper as years roll by.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mist In The Valley
These hills, to hurt me more,
That am hurt already enough,—
Having left the sea behind,
Having turned suddenly and left the shore
That I had loved beyond all words, even a song's words, to
convey,
And built me a house on upland acres,
Sweet with the pinxter, bright and rough
With the rusty blackbird long before the winter's done,
But smelling never of bayberry hot in the sun,
Nor ever loud with the pounding of the long white breakers,—
These hills, beneath the October moon,
Sit in the valley white with mist
Like islands in a quiet bay,
Jut out from shore into the mist,
Wooded with poplar dark as pine,
Like points of land into a quiet bay.
(Just in the way
The harbour met the bay)
Stricken too sore for tears,
I stand, remembering the Islands and the sea's lost sound—
Life at its best no longer than the sand-peep's cry,
And I two years, two years,
Tilling an upland ground!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Are You
Im all grown up
But somehow, it feels like Im pretending
Visions of my younger years, they are buried
But the scenes that play inside of me, are impending
They are never ending...
Chorus:
Where, where, where, where, where are you?
You dont have to look out that window, anymore.
You can just come back to yourself, you can come back to this world.
Where are you? tell me who heard you. and where are you?
He led me into his room, and had me lay down
My heart, and my soul, and anything else that you could own,
When youre six years old.
But now Im older
(chorus)
Such a quiet secret, it hurt too much trying hard to keep it.
Oh, and I looked up to you... I wanted so much to believe in you.
I wanted so much for you to believe it me.
Oh I tried, I tried.
Where, where, where, where, where are you?
You dont have to look out anymore.
I dont have to look out of that window anymore.
I can just, come back to myself, I can come back this world
Where are you? tell me who heard you? and where are you now?
Where are you? where are you? where are you? where are you?
Tell me who hurt you.
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child Was Hurt
When I was a child you hurt me.
I was nothing but a mere girl.
I was only 5 years old.
I couldnt fight you couldnt fend you off.
A child was hurt.
A child was hurt for your fantasies.
That child was me.
I was only a wee girl.
A child was hurt.
It used to be a cool place to play.
It once was my faviorate place to go.
But you took that from me.
As well as raping me.
A child was hurt.
You said it was a game.
I knew it was rong.
It didnt feel right.
I begged you to stop.
You looked laughed and carried in.
A child was hurt.
A child was hurt.
I was so much smaller than you.
You towered over me.
You had the power.
And you didnt care.
A child was hurt
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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"Now do be quiet, woman! The church is in a man's conscience, and when I'm dead, I'll lie by the church for ever," father said. "Don't you carry on in this way like the hypocritical Pharisee. Rather beat your breast and say as the publican did: Lord, be gracious unto me a sinner who am worrying the life out of my husband and wasting my breath in vain."
Ion Creangă in Memories of My Boyhood (Amintiri din copilărie) (1889)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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White Hot Day
Instrumental version called bass line
In time, only time, speak for time, in time
Time calls, time cries, sweet friend of mine
Time could be a place, a spirit and a face
Teardrops through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation speaks in time
The beauty of it is, to waken up to
Shake the hand of time
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the years, hold back the years
Time calls, time cries, sounds like a friend of mine
Time will run to meet, the slick and shiny beat
That creeps to me through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation sleeps in time
The beauty of it is
Well wake up to, shake the hand of time
In time, only time, in time, only time
In time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
Time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain and Hurt
born in to pain and hurt
growing in pain and hurt
living in pain and hurt
sleeping in pain and hurt
waking in pain and hurt
cuting in pain and hurt
bleeding in pain and hurt
crying in pain and hurt
i know nothing other then pain and hurt
i use drugs to end the pain and hurt
but all i get is pain and hurt
is there nothing other then pain and hurt
in this painful and hurtful world?
poem by Anna Sprague
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger On A Quiet Street
When all the thrills have been forgotten
The chill of night can call them home
And all the dreams that you left stranded
Will slowly start to come along
I felt it as she slipped away, slipped away
I didnt have the words to say
When I saw the stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
You can go straight as an arrow
You can go straight as you dare
Walkin the old straight and narrow
Dont always get you there
The sun was shining when I saw it all
She was moving to a different beat
When I met a stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
It came to me out of the blue, out of the blue
There came the moment that I really knew
When I met a stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street, on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Better Part
THERE'S a grey old church on a wind-swept hill
Where three bent yew trees cower,
The gipsy roses grow there still,
And the thyme and Saint John's gold flower,
The pale blue violets that love the chalk
Cling light round the lichened stone,
And starlings chatter and grey owls talk
In the belfry o' nights alone.
It's a thousand leagues and a thousand years
From the brick-built, gas-lit town
To the little church where the wild thyme hears
The bees and the breeze of the down.
The town is crowded and hard and rough;
Let those fight in its press who will--
But the little churchyard is quiet enough,
And there's room in the churchyard still.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Cry
Give me time
To realize my crime
Let me love and steal
I have danced inside your eyes
How can I be real
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Precious kisses
Words that burn me
Lovers never ask you why
In my heart
The fires burning
Choose my color
Find a star
Precious people always tell me
That's a step
A step too far
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Words are few
I have spoken
I could waste a thousand years
Wrapped in sorrow
Words are token
Come inside and catch my tears
You've been talking but believe me
If its true
You do not know
This boy loves without a reason
I'm prepared to let you go
If its love you want from me
Then take it away
Everything is not what you see
It's over again
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry
Do you really want to hurt me
Do you really want to make me cry...
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Lost It All
I lost it all
Waisting twenty years in a church
Thinking I was serving a God,
Too late did I realise
There was never a God in a church.
The God I knew made me
Lives right in my heart,
And my righteousness keeps Him there
.
I lost it all
Wasting so many years
Ahering to religious doctrines
Thought by religious hipocrites.
But too late did I realise
That religion has only been brought
To confuse us.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hurt
(words & music by j.crane - a. jacobs)
Im so hurt to think that you lied to me
Im hurt way down deep inside of me
You said our love was true
And well never, never part
Now youve got someone new
And it breaks my heart
Im hurt, much more than youll ever know
Yes darling, Im so hurt
Because I still love you so
Even though you hurt me
Like nobody else could ever do
I would never hurt, hurt you
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Best Years Of My Life (Album Version)
(Will Jennings/Stephen Allen Davis)
Everytime I feel how life goes by
I recall the scenes that never die
One fine day
One fine night
You loving me
On and on and on
We took our love as far as love can go
You've given me the best years of my life
When I play my memories again
I feel all the pleasure and the pain
Love can hurt
Love can heal
Oh, how we hurt and healed ourselves again
We took our souls as far as souls can go
You've given me the best years of my life
You've given me the best years of my life
Bring on the storm
We'll see it through
We'll take it all
All life can do
Right to the end
We'll say let's begin
You've given me the best years of my life
I wanna thank you
I wanna thank you
You've given me the best years of my life
I wanna thank you
For the best years of my life
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God’s Final Remnant
Judgment will start in God’s Church, among all men who weekly perch,
Upon the pews looking their best, for some, only how they’re dressed.
In God’s Judgment, sound and sure, all false believers will not endure,
Those who have knowingly denied, to make heart change deep inside.
God will sift the Soldiers of Christ, from all who have no changed life,
Judging those, who do not belong, to His True Blood Bought Throng.
Just like the sheep and the goats, judging him, who spiritually gloats,
Through exalting them self, in pride, above those, who in Christ abide.
Some with a pure and contrite heart, serving God and doing their part,
Are at times hurt by others within, Christ’s Body when they tolerate sin,
And some, may not even belong, ignoring what we deem to be wrong,
Causing much hurt and undue strife, to members who truly love Christ.
How long will God’s Spirit contend, with all those who merely pretend,
That they belong to Christ’s Church, even without a true spiritual birth?
Bringing a Body that bears His name, time and again, hurt and shame,
Unconverted souls women and men, in the Church but not Born Again.
A remnant, God had used before, and a remnant, He’ll use once more,
This, at the end of this present age, before Christ turns that final page,
God will end with a remnant of those, who truly follow Christ who rose,
A final remnant, who truly believed, in the One, who they truly received.
(Copyright ©09/2009)