As long as a word remains unspoken, you are its master; once you utter it, you are its slave.
quote by Solomon Ibn Gabirol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As long as a word remains unspoken, you are it's master once you utter it, you are it's slave.
quote by Solomon Ibn Gabirol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 02
It is said that a gentleman possessed a slave of exquisite beauty, whom he regarded with love and affection. He nevertheless said to a friend: ‘Would that this slave of mine, with all the beauty and good qualities he possesses, had not a long and uncivil tongue!’ He replied: ‘Brother, do not expect service, after professing friendship; because when relations between lover and beloved come in, the relations between master and servant are superseded’:
When a master with a fairy-faced slave
Begins to play and to laugh
What wonder if the latter coquets like the master
And the gentleman bears it like a slave?
A slave is to draw water and make bricks.
A pampered slave will strike with the fist.
While the word is yet unspoken, you are master of it; when once it is spoken, it is master of you.
Slave 2 The System
Slave) {repeat in song}
Slave, yeah {x2}
Slave 2 the system here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
The only penthouse I can count on's a big black ball and chain
Slave 2 the system, the future's all arranged
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy {x2}
Slave 2 the system
Thompson's my last name, but my daddy's name is Lloyd
The farther back I trace it, the more it becomes null and void
All my life I've struggled just 2 be called a boy
Slave 2 the system, oh what a joy
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy
Hell if I do!
(Oh, U better fetch that water, boy)
Oh, I'm just a slave 2 the system
Here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
Slave 2 the system
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Slave And Pleaser
i will only tell
what you want to hear,
tell me what is it
what is it that makes you whole
and i will
utter it,
tell me what is missing
and i will fill it
i do not play with hints
it will leave you hanging
like a frozen tear
to your cheek at winter time
i like the summer in us
in full bloom
if you want me to utter love
surely i will not waste a second
if you wish upon a star
i will make more
you will not regret having me here
i am a slave and i shall please you
do not ask for the truth
i am a slave and i shall always please you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not My Goddess
Unspoken
Unbroken
Remains nothing
Verbally
Remains something
Physically
As long as words don't follow
And there are no documents
Of our secret connection
Then it does not exist
But like a god
I shall have faith in it without the material proof
Your not my goddess
Your my fellow believer
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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The slave loves his master
It is a pleasure
For a master to command his slave.
It is a pleasure
For a slave to attend his master’s call.
The difference is
That the slave’s pleasure is for love.
30.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Term
At the last minute a word is waiting
not heard that way before and not to be
repeated or ever be remembered
one that always had been a household word
used in speaking of the ordinary
everyday recurrences of living
not newly chosen or long considered
or a matter for comment afterward
who would ever have thought it was the one
saying itself from the beginning through
all its uses and circumstances to
utter at last that meaning of its own
for which it had long been the only word
though it seems now that any word would do
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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Ode to Death
in the end
we all bid
farewell
to ourselves
in the cold
the world a stage
everybody has
to play no,
not Shakespeare's
suggested single role
but a double role
master and slave
this physique
that stoically
bids us
do its chores
for all its needs
physical, spiritual
the most exacting partner
one would ever get
a quiet stoic bullier
and after all the slavery tasks
the master leaves
the slave in the cold
a cold that freezes
in the finest of weather
without the snow
the blizzard
deep into everybody's heart, soul
the master and slave
a marriage made in heaven
till death do us part
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Uselessness In Arguing About The Proper Use Of Words
those that discuss much about words
and how properly they must be used
how grammar is murdered and
sentences dis-edified must have no talent
to pursue into
actual use without complaint as to what
must be and could have been
in fact words are not pillars
where buildings stand and become castles
words in truth only serve within that curve
beyond this fence
and walls
words cannot go over and
penetrate
those that you think and remember
and keep forever
no word has ever conquered
sometimes
mouth-less it cannot utter
speechless in air
unrecognizable anymore in the word of those
unspoken
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Slave Wants To Be So
A slave is a slave as he is in love.
As slave he’s assured that he is secure.
His master can be a possessive wife,
A caring mother or a beloved child.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Slave girls on Gor address all free men as Master, though, of course only one such would be her true Master.
quote by John Norman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silky Touch
Silky touch
The feather might give
Remember, still in your heart
I reside I do live.
In God you may believe
The reflection of his creation is you
It's him in you
Wish, I forever see.
Flowers may spread fragrance
For me it's your presence
Whose each unspoken word remains
my only remembrance.
You may be a dream so pure
Sounds indeed, but strange
Yet your identity is true as life I know
For your absence itself portrays your existence everywhere.
poem by Karan Baadkar
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Rescue The Slave
This song was composed while George Latimer, the fugitive slave, was
confined in Leverett Street Jail, Boston, expecting to be carried back
to Virginia by James B. Gray, his claimant.
Sadly the fugitive weeps in his cell,
Listen awhile to the story we tell;
Listen ye gentle ones, listen ye brave,
Lady fair! Lady fair! weep for the slave.
Praying for liberty, dearer than life,
Torn from his little one, torn from his wife,
Flying from slavery, hear him and save,
Christian men! Christian men! help the poor slave.
Think of his agony, feel for his pain,
Should his hard master e'er hold him again;
Spirit of liberty, rise from your grave,
Make him free, make him free, rescue the slave.
Freely the slave master goes where he will;
Freemen, stand ready, his wishes to fulfil,
Helping the tyrant, or honest or knave,
Thinking not, caring not, for the poor slave.
Talk not of liberty, liberty is dead;
See the slave master's whip over our head;
Stooping beneath it, we ask what he craves,
Boston boys! Boston boys! catch me my slaves.
Freemen, arouse ye, before it's too late;
Slavery is knocking, at every gate,
Make good the promise, your early days gave,
Boston boys! Boston boys! rescue the slave.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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When The Morning Comes
when the morning comes
and you wake up first
and i am still left naked
beside these white
stained cover sheets
you know i will follow
you in the kitchen
where breakfast is
ready prepared by
your own hands
we look at each other
again this time
new eyes new memories
new anticipations
new love, new selves
new covenants
new promises
old memories,
revivals, reminiscings
we remember last night
when the hugs were tighter
when the sleep was sounder
than ever
what word will i say?
what word? will you tell me?
you hand it my coffee
and you sip yours
no cup is cold
and the brew runs wild
to the top of the ceiling
what word will i say?
our eyes speak.
we sip each other's presence.
the words are useless.
they must remain unspoken
we confess our love
this morning. the words are useless.
they must remain unspoken
our hearts are full.
and then we smile. we sip our souls.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unspoken
Unspoken
By: Adam M. Snow
You torment me with your bladed tongue;
if only you knew my life is left unsung.
Now I am broken;
blind, and left unspoken;
with my dreams shattered by you;
for now I know not what to do.
I am left with a voice of silence;
all alone in the distance.
My words I want to say remains unspoken;
for I wonder, 'Will I ever be unbroken? '
Your words still scorn my soul;
for it feels that I am left to rot in this hole.
You showed me your heart of ice;
yet I ask, 'Is my life the price? '
Your bladed tongue pierced my heart;
all because of you, I have fallen apart.
You speak of broken truth;
yet you say I am uncouth.
You push me away and call me a freak;
for all you have done, now silence is what I speak.
I am a ghost with words left unspoken;
standing over my essence, shattered and broken.
Your words are torment;
is this not your intent?
I am tainted by your selfishness;
for my feelings I cannot express.
I am broken because of you;
I only wish you knew.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Sonnet: The Word of God
The Word of God has unrivaled power;
No act of Satan can it antagonize;
God chooses men and time like rain shower;
His chosen sheep, their Master recognize.
The Word of God pervades Heaven and Earth;
It finally triumphs when Doomsday comes;
To get it done, there is no person’s dearth;
Heaven’s reward for upright soul’s handsome.
The Bible tells of future things to come,
And warns and guides the people to live right;
It is not true that God remains quite dumb;
God helps each one, his temptations to fight.
The Word of God cannot go wrong at all;
Satan and his bad angels surely fall.
6-7-2001
poem by John Celes
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No slave is a slave to the same lengths, and in so full a sense of the word, as a wife is.
quote by John Stuart Mill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Power of Words
An unspoken word is only a thought.
So many things we need to hear in life.
So many thoughts go unspoken.
They lay dormant in the abyss of our minds.
Like a flower that never blooms.
When spoken they spring into action.
They give life.
Flowers bloom in spring.
Spring is the season of love.
Let your words be like spring every day.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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