The compact which exists between the North and the South is a covenant with death and an agreement with hell.
quote by William Lloyd Garrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North And South Of The River
I want to reach out over the Loch
And feel your hand across the water
Walk with you along an unapproved road
Not looking over my shoulder
I want to see, and I want to hear
To understand your fears
But we're north and south of the river
I've been doing it wrong all of my life
This holy town has turned me over
A young man running from what he didn't understand
The wind from the Loch just get colder, colder
There was a badness that had its way
But love wasn't lost, love will have its day
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Can we stop playing these old tattoos
Darling I don't have the answer
I want to meet you where you are
I don't need you to surrender
'Cause there's no feeling that's so alone
As when the one you're hurting is your own
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Some high ground is not worth taking
Some connections are not worth making
There's an old church bell no longer ringing
Some old songs are not worth bringing
North...
(Higher ground is not worth taking)
North and south of the river
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North & South Of The River
I want to reach out over the loch
And feel your hand across the water
Walk with you along an unapproved road
Not looking over my shoulder
I want to see, and I want to hear
To understand your fears
But were north and south of the river
Ive been doing it wrong all of my life
This holy town has turned me over
A young man running from what he didnt understand
The wind from the loch just get colder, colder
There was a badness that had its way
But love wasnt lost, love will have its day
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Can we stop playing these old tattoos
Darling I dont have the answer
I want to meet you where you are
I dont need you to surrender
cause theres no feeling thats so alone
As when the one youre hurting is your own
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Some high ground is not worth taking
Some connections are not worth making
Theres an old church bell no longer ringing
Some old songs are not worth bringing
North...
(higher ground is not worth taking)
North and south of the river
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slavery exists. It is black in the South, and white in the North.
quote by Andrew Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The good Christian should beware the mathematician and all those who make empty prophecies. The danger already exists that the mathematicians have made a covenant with the devil to darken the spirit and to confine man in the bonds of hell.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4. Blow me down
The North wind blew on Monday
As the East wind got the flu
The West wind blew on Tuesday
As the South wind never knew
The North East wind had Wednesday
As the South West wasn’t chuffed
The North West blew on Thursday
As the South East hardly puffed
The East and West blew Friday
As the others had a rest
The North and South blew Saturday
As the weekends were the best
The lot of them had Sunday
As the winds turned into storm
The whole of them had Monday off
As the week got back to norm
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Grant—1885
BLESSED are Pain, the smiter,
And Sorrow, the uniter!
For one afflicted lies—
A symboled sacrifice—
And all our rancor dies!
No North, no South! O stern-faced Chief,
One weeping ours, one cowled Grief—-
Thy Country—bowed in prayer and tear—
For North and South—above thy bier!
For North and South! O Soldier grim,
The broken ones to weep for him
Who broke them! He whose terrors blazed
In smoking harvests, cities razed;
Whose Fate-like glance sent fear and chill;
Whose wordless lips spake deathless will—
Till all was shattered, all was lost—
All hands dropped down—all War's red cost
Laid there in ashes—Hope and Hate
And Shame and Glory!
Death and Fate
Fall back! Another touch is thine;
He drank not of thy poisoned wine,
Nor blindly met thy blind-thrown lance,
Nor died for sightless time or chance—
But waited, suffered, bowed and tried,
Till all the dross was purified;
Till every well of hate was dried;
And North and South in sorrow vied,
And then—at God's own calling—died!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Only let the North exert as much moral influence over the South, as the South has exerted demoralizing influence over the North, and slavery would die amid the flame of Christian remonstrance, and faithful rebuke, and holy indignation.
quote by Angelina Grimke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song of the Republic
Sons of the South, awake! arise!
Sons of the South, and do.
Banish from under your bonny skies
Those old-world errors and wrongs and lies.
Making a hell in a Paradise
That belongs to your sons and you.
Sons of the South, make choice between
(Sons of the South, choose true),
The Land of Morn and the Land of E'en,
The Old Dead Tree and the Young Tree Green,
The Land that belongs to the lord and the Queen,
And the Land that belongs to you.
Sons of the South, your time will come –
Sons of the South, 'tis near –
The "Signs of the Times", in their language dumb,
Fortell it, and ominous whispers hum
Like sullen sounds of a distant drum,
In the ominous atmosphere.
Sons of the South, aroused at last!
Sons of the South are few!
But your ranks grow longer and deeper fast,
And ye shall swell to an army vast,
And free from the wrongs of the North and Past
The land that belongs to you.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Hughley Steeple
The vane on Hughley steeple
Veers bright, a far-known sign,
And there lie Hughley people
And there lie friends of mine.
Tall in their midst the tower
Divides the shade and sun,
And the clock strikes the hour
And tells the time to none.
To south the headstones cluster,
The sunny mounds lie thick;
The dead are more in muster
At Hughley than the quick.
North, for a soon-told number,
Chill graves the sexton delves,
And steeple-shadowed slumber
The slayers of themselves.
To north, to south, lie parted,
With Hughley tower above,
The kind, the single-hearted,
The lads I used to love.
And, south or north, 'tis only
A choice of friends one knows,
And I shall ne'er be lonely
Asleep with these or those.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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In Your Mind There Remains Unrest
If you can't see it in the East.
And it can't be seen in the North.
So you look about in the West,
To declare that the South is best.
But,
Yet in your mind there remains unrest.
If you can't see it in the East.
And it can't be seen in the North.
So you look about in the West,
To declare that the South is best.
You seek a model,
In the East.
One you can bottle,
From the North.
To establish a nest,
One picked from the West.
And,
In the South you'll have that house...
Successfully built by an architect.
You seek a model,
In the East.
One you can bottle,
From the North.
To establish a nest,
One picked from the West.
And,
In the South you'll have that house...
Successfully built by an architect.
If you can't see it in the East.
And it can't be seen in the North.
So you look about in the West,
To declare that the South is best.
But,
Yet in your mind there remains unrest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Marriage has a unique place because it speaks of an absolute faithfulness, a covenant between radically different persons, male and female; and so it echoes the absolute covenant of God with his chosen, a covenant between radically different partners.
quote by Rowan D. Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Individuals
In the west we look to the east.
In the east we look to the west.
In the south we look to the north
and in the north we look to the south.
Wherever we are we look to the opposite
for the mystical sunshine
we see in others eyes.
That promise of plenty
everyone seems to have.
Each life is individual
to be lived the same way.
Each will have separate roads
along which to travel.
Each will find something
in what others have declined.
Each will find a path
to the heaven that they seek
as the individuals we are.
20 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Jesus Of Rio
Christ the redeemer towering high over rio
Rio de janeiro, rio
Where they held a summit to save the world
And to mark the time when development
As traditionally understood-had failed
And the affluent north raping the south
Investment from the north means
Economic bondage for the south
Under the burden of debt payments
I was with a whore in copenhagan
Drinking eight hundred dollars worth of
Champagne in kroner
She came from rio
We were trying to save the world
We did not get what we wanted
She wanted money--
She did not get what she wanted
I missed my wife--
I did not get what I wanted
Death sat on my lap
Death sits on all our laps
While christ the redeemer
Towers high over rio
Rio de janeiro. rio
Gordon gano: vocal, organo
Brian ritchie: upright bass
Guy hoffman: drums, pu-ili
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwuakee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Brigidaire General Speaks At The Wedding
the retired general speaks
at the wedding
in an open garden, about marriage,
that one must marry for love
and no other
because when love is gone
then everything is gone
i look at my wife waiting for her turn
to speak
and i am thinking: what if love is gone?
what if love flies out of the window like a black bird
tired of its nest wanting to go and find another island
a new breeding ground
a direction for another migration
away from a very cold season
towards a warmer ground?
i think, one marries more than love,
one makes a promise
for better or for worse, for richer or poorer,
in sickness and in health
till death do us part: one marries not just for love
but for a promise,
for marriage is more than that, it is more than a contract,
it is a covenant,
that we who love, that we sometime
when we fall out of love
looks at the covenant and
abides by what is found there
that we live together, that we are one, and only death can separate us.
the assumption is: love sometimes burns itself, and is consumed
like our bodies that rot, like our bones that turn to dust,
like the life that dies, that the mind that shuts down
i think, i am falling out of love, i think,
i must abide by the covenant.
after the General has spoken
i shake his hand, and make a nod,
i admit, i still have more to say,
but it shall be my wife who must say it.
she signed the covenant too
inside our heart, our souls know it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Now my eyes are turned from the South to the North, and I want to lead one more Expedition. This will be the last... to the North Pole.
quote by Ernest Shackleton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hillside
On a hillside in the North
a drummer boy marches
parading through flying lead
wading through marshes
Thrown in a war
he knows not about
he drums solemly
now there is doubt
In the back of his mind
an itch in his head
he pauses to think
and is a shot in the leg
Lead rushes through veins
but still he drums
Battle Hymn of the Republic
he quietly hums
Twelve years old
his world fades to black
he knows war is Hell
and there's no turning back
In the hillside of the South
a mother trembles
she opens a letter
with Union symbols
'I regret to inform you'
is all she can read
she knows what has happened
and falls to her knees
Her son is concerned
as he hears her cry
he runs from his room
and begins to eye
A package at the door
rips it open with his thumb
his brother had no job
but instead a Union drum
In an act of rage
he runs out the door
carrying the drum
to Hell, and to war
He marches with the drum
blue coveralls donned
He searches for his dad
the Father/Son bond
On a hillside in the South
a father shoots his son
he walks to his kill
and sees what he has done
Sick of fighting
sick of himself
he runs from the war
from Hell, and from death
Sprinting through forest
and thick, heavy fog
he looks over his shoulder
and trips on a log
He tries to stand up
but his leg is broken
he crawls for his life
and prayers are spoken
In the hillside of the South
wife and husband reunite
she thanks God he's alive
and hides him overnight
at three in the morning
a soldier knocks at the door
the husband awakens
and remembers the war
The wife gets up
the soldier steps in
in a war against brothers
no one can win
Searching for the AWOL
he goes through the house
wife goes to husband
and holds close her spouse
The soldier demands she get back
but she won't let go
wife stays with husband
a gunshot echoes
On a hillside in the North
a poem is written
about the Civil War
and this family's decisions
poem by William Blake Beckett
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Yes, hell exists. It is not a fairy tale. One indeed burns there. This hell is not at the end of life. It is here. At the beginning. Hell is what the infant must experience before he gets to us.
quote by Frederick Leboyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Any agreement that you have isn't going to be based on North Korea's intentions or trust.
quote by Mitchell Reiss
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Beneath all differences of doctrine or discipline there exists a fundamental agreement as to the simple, absolute essentials in religion.
quote by Julia Ward Howe
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The Princess: A Medley: O Swallow
O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee.
O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
And dark and true and tender is the North.
O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light
Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill,
And cheep and twitter twenty million loves.
O were I thou that she might take me in,
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart
Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.
Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love,
Delaying as the tender ash delays
To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?
O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown:
Say to her, I do but wanton in the South,
But in the North long since my nest is made.
O tell her, brief is life but love is long,
And brief the sun of summer in the North,
And brief the moon of beauty in the South.
O Swallow, flying from the golden woods,
Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine,
And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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