As I was working I noticed that the way I designed the differential gearing actually created a spare drive that sat directly below the emperor's feet, or where they would be if he were to sit in the chariot.
quote by Kit Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angels Cry, Humans Weep
The angels cry with peace, peacefully and directly,
So God who created them and their wings also cried.
God’s unique work implied clever secrets to uplift his appearance,
God spoke so forgivingly over us, He spoke to the whole city.
The city that angels drive are working too fast,
Their employer is God, who loved the way they are fast.
Humans created those innocent beings in the mud and earth,
Each human propelled the angels towards the Kingdom so dear.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Emperor Of The Highway
I am the emperor of the highway
I wield the universal will
One might chance to overlook on my divineness
Unless Im sitting in the imperial poupe de ville
I am the emperor of the highway
Strapped with foolish mortals such as these
I need never indicate my intentions
I can stop and go and turn just as I please
For I am the emperor of the highway
Hold!
Methinks that thou hast driven too far
I am the royal prince of foreign sports cars
Better that I should drive a wheelchair or jog
Than to be blown off by a regal road hog
I am the emperor of the highway
(where did you ever get that gas sucking pig of a car? )
This time my friend, you are outclassed
(any real man would drive a stick shift)
For my uncle is the duke of the state police
(cut me off again and I will punch your lights out)
And he will place his royal boot upon your ass
(this is my exit, we shall meet another day)
Dont forget whos emperor of the highway
For I am the emperor of the highway!
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me Away From Here
O Krishna! I want to be your Radha
of that delicious love to you
O Giridhar! out of you, nothing is there
the long distance I need to travel
with you, to forget my life;
in my eyes, you bring me
a new vision of wishes
your blue face, that shining
in my eyes, drive me….. drive me
away from this evils world
my chariot needs to be travel
where I lost my way
tie up in life, with broken of sorrows
you be there, nothing will happen
please drive my chariot,
go fast from this world
where nobody disturb us
poem by I.p. Gopikrishnan Pisharody
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The Emperor Of Ice-Cream
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal.
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
poem by Wallace Stevens
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Sceptism and Religion
The eagle is the chariot of God Vishnu.
The bull is the chariot of God Siva.
The lion is the chariot of Goddess Kali.
The mouse is the chariot of God Ganesh.
The peacock is the chariot of God Karthik.
Hanuman is the god incarnate monkey.
The Hindus revere them in images
And ignore them at ease in their live forms.
Sceptism finds no place in religions.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Achilles Agony And Ecstasy (In 8 Parts)
Prelude
I) Hector Storms The Wall
See my chariot run to your ships I'll drive you back to the sea
You came her for gold the wall will not hold
This day was promised to me
The gods are my shield lightning and javelins fly
Soon many will fall we are storming the wall
Stones fall snow from the sky
We will pay with our glory in the fire of battle
Zeus today is mine
Killing all in my way like sheep and like cattle
smashing skulls of all who defy
I spare not the hammer I spare not the sword
This day will ring with my name
None have to chase me let he who will face me
Kill me or die by the sword
II) The Death Of Patroclus
Oh friend of mine
song performed by by Manowar from The Triumph Of Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spare Me A Little Of Your Love
Written by christine mcvie.
Why not lie here in my arms
And listen to the night
You must know you have certain charm
And I feel the time is right
So spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Now I know that I feel much more
Oh in every single way
And its not the same as before
It gets stronger everyday
So spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Now I know how the sun must feel
Every time it shines
And now I know this is real
And I want you to be mine
So spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Just a little bit
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Idiot Boy
Wordsworth
He wandered down the moutain grade
Beyond the speed assigned--
A youth whom Justice often stayed
And generally fined.
He went alone, that none might know
If he could drive or steer.
Now he is in the ditch, and Oh!
The differential gear!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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My child is sick
In the middle of the night
She entered the shop
Where I work and she tells;
'My child is sick and cold outside
Could you please spare me a cardboard box.'
'Certainly I'll give you Madam!
If I am not inquisitive a small question,
Where's the child's father? '
'Since the first World war he never returned
And I heard he stays with Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, British King George V and Emperor Franz Josef of Austria-Hungary.'
I noticed she carefully wrapped her ragged-doll with an old paper
And kept in the box a plastic bottle as a pillow!
-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Spare Me A Little Of Your Love
Why not lie here
In-a my arms
And just listen to the night.
You must know that you have
Certain charms,
And I feel,
And I feel the time is right.
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
And I know that i
Feel much more
In-a
Every single way,
[ended / and its ? ] not the same
As before, it gets
Stronger [stronger],
Stronger every day.
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
Now I know how the
Sun must feel
Every time it shines,
And I know that
This is real and i
Want you to be mine.
So, spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
Come on, spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
One more time,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little,
Spare me a little of your love.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As The Lord Is Ensconced In His Chariot…
o, lord
let thy trundling wheels
crush this ego ridden
chariot of empty bones
of shallow dreams
of lecherous lust
***
o, jagannadh
this bag of flesh
sags under the weight
of uncommon greed
***
squash this clay mould
of imperfection
you moulded more out of habit
in a fleeting
wink of disinterestedness
***
this mould created
to amuse yourself
is entrapped
in the snarl of desire
this vacant structure
is forever fixed in
the net of illusions
this shallow chariot
time and again deviates
from its course…
***
o, lord
pound this particle
under your divine wheels
as your mighty chariot
rolls along the sandy bay
***
redeem it from
all these and more…
25jun2009
03
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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An Array And Plethora
An array and plethora,
Of love...
Is too diverse for me.
I like it,
Directly!
An array and plethora,
Of love...
Is too diverse for me.
I need it,
More directly!
I want to know that which is given,
Has no loopholes I could miss.
I want to know my feelings felt,
Aren't pushed aside to dust on shelves.
An array and plethora,
Of love...
Is too diverse for me.
I like it,
Directly!
When I'm wrapped in a hug,
And my lips are kissed...
I like it,
Directly!
When I see eyes on me melt with mist.
I like this...
Directly!
I like to know that which is given,
Has no loopholes I could miss.
Oh,
I like it more directly.
I like to know that which is given,
Has no loopholes I could miss.
And...
I like it more directly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Biological Valve
One of the most taken for granted parts of our body is the anus in our bottom,
and yet there is hardly a day goes by when it has a chance to be forgotten.
A well-designed and created outlet valve for the release of gases and debris
how thankful we are that we have one to let these products go free.
If your anus doesn't open and you have pain because of it,
or it doesn't stay closed long enough and you wish it had a zip.
Just be grateful that you've got one and that it's working okay
and when musical or pungent wind escapes be happy it got away.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Yes Yes
when God created love he didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
when God created me He created me
when God created the monkey He was asleep
when He created the giraffe He was drunk
when He created narcotics He was high
and when He created suicide He was low
when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountians and the sea and fire at the same time
He made some mistakes
but when He created you lying in bed
He came all over His Blessed Universe.
Submitted by .eve.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Best Emperor!
Besides poet, people birds, animals too love freedom;
Lion may be king of jungle but elephant is emperor!
This big, best emperor called gentle giant is humble
And accepts to bless devotes, escort Temple deities!
This huge animal emperor is kept as van in temple slot,
A humiliating sight to see, yet it humbly accepts the role!
For stomach satisfying food emperor surrenders, serves
And sustains with faith and gratitude to men and God!
A wonder to see freedom loving natural animal living so!
Is it a fate or destiny for the best emperor to live so here?
Child like and divine looking elephant is chiseled as God
Called as Lord Ganesha is animal, man and divine in one!
When will this big, best emperor get freedom from man
Know not, think I, whenever I see standing before Temple?
poem by Ramesh T A
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Stranded (Lyrics)
Your waves come crashing down
Like a semi-auto trailer
I dive so deep in the sea
To avoid killer whales
A perfect moment here and gone
It has sailed
I'll use a hammerhead to drive
Rusty nail inside
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
Imagine if our world was blue and weightless
I never meant to do wrong to you
You're my starfish
You moan a tone so low beyond me
A telepathic sub-sonic frequency
I need a little air for emergency
You have to understand this urgency
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
A sea anemone, you're my enemy
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Of De Witt Williams On His Way To Lincoln Cemetery
He was born in Alabama.
He was bred in Illinois.
He was nothing but a
Plain black boy.
Swing low swing low sweet sweet chariot.
Nothing but a plain black boy.
Drive him past the Pool Hall.
Drive him past the Show.
Blind within his casket,
But maybe he will know.
Down through Forty-seventh Street:
Underneath the L,
And Northwest Corner, Prairie,
That he loved so well.
Don’t forget the Dance Halls—
Warwick and Savoy,
Where he picked his women, where
He drank his liquid joy.
Born in Alabama.
Bred in Illinois.
He was nothing but a
Plain black boy.
Swing low swing low sweet sweet chariot.
Nothing but a plain black boy.
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
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If It's Love!
It's important that unshown love,
Comes directly shown from you.
To say it...
Doesn't make,
That-love-be-true!
It's important that unshown love,
Is a thing one wants to do...
Just to prove what is said,
Is absolutely true.
A hug,
And maybe a kiss.
A touch,
That has been missed.
A show of thoughtfulness...
Can go a very long distance.
A call,
Every once in a while...
Will go further than a mile.
If love is there to be shared...
Show someone they are cared for!
And doubts will come no more.
It's important that unshown love,
Comes directly shown from you.
To say it...
Doesn't make,
That-love-be-true!
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love.
Yes!
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love.
Yes!
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love!
It shoos a boo-hooin'...
Known.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love!
A hug,
And maybe a kiss.
A touch,
That has been missed.
A show of thoughtfulness...
Can go a very long distance.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Achilles at Troy
The walls of the enemy city believed by them
to be made by the gods,
rise up in front of us
stripped, empty like hills,
looking impregnable
and higher up I see some archers
with their armour shining in the midday heat
rising bows and shooting arrows into the sky
believing, wishing and praying to hit one of us.
I drive with my chariot far out of their reach,
around and around the city, as if inspecting it
for any frailty, a place to penetrate with force
searching for Hector
while fierce fighting is going on
and anger, great rage roars within my heart
when at the main gate I stop and wait,
before roaring at the top of my voice
for Hector to come out, to face me.
My black steel shield, my black steel armour
my great spear, my bow and sword
are at the ready and I am implacable
watching, willing for the main gate to open
and see a lizard basking in the sun on a nearby rock,
as it probably has done since being born,
my heart is torn by the death
of my familiar one,
Patroclus my companion and friend
and in pain I roar again
calling Hector a coward and a fool
and my small army
of brave Myrmidons gather around me
heading of the enemy, killing scores of them
banging their swords on their shields
every time I call the name out
of the Champion of Troy
and like me they are ready to destroy.
Again I give reigns to the horses
driving at speed with my chariot
around the city inspecting
the fighting men more carefully
and nowhere I can see Hector,
nowhere I find him destroying our own
and on the third time
I spot him taking on three men
and killing them
and at speed jump from the chariot
with spear, sword and shield
and like a thunder falling from the sky
I land solidly right next to him
and he wards of my first, my second blow
even stopping my great spear
thrown with all my might,
but in the frenzy of it all
I see an opening made by his shield
and dropping my shield
with both hands directly
drive my sword in, in a stabbing blow
and catch him in the throat
leaping back picking up my shield and spear
and stab, stab from behind the shield
killing Hector with fierce blows
and I gather my great sword
drawing it from him
and tie him behind my chariot
before fully armed
I jump into it
and drive away
dragging the Champion of Troy
around and around the great
impregnable city while roaring
loud as thunder
with a blood bedecked spear above my head.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Exclusion (The soul selects her own society)
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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