I am in suspense as to the probable or improbability of being called into the Army, a station I would prefer to any other that of being in arms to defend an injured and grossly insulted country.
quote by John Sevier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Probable Cause
[Grand Puba]
Uhh.. yeah.. then they say
Probable cause (uh-huh) probable cause (yeah)
You don't have to break no laws
They say probable cause (probable cause)
Probable cause (yeah) probable cause
You don't have to break no laws
They say probable cause (word)
Now who's this nigga in the 4.6?
About twenty to five
song performed by by Brand Nubian from Foundation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not long ago, if you wanted to seize political power in a country you had merely to control the army and the police. Today it is only in the most backward countries that fascist generals, in carrying out a coup d'état, still use tanks. If a country has reached a high degree of industrialization the whole scene changes. The day after the fall of Khrushchev, the editors of Pravda, Izvestiia, the heads of the radio and television were replaced; the army wasn't called out. Today a country belongs to the person who controls communications.
quote by Umberto Eco
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Meet Me At The Station
(brother williams memphis sanctified singers)
Well if I get to heaven before you do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, mother dear, for you
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Well if my eyes see the glory, before yours do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, father, for you
I will meet you at the station whe your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Now if my feet touch the homeline before yours do
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, my brother, for you
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Now if you see gods country before I do
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
Will you be there watching, sister, for me
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
When my train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
Sister, when my train comes along
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
Oh, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching the Nurses Station
Sometimes, it seems so funny
Looking at the nurses station
From my fathers hospital room
When he's in the hospital
Once in a while one will hay hi
And they probable feel funny
But, what can you do about it
When his room is right aacross
From the nurses station
The chair is set just right
Do that you can see them
And you're not looking at them
You're just looking that way
poem by Jerry Abrahamson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We shall suffer no attachment to literature, no taste for abstract discussion, no love of purely intellectual theories, to seduce us from our devotion to the cause of the oppressed, the down trodden, the insulted and injured masses of our fellow men.
quote by George Ripley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Least said soonest mended
Least said soonest mended
I am condemned to wonder why
I cannot make an apt reply.
When someone has insulted me.
I find I can quite easily
but only when it is too late
Why can’t I just retaliate?
when someone has insulted me.
At the time immediately.
Perhaps I’m taken by surprise
perhaps because I am too wise.
When someone has insulted me
to take the insult seriously.
Though I must say in self defence
I am not quick to take offence
when some one has insulted me
I hold on to my dignity.
I will not be an easy mark
to be hurt by some chance remark.
Perhaps they weren’t insulting me
but merely meant to disagree
I simply smile and let it go
I do not really want to know.
If they were insulting me.
It hasn’t worked as they can see.
20-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This thing called Patriot Act, through which we abdicated a lot of our civil rights to defend the country against terrorism, it's a four-year story.
quote by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Defend New Zealand
God of Nations at Thy feet,
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free land.
Guard Pacific's triple star
From the shafts of strife and war,
Make her praises heard afar,
God defend New Zealand.
Men of every creed and race,
Gather here before Thy face,
Asking Thee to bless this place,
God defend our free land.
From dissension, envy, hate,
And corruption guard our State,
Make our country good and great,
God defend New Zealand.
Peace, not war, shall be our boast,
But, should foes assail our coast,
Make us then a mighty host,
God defend our free land.
Lord of battles in Thy might,
Put our enemies to flight,
Let our cause be just and right,
God defend New Zealand.
Let our love for Thee increase,
May Thy blessings never cease,
Give us plenty, give us peace,
God defend our free land.
From dishonour and from shame,
Guard our country's spotless name,
Crown her with immortal fame,
God defend New Zealand.
May our mountains ever be
Freedom's ramparts on the sea,
Make us faithful unto Thee,
God defend our free land.
Guide her in the nation's van,
Preaching love and truth to man,
Working out Thy glorious plan,
God defend New Zealand.
poem by Thomas Bracken
Submitted by anonym
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Insulted
Insulted?
Not!
No longer am I.
I stuck focused,
With determination.
My heart would not abandoned...
A desire craved,
Within me gnawed.
And tight jawed I stayed,
On a path others said...
I was delusional and crazed.
But no delusion were the gifts,
To me The Almighty,
From birth to me gave!
Insulted?
Not!
No longer am I.
And...
At least I tried,
Not to show it!
And today with a growth,
I've been blessed to display.
I could care less who insulted me.
Whether or not,
It is known I know it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Army, O, My Army!
My Army, O, my army! The time I dreamed of comes!
I want to see your colours; I want to hear your drums!
I heard them in my boyhood when all men’s hearts seemed cold;
I heard them as a Young Man—and I am growing old!
My army, O, my army! The signs are manifold!
My army, O, my army! My army and my Queen!
I used to sing your battle-songs when I was seventeen!
They came to me from ages, they came from far and near;
They came to me from Paris, they came to me from Here!—
They came when I was marching with the Army of the Rear.
My Queen’s dark eyes were flashing (oh, she was younger then!);
My Queen’s Red Cap was redder than the reddest blood of men!
My Queen marched like an Amazon, with anger manifest—
Her dark hair darkly matted from a knifegash in her breast
(For blood will flow where milk will not—her sisters knew the rest).
My legions ne’er were listed, they had no need to be;
My army ne’er was trained in arms—’twas trained in misery!
It took long years to mould it, but war could never drown
The shuffling of my army’s feet in the hunger-haunted town—
A little child was murdered, and so Tyranny went down.
My army kept no order, my army kept no time;
My army dug no trenches, yet died in dust and slime;
Its troops were fiercely ignorant, as to the manner born;
Its clothes were rags and tatters, or patches worn and torn—
Ah, me! It wore a uniform that I have often worn!
The faces of my army were ghastly as the dead;
My army’s cause was Hunger, my army’s cry was “Bread!”
It called on God and Mary and Christ of Nazareth;
It cried to kings and courtesans that fainted at its breath—
Its women beat their poor, flat breasts where babes had starved to death.
My army! My army—I hear the sound of drums
Above the roar of battles—and, lo! my army comes!
Nor creed of man may stay it—nor war, nor nation’s law—
The pikes go through the firing-lines as pitchforks go through straw—
Like pitchforks through the litter, while empires stand in awe.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Killer Inferno at Sivakasi
The killer inferno is a great tragedy
At the fire works manufacturing factory,
It is situated in Sivakasi, Tamil Nadu, India,
Which is called as the ‘Little Japan of India'.
In our country it is the unit best,
And in the world ‘tis the second largest;
While we thus raise the collar,
The powerful explosions are a shock caller.
Many people died in the raging blaze,
And many were injured in the smoking haze;
Thirty-five persons were charred to death,
And more than seventy were injured in health.
In small sheds workers were over crowding,
Above the limits the raw materials were in dumping;
There exist prescribed rules and regulations,
But many were the norms that were in violations.
Let us cogitate over the fire-works,
As jeopardy to many lives therein lurks;
All fire-works in display should be hated,
As large sums of money are truly wasted.
To the kin of the injured and deceased,
Ex-gratia money was given and eased;
To the many precious lives lost,
Can this ever be an equal cost?
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Underground Army
Ill be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Lost in your spirit
Rolling down hills
But you cannot see you are
Nothing makes sense when everything else is
Finding the downside
Think of the faith were running out of days
Well get through the meantime
The road is long no forces drove home
But you will be all right
And I will feel better when you feel better
Ill be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Go first in all that you do
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
You cant just love you and let you through
You seek out whenever home
So Ill stick around and help you figure out
These situations coming through
Weve come to an end and there is much to defend
And I will feel better when you feel better
Ill be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Go first in all that you do
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Woah woah
I said Id be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Go first in all that you do
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Oooohh Woooaaah
I said Ill feel better when you feel better
song performed by by Anastacia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The real heroes
Bearing the rage of elements
Far from their loved ones
Exposing their lives to danger
Yet remain firm and dedicated
To the safety of the country
They are real heroes who wake up in the night
When we are in the bed
They toil at the border
When we enjoy with our family
They also have families and friends
They also pine for them
But country is a priority for them
They forget everything for the sake of the country
They live for the country
And they die for the country
They are not among them who never miss
A single chance to earn money
And yet called heroes
These so called heroes put the honour
Of the country at stake
But our soldiers put their live at stake
To save the country from embarrassment
They are the pillars of the country.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gains to both the invader and the invaded
Long long ago
So long ago
No one knows how long ago
There ruled a king
By name Vasanthasena
Who had an army
That was not trained
To fight enemies
And had no weaponry
They had no training camps
They had done no testing of missiles
They were just at the border
Guarding the great nation
The only thing they knew was
How to keep them self- amused
They had fun and frolic
Their main training input was
How to keep enthusiastic
Happy and innovative
How to keep laughing
Energetic and enthused
Came once an external army
To engulf and capture
The country
Our cheerful army
Greeted them
Made them feel
They have not come to fight
But to get united
With the cheers and laughter
Dropped their weapons
Joined the greeting cheerful warriors
Enjoyed the hospitality
Of the king Vasanthasena
The so called invaders
Lost track of their mission
Got dissolved in the happiness
Of the country to be invaded
They understood
If weapons win war
With a lot blood shed, miseries and loss
Love and togetherness win hearts
With no loss
But gains to both the
Invader and the invaded
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being a star has made it possible for me to get insulted in places where the average Negro could never hope to go and get insulted.
quote by Sammy Davis, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is It The Station Of' The Lost and Lonely Soul…?
Where is the peace…?
In the whirring's of my mind,
Cartwheel after cartwheel
Even in these depths of rem sleep,
There is no slumber.
…Dreams come thick and fast:
As the snoring, begins its thunder…
Why, even now the world whistles
In the silence of this nightmare my lord
And even now, sleeping, hot-pulses
Race like a train, with a dead river
On board rolling through, empty-carriages.
O' now babies are being born …wailing
In my arms, awaiting, their mother.
'Lord what's this crazy station, called'?
Here where plastic surgeons…
Is working-out of' a dusty bivouac?
Doing, jigsaw body-part transplants.
With all these sights and sounds,
Now grinning, Lord, what are all these
Experimental insanities, for…?
O' am I just a mangy-dog running loose off the leash?
Where days blink-out of a bird-cage
O' here I see an albatross following me overhead.
O' lord, I call him my own Damien angel
But, lord he just walks-on the millet's of my life
Crushes it without morals, he's just a playful widow.
Making all kinds; of mischief with the living and dead.
'And, I'm just a red-flag, ready to fall…
Lord what's this crazy station, called'?
Am I just a mangy-dog running loose off your leash?
Listening to the silence; whistling endlessly mad.
Experimental insanities, whistling's endlessly mad like a thief.
In my head 'Lord what's this crazy station, called'?
Is it the station of' The Lost and Lonely Soul…?
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Possibilities
I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.
poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dig in
There is no other way.
Once that way has been,
Removed from suspense.
And in one's mind
Begins to deepen,
With a revealing
Pointless to defend!
Dig in,
And get those benefits received.
Forget about that which was taught,
And thought.
Would be so easy.
As if just to wish.
All fantasies one would quickly get.
Dig in,
And get those benefits received.
Forget about that which was taught
By those.
Live to get rich people.
Who wanted to make it look as if,
Not a finger.
Anyone had to lift!
When something is deserved,
It comes to those who do the work.
Very few people
Get from giving hands,
Clean and clear of a sign of dirt.
People deserving are those who work.
People who struggle,
Are not unaccustomed
Of facing their own troubles.
And often are the ones,
Receiving their 'good luck'
Doubled up without much of a fuss.
There is no other way.
Once that way has been,
Removed from suspense.
And in one's mind
Begins to deepen,
With a revealing
Pointless to defend!
Dig in,
And get those benefits received.
Forget about that which was taught,
And thought
Would be so easy.
As if just to wish
All fantasies one would quickly get.
Dig in.
Be the one to make what it wished,
For you begin to happen.
Dig in!
Useless are those complaints.
No one hears,
Or pretends to listen.
Dig in!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suspense is very important. Even though this is humor and they're short stories, that theory of building suspense is still there.
quote by Sergio Aragones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those who have the command of the arms in a country are masters of the state, and have it in their power to make what revolutions they please. Thus, there is no end to observations on the difference between the measures likely to be pursued by a minister backed by a standing army, and those of a court awed by the fear of an armed people.