Poor fellow, he suffers from files.
quote by Aneurin Bevan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I thought cryptography was a technique that did not require your trusting other people-that if you encrypted your files, you would have the control to make the choice as to whether you would surrender your files.
quote by Whitfield Diffie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The fellow that has no money is poor. The fellow that has nothing but money is poorer still.
quote by Billy Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rated X
Blazing steel on the horizon
In the desert
Forces like the ultimate poseidon
The arrival
Although it burns your eyes
The government denies
Rated x
Not allowed to know
Its rated x
No files to show
The men in power call you liars
Its suppression
They say you never saw it so forget it
All oppression
Theyre passing on the lies
The bunkers full of files
Rated x
You better not care
Its rated x
The facts are somewhere out there
Can we ever trust each other
To believe in
They keep the information under cover
Its not needed
The legacy is born
They classify us all
Rated x
Not allowed to know
Its rated x
No files to show
Rated x
You better not care
Its rated x
The facts are somewhere out here
Rated x
Its rated x
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man who suffers before it is necessary, suffers more than is necessary.
quote by Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song of the Soul
I sing a love song
to the world
to the world that suffers
prejudice, hate and war.
I sing a love song
to the world,
to the world that suffers
AIDS, drug and alcohol addiction.
I sing a love song
to the world,
to the world that suffers
domestic violence, child and sexual abuse.
I sing a love song
to the world,
to the world that suffers
pornography, pollution, and propaganda.
I sing a love song
to the world
Oh, come, sing a love song
with me.
In The Beginning
Pre> first man: I think, I think I am, therefore I am, I think.
Establishment: of course you are my bright little star,
Ive miles
And miles
Of files
Pretty files of your forefathers fruit
And now to suit our
Great computer,
Youre magnetic ink.
First man: Im more than that, I know I am, at least, I think I must be.
Inner man: there you go man, keep as cool as you can.
Face piles
And piles
Of trials
With smiles.
It riles them to believe
That you perceive
The web they weave
And keep on thinking free. /pre>
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Files
Files
The Files -
Office Files !
Oblige me by referring to the Files.
Every question man can raise,
Every phrase of every phrase
Of that question is on record in the Files -
(Threshed out threadbare - fought and finished in the Files
Ere the Universe at large
Was our new-tipped arrows' targe -
Ere we rediscovered Mammon and his wiles
Faeza gentle reader, spent her-five-and-twentieth leader
(You will find him, and some others, in the Files).
Warn all coming Robert Brownings and Carlyles,
It will interest them to hunt among the Files
Where unvisited, a-cold,
Lie the crowded years of old
In that Kensal-Green of greatness called the Files
(In our newspaPère-la-Chaise the Office Files),
Where the dead men lay them down
Meekly sure of long renown,
And above them, sere and swift,
Packs the daily deepening drift
Of the all-recording, all-effacing Files
The obliterating, automatic Files.
Count the mighty men who slung
Ink, Evangel, Sword, or Tongue
When Reform and you were young
Made their boasts and spake according in the Files
(Hear the ghosts that wake applauding in the Files!)
Trace each all-forgot career
From long primer through brevier
Unto Death, a para minion in the Files
(Para minion-solid-bottom of the Files). . . .
Some successful Kings and Queens adorn the Files.
They were great, their views were leaded,
And their deaths were triple-headed,
So they catch the eye in running through the Files
(Show as blazes in the mazes of the Files);
For their 'paramours and priests,'
And their gross, jack-booted feasts,
And their 'epoch-marking actions' see the Files.
Was it Bomba fled the blue Sicilian isles?
Was it Saffi, a professor
Once of Oxford, brought redress or
Garibaldi? Who remembers
Forty-odd-year-old Septembers? -
Only sextons paid to dig among the Files (Such as I am, born and bred among the Files).
You must hack through much deposit
Ere you know for sure who was it
Came to burial with such honour in the Files (Only seven seasons back beneath the Files).
'Very great our loss and grievous - 'So our best and brightest leave us,
'And it ends the Age of Giants,' say the Files;
All the '60-'70-'80'-'90 Files
(The open-minded, opportunist Files ?
The easy ' 0 King, live for ever ' Files).
It is good to read a little in the Files;
'Tis a sure and sovereign balm
Unto philosophic calm,
Yea, and philosophic doubt when Life beguiles
When you know Success is Greatness,
When you marvel at your lateness
In apprehending facts so plain to Smiles
(Self-helpful, wholly strenuous Samuel Smiles).
When your Imp of Blind Desire
Bids you set the Thames afire,
You'll remember men have done so - in the Files.
You'll have seen those flames transpire - in the Files
(More than once that flood has run so - in the Files).
When the Conchimarian horns
Of the reboantic Norns
Usher gentlemen and ladies
With new lights on Heaven and Hades,
Guaranteeing to Eternity
All yesterday's modernity;
When Brocken-spectres made by
Some one's breath on ink parade by,
Very earnest and tremendous,
Let not shows of shows offend us.
When of everything we like we
Shout ecstatic: ' Quod ubique,
'Quod ab omnibus means semper!
Oh, my brother, keep your temper!
Light your pipe and take a look along the Files.
You've a better chance to guess
At the meaning of Success
(Which is Greatness - vide Press)
When you've seen it in perspective in the Files !
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Humanity Have Got Lost
Mosques are ruined
Churches destroyed
Castles, thousands and thousands years lasting a huge culture ruined destroyed Ah for the sake of human being greed
Alas for what are all these harmful deeds
When the humanity will find a little bit peace
As long as within hearts the brutality for the sake of stillness will survive
As long as the insensibly of human being will allow him to harm his fellow man for a bit of bread
As long as the pities are frozen to kill innocent children
Ah those innocent kids their hunger and their poor tears never will find an end
Ah those bloody tears of poor mothers when will find an end
Alas my fellow man as long as you don't have a pity
As long as the brutally of your heart allows you to kill your fellow man
The peace is lost
Alas humanity have got lost.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The Merit Suffocates
Merit suffers from vested interests.
Money and sex play a great part.
Prejudice and nepotism
Do their parts at a crucial point.
Religion is not far behind.
Merit suffers and suffocates.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Danny Deever
"What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade.
"To turn you out, to turn you out", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade.
"I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,
The regiment's in 'ollow square -- they're hangin' him to-day;
They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,
An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.
"What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes that front-rank man fall down?" said Files-on-Parade.
"A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,
They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;
An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound --
O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!
"'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place,
For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' -- you must look 'im in the face;
Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace,
While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.
"What's that so black agin' the sun?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What's that that whimpers over'ead?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny's soul that's passin' now", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,
The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;
Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day,
After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Who Is This God Fellow And What's The Reason Why
Who is this God Fellow
And what’s the reason why
Did he murder the last poet
When he thought to cry
Who is this God Fellow
And what’s the reason why
Dose he never leave the gated community
Of his heaven in the sky.
Who is this God fellow
And what is his gig
It seems to me that he and his priest
Got the whole damn thing rigged
Is he a prince or a pauper a pusher or a pimp
That dose his jealous thing reveal
To me while I smoke a bit of hemp.
Who is this God fellow
Is he married to human by the power of a prayer
And why is it that he should even care
Who is this God fellow and what’s the reason why
Did he murder the last poet when he thought to cry
Who is this God fellow and why are his blessings to live
Only by the hands of priest that are stingy to give
Who the reason and what’s the reason why
That a small rain should collect in his eyes.
poem by David E. Patton
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Hollywood Holiday
I rode my motorcycle through a watermelon patch
Right on the california freeway
I took my holy Bible on my blessed boogie woogie drive
Cause I know I know I know
Where I go oh lord theyre gonna bless me jive
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
I parked my motorcycle on hollywood and vine
And sang till my red blood turned boiling blue
I took my sole survival and bore my cross on a string
Cause I know I know I know
What I dear I bear my charm to king
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of Mankind
If human fails to help humanity..
Who will think for humanity
With a feeling of li’l sympathy
Won’t be a matter of indignity…? ? ?
If human fails to help humanity
Who will think for humanity
With a feeling of li’l sympathy
Won’t be a matter of indignity…? ? ?
If human fails to help humanity…..
When a man sells his fellow men..
When a man bids for fellow men..
When a man sells his fellow men..
When a man bids for fellow men..
Uncivilized and uncultured….
Won’t be a matter of indignity? ?
If human fails to help humanity
Who will think for humanity
With a feeling of li’l sympathy
Won’t be a matter of indignity…? ? ?
If human fails to help humanity…
Let us stretch our hands..
To help the needy and poor..
With a feeling of warmth
We can make it sure! ! !
Let us stretch our hands..
To help the needy and poor..
With a feeling of warmth
We can make it sure! ! !
If a man cant be a human…
How would a demon become human? ?
If a man cant be a human…
How would a demon become human? ?
And If a demon becomes human
Won’t be a matter of indignity? ?
(Originally composed in Assamese as ‘Manuhe Manuhor Babe’ by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika)
(Set to original tune)
poem by Kamal Jyoti Borah
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Oh To Be Wealthy And Famous
Oh to be wealthy and famous living in a big house by the sea
With a Rolls Royce in my garage of money worries quite free
Seen as a successful person with heaps of money to spend
Everyone would want to know me everyone would be my friend.
I could help the poor and needy for others I could do good
I could help you out then poor fellow instead of saying I would help you if I could
Money it speaks every language pity the poor and downtrod
Surely there is nothing greater than money the great paper god.
I could do wonders with money help those in dire poverty
Be an example to others to worthy causes donate generously
Instead I struggle for survival one of the poor of our Street
Life for me an uphill battle struggling for to make ends meet.
Oh to be wealthy and famous the wealthiest man in the Town
I could be generous with money help those financially down
Instead I am just a poor battler who would wish to be my friend
I who must be careful with money and count every dollar I spend?
poem by Francis Duggan
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Luke Filewalker
what you have you found about me
and my files?
lots of virus
nothing about aids
some worms, and
clots, and
scars,
makes everything slow down
as they used to be
can't find love in the files?
what did you find somehow?
are these matters transparent?
can they kill?
there is a hole
a void in everything, do not think that it is just contained
in the doughnut
there is a void in
lOve too, nothing much in lUst, i tell you, i have been there,
for one thing, you think too much about what people say
God's judgment
i admire Rey for telling me
he is just human, and will be human in the form of happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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SS Demons
I artist
razor at throat
painted
a canvas life crime
I artist
fish hooks in flesh
wrote
a Holocaust Files.
Why is it popularist
history
remembers only half...
12 million killed, tortured
enslaved by vile sub-human SS
demons during World War II?
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also The Holocaust Files!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Unhappy is the man
Unhappy is the man
Having no mental ease
Who suffers from self-conflict
And kleptomaniac disease
No self-contentment
Even seven continents are given
How can this man be happy
Being a soaring raven?
Who believes not himself
Nor faithful to fellow feather
Who is Mr. Jackal and Hide
With false grieving weather
Millionaire in material
Mendicant in heart
No soap is invented yet
To wash away his dirt
Remnant of a burned palace
Nothing but ashes
Remnant of a decaying soul
Repents and remorses
poem by Md.abdul Mannan
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That man is good who does good to others if he suffers on account of the good he does, he is very good if he suffers at the hands of those to whom he has done good, then his goodness is so great that it could be enhanced only by greater sufferings and if he should die at their hands, his virtue can go no further it is heroic, it is perfect.
quote by Jean de la Bruyere
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor, darling fellow - he died of food. He was killed by the dinner table.
quote by Diana Vreeland
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Johnny Speaks
THE sand-man he's a jolly old fellow,
His face is kind and his voice is mellow,
But he makes your eyelids as heavy as lead,
And then you got to go off to bed;
I don't think I like the sand-man.
But I've been playing this livelong day;
It does make a fellow so tired to play!
Oh, my, I'm a-yawning right here before ma,
I'm the sleepiest fellow that ever you saw.
I think I do like the sand-man.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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