It looked like a pagan banner planted on a Christian rampart.
quote by Douglas Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pagan Place
How did he come here?
Who gave him the key?
Slipped it in his hand
So secretly
And who put the colour
Like lines on his face?
Brought him here
To a pagan place
Now who shot his arrow?
How high did it fly?
When he tipped it with poison
Did he even know why?
What unseen hand
Brought him face to face to face to face with
All this and more
In a pagan place?
Come into my parlour
Sail in at my shore
Drink my soul dry
There is always more
There is always more after now
Fly on my carpet
Look into my face
See the heart of man
In a pagan
In a pagan
In a pagan
In a pagan
In a pagan
Pagan...
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pagan Baby
Pagan baby, wont you walk with me?
Pagan baby, come on home with me.
Pagan baby, take me for a ride.
Roll me, baby, roll your big, brown eyes.
Yeah! ooh! ooh!
Pagan baby, let me make your name.
Drive it, baby, drive your big love game.
Pagan baby, what you got, I need.
Dont be savin, spread your love on me.
Aah! mm-mm-mm!
Pagan baby, now wont you rock with me?
Pagan baby, lay your love on me.
Yeah, yeah!
Aah! hey, hey!
Aah! hey! yeah!
Hey! hey! haaaaaaay!
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyone would like to behave like a pagan, with everyone else behaving like a Christian.
quote by Albert Camus
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Scratch the Christian and you find the pagan - spoiled.
quote by Israel Zangwill
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What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me
What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?—
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner I’ll live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.
Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder,
But country and flag, the flag I am under—
There is the shilling that finds me willing
To follow a banner and fight for honour.
CH. We follow her banner, we fight for her honour.
Call me England’s fame’s fond lover,
Her fame to keep, her fame to recover.
Spend me or end me what God shall send me,
But under her banner I live for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we march for her honour.
Where is the field I must play the man on?
O welcome there their steel or cannon.
Immortal beauty is death with duty,
If under her banner I fall for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we fall for her honour.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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The Christian fear of the pagan outlook has damaged the whole consciousness of man.
quote by David Herbert Lawrence
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Indeed, the Founders mentioned the pagan authors in so many heartfelt speeches, pamphlets and letters that today's sweeping references to America's 'Christian' roots and 'Judeo-Christian heritage' ought to be amended. Maybe these terms should be reserved to explain the traditional religions and morality of individuals, families, congregations, small communitities. Politically, our notions of virtue and vice have had another genesis.
quote by Colin Campbell
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So I will go as far as I can into rock and roll carrying my Christian banner.
quote by Cliff Richard
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Who Is A Christian?
Who is a Christian in this Christian land
Of many churches and of lofty spires?
Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews
Bought by the profits of unholy greed,
And looks devotion, while he thinks of gain.
Not he who sends petitions from the lips
That lie to-morrow in the street and mart.
Not he who fattens on another's toil,
And flings his unearned riches to the poor,
Or aids the heathen with a lessened wage,
And builds cathedrals with an increased rent.
Christ, with Thy great, sweet, simple creed of love,
How must Thou weary of Earth's 'Christian' clans,
Who preach salvation through Thy saving blood
While planning slaughter of their fellow men.
Who is a Christian? It is one whose life
Is built on love, on kindness and on faith;
Who holds his brother as his other self;
Who toils for justice, equity and PEACE,
And hides no aim or purpose in his heart
That will not chord with universal good.
Though he be pagan, heretic or Jew,
That man is Christian and beloved of Christ.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Anammelech
They have a mixture oif the worship of Yahweh and that of the Pagan Gods!
For they really love their Pagan Gods and Godesses;
And their respective pagan customs are leading them into the paths of the dark bush,
But, who can tell them the truth?
For i am Anammelech in the land of my muse in search of the truth always;
So, tell me if you've found the right way that leads to the Path of the Truth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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It makes no difference who or what you are, old or young, black or white, pagan, Jew, or Christian, I want to love you all and be loved by you all, and I mean to have your love.
quote by Victoria Woodhull
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I can assure you, that the gallant hearts that throb beneath its sacred folds, will only be content, when this glorious banner is planted first and foremost in the coming struggle for out independence.
quote by John B. Hood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Planted A Hand
I planted a hand
And there came up a palm,
I planted a heart
And there came up balm.
Then I planted a wish,
But there sprang a thorn,
While heaven frowned with thunder
And earth sighed forlorn.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Seeds Of War
When the seeds of war are sown,
hardly is it ever known
who has planted it
and what for?
Was it about
blood and gore?
When the seeds of war take root
it's hidden reasons make us mute.
Why was it planted
and by whom?
Was its purpose
doom and gloom?
When the seeds of war are grown
never is it ever shown
how it is planted
in men's mind?
How it's made them
all so blind.
When the seeds of war do thrive
many will not be alive.
They'll be planted
in false graves.
These seeds propel
how the world behaves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Thus Christian humanism is as indispensable to the Christian way of life as Christian ethics and a Christian sociology.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All My Brothers
I walk with my brother the Christian,
But I do not believe as he, I am not his Christian brother.
I walk with my brother the Jew,
Not born to his name, I am not his brother.
I walk with my brother the Muslim,
Infidel to him, he does not call me his brother.
They know only their god, not one that I can know.
I walk with my brother the Hindu.
We are love and all are one.
I walk with my brother the Buddhist
He has known me in our past family
I walk with my brother the Taoist
We are on this path but for a moment.
They know god and I am he.
I walk with my brother the Shaman,
He sees the animal spirit within me.
I walk with my brother the Pagan,
He knows only the nature from which we come.
I walk with my brother the Tribesman,
He finds my place with his people.
They know of god in everything.
I walk with my brother the deer
He watches me with curiosity
I walk with my brother the crane,
He wonders if I can catch him.
I walk with my brother the serpent,
He sees me as warmth.
They know nothing of God.
poem by R.L. Ohlhausen
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The Weed
There was an old woman
that planted a garden.
And in the garden
there grew a weed.
The weed grew next to
a beautiful flower.
The flower had grown
from a tiny seed.
The weed was strong
and would not bend.
The wind did blow
and it did send
the seeds from the flower
into the air.
They circled around
and landed where
the weed was growing
next to the flower.
Soon the weed was
surrounded by flowers.
It loved where it was
and looked by the hours
at all of the beautiful
colorful flowers.
The old woman who planted
the garden one day
decided that she would
make a bouquet.
She went to the garden
to cut the flowers.
But when she got there
down came the showers.
The raindrops that fell
made the weed shine
which made the old woman
change her mind.
She left them alone
in her garden and knew
that the weed belonged
with the flowers that grew.
She'd planted the flowers.
God planted the weed.
The garden was perfect.
No bouquet did she need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Poem #017, Sonnet #6: I, The Pagan
The world has fallen through, a stunning fall,
And sick humanity cannot arise
But, I the pagan, who has raised a wall,
‘Tween God and me, how can I agonize?
The world is sunken deep in phantom faiths
Pathetic people magnify their fear
But I, the pagan, idolize no wraiths
Of man's crippled conception, foul and queer,
The world is locked in doctrines pitiable
And man is glad in gilded slavery
Yet I, the pagan, ne'er lamentable,
Delight in freedom, bask in blasphemy
Because it's me whom I am keen to laud
Self-worship, and my self my only god!
Beirut
October 11th 1987
poem by Samer Madbak
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