Slogans rarely convince the unconvinced. However, they do rally the troops already on your side.
quote by John McCarthy
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Coltrane
Wakin' up at nine
Looks at his paper
Can't deal with what he sees
All the troubled lives
The talk of the ages
He's crawling back to bed
Don't take a walk outside
Don't make any new friends
He's crawling back to bed
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
Callin' all his friends
He's known 'em for ages
Can't deal with what they say
Connective alibis
Cold and contagious
He's crawling back to bed
So cut off the phone lines
Stock up on water
He's crawling back to bed
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's very easy to have slogans and rhetoric that people will follow, but eventually the slogans fall away.
quote by Saad Hariri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Rally
I would send out for assistance but theres someone on the signal wire
And the corporation logo is flashing on and off in the sky
Theyre putting all your names in the forbidden book
I know what theyre doing but I dont want to look
You think theyre so dumb, you think theyre so funny
Wait until theyve got you running to the
Night rally, night rally, night rally
Everybodys singing with their hand on their heart
About deeds done in the darkest hours
Thats just the sort of catchy little melody
To get you singing in the showers
Oh, I know that Im ungrateful
Ive got it lying on a plate
And Im not buying my share of souvenirs
You can stand to attention
You can pray to your uncle
Only get that chicken out of here
Everyone gets armbands and 3-d glasses
Some are in the back room
And theyre taking those night classes
You think theyre so dumb, you think theyre so funny
Wait until theyve got you running to the
Night rally, night rally, night rally
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The art of the critic in a nutshell: to coin slogans without betraying ideas. The slogans of an inadequate criticism peddle ideas to fashion.
quote by Walter Benjamin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rally round The Flag
(traditional)
Yes, well rally round the flag, boys
Well rally round again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will rally from the hillside
Well gather from the plain
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
The union forever, hurrah boys, hurrah
Down with the traitor, up with the star
While we rally round the flag, boys
Rally once again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
And although he may be poor
Not a man shall be a slave
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
So were springing to the call
From the east and from the west
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
And well prove a loyal crew
To the land we love the best
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home-Cooked Meal
Most poets will lie to you at some point
they serve up side dishes of lyrical fibs
so rarely do they serve home-cooked meals
of poetry that sticks to your ribs
forgive my honesty
but when it comes to soul food scripture one on one
I take the cake
from under the baker's thumb
most straddle the fence
and avoid their own heart
but trying to convince you to feel every word
and open up old scars
the kitchen seems a little hot for their liking
so, fast is the food of choice
but preservatives eventually wear away
and all that remains is the voice
the meal
the rage
don't let your pen fall asleep
on the page.
poem by Harlequin Rose
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The Battle Cry of Freedom- Union
Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys,
We'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom,
We will rally from the hillside,
We'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
CHORUS: The Union forever,
Hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitors,
Up with the stars;
While we rally round the flag, boys,
Rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
We are springing to the call
Of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll fill our vacant ranks with
A million free men more,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And although they may be poor,
Not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
So we're springing to the call
From the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll hurl the rebel crew
From the land that we love best,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
poem by George Frederick Root
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Uninvolved But With Kept Expectations
Few doubters are left sitting on any fence,
Unconvinced...
Cemented ideals can and will be bulldozed.
And whatever has not been put into practice,
Gets the ax.
Today...
This is not just an opinion.
Today this is a fact!
Pouters and mumblers can take two giant steps,
Backward with the others...
Who have spent their lives,
Living in a 'they' and a 'them' mentality.
Few doubters are left sitting on any fence,
Unconvinced...
Cemented ideals can and will be bulldozed.
A hand reaching to leech from the sidelines,
Uninvolved but with kept expectations...
Discovers,
Eventually...
How quickly to others it can disappear.
It is suggested,
That the inhalation done with deepened breaths...
The scent of reality,
Will quicken one's awakening...
From the strongholding grasp of delusion.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Brass Monkey
We live on in
separate salient
parallel lives.
After forced final
silent thundering
non-communicative
goodbyes.
Andrea’s so extreme
weekend winter
tenting biking.
At annual winter
Brass Monkey
rally biker met.
Engines roar
friends ride
roaring off together.
Road embracing
to rally partaking
to Brass Monkey.
Coldest below zero
southern hemisphere
rally. In Dunedin region,
in New Zealand’s most,
southern scenic region.
Legendary biker rally
now hotly ironically threatened
by expanding global warming.
Was no room for me
kiwi prison warden
could not sentenced be.
Andrea choose a meat
processing worker.
He had two houses
I had zero options
I had no work.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Chanting Slogans
Chanting slogans
Cloaked crowd crawly creeping in and out of the cube,
Crook claiming critically of a cream creed of which the state carelessly crashed.
Cutting short a crimson cat which coiled to and fro,
Certainly a cry from a caressed child,
Catering to cope with a curling coin…
Crumbled protesters
Crushing into police,
Cautiously crafting a calm crane,
Coiling placards whilst others
Chanted slogans…
poem by Iyamuremye Wilfred
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It's Been A Summer
I'm cracked from my head down to my spine
And I'm trying to convince myself
That the way I feel is all I have
It could take a lifetime
To realize that you're alright
But she said
"I'd know when you would come back"
It's been a summer
It's burning up in here
Even thought the bed is cold on your side
I'd rather die
then spend this night here without you
I would try to fix these flaws of mine
If I could just see you for one more time
And I'm trying to convince myself
That the way I feel is all I have
I don't believe in sure things
There's pain in what the truth brings
I'd be the first one to know
If its smart for me to just let it go
I'll be the laughing stock of all time
Person most likely to find
Deciding if it's fate that made you avoid me to this day
song performed by by New Found Glory from Sticks And Stones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rarely Seen In Public
Who hasn't lived moments,
They knew contradict?
And who could believe,
Anyone actually known as introverted...
Would show they have an extroverted side,
Rarely seen in public?
Breaking from their shells,
Some do this quick without assistance.
While many will not attempt,
Experiencing a bit of discomfort...
To rid themselves,
Of habits that limit.
Who hasn't lived moments,
They knew contradict?
And who could believe,
Anyone actually known as introverted...
Would show they have an extroverted side,
Rarely seen in public?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Its Been A Summer
Its been a summer
Im cracked from my head down to my spine
Ready to self destruct
At any time
And Im trying to convince myself that the way Im feeling is all I have
It could take a lifetime
To realize that youre alright
(but you said)
I know when you will come back
Its been a summer
Its burning up in here
Even though the bed is cold on your side
Id rather die than spend this night here without you
(without you)
I would try to fix these flaws of mine
If I could just see you (if I could just see you)
For one more time
And Im trying to convince myself that the way Im felling is all I have
I dont believe it sure fits
Theres pity, but the truth brings:
Ill be the first one to know
If its wrong for me to just let it go
Ill be the laughing stock of florida
Person most likely to find it saddening
Its fate that made you want for me til this day
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In America, people rarely stay in the town where they grew up, rarely stay in close proximity to their parents throughout their lives. You rarely find parents in their old age being taken care of by their children.
quote by Robert Benton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Gift Given By A Friend With Benefits
Those of intelligence,
Are rarely self obsessed with it.
It is something possessed,
Not to boast about to impress.
Or can they be discovered,
In confession professing this.
But those acknowledging others,
Who are declared to be wise...
Seem always there ready to test,
With a quick display of their best ignorance.
And...
Successful they are in the doing to convince,
Just how valued for them a keeping of ignorance is.
As if it is a gift given by a friend with benefits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Are 'Your' Specifics?
So much easier it is,
To attack one who achieves with a doing done.
Than it is to criticize that one who does this,
To impress with plans to do.
And...
With only the evidence one who judges can produce,
Of mistakes another has made in the process...
To the making of attempts to correct those mistakes,
In a public manner to have those errors addressed.
And yet with audacity an honesty is confessed.
To have it perceived the one who critiques...
Is the best one anyone should choose and select,
To represent the very of their interests.
'Yes...
Your ideas are worth a giving of attention.
But,
What are your specifics? '
~That has yet to be determined.
However...
I can promise you when elected,
You will 'then' know what my plans have been.~
'Do you have more than pictures,
And posters with slogans to show us? '
~Of course.
That too you will be given an opportunity to see.
But today my priority is to convince you,
What I offer is a better solution.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exploring Your Options
What side do you stand on,
In the midst of change?
Or have you chosen a comfortable position,
In which to remain sitting on the fence.
In the hopes that doing so,
Will convince time to let you go...
Ignored.
There are clear divisions and splits,
Beginning to exist.
And a straddling of a fence,
Will not permit a sitting to stay comforted.
What side do you stand on,
In the midst of change?
Or have you chosen a comfortable position,
In which to remain sitting on the fence.
In the hopes that doing so,
Will convince time to let you go...
Ignored.
Without exploring your options.
And those you still have!
But not for too long.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We will not send troops. Germany is not committed to Iraq - we will not commit ourselves with troops.
quote by Joschka Fischer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Liz no more
Words may prove to be less
She had kind and unforgettable face
Those memorable lines may stay for ever
Her role as an artist may always be cheered
Hardly in any decade have you had such beautiful flower?
Not for outer beauty but for kind and memorable nature
Memory may fade away but not her contribution
It was really a golden period which really marked revolution
Liz you will be shining star on the horizon
Many hearts were broken and won
You will be remembered for your outstanding performance
Beauty and honor will go side by side with romance
Great souls appear rarely on earth
They will be mourned gravely on their death
Leave behind a great mark for mankind
Rarely we come across or find
Liz you were on lease from the God
You have departed for the good
Someone else may try and take over
As an artist you never desired any cover
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Trumpet Call
Trumpeter, sound for the last Crusade!
Sound for the fire of the red-cross kings,
Sound for the passion, the splendour, the pity
That swept the world for a dead Man's sake,
Sound, till the answering trumpet rings
Clear from the heights of the holy City,
Sound till the lions of England awake,
Sound for the tomb that our lives have betrayed;
O'er broken shrine and abandoned wall,
Trumpeter, sound the great recall,
Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us;
Sound for the last Crusade!
Trumpeter, sound for the splendour of God!
Sound the music whose name is law,
Whose service is perfect freedom still,
The order august that rules the stars.
Bid the anarchs of night withdraw,
Too long the destroyers have worked their will,
Sound for the last, the last of the wars.
Sound for the heights that our fathers trod,
When truth was truth and love was love,
With a hell beneath, but a heaven above,
Trumpeter, rally us, up to the heights of it!
Sound for the City of God.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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