Less than the dust beneath thy chariot wheel, less than the weed that grows beside thy door.
quote by Adela Florence Nicolson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The fly sat upon the axle of the chariot-wheel and said ""What a lot of dust I raise!""
Swing Down Sweet Chariot
(arranged and adapted by elvis presley)
Why dont you swing down sweet chariot
Stop and let me ride
Swing down chariot
Stop and let me ride
Rock me lord, rock me lord
Calm and easy
Well Ive got a home on the other side
Why dont you swing down sweet chariot
Stop and let me ride
Swing down chariot
Stop and let me ride
Rock me lord, rock me lord
Calm and easy
Well Ive got a home on the other side
Well, well, well, well, well, well
Ezekial went down in the middle of a field
He saw an angel workin on a chariot wheel
Wasnt so particular bout the chariot wheel
Just wanted to see how a chariot feel
Why dont you swing down sweet chariot
Stop and let me ride
Swing down chariot
Stop and let me ride
Rock me lord, rock me lord
Calm and easy
Well Ive got a home on the other side
Well, well, well ezekial went down and he got on board
Chariot went a bumpin on down the road
Zeke wasnt so particular bout the bumpin of the road
Just wanted to lay down his heavy load
Why dont you swing down sweet chariot
Stop and let me ride
Swing down chariot
Stop and let me ride
Rock me lord, rock me lord
Calm and easy
Well Ive got a home on the other side
Well I got a father in the promised land
Aint no more stoppin till I shake his hand
Rock me lord, rock me lord
Calm and easy
Ive got a home on the other side
Why dont you swing down sweet chariot
Stop and let me ride
Swing down chariot
Stop and let me ride
Rock me lord, rock me lord
Calm and easy
Well Ive got a home on the other side
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Much In Little
Amid the iris and the rose,
The honeysuckle and the bay,
The wild earth for a moment goes
In dust or weed another way.
Small though its corner be, the weed
Will yet intrude its creeping beard;
The harsh blade and the hairy seed
Recall the brutal earth we feared.
And if no water touch the dust
In some far corner, and one dare
To breathe upon it, one may trust
The spectre on the summer air:
The risen dust alive with fire,
The fire made visible, a blur
Interrate, the pervasive ire
Of foxtail and of hoarhound burr.
poem by Yvor Winters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Favour of Alexander Valas
I'm not in the least put out that my chariot wheel broke
and I lost that silly race.
I'll drink great wines the whole night,
lying among lovely roses. Antioch is all mine.
I'm the most celebrated young man in town
Valas' weakness, he simply adores me.
You'll see, tomorrow they'll say the race wasn't fair
(though if I'd been crude enough to insist on it secretly,
the flatterers would have given first place even to my limping
chariot).
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Butterfly Weed
Oh lady bug, you've done a good deed.
Setting your table on the butterfly weed,
You're the custodian of all you survey,
On butterfly weed, till the end of the day.
Oh beautiful monarch, where do you feed,
I see you too love the butterfly weed.
You and the ladybug would be poor indeed,
If it was'nt for the butterfly weed.
Oh hummingbird whose throat seems to bleed,
What do you here on the butterfly weed?
All hummingbirds, good advice heed,
We love the orange butterfly weed.
God's smallest creatures, go by one creed,
To congregate on the butterfly weed.
Let the south wind blow, and spread your seed,
So that there will be millions of the butterfly weed.
5/31/03 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Seaweed Shovelling Song
This is my seaweed shovelling song
Ive been shovelling all day long
Ive got got my seaweed shovel in hand
Because Im a seaweed shovelling man
Green weed, red weed, still alive and dead weed
Lying in a pile on the shore
Brown weed, pink weed, smelly kind of stink weed
Who on earth could ask for more!
This is my seaweed shovelling song
Ive been shovelling all day long
Ive got got my seaweed shovel in hand
Because Im a seaweed shovelling man
Dry weed, wet weed, aint-been-troubled-yet weed
Glinting in the morning sun
Thin weed, thick weed, slimy kind of slick weed
Every bucket weighs a ton!
This is my seaweed shovelling song
Ive been shovelling all day long
Ive got got my seaweed shovel in hand
Because Im a seaweed shovelling
Seaweed shovelling
Seaweed shovelling
Seaweed shovelling man!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Agricultural, Implements and Machinery
Poor laborers, they did sad bewail,
When the machine displaced the flail ;
Theres little work, now, with the hoes,
Since cultivators weed the rows.
Labor it became more fickle
When the scythe took place of sickle ;
Labor still it did sink lower
By introduction of mower ;
And the work was done much cheaper
When they added on the reaper.
Another machine to it they join,
Mower, reaper, binder, they combine.
Machines now load and stow away
Both the barley and the hay,
And the farmers do get richer
With the loader and the pitcher.
Theres little work now for the hoes,
Since cultivators weed the rows ;
They sow and rake by the machine-
Hand labor's 'mong the things have been.
Armed with scythes, the old war chariot
Cut down men in the fierce war riot ;
Round farmer's chariot falls the slain,
But 'tis the sheaves of golden grain.
This harvest, now, of eighty-four,
Will great wealth on farmers pour,
For there is abundant yield
Of fruitful crops in every field.
poem by James McIntyre
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The Flies
Say, sire of insects, mighty Sol,
(A fly upon the chariot-pole
Cries out) What blue-bottle alive
Did ever with such fury drive?
Tell Beelzebub, great Father, tell,
(Says th' other perch'd upon the wheel)
Did ever any mortal fly
Raise such a cloud of dust as I?
My judgement turn'd the whole debate;
My valour sayed the sinking state.
To talk two idle buzzing things,
Toss up their heads, and stretch their wings.
But let the truth to light be brought,
This neither spoke nor th' other fought;
No merit in their own behaviour;
Both raised but by their party's favour.
poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Invented the Wheel?
Who invented the wheel?
It is an F. A. Q.
That is here eversince
The wheel came into view
Were it the Sumerians?
Can anyone say who?
Everybody's asking
Nobody seems to know
Who did first use the wheel?
The same and old query
The answer is around
Though not easy to see
Salamander or spider
Transforms into a ball
And like a wheel he goes
Down of a hill he rolls
A wheel without axle
He doesn't have to crawl
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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No great idea in its beginning can ever be within the law. How can it be within the law? The law is stationary. The law is fixed. The law is a chariot wheel which binds us all regardless of conditions or place or time.
quote by Emma Goldman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Science grows like a weed every year.
quote by Kary Mullis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slavery is a weed that grows on every soil.
quote by Edmund Burke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arrogance is a weed that grows mostly on a dunghill.
To His Sweet Saviour
Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep;
And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep;
Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she
Had broke her wheel, or crack'd her axletree.
Just so it is with me, who list'ning, pray
The winds to blow the tedious night away,
That I might see the cheerful peeping day.
Sick is my heart; O Saviour! do Thou please
To make my bed soft in my sicknesses;
Lighten my candle, so that I beneath
Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death;
Let me thy voice betimes i' th' morning hear;
Call, and I'll come; say Thou the when and where:
Draw me but first, and after Thee I'll run,
And make no one stop till my race be done.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Creature Of The Wheel
Creature of the wheel trigger wicked way
Tangle like a web beneath me!
Ankle-deep in hell through another way
Crucify the sky above me!
[above me! above me! above me! above me! above me! above me! above me!]
New God kill machine and man
Say lord of the engines - yeah!
[pocket full of dirt frozen in my hands
Hold on to the nameless God - yeah!
Breathe into the deep and dying light of day
Overdose on bloody wings, yeah...]
Splinter in the skin turn your eyes away -
Sick and swaggering beneath me! [beneath me!]
Revolution mind ye of little faith
Rusty and dull -- cut me! [cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me!
New God kill machine and man
Say lord of the engines - yeah!
(creature of the wheel [no!!!] lord of the infernal engines
Creature of the wheel [no!!!] lord of the infernal engines)
[new god, new god, new god, new god, new god, new god, new god, new god,]
New God kill machine and man
Say lord of the engines - yeah!
(and o brothers and sisters, I ask you to look at him.
Does he have the marks? do you see them? [no!!]
And o brothers and sisters, I ask you to look at him.
Does he have the marks? do you see them? [no!!])
[demon-paper clowns stitched across my back
Easygoing dead black eyes, yeah
Microscopic giants on a chicken-run
Everybody dies laughing!]
Thrust into the drag on the edge and wait
Motivate the one inside you [inside you]
Bastard kicker burn blow the ash away
Heldorado gonna get you!
[get you! get you! get you! get you! get you! get you! get you! get you!]
(creatures of the wheel [no!!]
Do we need the creatures of the wheel? [no!!]
Lord of the infernal engines)
song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The weed that grows by the riverbank will not suffer the effect of draught.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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