Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Profane!
Profane pastors,
Profane preachers,
Profane prophets and priests!
For, they have failed to tell the people the truth;
And, they fill their pockets with money! !
As, they leave my people with no honey.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I've tried to reduce profanity but I reduced so much profanity when writing the book that I'm afraid not much could come out. Perhaps we will have to consider it simply as a profane book and hope that the next book will be less profane or perhaps more sacred.
quote by Ernest Hemingway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sacred Songs
I like to read and I like to write
But you could persuade me to put the book down tonight
Just please dont ask to be a song heroine
Its not that easy just to stick you in, stick you in
Oh babe, I know youre right
But theres no time and its not the night
Id have to face you again and again
Although you know Id like to stick you in, stick you in
Theyre all sacred songs
Theyre not easily won
You know the words just seem to live on
The thoughts are sacred
Though the sound is profane
But this and that you know theyre
One and the same
One and the same
One and the one and the same
You never know how youre gonna end
I start out hard and I end up thin
You waste your time but you occasionally score
But you cant tell from what went down before, down before
Oh babe, do you see my point?
Theres just no time and its not the night
Id have to face you again and again
Although you know Id like to stick it in, stick it in
Theyre all sacred songs
Theyre not easily won
You know the words just seem to live on
The thoughts are sacred
Though the sound is profane
But this and that you know theyre
One and the same
One and the same
One and the one and the same
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Insanity
There is no such thing as normal, just mundane
To swear thou art normal is profane
In each heart morsel, I beat pain
And go to the clinic and claim am sane
And others doth be insane
To my affliction, and my hurt vanity
All around me is a circle of insanity
I attempt to imprint myself on its orb
But in its vortex I doth absorb
The populace, society, and its ignorance
Mundane, profane, pain and insane…..
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Black On Black II
Daddy's little soldier boy
Mama's little pride and joy
Both hands on her apron strings
"Don't you touch that dirty thing"
A warning signal from above
Inspection with a clean white glove
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract like black on black
The oldest story known to man
The willing sacrificial lamb
Behind the light a shadow falls
The code of silence shakes the walls
A whisper to a silent scream
The power is so frightening
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract just like black on black
A warning signal from above
Inspection with a clean white glove
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Some things seem so sacred
Like a loaded question the power of suggestion
Like the face of danger the kindness of a stranger
Like a Judas Kiss like pleasure and a little pain
I'mmaculate seduction absolute corruption
Ice and fire counteract no turning back like black on black
Black on black.
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract like black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract just like black on black
Black
A little pain
Just like black on black
Black
Black on black
Black on black
Black on black
song performed by by Heart from Desire Walks On
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mystery Of Night
It has no ends, it has no proems.
It has a name – the autumn night.
Personifying hundreds poems
We are just following its flight.
There are just sleeping blocks around,
Where even Drip would seem profane.
We move but we don’t touch the ground
As if the Night was just a fane.
The Fog’s an owner of the air
And River's evanesced in it –
Like Lethe – black, like Lethe – fair,
This River was born in the pit.
And like Abaddons of Profound
The Silence disembodies us.
In lights of neon signs I’ve found –
We turned into the phantoms thus.
In this dendritic Fog I beckon
You to the dark seraphic height.
After this Night no one could reckon
That World is subject to a sight.
Depicture it and fill your core
With my perception of all this,
With your perception fill my sore.
It’s you and Night whom I will miss.
poem by Karina Lakeyeva
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A Film on the Water
tercets, puns
Sir Rule, Ian Ballew and Ock, a marine
set off on a houseboat to study
the difference between greenish-blue and bluish-green.
The deep blue sky on that fog-foggiest of days
they mistakenly thought was the sea
which explains why to us, when they saw a green haze -
Ian whooped, 'It's a film on the water! ' And so...
Sir Rule sent Ock for popcorn and Pepsi,
Ock started to cuss, 'Why? I always have to go! '
If blue means profane and if naive spells out green,
Who wins the Oscar? It's not hard to see -
greenish-blue, naively-profane - Ock, a marine.
or if you prefer:
bluish-green, profanely-naive - still Ock, a marine.
poem by Reason A. Poteet
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Splendor
While writing a poem
I make a blood hole
in my hand.
A walnut face
opens the wrinkles
to find a jade green nephrite
for colicky times.
A prelude to
a death sentence
for profane thoughts.
You think, you can postpone
insomnia of the longest night.
The insects were waiting in wings
to crawl on your beloved body.
poem by Satish Verma
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War is a profane thing.
quote by Norman Schwarzkopf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You will mix what is sacred with what is profane.
Night-Night (Children)
Night-night moon
Night-night stars
Night-night noisy
trucks and cars.
Night-night sand box
Night-night toys
Night-night other
girls and boys.
Night-night mom
Night-night dad
Night-night Boogie Man
who's not bad.
It's time to go to sleep now,
most all my night nights said.
Night-night blankie
Night-night bed.
Night After Night
by Bob Dylan
Night after night you wander the streets of my mind.
Night after night don't know what you think you will find.
No place to go, nowhere to turn,
Everything around you seems to burn, burn, burn.
And there's never any mercy night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night some new plan to blow up the world.
Night after night another old man kissing some young girl.
You look for salvation, you find none.
Just another broken heart, another barrel of a gun,
Just another stick of dynamite night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night you drop dead in your bed,
Night after night another bottle finds a head.
Night after night I think about cutting you loose
But I just can't do it, what would be the use?
So I just keep a holding you tight night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet VI: This door you might not open
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed.... Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress,
But only what you see.... Look yet again--
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
This now is yours. I seek another place.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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It is incumbent upon us to understand our greatness and believe in it so that we do not cheapen and profane ourselves.
quote by Meir Kahane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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by marrying a girl
of an alien God
do not profane covenant with God
quote by by John Celes
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Sonnet 06: Bluebeard
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed.... Here is no treasure hid
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress
But only what you see.... Look yet again—
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
This now is yours. I seek another place.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Bluebeard
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed... Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress,
But only what you see... Look yet again—
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
This now is yours. I seek another place.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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To-- One word is too often profaned
I.
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
One feeling too falsely disdained
For thee to disdain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
II.
I can give not what men call love,
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the Heavens reject not,--
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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One Word Is Too Often Profaned
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it;
One feeling too falsely disdained
For thee to disdain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother;
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
I can give not what men call love;
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the heavens reject not, --
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Art is permitted to survive only if it renounces the right to be different, and integrates itself into the omnipotent realm of the profane.
quote by Theodor Adorno
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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