The Creation Of Giants.
The creation of giants. You made me. You saved me. A destiny set in stone. Just remember your never alone. Ups and down, but still around. Its hard work in the making. Its just breath taking. All I've been through and I still haven't unglued. On the ins and outs no doubt. Brought down by being a little too proud. But still I clear shroud of darkness. I know friends when I see them. They don't prey upon me, yet their always there for me. Tripping over my own feet from time to time. But still i know the roads i must find. Their my stars align. A charted map i can see it now. It glows every night, and i know its right like a premonition. Some so great. Its the creation of giants.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Related quotes
They Might Be Giants
Hang on
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be rain
They might be heat
They might be frying up a stalk of wheat
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be brain
They might be washed
They might be dr. spocks back-up band
To make the merry-go-round go faster
So that everyone needs to hang on tighter
Just to keep from being thrown to the wolves
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be bald
They might be snow
They might be something else in the snow
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be fake
They might be lies
They might be big, big, fake, fake lies
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Killer Of Giants
If none of us believe in war
Then can you tell me what the weapons for
Listen to me everyone
If the button is pushed
Therell be nowhere to run
Giants sleeping giants winning wars
Within their dreams
Till they wake when its too late
And in gods name blaspheme
Killer of giants threatens us all
Mountains of madness standing so tall
Marches of protest not stopping the war
Or the killer of giants
The killer of giants
Mother nature people state your case without its worth
Your seas run dry your sleepless eyes are turning red alert
Killer of giants threatens us all
Mountains of madness standing so tall
Rising so proudly it has nowhere to fall
This killer of giants
This killer of giants
Killer of giants threatens us all
Mountains of madness standing so tall
Marches of protest not stopping the war
Oh the killer of giants
Oh the killer of giants
Killer of giants
Killer of giants
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The success timeline
....lou! the good tiding
... of the universe, creation is made for
... mankind to subdue, oh! let your heart praise
... for thy power of God has given
... your soul dominion to
.. all that exist, make yourself near to be
... perfect, to thy Lord is one in your path in thy
... heaven home He prepare
... all that is given, is you
... to dispose, yet! the best of all that is taken
... and known to be forsaken, for who is ever
... is the great will always be
... hasten
... remember this day oh!
... man, for thy creation is not given for only
... you to stay as haven in your dream
... that all are for merry making,
... may thy majesty be
... for any amongst men, in the kingdom come
... it will be forever....Amen
poem by Antonio Liao
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Finis. Time.
O Time! Time! Time!
Thou wondrous mystery!
Within whose rune and rhyme
Lies all Man's history
Before Creation's birth
Or yet the Heavens were made
With darkness all was girth,
Till word Creative said
'Let there be Light;'
And lo! from out the deep
In grandeur and with might
Rolled back the ages of sleep,
And born was Night-and-Day,
And stars together sang
Their glad harmonic lay
And all Creation rang
With 'Glory to God in the Highest.'
Now let the strain resound
And Man to God the nighest
With Light and Life be crowned,
Till in the time appointed,
Unfolding from Man's breast
Be Life with Love anointed
And God made manifest.
poem by Joseph Furphy
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0012 Creation?
Creation out of
nothing, nowhere, no-whence?
How much more intriguing
and possible,
even probable,
if Creation came out of
everything, everywhere,
everythere, everywhence..
alltime, allspace, all,
which is after all - or before all -
what we all wish to return to,
enjoy, and be, and know…
scientists, why not meet
philosophers, worshippers,
and poets, where Creation is all
just a great big work of art
made out of forever-love and therefore-law, as
one and all?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My Work's
My work’s
My work’s was all for you and I see that I need it and now let me feel all of it’s meaning,
All plans that I have for my past was all for your future,
I found that you made me strong and now I see that in your love I define all love in your work’s,
Time is all moving so fast and there is nothing to lose for your essence we violated all your work’s and see that nothing but pain made me see that I need to prepare that we love all nature by what we all define for the new creation,
I see that you made me strong in my heart and find that you are eventually made me see that we are creature’s that search for a Creator, this is all I see and in it let me define all it’s true meaning,
This is all that I have and in your work’s I know that you never made me fall and now I know that in your love never make me hesitate and in your love I see that in your love let me love and in these work’s I know that you never made me fall,
I know that in all work’s I see that in my life you never planned to waste any of my time and in your immutability I saw that we shared equal opportunities,
Heal me and tell me that I need it all in me for the new creation that never made me to get lost in all love that made me suffer and know that the unseen in you is all justice in you and I feel that I need and in all love that is all love that healed all afflictions.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Today... 'Architect and Builder
Ere time elapsed or creation began
You drew up Your wondrous salvation plan.
A mighty universe was to be made
through which Your glory would be displayed
Builder of all things both seen and unseen
of every earthly and heavenly scene.
Angelic hosts their great praises render
as creation appeared in all its splendour.
Its great Architect and Builder was God
and the streets of His creation He trod.
Climbing the steep path to Calvary's hill
His great Plan of Salvation to fulfil.
To build again the New Jerusalem
and fill its streets with children of Abraham
To build the Church each stone a living soul
each one born again and in Christ made whole
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
Racoon
Racoon wakes up every night,
with its black soft mask and painted paws,
its quiet and still and white,
The sparkling snow mountain is where all the bundles of food is kept,
It walked up the frosted moutains,
just like the giants that came once a year,
up on the mountain there is a big wooden den, where the giants snore,
but Racoon has not come for watching the giants,
he has come for the big shining silvery can,
like the lonely stars that shone above,
Inside there is enough food to last for moons,
the sun rises and Racoon runs home,
For when the sun sets Racoon will climb snow mountain again.
poem by Sora Yoshimatsu
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The Creation
I'm writing with every quotation as my sensation
With elaborate details as the realization
Taking a canvas and drawing the trees
Taking a canvas and drawing the seas
It is all bubbling over.
Sitting here with kettle I'm stirring
With my eyes I'm blurring
With my mouth I'm splurging
In the depths of my own existence
There is a being who lives
Sometimes he is of the great
Sometimes he is the snake
Each time something new
With my imagination unglued
Fall in love with the fellow will you
Mellow the anger
Bring up the sadness
Turn it in happiness
It is my creation
It is my revelation
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I just took the idea that King Kong was too big for everything and reversed it and put George in a land of giants, which is basically what every kid goes through anyway - that, you know, the world is made for grownups, for tall people, for the giants.
quote by William Joyce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Believe
Is anybody here?
Is everybody here?
The service is about to begin!
I make my servant by fires insidious
Instead of the laughter, theres the last of the separated jewels
Ill make dust of the whole damned wall
Ill make hovels for all the worms
I left off my hands to save these idiot bastards
Bastards!
Me and cellmate have lost again for ever
The sun shines and I breathe my father...
I want so much to remove your past
And deliver your neurotic flesh from evil
Grab this giants hand
Grab this giants hand
Grab this giants hand
Grab this giants hand
But Im only allowed to touch what I know
And all that I know are hypocrites
Liars and witches who burned in the name of human fear
You will never believe
Never believe
We havent much time left
Evening will come
And with it the equivalent
Of the devils animals
With fear to come
They ask of us favors we cannot fulfill
They ask, curse at us, and we smile
Caught in conviction
A crowd of senseless individuals
Will go further than both love and greed
As the clear salvation -- the future is here!
You will never believe
Never believe
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Less To Give
So often exasperated, I draw another breath,
slow it down, go easy, I'm racing to my death
more work, more worry, no time left to live,
does each anxious gasp mean one less to give,
mad dash of frezy, running out of time,
more work, more flow, forced to dropp or climb
take a rest, need a rest, hear the grass grow
grind it out, burn it out, hear my mind blow,
so dead on your feet, your eyes can't sleep,
the work whistle blows, too afraid to weep,
you promise yourself time off with a friend,
the whistle still screams, there is no end,
awakened at night, dreaming of work,
absent of self, just another kneejerk,
what's it all for, is it just for more,
another gasp, your blood spills to the floor,
all of you breath living enslaved,
all of the time you haven't saved,
to languish sweetly in this world you live,
breath in deep, fearless of, One Less To Give
poem by keith Durante
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Ignoring Creation’s Witness
Look about you, what do you see, creation about us abundantly,
From the sky above, to the ground, God’s Creation is all around;
From the grass plush and green, to blue sky above every scene,
God’s Creation all about the earth, is evidence of Creation’s birth.
When God spoke, it had begun; creating this world, with His Son,
As God continued for six days, with all Creation, to God’s Praise;
Saying, as God capped His Plan, in Our Image, let us create man,
Finishing Creation with His best, on day seven He then would rest.
Now with Creation set in place, it continues this day by His Grace,
While producing all kinds of life, to be sustained by Jesus Christ;
Nature from God pleasing to the eye, from the ground to the sky,
Birds, animals and vegetation, all produced within God’s Creation.
Nothing at all, has evolved, except minds, which haven’t resolved,
What to do with all God’s Truth, to validate a theory with no proof,
With an evolving, darkened mind, they leave logical Truths behind,
Deceiving, while being deceived, God’s Truth, they never believed.
But, even if God, these men refuse, all men will be without excuse,
Whatever theory these men claim, they’ll hang their head in shame,
For our Creator won’t be mocked, and they’ll be eternally shocked,
As they depart from His Majesty, to enter a darker, eternal destiny.
(Copyright ©04/2010)
The Dream Called Life
So it began with a flash of beams,
And they all thought it was just a mare dream.
Hoping to wake up one day,
And see that it was just a play.
But in the awaken of the sunrise,
Gave rise to something worth more than price.
It all started with a dream from heaven,
All it took was several days numbering up to seven.
To get this amazing dream on,
Even if it's still lukewarm.
Then came the birth of the stars,
And believe me it never remained dead like mars.
The dream kept on going,
And so like the air it kept on moving.
Until it got still for a while,
When it exploded like a missile.
And there it stood behold and begotten,
The finest of all creation from heaven.
A creation never seen before,
Never thought or heard of before.
And next was a breath of life,
A breath that's stronger than life.
A breath that brought about evolution,
A breath of divine resolution.
A breath that filled the lungs of men,
And gave rise to the world of men.
So the dream became more clearer,
For the generation of men was drawing nearer.
A generation of men of great kinds,
Made from the finest of all sands.
It still look like a mare dream,
But in reality creation it seem.
For they never understood,
How this extraordinary dream stood.
But in the end,
The dream gave birth to a world without end.
A life of justice, purity and happiness,
Full of love, joy and no sadness.
After giving birth to the world of humanity,
This dream will live on for all eternity.
poem by Stanley Oguh
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Moses
The people are fed up
with eating manna
which is like getting
putu porridge every day
and somewhere it passes
being nice
and they want some meat
to roast on the coals.
The scouts sneak back
to were we camp
and only two are convinced
that we can win the battle
and can conquer a country
where there is milk and honey.
The others are sure
that we will come undone
against giants of ten feet ten
and we have to find another way
even if it’s through the desert.
Still the cloud glows hot at dusk
where it hangs above the camp
and I see red,
orange and pink colours.
The staff is sturdy in my hand
and there is silence at night
and I see God’s stars
appearing one after the other
against the heavenly sky
while I wonder
what to do with these stubborn people
since the desert is hot and dry.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Blues, The Jazz, The City
The city is jazz under neon lights
The jazz is blues stoned
And the city never forgets this
Like the heart never forgets to pulse
And the stars never forget to shine in the night
But it takes jazz to move it, to move it all
So the jazz is the beat that always burns
So the heavens continue to shine on and shine all
The jazz soothes the souls of the children
Though the city is old, the jazz is young
Thus the jazz, fast and heavy, radiates the city
She returns her to her ember glow in night
The city is high on the hill and low in the valley
She is the heart, the blessed nectar, the blossom shower
The jazz glows in prosperous tombs
She serves the crashing wave of the monsoon, to the city's bay, to the ancient harbor, across bold rivers, to lakes nestled in the safety of moors and battlefields, and sings to the forest and soaks the timber and every reborn city is cloaked in the fingertip of jazz
Since jazz destroys and creates, it is the fire, and so the smoke rises higher
Hark the newborn guff of jazz
The baptized funeral pyre
Hench jazz is the gospel, the good news
She returns though, always to the blues
Love the blue lady, her old cracked voice
The blues, the jazz, and the lady unite
To the bravery of her song she sang to the evil eyes of the Kodak dragon whose hair in the hiding bear under masks of hatred
The jealous lair, the haunt of despair
And jazz shines on, they can't stop her
The lady of the city sings to the farm
No choir can match the timbre of the lady
My first love,
She shines on for me when I am sad, through me in melancholy
And we join in joy, the lady sees all, feels all, and sings on
Rambunctious be the lady, the city, the blues
Who beat for hearts at night
From the slide trombone, the tut-tut-tut of the mighty snare
The brass milieu for brighter days and neon lights
The whimper
The whimper of the stand-up bass, who carries the beat, the jazz, the blues, the night
In your arms I am safe and sound, the sounds who hold me tight
And above all, upon the highest peak, the great black giants, the black hands and breath of jazz, food for the soul and fodder, who inspire all in the world
But the two giants upon the highest mountain compete for the night and walk away friends as we do
They too are the shine, the noble sheen, and while the lady sings, they dance, the boozers hound and prance, the lovers kneel and romance and the giants push the pebbles from beneath their mountain feet
Who knows how many souls the jazz saved, but I know she saved mine
The giants, trumpet and sax, and even the sweet other of New Orleans, a trumpet and voice, a demigod, and every other band and face and time
So the jazz soothed them too to be saved, as they played, we all played, and jazz shines for the night
And Jack drew the map in sketches, he saw the jazz, but the jazz sees all, and saves all who smile upon her because she loves all, but can only save those who hear her call because she is human
She is so human
She is the city of light of darkest night
But most of all I think on the lady
The lady is the city, sitting pretty, in a jam
The jam
The beat
The jazz
The lady
The city
The blues
Pushed forward by strongest beat, what a feat, and the children eat their meat
And meet those they should, the jazz rumbles on, singing the song, nothing wrong
And the lady smiles always because she is the beat of my heart, my soul
She blooms my flower
She waves my sound
She smiles
Smiles
The lady
With her cracked somber voice of the blues, the city, and jazz
She the great bell, cracked, she chimes for liberty, she chimes for freedom of the endless soul she saves
And the giants steamroll her, the angel ember young
And she flies in heaven where she belongs, singing for the city, the blues, the jazz
And love
poem by Jay Bradley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Really Haven't Got The Time
(Mike Pinder)
You want me to ride
In your car outside
Spend some time with you
Just an hour or two
But I really,
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
I'm a busy man
Workin' when I can
I got no time to lend
I got no time, time to spend
Oh no, I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
Oh no, I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
(Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!)
Instrumental
I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
Oh no, I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
Workin' nine 'til five
Got to stay alive (I've got to stay alive)
Find somebody who (Go find somebody who)
Got some time for you (Who's got the time for you)
But I really
No, no, no, no
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
Oh no, I really
No, no, no, no
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
Really haven't got the time
(Really haven't got time)
*************************************************************
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night Sky
The Night Sky
Stars Were So Bright In The Nights Dark Sky
The Little Lights That Lit Up The Black Spots In Space
Stars That We Wondered In
And Saw Many Wonderful Things
Like The Many Stars That Are Out There...
How There Are So Many Lights In The Night Sky...
How The Night Sky Could Look So Great
In Only Black And White
The Same Thing, The Same Looks..
Yet So Many Objects And Point Outs Of Our Imagination
Oh, How The Night Sky
When We Look On about Its The Same Sky We See When We're Away From Each other
The Same Crescent Moon, The Same Stars
The Same Look Outs That Remind Me Of You.
poem by Gabina Gomez
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Out Here Alone
Out here alone so late at night
with all these spectacular stars
burning through the clean glass
of the freezing winter air
I can almost hear them thinking
behind the myths of the cover stories
they've told for years
dark truths about life and light
it would be madness in a man to understand.
Don't try to stuff the impersonal secret
of the universe
into your sentimental heart.
How could you ever fit its likeness
into a locket
and finger it lovingly as your own?
Out here alone so late
even if you have come
like a thief in the night
to steal from the light
when nobody's home
there are no cracks no facets no gaps
no backdoors, unlocked windows
or emergency exits,
no stairwells or entrances
in these jewels of insight
that can feel your eyes falling upon them
like rain running down a mirror
that shuts you out
like someone in the bathroom crying
for reasons that are light-years beyond you.
However deep and sincere your tears are
they're still only dry wells
in that vast ocean of awareness,
black snowflakes
on the roaring furnace of the abyss
and if you reach out with affection
hoping to make things better
by embracing it all
you're still only tendering a kiss
to the gaping jaws of your own lipless skull.
There's a silence older than space
in the bottomless heart of things
that makes intelligence seem
the unlikeliest of exaggerations
a human could ever mean
holding his mind up like a lamp to the stars
as if he could find his own way back by his own light
without the dream that themes his mindstream with creation.
But as foolish and futile as it is to surmise
or try to get a leg up on the wise
I don't think the darkness
is the negative space
around the troubled face that appeared
after all the dots were connected
like rising constellations
in a child's colouring book.
And I don't think there are gods
squatting like frogs
on the lotus of the world
making us up as they go along
like wheels and roads
to the grunts and groans
of an axial mating song
anyone could mistake for a joke.
And I don't think the stars
believe the things we say about them
or even remotely feel the mystic dread
of what it is to be a human
looking up at their shining
out of deeper darknesses within
where no direction can be given to the lost like eyes
that would never find their own way home again
were it not for the stars and fireflies that mislead us
from one illumination to the next
by giving the finger to the braille of the text
that would school a gust of stardust into us
like God gave life to Adam
and Eve gave life to God
long before there were any laws to blind them
like Satanic lightning bolts
uprooting their eyes like rain from the clouds
to put those fires out.
I look up at the stars
with the eyes of an exile
through the diaspora of my breath
and I want to think them all to death
like the people and things I've left behind me
when it was time to go my own way
anywhere into the darkness inside me
to see if I could shine a light upon myself
that didn't blind me to the fact
neither in the beginning
nor in the end
was I there to witness the act
that made a certainty as good as a doubt
to the great indifference
that wasn't trying to find me
like a needle of light in the heart of a haystack.
I look up at the stars
like a scarecrow in winter
trying to put its pants on
one leg after another
like a man
with nothing but time to burn
scattering his ashes among the stars
urn after urn
skull after skull
of the heretics and mystics
that were martyred by his scar-crossed heart
in the name of nothing real.
I don't know what they feel
but I look up at the stars
like a black rose
of blood and starmud
in the last death throes
of self-immolation
and see in my own image
what I've always had
in common with creation.
poem by Patrick White
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A Pageant of Elizabeth
Written for "The Pageant of Parliament," 1934
Like Princes crowned they bore them--
Like Demi-Gods they wrought,
When the New World lay before them
In headlong fact and thought.
Fate and their foemen proved them
Above all meed of praise,
And Gloriana loved them,
And Shakespeare wrote them plays!
. . . . . . .
Now Valour, Youth, and Life's delight break forth
In flames of wondrous deed, and thought sublime---
Lightly to mould new worlds or lightly loose
Words that shall shake and shape all after-time!
Giants with giants, wits with wits engage,
And England-England-England takes the breath
Of morning, body and soul, till the great Age
Fulfills in one great chord:--Elizabeth!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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