Profit And Loss
Each day a new sword flashes in the van;
Another leader, brave to do or die,
Comes forth, full- furnished for the strife whereby
He gains his growth and stature as a man.
Each day our world, that under the black ban
Of ignorant custom for so long did lie,
Grows bright and brighter, like a clearing sky,
More good and lovely in its wondrous plan.
Yet oh! how few the saved, how small the gain,
How poor the profit as against the cost —
The waste of life, divinely vast and fair,
Potential in starved soul and unfed brain —
The powers that might have been and might be — lost
Only for want of common food and air!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Wasted
Each day another soldier in the van,
Each day a new young worker in the fields,
And every day more plenteous harvest-yields
From human toil, to bless and not to ban -
A better world, upon a better plan.
And, daily strengthening the arms he wields,
And more disdainful of old shifts and shields,
An ever nobler and diviner Man.
But, oh, how few the saved, how small the gain,
How poor the profit as against the cost,
The waste of life potential, vast and fair,
In soul unfructified and starveling brain,
Of Power that might have been, and might be - lost
For want of common food and common air!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Ordained
1.
THROUGH jewelled windows in the walls
The tempered daylight smiles,
And solemn music swells and falls
Adown these stately aisles;
Beneath that carven chancel- rood
Low murmurs, hushed to silence, brood;
One voice in prayer appeals
For Holy Spirit's quickening grace
To light his now anointed face
Who at the altar kneels.
2.
One hour ago, like us, he trod
Along these cloisters dim —
Now we are bid to reverence God
Made manifest in him;
To mock at our enlightened sense
And dearly won experience,
So far beyond his own;
To take him for our heaven- sent guide
Upon these seas, so wild and wide,
To him as yet unknown.
3.
Unconscious of the coming strife,
Unformed in mind and thought,
Without one ripe idea of life
Save what his school books taught,
An ignorant boy, he vows a vow
To think and feel as he does now
Till his gold locks are grey;
Pledges his word to learn no more —
To add no wisdom to the store
His young mind holds to- day.
4.
How shall he keep this senseless oath
When once a full- grown man?
How shall he check his upward growth
To fit this meagre plan?
Only by ruthless pinching out
Of all the fairest shoots that sprout,
As on a healthy tree,
From his expanding brain and heart —
Defrauding his diviner part
Of its virility.
5.
And thus shall youthful passion pale
In native force and fire;
And thus shall soaring pinions fail,
Bedraggled in the mire;
This tender conscience, now so bright,
Lose its fine sense of wrong and right —
Dulled with a moral rust;
This ardent intellect be damped,
This eager spirit starved and cramped -
Choked in mediaeval dust.
6.
Thus shall the fettered arm grow numb,
And blind the bandaged eye;
Thus shall the silenced voice grow dumb,
As year by year goes by;
Until at last, from long abuse
And lack of free and wholesome use,
All manhood's powers decline;
And, like a lamp unfed, untrimmed,
Intelligence, once bright, is dimmed,
No more to burn and shine.
7.
Then may we see this sanguine youth —
Born for a nobler lot —
Turn traitor to the highest truth
Because he knows it not;
Serving for Mammon, veiled as God,
Cringing for high- born patron's nod,
For social place and gain,
While he mechanically yields
The produce of his fallow fields —
Husks of long- garnered grain.
8.
No more a brave and honest man,
Whose conscience is his own,
But worse than thief and courtesan
To degradation grown;
A cheat and hypocrite, content,
In shelter of base precedent,
The downward path to tread,
Lest he should lose his Esau's bowl,
That bought the birthright of his soul,
And have to earn his bread.
9.
Or, if remorsefully aware
Of his ignoble case,
Owning himself too weak to dare
A brother's hostile face,
Too weak to stand alone and fight
Against the strong world's might with right —
A leader's part to take;
Dying a daily death in life,
At outward peace and inward strife,
For poor convention's sake.
10.
Let organ music swell and peal,
And priests and people pray,
Let those who can at altar kneel —
I have no heart to stay.
I cannot bear to see it done —
This fresh young life, scarce yet begun,
Closed by that iron door;
A free- born spirit gagged and bound,
Tethered to one small plot of ground,
While all the great world spreads around,
And doomed to fly no more.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Paid In Full
There are wars that are to be won
And there are wars to be lost
There are lives to be saved
And there are lives to be lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are victories that are deserved
And even in those wins, something is lost
There are deaths that are deemed necessary
Despite that, their honor is never lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are people that do not agree
And believe that the world is lost
There are others that say it’s saved
Only if the doubt and negativity are lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are soldiers that believe in a cause
And believe that American values are not lost
There are my bothers that fight on the line
And there are the brave ones that we have lost
It is those who have paid the higher cost
poem by C.R. Ebowski
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Brave New World
Dying swans twisted wings, beauty not needed here
Lost my love, lost my life, in this garden of fear
I have seen many things, in a lifetime alone
Mother love is no more, bring this savage back home
Wilderness house of pain, makes no sense of it all
Close this mind dull this brain, messiah before his fall
What you see is not real, those who know will not tell
All is lost sold your souls to this brave new world
A brave new world, in a brave new world
A brave new world, in a brave new world
In a brave new world, a brave new world
In a brave new world, a brave new world
Dragon kings dying queens, where is salvation now
Lost my life lost my dreams, rip the bones from my flesh
Silent screams laughing here, dying to tell you the truth
You are planned and you are damned in this brave new world
A brave new world, in a brave new world
A brave new world, in a brave new world
In a brave new world, a brave new world
In a brave new world, a brave new world
A brave new world, in a brave new world
A brave new world, in a brave new world
In a brave new world, a brave new world
In a brave new world, a brave new world
Dying swans twisted wings, bring this savage back home
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contentment
Is it a virtue, as the sages say,
The 'trivial round and common task' to ply,
And for no wider walk of life to sigh
Than we were born to; sweetly, day by day,
Our meed of lowly reverence to pay
Our high-placed 'betters'; never to defy
The powers that be; never to kick or cry,
Or think, or question - simply to obey?
Then vice be with us, although blood be shed.
No pact with powers partizan and blind;
No peace with Custom that makes right of wrong.
We shall content us when the starved are fed,
When men and brothers are agreed and kind,
And there is fair play between weak and strong.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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In A Fair World
I cannot empathize with the poor since I'm not in poverty
And I can only imagine how miserable life must be
For those who go to sleep hungry they live with death each day
In a fair World this would not be it would be fair to say.
In a fair World this would not be but all in life's not fair
And thousands are in poverty for every millionaire
In third World Countries every year millions of hunger die
The crops don't grow in rain starved lands, the parched earth far too dry.
In a fair World there would be enough food to go around
And not one hungry person in the whole World to be found
But there is only hunger where poverty reside
And the gap between the haves and have nots has never been so wide.
In a fair World there would not be want and need and very little crime
But the social gap keeps widening despite the march of time
And I who have never lived in the slums or in a third World Land
What it feels like to be really poor could never understand.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Home Of The Brave
Heres to johnny with his jo
And mickeys got a wife
And heres to jerry
He has got his joyce
And me, Im shaking
In my boots tonight
For the daughters and the sons
Lost in the home of the brave
And heres to the home of the brave
And heres to the life thats not saved
Heres to the home of the brave
Heres to the home of the brave
Heres to frank hit in some bar
In picturesque brooklyn heights
And heres to a friend who jumped in front of a train
At seven oclock one night
And another friend who thinks he lacks worth
Has disappeared from sight
Somewhere in the home
Of the brave
And heres to the home of the brave
And heres to the life thats not saved
Heres to the home of the brave
Heres to the home of the brave
The stars are hiding in their clouds
The street lights are too bright
A mans kicking a woman
Whos clutching his leg tight
And I think suddenly of you
And blink my eyes in fright
And rush off to the home
Of the brave
And heres to the home of the brave
Heres to the home of the brave
And heres to the life that is saved
Heres to the home of the brave
And everyday you have to die some
Cry some and die some
And everyday you have to die some
Cry some and die
In the home of the brave
Home of the brave
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miracle Or Inconvenient
progression in soul space
through word play flux
amniotic fluid nurturing
growth in development
placenta prime supply
food oxygen potential
to be or not to be baby
terminated life embraced
plan or choice prevention
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Hunger, The Pang
Our mother earth gives
For one good grain sown
Hundreds of fresh grains
For our food in return.
How many sweet fruits
For a life time she gives
For one seed she takes
As one tree it grows?
Any animal on the land
Or any bird on the air
For its morrow's food
Does it take all the care?
For the food on the ground
How a crow makes a sound
Of 'caw' to call crows around
Just to share what it found?
When big cooked rice balls
An elephant in its mouth takes
A part of it on the floor spills
That feeds hundreds of ants.
But when a have on this earth
For his self, the food he hoards,
Doesn't the have-not's mouth
Go unfed for days countless?
The food in a pompous feast
A junk of it goes as rubbish.
If this goes to the poor atleast
Will that not fulfill God's wish?
The worst pain in the world
Is what the hunger gives
But this can be solved
If all follow the crows.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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Samuel Taylor Coleridge
HIS Soul fared forth (as from the deep home-grove
The father-songster plies the hour-long quest),
To feed his soul-brood hungering in the nest;
But his warm Heart, the mother-bird, above
Their callow fledgling progeny still hove
With tented roof of wings and fostering breast
Till the Soul fed the soul-brood. Richly blest
From Heaven their growth, whose food was Human Love.
Yet ah! Like desert pools that show the stars
Once in long leagues,—even such the scarce-snatched hours
Which deepening pain left to his lordliest powers:—
Heaven lost through spider-trammelled prison-bars.
Six years, from sixty saved! Yet kindling skies
Own them, a beacon to our centuries.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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DUMB PEOPLE...by talile ali
DID JU KNOW
AMERICAS FULL OF DUMB PEOPLE
DID JU KNOW
AMERICA GETS IT ALL WRONG ALL THE TIME
DID JU KNOW
AMERICANS CAN BE SUCH DUMB PEOPLE
THAT IS WHY
I'M SITTIN AND SINGIN THIS SONG
HAVIN SLAVES FOR PROFIT
LIKE HAVIN SIN FOR LIFE
SAYING THAT ONE RACE IS BETTER THAN ANOTHER
CAUSING SO MUCH STRIFE
GREED AND FEAR CAN WARP THE HEARTS DESIRE
MAKE ONE FEEL SO LOST AND SO WITHDRAWN
DID JU KNOW
THE WORLDS FULL OF DUMB PEOPLE
DID JU KNOW
THE WORLDS GOT IT ALL WRONG
HOW'D THE HELL
EVERY BODY GET SO MIXED UP
HOW'D THE HELL
EVERYBODY DO IT SO LONG
THE WORLD IS FULL OF DUMB PEOPLE
THE WORLD IS FULL OF DUMB PEOPLE
IT REALLY IS THE ONLY REASON WE COULD ALLOW THIS SO LONG
THE WORLD IS FULL OF DUMB PEOPLE
THE WORLD IS FULL OF DUMB PEOPLE
WHEN WILL WE STOP GETTING IT ALL WRONG
poem by Talile Ali
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Answers
What is the end of each man's toil,
Brother, O Brother?
A handful of dust in a bit of soil-
His name forgotten as centuries roll,
Though blazoned to-day on Glory's scroll;
For the lordliest work of brain or hand
Is only an imprint made on sand;
When the tidal wave sweeps over the shore
It is there no more,
Brother, my Brother.
Then what is the use of striving at all,
Brother, O Brother?
Because each effort or great or small
Is a step on the long, long road that leads
To the Kingdom of Growth on the River of Deeds:
And that is the kingdom no man can gain
Till he uses his hand and his mind and brain,
And when he has used them and learned control
He finds his soul,
Brother, my Brother.
And after he finds it, what is the end,
Brother, O Brother?
Upward ever its course and trend;
For this is the purpose and aim and plan
To seek in the soul for the Super-man-
The man who is conscious that Heaven is near-
A bulletin bearer from There to Here,
Finding God dwells in the spirit within
Where He ever has been,
Brother, my Brother.
And what will the God-man do when He comes,
Brother, O Brother?
He will better the world or in courts or slums,
He will do in gladness his nearest duty:
He will teach the religion of love and beauty
In field or factory, mine or mart,
While He tells the world of the larger part
And the wider life that is yet to be
When spirit is free,
Brother, my Brother.
When spirit is free, then where will it go,
Brother, O Brother?
Its uttermost summit no man may know,
For it goes up to God in His holy Tower
To gather more knowledge and force and power;
Like a ray of the sun it shall shine again
To brighten new planets and races of men.
Life had no beginning, life has no end,
Brother and friend-
Brother, my Brother.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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To Mrs. Barber
See, the bright Sun renews his annual Course,
Each Beam re--tinges, and revives its Force,
By Years uninjur'd; so may'st thou remain,
Not Time from thee, but thou from Time may'st gain:
O might the Fates thy vital Thread prolong,
And make thy Life immortal, as thy Song!
Less Lustre waits the God, when he refines
The rip'ning Metal in Peruvian Mines;
Brightens the Crystal with transparent Day,
Or points the Di'mond with its sparkling Ray;
Than when, delighted, he thy Soul inspires,
Informs thy Judgment, and thy Fancy fires;
Assists thee striking out some bold Design,
And breathes immortal Honours on each Line:
In common as His Rays on all descend,
So You the Great delight, the Poor befriend:
As Heat productive His bright Beams bestow,
So, warm with Life, your pow'rful Numbers flow:
As He from Clouds bursts forth divinely bright,
So Envy sets You in a fairer Light:
Yet, tho' thus far Similitude we see,
One Thing disturbs the wond'rous Harmony;
With faded Light the Winter Sun appears,
Whilst You shine brighter in Decline of Years.
poem by Mary Barber
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Drunk And Disorderly
Poor, staggering brute, whom one and all disdain!
Maybe 'twas outraged Nature bade him slake
His thirst like this — to still the gnawing ache
Of weary bones that else would ache in vain.
Maybe crushed spirit and stagnating brain
Only in this delirious fever wake
To transient joys of fancy that can take
The sting from want, the bitterness from pain.
Punish the drunkard! Confiscate the bowl!
But give fair wage for work, give health and hope
To check the waste that calls for such repair;
Give food to toil- worn body and starved soul,
And give the pinched imagination scope
For sensuous pleasure in a purer air.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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(Writer Poem) An Effort
With an effort I make
With the world I shall take
With so much at stake
With my soul bare and I hope it does not break
Like a shattered glass
The pieces lie here or me to fix
An alternating existence.
It's there
Then its gone
A sparsity of that fair
Rewriting a song
It is mine
But it is just not right
In darkness it suppose bring light
It has been lost in the age of time
Being taught the new
It must be put into
This is the hammer
This is the nail
It should be oh so familiar
But yet it feels so stale
Strangeness is where it begins
With a story of those who defend
Death parts a hero so brave
A maiden must be saved
Tragedy is where it ends
Evil always wins
He has his advantage
As one puts on a bandage
I all starts to blends
With revenge as the sword
The sadness is never heard
The poison has seeped into the skin
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Everything Was Changed
I once was dead in trespasses and sins
but now am alive in Christ
I once walked in the ways of the world
but now my citizenship is in heaven
Everything was changed when Jesus saved my soul
All things became new and life so rich and full
I once was lost without hope or direction
but now I know where I'm going
I once was far from God and couldn't reach him
but now am made nigh by the blood of Christ
Everything was changed when Jesus saved my soul
All things became new and life so rich and full
I once was a child of the devil
but now I am a child of God
I once was headed for eternal damnation
but now am on my way to eternity in Paradise
Everything was changed when Jesus saved my soul
All things became new and life so rich and full
poem by Cindy Wyatt
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To Rest My Soul
With the passing of every day
Sure I see the parting of lovely way
Lot of change in the official life
Not less change in the actual life
Memory leaves to be kept in file
And to keep the life in distinct style!
End of sixty approaching fast
Work to be done is surely vast!
No more talks, no more notes
No more calls, no more quotes
No more meets, no more pains
No more meets, no more strains!
'No more file' is not 'no more life'
Brighter days to see better life!
The life is long and the world is wide
Lot of things to perform side by side
Society and home, kith and kin
Long forgotten and sent to the bin
Thread to be picked and work to be planned
Spread of good and bad sure to be scanned!
Fast life to go yielding place to new
Full of thrills and frills enjoyed by a few
I have my way, I have my goal
Fast I go to peace where I'll rest my soul!
(Thoughts of a senior official in a Public Sector organization in his early sixtieth year of age-a few months before his retirement)
poem by Subbaraman N V
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A good leader is one who can tell another how to reach his or her potential; a great leader is one who can help another discover this potential for him or herself.
quote by Bo Bennett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon a Fit of Sickness,Anno 1632 Aetatis Suae, 19
Twice ten years old not fully told
since nature gave me breath,
My race is run, my thread spun,
lo, here is fatal death.
All men must die, and so must I;
this cannot be revoked.
For Adam's sake this word God spake
when he so high provoked.
Yet live I shall, this life's but small,
in place of highest bliss,
Where I shall have all I can crave,
no life is like to this.
For what's this but care and strife
since first we came from womb?
Our strength doth waste, our time doth haste,
and then we go to th' tomb.
O bubble blast, how long can'st last?
that always art a breaking,
No sooner blown, but dead and gone,
ev'n as a word that's speaking.
O whilst I live this grace me give,
I doing good may be,
Then death's arrest I shall count best,
because it's Thy decree;
Bestow much cost there's nothing lost,
to make salvation sure,
O great's the gain, though got with pain,
comes by profession pure.
The race is run, the field is won,
the victory's mine I see;
Forever known, thou envious foe,
the foil belongs to thee.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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