Politics
That land full surely hastens to its end
Where public sycophants in homage bend
The populace to flatter, and repeat
The doubled echoes of its loud conceit.
Lowly their attitude but high their aim,
They creep to eminence through paths of shame,
Till, fixed securely in the seats of pow'r,
The dupes they flattered they at last devour.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Related quotes
Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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After the Hunt
Underneath the windy mountain walls
Forth we rode, an eager band,
By the surges and the verges and the gorges,
Till the night was on the land—
On the hazy, mazy land!
Far away the bounding prey
Leapt across the ruts and logs,
But we galloped, galloped, galloped on,
Till we heard the yapping of the dogs—
The yapping and the yelping of the dogs.
Oh, it was a madly merry day
We shall not so soon forget,
And the edges and the ledges and the ridges
Haunt us with their echoes yet—
Echoes, echoes, echoes yet!
While the moon is on the hill
Gleaming through the streaming fogs,
Don’t you hear the yapping of the dogs—
The yapping and the yelping of the dogs?
poem by Henry Kendall
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Sailors Lament
Woke up early feelin light, (shame, its a shame.)
Somebody got to me last night, (shame, its a shame.)
Sat down for a friendly duel, (shame, its a shame.)
With one-eyed jacks n jokers, too, (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus:
Ooh, sailor man, (shame, its a shame.)
Ooh, sailor man. (shame, its a shame.)
Poormouth henry turned on me, (shame, its a shame.)
Said, boy, Im gonna pick you clean. (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus
Oh!
Henry said, dont you mess that pile, (shame, its a shame.)
Had three aces n he had five. (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus
Shame, its a shame.
(repeat 5x)
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revolution
Love lies bleeding, from the east now to the west
Im waiting to put your loving to the test
* I need to know, I need to give
I need to feel to breathe and live
Im cutting loose and Im breaking out
Im goin to leave you baby in no doubt cause
** this will be my own revolution
With a burning flag held high
I will make my own constitution
Till the day I die
Sensations in every move that you ever make
Revelations what you now give you cant take
* repeat
** repeat
[instrumental]
If hell is to give Im wondering what Im going to do
And I just couldnt see, oh and how
My feelings run hot and I just couldnt stop now
** repeat
** repeat
** repeat
Till the day I die, till the day I die, till the day I die....
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shame smites terribly.
The child has not got shame;
The old have shed their shame.
The mighty are immune to shame;
The lowly haven’t built shame.
There smites nothing so sharp
As shame for those in between.
05.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To flatter and follow others, without being flattered and followed in turn, is but a state of half enjoyment.
quote by Jane Austen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Demons And Ghosts
You have stolen my 'todays', yet you shan't steal my tomorrow-
Thought upon your deceitful ruse surely hastens sorrow!
Nary shall there be, for you, a proper penance,
Somehow though, you must come to truth's acceptance!
The only way to take leave of your deceit-
Is to allow for my truth to defeat,
All the Demons and Ghosts
Responsible for your shame, the most!
For if but only, our children's posterity
You owe, at the least, your honesty!
Without such, your downfall you have surely brought,
As is, to tell the truth, is what you ought!
They say: 'the truth shall set you free'-at least you, it shall keep-
Otherwise choice made, causes my heart's weep!
3 August 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Flattering
Unless you flatter, you cannot prosper;
Unless you butter, you cannot better.
Flattered and buttered by someone, be not carried away without reason and wisdom.
15.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do It Again
(graham russell)
I used to watch you walk away
Till the road you take would bend
I was the man to turn you on
And you knew it after all
Come tomorrow when Im all weary
You would turn me down again
At least thats the way I can remember
(chorus)
Do it again, do it again, do it again
Do it again, do it again, do it again
Every single word you told me got home
Im still thinking about them
Every little secret we should have known
And we cant live without them
You surely started something
You surely gave me something new
(chorus)
And I do think about you each now and then
And each time it gets tighter
From the road I can see the last break
And my heads getting lighter
You surely started something
You surely gave me something...you
(chorus)
You surely started something
You surely gave me something ...you
(chorus)
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of The Deep
A parched land,
Prisoners,
And to walk through the wilderness!
Fatherless,
Motherless,
Orphans;
But unity in family is the key!
Provided,
Establishes,
Enjoyments;
Securely fixed together is the muse of your love,
And like the fountains of the deep.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Disease Of Conceit
Theres a whole lot of people suffering tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people struggling tonight with the disease of conceit
Comes right down the highway, straight down the line
Rips into your senses, through your body and your mind
Nothing about it thats sweet
The disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of hearts breaking tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of hearts shaking tonight from the disease of conceit
Steps into your room, eats into your soul
Over your senses you have no control
Aint nothing too discreet
About the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people dying tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people crying tonight from the disease of conceit
Comes right outta nowhere and youre down for the count
From the outside world the pressure will mount
Turn you into a piece of meat
The disease of conceit
Conceit is a disease but the doctors got no cure
They done a lot of research on it but what it is theyre still not sure
Theres a whole lot of people in trouble tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people seein double tonight from the disease of conceit
If your delusions of grandeur and an evil eye
Give you the idea that youre too good to die
Then they bury you from your head to your feet
From the disease of conceit
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reading The Poems Of Other People
honestly i should be flattered
why you keep on
following every poem
that i have written
i know how hard it is since
there are thousands and
thousands
of these
posts,
i know what you think
that poems are maps
towards
who i am really
roads that lead to a
city
a rainbow that gives
the myth
that at the end of it
is the
pot of gold
you really flatter me
but what if these are not
maps
or there is no rainbow
of there is no
pot of gold?
what if we have the same
thinking
that there is really no
self
no city
no map
what if there are only
whims
or there is only shame
or death
what if
these are just footsteps
of a lost man
and at the end there
is only a cliff
where the man jumped
and killed
himself
it could be
so horrible
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So What The Fuss
If I'm caught at a dance party without my dancin shoes
And everybody dances on my bare feet
Shame on me
If I'm mindin my business just doin the right thing
And you try to front me off in the street
Shame on you
If a family's waiting for that special blessing to
come their way
But they ain't tryin to get on their knees and pray
Shame on them
And if we live in a time where every nation's fightin
'round the world
Yet we can't all agree that peace is the way
Shame on us
Shame on me, Shame on you, Shame on them, Shame on us
(repeat)
So what the fuss
If I gotta get up early in the morning for a job
interview
And I forget to set the stupid alarm
Shame on me
If my children are playin outside like little children
do
And you come 'round there tryin to bring them some
harm
Shame on you
Should I be drivin thru a klantown, find a restaurant
to get me some food
And someone says "hey boy, we don't serve your kind"
Shame on them
And if we live in a democracy and you don't use your
power to vote
Knowin some would like to turn back the hands of time
Shame on us
Shame on me, Shame on you, Shame on them, Shame on us
(repeat)
So what the fuss
If I'm hooked on a habit knowin damn well it could
cost me my life
Yet I keep doin what I should do without
Shame on me
If you're locked in a marriage and your other half
just gives you abuse
Yet you've convinced yourself that there's no way out
Shame on you
If we're jammin the music and somebody's got the
audacity
To say that they can jam it better than us
Shame on them
And should there be just a handful that believe that
we are totally free
And there's no need to fight for equality
Shame on us
Shame on me, Shame on you, Shame on them, Shame on us
(repeat)
So what the fuss
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fan The Fire
Maurice white, donald whitehead & wade flemons
**ohh its a shame
Its a shame its a shame
The flame of love is about to die
Somebody fan the fire
The flame of love is about to die
Somebody fan the fire
Love is dyin today
Somebody fan the fire
The flame of love is dyin I say
We gonna fan the fire, come on along
Little children starving in a foreign land,
Talk about it brother
Man afraid to shake his brothers hand
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
Woman in trouble callin but nobody cares
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
People denied the rights that are truly
Theirs
(its a shame)
*i believe I believe
(I believe I believe)
I believe I believe
(I believe I believe)
I believe the flame of love is about to die
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
I believe the flame of love is about to die
The flame of love is about to die
Somebody fan the fire
Flame of love is about to die
Were gonna fan the fire, come on along.
Violence striking down great men of peace
Poverty in the homes and crime in the streets
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
Kind-hearted people turnin to hate
(fan the fire, fan the fire)
Mans about to destroy the human race
(its a shame)
(*repeat)
(its a shame)
(* * repeat)
I believe the flame of love is about to die
(repeat)
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Bird Has Flown
Once I thought I'd surely die
Without your precious loving kindness,
But now I really wonder why
I suffered from such a naive blindness.
I've found bigger fish to fry -
I'll go my own way, just you see,
Gone are the nights I'd sit and cry
And write such awful poetry.
It was my slavish attitude
That made me write such second-rate verse
That was full of cliche and platitude
And it was going from bad to worse!
I suppose it is a lover's curse
To imagine he'll come to a sticky end,
He'll end up in some rose-strewn hearse
Or else go completely round the bend!
Your company was my delight,
I swore I'd love you till I die,
You were an angel in my sight
And that's something that I won't deny.
But it was just a cul-de-sac
That I was trapped in for a while -
The memories come flooding back
How I was conquered by your smile.
But that's enough! Now times have changed,
I'll seek a future of my own,
My priorities are rearranged,
The little bird of love has flown.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Weekend Song
Monday morning is not monday morning
'till taylor has his coffee
Friday night is not friday night
'till jesse leaves the room sweaty
Tuesday morning is not tuesday morning
'till nick has his talk with his son
Thursday night is not thursday night
'till chris has sex with his bass
Come on to the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause there's too much time to think
And there will be nice skies
Tuesday morning is wednesday afternoon
When you cry all night
Wednesday early we fall into work
All caught up in the day by day
Thursday morning is not thursday morning
'till (alanis???) says how's your life
How's your life?
Yeah how's your life
How's your life?
Come on to the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get by
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause there's too much time to think and not much time to cry
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause the weekend we'll be high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause there'll be no time but we'll get by
What if there were no more mama's boys
What if no one shares their humble appearance
What there were no consequences
What if there were no more arguments
Well that'd be a shame
Wouldn't that be impossible
And you would be bored
'cause you wouldn't want it a little too late...
Hold on 'till the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get by
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause the man upstairs has the really nice skies
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause we may look strange but we surely will get by
What if there were no more mama's boys
What if we all had no thinking together
Wouldn't that be a shame...
Wouldn't that be impossible
And you would be bored
'cause you wouldn't want it any other way...
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revelations
I am lost inside myself
Thoughts foggy and slow
Trying, trying to corrall them
Gather them
Trying to wade through,
Make sense
Separate
Them
Yet...
I can hardly think
To begin with
I am lost inside myself
Or am I lost outside myself
A wandering soul
Misshapen and aimless
In a no man's land
Barren and colorless
Full of
Hopelessness
Full of
Fear
Full of
Sorrow
So much pain
In my shame
I am alone,
Empty,
Gone
To a nowhere
A place with no name
The world is full of suffering
And we are all to blame
Smoke and mirrors
The whole world is a stage
A broken facade
The evil peeks through
Wasting time on nonsense
Like we have something
To prove
Living our days
As if the future is far away
How much time do we
Have left?
Is it years?
Is it hours?
Don't you feel something like death...
Coming to devour
Us all?
poem by Erika Wingo
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Rowers Chant
Row till the land dip 'neath
The sea from view.
Row till a land peep up,
A home for you.
Row till the mast sing songs
Welcome and sweet.
Row till the waves, out-stripped,
Give up dead beat.
Row till the sea-nymphs rise
To ask you why
Rowing you tarry not
To hear them sigh.
Row till the stars grow bright
Like certain eyes.
Row till the noon be high
As hopes you prize.
Row till you harbour in
All longing's port.
Row till you find all things
For which you sought.
poem by Thomas Sturge Moore
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The Rower's Chant
ROW till the land dip 'neath
The sea from view.
Row till a land peep up,
A home for you.
Row till the mast sing songs
Welcome and sweet,
Row till the waves, outstripped,
Give up, dead beat.
Row till the sea-nymphs rise
To ask you why
Rowing you tarry not
To hear them sigh.
Row till the stars grow bright
Like certain eyes.
Row till the noon be high
As hopes you prize.
Row till you harbour in
All longing's port.
Row till you find all things
For which you sought.
poem by Thomas Sturge Moore
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Modern Love XXVIII: I Must Be Flattered
I must be flattered. The imperious
Desire speaks out. Lady, I am content
To play with you the game of Sentiment,
And with you enter on paths perilous;
But if across your beauty I throw light,
To make it threefold, it must be all mine.
First secret; then avowed. For I must shine
Envied,--I, lessened in my proper sight!
Be watchful of your beauty, Lady dear!
How much hangs on that lamp you cannot tell.
Most earnestly I pray you, tend it well:
And men shall see me as a burning sphere;
And men shall mark you eyeing me, and groan
To be the God of such a grand sunflower!
I feel the promptings of Satanic power,
While you do homage unto me alone.
poem by George Meredith
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