The Charge At Port Hudson
'Niggers won't fight' ah ha!
'Niggers won't fight' ah ha!
'They are no good for war,
One in a hundred.'
Let Mississippi's shore,
Flooded with negro gore,
Echo back evermore:
See our six hundred.
Firm as the granite rock,
Full to the cannon's shock,
With a faith none dare mock,
Earth's ties all sundered;
Every man firm in his place
Staring death in the face,
Battling for home and race
Marched our six hundred.
Crash falls the iron hail,
Making the stoutest pale,
All but the bravest fail,
Old veterans wondred.
Fighting with purpose high,
Fighting until they die,
Bravely for liberty,
Fell that six hundred.
Villians that shun the light,
Traitors who hate the right,
Cowards who dare not fight,
Own that ye blundered.
Spurning the name of slave,
Bravest amid the brave,
Each fills a soldier's grave,
Noble six hundred.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
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One Hundred Ripples
One hundred ripples I mark today
One hundred steps along my way
One hundred steps lead to the pond
One hundred trees there do surround
One hundred birds nesting among the trees
One hundred bees filling the air with these
One hundred bees buzzing about in the air
One hundred flowers are pollinating there
One hundred flowers provide the aromas sweet
For one hundred bouquets given to lovers as treat
One hundred lovers walk the winding pathway
One hundred times to find romance there each day
One hundred times they will reach to explore
One hundred pebbles found along the pond shore
One hundred pebbles carry wishes through the air
One hundred ripples on surface creating there
One hundred ripples then spreading out will begin
One hundred waves soon lapping at the shore again
One hundred waves providing the means for
One hundred more pebbles to reach the shore
One hundred pebbles scatter along the pathway
One hundred steps retraced at the end of the day
One hundred small steps... this latest poem was conceived to denote
One hundred little ripples... spreading from 100 poems I wrote
poem by Mary Havran
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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Charge Of The Light Brigade
HALF a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade ?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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One Hundred Punks
They customised their gear and synchronised
(They)flame out in the streets with flame in their eyes
Guerilla operator ain't heard of cool
Check out any wall - one hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
A hundred punks run with London town
Down Wardour Street to the Soho Sound
Don't sleep all week only when they fall down
A hundred Rumble boys and Tumble girls
Protected by steel in a private world
Tomorrow's famous faces advertise today
And the studs on their back say
One hundred punks rule
A hundred punks run the loaded gun
They look so sharp they look like one
If you ain't got the look you'll never be one
A hundred punks run with total suss
A hundred good mates you know you can trust
There's never no bother and there's no fuss
Check out any wall - one hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
And Jimmy's no.101 knows one day he'll be One
Watch him - watch him Go!
A hundred punks run the leather army
I know whose by my side not at home with TV
Even when I'm down I hear them sing for me
Check out any wall - One hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
Check out any wall - One hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
Check out - One hundred punks rule O.K.
song performed by by Offspring
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Hundred Punks
They customised their gear and synchronised
(they)flame out in the streets with flame in their eyes
Guerilla operator aint heard of cool
Check out any wall - one hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
A hundred punks run with london town
Down wardour street to the soho sound
Dont sleep all week only when they fall down
A hundred rumble boys and tumble girls
Protected by steel in a private world
Tomorrows famous faces advertise today
And the studs on their back say
One hundred punks rule
A hundred punks run the loaded gun
They look so sharp they look like one
If you aint got the look youll never be one
A hundred punks run with total suss
A hundred good mates you know you can trust
Theres never no bother and theres no fuss
Check out any wall - one hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
And jimmys no.101 knows one day hell be one
Watch him - watch him go!
A hundred punks run the leather army
I know whose by my side not at home with tv
Even when Im down I hear them sing for me
Check out any wall - one hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
Check out any wall - one hundred punks rule
One hundred punks rule
Check out - one hundred punks rule o.k.
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Loss Of The Royal George
Written when the news arrived.
Toll for the brave!
The brave that are no more!
All sunk beneath the wave
Fast by their native shore.
Eight hundred of the brave,
Whose courage well was tried,
Had made the vessel heel,
And laid her on her side.
A land-breeze shook the shrouds,
And she was overset;
Down went the Royal George,
With all her crew complete.
Toll for the brave!
Brave Kempenfelt is gone;
His last sea-fight is fought,
His work of glory done.
It was not in the battle,
No tempest gave the shock,
She sprang no fatal leak,
She ran upon no rock.
His sword was in its sheath,
His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfelt went down
With twice four hundred men.
Weigh the vessel up,
Once dreaded by our foes;
And mingle with our cup
The tears that England owes.
Her timbers yet are sound,
And she may float again
Full charged with England's thunder,
And plough the distant main.
But Kempenfelt is gone,
His victories are o'er;
And he and his eight hundred
Shall plough the wave no more.
poem by William Cowper
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Five Hundred Miles Away From Home
(bobby bare, charlie williams, hedy west)
Tear drops fell on mamas note
When I read the things she wrote
She said, we miss you girl
We love you come on home
Well I didnt have to pack
I had it all right on my back
Now Im five hundred miles away from home
Chorus:
Away from home, away from home
Cold and tired and all alone
Yes, Im five hundred miles away from home
Its hard to tell the state Im in
Where Im going, where Ive been
But theres a dream Ive been following so long
If mama knew the things Ive done
Shed forgive them everyone
But Im still five hundred miles away from home
Repeat chorus
Cant remember when I ate its just thumb and walk and wait
And Im still five hundred miles away from home
If my luck had been just right Id be with them all tonight
But Im still five hundred miles away from home
Repeat chorus
Lord, Im still five hundred miles away from home
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Hundred Years
It doesn't matter if we all die
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time
A story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth
And we laugh
A prayer for something better
A prayer
For something better
Please love me
Meet my mother
But the fear takes hold
Creeping up the stairs in the dark
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
Fighting for freedom on the television
Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
Have we got everything?
She struggles to get away . . .
The pain
And the creeping feeling
A little black haired girl
Waiting for saturday
The death of her father pushing her
Pushing her white face into the mirror
Aching inside me
And turn me round
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Caressing an old man
And painting a lifeless face
Just a piece of new meat in a clean room
The soldiers close in under a yellow moon
All shadows and deliverance
Under a black flag
A hundred years of blood
Crimson
The ribbon tightens round my throat
I open my mouth
And my head bursts open
A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
Thrashing in the water
Over and over
We die one after the other
Over and over
We die one after the other
One after the other
One after the other
One after the other
One after the other
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
One hundred years
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A hundred tailors, a hundred millers, and a hundred weavers make three hundred thieves.
A hundred tailors, a hundred millers, and a hundred weavers, are three hundred thieves.
A hundred bakers, a hundred millers, and a hundred tailors are three hundred thieves.
From the Bush
The Channel fog has lifted –
And see where we have come!
Round all the world we've drifted,
A hundred years from "home".
The fields our parents longed for –
Ah! we shall ne'er know how –
The wealth that they were wronged for
We'll see as strangers now!
The Dover cliffs have passed on –
In the morning light aglow –
That our fathers looked their last on
A weary time ago.
Now grin, and grin your bravest!
We need be strong to fight;
For you go home to picture
And I go home to write.
Hold up your head in England,
Tread firm on London streets;
We come from where the strong heart
Of all Australia beats!
Hold up your head in England
However poor you roam!
For no men are your betters
Who never sailed from home!
From a hundred years of hardships –
'Tis ours to tell the cost –
From a thousand miles of silence
Where London would be lost;
From where the glorious sunset
On sweeps of mulga glows –
Ah! we know more than England,
And more than Europe knows!
Hold up your head in London,
However poor you come,
For no man is your better
Who never sailed from home!
Our "home" and foreign fathers,
Where none but men dared go,
Have done more for the White Man
Than England e'er shall know!
poem by Henry Lawson
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The difference is slight, to the influence of an author, whether he is read by five hundred readers, or by five hundred thousand; if he can select the five hundred, he reaches the five hundred thousand.
quote by Henry B. Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ninety-nine And A Half
I got to have all your love, night and day.
Not just a little part, but all of your heart, sugar.
Chorus:
Ninety-nine and a half just won't do.
Oh, no, no, just won't get it.
Don' t be led in the wrong direction.
To start this thing off right, a man need a little love and affection,
Yes he do, now.
Chorus
All right. lookie here,
We got to bring it all down, start gettin' it right.
We got to stop this messin' around, and keep the thing up tight,
Yes we do, now.
Chorus
All right, sugar.
Got to have a hundred,
Got to have a hundred.
All right.
Ooh, i must do, i must do,
I must do now.
Oh! got to have a hundred!
Got to have a hundred!
Oh! got to have a hu-hu-hu-hu-hu-hundred, too right.
Got to have a hundred, now. oh!
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ninety-nine & A Half
I got to have all your love, night and day.
Not just a little part, but all of your heart, sugar.
Chorus:
Ninety-nine and a half just wont do.
Oh, no, no, just wont get it.
Don t be led in the wrong direction.
To start this thing off right, a man need a little love and affection,
Yes he do, now.
Chorus
All right. lookie here,
We got to bring it all down, start gettin it right.
We got to stop this messin around, and keep the thing up tight,
Yes we do, now.
Chorus
All right, sugar.
Got to have a hundred,
Got to have a hundred.
All right.
Ooh, I must do, I must do,
I must do now.
Oh! got to have a hundred!
Got to have a hundred!
Oh! got to have a hu-hu-hu-hu-hu-hundred, too right.
Got to have a hundred, now. oh!
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Niggers
You look at me and ask yourself
Who am I?
What am I?
What have I to do?
I`m an African American, Black, nothing more
Why do I have to pay for my ancestors breaking that barrier,
For them proving your race,
That they didn't need your 'expertise',
they didn't need your education
Nor did they need your approval
To be what we all are today.
You look at me
You think,
My America is full of these 'niggers'
Who made your America
Full of trash
Full of ignorance
Full of cirme
We will never be white
Yet you forget that once America put up such a fight
With these non-whites,
Theses 'niggers'
These folks full of color,
And who do you think won?
Look around you.
What do you see,
Nothing but minorities all around
All about
Be careful for soon you will be slapped in the face when you see that you are now working for these'niggers'....
poem by Kendra Sanders
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On Wall Street he and a few others - how many? three hundred, four hundred, five hundred? had become precisely that... Masters of the Universe.
The Priceless
Hello, My dear Vendor!
‘Could you sell me a guitar? ’
‘Why not, come in, my Master!
Take it, a brand new, for a hundred.’
‘Is the other less the cost, as looking old? ’
‘Yes, yes, it is only half a hundred.
Should you go for a secondhand? ’
‘The one still old, kept yonder? ’
‘An antique, well above ten hundred.’
‘O, My God! Useless, still priceless! ’
22.02.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Your Mandate
you do not like the image of the bird with a hundred eyes
and he follows you because he loves you
he exercises restraint on his fingers and sketches a petal
you want more of it and so he draws a rose with lots of red petals
just to please you but
deep within him he wants to be that bird with a hundred eyes
on a hundred wings to fly the thousand filaments of winds
but because he loves you he stays as a hand waiting
for your orders
time knows how to make a solution and
it takes you with the hard grip of its hands
your breath is taken away
and he buries you immediately deeper than you expect
to the dampness of
the earth
now he becomes a bird with a hundred eyes and a hundred wings
so free so delighted
he does not even want to mention your name ever again
despite the fact that he still loves you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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