Granny Discovers Another Tiger
That's him!! The authentic, identical beast!
The Unionist tiger, full brother to 'Sosh'!
I know by the prowl of him.
Hark to the growl of him,
While all the people ejaculate 'Gosh!
Just look at him glarin' an' starin', by thunder!
Now each for himself and the weakest goes under.'
Beware this injurious, furious brute;
He's ready to rend you with tooth and with claw.
Though 'tis incredible,
Anything edible
Disappears suddenly into his maw;
Into his cavernous inner interior
Vanishes ev'rything strictly superior.
My dears, I've autoptical, optical proof
That he's prowling and growling at large in the land.
Hear his pestiferous
Clamor vociferous
Urging to war his belligerent band!
Talk about Circe and - who's this - Ulysses!
Never was monster so monstrous as this is.
I've watched this abdomenous, omnious shape
Abroad in the land while the nation has slept,
Marked his satanical
Methods tyrannical;
Rigorous, vigorous vigil I kept.
He has wicked designs on all right-thinking people!
Proclaim it aloud from the housetop and steeple!
He lays his corrodible, odible plans
While cutely disguising his ultimate claims.
Into your auricle
Words oratorical
He will declaim with ulterior aims.
And if as a foe he should happen to spot us,
One gulp - and his great epiglottis has got us!
The tremulous, emulous workers he snares
By most reprehensible, tensible schemes.
Slyly insidious,
Vilely invidious
Are his designs to encourage their dreams.
But watch, when they're under his dominant digit,
His finical, cynical smile as they fidget.
The shockingly punitive, unitive means
He uses to battle with enterprise private
Are indefensible
Quite reprehensible.
Lord only knows what at last he'll arrive at!
And when he has swallowed the whole of the nation
He'll probably start on self-assimilation.
He scoffs at convenient, lenient laws
He'd scoff every toff in the House known as Upper
If he'd a precedent;
Every resident
In the best suburb would serve him for supper.
Good gravious, voracious is hardly the name for it!
Yet we have only our blindness to blame for it.
For mark, his insidious, hideous creed
He propagates even 'mid grocers and drapers,
And they give ear to it,
Bow, and adhere to it,
'Spite all the capers of well-informed papers.
For e'en with the aid of an lens omphaloptic
They can't see the glare in his obdurate optic.
Then 'ware this obstreperous, leperous beast!
A treacherous wretch, for I know him of old.
I'm on th etrack of him,
Close at the back of him,
Tight on his tail I have taken a hold.
And if I gave over my earnest endeavor,
The nation were lodged in his larynx for ever.
It's him!! The authentic, identical beast!
I know him 'The Unionist,' brother to 'Sosh'!
See how I'm holding him,
Nagging and scolding him,
While he is yearning his betters to squash;
Yearning and burning to snare the superior
Into his roomy and gloomy interior
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Rhymes of Sym
Nobody knew why it should be so;
Nobody knew or wanted to know.
It might have been checked had but someone dared
To trace its beginnings; but nobody cared.
But 'twas clear to the wise that the Glugs of those days
Were crazed beyond reason concerning a craze.
They would pass a thing by for a week or a year,
With an air apathetic, or maybe a sneer:
Some ev'ryday thing, like a crime or a creed,
A mode or a movement, and pay it small heed,
Till Somebody started to laud it aloud;
Then all but the Nobodies followed the crowd.
Thus, Sym was a craze; tho', to give him his due,
He would rather have strayed from the popular view.
But once the Glugs had him they held him so tight
That he could not be nobody, try as he might.
He had to be Somebody, so they decreed.
For Craze is an appetite, governed by Greed.
So on Saturday week to the Great Market Square
Came every Glug who could rake up his fare.
They came from the suburbs, they came from the town,
There came from the country Glugs bearded and brown,
Rich Glugs, with cigars, all well-tailored and stout,
Jostled commonplace Glugs who dropped aitches about.
There were gushing Glug maids, well aware of their charms,
And stern, massive matrons with babes in their arms.
There were querulous dames who complained of the 'squash,'
The pushing and squeezing; for, briefly, all Gosh,
With its aunt and its wife, stood agape in the ranks
Excepting Sir Stodge and his satellite Swanks.
The Mayor of Quog took the chair for the day;
And he made them a speech, and he ventured to say
That a Glug was a Glug, and the Cause they held dear
Was a very dear Cause. And the Glugs said, 'Hear, hear.'
Then Sym took the stage to a round of applause
From thousands who suddenly found they'd a Cause.
We strive together in life's crowded mart,
Keen-eyed, with clutching hands to over-reach.
We scheme, we lie, we play the selfish part,
Masking our lust for gain with gentle speech;
And masking too - O pity ignorance!
Our very selves behind a careless glance.
Ah, foolish brothers, seeking e'er in vain
The one dear gift that liesso near at hand;
Hoping to barter gold we meanly gain
For that the poorest beggar in the land
Holds for his own, to hoard while yet he spends;
Seeking fresh treasure in the hearts of friends.
We preach; yet do we deem it worldly-wise
To count unbounded brother-love a shame,
So, ban the brother-look from out our eyes,
Lest sparks of sympathy be fanned to flame.
We smile; and yet withhold, in secret fear,
The word so hard to speak, so sweet to hear -
The Open Sesame to meanest hearts,
The magic word, to which stern eyes grow soft,
And crafty faces, that the cruel marts
Have seared and scored, turn gentle - Nay, how oft
It trembles on the lip to die unppoke,
And dawning love is stifled with a joke.
Nay, brothers, look about your world to-day:
A world to you so drab, so commonplace
The flowers still are blooming by the way,
As blossom smiles upon the sternest face.
In everv hour is born some thought of love;
In every heart is hid some treasure-trove.
With a modified clapping and stamping of feet
The Glugs mildly cheered him, as Sym took his seat.
But some said 'twas clever, and some said 'twas grand
More especially those who did not understand.
And some said, with frowns, tho' the words sounded plain,
Yet it had a deep meaning they craved to explain.
But the Mayor said: Silence! He wished to observe
That a Glug was a Glug; and in wishing to serve
This glorious Cause, which they'd asked him to lead,
They had proved they were Glugs of the noble old breed
That made Gosh what it was . . . and he'd ask the police
To remove that small boy while they heard the next piece.
'Now come,' said the Devil, he said to me,
With his swart face all a-grin,
'This day, ere ever the clock strikes three,
Shall you sin your darling sin.
For I've wagered a crown with Beelzebub,
Down there at the Gentlemen's Brimstone Club,
I shall tempt you once, I shall tempt you twice,
Yet thrice shall you fall ere I tempt you thrice.'
'Begone, base Devil!' I made reply -
'Begone with your fiendish grin!
How hope you to profit by such as I?
For I have no darling sin.
But many there be, and I know them well,
All foul with sinning and ripe for Hell.
And I name no names, but the whole world knows
That I am never of such as those.'
'How nowt' said the Devil. 'I'll spread my net,
And I vow I'll gather you in!
By this and by that shall I win my bet,
And you shall sin the sin!
Come, fill up a bumper of good red wine,
Your heart shall sing, and your eye shall shine,
You shall know such joy as you never have known.
For the salving of men was the good vine grown.'
'Begone, red Devil!' I made reply.
'Parch shall these lips of mine,
And my tongue shall shrink, and my throat go dry,
Ere ever I taste your wine!
But greet you shall, as I know full well,
A tipsy score of my friends in Hell.
And I name no names, but the whole world wots
Most of my fellows are drunken sots.'
'Ah, ha!' said the Devil. 'You scorn the wine!
Thrice shall you sin, I say,
To win me a crown from a friend of mine,
Ere three o' the clock this day.
Are you calling to mind some lady fair?
And is she a wife or a maiden rare?
'Twere folly to shackle young love, hot Youth;
And stolen kisses are sweet, forsooth!'
'Begone, foul Devil!' I made reply;
'For never in all my life
Have I looked on a woman with lustful eye,
Be she maid, or widow, or wife.
But my brothers! Alas! I am scandalized
By their evil passions so ill disguised.
And I name no names, but my thanks I give
That I loathe the lives my fellow-men live.'
'Ho, ho!' roared the Devil in fiendish glee.
''Tis a silver crown I win!
Thrice have you fallen! 0 Pharisee,
You have sinned your darling sin!'
'But, nay,' said I; 'and I scorn your lure.
I have sinned no sin, and my heart is pure.
Come, show me a sign of the sin you see!'
But the Devil was gone . . . and the clock struck three.
With an increase of cheering and waving of hats
While the little boys squealed, and made noises like cats
The Glugs gave approval to Sym's second rhyme.
And some said 'twas thoughtful, and some said 'twas prime;
And some said 'twas witty, and had a fine end:
More especially those who did not comprehend.
And some said with leers and with nudges and shrugs
That, they mentioned no names, but it hit certain Glugs.
And others remarked, with superior smiles,
While dividing the metrical feet into miles,
That the thing seemed quite simple, without any doubt,
But the anagrams in it would need thinking out.
But the Mayor said, Hush! And he wished to explain
That in leading this Movement he'd nothing to gain.
He was ready to lead, since they trusted him so;
And, wherever he led he was sure Glugs would go.
And he thanked them again, and craved peace for a time,
While this gifted young man read his third and last rhyme.
(To sing you a song and a sensible song is a worthy and excellent thing;
But how could I sing you that sort of a song, if there's never a song to sing?)
At ten to the tick, by the kitchen clock, I marked him blundering by,
With his eyes astare, and his rumpled hair, and his hat cocked over his eye.
Blind, in his pride, to his shoes untied, he went with a swift jig-jog,
Off on the quest, with a strange unrest, hunting the Feasible Dog.
And this is the song, as he dashed along, that he sang with a swaggering swing
(Now how had I heard him singing a song if he hadn't a song to sing?)
'I've found the authentic, identical beast!
The Feasible Dog, and the terror of Gosh!
I know by the prowl of him.
Hark to the growl of him!
Heralding death to the subjects of Splosh.
Oh, look at him glaring and staring, by thunder!
Now each for himself, and the weakest goes under!
'Beware this injurious, furious brute;
He's ready to rend you with tooth and with claw.
Tho' 'tis incredible,
Anything edible
Disappears suddenly into his maw:
Into his cavernous inner interior
Vanishes evrything strictly superior.'
He calls it 'Woman,' he calls it 'Wine,' he calls it 'Devils' and 'Dice';
He calls it 'Surfing' and 'Sunday Golf' and names that are not so nice.
But whatever he calls it-'Morals' or 'Mirth'-he is on with the hunt right quick
For his sorrow he'd hug like a gloomy Gllig if he hadn't a dog to kick.
So any old night, if the stars are right, vou will find him, hot on the trail
Of a feasible dog and a teasable dog, with a can to tie to his tail.
And the song that he roars to the shuddering stars is a worthy and excellent thing.
(Yet how could you hear him singing a song if there wasn't a song to sing?)
'I've watched his abdominous, ominous shape
Abroad in the land while the nation has slept,
Marked his satanical
Methods tyrannical;
Rigorous, vigorous vigil I kept.
Good gracious! Voracious is hardly the name for it!
Yet we have only our blindness to blame for it.
'My dear, I've autoptical, optical proof
That he's prowling and growling at large in the land.
Hear his pestiferous
Clamour vociferous,
Gurgles and groans of the beastliest brand.
Some may regard his contortions as comical.
But I've the proof that his game's gastronomical.
'Beware this obstreperous, leprous beast -
A treacherous wretch, for I know him of old.
I'm on the track of him,
Close at the back of him,
And I'm aware his ambitions are bold;
For he's yearning and burning to snare the superior
Into his roomy and gloomy interior.'
Such a shouting and yelling of hearty Bravoes,
Such a craning of necks and a standing on toes
Seemed to leave ne'er a doubt that the Tinker's last rhyme
Had now won him repute 'mid the Glugs for all time.
And they all said the rhyme was the grandest they'd heard:
More especially those who had not caught a word.
But the Mayor said: Peace! And he stood, without fear,
As the leader of all to whom Justice was dear.
For the Tinker had rhymed, as the Prophet foretold,
And a light was let in on the errors of old.
For in every line, and in every verse
Was the proof that Sir Stodge was a traitor, and worse!
Sir Stodge (said the Mayor), must go from his place;
And the Swanks, one and all, were a standing disgrace!
For the influence won o'er a weak, foolish king
Was a menace to Gosh, and a scandalous thing!
'And now,' said the Mayor, 'I stand here to-day
As your leader and friend.' And the Glugs said, 'Hooray!'
Then they went to their homes in the suburbs and town;
To their farms went the Glugs who were bearded and brown.
Portly Glugs with cigars went to dine at their clubs,
While illiterate Glugs had one more at the pubs.
And each household in Gosh sat and talked half the night
Of the wonderful day, and the imminent fight.
Forgetting the rhymer, forgetting his rhymes,
They talked of Sir Stodge and his numerous crimes.
There was hardly a C3lug in the whole land of Gosh
Who'd a lenient word to put in for King Splosh.
One and all, to the mangiest, surliest dog,
Were quite eager to bark for his Worship of Quog.
Forgotten, unnoticed, Sym wended his way
To his lodging in Gosh at the close of the day.
And 'twas there, to his friend and companion of years
To his little red dog with the funny prick ears
That he poured out his woe; seeking nothing to hide;
And the little dog listened, his head on one side.
'O you little red dog, you are weary as I.
It is days, it is months since we saw the blue sky.
And it seems weary years since we sniffed at the breeze
As it hms thro' the hedges and sings in the trees.
These we know and we love. But this city holds fears,
O my friend of the road, with the funny prick ears.
And for what me we hope from his Worship of Quog?'
'Oh, and a bone, and a kick,' said the little red dog.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Logic Of Anti-Sosh
Mister Chairman; - er - ah - when
We right-thinking business men
Are treated with much scant - um - er - civility,
I say the time has come
For us to - er - ah - um -
To defend our rights and - er - respectability.
We are right, sir, to defend
Our interests. And the trend
Of present legislation is - fantastic, sir.
That is - er - the only word
To describe it. It's absurd!
And calls for opposition - um - er - drastic, sir!
And - ah - sir. I think I can
Say this meeting to a man
Is distinctly Anti-Sosh and - er - and sensible;
And holds that Labor aims
And Socialistic claims
Are visionary and - um - reprehensible.
We are ready to resist
The - ah - rabid Socialist,
Who's as great an anarchist as any Russian, sir!
And the Labor party's laws
Are tyrannical! (Applause.)
Which - er - brings me to the subject of discussion, sir.
Regarding telephones:
The Labor Party (Groans)
Seems to think it can oppress us with impunity.
But I hold, sir, it is plain
That the benefits we gain
Should be paid for by - that is - the whole community!
As an Anti-Socialist,
Mister Chairman, I insist
(If that gentleman who interjected recently
Will endeavour to restrain
His impatience, I'll explain.
I'd remind him we conduct these meetings decently).
Mister Chairman, to resume.
When I look around this room
On the members of this - er - great society,
And consider we've to pay
For these benefits, I say
It's - er - bordering on - um - on impropriety!
The - er - people, sir, should bear
(What's that? ... I protest, sir! Chair!
This - er - person who seems bent upon confusing me
With his most unseemly din
I don't know how he got in
Cannot shake my argument, sir, by abusing me.)
And I answer him, sir, Bosh!
Bosh! How dare he call me Sosh!
Our position is invinc - er - ah - invincible!
His remarks, sir, I resent,
And I hold my argument
Is a basic principle of - um - of principle!
As my worthy friend, Bruce Smith
(Bosh sir! ... Petriana myth! ...
Six hitters! ... Marriage tie! ... er - Confiscation, sir!
Um - er - break up fam'ly ties! ...
Lies, sir! Socialistic lies!
Alarming capital and immigration, sir!)
Now - (Eh! ... Order! Sir, I claim
Your protection! What's his name?
Is this man a member? Sir, show your authority!
An imposter, I've no doubt.
Ha, I thought so! Put him out!)
Now the motion ... Carried! by a large majority.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reprehensible
Each night I lie awake
Completely alone
A voice is calling, and I tremble
For its not my own
My own
I cant ignore it
Although I try
The intrusive whisper fascinates me
Heres why
Heres why
The secrets gather round as the voice recites
The secret history of my immortal soul
Indestructable
Indefensible
Reprehensible
10,000 years of unerasable acts
And permanent facts
The record of my
Unspeakable crimes
In previous lives
In previous times
Indelibly stains
The pages of history
Indestructible
Indefensable
Reprehensible
Night after night a voice recites my misdeeds
And puts me to sleep
But tells me that i
Wont remember a thing
When morning comes at last
I rub my eyes
Remember nothing and thinking
Only of my plans
My plans
The world is spinning round and Im on the top
And nothing in the world can ever make me stop
Indestructible
Indefensible
Reprehensible
10,000 years of unerasable acts
And permanent facts
And only I know
Whos responsible
Indefensible
Reprehensible
Me
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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State Of The Nation
You can walk, or you can run
You dont have to be someone
I went on a summer cruise
Upon an ocean born to lose
My brother said that he was dead
I saw his face and shook my head
Can you see where we cant be
Were losing our blood in the sea
cause its the state of the nation
Thats holding our salvation
Yes, its the state of the nation
Thats holding our salvation
Oh, the state of the nation
Is causing deprivation
Oh, the state of the nation
Is causing deprivation
From my home I traveled far
I drove in my stolen car
When it broke down, I kissed the ground
cause I dont kiss when youre around
I dont find that I have been
The portrait of an only son
If thats the case, then who could tell
Where my story had begun?
Cause its the state of the nation
Thats holding our salvation
Yes, its the state of the nation
Thats holding our salvation
Yes, the state of the nation
Thats causing deprivation
Oh, the state of the nation
Thats causing deprivation
Even now, Im all alone
Behind a wall thats made of stone
I think about where we have been
And all the sights that could be seen
I know it all could be worthwhile
If only I could force a smile
Now we turn our backs to the sea
The shame of a nation well never be
Cause its the state of the nation
Thats holding our salvation
Yes, its the state of the nation
Thats holding our salvation
Oh, the state of the nation
Is causing deprivation
Yes, the state of the nation
Is causing deprivation
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Metal Beast
Down the road we talk and laugh,
In the metal beast that gives us a ride,
Who knows if it is willing,
And who would really care.
Who ever thought we could ruin,
the life of that which gives it back,
the metal beast are everywhere,
Large ones that seem to carry,
Fifty or more on their tracks.
Or the small ones no more than five or six,
they can carry,
These metal beast,
we never question,
these metal beast that spew out death,
in a smokey and floating form.
Our metal beast,
that we learn to love,
Our metal beast are everywhere,
polished and primed,
or rusty and old,
Our metal beast that we hold onto,
that we love,
Or take for granted.
Our metal beast,
spew out death to our home.
poem by Rebecca Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
More than a piece of cake!
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
More than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
That beatened up beast to beat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Road Song of the Bandar-Log
Here we go in a flung festoon,
Half-way up to the jealous moon!
Don't you envy our pranceful bands?
Don't you wish you had extra hands?
Would n't you like if your tails were -- so --
Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow?
Now you're angry, but -- never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete, in a minute or two --
Something noble and grand and good,
Won by merely wishing we could.
Now we're going to -- never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
All the talk we ever have heard
Uttered by bat or beast or bird --
Hide or fin or scale or feather --
Jabber it quickly and all together!
Excellent! Wonderful! Once again!
Now we are talking just like men.
Let 's pretend we are... never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
This is the way of the Monkey-kind.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conflict In Their Mind
In the middle I have heard of a wild beast having a great feast
From where I stand I can see his tail bruising the southern land
With his flaws he struggled to get grip of the northern walls
From where I am free I can see his head dangling across the red sea
Some say this beast always stretch his back legs far east
Tho he sometimes grip the west but the way he back of I am impress
This beast is somewhere in our mind as we are so blind to slay our owne kind
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is no greater fallacy than the belief that aims and purposes are one thing, while methods and tactics are another. This conception is a potent menace to social regeneration. All human experience teaches that methods and means cannot be separated from the ultimate aim. The means employed become, through individual habit and social practice, part and parcel of the final purpose; they influence it, modify it, and presently the aims and means become identical.
quote by Emma Goldman
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The truer god
The blood drips down off the beast
That has taken over your dreams
Why does he not shield himself from the clear stated animal
You may look like a beast with your pointy ears and tong that holds
Shape for two
Your feet claw at the unearthed land that does not resemble earth
You have a noise and mouth that reminds me of similar ones, but I cannot clearly
See it
Look up for the earth has reversed itself wrongly it should not be higher than view
How will you ever come back, if you never open your eyes back to it
Can the animal shaped man really have taken control of it or are you hiding
Life out from view.
poem by Sarah Saucson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rhythm Nation
with music by our side
to break the color lines
let's work together
to improve our way of life
join voices in protest
to social injustice
ageneration full of courage
come forth with me
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right(sing it)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
this is the test
no struggle no progress
lend a hand to help
your brother do his best
thinds are getting worse
we have to make them better
it's time to give a damn
let's work together...come on...
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation(people)
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right(sing it)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing it)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
say it people
say it to me
say it to me if you want a better way of life
say it people
say it to me
say it to me if you want a better way of life
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
(rhythm nation) yeah
song performed by by Janet Jackson from Rhythm Nation 1814
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So What Can a Monkey Do
It's just insidious...
Too ridiculous and hideous to me.
To find some are nonbelieving,
In the obviousness of reality.
And the questions asked,
Persist...
Pertaining to the 'way' things happen as they do.
Making little sense when the evidence points back...
Into the face of the accuser.
You know the kind?
The one who creates the crime,
But not admit it.
It's just insidious...
Too ridiculous and hideous to me.
And too emotionally sacrificial I've become.
With too much topping of self serviced depreciation.
Aggrevated by the act of too much devotion shown!
This...
It's just insidious!
It's too ridiculous and hideous to me.
Even to make known...
What is felt and seen has been condoned!
So what can a monkey do?
'Only what a monkey can do!
Be a monkey! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom (in answer to A.G. Visser)
Lord, You have formed our nation,
out of various nations You have built the Afrikaner nation
and led them miraculously to here.
The command comes from You
to get a own freedom,
that urge resides in You
and then our people trekked north
with some up to the equator,
defying barbarian, beast and every other danger
and at the onslaught at Blood River You became involved,
even when the British tried to force us into a kingdom
we later got our freedom, but now:
we are trampled; some of our people are scattered worldwide
and the urge to be free comes out of Your hand, almighty Lord.
[Reference: Vry! (Free!) by A.G. Visser.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reflecting On Independence
We have freedom living every day, a liberty no man can take away,
Not the rights, a nation may give, in the land that one may now live,
It is a freedom they cannot herald, a freedom apart from this world,
The freedom Christians speak of, that comes from our Lord above.
Dispensed by The Lord and Creator, to all who come to The Savior,
A freedom in our Lord Jesus Christ, granted to us for all of this life,
Once we accept Christ in our heart, God’s Liberty shall never depart,
When in Christ, you become free; God’s Liberty carries into Eternity.
A nation’s laws we have now learned, by leaders can be overturned,
When by evil, they are driven; to repeal rights men were once given.
Under assault is our Godly Faith, we receive, strictly through Grace,
We see many rights slipping away, as moral laws continue to decay.
Rights established by any nation, lack a firm and Godly Foundation,
The laws built upon shifting sand, in coming days just will not stand,
As the nation faces amoral blight, as immorality then becomes right,
With righteousness all in the past, personal freedom just will not last.
Reflecting on Independence friend, will our Personal Freedoms end?
Here, where our fathers achieved, the liberty, we as citizens received,
It is times like this we are assured, of the Freedom in Christ our Lord,
That no nation can take from us, once in Christ we have put our trust.
(Copyright ©07/2009)
Ode To The
How blest, how firm the Statesman stands,
(Him no low intrigue shall move),
Circled by faithful kindred bands,
And propp'd by fond fraternal love.
When his speeches hobble vilely,
What! "Hear him" burst from brother Hiley,
When the faltering periods lag,
Hark to the cheers of brother Bragge.
When the faltering periods lag,
Or his yawning audience flag,
When his speeches hobble vilely,
Or the House receives him drily,
Cheer, O! cheer him brother Bragge!
Cheer, O! cheer him brother Hiley!
Each a gentleman at large,
Lodg'd and fed at public charge.
Paying (with a grace to charm ye)
This the fleet, and that the army.
Brother Bragge and brother Hiley,
Cheer him! when he speaks so vilely,
Cheer him! when his audience flag,
Brother Hiley, brother Bragge.
poem by George Canning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Brothers Dreams
Where have you dreams gone my brother,
Did you let them fly away,
Did the wind pick them up and carry them afar,
Were have you dreams gone my brother,
Like a forgotten word did they leave you mind,
Could they have slipped through your fingers like the sand of time,
Did a beast rise up and tare them from your heart,
Where have your dreams gone my brother,
Did they fade away like the morning mist,
Tell me this,
Or did you just forget them,
Where have you dreams gone my brother,
When you began your journey you held them strong,
And When your battle was halfway won, still you carried them along,
But now I see you old and gray,
Without your dreams,
They’ve gone astray.
poem by Sarah Lindley Farnsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Barfly
Barfly.
Outside a bar, Bella Vista, in the sleepy town of Barranquilla-
Colombia- a donkey wore a hat with holes for its ears, dozed.
Hot day, its serenity was endless. Around its closed eyes blue
flies crawled. I’m kind to animals, waved my hand in front of
its eyes to get rid of flies. The beast saw it differently, kicked.
In the street only the donkey, me and the cruel midday sun,
everyone else had sought refuge the dark interior of houses.
Looked at the bar’s dark, cool interior, since the beast didn’t
care for my sympathy I limped back in there and had a beer.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Sweet Caribbean
The famous people of Africa,
And the glorios people of America,
Came to the caribbean for its culture,
and merriment of Soca,
the fully-pledged nation,
worked hard to get the confirmation,
to be loving and caring to the entire population,
Although we have the merciless killings,
we have the most incredible and edible food,
the nation and sweet sweet caribbean can see and eat.
poem by Rajay Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Messiah Is Coming Back Again
Messiah is coming back again; please let me repeat the word again,
He came once as The Lamb of God to take away the sin of all men.
I boldly proclaim that He came although it's not politically correct,
For Israel is still waiting for Him to come and deliver God's Elect.
Christ told His Jewish Disciples that He had sheep of another pen,
This was Christ referring to the Believers made up of Gentile men.
To this day the tiny nation Israel remains God's only chosen nation,
But their falling from God's Grace brings to all men God's Salvation.
For He came unto His own but they received Him not as God's Anointed,
However a day to purge the land for David's sake has been appointed.
He was named Jesus, for He came to save His people from their sins,
But being far from God, there were many hearts Jesus could not win.
Many knew Jesus as Immanuel which Scripture says means God with us.
But although He was in their midst many were blind by power and lust.
But like Elijah we're reminded that not all bent their knee to Baal,
And the time is coming when the nation of Israel will again prevail.
For God promised that He wouldn't reject all the people of the land,
Soon they will see the one they pierced and see His side and hands.
On that day they'll be cleansed from all their sin and wickedness,
In a fountain for David's House and all of Jerusalem's inhabitants.
(Copyright © 07/2003)
America s Strength (series #2)
As a youngster I began to wonder “ how this great nation came to be”.
People from all over the world looking for a new life to escape tyranny.
This became AMERICAS history.
Then we had our civil war and we fought as state to state.
We all became UNITED and that made this nation great.
So we put the two together and the UNITED STATES was formed.
Little did we know- that this would be the “ norm”.
Look around you, and you will see
Every ethnic group, that’s how we came to be.
AMERICA is not just a country, but a land
Where the bell of freedom rings
And from every country, its people it will bring.
AMERICA is a dream- a vision, a quest- if you must
But in this great nation we put all our trust.
So give us your humble, your poor, your weak
If freedom is what they seek.
This is what made this nation, and gave dreams to all mankind
For we will fight for this country, our lives we’ll put on the line.
We will get stronger, and you will weaken and die
For you can not break our spirit, no matter how you try.
“ now many will say I’m a dreamer”
But that’s how this world came to be
Every small dream has become a reality.
We wanted to hide the pictures and videos
From our children of what you had done.
Because we had felt that they was much to young.
Now we’ve decided to teach and show them about
This cowardly act, and to give them knowledge
And show them all the facts.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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