Black-Haired Girls
The black-haired girls are graceful, like gazelles,
Their haughty stares would strike a ‘lao wai' blind,
As they cruise on through streets, where rubbish spills,
Ignoring all, the poverty, the slime.
In knee high boots and skirts that lift the thigh,
In leathers, black, and frills and pretty lace,
They swing their hips so slowly, to invite
The dreams of men, who marvel at each face.
The teeth so white and straight, the lips that curl
In condescending fashion at each gaze,
The one brow arched, as if to look on down
From some great height they fashion from each frown.
If Gods and Godesses have ever walked
This petty planet's poor and pitted earth,
Those Gods have gone, the Godesses remain,
To haunt old men, who worship at their shrine.
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Related quotes
Anammelech
They have a mixture oif the worship of Yahweh and that of the Pagan Gods!
For they really love their Pagan Gods and Godesses;
And their respective pagan customs are leading them into the paths of the dark bush,
But, who can tell them the truth?
For i am Anammelech in the land of my muse in search of the truth always;
So, tell me if you've found the right way that leads to the Path of the Truth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Gods
Gods of the white man,
Gods of the black man,
Gods of the almond shade
all of these Gods
have done one thing,
made the people afraid.
Gods of the red man,
Gods of the brown man
Gods of the yellow hue,
all of these Gods
have done the same
divided them into
Separate people
who've been led to believe
their God is the holy one
to save their souls
and pardon them
and deliver them
from earthly sin.
How can there be
so many Gods?
Isn't there only one?
One for every single soul
born unto this earth.
He's every color that there is
since the world's begun.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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High Fashion
I know a sexy little girl
She's never in the low class world
This woman is all the way vogue
High Fashion is where her money goes
She dines at Le Dome up on the strip
Cheap liquor never touches her lips
Her brandy's imported every week
No problem, 7,000 easy
High Fashion is where her money goes
High Fashion - This girl is all the way vogue
She's never in the low class world
High Fashion - Stuck up little rich girl
High Fashion
High Fashion, yeah
I met her dancin' at Le Dome
I offered dinner at my home
She said no, all of her friends laughed
Funny how the laughin' stopped when I flashed all the cash I had
(I'm talkin') $1900 is 2 much cash 2 hold
One of my boys had 2 carry half, now honey U know that's bold
Wait a minute
She had the nerve 2 ask what kinda car I had
"Honey, I'm ridin' in back of a Rolls Royce limo custom-painted plaid!"
High Fashion is where my money goes
High Fashion - Honey, I'm all the way vogue
I'm never in the low class world
High Fashion - And I just love little rich girls
(High Fashion) High Fashion (High Fashion)
Hot Station - I took the child 2 my crib
Donation - Do U take or do U give?
She took one look at the swimmin' pool
I said "I'll donate" - We were 2 swimmin' fools
High Fashion is where our money goes
High Fashion - All the way vogue
We're never in the low class world
High Fashion - Don't be a little stuck up rich girl
All the way vogue {x2}
I'm all the way vogue
Yeah, yeah
(High Fashion) {repeats in BG}
Dinner at Le Dome
Little girl
Money man
I'm the money man
Money man {x2}
High Fashion {x4}
Ohhhhh
(High Fashion) {x2
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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T-birds
Circle high, circle low.
Jammers fly, t-birds.
You show, you show, whiplash go.
You show, you show, t-birds. mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
On the dot in the slot, tie the knot.
On the dot timed kisses.
In the slot on the dot, tie the knot.
In the slot, no misses.
Mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun conquerer.
Two thousand years ago... a great race... warriors... lived in... they had many gods... mayans... gods... mazatlan... (if you can fill in these blanks please email [email protected])
Black sun worshipper.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up plumed serpent.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up, my t-bird.
Serpent curl.
T-bird, rule the world.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun born again.
Oh I love my t-bird, t-bird.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Jealous Gods
Oh life is wonderful,' she said,
'And all my world is bright;
Can Paradise show fairer skies,
Or more effulgent light?'
(Speak lower, lower, mortal heart,
The jealous gods may hear.)
She turned for answer; but his gaze
Cut past her like a lance,
And shone like flame on one who came
With radiant glance for glance.
(You spoke too loud, O mortal heart,
The jealous gods were near.)
They walked through green and sunlit ways;
And yet the earth seemed black,
For there were three, where two should be;
So runs the world, alack.
(The listening gods, the jealous gods,
They want no Edens here.)
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Write And Speak
Write and speak of the things which are very proper for a sound doctrine,
For outside are many hidden gods and godesses ruling the world! !
But, this muse of peace around us today came from the muse of love;
So, learn diligently from it and be very wise to move on with your positive mind always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Haik - Unceased days
pretty woman
wrinkled woman show girls picture
of her uncreased days
inspired by
Phenomenal Woman
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Maya Angelou
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Crazy For Fashion
Birds do beautifully display
Their feathers in the skies
Lions proudly show off
Their brittle hairs in the jungles
Peacock flaunts her feathers
Around the courtyards
Snails are comfortable in their shells
Man, God's image is confused in himself.
Man is ashamed of Godly nature
Crazy outfits are designed
To display nookies and crannies
Skins are bleached to change colours
Tattoos are engraved to flaunt around
Hair colours are changed
Like the garment of masquerade
Man, never satisfy with nature
Man's insatiable craze
For fashion runs like oceans
He has a face-lift,
Do liposuction and implants,
Have a tummy tuck
And even brigthens his teeth
All in the name of fashion
Its just crazy fashion
Why this rat race?
Why tampering with natural beauty?
Is God no more perfect?
Are these really fashion?
No, they are destrucion
In the name of fashion
Its just fashion crazy
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Black+White=My Life
Black-
The color of my soul
White-
The color of my spirit
Together Black and White combined
It all equals my life
The 2 only colors
That are not really colors at all
The story of my life
I am alone
I die slowly and painfully
Not a care in the world
Where I would end up
If only I would survive...
Black-
The color of my Heart
White-
The color of my Hopes and Dreams
Together again Black and White reunite as one
As you can tell
The 2 only colors of my life are Black and White
As if you care
You rather see me suffer in vain
You keep heaeing me say I am alone
Well now you know its true
poem by Makayla Straight
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To the Old Gods
O YE, who rode the gales of Sicily,
Sandalled with flame,
Spread on the pirate winds; o ye who broke
No wind-flower as ye came--
Though Pelion shivered when the thunder spoke
The gods' decree!--
Into the twilight of the ancient days
Have not ye flown!--
Ye, whom the happy Greeks inspired hand
Struck from the frenzied stone:
That, ye withdrawn, your images should stand
To take their praise.
Smeared into clay, and frozen into stone!
Ye, that do now
Face eyes unworshipful in plunder's halls,
Mutilate, with marred brow:
Broken and maimed: couched along alien walls
In lands unknown.
O gracious ones! No more, no more, shall ye
Spread wing above
Perilous Ossa! No more wring delight
From pool and golden grove:
No more beneath your fire-shod feet in flight
Shall hiss the sea.
The thuunder shall not groan between your breasts,
Nor lightning writhe
Barbed in your clutch; no worshippers shall trace
Your steps in grove and hithe.
No more 'thwart skies your golden stallions race
On mighty quests.
And yet what fane, what column, rises now
To save or shine:
What temple travails at such quickening feet,
What wing-tip seeds a shrine:
What god hath bid us build in wold or street,
Such breast and brow?
What have our wisdom and our worship done
To raise such gods?
To quench the ruined eyes of Parthenon
What newer beauty nods,
And shames the wreckless brow that stares upon
The amazèd sun?
Held up in arms of columns white as flowers,
You faced the sea,
With your great breasts for glory passioning,--
For mortal's victory;
Not 'neath occaisonal thin spires that spring
From streets of ours,
Hooding the dying god, whom men revile,--
Who bears their sin.
No great winds thunder over sun-splashed thrones,
Our dusty shrines within,
Where troubled feet make groan the weary stones,
In hollow isle.
I, only I, kneel at forsaken shrine:
The lamp I bring
Scarce throws a shade beneath your eyelids there:
Forlorn the song I sing
To ears august, and these wrung berries bear
A bitter wine.
Yet still I kneel, poor praise to offer up
To each great name!
And I shall feel upon my brow descend
A sudden edge of flame.
Your wings shall smear these words, even as ye bend
To this poor cup.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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Israphel
A dreamer midst the stars doth dwell,
Known to the gods as Israphel.
His heart-strings are a lute;
And when, the magic notes outpouring,
He parts his lips, the gods, adoring,
Listen in transport mute,
Subdued and softened by the spell
Of the dreamer, Israphel!
And mortals, when they hear him, start,
And, full of wonder, call him—Art,
And, fain his gift to gain,
Essay to imitate the fashion
Of his rare song, and breathe its passion,—
But, ah, they strive in vain;
For his song is more than art,
Whose lute-strings are his heart!
And others, unto whom he wings
The sweetest melodies he sings,
In worship, name him—Love;
Yet longing the pure strain to capture,
When at the very height of rapture,
A sadness oft approve,
And fancy, strangely, that he wrings
The music from their own heart-strings!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Phenomenal Woman
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
poem by Maya Angelou
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Chevet
She captured my love and i seized her in my arms and kissed her,
But Chevet her neighbour was there to witness this act;
And now we are like the figures of the gods and the godesses around this town.
Better fromes of love and better sales of her muse,
And of her love so captured anew!
But her beautiful picture is still hanging around on the walls of love.
This love is like the frame of her picutre in my room!
And of her love that captures my mind;
But i can't leave this portrait of her sweet love beside me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Metal Invaders
Fool moon standing in the streets
I know the time is near
Incarnate power roaring from the sky
Unrelenting forces blasting through the air
Roaring thunder lift your hands and pray
Running through the empty streets theyre looking for the fight
Swords gleam in the light of moon the gods prepare to strike
Chorus metal invaders, ready to strike
A warning from hell, be careful tonight
Dark night overwhelming bright light
See the demons fly
Cant trust your senses fear youll have to die
Super mighty shadows casting amplitudes to ears
Sounds youve never heard that take you high
Time has come for them to rise, invasion is their doom
Riding high on iron horses in the light of moon
Chorus metal invaders, the gods on their ride
Sworn to bring metal, mayhem tonight
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Lap Of The Gods
Ah ah ah ah ah
Leave it in the lap of the gods
Ah ah ah
I live my life for you
Think all my thoughts with you and only you
Anything you ask I do for you
I touch your lips with mine
But in the end I leave it to the lords
Leave it in the lap of the gods
What more can I do?
Leave it in the lap of the gods
I leave it to you
Leave it in the lap of the gods
Leave it in the lap of the gods
I want you to
Leave it in the lap of the gods
Leave it in the lap of the gods
Leave it in the lap of the gods
Lap of the gods
song performed by by Queen from Sheer Heart Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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PHENOMENAL WOMAN: dr ANGELOU(I LOVE HER!)
PHENOMENAL WOMAN
by Maya Angelou Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me. I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me. Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It's in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.
poem by Lee Fernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Olympus.
The high noises,
The great voices,
They of the sky
In the clouds wrangle,
Jar it and jangle
Till Death shall die.
In the bright houses
With their false spouses
The high ones rave —
Gods in a passion,
As those in their fashion
Who go to the grave.
Out of the portal
Where never a mortal
Has climbed or been,
Their insane thunder
Comes to us under
The holy demesne.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Gods And Monsters
Yearning, keep them burning, kepp them earning
Someones got to pay for all these televisions
There's children singing, and church bells ringing,
and people skipping merrily to work and dreaming
and dreaming
For maybe, you'll wind up crazy, and when you're drinking
You may start thinking that you're stupid and you're lazy
Well just keep earning, keep on yearning,
and you will believe there are no gods and monsters
gods and monsters
So free of contradictions, no dereliction,
There are no gods and monsters
So useless and so pretty and so good
So pretty and so good, gods and monsters
Now have I got you watching, for all the gods and monsters
A sitting, reclining in the back row of your mind
I think thats what you'll find
Yes there are gods and monsters
Yes there are gods and monsters
Yes there are gods and monsters
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Gather.....
i go to the place
where dead people pray...
i walk the stark streets,
struck dumb by poverty's tongue.
i follow voices into alleys
clothed in broken glass.
i lick the scars off buildings
where rats gather to dance.
ghosts never chant, 'i am black, i am white'...
they moan and simmer with calloused hands.
there are no heroes, no martys, no priests...
only the small boy in the doorstep,
with a broken kite.
who are we, who are we?
the sweat stained pelvis thrusts.
while armies gather to feed the crows.
and gods shatter into pulse and need,
orphans walk the womb lost without sight.
the heroin needle, the nuclear strike,
at the crossroads of hell,
just past the end of time.
we gather neath oil rigs
and lift unholy hands...
eating the flesh of our children,
in the name of god!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Hooves, White Snow
black hooves, white snow
candlewax dripping,
water from a rusted spicket.
brass doorknobs,
forbidden rooms,
where spider webs cover
forgotten books.
and the chant of the ancients
rolls like thunder!
strike the bell, mountains quiver!
somewhere the gods of old
walk deserted streets,
while the shepherd kings
raise their flutes and play.
and the old mad monk
walks into the hills,
never to be seen,
or heard again.
black hooves, white snow
the taste of blood,
the smell of need.
bows drawn tight,
the archers wait
for the sun to rise
in a blackened sky.
the wheel turns
in the desert sand
(nothing ever stays the same)
water wears down stone
until it finds it's way.
while trees fall in
a desolate forest,
and the hawk flies alone
down through the gorge.
black hooves, white snow
till we find our way!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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