Empire
Imperial tyrants from whence you come
to the land of American soil,
You pierce the hearts of all of us
that labor hard and toil.
You imitate the Roman legions
and your empire takes on form.
And as it builds in crescendo
there comes an approaching storm.
Enough I say, be gone with you
and all your evil ways.
The dawn of history lay to rest
and lighten up our days.
The rank and file of military strength
may march to the end of the earth.
One by one the conquerors invade
and what is it all worth?
Rome fell and so will we
and all that came before
will fill the air with the stench of blood
as death knocks at our door.
And what shall we cry to our God on high,
what can we possibly say?
We lament what we've done. We cry.
Didn't enough of us pray?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
Love Potion
Chorus
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
End chorus
I'll wait for you by the fireside
Even if it takes me all night
All night would certainly be worth
Getting rid of this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll sit with you, alone there
Sharing stories and trading laughs
Those laughs would all be worth
This pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
Later on we'll sit there, old as dust
And you'll wish you could have willed me away
But I'll hold you close as we die
These days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
At the end of life I'll wish to bring
Those old days back from the dead
Relive them over and over again
When I brewed you that love potion
And it took me five days
Five days were certainly worth
All that pain you blasted me with
But you didn't know it
And now you know it
It's too late, you fell in love
You fell in love potion
Like the one I brewed for you
Prayer For The Land
In this nation we can not afford, not to lift prayers to The Lord,
When all men lift up holy hands, to The Creator of all the lands.
To lift up prayers and supplication, to The God of our salvation.
As together men seek God’s face, to fill our land with His Grace.
Not only is He Sovereign Creator; as for many He is our Savior,
Who saved us out of the night, and filled us with His Holy Light.
And in Him we can put our trust, for His Spirit will empower us,
Helping to change wrong to right, as we share His saving Light.
But the change needs to start, not in the land, but in the heart,
In the heart of the humble man, who prays to God for our land.
Then with others lift to the Lord, humble prayers shore to shore.
Prayers that reach God’s Throne, about a land many call home.
This nation seen by many to be, a haven of freedom and liberty,
Is now being attacked from within, from a plague of evil and sin.
It’s changed so much from when; it was founded by Godly men.
Now many men face a daily plight, from all the evils of the night,
When the days become like night, filling men’s hearts with fright.
All the wicked evils of the night, have forced many into this plight,
Devastated by man’s dark iniquity; who oppose a God of eternity.
Only The Lord can shed His Light, upon their darkened evil blight,
In these increasing darker days, so these men change their ways.
For Only God can change within, hardened hearts racked by sin.
We need to lift our hands up high, to The One who rules the sky,
To pray that God returns sanity, back to our land from sea to sea.
God could again bless our land, if we only choose to understand,
We must repent and turn to Him, as we turn away from all our sin,
This land we’ve come to know, can and will not continue to grow,
If a moral climate is not restored, through the Mercy of The Lord.
We must return to God’s decrees, or our nation will cease to be,
And like The Roman Empire friend, we too will have a sorry end.
There’s Always a Dawn
There were spears
There were swords
Made for hunting
Not war
Yet with it, from the blood of the innocent will create a new dawn
But war came
Great battles and fights
Many dead
Few still alive
To face the never ending dawn
A new world made
By the people who were left
Conquerors and Defeated
United in one land
A new dawn created with the help of man
The one land changed
More wars began
Famine and disease
Grew a part of that
But the dawn still remained
It was after these wars that history began
Written by the victors about
The defeated
The damned
The dawn was never mentioned- forgotten
These people
The defeated left the land
In search for a new home
Away from the wars
Searching forever for a new dawn
Perhaps they were wise
To leave with such haste
For the empire they once knew
Began to break
The dawn now remembered- the people prayed
The empire broke
The great kingdom now gone
In its place a new world just like the dawn
Still life in the world went on and on
Yet the dawn was still worshiped- never forgotten
The years past
More wars began
Countries discovered
New weapons for man
The promise man made- left to die
Centuries turned
Discoveries made
Technology found
Diseases dead
Still on and on the dawn survives
But for every technology there’s always a weapon
For every discovery there’s always a second
With one disease dead more still arrive
And with every new day a new world is created
Though the dawn still remained
So the world keeps turning
In the dark and light
For every bad thing
There’s always a light
In the dawn
In war it is Peace
In death it is Life
In disease it is the Cures
In the world it is Hope
Disguised as the dawn
Hope keeps us going
Through the bad it is strength
To do what is right, To help the world
In the light it shines, shines for the future, a brighter day
A new dawn
The earth might be in darkness
With a shadow on its edge
Waiting to consume
Till the universe is dead
The dawn still remains
But still the world keeps turning
Like the never ending dawn
Time is forever
And the universe survives
Because of the dawn
It might seem the end
Of the world that we know
But at the end of a day
There’s always mans hope
There’s always a dawn
poem by Carrie Halliday
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Son Of The Soil
Black, strong tatooed by the sun.
He toils and never tires.
He is the son of the soil.
Forget all these fake wana be's! You see today
wanting to be everything they see on tv.
he is the Son of the soil, raised up in the language of the ancetrals.
Taught to hunter and respect the traditions.
Raised up in the secret sacred things of the land.
Spilt his blood in the soil at the riverside at the age of 13.
He knew where his destiny lay at the age of 16.
Had his first encounter at 18.
She was a true daughter of the soil breed well by the women of the land.
Son of the soil taught by the elders the ways of women.
Son of the soil, taught by nature the way to survive.
Son of the soil, taught to endure by the woman he shares his purity with.
Son of the soil,
arise and toil for your destiny calls.
Toil to protect the weak,
to safeguard the rites,
to up root all menace and vallians from the west.
Son of the soil its your time to stand and be heard.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
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Rome Revisited
To God, all evil is an abomination, what does He think of our nation,
A country led by darkened men, whose ways The Lord will condemn,
Is this today for us a wake-up call, in a nation which is about to fall?
Under the Judgment of God's Hand, in an ever increasing dark land.
Rome, remember had fallen from within, due to the wages of her sin,
Not only one city, but the empire, led away through darkened desire,
Amoral desire from the political top, once started they couldn't stop,
Rome spiraling down to her end, to the point of judgment my friend.
Judgment could be at our door, as our darkness abounds, for sure,
Stirred by political leaders in place, taking for granted God's Grace,
Many leading this nation far away, from The Lord's Righteous ways,
As the amoral, liberal ways askew, the righteous ways that we knew.
Righteousness that was the foundation, of this God blessed nation,
While men shake their fists at God, only inviting His Righteous Rod,
A rod that will bring judgment to, that blessed nation we once knew,
As we move to an immoral abyss, dismissing God's Righteousness.
All across this country we trod, leaders are turning against our God,
Denying God, who brought salvation, to this blessed gentile nation,
Turning our light to darkness friend, as we see the approaching end,
The same judgment that Rome saw, when they ignored God over all.
(Copyright ©06/2012)
Memorial Day
"Dulce et decorum est"
The bugle echoes shrill and sweet,
But not of war it sings to-day.
The road is rhythmic with the feet
Of men-at-arms who come to pray.
The roses blossom white and red
On tombs where weary soldiers lie;
Flags wave above the honored dead
And martial music cleaves the sky.
Above their wreath-strewn graves we kneel,
They kept the faith and fought the fight.
Through flying lead and crimson steel
They plunged for Freedom and the Right.
May we, their grateful children, learn
Their strength, who lie beneath this sod,
Who went through fire and death to earn
At last the accolade of God.
In shining rank on rank arrayed
They march, the legions of the Lord;
He is their Captain unafraid,
The Prince of Peace . . . Who brought a sword.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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I Am a Roman Soldier
I am a Roman soldier.
I choke on the dust and peer ahead.
There are only more soldiers and more marching.
The sun gleams from shields slung over the backs of my comrades
and our swords clank at our sides.
Only three weeks into the Germania campaign
and the Senate still favors the Brutii.
Still, General Augustus favors blood,
and so we march.
I am a Roman soldier and I fight for Rome and for glory.
My javelins tangle and I stop to adjust them.
Their one-use tips were digging in my back.
Feet continue to march past and I smell sweat and dirt.
There are murmurs of conversation
About the last town we sacked.
About the screams and the blood,
and how the Armenians would rather fight
then submit to Roman power.
I am a Roman soldier.
I grew up in Croton, a large town South of Rome.
My mother weaved cloth for the governor,
the white and green of the Brutii.
They claim they first settled Rome,
Their ancestor is Brutus, survivor of Troy
relation of the great Romulus.
My father was a proud Brutii
and his eyes sparkled at the name.
“Brutus, ” he said, “started this family with honor
and with honor died.”
Then two weeks passed,
and he died at Carthage.
I am a Roman soldier and I fight for Rome.
I pretend to inspect my shield as legions pass.
A Centurion calls for water and boasts
“It’s not to drink but to wipe off barbarian blood! ”
We Romans are tough and mighty
and will rule the world with Strength and Honor
There’s a problem with a leather strap
and I listen to the pounding feet.
I saw blood splattered on many.
Dried and brown.
I am a Roman soldier.
My mother’s voice rings in my head,
“Come back with your shield, or upon it.”
I wonder if my blood will be dried
and brown on someone’s feet some day.
I shake off the thought and raise my head.
The wind stirs my hair.
With it comes the rumble of cavalry.
The General will meet with us tonight.
Tomorrow we lay siege.
He had said we will do great things,
and that neither cities nor hordes could stop us.
We will live in glory and there will be songs about us
sung through the ages.
I am a Roman soldier and I am sick of fighting.
The army surges ahead and I watch it.
Shimmering and moving with a rhythm.
Thousands of blades of grass tossed by the wind.
The cavalry comes neatly alongside;
loud voices ring out in greeting.
I sigh and heft my shield,
Don my helmet and check my sword.
I fight because I have to,
I fight because the world would not have it otherwise,
The world could not stand to have one less of me,
I am a Roman soldier.
poem by Josiah Wedgewood
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The Present Age
Say not the age is hard and cold-
I think it brave and grand;
When men of diverse sects and creeds
Are clasping hand in hand.
The Parsee from his sacred fires
Beside the Christian kneels;
And clearer light to Islam's eyes
The word of Christ reveals.
The Brahmin from his distant home
Brings thoughts of ancient lore;
The Bhuddist breaking bonds of caste
Divides mankind no more.
The meek-eyed sons of far Cathay
Are welcome round the board;
Not greed, nor malice drives away
These children of our Lord.
And Judah from whose trusted hands
Came oracles divine;
Now sits with those around whose hearts
The light of God doth shine.
Japan unbars her long sealed gates
From islands far away;
Her sons are lifting up their eyes
To greet the coming day.
The Indian child from forests wild
Has learned to read and pray;
The tomahawk and scalping knife
From him have passed away.
From centuries of servile toil
The Negro finds release,
And builds the fanes of prayer and praise
Unto the God of Peace.
England and Russia face to face
With Central Asia meet;
And on the far Pacific coast,
Chinese and natives greet.
Crusaders once with sword and shield
The Holy Land to save;
From Moslem hands did strive to clutch
The dear Redeemer's grave.
A battle greater, grander far
Is for the present age;
A crusade for the rights of man
To brighten history's page.
Where labor faints and bows her head,
And want consorts with crime;
Or men grown faithless sadly say
That evil is the time.
There is the field, the vantage ground
For every earnest heart;
To side with justice, truth and right
And act a noble part.
To save from ignorance and vice
The poorest, humblest child;
To make our age the fairest one
On which the sun has smiled;
To plant the roots of coming years
In mercy, love and truth;
And bid our weary, saddened earth
Again renew her youth.
Oh! earnest hearts! toil on in hope,
'Till darkness shrinks from light;
To fill the earth with peace and joy,
Let youth and age unite:
To stay the floods of sin and shame
That sweep from shore to shore;
And furl the banners stained with blood,
'Till war shall be no more.
Blame not the age, nor think it full
Of evil and unrest;
But say of every other age,
'This one shall be the best.'
The age to brighten every path
By sin and sorrow trod;
For loving hearts to usher in
The commonwealth of God.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Leading You Astray
Bad people,
Power cuts!
Aspire,
Inspire,
Milk and honey,
Sugar and tea,
Survival of the fittest! !
Strength,
Change, challenge!
And, it took place in her room twice.
The 4th Empire was the Roman Empire!
The 4th Beast was the Roman Empire! !
Drones, thrones, stone;
Like the great sword with eyes all over it,
but, your uncontrolled lust is leading you astray.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The land that shall be (dedicated to herman anker and m. anker on the
Ocaasion of their silver-wedding, September 15, 1888)
Land that shall be
Thither, when thwarted our longings, we sail,-
Sighs to the clouds, that we breathe when we fail,
Form a mirage of rich valley and mead
Over our need,-
Visions revealing the future until
Faith shall fulfil,-
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
All of our labor to sow seeds of gain
Grows in the ages when
our
names shall wane,
Gathered with others', 't is stored in the true
Will to renew.
This then shall carry our labor within,
Safely within
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
Tears that are shed over evil's foul blight,
Blood-sweat in conflict to win higher right,
Hallow the will unto victory's cost.
Let us be lost,
Rooting out wrong, that the good we may sow,
Soon overgrow
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
Looming in beauty of colors and song,
Golden in sunlight that glad makes and strong,
Present in children's eyes, looking to-day
Down when you pray.
Winning good victories gives us the power
To own a brief hour
The land that shall be.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Caesar
Pop/schermerhorn
People of america
I bring you a great army
To preserve peace
In our empire
Throw them to the lions
Darling, let us go to the banouet hall...
There will be a great feast tonight!
Who are these christians?
What is this strange religion?
I ve heard it said they turn the other cheek
Ha ha ha ha
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Thumbs down
10 pieces of gold for every man
Hail caesar hail caesar
Grapes from sicily
Silks from asia minor
All the tea in china
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Who are these christians?
Turn the other cheek...
Ha ha ha ha ha
Two thumbs down
The christians are restless
Why not let them worship their god?
No one believes in the old gods
How tiresome...attending the rituals
Paying lip service to the portents
Burning incense at their shrine
No one believes in the old gods
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Hahahahahaha
The roman empire the glory of rome
Hail all hail
Caesar...caesar...beware beware the ides of march
Who is this man?
Caesar...he is but a soothsayer...he is old
And his brain is addled... pay him no mind!
Throw him to the lions! ha ha ha ha ha ha
Hail caesar! emperor of rome hail caesar!
Caesar...caesar...beware the ides of march
Eh? ! who is this man?
Caesar...he is but an old soothsayer...addled in his brain
Pay him no mind
Throw him to the lions! ha ha ha ha
Throw him to the lions!
No one believes in the old gods...
The empire is tired...caesar will rest now.
We depart for my chambers
Come darling
Yes caesar
Caesar will rest now
Hail rome hail caesar hail
Put him in the fiery pit
Ha ha ha ha!
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rimini
Marching Song of a Roman Legion of the Later Empire
When I left Rome for Lalage's sake,
By the Legions' Road to Rimini,
She vowed her heart was mine to take
With me and my shield to Rimini--
(Till the Eagles flew from Rimini--)
And I've tramped Britain, and I've tramped Gaul
And the Pontic shore where the snow-flakes fall
As white as the neck of Lalage--
(As cold as the heart of Lalage!)
And I've lost Britain, and I've lost Gaul,
And I've lost Rome and, worst of all,
I've lost Lalage!
When you go by the Via Aurelia
As thousands have traveled before
Remember the Luck of the Soldier
Who never saw Rome any more!
Oh, dear was the sweetheart that kissed him,
And dear was the mother that bore;
But his shield was picked up in the heather,
And he never saw Rome any more!
And he left Rome, etc.
When you go by the Via Aurelia
That runs from the City to Gaul,
Remember the Luck of the Soldier
Who rose to be master of all!
He carried the sword and the buckler,
He mounted his guard on the Wall,
Till the Legions elected him Caesar,
And he rose to be master of all!
And he left Rome, etc.
It's twenty-five marches to Narbo,
It's forty-five more up the Rhone,
And the end may be death in the heather
Or life on an Emperor's throne.
But whether the Eagles obey us,
Or we go to the Ravens--alone,
I'd sooner be Lalage's lover
Than sit on an Emperor's throne!
We've all left Rome for Lalage's sake, etc.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Roman Empire Conquest Founded
Ancient power civilizations;
were located around key shores
control Mediterranean Sea?
Major influences on ancient cultures;
secure sea food; routes for trade fought
colonisation wars left legacy seeds?
Late comer Emperor Augustus;
Roman Empire conquest founded
renamed his Mediterranean Sea?
'Mare Nostrum' 'Our Sea' Romans;
ruled with military triremes iron legions
defeated Greek city states Phoenicians.
Roman Mediterranean rendered our lake is
an important symbolic link in conquest chains
spreading inroad iron willed fist by land seas.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When In Rome
Well, you must be from the city
'Cause you sure ain't from round here
There ain't no smoke free section
We don't sell no import beer.
You been throwin' round that attitude
Since you walked in that door
I don't know where you come from
But you ain't there anymore
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But, when your down home
You better do like us.
You been lookin' down your nose
At our water tower town
Ain't no one getting rich
But, there's enough to go around.
If ya don't like tracy's cookin'
Well, ya best still leave a tip
She's back there in that kitchen
With a baby on her hip.
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But, when your down home
You better do like us.
You put your best foot forward
When you go to meet a man
Look him in the eye
And put a good grip on his hand.
Don't cuss around the ladies
Tell us how to raise our kids
We like doing business
Like our daddys, daddys did.
When you drive off in your beamer
If ya don't do 35
Don't give no lip to Beuford
Or he might just dot your eye.
And when your at the courthouse
Before Ole judge McCall
You best not say a word
About them comandments on his wall.
Naw!
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But when your down home
You better do like us.
Yeah, Yeah Yeah
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But when your down home
You better do like us.
Mmmm Hmmmm
Better do like us boy
Don't you come in here talking all that trash
Ya just might get your nose smashed.
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Roman Gravemounds
By Rome's dim relics there walks a man,
Eyes bent; and he carries a basket and spade;
I guess what impels him to scrape and scan;
Yea, his dreams of that Empire long decayed.
'Vast was Rome,' he must muse, 'in the worlds regard,
Vast it looms there still, Vast it ever will be;'
And he stoops as to dig and unmine some shard
Left by those who are held in such memory.
But no; in his basket, see, he has brought
A little white furred thing, stiff of limb,
Whose life never won from the world a thought;
It is this, and not Rome, that is moving him.
And to make it a grave he has come to the spot,
And he delves in the ancient dead's long home;
Their fames, their achievements, the man knows not;
The furred thing is all to him - nothing Rome!
'Here say you that Caesar's warriors lie? -
But my little white cat was my only friend!
Could she but live, might the record die
Of Caesar, his legions, his aims, his end!'
Well, Rome's long rule here is oft and again
A theme for the sages of history,
And the small furred life was worth no one's pen;
Yet its mourner's mood has a charm for me.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Two Famous Women Of History (Fun Poem 112)
Eve was the first woman
who tempted Adam with an apple,
when he went to take a bite
the worm in it hypnotised him
telling him to take her
and be damned,
and we all were.
Cleopatra was another woman
and under her spell, Mark Anthony fell.
The result of that union the Roman Empire crumbled
and also the flame was lit for Nero
to fiddle while Rome burned
and Julius before him didn’t fare too well neither.
28 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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Sonnet: True Success Is God-destined
Some think they can achieve all things by sheer
Hard-work, intelligence and on their own;
Some think they can do things while they drink beer,
Through slaves and cell-phones, working in a town!
Some think that back-door entry is the best!
They use their clout and influence and bribe;
Some achieve things by turning into pest,
And some others are sheer will-powered tribes.
Some pray to God but never labor hard;
Some labor hard but never pray to God;
The one who mixes both gets his reward;
The lucky/ plucky man cannot be Lord!
True success comes when man does as God says,
And such a man gets surely better days!
poem by John Celes
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A Rallying Song
Oh glorious race of mighty men,
The homeland calls to you;
Our fathers wrought with faith divine,
So let us march in line. (Refrain)
If foe we meet across the way,
Our courage hold on high,
For Victory is near at hand,
So march ye with the band.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc
Old Africa is calling you,
So wave the banner high;
No foe shall win the glorious day,
Shout ye, and march and pray.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.
Our God is leading us away,
And land and seas divide,
For hosts are here in royal form,
March on and fear no storm.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.
New Africa beholds the sight,
The world will tremble then,
Good men of might will worship God
And bless the heaving sod.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.
Tell the people everywhere you go,
'The day is here again,'
The Ethiopian's God appears
To deal with all affairs.
poem by Marcus Mosiah Garvey
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Posed To Throw Away Democracy?
we are now entering
another power flux in history
beware American Empire
is posed to throw away democracy?
to advance capitalist elitism
and an absolute ruthless
control of earth's last resources
by a fraction of the world's
super dictator populations
plague mega rich virus
festers in all human races
ethnic imaginative disguises
Roman empire needed legions
armies forts to control its empire
Genghis Khan exterminated
all people in wilderness areas
so forts were not needed
his tony express riders
traveled alone at speed
unmolested America uses
stealth and special forces
in a similar way so forts
obsolete standing armies
are not stealth war needed
goal is protecting oil pipelines
and required strategic resources
spy satellites in space monitor
foreign high tech controlled areas
drones aircraft control skies
special forces when needed
surgically take out opposition
armies are used to establish
puppet governments leaders
an old theme a new shift focus
in establishment of puppets
governments expansion checks
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Crossroads
When first I did appear upon this native soil
All up and down this country at labor I did toil
I slumbered in the moonlight and I rose with the sun
I rambled through the canyons where the cold rivers run
When first I did come down where the land meets the sea
The people said who are you and what would your name be
I said I have no home and I am no mans son
twas inland I was born and from inland that I come
In the good land I was young and I was strong
No one dared to call me son
Happy just to see my days work done
See my days work done
So I swung an axe as a timberjack
And I worked the Quebec mines
And on the golden prairie I rode the big combines
I sailed the maritime waters of many a seaport town
Built the highways and the byways to the western salmon grounds
Ive gazed upon the good times Ive seen the bad times too
Felt many a cold and bitter wind and many a mornin dew
Ive watched the country growin like a fair and mighty thing
And on the still of a summer night Ive heard the mountains ring
In the good land I was young and I was strong
No one dared to call me son
Happy just to see my days work done
See my days work done
But now the seeds are planted and the gates are open wide
The old ways are forgotten theres no place left to hide
And the legacy Im leavin you is not very hard to find
Youll see it all around you at this crossroads of time
In the sweet soil its a-growin at the crossroads of time
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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