Pardoned Out
I’m pardoned out. Again the stars
Shine on me with their myriad eyes.
So long I’ve peered ‘twixt iron bars,
I’m awed by this expanse of skies.
The world is wider than I thought,
And yet ‘tis not so wide, I know,
But into its remotest spot
My tale of shame can go.
I’m pardoned out. Old Father Time
Who seemed to halt in horror, when
I strained my manhood by a crime,
With steady step moves on again,
And through the black appalling night,
That walled me in a gloom accurst,
The wonder of the morning light
In sudden glory burst.
I’m pardoned out. I shall be knows
No more by number, but by name.
And yet each whispering wind has blown
Abroad the story of my shame.
I dread to see men shrink away
With startled looks of scorn or fear,
When in life’s crowded marts some day,
That name falls on their ear.
I’m pardoned out, ah God! to roam
Like some whipped dog among my kind.
I have no friends, I have no home,
Save these bleak walls I leave behind.
How can I face the world of men,
My comrades in the days of yore?
Oh! hide me in my cell again,
And, warden lock the door.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Tajmahal, a love dome
Beautiful creation of the Lord on earth
should be remembered for time to come,
what an eyes like shining diamonds,
rose may not have shine as her face,
God might have thought in spare time,
Perfect match and suitable kind,
Kind always kept her live in mind,
Was so happy with lovely find,
What would be fate when I am no more?
Who will sing and who will adore,
I must think and ways explore,
Ship should not sink before reaching shore,
I may be killed, buried underground or even poisoned,
Empire may be snatched and not even pardoned,
May be confined within walls and area cordoned,
So more happiness or safety idea altogether abandoned,
'Love Dom' for queen in unique style,
Thought emperor but in worry while,
even when empire is razed or lost,
should be the centre of attraction most,
Oh, Mumtazmahal, I will try my best,
marvelous creation and unique test,
World to wonder and still ponder,
What a message from ardent lover
Neither you nor the memory will fade,
Place for lovers where love not forbade,
you will be remembered for long and decades,
Nothing will be lost even attempted to invade
'Taj'(crown) will adore your head,
Your names in history will always lead
love songs not less than hymns are read,
Peace and calm prevail before night dead,
Though it may be called as dome
Remain it as your permanent home,
It won’t be less than huge palace,
People may visit and offer solace,
All true lovers will offer tribute,
though world at large can’t contribute,
Exclaim with words and love distribute,
All glory and feat to kings attribute,
I may be killed, buried underground or even poisoned,
Empire may be snatched and not even pardoned,
May be confined within walls and area cordoned,
So more happiness or safety idea altogether abandoned,
Mumtajmahal is the name of queen
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Time To Choose
You can choose Christ today, no matter what others may say,
As your Savior and your Lord, while God, by many is ignored;
As a soul, lost and depraved, choose The Lord and be saved,
Every knee will one day bow, but, you can have salvation now.
Just accept all God has done, and you will then know His Son,
Listen not to others who scoff, as you look to Calvary’s Cross,
Where Christ Jesus died for all, to redeem us from Adam’s fall,
Which tainted every soul within, because of Adam’s original sin.
Every man shall be accountable, yes, even the unbelieving fool,
Liable to The Lord and Creator, Who’s also my God and Savior;
The sin that depraved all men, my Lord and God shall condemn,
And only when men trust in Him, are they pardoned, for their sin.
Be not only pardoned, but receive, eternal life when you believe,
Since all our sin Christ died for, to open for men Heaven’s Door,
The Door which you can enter in, if you’re washed of all your sin,
Being cleansed in the Blood, that flowed from the Lamb of God.
He’s paid for us the full price, by becoming for God a Sacrifice,
“It is finished”, our Lord said, then He was raised from the dead,
By God to offer men Eternal Life, in His Only Son, Jesus Christ,
The One and Only spotless Lamb, who is indeed the Great I Am.
(Copyright ©04/2010)
In the end, they pardoned me and packed me off to a home for the shell-shocked. Shortly before the end of the war, I was discharged a second time, once again with the observation that I was subject to recall at any time.
quote by George Grosz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hidden Shame
Im sorry to say that you dont know me
Im sad in ways you never understood
Each time I try to tell the ugly truth
You always let it pass you by
You said I d never tell you a lie
Just because I could
Did you really think I was a bad man?
You always said that that should be my middle name
But you dont know the half of it
You dont know how that name fits
You dont know my hidden shame
Hidden shame, shame, shame
That I cant get free
From the blame and the torture
And the misery
Must it be my secret for eternity?
Till you know my hidden shame you really dont know me
Well, theres a different kind of prison
And it dont even have to look much like a cell
Its already on your mind
Boy, we can see it in your eyes
So, heres the bars and walls as well
Well, you know Im never coming home, babe
You said youd stand by me until I cleared my name
Sure its easy to be strong
When you know the charge is wrong
But the days and weeks get long
When youve got a hidden shame
Chorus
I had a friend when I was just a boy
We were like brothers, we would run and hide
And we went walking on a high hillside
And I really dont how it happened
He turned to me and had this strange look in his eye
And not a single word was spoken
I must have pushed him, but I dont remember why
And all at once, he lay there broken
And I walked down without him and I didnt even sigh
Chorus
They say you always hurt the one you love
And Im not saying if I did or if I didnt
But like my shame, that kind of love is always hidden
They locked me up here for the ideas in my head
They never got me for the thing I really did
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
quote by Saint Francis of Assisi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Point Of Honour
``Tell me again; I did not hear: It was wailing so sadly. Nay,
Hush! little one, for mother wants to know what they have to say.
There! At my breast be good and still! What quiets you calms me too.
They say that the source is poisoned; still, it seems pure enough for you!
``I shall bring them to shame, aye one and all, my Father who loves me so,
Dear Mother, a little severe at times, but with story as white as snow,
And sister Effie, so trim and quick, so fair and betrothed so long,
Who will wait for her lover for years and years, but would die at the thought of wrong.
``O don't! For I know what my brother Ralph, if he knew it, would think and say.
He would drive me across the lonely moor, and would curse me all the way;
Would call on the cold wet winds to whip, and the sunshine to pass me by,
And vow that the ditch were too good a grave for a thing as foul as I.
``And then there is grand-dad, worn and white, who can scarcely speak or see,
But sits in the sun in his wicker chair, with the Bible upon his knee.
To him 'twould but sound like a buzzing hive if they talked to him of my fall:
Yet I almost think that I dread his face, turned heavenward, more than all.
``We have never been either rich or poor, but a proud, stiff yeoman stock.
And to think that I am the first to bring sin's scab on a cleanly flock!
The pet lamb, too, as they call me still, the dearest of all their dears!
Hush, little one! But you well may wail, suckled not upon milk, but tears.
``He never will marry me now, that's sure. Who takes a wife with a stain?
How we used to sit in the bluebell wood, and roam through the primrose lane!
And I was thinking of some one else, while the nightingale trilled above.
He alone, I think, will forgive me though, such a wonderful thing is Love.
``Do you think I do not foresee it all?-a mother and not a wife,
A babe but without a father still, and the lack and the shame for life,
The nudge and the sidelong sneer, in church, at market, year out, year in.
But what would you have me do to escape the wages of my sin?
``Give up the child? To whom? To what? To honest and kindly folk
Who have never a chit of their own and long for a wee thing to kiss and stroke,
Who will call it their own, will rear as such, will teach it to lisp and pray:
He will find the money for that and more. There is nothing he will not pay.
``Pay? Well, go on: I am listening hard, for the little one's now at rest.
Just look how it sucks and smiles in sleep on the pillow of mother's breast.
Though I never thought-does Love ever think?-that such was the end of all,
It is wicked, but still for a joy like this I would almost repeat my fall.
``Yes, I understand. He has done his best. O, you make it perfectly clear.
He is doing it all for me, no doubt; he has nothing to face or fear.
But 'tis strange that fathers with gold may pay for their guilt, and can then forget,
And that lasting shame and a broken heart are the share of the mother's debt.
``I have sometimes thought that Nature has against woman some lasting pique,
For she makes us weak where we should be strong, and strong where we might be weak,
Most good when a little badness pays, and bad when 'tis safe being good.
To be always good, and nothing but good, 's the one hope for womanhood.
``And I then should be good, or seem to be, which is pretty well much the same,
Should hold up my head with the straightest then, and be shocked at a sister's shame.
Be called by the Vicar his model maid, be kissed by the Vicar's wife,
And may-be marry an honest man, and be happy and loved for life.
``The hollyhocks now up the garden walk are flowering strong and straight,
The bees are out in the mignonette, and the mossrose lingers late;
The orchard reddens, the acorn cups are thick 'neath the pollard oak,
And up from the old red chimney-stack curls the first blue Autumn smoke.
The kine from the lowland are trailing home, and file betwixt shed and rick,
In the wide brown bowls on the dairy shelf the cream lies smooth and thick;
I can hear the geese in the farmyard pond, I can see the neat new thatch.
Now what if I went there brave and bold, and took courage to lift the latch?
``They never would know, they would cluster round, they would drag me in through the door,
Would fondle and cuddle, and hug and kiss, and pull me down to the floor;
And who should kiss first, and who kiss last, would be all they would think of then;
And at night we should all of us kneel and pray, and I too should say, ``Amen!''
``They never would know; but I should know, and, when they were all asleep,
I should lie awake through the long dark night, and wonder, and sob, and weep,
Through the dear sweet bitter detested past would my wavering fancy roam,
And at dawn I should learn to smile again, for at least I should be at home.
``And where would It be? I must not ask-for I'm to be strong and wise,-
If well or ailing, alive or dead, what colour its hair and eyes,
Never knit a sock for its little feet, to the end never know its name.
There's a shamelessness yet more shameful far than the worst abyss of shame!
``Well, you see I am going. And where? Why, home! Yes, straight unto Father's door,
With this tell-tale thing in my warm weak arms, right over the windy moor.
I shall tremble and stammer and halt, no doubt, and look like a thing accurst,
And so double my fault by my helplessness; and then I shall know the worst.
``If my Mother scolds, I will bow my head; if my sister shrinks, I will weep;
If my brother smites, I will let him smite, for a sin so dark and deep.
But what if my Father rises up, and drives from the door,-what then?
Well, then I will go to the Father of all Who pardoned Magdalen.''
poem by Alfred Austin
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Talent, like beauty, to be pardoned, must be obscure and unostentatious.
quote by Marguerite Gardiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Divinity
While we saw the divinity to be pleased with,
The king of demands was set against the dread
And the fear of a motherhood of evil,
So much praise was then absent.
We pardoned the people, and then the tyrant
Of displeasure, of deceit, of lies and idolatry.
The real price for disobedience hung for men,
And women and children stung from wasps,
Feeling the houses of depravity, and their luxury
After so much suffering was lifted.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Man Giving Birth in the Dark
The man giving birth in the dark
has died
& come back
to life again,
is stretching out his arms
in the dark
as if to embrace
favorite ghosts.
His heart stops
& starts.
Once more
he has been pardoned
for nothing.
It is my father
making the darkness
into daughters.
poem by Erica Jong
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A sin concealed is half pardoned (meaning when care is taken to conceal the scandal).
In many ways when Jerry Ford pardoned Nixon, in a certain way, he did speak for the country.
quote by Morley Safer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shame On You
Somebody tryin to take my soul
Nobody gotta hear my rock n roll
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
No leader, steady as a ghost
Tooth sweeter, powdering her nose
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
A-smith, old hank pank
Pulling down your knickers
Ah, who you gonna spank
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Joe perry, oh, mr style
Some kind of killer bee
Buzz a while
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Bogus honey, square dance close
Grab your partner, bring it home n dosey, dosey
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you baby
Seemin jazzy bein shipped in
Wilds of the stanley
Try to given in
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you baby
Seven or eleven
Go to roll the dice
Am I in heaven
Or am I in miami vice
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you baby
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parole
Par excellence!
The worst criminal in the world was pardoned
and he comes again into this uppish new world?
Half of his life he has spent
in the Government's boarding house.
Still in his forties but almost forgotten
how to approach a girl properly.
The hypocritical handsome politicians all over the world
search his whereabouts and offer him lot of new profitable contracts.
This illegitimate & ill-mannered person idles again at toll gates
with his new identity.
Dedication to the Norwegian peace brokers in Sri Lanka
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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What we talked about will have to remain a secret between him and me. I spoke to him as a brother whom I have pardoned and who has my complete trust.
quote by Pope John Paul II
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parable Of Faith
Now, in twilight, on the palace steps
the king asks forgiveness of his lady.
He is not
duplicitous; he has tried to be
true to the moment; is there another way of being
true to the self?
The lady
hides her face, somewhat
assisted by the shadows. She weeps
for her past; when one has a secret life,
one's tears are never explained.
Yet gladly would the king bear
the grief of his lady: his
is the generous heart,
in pain as in joy.
Do you know
what forgiveness mean? it mean
the world has sinned, the world
must be pardoned --
poem by Louise Gluck
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The Same Old Sun
Eric woolfson - lead vocal
Tell me what to do
Now the light in my life is gone from me
Is it always the same
Is the night never ending
Tell me what to do
All the hopes and the dreams went wrong for me
Theres a smile on my face
But Im only pretending
Taking my life
One day at a time
Cause I cant think what else to do
Taking some time
To make up my mind
When theres no one to ask but you
The same old sun would shine in the morning
The same bright eyes would welcome me home
And the moon would rise way over my head
And get through the night alone
And the same old sun will shine in the morning
The same bright stars will welcome me home
And the clouds will rise way over my head
Ill get through the night on my own
Tell me what to do
Now theres nobody watching over me
If I seem to be calm
Well its all an illusion
Tell me what to do
When the fear of the night comes over me
Theres a smile on my face
Just to hide the confusion
Taking my life
One day at a time
Cause I cant think what else to do
Taking some time
To make up my mind
When theres no one to ask but you
The same old sun would shine in the morning
The same bright eyes would welcome me home
And the moon would rise way over my head
And get through the night alone
And the same old sun will shine in the morning
The same bright stars will welcome me home
And the clouds will rise way over my head
Ill get through the night on my own
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shine as gold
Dreams are shattered and scattered
When wrong arena is entered
Same hands may run after you and blood hungry
As they have lost the patience and became angry
His one word was law
Whole desert kingdom echoed it to allow
Millions spread the message of savior
He was considered as genuine runner
How many prayed for his long life
Life had been difficult to walk on edge of knife
This man had brought all happiness
Faces shined, joy expressed and traced
Power corrupts absolutely
Erodes position and become known latterly
When everything has gone out of hand
Foes and well wishers have already turned against from friends
O ruler, you were not same
As an apostle or savior you came
We all prayed for all your longer stay
But alas! You were killing us and driving away
What made you to change?
Why such transformation came with age?
Your glory was speaking loud on golden pages
Why could not you hold it firmly and manage?
You did enough for our welfare
Yet we were forced to look at and stare
Many of our brethrens disappeared in streets
We have no kith and keen now to greet
You spread reign of terror
It nothing short of horror
Our faces frightened us in mirror
You were proving like Fuhrer (Hitler)
Your final act can’t be pardoned
They are in worst possible terms can be condemned
Now you are no more in this world
We may build new nation which may regain glory and shine as gold
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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