Ballade
Bodies of comrade soldiers gleaming white
Within the mill-pool where you float and dive
And lounge around part-clothed or naked quite;
Beautiful shining forms of men alive,
O living lutes stringed with the senses five
For Love's sweet fingers; seeing Fate afar,
My very soul with Death for you must strive;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
But O you piteous corpses yellow-black,
Rotting unburied in the sunbeam's light,
With teeth laid bare by yellow Hps curled back
Most hideously; whose tortured souls took
flight
Leaving your limbs, all mangled by the fight,
In attitudes of horror fouler far
Than dreams which haunt a devil's brain at
night;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
Mothers and maids who loved you, and the wives
Bereft of your sweet presences; yea, all
Who knew you beautiful; and those small lives
Made of that knowledge; O, and you who call
For life (but vainly now) from that dark hall
Where wait the Unborn, and the loves which are
In future generations to befall;
Because of you I loathe the name of War,
l'envoi
Prince Jesu, hanging stark upon a tree
Crucified as the malefactors are
That man and man henceforth should brothers be;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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Related quotes
Loath and Fear
If I would rely on phrenology,
Or science, or mythology,
I'd burn down this damned city
And disembark in a conclusion
Of the ugly veracity:
I loathe everything!
I fear everything!
I loathe that I am writing about loathing
And I fear that I might lose every one
Though I barely have anyone,
So I loathe even more on this fear.
I loathe that I write about myself all the time, and
I fear that I might not be writing at all
I loathe that I would narrate a story
In the surreal slopes of enigma, and
I fear, afterwards, that no one will pry
To understand or even console.
I loathe that my mouth cannot mouth
What my hands opted to write, and
I fear that my hands aren't equipped
To write what I cannot mouth.
I loathe even more that I build walls
For people to beat down and divulge
The forlorn boy inside, and yet
I fear to be found.
And I loathe to the point of breaking
That no one ever cared to pry
And that makes me shudder in fear, and
I fear this kind of loathing
And loathe this kind of fear.
I loathe that I cannot gain readers, and
I fear that I may never have
I loathe that readers appreciates the writing
But not the congealed brook
Between the lines of it, and
I fear that they might not even
Appreciate the spilled blood
In every line of it.
I loathe, I fear,
That apart from writing
I am never good at anything
Except maybe from fearing and loathing.
I loathe that I blame the past
For making me loathe a lot, and
For making me fear a lot
For making me loathe sports, and
For making me fear trying
And all the brusquely recreations
And the shame of failing.
I loathe, I fear,
That I was turned
To be a loathing misanthrope
From a fearing diffident
Or perhaps not,
Perhaps, I am both.
I loathe, I fear,
The mad man that I am
Smoking the emaciation out
For I loathe and fear the society
And their chauvinistic beliefs.
I fear that I am ninety pounds flat,
I loathe that I am not doing anything,
And I loathe and fear my loathing and fearing
Because I fear that all I have left
Is my loathing to strengthen myself.
I loathe my poor drinking limit
And I loathe the carousals
As much as I fear encompassing the line
And fearing the toll of carousals
For I never get inebriated
In loathe and fear.
I loathe the carousing table
For they are full of shallow people
Except for one person, perhaps
And I loathe and I fear,
That I may not be him.
I loathe that I am poor
Because I am jobless
And so are my parents.
I loathe, I fear,
That when I finish college
And finally get a job
That I cannot think for myself
Because my shoulders are donned
With so much unsolicited weights;
I loathe that I loathe it
Because it makes me a loathing glutton
Self-centered and loathsome, and
I fear all this loathing
For the very same reasons.
I loathe that I do not have friends
And that I cannot have friends
And that I loathe my friends, and
I fear that I can loathe my friends
Or not having thereof
For I fear to realize
That I do not even know what I want
Or that no one knows what I want.
I loathe that I do not have the facilities
And sometimes the interest
And there is nothing much fearful
Than loathing your fears
And fearing your loathing
From your fears.
I fear the approaching season
For I am bound to loathe even more
That the people are carousing
For not a single reason
Whilst I loathe, whilst I fear
Not having anything.
And despite me inscribing these
I loathe that I am doing these, and
I fear that I am not doing these right.
I loathe and fear that I am hopeful
Again and again after another failure
And I loathe, and I fear,
That even with a fractured cranium
I would still go for another try
And I loathe even more
And I fear even more
That I loathe, and that I fear,
But never give up
On loath and fear.
poem by Norman Santos
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The society is problematic.
I am for freedom of expression
But I loathe it when it comes
From the people who are under me.
I am for strict obedience,
That I expect from those under me
Though I loathe practicing it.
I expect loyalty that I loathe showing.
That is why the society is problematic.
28.12.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Til Death
Kill.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Were fighting death remove any wait.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Fighting death.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Were fighting death remove any wait.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Fighting death.
You play the loser.
Remain to live.
Live to the day.
Find the need, kill all.
Kill, raid, rot, and live to fight death.
We loathe thee to the death.
Loathe its lies.
Fight til the death.
Live, we die.
Kill for the need.
Death we love.
It lied.
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing Your Life
Sing your life
Any fool can think of words that rhyme
Many others do
Why dont you ?
Do you want to ?
Oh...
Sing your life
Walk right up to the microphone
And name
All the things you love
All the things that you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
Oh, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Others sang your life
But now is a chance to shine
And have the pleasure of
Saying what you mean
Have the pleasure of
Meaning what you sing
Oh, make no mistake my friend
All of this will end
So sing it now (sing your life)
All the things you love (sing your life)
All the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe (sing your life)
Oh, sing oh...
Oh, sing oh...
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Dont leave it all unsaid
Somewhere in the wasteland of your head, oh
Head, oh, head, oh, head, oh
And make no mistake, my friend
Your pointless life will end
But before you go
Can you look at the truth ?
You have a lovely singing voice
A lovely singing voice
And all of those
Who sing on-key
They stole the notion
From you and me
So, sing your life (sing your life)
Sing your life (sing your life)
Oh, sing your oh...
Oh, sing your
Sing your life
Sing your life
Sing your life
Oh, sing your oh...
(sing your life)
(sing your life)
Sing your life
(sing your life)
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Genesis
In the outer world that was before this earth,
That was before all shape or space was born,
Before the blind first hour of time had birth,
Before night knew the moonlight or the morn;
Yea, before any world had any light,
Or anything called God or man drew breath,
Slowly the strong sides of the heaving night
Moved, and brought forth the strength of life and death.
And the sad shapeless horror increate
That was all things and one thing, without fruit,
Limit, or law; where love was none, nor hate,
Where no leaf came to blossom from no root;
The very darkness that time knew not of,
Nor God laid hand on, nor was man found there,
Ceased, and was cloven in several shapes; above
Light, and night under, and fire, earth, water, and air.
Sunbeams and starbeams, and all coloured things,
All forms and all similitudes began;
And death, the shadow cast by life's wide wings,
And God, the shade cast by the soul of man.
Then between shadow and substance, night and light,
Then between birth and death, and deeds and days,
The illimitable embrace and the amorous fight
That of itself begets, bears, rears, and slays,
The immortal war of mortal things that is
Labour and life and growth and good and ill,
The mild antiphonies that melt and kiss,
The violent symphonies that meet and kill,
All nature of all things began to be.
But chiefliest in the spirit (beast or man,
Planet of heaven or blossom of earth or sea)
The divine contraries of life began.
For the great labour of growth, being many, is one;
One thing the white death and the ruddy birth;
The invisible air and the all-beholden sun,
And barren water and many-childed earth.
And these things are made manifest in men
From the beginning forth unto this day:
Time writes and life records them, and again
Death seals them lest the record pass away.
For if death were not, then should growth not be,
Change, nor the life of good nor evil things;
Nor were there night at all nor light to see,
Nor water of sweet nor water of bitter springs.
For in each man and each year that is born
Are sown the twin seeds of the strong twin powers;
The white seed of the fruitful helpful morn,
The black seed of the barren hurtful hours.
And he that of the black seed eateth fruit,
To him the savour as honey shall be sweet;
And he in whom the white seed hath struck root,
He shall have sorrow and trouble and tears for meat.
And him whose lips the sweet fruit hath made red
In the end men loathe and make his name a rod;
And him whose mouth on the unsweet fruit hath fed
In the end men follow and know for very God.
And of these twain, the black seed and the white,
All things come forth, endured of men and done;
And still the day is great with child of night,
And still the black night labours with the sun.
And each man and each year that lives on earth
Turns hither or thither, and hence or thence is fed;
And as a man before was from his birth,
So shall a man be after among the dead.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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To a Childless Woman
You think I cannot understand. Ah, but I do...
I have been wrung with anger and compassion for you.
I wonder if you’d loathe my pity, if you knew.
But you shall know. I’ve carried in my heart too long
This secret burden. Has not silence wrought your wrong—
Brought you to dumb and wintry middle-age, with grey
Unfruitful withering?—Ah, the pitiless things I say...
What do you ask your God for, at the end of day,
Kneeling beside your bed with bowed and hopeless head?
What mercy can He give you?—Dreams of the unborn
Children that haunt your soul like loving words unsaid—
Dreams, as a song half-heard through sleep in early morn?
I see you in the chapel, where you bend before
The enhaloed calm of everlasting Motherhood
That wounds your life; I see you humbled to adore
The painted miracle you’ve never understood.
Tender, and bitter-sweet, and shy, I’ve watched you holding
Another’s child. O childless woman, was it then
That, with an instant’s cry, your heart, made young again,
Was crucified for ever—those poor arms enfolding
The life, the consummation that had been denied you?
I too have longed for children. Ah, but you must not weep.
Something I have to whisper as I kneel beside you...
And you must pray for me before you fall asleep.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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I plant a lot of trees. I am a great believer in planting things for future generations. I loathe the now culture where you just live for today.
quote by Penelope Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tornado Of Souls
This morning I made the call
The one that ends it all
Hanging up,i wanted to cry
But dammit,this wells gone dry
Not for the money,not for the fame
Not for the power,just no more games
But now Im safe in the eye of the tornado
I cant replace the lies,that let a 1000 days go
No more living trapped inside
In her way Ill surely die
In the eye of the tornado,blow me away
Youll grow to loathe my name
Youll hate me just the same
You wont need your breath
And soon youll meet your death
Not from the years,not from the use
Not from the tears,just self abuse
Whos to say,whats for me to say...be...do
Cause a big nothing itll be for me
The land of opportunity
The golden chance for me
My future looks so bright
Now I think Ive seen the light
Cant say whats on my mind
Cant do what I really feel
In this bed I made for me
Is where I sleep,i really feel
I warn you of the fate
Proven true to late
Your tongue twist perverse
Come drink now of this curse
And now I fill your brain
I spin you round again
My poison fills your head
As I tuck you into bed
You feel my fingertips
You wont forget my lips
Youll feel my cold breath
Its the kiss of death
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scooter-My Sweet-Sweet Maine Coon
My sweet baby-to my little old man
So regal-so beautiful-so much mine
My gorgeous big Maine Coon kitty
Eightenn years is a very long time;
You were my best friend and as a child to me
So much a huge part of my heart
A huge chunk of my soul is now missing you know
Because you had to part;
I knew that God would be calling you home eventually
And last night you seemed to want to love me even more
So i returned it with more pets and loving caresses
And words of-i love you and God loves you just as before;
You seemed to understand me as you came 'round for another love
I didn't really understand all of your attention yesterday
Even though you are eighteen and not completely well
I hadn't expected you to be on your way the next day;
Not just yet anyway
As i prayed night and day its true
With Mothers Day fast approaching tomorrow
In a buriel i will say goodbye to you;
My little boy-beautiful old man
With thick fluffy fur so soft and so sweet
You were like my very own baby-my child
And loving and caring for you made my life complete;
Saying goodbye is such a heartbreaking experience
As my tears they are falling like an endless rain
I let you go but i want you to know
I will see you on Rainbow Bridge again;
So its okay to go my sweet-sweet little man
You surely did put up one heck of a fight
It would be selfish of me-not to let you leave
To be with your Creator and bathed in peace in His Light;
I love you now as i loved you then
1992 was a long time ago
You became my everything sweet baby
And i am left here loving you so;
Dedicated to my beautiful Cat: Scooter Onken
A beautiful Maine Coon who was with me for nearly 18 years.
July 1992-May9,2010
Rest in peace my beloved kitty
Mama Loves you
poem by Theodora Onken
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Between Fear And Courage
I visualize you all time,
my death,
A beautiful partner of my life
my redeemed ego!
Hate was not showing
its concrete face.
Love has lost the scent
and pshyche is leaving the path
of abstract truth.
Bruised, I loathe to go
in this unbridled ordeal.
Intuition or stupidity?
A spotless dialogue I dream
between fear and courage.
At end,
life can flow quietly
amidst the promises
clasping the peace, at its breast.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Coquette
Alone she sat with her accusing heart,
That, like a restless comrade frightened sleep,
And every thought that found her, left a dart
That hurt her so, she could not even weep.
Her heart that once had been a cup well filled
With love's red wine, save for some drops of gall
She knew was empty; though it had not spilled
Its sweets for one, but wasted them on all.
She stood upon the grave of her dead truth,
And saw her soul's bright armor red with rust,
And knew that all the riches of her youth
Were Dead Sea apples, crumbling into dust.
Love that had turned to bitter, biting scorn,
Hearthstones despoiled, and homes made desolate,
Made her cry out that she was ever born,
To loathe her beauty and to curse her fate
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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A Prayer For The Salvation Of A Shattered Soul
I proffer a prayer for the salvation of a shattered soul-
A once-beautiful personage, that selfish deceit stole:
'Heavenly Father, in Your Wisdom, and as part of Your Plan,
You have allowed the destruction, in a moment's span,
Of a once-beautiful soul, to that of a person possessed-
With the perpetration of her own world of lies-
A fallen Angel, so wholly obsessed
With malice and hate, that I now despise
The acts of the one I once loved, most ardently!
A dichotomy to be sure, and one I loathe most adamantly!
Provide her solace for her pain, and Atonement for her Sin;
Allow her Path to lead back to Truth, and for her to begin
To heal her soul, which has strayed from Your Ways!
I ask these things in the Name of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, in the Latter Days! '
-Maurice Harris,26 February 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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One Revolution
The clouds are paling and fading as destruction hovers,
Loathe them forwards, headlong like a wolf of heaven.
Take your harness to ratify the cultivation of sin,
Loathe him mysteriously, likely ideologies are in mind.
May clouds nightly fade into the right of the sight,
Bold freak occurrences happen as freak work of the deity.
Let the thunder accuse you of sin and the lightening may strike
Your cranium as it did when you skilled yourself with trade.
The strikes are on, revolutions bestride to double the rifles,
Busily doubling again like real fires, really hitting, even acceptable.
poem by Naveed Akram
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To The Girls Of The Unions
GIRLS, we love you, and love
Asks you to give again
That which draws it above,
Beautiful, without stain.
Give us weariless faith
In our Cause pure, passionate,
Dearer than life and death,
Dear as the love that's it!
Give to the man who turns
Traitrous hands or forlorn
Back from the plough that burns,
Give him pitiless scorn!
Let him know that no wife
Would bear him a fearless child
To hate and loathe the life
Of a leprous father defiled.
Girls, we love you, and love
Asks you to give again
That which draws it above,
Beautiful, without stain!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Feeling
There was a time
You knew –
Every feeling
Of mine, as I
Worded it to you.
Now you’ll
Never know
How I feel for you
Whether I love or
Loathe you.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....
quote by Longfellow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleep, those little slices of death, how I loathe them.
quote by Edgar Allan Poe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleep, those little slices of death; Oh how I loathe them.
quote by Edgar Allan Poe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For The New Year
FLUSHED with a crimson sunrise beauty,
The fair new year its promise gave;
Such dreams we had of love, of duty,
Of heights to scale, of foes to brave!
Oh, how hope's fire our future lighted--
How much to do, how much to know,
Yet on its brink we shrank affrighted
A year ago.
And now the year is done--its pleasure
So brief, so bright--its hours of pain;
Some moments' memories we treasure,
Some recollections loathe in vain.
Oh, for a brain where could not waken
Remembrances of purpose crossed,
Of trusts abandoned, aims forsaken,
And chances lost!
The changing seasons thrust upon us
Another year, fair-faced and new;
What evil have the old years done us
That this in its turn will not do?
This, too, will die, and leave us grieving
For all the ills its arms enfold--
For faiths betrayed, for friends deceiving,
And love grown cold.
We have been fooled. The hopes that fooled us--
We know them now--have been a lie;
The star that led, the light that ruled us--
We scorn them, and we pass them by.
Shut out hope's light; past is the season
When rose-red glow seemed good to see.
Look--by the cold white light of reason,
These things shall be:
A long, dim vista, blank and dreary--
The same hard failure, small success;
The same tired heart, the brain still weary
Of its intense self-consciousness;
The old despair, the old repining,
And, through the future's deepest night,
Down life's untrodden ways still shining,
The old hope's light!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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In hatred as in love, we grow like the thing we brood upon. What we loathe, we graft into our very soul.
quote by Mary Renault
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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