En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Lucifer in disguise?

He sits in his tower block
surrounded by workers
that admires him (or so he thinks.)

The being working day after day
in the white tower block
somewhere in Centurion

drags on a thick cigar
and blows blue clouds of smoke
that hang in the office

and plays a game
that tells
of his might and prosperity

and he expects that when he speaks
others must listen
attentive and in silence

as if he is almost equal
to the Lord God
and thinks that those working beneath him
swallows every word

and in the evening three or four
or maybe five
prostitutes are called by him
to get picked up by his limousine,

so he asked me
what is wrong with me
to be without a job

and expects me to explain
if it is liquor, women, being a thief,
or maybe murder.

Then I thought by myself why beings (like him)
not also are affirmed
and why that action

is still lacking with him
while the company’s goods
are very obviously disappearing into his pockets

and I keep myself
from sending him
to damnation,

or maybe to send an assassin,
bomb planting terrorist or two
as a answer to him,

but maybe after twelve in the evenings
he himself goes down to hell
to tell his subjects there
about his new misdeeds.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Know A Man

I know a man.
Who does everything for everyone and expects nothing return.
Burning away the night sky.
Working till the day he dies.
Their is so much love in his eyes.
Their is never enough time.

A task overwhelming.
Taking over where you left off.
A promise of the selfless.
Memories of your younger days.
As age wears you thin.
You are still not ready give in.
Forever holding on to the towel.
Never willing to let it go.

I know a man.
Who does everything for everyone and expects nothing return.
Burning away the night sky.
Working till the day he dies.
Their is so much love in his eyes.
Their is never enough time.

Mercy of the angels.
Hardiness of a father.
Pushing me to go even farther.
When I need help you are always more then willing.
A priceless soul your building.
Lessons learned, lessons taught.
Somethings just can't be bought.
You never blame me you know its not my fault.

I know a man.
Who does everything for everyone and expects nothing return.
Burning away the night sky.
Working till the day he dies.
Their is so much love in his eyes.
Their is never enough time.

Sickly you become as the clock keeps on ticking right on bye.
But nobody cares.
They still have the same expectations.
And your delivery's take a deviation.
People get pissed cause your not as fast.
You want to pull down your pants and say kiss my white a double s.
But you hold your tongue.
For you know when all is said and done.
They'll have to just deal with you.
They at this point just don't have a clue.

I know a man.
Who does everything for everyone and expects nothing return.
Burning away the night sky.
Working till the day he dies.
Their is so much love in his eyes.
Their is never enough time.

You now have reached the end.
You look into my eyes.
And say I hope I have taught you well my son.
Cause it won't be long.
The reaper coming to take me home.
I'm sorry but its now where I belong.
Don't cry now.
For you must keep moving on.
Listen here boy, this has become our song.

I know a man.
Who does everything for everyone and expects nothing return.
Burning away the night sky.
Working till the day he dies.
Their is so much love in his eyes.
And their is never enough time.
Their is never enough time.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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License To Kill

Man thinks 'cause he rules the earth he can do with it as he please
And if things don't change soon, he will.
'Cause man has invented his doom,
The first step was touching the moon.
Now, there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night gets still.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life
And they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill,
And they bury him with stars,
Sell his body like they do used cars.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there facin' the hill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused,
And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.
Until all he believes are his eyes
And his eyes just tell him lies.
But there's a woman on my block,
Sitting there in a cold chill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool
And when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled.
Oh, man wants it all his own way,
And he is opposed to fair play.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night grows still.
She say who will take away his license to kill?

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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License To Kill

Man thinks 'cause he rules the earth he can do with it as he please
And if things don't change soon, he will.
'Cause man has invented his doom,
The first step was touching the moon.
Now, there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night gets still.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life
And they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill,
And they bury him with stars,
Sell his body like they do used cars.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there facin' the hill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused,
And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.
Until all he believes are his eyes
And his eyes just tell him lies.
But there's a woman on my block,
Sitting there in a cold chill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool
And when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled.
Oh, man wants it all his own way,
And he is opposed to fair play.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night grows still.
She say who will take away his license to kill?

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Thinks I Still Care

(words & music by s. duffy - d. l. lipscomb)
Oh just because I asked a friend about her
Just because I spoke her name somewhere
Just because I rang her number by mistake today
You know she thinks i, I still care
And just because I haunt the same old places
With a memory I will linger everywhere
Just because Im not the happy guy I used to be
Lord, you know, she thinks I still care
Well, if shes happy thinking I still need her
Yeh, let that silly notion bring her cheer
Oh how could she ever be so foolish
Tell me where did she get, lord such an idea
Yeh, oh lord
Just because I asked a friend about her
And you know, just because I spoke her name somewhere
Just because, lord I saw her and went to pieces
Lord, you know, she thinks i, lord, still care
You know, she thinks i, I still care
Lord, she thinks I still care
Oh no she thinks I still care

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Folly in thinking

God knows what man thinks.
Man doesn’t know what God thinks.
Yet he expects Him
To carry out his wishes.
27.05.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Road Block

Yeah!, all right!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Lord, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
You try to block my road. hey!
Oh, better off to hand you
Everything i own, ha ha ha ha!
Strange to see you waiting for me,
You try to block my road, yeah yeah,
Try to block my road
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block daddy daddy daddy
Road block
Road block
Alright on the road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah! road block
Road block, alright, alright, alright!
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Whoa road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah!
Try to block my road, daddy daddy daddy
I said now every time i turn around
Why, try to block my road
Why did you try to hurt me try to block my road
I said all i ever wanted to do was try to block my road
N-now all i ever wanted to do was to love you try to block my road
Tell me, tell me, tell me try to block my road
Tell me, tell me, tell me now try to block my road
Waaah try to block my road
Waaah try to block my road
Try to block my road.
Ha ha!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Oh no, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
Hey hey, try to block my road,
Now now, try to block my road
Right, right, honey right now!

song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tower Of London

Let me take you to trafalgar square
Let me take you there
Every streets a fashion catwalk
Everyones debonair
Let me take you to piccadilly
Guess it leads somewhere
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Yours and mine - tower of london!
Hip london! hip london!
Let me take you to st.jamess square
Let me groove you there
Diplomats get target practice
In the open air
Psychobillies scream blue murder
Then they hit mayfair
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Precious time - tower of london!
Tower up! Ill meet you there
Ill be there - tower of london
New york! - dont make me laugh
Ive seen photographs - tower of london...

song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tower Name

The Lord’s name
Power name
A tower name
A strong name
And power-tower name

A strong tower, the name
A safe place, the name
Good in every situation, the name
Has unmatched power, the name
And a place of fortification, the name

When spiritually attacked, to the name run
When the past foibles clouds the mind, to the name run
When disappointed, to the name run
When failure cripples in, to the name run
And when tempted, to the name run

In the name, security
In the name, safety
In the name, peace
In the name, strong power
And in the name, a strong tower

A strong tower, strong refuge
A strong tower, stout defense
A strong tower, powerful protection
A strong tower, shield from the past
And a strong tower, enemy at bay to put

Whatever enemy offensive, call the name
Like Joseph, make a dash to the name
So portable, so wherever, the tower name
A refuge from doubt, selfishness, malice
And a shelter from slenderness, loneliness, envy and the like

So as the devil launches attack
A run to the tower name make
Call upon the power name
Stay in the power-tower
And watch him, sulking away

The Bible assures us: “The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe” (Prov.18: 10, KJV) .

poem by Obed Akuma
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Underneath The Gun

GO
I stare into space
And hope we're not alone
Am i searching for something
That's better than home
I been working so hard
Stress is tremendous
Pressure is endless
No one on this planet
Like me to be friends with
I been working so hard
I been working so hard
I'm underneath the sun
I'm underneath the gun
I'm losing my mind
And I know there's no remedy
Think I'm a failure
Who's livin' on memories
I been working so hard
Loneliness can't be
Cured from no medicine
Look to the stars
So they'll straighten my head again
I been working so hard
I been working so hard
I'm underneath the sun
I'm underneath the gun
Chorus
I'm a fool to think the blame away
Such a fool to take the blame and run away
Sometimes I beat myself up
I block my own way
I cloud all my thoughts
Please go away
Oh nevermind please
I'm checkin' out now
Won't come back, now
That my life doesn't exist
Yeah, you're right
How does it feel to be right?
Knowing that I was wrong
Nothing is right when you're wrong
Yeah, you're right
How does it feel to be right?
Knowing that I was wrong
Nothing is right when you're wrong
I'm underneath the sun
I'm underneath the gun
Chorus

song performed by by Limp Bizkit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Could It Be Love? Again?

if you challenge him
he will not answer you

acceptance for that challenge to be separate
lives on separate feelings
on separate beds and
can be as silent as feathers falling on a silk bed

then silently he turns into a line of red ants
taking slowly bits of leaves
from your hair
and some tiny grains in a secret place
of his heart
buried somewhere else that even his eyes that see
do not know
where is it exactly

where is it?
where is the new home of the
bleeding heart?
where can it rest finally when it is healed?

he does not tell you
he is building his dreams again
block by block into an
invisible tower reaching
another sky

orange and red
fusing into a
flaming hell

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ballade of the guard commander

II

At dusk the sun sets fiery red
behind the bushes
where in beauty it brings tranquillity to the bush-veldt.

There are guards that I inspect as commander
where they stand neatly in a platoon
and I look at them one after the other and then right through them

walk to the guardroom on top of the shooting tower
and in the camp in the operational aria
every thing is in order, the guards are capable.

Early in the evening another officer
comes and plays a game of chess
and we drink icy glasses of beer

but when it gets later their is silence and peace
as if it’s just another evening in a thousand
and for some time I am still attentive to my duties

until the shadows draw out long against the walls,
my non commissioned officer starts to yawn
and I lie down on my camping bed

telling him to take charge, while I get tired
and sleep closes my eyes,
when an explosion wakes me.

II

Somewhere in the camp another bomb explodes,
I grab my firearm instruct the shooting tower to start firing
and fear is in me – that the general is going to come.

Tracers cut tracks through the night
torches are fired into the sky
and outside it’s bright as day

and we fire into the bushes
while I cannot determine where the enemy is
and do not really know where the firefight had started.

In the camp another bomb explodes,
I see a trooper throwing a hand grenade
and I am totally astounded

and fear is in me – that the general is going to come,
what am I going to say about what is happening here,
what am I going to report about the men below him?

It’s clear that it’s no enemy attack
and on the watchtower I lift my rifle
and when it resounds it’s an own man, an acquaintance

that I shoot down before he throws some more hand grenades
and everybody thinks that an enemy bullet pierces him,
while they shoot into the bushes and fire at will.

III

The morning is grey
and rainy when the day breaks
while there’s fear in me

where I have got to give account
about wounded men in three tents
and the death of one I carry with me,

while soldiers are on patrol in the bushes
and with a knob in my throat,
I know that no enemy is there and feel tired.

When I notice a helicopter it is clear that the general is coming
and the Lord knows that I had to shoot an own man,
but what will I show him of the preparedness of the camp?

With narrowed eyes
we wait on the parade ground
and eight of my men are wounded.

The dust rises from the turning blades
while the helicopter lands
and the blades turn slower.

Out of the cloud of dust three figures walk
with the general looking inexorable,
while my ears sing from the noise of the aircraft.

poem by Gert Strydom
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I Believe.... (Chant One)

i believe...
that all men and women
are created equal...
equal in worth, dignity,
authority, and sacredness.
that wars, for any reason,
are wrong...
that they constitute murder.
that any government
that oppresses the many
for the good of the few,
should be overthrown!
in nonviolent protest,
and the way of the peacemakers.
that the earth,
and all living beings,
are sacred.
that prejudice is murder,
that the faces of god are many...
and that many,
from various traditions,
have felt the presence of god.
that the path we're called
to walk is individual.
that all true paths are based in compassion.
that the way to truth
begins within...
that we are called to listen,
to get involved, to care,
to offer a helping hand.
that we have an inherent need to love,
and to be loved.
and that whom we love
is our own choice!
that every day we evolve...
that death is a beginning...
that hunger is a sin
against the face of humanity.
that justice should be the same for all.
and that love has a body!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Under sights

A terrorist was on top of
the tall white water tower
of the military camp
poisoning the drinking water,
or so we thought.

I was on guard as a roaming picket
and the radio cracked
and told me
to get the enemy
on top of the water tower
under sights.

Just more than a section
of other troops on guard
gathered with me
and we spread out
and circled the tower
and hit cover where we could.

For a moment the dark figure
look ominous where he stood
next to the steel ladder
in the darkness of that moonless night.

We were ready to shoot
and were instructed to wait,
just before a spotlight
almost made him jump
over the edge.

There was no terrorist
that looked down at us,
just a military cook
trying to take his own life.

One troop said
“lets help him
and get it over with”
and I could almost
feel him pull the trigger
but like steel my voice said
“stand down”
and a military psychiatrist
got him calm
while troops climbed the tower
and lowered him on a rope
and I wonder to this day
what left that soldier
totally out of hope?

poem by Gert Strydom
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Unintelligent Design

An hour a day,
sometimes more,
I chipped away
with mallet and chisel
on a block of marble
I found in Carrara
and shipped to New York
on the deck of a trawler.

I offered the marble
to a famous sculptor
who told me he works
in granite only
so I grabbed his beret
and one of his smocks
and said I'd sculpt
the block myself
with whittling skills
picked up as a kid
from a drunken uncle
named Whittling Sid.

Several weeks later,
to my surprise,
I finished the bust
of a chimpanzee
simply by wielding
mallet and chisel
the way I wield
pencil and eraser
when hewing a poem.

Working with marble
or working with words,
a sculptor or poet
proves less is more
by chipping away
until something emerges
upright and walking
with a soul of its own.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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Admiration... For Those Who Work!

i have a deep admiration
for the common working people
of the world...
having lived among them,
worked and sweated with them,
i sing their struggle!

farmers toiling day and night,
nurses pulling double shifts.
factory workers doing time and again,
carpenters and masons building.
black and white and all colors,
working their lives by faith.
and immigrants, often called illegal,
(though no human beings are illegal!) ...
who come here and work for whatever wage,
trying to build a dream for their families.
let us not forget women,
too often underpaid and treated as less...
truckdrivers, and those who work the docks,
steel workers, cooks, and trash collectors...
all leave me in awe...

there are many who cant work,
these should always be taken care of.
but the ones that could work if they would work,
who can work, and wont...
well... i have a problem there!

i was taught to work as a child...
taught respect, dignity, and honesty...
and so i believe, and so i live...
in admiration for those who work!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Women of the working class, especially wage workers, should not have more than two children at most. The average working man can support no more and and the average working woman can take care of no more in decent fashion.

quote by Margaret Sanger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Working Girls

Working girls dont stand a chance
Typing pools are full deadly fish
Office romeos believe
Dictation is the statutory dish
Do they want you for your body
When you wanna use your mind
Every day its hustle hustle
But youre not the pushy kind
You worry and wonder when he calls you at five
Youve got to work late will you get out alive
You know what hes after its always the same
And soon youll be playing the cat and mouse game
Working girls they dress to kill
Posing for some glossy magazine
You know the flashman wants an exposure
But your momma says you gotta keep it clean
Still youre selling with your body
And the camera never lies
Every shot is more revealing
As your inhibitions die
He asks you to stay but you want to decline
He leers as he opens another bottle of wine
Dont want to offend him your ticket to fame
So you play by the rules
Its a cat and mouse game
Working girls are lost in dreams
Buried in a paperback romance
Why dont you wake up to reality
And watch those fingers at the office dance
When youre struggling with your figures
Is he studying your form?
Theres a silence in the boardroom
Its the calm before the storm
You wanna go home its been a long day
The streets are so crowded and you must get away
Youll be back tomorrow
Hell call out your name
Its business as usual
The cat and mouse game
Working girls
Working girls
Working girls

song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God’s Expectations

Does God ask you to blindly pray?
Does God want you to only toil?
Does God tell that you act senseless?
God expects you to be quite wise!

The one who only prays is wrong;
The one who only works, insane;
The one, who thinks he’s clever, isn’t;
The one who follows Christ-soul-wise!

So, work with diligence on earth;
Be sensible in things you do;
Pray fervently whenev’r you can,
And listen to what conscience says!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-30-2006

poem by John Celes
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Rope The Moon

(jess brown/jim denton)
I dont have a lot to show
For these years of hard work
If you look at what I own
Still shes always telling me
To hold on to my dreams
Even when my hope is gone
Some may say that dreamings just for fools
And there are times I thought that might be true
But she thinks I could rope the moon
In her eyes there is nothing I cant do
When I think its out of reach
Shes the reason I still try
She thinks I could rope the moon
When I look at the sky
But cant see through the clouds
She shows me the brightest stars
If I think of coming back
cause Im having my doubts
She tells me Ive come so far
Nothing in this world comes easily
But I cant lose with her right next to me
cause she thinks I could rope the moon
In her eyes there is nothing I cant do
When I think its out of reach
Shes the reason I still try
She thinks I could rope the moon
Oh she thinks I could rope the moon

song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oranges Testimonial

Mr. John Flansburgh: "Hey, this is John of They Might Be Giants. You might know me better as one of the guys from They Might Be Giants. You know, chemistry is like a relationship and that's why when you're looking for web design, go to the best: The Chopping Block. You might not know it, but over 50% of web designers are sleepy and cranky. The Chopping Block, through farm living and an active internship recruiting policy have over 10 million employees ready to serve your corporate whatever they call it. Orange powered and web-fueled, The Chopping Block... e-solutions to e-verybody."
Oranges
Oranges
Oranges and graphic design
The Chopping Block spends their time
Growing oranges, picking oranges
Then working on graphic design
The Chopping Block works all the time
All the time

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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