The Peacemaker
To the world-wanderer Samarkand is near,
The broad Pacific but a narrow strait.
To him old China at the Asian gate
A neighbor is, an elder brother dear.
Toward savage coasts he dares his bark to steer,
Bidding the tempest bear him on in state.
He knocks at tombs where kings their summons wait,
And meets the gods of eld in deserts drear.
So to the traveller who has long explored
Tropics of sickness, rocky wastes of pain,
Or arctic solitudes of icy sorrow—
To him is death no foe remote, abhorred,
But a wise friend, a peacemaker who fain
Would marry loud today with shy tomorrow.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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Related quotes
Peacemaker Die
Peacemaker die,
Mr. righteous one
You say you have this plan?
If we care to understand
Peacemaker die,
Mr. nice guy
You dare to speak the truth?
Ill twist and turn it into lies
Blessed are the warmongers,
Blessed are the warmongers
For they shall be called,
Man-made gods
Peacemaker die,
Peacemaker die,
Peacemaker die,
I dont know why?
Peacemaker die,
Peacemaker die,
Peacemaker die,
Peacemaker die,
Peacemaker die,
I dont know why?
Peacemaker die,
Mr. goody two
Do you really thing the world
Can be black, white, and jew?
Peacemaker die,
Mr. music man
Dont turn your back on me?
Cause Im the one with the gun
Blessed are the warmongers,
Blessed are the warmongers,
For they shall be called,
Sons of god
I have a dream this afternoon,
That the brotherhood of man,
Will become a reality
In this day, with this faith,
I will go out and,
Carve the tunnel of hope,
Through the mountain of despair
With this faith,
I will go out with you and,
Transform dark yesterdays
Into bright tomorrows
With this faith,
We will be able to achieve
This new day
When all of gods children,
Black men and white men,
Jews and gentiles,
Protestants and catholics
Will be able to join hands
And sing with the negroes,
In the spiritual of old
Free at last, free at last,
Thank God almighty,
Were free at last.
Mine
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tomorrow I’ll Be Stronger
Today I stand and ideate
Of the tomorrow I intend to create
With hopes and dreams, a joyful state
Cos today, I have been asked to wait
Today I work toward a tomorrow
Devoid of sadness and sorrow
Where joy can be found flourishing
And life completely enriching
Today I fight my phobias
My sadness and despair
And look toward a bright future
That tomorrow’s going to share
Today I stand in guilt,
For the mistakes I have committed
But work with all my heart to fix
The priorities I just omitted
Today is still a reality,
That’s staring in my face
Telling me of all the things I miss
Of all the things I chase
Today works on my feelings
My weakest points, exposed
But they’ll still exist tomorrow
Just taken care of and closed
Today might get the better of me,
But that’s a small price pay
Cos tomorrow I’ll be stronger still
And make that better way, stay
So bear with me for today,
In case I stumble or fall
To seem me rise again much stronger,
Wait till tomorrow before you call.
poem by Vijay Jacob
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A Part Of Happiness
If you want a big happiness part
Then listen with an open heart
And be brave to bear it all
Either its a pain or a joy that's small
So never hurry in listening to
The wishes of heart passing through
Any phase of trouble or pain
And any trace of joy or fain
And try working hard each day
For happiness is found along the way
So don't wait till you meet the end
For then life will not happiness send
And learn this rule of happiness today
That it is found along life's way
So don't feel inside bad or narrow
For happiness time is today and tomorrow.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Dear Sorrow, Death Awaits Your Acquaintance
The rain keeps Falling
And the Pain goes on
Your name I try calling
But the words just pass on by
The air
Bitter and cold
The shivers now suddenly unfold
I start to lose my breath
And once again see death
Face to Face we see
That life for me, isn't supposed to be
'She is Not important,
Shes lost in the shadows..
Drowning in grief and pain
There will be no tomorrow,
For she is all Sorrow'
'She is all sorrow'
There shall be no Tomorrow for Dear Sweet Sorrow.
Sorrow, Sorrow In the air
Death Has come so stay prepared.
poem by Sorrow Lynn
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It's Not Yet Over
A bleeding heart hits the page
The deep red stain sinks through
The soft sent of burning sage
Signals the death of you
But come to life my dear friend
It's not your time to go
You may think this is the end
But I will not believe it is so
So come to life again today
The light my just be near
Fight your way through the fray
And do not fight the tears
The pain you feel is true I know
But loss is not always forever
Though your thrown to and fro
I refuse to cause this sever
My dear friend stay here with me
The eternal night has not yet come
My dear friend just wait and see
We can make it if we run
She may be gone for now
But wait and see
Do not make yet, your final bow
She may yet think 'You and me'
Give her the time you took yourself
All the confusion not yet clear
Put your pain and fear upon the shelf
And tell her how you'ld hold her dear
I write this for you my friend
For I know your pain
I write this for you my friend
In hopes that you come through again.
poem by John Dillenger II
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Worries Of Sorrow
When worries of sorrow
Comes in your way
Then don't get upset
Just learn to stay
calm and cool
To overcome them
And with courage
And virtue's hem
wait for good time
That is through narrow
But will surely come
If you wait till tomorrow
And leave some for
The future hours
For time has got
An excessive power
To heal the wounds
And all the pain
That gets in the way
Of everyone's lane
So with patience and hope
wait for the tomorrow
And try to cut on the
Worries of the sorrow.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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In Memoriam : Francis Archibald Douglas
Dear friend, dear brother, I have owed you this
Since many days, the tribute of a song.
Shall I cheat you who never did a wrong
To any man ? No, therefore though I miss
All art, all skill, in this short armistice
From my soul's war against the bitter throng
Of present woes, let these poor lines be strong
In love enough to bear a brother's kiss.
Dear saint, true knight, I cannot weep for you,
Nor if I could would I call back the breath
To your dear body ; God is very wise,
All that this year had in its womb He knew,
And, loving you, He sent His Son like Death,
To put His hand over your kind gray eyes.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Enter In
'Enter in, through te narrow gate;
For, wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction! !
And, many are those who go that way'.
However, if you want life, then, the narrow way is what you need;
Because, straight is the gate, and few are hose who have found it!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Song of the Torres Strait Islands
Bold Torres, the sailor, came and went,
with his swarthy, storm-worn band,
he saw Saavedra's Isle to north-
to south a loom of land.
He left unknowing his name would live
through ages with big fate,
as the first to stem with broad-bowed ship
the wash of the Northern Strait.
Round the western coast the Dutch ships crept,
seeking the hidden way;
some left their bones on that bare, west coast,
and the others sailed away.
Turned back, turned back, by reef and shoal,
twin guards of the narrow gate-
the path of the sun from the eastern seas-
they were mocked by the Northern Strait.
Year in, year out, the monsoons swept
o'er the isles of the coral shore,
The savage tossed in his frail canoe,
but the white man came no more.
No sail in sight at the flash of dawn!
No sail at the gloaming late!
Silent and still was the lonley pass-
Unsought was the Northern Strait.
A rattle of arms and a roll of drums,
and the meteor flag flies free,
as an English voice proclaims King George
Lord of the tropic sea.
The parrots scream as the volleys flash;
the gulls their haunts vacate;
and the 'south-east' fills the 'Endeavours' sails
as she heads through the Northern Strait.
And ever since then has our watch been kept
o'er the ships in the narrow way,
where the smoking funnels flare by night,
and the house-flags flaunt by day.
Ever the same strong south-east blows,
and ever we watch and wait,
the wardens we, in Australia's name,
the guard of the Northern Strait.
poem by Ernest Favenc
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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It's not that I hate women, Dear homegrown comrades
By Ombuge Moses
Dear Homegrown comrades,
It’s not that I hate women
As naught as I may look
As humble as I am
In-fact,
I treasure women
I love women
I adore women
I want to date a woman
Marry a woman
Have children
Have a birth control
Be a village elder
Not a polygamist
As you say it, culture dictates
But the way you do it!
It’s not that I hate women
Dear homegrown comrades
At 12 years
Young girl is sent
A razor to buy
A river to wash
The bush to host
Home not to turn
The cut, so merciless
So inhuman
So painful
The elder women
Steer the process
Culture to maintain
The men are mobilized
Bidding for a wife
A wife at 12
This is not human
It’s not that I hate women
Dear homegrown comrades
The young girl wails
Pain to suffocation
Pain of a bloody cut
A cut treasured by society
Maintained by women
Elderly, to be home
Preparations to make
To make, a wife
A wife at 12
Dear homegrown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
In the bush, she is tied
Tied together, her legs
Urine not to spill
Spilling is bad omen
More cut is initiated
This hurting feeling
As you read
Am hurting
To witness, to victim
Think twice
Upon my letter
It’s not that I hate women
Dear homegrown comrades
Its weeks of heeling
A process of making
Making a wife
A wife at 12
Men continue bidding
Local brew in containers
Highest bidder carries the day
Walking tall, tall they are
Short is the girl
A wife at 12
Dear homegrown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
The man maybe tall, short, thin but not fat
The man maybe 98
Maybe 70
Maybe 48
Maybe 32
Maybe 21
Maybe 13
The wife at 12
The highest bidder
Takes her away
This culture is a pain
The pain has to stop
Dear home grown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
From the bush
The girl is brought
Lead by elderly women
Celebrations underway
Men prepare the meat
A wife is ready
The husband of any age
The wife at 12
The people are happy
Culture is blossoming
Ululations are heard
The animal lost a life
A wife has been made
Its not amusing
A wife at 12
Dear homegrown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
The men are lined
The women Dance
The meat in plenty
The chosen woman
Most, elderly
Reveals the secret
To the girl about husband to be
The girl is to point
Failure result to beating
Hurting the healing girl
Until she chooses
The husband to be
Culture dictates
Dear home grown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
As sun sets
Dust settles
Bones pile
New territory created
Polygamy has ruled
Chosen husband
Highest bidder
98 years of age
Has a new wife
A wife at 12
To pile in a hut
Children to bear
Culture dictates
To this
A risky business
As you call me “the village boy”
Until we change
Dear home grown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
Women to be protect
Educated to be
Marriage when they want
Hard it may sound
To this I rest
In my hat
My skin bed, so cold
Tomorrow not to witness
Dear homegrown comrades
In my heart
Women I love
It’s a mistake to mistake me
Its not that I hate women
Yours,
The village Boy
poem by Ombuge M Moses
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I'm Tired Of Life
I'm tired, I'm tired of life, brother!
Of all that meets my eye;
And my weary spirit fain would pass
To worlds beyond the sky.
For there is naught on earth, brother,
For which I'd wish to live;
Not all the glittering gauds of wealth
One hour of peace can give.
I'm weary,--sick at heart, brother,
Of heartless pomp and show!
And ever comes some cloud to dim
The little joy I know.
This world is not the world, brother,
It seemed in days agone,
When I viewed it through the rainbow mists
Of childhood's rosy dawn.
I would not pain your heart, brother--
I know you love me well;
And that love is laid upon my soul,
E'en as a holy spell.
But I'm weary of this world, brother,
This world of sin and care;
And my spirit fluttereth to be free,
To mount the upper air!
I know not of the world, brother,
To which I wish to go;
And perhaps my soul may there awake
To know a deeper woe!
They say the pure of earth, brother,
Find there undying bliss;
While all the wicked ones are cast
Into a dark abyss!
I look upon the stars, brother,
That gem the vault of blue;
And when they tell me 'God is love,'
I feel it must be true;
For I see on all around, brother,
The impress of a hand
That blendeth and uniteth all
In one harmonious band.
I am that which I am, brother,
As the Creator made;
To _Him_, all-holy and all-pure,
No fault can e'er be laid.
He knows my weakness well, brother,
And I can trust his love
To bear me safe through Jordan's stream
To brighter worlds above.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Not Tomorrow
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because she will be in sorrow,
Tell her to come if she is ready for horror.
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because tomorrow the money i promised isn't in my rotate,
Tell her to come if she can tolerate.
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because tomorrow the plan to marry her is not yet set,
Tell her to come if she can continue wait.
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because tomorrow my landlord will make a debts chase,
Tell her to come if she will help me carry bed and briefcase.
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because tomorrow is my day for an affair with her rival,
Tell her to come if she is able to fight for love survival.
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because tomorrow i will be writting a divorce letter to her,
Tell her to come if she can add bitter words in her letter.
Tell your sister not to come tomorrow,
because tomorrow is not a day to come,
Tell her to come if she dont know the day.
poem by Abdallah Mpogole
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A Different Direction
Once I was asked for just some affection
to lay down beside just to hold and comfort
I said no it was a pretense to get me to let go
Then I was asked didn't I ever want just affection
I said no I wanted love and love was in another direction
your expression of pain and sorrow hurt as you softly said
and what of tomorrow
I walked away glade to get away
and never thought about tomorrow
until today for today is that tomorrow
and oh how just a little affection now
would take away so much sorrow
So now in my pain as I long for affection
I remember when I chose a different direction.
poem by Steven Sabathie
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Tomorrow
Tomorrow it is
Tomorrow we will
See where the roads they lead
Tomorrow's my dream
Tomorrow's the better me
Tomorrow never may be
Looking inside tomorrow's head
Tomorrow pretends to be brain dead
Tomorrow wants me to long for him
I spend today seeing tomorrow's beam
Tomorrow is there
Yesterday's tomorrow is here
Yet tomorrow I seek
My lamp's got enough oil and wick
Tomorrow where are you?
I've seen today but I look out for tomorrow's dew
Not today, I'll take care of that tomorrow
Tomorrow I'm here, tomorrow you're today
From 5years old, I'm 50years old one more day
The hour-glass spins and sands they turn
The clock it ticks, the second-hand warns
Tomorrow is today gone
What have you done? .
poem by Jenim Dibie
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Living For Tomorrow
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for today
Lets make this world
A better place to live
Stop to take
Start to give
Loves got the power
To get it done
To stop the pain
Of a killing gun
And even if you say
Were gonna die today
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for today
Cause love will find a way my friend
Whatever it will take
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for today
Why dont we try today my friend
To make this world a better place
Lets make this life
A better life to live
Stop to hate
Learn to forgive
Evil power can kill
The human race
If we give life
A human face (a human face)
And even if you say
Were gonna die today
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for toda
Cause love will find a way my friend
Whatever it will take
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for today
Why dont we try today my friend
To make this world a better place (a better place)
And even if you say
Were gonna die today
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for today
Cause love will find a way my friend
Whatever it will take
Im still living for tomorrow
Im living for today
Why dont we try today my friend
To make this world a better place
Im still living for tomorrow
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Syria
Is this the end of the world?
What have happened to you world?
Why you became so savage and your brutality is hard to be told
It's breaking my heart to millions of pieces
While the children of the same country
Brothers.........
People who have the same nationality are killing, hurting.destroying each other
Motherland Syria you are wounded my dear land
You're crying blood because It's hard for a mother to behold
I know your heart is broken the most
It's hard for a mother to bear this ugly reality which is unbelievable and destroys A mother's heart the most
When brothers hurt each other
Nothing stood in the world the same
After today nothing could be the same
The world has lost its measures and all theories have been changed
Everything has became above the ability to be understood
When the pity from the world is lost
While the brother is wishing death for his brother
When the hungry eyes of the people are gazing around
As the animals in the jungles looking for blood
To satisfy their hunger
What else left yet world?
More ugliness tell us world?
Do you have more?
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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China (Ronson Vocal)
China, China, the evening's moving in
See you, soon now, the boat moves with the wind
China, China, I can see the harbour lights
Light your, fire, we'll be warm tonight
China, China, the thoughts drift from the sea
I'm dreaming, of you, wear your dress for me
China, China, the oceans on the wheel(?)
The seagulls flying lower now
China I can feel you by my side
Across the bay, across the Tyne
Can you hear me say
China, China, wear your hair down low
Lady, Lady, you're frozen to the bone
China, China, the catch was good today
The oilskins clinging to my back
And the lantern gently sways
Oh don't you cry, the kids to bed
Didn't mean the things I said
China, China, the years go rolling by
Laughter, sorrow, I will not make you cry
China, China, think before you speak
Always remember the ocean hauls as deep
And if I'm tired of feeling low
Don't let me sleep, you know
China, China, the men are on the quay
Drinking, smoking, talking quietly
The water's calmer now
All my work is done
So China, see ya.
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Subalterns
I
'Poor wanderer,' said the leaden sky,
'I fain would lighten thee,
But there are laws in force on high
Which say it must not be.'
II
-'I would not freeze thee, shorn one,' cried
The North, 'knew I but how
To warm my breath, to slack my stride;
But I am ruled as thou.'
III
-'To-morrow I attack thee, wight,'
Said Sickness. 'Yet I swear
I bear thy little ark no spite,
But am bid enter there.'
IV
-'Come hither, Son,' I heard Death say;
'I did not will a grave
Should end thy pilgrimage to-day,
But I, too, am a slave!'
V
We smiled upon each other then,
And life to me had less
Of that fell look it wore ere when
They owned their passiveness.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Investment Apology
Investment Apology
In this air I do aspire
to appeal and make aware, -
Allah answer all anger -
else ague appear and attract ire
Bait can but bate the buyer!
Brokers must the market bear,
bidding board while bulls be bear,
blare is bare and boars betire.
Why cry the creator’s choir?
Calm your coma, clear your care!
Come, seek and call the cover.
Can still the chartists’ charts inquire!
Dost dearly dollar desire?
Dabbler dare, don’t disappear, -
dealer’s drear or in despair,
His strait’s dire, his coffer drier.
Fear a further fall to fire?
That your future fare be fair
find a fella full of flair,
full of feel for a fine flier.
Th’institutional investor,
out of gear, he tears his hair.
Interest rates round here I hear
High, hint heavily hunt higher.
The alphabet is far too long
to continue this careless song,
so here’s to hope, and let us pray
tomorrow brings a brighter day.
19 June 1974
Paris Parley Parle_19740607_The Market today could go either way ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_0007_robi3_0000 XXX_JXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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