There is Blood on the Earth
THERE is blood on the face of the earth-
It reeks through the years, and is red:
Where Truth was slaughtered at birth,
And the veins of Liberty bled.
Lo! vain is the hand that tries
To cover the crimson stain:
It spreads like a plague, and cries
Like a soul in writhing pain.
It wasteth the planet's flesh;
It calleth on breasts of stone:
God holdeth His wrath in a leash
Till the hearts of men atone.
Blind, like the creatures of time;
Cursed, like all the race,
They answer: '' The blood and crime
Belong to a sect and place! '
What are these things to Heaven—
Races or places of men?
The world through one Christ was forgiven—
Nor question of races then.
The wrong of to-day shall be rued
In a thousand coming years;
The debt must be paid in blood,
The interest, in tears.
Shall none stand up for right
Whom the evil passes by?
But God had the globe in sight,
And hearkens the weak one's cry.
Wherever a principle dies—
Nay, principles never die!
But wherever a ruler lies,
And a people share the lie;
Where right is crushed by force,
And manhood is stricken dead—
There dwelleth the ancient curse,
And the blood on the earth is red!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The Crowing of the Red Cock
Across the Eastern sky has glowed
The flicker of a blood-red dawn,
Once more the clarion cock has crowed,
Once more the sword of Christ is drawn.
A million burning rooftrees light
The world-wide path of Israel's flight.
Where is the Hebrew's fatherland?
The folk of Christ is sore bestead;
The Son of Man is bruised and banned,
Nor finds whereon to lay his head.
His cup is gall, his meat is tears,
His passion lasts a thousand years.
Each crime that wakes in man the beast,
Is visited upon his kind.
The lust of mobs, the greed of priest,
The tyranny of kings, combined
To root his seed from earth again,
His record is one cry of pain.
When the long roll of Christian guilt
Against his sires and kin is known,
The flood of tears, the life-blood spilt,
The agony of ages shown,
What oceans can the stain remove,
From Christian law and Christian love?
Nay, close the book; not now, not here,
The hideous tale of sin narrate,
Reëchoing in the martyr's ear,
Even he might nurse revengeful hate,
Even he might turn in wrath sublime,
With blood for blood and crime for crime.
Coward? Not he, who faces death,
Who singly against worlds has fought,
For what? A name he may not breathe,
For liberty of prayer and thought.
The angry sword he will not whet,
His nobler task is -- to forget.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Second Birth
Through faith, to God we show true worth
His Lamp then leads to second birth
But not a birth as most presume
We need no more a mother’s womb
The Lord Himself will dwell within
His Holy Flame convicts of sin
The eyes of God compute each thought
In all who trust His true report
With peace and joy He comes from high
The answers to what, to where and why
Power; through grace that none should boast
God’s Guiding Lamp His Holy Ghost
This second chance to live, is free
The price was paid on Calvary
In truth; Christ came to die on earth
That man may live through second birth
Upon the tree Christ bore all shame
That man may bear a brand new name
God’s blood seeped neath the cursed ground
So guilt in man may not be found
In Jesus’ death is Heaven’s door
God opened wide when curtains tore
His precious blood cleans spot and stain
So God may hear from man again
When Christ man laid within the tomb
It served God’s purpose as a womb
When Christ arose from neath the earth
He stood as first with second birth
In Jesus Christ, the same we’ll share
When all life’s cares to Him we bear
When humble hearts see Heaven’s Door
We’ll enter through and die no more...
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Angels Lie
She sent me to a place where Angels scream me to sleep
Swallowing mouthfuls of pain, I'm in too deep
A place where my soul fails to exist
Pretty little flowers carve away at my wrist
Heaven sent for my demise
It suffocated me with your lies
I hold back the tears until it's blood I cry
I bleed myself to sleep when Angels lie
Lies Lies Lies
I'm choking on your lies
A summers day with acid rain
Head held high I fight the pain
Crimson drips from the corner of my eyes
Behind your innocent smile there's a thousand lies
Heaven sent for my demise
It suffocated me with your lies
I hold back the tears until it's blood I cry
I bleed myself to sleep when Angels lie
Lies Lies Lies
I'm choking on your lies
The clouds pierce right through my vision
Cherubs with razorblades drive me into collision
My ears bleed like hanging Angel cries
Sleep smotheres my face and all I see are lies
Heaven sent for my demise
It suffocated me with your lies
I hold back the tears until it's blood I cry
I bleed myself to sleep when Angels lie
Lies Lies Lies
I'm choking on your lies
poem by TyjaRae Guy
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Why is there Oil?
Why is there oil I asked one night,
and a startling answer came into sight.
It’s Mother’s Earth’s blood, that is what oil is,
It’s Sacred and my blood to share.
Be wise in your pumping
Man is not to do wrong with this blood,
For it’s not to be shed so humans end up dead
for here is what she seriously said:
“You are pumping the blood right out of ME,
Which makes ME very Sad,
The spilling has greatly affected
My Land
and my Ocean,
Which has caused a commontion
.
There is a better way,
Let Your
CONSCIOUS take the LEAD…
…Please take heed.'
THE END
Copyright 2010 Christina Sunrise
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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As The Red Wine Into The Cup Is Poured
Christ the Lamb upon the alter stone.
Christ the sacrifice to atone.
Christ's blood, the wines a token.
Christ the bread that was broken.
As the grape was crushed to make the wine
so Christ was crushed for sins of mine.
As the red wine into the cup was poured
so Christ for me His blood outpoured.
As the bread was broken that we share
so Christ was broken upon the cross there.
'Father forgive, ' I hear Him cry
so I could live He was willing to die.
The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
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Blood & Fire
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
There is no more water to out the fire
There is no more water to out the fire
Let it burn, let it burn
Let it burn, burn burn
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Judgement has come and mercy has gone (mercy come and gone)
Ooh, weak hearts shall lick up and spit up (weakheart must get lick up)
Judgement has come and mercy has gone (judgement time is here)
Ooh, weak hearts shall lick up and spit up (weakheart must get sick up)
Let it burn, let it burn
Let it burn, burn burn (mercy gone)
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Rasta hail!
Blessed is the weed, the healing of all nations in every corner of the earth
Blessed are the fields of sensimillia that enlighten and erich our soul
Blood and fire mek it burn bredren
All weak hearts shall lick up and spit up
And all righteous shall stand
Hail, rasta hail and wail (rastafari)
Hail rasta dont quail (we not quail)
Let it burn, burn burn
Let it burn, burn burn
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Montsgur
I stand alone in this desolate space
In death they are truly alive
Massacred innocence, evil took place
The angels were burning inside
Centuries later I wonder why
What secret that they took to their grave
Still burning heretics under our skies
Religion's still burning inside
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god will know his own
The innocents died for the pope on his throne
Catholic greed and its paranoid zeal
Curse of the grail and the blood of the cross
Templar believers with blood on their hands
Joined in the choruse to kill on demand
Burned at the stake for their soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars to die and be free
The book of old testament crippled and black
Satan his weapon is lust
Living this evil damnation of flesh
Back to the torture of life
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god know his own
Laugh at the darkness and in god we trust
The eye of the triangle smiling with sin
No passover feast for the cursed within
Facing the sun as they went to their grave
Burn like a dog or you live like a slave
Death is the price for your soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars and to die and be free
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood And Fire
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
There is no more water to out the fire
There is no more water to out the fire
Let it burn, let it burn
Let it burn, burn burn
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Judgement has come and mercy has gone (mercy come and gone)
Ooh, weak hearts shall lick up and spit up (weakheart must get lick up)
Judgement has come and mercy has gone (judgement time is here)
Ooh, weak hearts shall lick up and spit up (weakheart must get sick up)
Let it burn, let it burn
Let it burn, burn burn (mercy gone)
Blood, blood, blood; blood and fire
Rasta Hail!
Blessed is the weed, the healing of all nations in every corner of the earth
Blessed are the fields of sensimillia that enlighten and erich our soul
Blood and fire mek it burn bredren
All weak hearts shall lick up and spit up
And all righteous shall stand
Hail, Rasta hail and wail (rastafari)
Hail Rasta don't quail (we not quail)
Let it burn, burn burn
Let it burn, burn burn
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red
Place that bayonet in my hand,
And fill this pouch with lead;
Show me the blood and leave me, and let me
Stand
By my dead.
Cover those staring eyes and go
And stab in the red, red rain.
Show me that blood and leave me. They groan
In the snow.
With the pain.
Cover his head with a scarlet cloak,
And run to your scarlet strife,
Show me that blood and leave me, where white
Snows choke
Out the life.
Turn his face to the sanguine skies,
The skies where the red stars move.
Show me that blood and leave me; a dead man lies
With his love.
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why is there Oil?
Why is there oil I asked one night,
and a startling answer came into sight.
It’s Mother’s Earth’s blood, that is what oil is,
It’s Sacred and my blood to share.
Be wise in your pumping
Man is not to do wrong with this blood,
For it’s not to be shed so humans end up dead
for here is what she seriously said:
“You are pumping the blood right out of ME,
Which makes ME very Sad,
The spilling has greatly affected
My Land
and my Ocean,
Which has caused a commontion
.
There is a better way,
Let Your
CONSCIOUS take the LEAD…
…Please take heed.'
THE END
Copyright 2010 Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Resurgite!- June, 1877
NOW, for the faith that is in ye,
Polander, Sclav, and Kelt!
Prove to the world what the lips have hurled
The hearts have grandly felt.
Rouse, ye races in shackles!
See in the East, the glare
Is red in the sky, and the warning cry
Is sounding—'Awake! Prepare!'
A voice from the spheres—a hand downreached
To hands that would be free,
To rend the gyves from the fettered lives
That strain toward Liberty!
Circassia! the cup is flowing
That holdeth perennial youth:
Who strikes succeeds, for when manhood bleeds
Each dropp is a Cadmus' tooth.
Sclavonia! first from the sheathing
Thy knife to the cord that binds;
Thy one-tongued host shall renew the boast:
'The Scythians are the Winds!'
Greece! to the grasp of heroes,
Flashed with thine ancient pride,
Thy swords advance: in the passing chance
The great of heart are tried.
Poland! thy lance-heads brighten:
The Tartar has swept thy name
From the schoolman's chart, but the patriot's heart
Preserves its lines in flame.
Ireland! mother of dolors,
The trial on thee descends:
Who quaileth in fear when the test is near,
His bondage never ends.
Oppression, that kills the craven,
Defied, is the freeman's good:
No cause can be lost forever whose cost
Is coined from Freedom's blood!
Liberty's wine and altar
Are blood and human right;
Her weak shall be strong while the struggle with wrong
Is a sacrificial fight.
Earth for the people—their laws their own—
An equal race for all:
Though shattered and few who to this are true
Shall flourish the more they fall.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood Too Hot
I came all around the world just to be with you
Ive been flying supersonic, between black and blue
I promised I'd be there
And now I'm here and I won't go
Before I give you everything I've got
You left everything behind, just to feel that touch
To join the family of spiders. really means so much
There's a storm up in the air
It's the power we all share
When it runs through our flesh and blood
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
I came all around the world, like on flying wings
To hear you screaming out for more, still means everything
Raise your hands up in the air
I swear to you that I'II be there
I swear it, in the name of rock
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curse and Wrath
it's hard to live a life with a freaking place...
where demons dwell..
hurts you physically and emotionally..
Sometimes I'd love to see this person die in vain...
Burn in hell.
crushed to powder...
grind there flesh...
plunged a knife on his face and twist until blood flows down...
Squeeze his eyes to drought..
spill every single dropp of his sinful blood.
He shall never live more..
he shall never see another light upon my superiority's arrival...
The execution of my revenge is a million and infinity of mine disgust and suffer...
Compare a filth's life to mine who have them?
how ignorant..
how foolish...
As tears flood my face...
of pain, wrath, humiliation and disgust...
Each dropp contains curses..
curses of his death...
of his tragic death..
the existence of this wrath..
intensified by every approach of days..
I hold and tolerate the pain...
I can hold merely the humiliation but
the verbs, the insult, all the pain it made to me..
It's killing me..
It had actually deleted my humanity..
My rights! My ego! My mind! my thoughts! myself he violated...
My anger shall never subside..
This curse shall prompt him in anyways, in any time, any moment, any situation..
He shall die in vain...
He shall die in much pain..
He should feel an eternity of my revenge..
a million of millenniums under hell's fire...
and another under the Ice and the mist.
Death shall visit him often but death shall not conquer him before his sufferance...
His soul be imprisoned in a chamber of eternal fire of regrets and loneliness..
His death shall be brought by insanity and depression..
He shall die a thousand times..
His bones crushed into several pieces..
His blood shall condense and fall as rain..
His veins shall explode and his heart be frozen..
His brains be eaten by worms..
He shall be disintegrated effectively
he shall be gone...
poem by Ellirie Aviles
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No Difference
The other day I wrote a poem
and a friend asked me how I
could feel the pain of her kind,
as she was a different race from me.
You are white and I am black,
so how could you feel the pain I felt?
The answer was simple
we were not of a different race.
There is only one race, the human race.
We maybe different in the colour of our skin,
but we share each other’s pain.
I share yours and you share mine
whenever we are struck by grief.
We may eat different food,
but we both breathe the same air.
We see through different coloured eyes,
but we both see the same things.
There is no difference between us
except within our colour
and I am a man and you are a woman,
but that is where the difference ends.
We both have a heart that beats
and lungs that breathe in air.
No difference there.
If we are cut, we bleed
and our blood is red.
No difference there.
Therefore, you see I can feel your hurt,
feel the tears when you cry.
Now my question is if we were blind
what colour would you see?
The answer is simple,
the same colour as me.
There is no difference between us;
we each belong to the same race.
We are the same,
but with a different face.
16 March 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Why The Son Was Given
For unto us a child was born, and unto us The Son was given.
Through The Son I am reborn, and by His blood I am forgiven.
On a cross of shame and scorn, His life for all was freely given.
Many hearts indeed were torn, as the temple curtain was riven.
But that was the end of The Law, and began the Age of Grace.
And access was open to all, who in prayer would seek His face.
This was for men big and small, at any time and from any place.
He came to redeem from the fall, all the sinners of Adam’s race.
The only man, who had no sin, came into this world to be a light.
A world that was made by Him, and filled by men with evil blight.
His light in me He placed within, to guide me in the darkest night.
And as you faithfully follow Him, He fills you with eternal delight.
Christ came as God had willed, to become the Savior of all men.
Christ Jesus being Spirit filled, said that men must be born again.
But by His own, Christ was killed, as one who stood condemned.
However friend this only fulfilled, Christ’s set purpose for all men.
The reason Jesus came to earth, was to be God’s final sacrifice.
For short of Glory was our worth, and so The Son paid the price,
So from God we gain new birth, and this is through Jesus Christ.
And soon we will leave this earth, to begin with Him Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©01/2006)
Wicked
Born wicked, but covered in blood, from the saving fountain above,
A fountain that flows from Calvary, to save a wicked sinner like me;
Born separated, right from my birth, as a lost sinner upon this earth,
Separated from God up above, who reached down with saving love.
God sent to us a cleansing flood, through His Son’s precious blood,
A flood which covered all the earth, affording all men a spiritual birth,
To every soul, within every nation, God offers in Christ His Salvation,
And to every sinner God offers life, through The Savior, Jesus Christ.
Dark and wicked down to my heart, but, God gave to me a new start,
Bringing me to Calvary’s Cross, He began to purge my wicked dross,
My Lord as Savior I came to know, said He’d make me white as snow,
As red as scarlet, my sin may be, I’m washed in The Blood of Calvary.
Dead in sin, I was spiritually lost, But, The Lord God, paid all the cost,
For all my sin and its punishment, through His Only Son, He had sent,
When on God’s Son my sin was laid, full payment for my sin He paid,
The Son bore all my wickedness, and gave to me, His Righteousness.
Though wicked and vile to the core, when on the cross my sin He bore,
God’s forgiveness was sent my way, and I stand in Jesus Christ today,
Now when God looks down on me, it is the Blood of Christ He will see,
The Blood which truly sets me apart, now that Christ dwells in my heart.
(Copyright ©12/2010)
His Body And Blood
I thank God for His grace and love, and for Christ’s Body and Blood,
His Body that was God’s Sacrifice, Jesus’ Body that paid sin’s price,
For Christ’s Blood, that was spilled, as The Father above, had willed,
For our Lord’s death at Calvary, so that believers could live Eternally.
It is through the very Blood of Christ, that sinners can have New Life,
From the Body, prepared for Him, redeeming souls from all their sin,
For The Lord had sent His Only Son, to be Redemption for everyone,
And all we must do is to believe, and God’s Salvation we will receive.
Today an empty grave now shows, though He died, Christ has arose,
The same power will be given to us, who, have come to Christ Jesus,
Though we are still on the earth, we receive God’s Spirit by New Birth,
Promised by our Lord to all men, when in Christ, they are Born Again.
Born of God, by The Spirit above, when we’re cleansed by His Blood,
Forgiven of all our sin and shame, all through the Power of His Name,
We are now the children of God, to walk anew upon the earth we trod,
To no longer be a part of the night, but now, to be The Savior’s Light.
This, all because God loved us first, even, when we were at our worst,
And His love was for all sinners lost, so our Lord employed the cross,
Crucifying Christ the Spotless Lamb, to pay sin’s price for every man,
This is His New Covenant of Blood, provided to us all by God’s Love.
Canto XII from The Heights of Macchu Picchu
Arise to birth with me, my brother.
Give me your hand out of the depths
sown by your sorrows.
You will not return from these stone fastnesses.
You will not emerge from subterranean time.
Your rasping voice will not come back,
nor your pierced eyes rise from their sockets.
Look at me from the depths of the earth,
tiller of fields, weaver, reticent shepherd,
groom of totemic guanacos,
mason high on your treacherous scaffolding,
iceman of Andean tears,
jeweler with crushed fingers,
farmer anxious among his seedlings,
potter wasted among his clays--
bring to the cup of this new life
your ancient buried sorrows.
Show me your blood and your furrow;
say to me: here I was scourged
because a gem was dull or because the earth
failed to give up in time its tithe of corn or stone.
Point out to me the rock on which you stumbled,
the wood they used to crucify your body.
Strike the old flints
to kindle ancient lamps, light up the whips
glued to your wounds throughout the centuries
and light the axes gleaming with your blood.
I come to speak for your dead mouths.
Throughout the earth
let dead lips congregate,
out of the depths spin this long night to me
as if I rode at anchor here with you.
And tell me everything, tell chain by chain,
and link by link, and step by step;
sharpen the knives you kept hidden away,
thrust them into my breast, into my hands,
like a torrent of sunbursts,
an Amazon of buried jaguars,
and leave me cry: hours, days and years,
blind ages, stellar centuries.
And give me silence, give me water, hope.
Give me the struggle, the iron, the volcanoes.
Let bodies cling like magnets to my body.
Come quickly to my veins and to my mouth.
Speak through my speech, and through my blood.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mater Dolorosa
Who is this that sits by the way, by the wild wayside,
In a rent stained raiment, the robe of a cast-off bride,
In the dust, in the rainfall sitting, with soiled feet bare,
With the night for a garment upon her, with torn wet hair?
She is fairer of face than the daughters of men, and her eyes,
Worn through with her tears, are deep as the depth of skies.
This is she for whose sake being fallen, for whose abject sake,
Earth groans in the blackness of darkness, and men's hearts break.
This is she for whose love, having seen her, the men that were
Poured life out as water, and shed their souls upon air.
This is she for whose glory their years were counted as foam;
Whose face was a light upon Greece, was a fire upon Rome.
Is it now not surely a vain thing, a foolish and vain,
To sit down by her, mourn to her, serve her, partake in the pain?
She is grey with the dust of time on his manifold ways,
Where her faint feet stumble and falter through year-long days.
Shall she help us at all, O fools, give fruit or give fame,
Who herself is a name despised, a rejected name?
We have not served her for guerdon. If any do so,
That his mouth may be sweet with such honey, we care not to know.
We have drunk from a wine-unsweetened, a perilous cup,
A draught very bitter. The kings of the earth stood up,
And the rulers took counsel together, to smite her and slay;
And the blood of her wounds is given us to drink today.
Can these bones live? or the leaves that are dead leaves bud?
Or the dead blood drawn from her veins be in your veins blood?
Will ye gather up water again that was drawn and shed?
In the blood is the life of the veins, and her veins are dead.
For the lives that are over are over, and past things past;
She had her day, and it is not; was first, and is last.
Is it nothing unto you then, all ye that pass by,
If her breath be left in her lips, if she live now or die?
Behold now, O people, and say if she be not fair,
Whom your fathers followed to find her, with praise and prayer,
And rejoiced, having found her, though roof they had none nor bread;
But ye care not; what is it to you if her day be dead?
It was well with our fathers; their sound was in all men's lands;
There was fire in their hearts, and the hunger of fight in their
hands.
Naked and strong they went forth in her strength like flame,
For her love's and her name's sake of old, her republican name.
But their children, by kings made quiet, by priests made wise,
Love better the heat of their hearths than the light of her eyes.
Are they children of these thy children indeed, who have sold,
O golden goddess, the light of thy face for gold?
Are they sons indeed of the sons of thy dayspring of hope,
Whose lives are in fief of an emperor, whose souls of a Pope?
Hide then thine head, O beloved; thy time is done;
Thy kingdom is broken in heaven, and blind thy sun.
What sleep is upon you, to dream she indeed shall rise,
When the hopes are dead in her heart as the tears in her eyes?
If ye sing of her dead, will she stir? if ye weep for her, weep?
Come away now, leave her; what hath she to do but sleep?
But ye that mourn are alive, and have years to be;
And life is good, and the world is wiser than we.
Yea, wise is the world and mighty, with years to give,
And years to promise; but how long now shall it live?
And foolish and poor is faith, and her ways are bare,
Till she find the way of the sun, and the morning air.
In that hour shall this dead face shine as the face of the sun,
And the soul of man and her soul and the world's be one.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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