Belligerence
Those who sat on the fence,
Yesterday.
Today,
Are belligerent.
And escape from being maced.
Or locked up,
In a cell in haste
.
But what takes place,
Could have been prevented.
But racism descended,
To keep divisions defended.
Those who sat on the fence,
Yesterday.
Today...
Are belligerent.
Because they've been hoodwinked again.
And they're belligerent.
Those who sat on the fence,
Yesterday.
Today...
Are,
Belligerent.
And dismissing what's been said,
Yet choosing to be...
Belligerent.
Yes they choose to stay,
And be this way...
Belligerent.
And dismissing what's been said,
Out of ignorance.
Those who sat on the fence,
Yesterday.
Today...
Are,
Belligerent.
And dismissing what's been said,
Yet choosing to be...
Belligerent.
Yes they choose to stay,
And be this way...
Belligerent.
And dismissing what's been said,
Out of ignorance.
People have invested in,
Belligerence.
Investments made to keep them in,
Belligerence.
People have invested in,
Belligerence.
Investments made to keep them in,
Belligerence.
Investments made to keep them in,
Belligerence.
Investments made to keep them in,
Belligerence.
Belligerence.
Investments made to keep them in,
Belligerence.
Belligerence.
Investments made to keep them in,
Belligerence.
As deliverance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Neutrality is at times a graver sin than belligerence.
quote by Louis D. Brandeis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The emphasis on the birth of Christ tends to polarize our pluralistic society and create legal and ethnic belligerence.
quote by John Clayton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Grease Called Happiness
Don't you think you deserve a break today?
We do— Because we love to see you smile.
So enjoy yourself the McDonald's way.
We'd love for you to stay with us a while.
It's always a good time for a great taste,
So be with us—Be with folks, food, and fun.
All our leftover food will go to waste.
Why not consume it until there is none?
Believe us: what you want is what you get.
Be fulfilled by a grease called happiness.
We want you to have a branded diet—
In love with the Arch's almightiness.
Feed your inner child—and belligerence.
We hope that you'll enjoy the difference.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Faith Salons (feat. Brenda Kahn)
in the faith salons they do your nails for fifteen dimes a bottle, where
someone in the darkness waits for your arrival.
in the faith salons the deals are struck, making heroes out of dust and clay.
the man gives you sixty seconds on the dollar, and walks away.
in the middle of your book of ages you write your dreams down to the letter.
tired of second chances and singles dances.
her robes were purple velvet feeling like the king of cairo.
prisoners to fools and slaves to paper gods.
in the faith salons....
the books of massacres and natural disasters,
beguiled by belligerence learned from the dancing masters.
the child on the train was a mimic mime of babble.
the mother knitted sweaters that the child would unravel.
in the faith salons....
they have medicines for madness, madness caused by drugs,
something for your headache and a spray to kill the bugs.
you walk the catwalk of polyphony, and your charades of destiny.
to whose myth of creation will you finally fall upon your knees and cry for forgiveness denied.
in the faith salons....
she'd appear like a belligerent ghost in my dreams,
in my living room, all torn apart and blue,
where the ribbons flew and the sky tore like a sheet of rain, of dust.
peace is a distant mirage where the only truth is the path and chance the only landmark in the desert.
sleeping in doorways. underneath the falling frescoes, she'd say, it's your pain. in the faith salons....
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today is better than Yesterday
Yesterday
Yesterday, I was running with to feet
Yesterday, I was playing with kids
Yesterday, I was kicking the ball
Yesterday, I had it all, all was mine.
Yesterday, I was growing well,
Yesterday, I had it all undercover
Yesterday was my day
Yesterday, my days were
Yesterday, I had a lover, ‘true lover’
Yesterday, promises were made
Yesterday, promises were not kept
Yesterday, I was happy.
Yesterday, I gave him everything
Yesterday, I sacrificed everything
Yesterday, I was a fool
Yesterday, I was dying
Today
Today, I am lying in bed
Today, I am watching hopeless kids
Today, I can hardly move
Today, everything is falling
Today, I am dying in bed
Today, it is all wrong
Today, is not my day
Today, my days are not
Today, I have no one
Today, promises are broken
Today, promises are not
Today, I have no hope
Today, I long for myself
Today, I cry over spilled milk
Today, I am wise
Today, I live
Whatever happened yesterday is not
Whatever was, is not
Whatever was broken can be fixed
Whatever wound are, can be healed
Just need the Perfect Healer
Jesus I know you are! ! !
poem by Sbonelo C Ngcobo
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Though I was not a belligerent kid, I do not think I ever passed up a good opportunity to fight.
quote by Gene Tunney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Each Season Leaves
To say today no changes have been made,
Is to exist in a stagnant vacuum.
Yesterday is not today.
Nor was yesterday the day before.
Those who perceive life,
As an opportunity to leech...
Sit waiting for someone to knock,
With a proclamation...
That allows them to breathe.
When each season leaves,
Another takes its place.
When someone opens a door...
So much more can be observed,
If steps are made to go forward...
To feel a freshness of this upon one's face.
To say today no changes have been made,
Is to exist in a stagnant vacuum.
Yesterday is not today.
Nor was yesterday the day before.
To say today no changes have been made,
Are words spoken from those...
Who have chosen the boredom,
Of a monotony to daily experience.
With a keeping of this explored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Peace as a goal is an ideal which will not be contested by any government or nation, not even the most belligerent.
quote by Aung San Suu Kyi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where We Stood
Many years ago we stood against the vile evil, and overtopped them with garden ideal
Shot them full of their own blood
Didn't hate, but killed them in their faces anyway
To preserve a certain irony, a disbelief in hard politic
So we get to today, and send off youngsters in the maw of politic belligerence
Squires and charlatans making bullets for broken and cracked teenagers
Back home, back home.
Defending these makers' ideals
poem by Disk Grinder
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A belligerent state permits itself every such misdeed, every such act of violence, as would disgrace the individual.
quote by Sigmund Freud
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Benefits of a Suppression
As a show of unified belligerence,
They defy truth...
And those who speak it!
Coming together as they do,
In a mental collective sickness.
One of consciousness would not believe,
If not witnessed.
It is a torture of sorts.
An oppression they have been taught,
To self inflict.
And they get upset...
Quickly!
If anyone mentions it.
Or assist in its resistance.
This is a brand of slavery,
Without an appearance of a branding done!
And yet accepted by everyone addicted.
For all of the benefits,
Of a suppression they get!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Are My PARAMOUR
You are my paramour
therefore, ye cannot tell a soul
I am your living Armour
and thus, you are to protect
to heaven and from hell
Thou, it is forbidden love
we face
But together, we shield the
lightning volts of Zeus, together
we can move mountains, together
we can empty the ocean, the seas
It is that i am enamored by everything
of you...
It was belligerence of our love...that was true
Hedonism! where my life is based on!
Sybaritic, how i live from now on....
poem by Frances Lugtu
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The Headmaster Ritual
Belligerent ghouls
Run manchester schools
Spineless swines
Cemented minds
Sir leads the troops
Jealous of youth
Same old suit since 1962
He does the military two-step
Down the nape of my neck
I wanna go home
I dont wanna stay
Give up education
As a bad mistake
Mid-week on the playing fields
Sir thwacks you on the knees
Knees you in the groin
Elbow in the face
Bruises bigger than dinner plates
I wanna go home
I dont wanna stay
Da-da-da ...
Belligerent ghouls
Run manchester schools
Spineless bastards all ...
Sir leads the troops
Jealous of youth
Same old jokes since 1902
He does the military two-step
Down the nape of my neck
I wanna go home
I dont want to stay
Give up life
As a bad mistake
Please excuse me from gym
Ive got this terrible cold coming on
He grabs and devours
He kicks me in the showers
Kicks me in the showers
And he grabs and devours
I want to go home
I dont want to stay...
Da-da-da ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most middle-class whites have no idea what it feels like to be subjected to police who are routinely suspicious, rude, belligerent, and brutal.
quote by Benjamin Spock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Progress?
Whatever one man can invent
to benefit his fellow men.
Some other man without consent
will twist its purpose if he can..
A simple too for men to use
in pursuit of their sustenance.
Is always open to abuse
dependent on the circumstance.
A digging stick becomes a spear
a way to kill the enemy.
Men have made progress it is clear
improving their ability.
To kill more men efficiently
Mass killing now is common place.
Man is mans worst enemy
that is the truth we have to face
Eventually the human race will
disappear and leave no trace.
Unless we change our attitude.
it is most fitting that we should.
Another failed experiment
an error Mother Nature made.
She made us too belligerent
to live in peace I am afraid.
11-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Today - the Yesterday of Tomorrow
today is the yesterday
of tomorrow
today is also the tomorrow
of yesterday
yesterday was the today
of the then tomorrow
tomorrow which is the now today
is the tomorrow of yesterday
what is yesterday's yesterday?
what is the today of today?
what will be the tomorrow of tomorrow?
yesterday made today
today is creating tomorrow
the now today will be the
yesterday of the incoming tomorrow
and that tomorrow will become today
but tomorrow is yet unknown
for there is no today without yesterday
and no yesterday without today
but tomorrow will be unknown
from wired thoughts
marchanism.com
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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Today....is
Today, today and today was like today, a remeberance of today won't feel like yesterday or it won't feel like tommorow but it feels like today and it will always feel like today no yesterday or tommorow will change today, oh today taking out days away like yesterday that's what today means it means no tommorow it means no yesterdays I will not dare to relive my past but stay in the present...stay in today that's what I want to do.......bc today is, and today was the day that I....yes I made a difference........L/S
poem by Luisa Sanchez
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That was yesterday
That was yesterday
Someone asked me
If I had fallen astray in any particular way
I replied, ’ That was yesterday, not today’
Yesterday
I took the sunshine without making any hay
Yesterday
I allowed all my silver white teeth to decay
Yesterday
I partied and played each and every other day
Yesterday
I made friends and became the traitor who betrayed
Yesterday
I worked hard without getting my rightful pay
Yesterday
I only listened to whatever others had to say
Yesterday
I was always sad and never wore a face jubilantly gay
That was yesterday
Today is today
Yesterday I fell astray
I think it was almost every other day
But that changed in the month of May
As I got down on my knees to pray
Yesterday, Yesterday is gone
I’m free
I’m free
From yesterdays race
I’m back home in my rightful place
Life is work and not just play
Those answers came without delay
Yes but! That was yesterday, not today
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Margaret Thatcher
Ethics detached from intelligence
(a dangerous thing in woman) .
She abused her education
by sunbathing her ego
in every passing neon light.
Because of this, in later years
she succumbed to a hoarse belligerence
(a dangerous thing in woman) .
This led to premature decline
and loss of the key to her precious memories
which was all she had salvaged from her good years
before her sycophants turned against her
in favour of a council estate boy.
poem by Brian Taylor
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