You Picked the Right Day for Torture
You picked the right day for torture.
It was too quiet and serene,
To be left untampered.
You wanted your presence felt...
And it was.
You picked the right day for torture
With or without a diet regimen
Or implementation of facts.
What you do behind one's back...
Is left to your interpretation.
Your rules and dispositions are taught!
Although not followed,
And neither held in high esteem.
You picked the right day for torture...
Perhaps now you can see in bright daylight,
The victims you continue to abuse
Are of your own kind.
And of them none can say you frighten.
Yet all have been too quick to say you are crazed!
And today you are here believing you will be praised,
And honored?
You picked the right day for torture!
And how much of it you take...
Will not leave a witness to feel remorse,
Or show heartbreak!
They have come to watch you exploit,
Your own pain!
You have picked the right day for torture!
Everyone came to give you the limelight,
And the fame you claim!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mr. Torture
Welcome to the torture chamber
said the sign above the entrance
laughinh as it taked you by the hand
Looking as i maniac savage
inside you can sense the anguish
theatre of pain has just begun
Mr.Torture gives pain
with his whips and his chains
he knows just what you crave
Mr. Torture
If youre feeling alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr. Torture sells pain
Only sixty sents a minute
for his special brand of singing
phone guaranteed to blow your mind
You can catch him on a website
has a live chat every weeknight
cyber-torture soon coming your way
Mr Torture sells pain
to the houswives in Spain
he knows just what you crave
Mr Torture
If youre feeling alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr Torture sells pain
Handcaffed,bounded,chained and blinded
body, soul and mind ignated
every sense is torn and ripped apart
Hes been banned in twenty countries
though he does it for money
he gets pleasure by hearing you scream
Mr. Torture gives pain
with his whips and his chaines
he knows just what you crave Mr. Torture
If youre feelin alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr. Torture sells pain
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Torture
When they torture your mother
plant a tree
When they torture your father
plant a tree
When they torture your brother
and your sister
plant a tree
When they assassinate
your leaders
and lovers
plant a tree
Whey they torture you
too bad
to talk
plant a tree.
When they begin to torture
the trees
and cut down the forest
they have made
start another.
poem by Alice Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Mind! All This Time
Your per-son-ality...
Was not just picked from any litter.
Your dig-ni-ty...
Is of the best I've ever seen.
You are so far from routine,
And it gets so hard to leave...
The matter of affection I feel.
That matter of affection felt.
Your Per,
Son...
Ality!
Was not just picked from any litter.
And your,
Dig...
Ni,
Ty! ?
Is of the best I've ever seen.
Your personality...
Is wha'ts delivered.
From a giver of love and liberty!
Your per-son-ality...
Was not just picked from any litter.
Your dig-ni-ty...
Is of the best I've ever seen.
Your per-son-ality...
Was not just picked from any litter.
Your per-son-ality...
Was selected to give as a gift!
That per-son-ality...
Was not just picked from any litter.
Your per-son-ality...
Is the kind to stay in one's mind!
And you have remained,
In my mind!
All this time!
Because...
The matter of affection I feel.
And,
That matter of affection felt.
And you have remained,
In my mind!
Because...
The matter of affection I feel.
And,
That matter of affection felt.
And you have remained,
In my mind!
All this time.
Because...
The matter of affection I feel.
And,
That matter of affection felt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad Exchange
Quietly thinking to myself
Sharing half our mind instead of none
The shakings just begun
The pleasantries are gone,
This sad exchange pleased neither one of us
So we finally gave up
Meanings tend to give out
The Time was gone to act out
this living torture, living torture
No talking When I want you to Listen
No talking cos it's Living torture, Living torture
Dont know why, dont know why, we cant stand aside
(I don't want your many faces
we don't see right)
If I had known back then
Whatever I know now
I'd think Id have answers but I dont know why
So we finally gave up
The Meanings tend to give out
The Time was gone to act out
But Here I am and Im still living
No talking when I want you to listen
No Talking cos it's Living Torture, Living Torture
No talking when I want you to listen
Don't tell me what Im trying to say to you
Both of us know
What it sounds like in my mind
Now both of us know
What it sounds It Sound like
Both of us know
What it sounds like in my mind
Now both of us know
Now both of us know
No talking when I want you to listen
No Talking cos it's Living Torture, Living Torture
No talking when I want you to listen
Don't tell me what Im trying to say to you
Quietly thinking to myself
This sad exchange pleased neither on of us
[Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics]
song performed by by Finger Eleven
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Military people have a heavy investment in rules against torture, not only because we want to protect our own POWs from reciprocal brutalities… but also because war is so terrible that it desperately requires any limits anyone can agree on, any gesture toward dignity, any mitigation suggesting civilized scruple. There isn’t even persuasive evidence that torture makes its victims tell their secrets, instead of saying whatever we want to hear.
quote by John Leonard
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fragments Picked To Bits
Fragments picked to bits,
Leave bits of fragments picked...
With a wish when witnessed,
Those fragments picked to bits...
Had more potential when left to sit,
Alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5. My Bitten Finger
Much bolder than a lion
As crafty as a fox
That little furry hamster
I took home in a box
In the pet shop looking cuddly
Picked quickly didn’t linger
I should have seen the warning signs
When it bit my middle finger
I picked it for its cuteness
Dark brown with bright red eyes
I pointed out the one I’d picked
Imagine my surprise
It reared up where I pointed
Its whiskers started twitching
Then bit into my finger
For sure it needed stitching
The owner thought it funny
I tried to shake it free
This furry little ball of fluff
Had certainly picked me
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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On Torture We Should Not Keep Our Silence
In many so called Democratic Countries Human Rights laws are being transgressed
And people due to their difference from others are imprisoned and oppressed
And suffer the worst forms of torture should we in silence stand idly by
For a wrong against any individual is a wrong against you and I.
A loss of Human rights to any individual is a loss of rights to all
The huge plague of locusts destroyed the grain crops though their numbers once were small
And like the locusts those who go along with torture their numbers multiply
But on such a matter for me to keep my silence would be to live a lie.
On torture we should not keep our silence 'tis time we made a stand
I've got a lethal weapon here the pen is in my hand
I may not command much power but to my own self I must be true
For if you do not speak out against torture you become a torturer too.
In many so called Democratic Countries Governments to torture turn a blind eye
And people due to torture have even been known to die
And those who keep their silence on such a matter are saying
torture is okay
Though a loss of rights to one individual is a loss of rights to all or to me 'twould seem that way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ol Ben Lucas
(kinky friedman)
Ol ben lucas had a lot of mucus
Comin right out of his nose.
He picked and picked till it made you sick
But back again it grows.
Well, ol ben lucas had a lot of mucus
Comin right out of his nose.
He picked and picked till it made you sick,
But back again it grows.
When its cotton picking time in texas,
Boys, its booger picking time for ben.
Hed raise that finger mean and hostile
Stick it in that waitin nostril,
Here he comes with a green one once again.
All right, pick it, eric!
Ol ben lucas had a lot of mucus
Comin right out of his nose.
He picked and picked till it made you sick,
But back again it grows.
Everybody!
Ol ben lucas had a lot of mucus
Comin right out of his nose,
He picked and picked till it made you sick
But back again it grows.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Torture: A Public Singer
Torture will give a dozen pence or more
To keep a drab from bawling at his door.
The public taste is quite a different thing-
Torture is positively paid to sing.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Wrong Side Of Love
She said that shes got something else on her mind
Im spending my money, but Im wasting time
It looks to me like the end of the line
Well, she plays both sides and shes making me choose
Its heads, she wins, and tails I lose
Each time I call, its another excuse
I thought I was finally doin everything right
Now it looks like Im the one left lonely tonight
I picked the wrong side of love
And I wound up on the losin end
The wrong side of love
Now Im starting all over again
She makes me feel like Im out of control
She comes on hot but she turns ice cold
Her light says stop when Im ready to go
She set me up, now shes puttin me down
Sometimes I feel like a face in the crowd
One day Im in, the next day Im out
I picked the wrong side of love
Right place, wrong time
The wrong side of love
Well honey, point me in the right direction
I picked the wrong side of love
Is there a bad side to love?
I picked the wrong side of love
The wrong side of love
I picked the wrong side of love
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To call something an 'enhanced interrogation technique' doesn't alter the fact that we thought it was torture when the Japanese used it on American prisoners, we thought it was torture when the North Koreans used it, we thought it was torture when the Soviets used it. You know, it's almost the moral equivalent of saying that rape is an enhanced seduction technique.
quote by Ted Koppel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is not to condone torture, which is still prohibited by the Torture Convention and federal criminal law.
When I was a little kid I used to play with guys twice my age, so, I was the last one picked, so if I picked I knew that I had to get the ball to the scorer if I wanted to stay on the court, so that was pretty much my job.
quote by Jason Kidd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do I Look Like A Rose?
Do I...
Look like a rose?
A mixed hybrid,
That pricks when picked...
If not carefully held,
In an anxious hold.
Do I.
Do I...
Look as if my beauty exists,
For a quick lift...
For you to run off with!
Do I...
Look as if,
I have something to give...
With an offering found,
To be irresistible?
Do I.
Do I...
Look as if my beauty exists,
For a quick lift...
For you to run off with!
Do I...
Look like a rose?
A mixed hybrid,
That pricks when picked...
If not carefully held,
In an anxious hold.
To sit and wither to watch...
As we both grow old?
Do I, do I...
Look as If I'm that kind,
Of rose to behold?
I could be.
But if overnight,
You decide not to treat me right...
I can also bite!
With a stinging done,
You will never forget.
With a pricking you will wish,
You had never chose to pick!
With a scent that will not soon leave,
Your swollen nose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just let Go
I knew of torment once
so long ago, was that me back then
suffering in pain, I was forced to do things
I could never remember
I was forced to be someone
outside of my own
I don’t like to say
or remember back then
how it hurt me to even just breath
the agony you feel the pain unreal
how can a child bear witness
to this torment and pain
to be torn into two
like a rag doll of old
the memories are real
they made me a women of today
but to block out the terror
the screams and hands
that lay waste to my soul
its more than I can bare
its more than I can say
how to make you understand
the innocence of a child
taken from them without remorse
without regret and the child not knowing
she was too young to know
of the horrors drawn from her that day
not understanding she would live
she would breath only to live her life
like a zombie instead
but the torture of living
and breathing each day
was something she learned
alone in the dark never really knowing
all she had to do was reach out and touch
loved ones and friends
So where do you say
you know agony and pain
have you lived through a year
of torture and pain
Have you been held so tight
you can’t breathe you can’t move
you move to your left your crushed real tight
you move to your right your crushed tighter still
then a hand covers mouth
stopping you to scream or shout
then hear every day don’t tell or be dead
I’ve walked away from this memory of old
and I've learnt to be strong
and just let it go
poem by Kaila George
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Poetry From An Occupied Land
I press my teeth
I keep my breath stopped
I bite my finger
to win the torture
Thats how I learnt
how to live with torture.
They rape me
They use all of my body holes
for their pleasure.
Now I smile
when they come
I have conquered
my pain.
Do not forget me
I am your sister
your daughter
your mother
your fiance
From an occupied land.
poem by Devil Poet
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You're Not My Son
You are not a bastard
you're still my son,
though you're not my son
My blood don't run
through your vein.
but my words and love does.
I saw you alone
in a quiet path,
you were there, lonely.
I looked around saw no one,
i picked you up and you smiled.
I held you close to my heart
and you did not cry.
brought you in my lonely home
and you made it whole
filling my emptiness with happiness.
My wife doubted your existent
i try to explain but she left
saying am unfaithful.
I took you away from my old world
you became my world
as i watched you grow up.
i gave you wings
but you choose to walk with me.
When you asked me about your mother
i lied.
When you ask me about my family,
i lied.
I loved you, that's no lie.
I am no longer in or of these world.
in between My WILL
i have left these words.
for i was too afraid of
how you will feel or
what you might do.
Don't cry now because
when i picked you up
you didn't cry.
though you're not my son.
You're my son.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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The Haunting Dream
It was a dream
This dream was like none other
Felt so real
To this day those children scream in pain
I feel myself going insane
All those children screaming, dieing
Dropped to my knees nearly crying
All so young, they deserved to live
If only
If only I had more to give
I wanted to help, I tried, I really tried
The more I helped, even more had died
Torture
I've never seen torture devices like these before so dark, so brutal
The blood
All the young children drained of blood
I awaken
Ears are bleeding, eyes can't tell whats real and whats fake
This truelly was
The haunting dream.
poem by Kevin Fisher
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Where No Bells Toll
There is a wood
where we played as children
and bluebells grow
When you came home
after seeing the rape of Zimbabwe
we picked bluebells
When you came home
from the killing fields of Iraq
we picked bluebells
When you came home
from the poppy fields of Afghanistan
we picked bluebells
When you came home
telling of monks beaten in Tibet
we picked bluebells
When you came home
from the line of fire on the Gaza Strip
it was in a coffin
There is a wood
where history plays tricks on us
and bluebells grow
poem by Roger Taber
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