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Changing Of The Guard
It’s hard
For a young upstart to compete with the old guard
For the old guard guards the old ways of doing business
With old business partners who also make it hard
For the young upstart
For they guard the old ways of guarding the business
From the brash and rash and flash of upstarts
But the old guard was also young at some age
Back when they fought the old guards of their days
And they too were young upstarts looking for change
Things for them seemed just as hard
And they placed each bet on each losing card
But before they knew it they were playing the old games
With the young upstarts who were looking for change
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Guardian Angel
Be my guard just for tonight, that is all Im asking for
Take me under your wing, I cant make it anymore
I am so full of fear, may you read a book to me
And when the shadows grow wont you stay with me
Will you be my guard tonight. that is all Im asking for
Will you be my guard tonight, that is all I need to know
Be my guard beside my bed, that is all I need to know
Will you please hold my hand, dont you ever let it go
All the wonders of the world for a little second more
I cant speak but cant you see, its your touch Im crying for
Will you be my guard tonight. that is all Im asking for
Will you be my guard tonight, that is all I need to know
Be my guard just until dawn, when I can hear the birds again
Im as helpless as can be, will you guard my little flame
If we never meet again, you shall always keep in mind
That you were my guard tonight, that you were my guard tonight
Will you be my guard tonight. . .
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was dripping and, you know, and there was a whole line of cameras and microphones. I felt like - you remember the honor guards, only it was a dishonor guard.
quote by Jim Bakker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I had a heartbreaking experience when I was 9. I always wanted to be a guard. The most wonderful girl in the world was a guard. When I got polio and then went back to school, they made me a guard. A teacher took away my guard button.
quote by Francis Ford Coppola
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be assured, fellow citizens, that in a democracy it is the laws that guard the person of the citizen and the constitution of the state, whereas the despot and the oligarch find their protection in suspicion and in armed guards.
devil In Heaven
The devil is weak,
The devil is ill,
The devil is dying.
The clergy comes around,
The clergy offers prayers,
The clergy offers him the keys to heaven.
The devil collects the key,
The devil dies and soon is at the gate of heaven,
The devil unlocks the gate and now he’s in heaven.
The angels on guard knew him as a devil, but
The angels on guard made no attempt to stop him,
The angels on guard even said 'welcome'.
The devil is in heaven, ‘coz
The clergy gave him the key,
The clergy asked us to let him,
The clergy asked God to let him,
The key made the guards to let him,
Now the devil is in heaven,
And there’s nothing even the Devil can do about it.
poem by David Oluwatobi Akinola
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A good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read.
Terry Pratchett in Guards! Guards!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If anyone has it rough at Guantanamo, it is the guards. They are constantly harassed and threatened by some of these terrorists. Prisoners tell guards, we know where your families are. We know where your wife is, your children, and we are going to kill them.
quote by Robin Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guard And Keep It
Guard and keepn it,
Guard and love it,
Guard and use it;
For, the taste of it will surely heal you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Guards! Seize Him!
Guards cease to wander where the hounds stay,
Yonder is peace for the entering marvels that may.
Guards cause innocence to object on evil,
Then seize that man or woman or child who is able!
Inside the door, inside the prison and cells,
Lies a more hopeful gate of magic and bells.
Beyond the common goal is another objective
That worries murder spraying blood - addictive.
Please lay off guards, for the murder to be done,
Munching morsels shunning us, and now abandon!
poem by Naveed Akram
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There Are Black
There are black guards slamming cell gates
on black men,
And brown guards saying hello to brown men
with numbers on their backs,
And white guards laughing with white cons,
and red guards, few, say nothing
to red inmates as they walk by to chow and cells.
There you have it, the little antpile . . .
convicts marching in straight lines, guards flying
on badged wings, permits to sting, to glut themselves
at the cost of secluding themselves from their people . .
Turning off their minds like watertaps
wrapped in gunnysacks that insulate the pipes
carrying the pale weak water to their hearts.
It gets bad when you see these same guards
carrying buckets of blood out of cells,
see them puking at the smell, the people,
their own people slashing their wrists,
hanging themselves with belts from light outlets;
it gets bad to see them clean up the mess,
carry the blue cold body out under sheets,
and then retake their places in guard cages,
watching their people maul and mangle themselves,
And over this blood-rutted land,
the sun shines, the guards talk of horses and guns,
go to the store and buy new boots,
and the longer they work here the more powerful they become,
taking on the presence of some ancient mummy,
down in the dungeons of prison, a mummy
that will not listen, but has a strange power
in this dark world, to be so utterly disgusting in ignorance,
and yet so proudly command so many men. . . .
And the convicts themselves, at the mummy’s
feet, blood-splattered leather, at this one’s feet,
they become cobras sucking life out of their brothers,
they fight for rings and money and drugs,
in this pit of pain their teeth bare fangs,
to fight for what morsels they can. . . .
And the other convicts, guilty
of nothing but their born color, guilty of being innocent,
they slowly turn to dust in the nightly winds here,
flying in the wind back to their farms and cities.
From the gash in their hearts, sand flies up spraying
over houses and through trees,
look at the sand blow over this deserted place,
you are looking at them.
poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
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Man guards himself
Man guards himself from animals.
Man made animals his servants.
Man guards himself from other men
By division of race, region and religion.
02.01.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Song of the Borderguard
The man with his lion under the shed of wars
sheds his belief as if he shed tears.
The sound of words waits -
a barbarian host at the borderline of sense.
The enamord guards desert their posts
harkening to the lion-smell of a poem
that rings in their ears.
-Dreams, a certain guard said
were never designd so
to re-arrange an empire.
Along about six o'clock I take out my guitar
and sing to a lion
who sleeps like a line of poetry
in the shed of wars.
The man shedding his belief
knows that the lion is not asleep,
does not dream, is never asleep,
is a wide-awake poem
waiting like a lover for the disrobing of the guard;
the beautil boundaries of the empire
naked, rapt round in the smell of a lion.
(The barbarians have passt over the significant phrase)
-When I was asleep,
a certain guard says,
a man shed his clothes as if he shed tears
and appeard as a lonely lion
waiting for a song under the shed-roof of wars.
I sang the song that he waited to hear,
I, the Prize-Winner, the Poet Acclaimd.
Dear, Dear, Dear, Dear, I sang,
believe, believe, believe, believe.
The shed of wars is splendid as the sky,
houses our waiting like a pure song
housing in its words the lion-smell
of the beloved disrobed.
I sang: believe, believe, believe.
I the guard because of my guitar
belive. I am the certain guard,
certain of the Beloved, certain of the lion,
certain of the Empire. I with my guitar.
Dear, Dear, Dear, Dear, I sing.
I, the Prize-Winner, the Poet on Guard.
The borderlines of sense in the morning light
are naked as a line of poetry in a war.
poem by Robert Duncan
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To Roumania
Rifles of the Rear Guard,
Rattling through the rain,
Falling back and falling back
To make a stand again –
Rifles of the Rear Guard,
Shall you die in vain?
Rifles of the Rear Guard.
In the cold and wet;
Rifles of the Rear Guard,
We’re coming – do not fret!
The rifles of the Rear Guard
Shall be the Vanguard yet.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Then, all of a sudden, here I am in the Press Room in the White House and walking in with the guards, who handed me three little pieces of paper asking me to send pictures to the guards at the White House.
quote by Majel Barrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Consists
Love consists in this:
That two solitudes,
come together
and discover
they cannot be
without each other.
Two solitudes
that protect and guard
each other always.
Two solitudes
that touch each other
in ways they never
ever touched before.
Unrequited love
consists in this:
That two solitudes
come together
and discover
that only one
cannot ever be
without the other.
Only one protects
and guards the other.
Only one touches
as if never touched.
So the question
that haunts my nights
and torments my days:
Why did she not love
the way I loved her
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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Dragon Lake
Bao Peng sat back and lit his pipe,
The hob was cold, the ash quite dead,
He drew a tiny firelight
That lit the scar high on his head.
While Zhang was hushed, he gathered round
Each brother, cousin; neighbours too,
‘Bao Peng will not begin his tale
Until your silence asks him to! ’
‘In years gone by, ’ Bao Peng began,
‘When revolution ruled this land,
Our village lived at peace back then,
We helped each other, as we can!
We grew rice in the paddy fields
Kept pigs and horses, sheep and game,
And lived, though poor, contentedly
Until the Helmsman’s Red Guards came.’
‘We drew our water from the lake
And shared in everything we grew,
The Buddhists had a temple there
A thousand years, for all we knew.
They held our manuscripts and deeds,
Cared for our souls, and history,
These holy men did no-one harm
But lived an ageless mystery!
The Red Guards came, in gangs and droves,
Just schoolkids really, like some mob,
With filthy mouths they screamed at us,
Then beat our women, killed our dogs.
They made us swear to love their Mao,
To hate the ‘Olds’ - old buildings, books,
We didn’t stand a chance -’ Peng stopped…
And felt the scar from Red Guard hooks!
‘They killed my wife, Mei Fang, ’ he said,
‘They stoned her up on Bullock Hill, ’
The tears streamed freely down his cheeks
And we could see, he loved her still!
‘And then they went down to the lake
To burn the temple, burn the books,
The monks were slaughtered, beaten down
With clubs and knives, with swords and hooks! ’
‘The flames came through the Temple roof,
The pages of the books were charred,
We stood well back, as well we knew
What they’d not know - the Beijing Guard!
A form stirred deep within the lake,
The waters moved, and out there slid
The monstrous shape of fang and claw,
The greatest ‘Old’ that ever lived! ’
‘The screams were heard for hours that night,
The ghastly shrieks of those devoured,
The ones who raised their clubs to me,
Dragged in the water, overpowered!
The Red Guards never came our way
Again, we held a village wake…
They should have asked, before they burned
Just why we called it - Dragon Lake! ’
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Buckingham Palace
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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