Just Another Rant
There are things which we all know
but pretend we don’t
as we watch them with amusement wriggling publicly
out of their public bonds..
1) You can always buy your way
to ‘honours’ – but not, ha, to ‘honour’:
not with a cheque by return of post, of course;
just by more subtle ‘charity’ of the sort
which inevitably involves
large sums of money gratefully received
by the genuinely honourable. But of course
you'll be the only one who confuses
honours with honour.
2) The buck – with honourable exceptions –
never ‘stops here’ – it stops
at the guy one below ‘here’:
you’re in charge – so, you don ‘t say
‘Go kill Thomas á Becket’ etc.. you say
‘Who will rid me of this turbulent priest? ’ into the air,
kinda rhetorical question.. and, surprise,
there’s a scrum of posse at the gun cabinet..
3) There are certain countries and no I won’t
where bribes – often to those who don’t need them –
are like thank-you letters – you don’t have to,
but everyone expects it… and don’t be surprised
if you’re off their seasonal greetings card list next year..
just one suggestion: that if blackmailed trade-wise
by a foreign country to break your own code of honour
and you stand up and say ‘It would not be
in Britain’s interest in terms of
commercial and diplomatic good relations
and employment in skilled industry
to pursue this matter through the courts’
you should have your British passport and nationality
taken away; after all, you’ve already forfeited it
in the court of honour..
OK that feels better. How was it for you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Does God Hold Your Country In Honour?
God does not honour countries?
God does not honour nations?
God honours integrity of nations.
God honours men women of integrity.
When the integrity of a nation fails.
The nation in question fails to retain...
the patronage support good will of God.
When you ban God from all schools
all public buildings all public office do
you believe you retain God's good will?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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M: II: I Cannot Pay your Honour
I have sought to triumph over nothing,
have tri-ed,
have failed to -umph.
Honour is paid
By accepting honour.
By accepting honour,
I would honour trying,
would honour lack of -umph.
I cannot pay your honour.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me
What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?—
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner I’ll live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.
Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder,
But country and flag, the flag I am under—
There is the shilling that finds me willing
To follow a banner and fight for honour.
CH. We follow her banner, we fight for her honour.
Call me England’s fame’s fond lover,
Her fame to keep, her fame to recover.
Spend me or end me what God shall send me,
But under her banner I live for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we march for her honour.
Where is the field I must play the man on?
O welcome there their steel or cannon.
Immortal beauty is death with duty,
If under her banner I fall for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we fall for her honour.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Energy
Matter
It wants to play
Be a mother of singing
Waiting for the return of words
Into her womb
Sparkles between a living and dead self
And an anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Gravity
It wants to play
Increase decrease inside out
Strongholds
And an anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Time
It wants to play
Be a father of changes
It waits for nothing
But its own end
And its anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Space
It wants to play
Be a brother to spacious
Waiting in spasm of the dead ends
For a playful vast
And its anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Energy
It wants to play
Over the dimensions
Be a soul's sister
Across the humans
Free
To kill its anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its awareness
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Stop These Honour Killings
those who kill in the name of honour
what honour are they talking about?
who are you to take so precious a life
who are you to bring justice about
love conquers all so we are told
but here love has bought only death and hate
redeem your twisted sense of justice
take guard before its just too late
to kill to maim, is not humane
to play God is more insane
oh twisted sense of justice, stop
stop causing so much shock and pain
who are you to kill in the name of honour
what honour are u talking about
leave justice to the one above
forget this violence, just cast it out,
live and let live is what should be
look within and always learn to see
you are not perfect, far from it,
cast out cruelty and tyranny
youre full of lies, ego, false pride,
you think others will look up to you
look within my friend and see yourself
youre not a hero, but the hated few
honour is sacred, burning bright
belongs to men that stand up and fight
men who value life for all
men of honour stand out tall
stop these killings once for all
you think youre high but you'll take a fall
play not the judge, just live your own
before bad karma seeds be sown
poem by Arti Chopra
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To Succeed With Honour
the will to honour win
to succeed with honour
to sacrifice for honour
is worth in excess
of 24 carat gold
an attitude not to be sold
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Honour Life
honour life
honour people loved
while they are here
rather than mourn
when they are gone
when it is too late
show a little sincere appreciation
for family friends life loved
saving you from empty alienation
appreciate gift love time
subtle small gifts divine
memories shine through time
to love appreciate fully now
seems a far better rational response
than to regret at fatal final hour
honour life
honour life
while it is here
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Say, What Is Honour?--‘Tis The Finest Sense
SAY, what is Honour?--'Tis the finest sense
Of 'justice' which the human mind can frame,
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,
And guard the way of life from all offence
Suffered or done. When lawless violence
Invades a Realm, so pressed that in the scale
Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail,
Honour is hopeful elevation,--whence
Glory, and triumph. Yet with politic skill
Endangered States may yield to terms unjust;
Stoop their proud heads, but not unto the dust--
A Foe's most favourite purpose to fulfil:
Happy occasions oft by self-mistrust
Are forfeited; but infamy doth kill.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Then and Now
When battles were fought
With a chivalrous sense of should and ought,
In spirit men said,
"End we quick or dead,
Honour is some reward!
Let us fight fair -- for our own best or worst;
So, Gentlemen of the Guard,
Fire first!"
In the open they stood,
Man to man in his knightlihood:
They would not deign
To profit by a stain
On the honourable rules,
Knowing that practise perfidy no man durst
Who in the heroic schools
Was nurst.
But now, behold, what
Is war with those where honour is not!
Rama laments
Its dead innocents;
Herod howls: "Sly slaughter
Rules now! Let us, by modes once called accurst,
Overhead, under water,
Stab first."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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0015 'Infectious holiness'..
Read the newspapers
from the back to the front, instead
and joy can catch you unawares
obituaries: all too often you just wish
you could have known them when
they were alive and glorious..
maybe there's a place for a special
service of celebration, memorial, honour
for all those who read their obituary
and wished they'd known them..so
get together in their honour in the hope
that something happens..
here's Murray Rogers, died at 89,
went from Britain to India to Jerusalem
to Hong Kong to the Mohawks of Ontario
to Oxford... and described as
'a priest of infectious holiness'..
just imagine - you met him by accident
one fine day, and next thing you know,
you've caught - well, they're waiting to see
whether it's a mild case, give it time,
maybe severe or even, terminal..
a bit like around this time of year,
popping into a pub in Bethlehem
or that place just outside the Temple
which is the equivalent of Speakers' Corner
or doing a bit of fishing just off the shore
of Galilee... these public places
are a hotbed of infection at this time of year
infectious holiness
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Anzac Day
Patriotic men and women from sixty down to sixteen
Rode proudly on their horses in the famed Anzac green
Followed by the women of the Red Cross in their renowned white and red
On this day every April they honour the war dead.
Up to the war memorial where a large crowd stand around
And at the front of the congregation old 'Diggers' to be found
Old veterans of World war 2 they show their years in gray
Their war medals pinned to their lapels their bravery on display.
A lone bugler played the last post to honour the war dead
And an old man who was standing near i saw him bow his head
And tears were trickling down his face his thoughts were far away
Some noble men who were his friends in foreign Country lay.
We are gathered here this morning the ageing speaker said
To commemorate true heroes our great and brave war dead
They made the ultimate sacrifice and at a young age they did die
And we have them in part to thank for the freedom we enjoy
For our soldiers who died in foreign wars for their souls let us pray
It's only to remember them that we have Anzac day
Their bones may lay in foreign fields but in history they survive
And the spirit of the Anzac is still very much alive.
He thanked the old war veterans who marched in the parade
How can we thank you enough for the sacrifice you've made
You risked your lives in cause of peace 'we salute you today'
You noble men who won the war in Country far away.
He thanked the red cross women the finest in the Land
And the bugler who played 'The Last Post' and the six piece marching band
And the horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And he asked the band to finish up by playing 'God save the Queen'.
And the band played 'God save the Queen' but not 'Advance Australia Fair'
And i who doesn't believe in war could only feel aware
That in Britain they don't play the Australian anthem when they honour their war dead
Was it for Britain or Australia that young Aussie blood was shed? .
The horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And the bugler played the last post and the band played 'God Save The Queen'.
And a war veteran spoke of Aussie war dead their bones in Europe lay
At least they are remembered still on every Anzac Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Honour a good man that he may honour you, and a bad man that he may not dishonour you.
Sonnet 25: Let those who are in favour with their stars
Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
Unlooked for joy in that I honour most.
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread,
But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies burièd,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famousèd for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the book of honour razèd quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.
Then happy I that love and am beloved
Where I may not remove nor be removed.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Swift Kill Biting Mosquitoes
goldfish are a sacred species
cats are a sacred species
all life is a sacred species
somewhere to their devotees...
already a few honour all species
already a few honour all life
Buddhists honour all life sacred
most swift kill biting mosquitoes...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Your love is wicked (parody)
(with apology to Koos A. Kombuis)
When you are crying
I want to strive
to be in your shadow
to feel the pain in everything,
every morning when I rise
I stumble over my bed
and chest of drawers
and when I have nausea from drinking
then I only want to eat
when you are with me,
at times I want to taste you
like wild berries
and even in my dark moods
I want to fall
deep into you
I want to make you stop
when you whisper
about the words
of evil sailors
and I want to go along
when you walk the streets
as a part of your neuroses
your favour is almost honourable
and totally unrestrained
your honour is without guilt
blinded by sin,
blinded without comfort,
blinded from love
and totally immoral
yesterday just like you
I went astray
in your urges
for a long time
with a lot of skeletons
without any phobias
or songs
it teems with LSD
and you tell
without asking
and the message that I am getting,
is that you are
a sweet mother in Africa
I curse
at every sign
of another guy
that fits over you,
I curse
just now
when I was shaking
your favour is almost honourable
and totally unrestrained
your honour is without guilt
blinded by sin,
blinded without comfort,
blinded from love
and totally immoral
It’s a sweet-berry daybreak
that is happening while we are together
its cry out upon cry out
without any point in mind
and why the hell
are you going home
while immorality eats you up?
I want to show you pain
deep in my heart
but you have got to wait
and nobody else
may hold onto you,
the old guy is upon you
with your applause
but he’s not holding
unto your buttocks
I want to make you stop
when you whisper
about the words
of evil sailors
and I want to go along
when you walk the streets
as a part of your neuroses
your favour is almost honourable
and totally unrestrained
your honour is without guilt
blinded by sin,
blinded without comfort,
blinded from love
and totally immoral.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In Honour Of You
In honour of you I'll live my life
To the very best of my ability
I'll recall and apply every wise counsel you ever offered
Savour every word you said trying to raise whatever
Cherish your every attempt to make me feel
In honour of you I'll face the pain gladly
I'll be thankful for the occasion to gain insight
I'll do my utmost to meet with equanimity
Every asshole angel put on my path
Welcoming each challenge as a great opportunity to grow
In honour of you - who has shown me being
Who's own pain is never ever spoken
Who's long suffering is celebrated as a great gift
Who's love and teaching nourishes so, so many
Many and I see life with far, far clearer eyes
In honour of you, who's feet I humbly touch
I shall greet each day with limitless joy
Capture every sparkling moment in my heart's nest
Move forward into new projects, new beginnings
Holding ever and always the nearness of your gracious presence
In honour of you I'll continue traveling
Exploring other cultures, other peoples, other points of view
I'll become fluent in la lingua italiana, visit the Aeolian islands
Find some tenderness for India; visit an ashram; practice Yoga
Everything and anything - all in honour and appreciation of you
poem by Winston T. Gylles
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The king is extraordinary.
Honour is made for human functions.
A monarch is not extraordinary;
The ordinary people make him so.
Unless he is made extraordinary
He could not rule the ordinary ones.
The extraordinary must respect
The demand of the honour bestowed
On him by the ordinary people,
And must act to be extraordinary.
Masters must honour the headmaster,
Who must respect the demand of honour
Expected of him by other masters,
Failing which he will lose his status.
26.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It is forbidden to decry other sects; the true believer gives honour to whatever in them is worthy of honour.
It is forbidden to decry other sects the true believer gives honour to whatever in them is worthy of honour.
A Poem for November 28,2007
At rest, in peace, and happily,
in silence, in stillness, and joyfully,
honour yourself. Be yourself.
When you honour yourself
you honour the whole created world.
Live just this day in your glorious self.
Remember it for the rest of your life
as the day the world rested in itself,
the day we were all at rest in peace,
the day the world was a happy place
and you were glad to be that peace;
the day we were all ourself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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