0328 Holy Shit
jeez I thought here’s
this lady I have the greatest
respect for and she
comes out with this holy crap
and holy shit stuff
so yesterday I was
walking through the
winter-wet tufted grass
of the field they keep
the cows in this year
avoiding the cowpatties
the outside tap for
gumboots is frozen
and stopped and looked at one
fresh and steaming
the way you do
and the cow down the field
looked at me with that
not very enquiring look
they have but today
it came across as So?
and I remembered
the milk that morning which
had that layer of extra
spring cream
and the roast beef
smell when the kitchen
door’s open on a
spring day and it all
linked up later
as I got home and sat
contemplating
the bathroom fittings
as one does and
thought
holy shit yeah
the lady’s right
(for Mary and PoHo)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Holy City
Holy City
We arrived here yesterday
Holy city
We sat foot here yesterday
Holy city
We felt in love with you already
Holy city
Is the city where our God was born
Holy city
Here we saw where God died in the cross with Pontius pilate
And risen from his death
Holy City
Today we end up in the Sea of Galilee
It is so good to breathe the fresh air from the Sea of Galilee
This sea is amazing
Holy city
This is a journey we will never forget in our lives
Holy city
Has been an interesting point in our lives
Holy city
Was a discovery of our roots
poem by Aldo Kraas
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0329 Holy Shit (2)
everything in Creation
is as holy as its Creator
how could it be otherwise?
the cow
has been the centre
of the Vedic culture
these last few thousand years
fed with love
and yielding milk and calves
and cowpatties
which when dried
provide the fuel which
the saints say is the best
for use as the domestic fire
of food it is said
the first part supports the body
and the second part the soul
while the third part falls
to support the earth
Wordsworth found immortality
amid the daffodils
but see here in the next field –
the cows are grazing as peacefully
as poets
poets who see the world
in awe and wonder
as the supreme machine
whose every part
is wholly of the whole
mind how you tread
this ground is holy
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Shitty Poem
Some things makes us wise and Some things makes us bad
Sometimes you just wish, you should have listened to your dad
Sometimes you wonder of the things that you have with you
sometimes you just throw them, and bring yourself all new
Sometimes struck in chaos, when your thought seems to shutdown
Thinking of some shit, sometimes black sometimes brown
Why this fkuk has to happen always with me
Like some tire I roll, where dogs come and they pee
Why is that when I sit down to write some serious stuff
I know It aint that easy but it aint that tough
I have tried it in the morning and I have tried it in the night
But why there has to be some shit in whatever I write
Cant I find some good words, some words you might like
To find them I go to some fine place with my driver and my bike
Many songs I have heard and many songs I have sung
But when I sit and write, I see only cow dung
On a fresh morning, looking for something that could inspire
I end up seeing some fresh shit, some fresh shit on some fire
poem by Kanav Justa
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Holy, Holy, Holy
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.
Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy Holy
Listen lady, let me lie low, lie low with you
To be lie-high-high-high-high-high, my! oh my!
Slowly, we get too good and too holy
Helping one another, just a righteous brother
Night time, get me back in the night time
I dont want to be angel, just a little bit evil
I feel the devil in me
Holy, holy
Hold on to anyone, hold on to anyone
But just let me be
Holy, holy
Hold on to anyone, hold on to anyone
Let go of me
Listen lady, let me lie low, lie low with you
To be a lie-high-high-high-high-high, my! oh my!
Holy, holy
Hold on to anyone, hold on to anyone
But just let me be
Holy, holy
Hold on to anyone, hold on to anyone
Let go of me
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Day
When she walked on down the street
She was like a child staring at her feet
But when she passed the bar
And she heard the music play
She had to go in and sing
It had to be that way
She had to go in and sing
It had to be that way
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
After the applause had died down
And the people drifted away
She climbed down off the bar
And went out the door
To the hotel
That she called home
It had greenish walls
A bathroom in the hall
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
And I said no, no, no
Oh, lady day
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gabriel's Message
The angel Gabriel from heaven came
His wings as drifted snow
His eyes as flame
From God all hail the angel said to Mary
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria
"Fear not for you shall bear a holy child
By him to God be reconciled
His name shall be Emmanuel
The long-foretold"
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria
Then gentle Mary humbly bowed her head
"To me be as it pleaseth God" she said
"My soul shall praise and magnify his Holy name"
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria
And so she said "How happy I shall be
All generations will remember me
For God has kept his promises to Israel"
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria
Of her Emmanuel the Christ was born
On Bethlehem upon that Christmas morn
And Christian folk throughout the world will ever say
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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and it was Her Summer
…And It Was Her Summer
“Go back to the children’s home, she said I have no work and
can’t afford to keep you” Late June afternoon she sat on a bench
with a man I didn’t know. The man smiled I didn’t like him, but
took the coins he gave me to buy an ice –cream for; I was still
hanging about so mother got up and slapped me across the face.
”Get lost you stupid boy! ” My face was burning I threw the coins
into the lake and ran away. When I stopped running it was night
and I could see sheep in a field, I was tired and cold, thought of
seeking shelter in a little wooden church, but it smelt of fear and
I thought of ghosts, so I walked on till I came to a workman’s hut
near the road, it was easy to get in; here the smell was of coffee,
and kind men in overalls, perhaps one of them were my father?
It was morning and warm sunlight when they came, they were not
angry, but gave me milk and bread and showed me the quickest
way to get home. The sky that day was enormous and from a hill
I looked down to the town, I could see the school building it must
have been early, no children in the yard; but I just sat there and
could not understand why my mother didn’t want to se me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Come Holy Spirit
He is walking on the surface of the earth.
Searching for souls for Messiah.
He is the Holy Spirit.
He wants to help
but He has to be invited.
Say come Holy Spirit.
The stakes are high.
Your eternal life
depends on this decision.
Welcome Him today.
Don't delay,
for tomorrow is not promised.
This is the day of salvation.
Say come Holy Spirit.
He is walking on the surface
of the earth with a gift for you.
Take it!
Say come Holy Spirit,
today,
today,
today.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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You Are What You Drink
The mare had a foal, but it still had to work plowing
a meager field. The foal, prancing about on thin legs
when we stopped for a rest it quickly drank from its
mother´s udder and there was pastoral harmony.
I thought about this when reading about a six year
old boy in India who drank milk from a female dog
that treated the child as one of her own. Of course
this had little to do with rural accord, but stark need.
I once suckled milk off a ewe, sweet milk I thought,
but grew up fearful of people and shy of aspiration;
be unseen in the world´s field of humility and graze
in peace. Hope the dog- boy will grow up with big
fangs unafraid growl at people who try to dominate
him and only respect what his inner voice tells him.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Holy Is The Lord
Holy is your name, in all the earth I worship you
Holy is your name, in all the earth I come to you
Holy is your name, in all the earth I sing to you
Holy, Holy, Holy is your name
Holy are you Lord, I come before your throne and bow
Holy are you Lord, I come into your presence now
Holy are you Lord I listen to the angels sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord
Holy are you Lord, my heart it leaps within my chest
Holy are you Lord, Its in your arms I find my rest
Holy are you Lord, the saints around the world they sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord
Now listen to the saints, they sing Holy are you Lord
Now listen to them cry to you, Holy are you Lord
There is a cry around the world, they lift their voice and sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord
I come before your throne to sing, Holy is your name
I come before your throne to sing, I'll never be the same
Pour our out your fire of love on me, this is what I sing
Holy, Holy, to the risen King
poem by Frank McEleny
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Dairy Ode
Our muse it doth refuse to sing
Of cheese made early in the spring,
When cows give milk from spring fodder
You cannot make a good cheddar.
The quality is often vile
Of cheese that is made in April,
Therefore we think for that reason
You should make later in the season.
Cheese making you should delay
Until about the first of May.
Then cows do feed on grassy field
And rich milk they abundant yield.
Ontario cannot compete
With the Northwest in raising wheat,
For cheaper there they it can grow
So price in future may be low.
Though this a hardship it may seem,
Rejoice that you have got the cream,
In this land of milk and honey,
Where dairy farmers do make money.
Utensils must be clean and sweet,
So cheese with first class can compete,
And daily polish up milk pans,
Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
And it is important matter
To allow no stagnant water,
But water from pure well or stream
The cow must drink to give pure cream.
Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair
With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
They thrive on our Canadian feed
And are for milking splendid breed.
Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
Then there doth arise the query
How to utilize it in the dairy.
The milk it floats in great spring flood
Though it is not so rich and good,
Let us be thankful for this stream
Of milk and also curds and cream.
All dairymen their highest aims
Should be to make the vale of Thames,
Where milk doth so abundant flow,
Dairyland of Ontario.
poem by James McIntyre
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Holiday
Well she's all you'd ever want,
She's the kind they'd like to flaunt and take to dinner.
Well she always knows her place.
She's got style, she's got grace, She's a winner.
She's a Lady. Whoa whoa whoa, She's a Lady.
Talkin' about that little lady, and the lady is mine.
Well she's never in the way
Something always nice to say, Oh what a blessing.
I can leave her on her own
Knowing she's okay alone, and there's no messing.
She's a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She's a lady.
Talkin' about that little lady, and the lady is mine.
Well she never asks for very much and I don't refuse her.
Always treat her with respect, I never would abuse her.
What she's got is hard to find, and I don't want to lose her
Help me build a mansion from my little pile of clay. Hey, hey, hey.
Well she knows what I'm about,
She can take what I dish out, and that's not easy,
Well she knows me through and through,
She knows just what to do, and how to please me.
She's a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She's a lady.
Talkin' about that little lady and the lady is mine.
Yeah yeah yeah She's a Lady
Listen to me baby, She's a Lady
Whoa whoa whoa, She's a Lady
And the Lady is mine
Yeah yeah yeah She's a Lady
Talkin about this little lady
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
Whoa and the lady is mine
Yeah yeah She's a Lady
And the Lady is mine.
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Yesterday
(kinky friedman)
If I made a wish for every sacred star
Falling just outside of heavens window,
If I had the songs from davids old guitar
And the dreams Ive left behind me on my pillow
And if I gave them all to you,
If I took the fall for you
Could you make it spring ?
Lady yesterday,
You smiled just like a lover and a friend.
Lady yesterday,
You danced like it was yesterday again.
They say that loves a paper boat upon the sea,
They say that love is a reflection on the river.
They say that loves a thing thats never meant to be,
They say that loves a thing thats meant to be forever.
And if I gave it all to you,
If I took the fall for you,
Could you make it spring ?
Lady yesterday,
You smiled just like a lover and a friend.
Lady yesterday,
You danced like it was yesterday again.
Hmm, hmm, hmm ...
Hmm, hmm, hmm ...
Hmm, hmm, hmm ...
Hmm, hmm, hmm ...
And if I gave it all to you,
If I took the fall for you,
Could you make it spring ?
Lady yesterday,
You smiled just like a lover and a friend,
Lady yesterday,
You danced like it was yesterday again.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Lady
Winter lady, where you going
With your hair all soft and loose like snowin?
Winter girl, december child, dont run away.
Winter lady, walking sadly, does your lover
Treat you badly? do you dream or wish on stars
To hear him say, oh, winter lady,
I wont hurt you, I wont cheat you,
I wont desert you, winter lady. you need lovin,
I need lovin, too. I need lovin you.
Staring out your winter window
At a silver sky you know youve been to
In a kiss upon a day before a spring.
Winter lady, cry those crystal tears.
He wont know what hes missed
Till loves too late; youve changed your mind,
And its my turn to sing, oh,
Winter lady, I wont hurt you, I wont cheat you,
I wont desert you, winter lady. you need lovin,
I need lovin, too. I need lovin you
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mouse’s Tale
I was forced from my accommodation
and went to live in a field of grass.
I dug a tiny hole in the soil
and in it I began to relax.
Later, I dug the hole much deeper,
so as to escape the winter cold.
The snow and rain passed over
and spring began to unfold.
The green grass turned to barley
and I really enjoyed living here.
My home was ploughed up yesterday,
that’s twice in less than a year.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Holy Joe
(yeah)
I...
I'm a humble guy
No, really i try
You know it's hard sometimes
You...
Yeah, you're messed up too
My brother's gonna get through
Working my way to get to you
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Here it comes
Here it comes
Holy joe
Please...
Don't make me say please
Champagne and ice cream
It's not what i want, it's what i need
Devotion
And a little appreciation
Little heavy rotation
Looks good on me
(having the best time of anybody's life)
(closer than ever to everybody's wife)
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Here it comes
Here it comes
Holy joe
(having the best time of anybody's life)
(closer than ever to everybody's wife)
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on
Be good to me
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Be good to me
Here it comes
Here it comes
Holy joe
Here it comes
Here it comes
Holy joe
Here it comes
Here it comes
Holy joe
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Cousin broke my heart
i thought i looked up 2 you
i thought i called you my cuz
that i'll never forget
how wrong was i
i thought you were great
i thought you were my older cuz
sumone and the only person
i could look up 2
then you go a pull ur shit
i cant get over how wrong i was
you not a person i can look up 2
cuz a person i could look up 2
would talk to me when i call
and no make up excuses 2 not talk 2 me
so all i have 2 say is
icant believe i ever looked up 2 you
poem by Heather Noble
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The Forsaken
Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear me! I am very weary. I have come
from a village miles away, all day I have been coming, and I ache for such
far roaming. I cannot walk as light as I used, and my thoughts grow confused.
I am heavier than I was. Mary Mother, you know the cause!
Beautiful Holy Lady, take my shame away from me! Let this fear
be only seeming, let it be that I am dreaming. For months I have hoped
it was so, now I am afraid I know. Lady, why should this be shame,
just because I haven't got his name. He loved me, yes, Lady, he did,
and he couldn't keep it hid. We meant to marry. Why did he die?
That day when they told me he had gone down in the avalanche, and could not
be found until the snow melted in Spring, I did nothing. I could not cry.
Why should he die? Why should he die and his child live? His little child
alive in me, for my comfort. No, Good God, for my misery! I cannot face
the shame, to be a mother, and not married, and the poor child to be reviled
for having no father. Merciful Mother, Holy Virgin, take away this sin I did.
Let the baby not be. Only take the stigma off of me!
I have told no one but you, Holy Mary. My mother would call me 'whore',
and spit upon me; the priest would have me repent, and have
the rest of my life spent in a convent. I am no whore, no bad woman,
he loved me, and we were to be married. I carried him always in my heart,
what did it matter if I gave him the least part of me too? You were a virgin,
Holy Mother, but you had a son, you know there are times when a woman
must give all. There is some call to give and hold back nothing.
I swear I obeyed God then, and this child who lives in me is the sign.
What am I saying? He is dead, my beautiful, strong man! I shall never
feel him caress me again. This is the only baby I shall have.
Oh, Holy Virgin, protect my baby! My little, helpless baby!
He will look like his father, and he will be as fast a runner and as good
a shot. Not that he shall be no scholar neither. He shall go to school
in winter, and learn to read and write, and my father will teach him to carve,
so that he can make the little horses, and cows, and chamois,
out of white wood. Oh, No! No! No! How can I think such things,
I am not good. My father will have nothing to do with my boy,
I shall be an outcast thing. Oh, Mother of our Lord God, be merciful,
take away my shame! Let my body be as it was before he came.
No little baby for me to keep underneath my heart for those long months.
To live for and to get comfort from. I cannot go home and tell my mother.
She is so hard and righteous. She never loved my father, and we were born
for duty, not for love. I cannot face it. Holy Mother, take my baby away!
Take away my little baby! I don't want it, I can't bear it!
And I shall have nothing, nothing! Just be known as a good girl.
Have other men want to marry me, whom I could not touch, after having known
my man. Known the length and breadth of his beautiful white body,
and the depth of his love, on the high Summer Alp, with the moon above,
and the pine-needles all shiny in the light of it. He is gone, my man,
I shall never hear him or feel him again, but I could not touch another.
I would rather lie under the snow with my own man in my arms!
So I shall live on and on. Just a good woman. With nothing to warm my heart
where he lay, and where he left his baby for me to care for. I shall not be
quite human, I think. Merely a stone-dead creature. They will respect me.
What do I care for respect! You didn't care for people's tongues
when you were carrying our Lord Jesus. God had my man give me my baby,
when He knew that He was going to take him away. His lips will comfort me,
his hands will soothe me. All day I will work at my lace-making,
and all night I will keep him warm by my side and pray the blessed Angels
to cover him with their wings. Dear Mother, what is it that sings?
I hear voices singing, and lovely silver trumpets through it all. They seem
just on the other side of the wall. Let me keep my baby, Holy Mother.
He is only a poor lace-maker's baby, with a stain upon him,
but give me strength to bring him up to be a man.
poem by Amy Lowell
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