The magnate of evil
The magnate of evil
But what a magnate it is!
It cannot draw the iron of Character Towards it.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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The Garden
A much-anticipated promise kept,
A magnate's meal surely, except
It was meant for me, a festivity;
A celebration, my new-found nativity!
Each morsel, more delectable still;
A genesis, again, of my free will!
Rain welcomed me, as empathetic;
My muted opine: 'how poetic'!
Transmogrifying complex to simplicity-
Knowing my pain, inviting my felicity!
It began quite simply, as a gesture;
By its end, a long-overdue de-vesture!
Looking now shall be only forward,
Moving now shall only be onward!
Maurice Harris,9 October 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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At The Brink
“Few more strides into rival site; fight! Fight!
Yelled a lieutenant, “Conquest’s within our sight”
“Few more mouthfulls of ale; let me guzzle, guzzle”
Craved a carouser, “I’m at the edge of the azure”
“One more joker in the deck; let me bet! Bet!
Hoped a gamester, “I’m going to hit jackpot”
“More billions in coffer; let me earn! Earn! ”
Yearned a magnate, “I’ll soon be number one”
“One more cute woman; let me try! Try”
Vied a wooer, “My grand hundredth prey”
“Awful are human wiles; I can’t deal! Heal! ”
Riled Almighty “I crawl into the Black hole”
Slimy borders shake you, shock you; strain! Drain!
Gain on with guts; lest back to square one! Again! ! ! !
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Landing on the Moon
When in the mask of night there shone that cut,
we were riddled. A probe reached down
and stroked some nerve in us,
as if the glint from a wizard's eye, of silver,
slanted out of the mask of the unknown-
pit of riddles, the scratch-marked sky.
When, albino bowl on cloth of jet,
it spilled its virile rays,
our eyes enlarged, our blood reared with the waves.
We craved its secret, but unreachable
it held away from us, chilly and frail.
Distance kept it magnate. Enigma made it white.
When we learned to read it with our rod,
reflected light revealed
a lead mirror, a bruised shield
seamed with scars and shadow-soiled.
A half faced sycophant, its glitter borrowed,
rode around our throne.
On the moon there shines earth light
as moonlight shines upon th earth…
If on its obsidian we set our weightless foot,
and sniff no wind, and lick no rain
and feel no gauze between us and the Fire
will we trot its grassless skull, sick for the homelike shade?
Naked to the earth-beam we shall be,
who have arrived to map an apparition,
who walk upon the forehead of a myth.
Can flesh rub with symbol? If our ball
be iron, and not light, our earliest wish
eclipses. Dare we land upon a dream?
poem by May Swenson
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The real evil with which we have to contend is not the physical evil of the Famine, but the moral evil of the selfish, perverse and turbulent character of the people.
quote by Charles E. Trevelyan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The most unrealistic thing I've ever read in comics is when some group of characters calls themselves the Brotherhood of Evil or the Masters of Evil. I don't believe any character believes their goals to be truly evil.
When Bryan Speaks
When Bryan speaks, the town's a hive.
From miles around, the autos drive.
The sparrow chirps. The rooster crows.
The place is kicking and alive.
When Bryan speaks, the bunting glows.
The raw procession onward flows.
The small dogs bark. The children laugh
A wind of springtime fancy blows.
When Bryan speaks, the wigwam shakes.
The corporation magnate quakes.
The pre-convention plot is smashed.
The valiant pleb full-armed awakes.
When Bryan speaks, the sky is ours,
The wheat, the forests, and the flowers.
And who is here to say us nay?
Fled are the ancient tyrant powers.
When Bryan speaks, then I rejoice.
His is the strange composite voice
Of many million singing souls
Who make world-brotherhood their choice.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wouldn't say that I'm very similar to the character of Nathan at all. Both of us have had very different upbringings and backgrounds. I have a competitive nature like the character of Nathan. That's really easy to draw from when I'm acting; that's probably the biggest similarity.
quote by James Lafferty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On being called a considerate soul who has good memory
I'd rather consider less
And turn into a worry-free princess
It's a misery to wake in the mid of the night
Considering all things that could've been possible
And no way found for them to be possible
Being considerate?
I'd rather be a magnate
I'd rewire my memory too
If brain science got a breakthrough
Long live will the memory of laughter
The memory of honor
But not for the memory of an unrequited love
Enchanted by a sweet smile
Though love can be as pure as a white dove
And a smile can be very attractive
The disappointment that follows is hard to shove
How foolish is the memory cell
That holds fast to a cute smile
The pains that follow
Are far more than poetry words can tell
If the memory cell has wings
It'll probably turn into a moth
Flying into a blazing fire
And thinking itself a light-seeking pioneer
Oh, I'd better donate the foolish cell to some wise guy
But finally
I decide to keep it and give it another try
After all
What if there really is a considerate soul in me
Soul, please, be considerate
And help rewire the memory cell for me
poem by Cathy Shao
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Feeling the rath of Evil
Feeling Evil
Evil on a night like this
Evil tasting like a twisted wish
Evil paralized upon the ground
Evil tates the tears of fear
Evil tainted sounds of cheer
Evil dripping down; your blood of hate
Evil tearing down your helpless fate
Evil swears that by the night's end
Evil won't say it was all pretend
Evil because Death will follow you
Evil until full content
Evil pleasured to full extent
poem by Kelsi Gray
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Egalité
Juan Lanas, el mozo de esquina,
es absolutamente igual
al Emperador de la China:
los dos son el mismo animal.
Juan Lanas cubre su pelaje
con nuestra manta nacional;
el gran magnate lleva un traje
de seda verde excepcional.
Del uno cuidan cien dragones
de porcelana y de cristal;
Juan Lanas carga maldiciones
y gruesos fardos por un real,
pero si alguna mandarina
siguiendo el instinto sexual
al Emperador se avecina
en el traje tradicional
que tenía nuestra madre Eva
en aquella tarde fatal
en que se comieron la breva
del árbol del Bien y del Mal,
y si al mismo Juan una Juana
se entrega por modo brutal
y palpita la bestia humana
en un solo espasmo sexual,
Juan Lanas, el mozo de esquina,
es absolutamente igual
al Emperador de la China:
los dos son el mismo animal.
poem by Jose Asuncion Silva
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Evil's Goodness
Evil’s Goodness
Christian U. Garan
You and I are sinful being.
Denying the fact is lying.
So accept the unacceptable reality,
Coz’ doing such reflects your maturity.
Yet, there are times in which our “Id” demands;
Worldly pleasures it commands.
And the “Ego” will instantly be on the go.
But wait, never let go!
Be firm enough to resist temptations.
Then there will be feathers on your hat!
You have a brain to decide,
and conscience which will guide.
So, my dear, make a dry run!
Make a dry run!
Can’t you run away from this and that?
Admit that you can’t and
make a dry run.
Physical evil is imperfection.
But moral evil is a violation.
Authentic evil is the moral evil.
The two are true but of different level.
The value of things lies on the morale.
Morality isn’t singular but it’s plural.
Yet, why is evil created by God?
Can he just program human not to be bad?
But my dear I tell you,
Something good from the seemingly evil
He can draw!
poem by Christian Garan
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Dora Williams
When Reuben Pantier ran away and threw me
I went to Springfield. There I met a lush,
Whose father just deceased left him a fortune.
He married me when drunk. My life was wretched.
A year passed and one day they found him dead.
That made me rich. I moved on to Chicago.
After a time met Tyler Rountree, villain.
I moved on to New York. A gray-haired magnate
Went mad about me -- so another fortune.
He died one night right in my arms, you know.
(I saw his purple face for years thereafter.)
There was almost a scandal. I moved on,
This time to Paris. I was now a woman,
Insidious, subtle, versed in the world and rich.
My sweet apartment near the Champs Élysées
Became a center for all sorts of people,
Musicians, poets, dandies, artists, nobles,
Where we spoke French and German, Italian, English.
I wed Count Navigato, native of Genoa.
We went to Rome. He poisoned me, I think.
Now in the Campo Santo overlooking
The sea where young Columbus dreamed new worlds,
See what they chiseled: "Contessa Navigato
Implora eterna quiete."
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Feeling Evil
Evil on a night like this
Evil tasting like a twisted wish
Evil paralized upon the ground
Evil tates the tears of fear
Evil tainted sounds of cheer
Evil dripping down; your blood of hate
Evil tearing down your helpless fate
Evil swears that by the night's end
Evil won't say it was all pretend
Evil because Death will follow you
Evil until full content
Evil pleasured to full extent
poem by Elena Helms
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Dr. Evil
Evil, evil is his one and only name
Evil, in his mind there is no other game!
When your name is Evil, that is good or so you think,
but you're so very wrong.
It's evil!
But being wrong is right, so then you're good again,
wich is the evilest thing of all...
Do you find his sudden ways, invite you? does he excite you?
If his contradictions should atract you, should he distract you?
Heaven help you then...
You're finished, it's the end...
There'll be no retrieval...
From the evil...
The evil,
he will
do.
He's evil,
he's Doctor Evil.
His name is Evil.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Benediction (English sestet) [1]
Let God from you keep all kinds of evil
let Him banish all kinds of constant fear,
all wicked men, fiends, the very devil;
while His mighty angels always draw near,
draw a fiery laager around you walls,
that they may only be hallowed halls.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Nip The Evil Intents
Oh Friend! To avoid shameful disgrace,
And earn favours in the Mighty Court,
Nip off the evil intents in the bud,
Lest they should assume the shape of words,
Which might take up the form of actions,
Actions become the character whole,
And the character bears instant catastrophe,
Bitter, painful and certainly tormenting.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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In Answer To Pirandello's Question
if the character steps inside my room
i will perhaps choose the
character
honestly, i still don't have it
i mean,
character, not that character of
your play
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Evil is YOU!
Everyone says,
I’m evil because I beat my sister,
I’m evil because I took drugs,
I’m evil because I went to prison,
I’m evil because I cheated,
Well Guess what!
You’re not evil,
So chill,
You’re the core of evil,
You represent every part of evil,
And…..,
So is your dark side,
Your devil!
poem by Rana Malas
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Evil, I call you! !
Evil
Don't listen to a word they say
Will let you be alone at times,
Needed most.
That evil eyes looks at you,
and lies
All the hateful things you said
and what you've put me through.
Evil
In the heart of people
Evil
Wont care if you die
Evil
Is all that I can perceive in you
So is your dark side,
Your evil.
Evil is you.
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
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