Gospel
We are the children of light,
Wise, not companioned
By goats
In a condemned graveyard.
Backward blowing
Blizzards of memory
Flatten out
The genealogies.
But here a point,
The objective essence
We work in.
We shall not drink from the stink-pots.
Propaganda,
Gospel spread
With tin shovels,
We are this generation.
poem by Patrick Kavanagh
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Related quotes
Chalk White
Pieces of you, spread all over, torn in two
Forward/Backward
Save yourself, from nothing, from no one
Forward/Backward
You better get yourself out of it
You better get yourself ouy of it
You think you're right but it ain't right
You think it's right but it ain't right.
Cease the slide, use the talent god gave you
Forward/backward
You better get yourself out of it
You better get yourself out of it
You think you're right, but it ain't right.
You think it's right, but it ain't right.
Forward/Backward
Forward/Backward
song performed by by 36 Crazyfists
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In different places over the years I have had to prove that socialism, which to many western thinkers is a sort of kingdom of justice, was in fact full of coercion, of bureaucratic greed and corruption and avarice, and consistent within itself that socialism cannot be implemented without the aid of coercion. Communist propaganda would sometimes include statements such as "we include almost all the commandments of the Gospel in our ideology". The difference is that the Gospel asks all this to be achieved through love, through self-limitation, but socialism only uses coercion. This is one point. Untouched by the breath of God, unrestricted by human conscience, both capitalism and socialism are repulsive.
quote by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Were I he or she…
I condemned his assaulting his wife.
I condemned her beating her children.
I condemned his infidelity.
Could I be different if I were in their shoes?
26.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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We are certain that there is forgiveness, because there is a Gospel, and the very essence of the Gospel lies in the proclamation of the pardon of sin.
quote by Charles Haddon Spurgeon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One Ultimate Unborn
Subconscious aliens
telekinetic mind
instrumentation
vast conspiracy
theory
experimentation
dark matter
cover up sums amass
atop blue mountain summit
shadow beings hovering
achieving unseen wings
of high altitude elevation
ping ponging propaganda
satellites of exploitation
fueling gears of ever revolving
earthy devastation
Pixilated preachers
blow whirl wind blizzards
causing avalanche slides
of conflicting information
Radio waves make
everyday material slaves
out of you and me
neon carnival lights
of mammon's worldly temple
keeping us chained to the wheel
maya matrix graveyard carousel
multitude of mind games manifest
before the age of mass media conquest
stored in the ageless mainframe
played out since beginningless time
morning star eclipse
clear light beyond
magellanic firework show
far side of the black hole
womb of the imageless
silent blankets of bliss
Essence of love free
unbound from grasp
distinction and form
Escaping birth and death
The one ultimate unborn
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Shovels, And Whores!
shovels and whores!
cant get nothing done,
for digging people out
in way too deep,
and loaning money to whores
for their crack rock pillows,
their babies crying
with hunger cursed lips.
addicts and losers,
prisoners put out,
to work the streets, or die.
and the unemployed breed
with despair driven need,
old people eating dogfood
with plastic spoons....
fight and give, eyes in the back
of your head, back to the wall...
shovels and whores,
all God's children gotta live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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At This Great Distance
Memory
Ancient light from a binary star
Bends across a receeding tide
A single point of light st this great distance
At this great distance only the eye
Pressed against the telescope of dreams
Sees two stars
Two stars, two white hot lines on a firey white
Spinning madly on lines defined
By each others gravity.
And by the time we see
The light of memory
There is no hope
Theres no hope
Only memory
They danced to songs
Played at the speed of light
Red shifting
Untouchable
At this great distance two stars, two souls
Become one single point of light
Not hot
Not cold
Not you
Not me
Only memory
Chorus
Only memory - at this great distance
(repeat to end
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Punctuality
A rider in life timely by sun
Bus, flight, rail, sail, strides
Content with objective appraisal
Point to point
A charecter personalized
Of comportment to conduct the self certified
Abstentious of iniquity
Point to point
A personality manifested
Of promptitude to hold sanity
Steadfast on virtuosity, humility
Point to point
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Soundtrack To A Generation
The smell of trees. can only be that way. on a sunny day.
Floating through the open window. to the cool inside.
Where we lay side by side. how can anything we feel. ever
Mean so much. as a summer love? how can anything we
Need. ever get in touch. with the meaning of.
A whole life waiting? wishing suddenly. that its going to be
The real thing. or separating. try your luck again. its just
Part of the adventure.
Holy cow. you do it to me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation. oh, wow. youre getting to me now. the
Soundtrack to a generation.
Another tune. before the light has gone. and well be on
Our way. the sounds and smells. will always linger on.
Theyre in my heart today.
We feel so lucky then. the worlds a massive place. but we
Run into each other. just one small happening. an accident
Of fate. or the work of co-conspirators? but if we knew.
What could it do. to help us now?
Holy cow. you do it to me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation. anyhow. just give it to me now. the
Soundtrack to a generation. oh wow. you really got me
Now. the soundtrack to a generation. holy cow. youre
Getting to me now. the soundtrack to a generation.
Years have gone on in between. but all I knew at
Seventeen. is all I know now now. through times of joy and
Suffering. the music flavours everything. thats all I know
Now.
Holy cow. you do it to me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation. oh wow. you really got me now. the
Soundtrack to a generation. anyhow just give it to me
Now. the soundtrack to a generation.
Just give it. youre getting. you do it you really got me now.
The soundtrack to a generation. oh wow. just give it.
Youre getting. you do it.
You really got me now. the soundtrack to a generation.
Oh wow. you really got me now. the soundtrack to a
Generation.
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ugly Circle
The cycle continues
The circle goes round
By the sins of the fathers
The children fall down
From generation to generation
Complication on complication
Wounded spirits, battered souls
Thats the way it always goes
Daddy yells
and
Mommy lies
Children learn their selfish pride
Children grow up
They are what they're taught
Another generation in the circle is caught.
poem by Annabel Lee
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Lies Told To Children
religious incantations,
written with dead bodies,
buried in ditches
with face drawn shovels.
the tint of skin tastes
like things done in the night.
and lies told to children
to let them sleep!
redemption killed
on a desert highway,
left to stink in the sun
of another faceless day.
we are what we have done,
in the final end.
yet we close our eyes,
and wash the blood from our hands!
blame it on the cost of freedom,
a white god with special needs.
religious incantations,
and lies told to children!
written for the spirits of over
100 million Native Americans killed!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Backward
Its all backward.
Its all bad word.
Said to me by you.
How you misunderstand.
All, wrapped up,
in yourself.
Fall, who will pick you up
Walking backward,
this is my mistake, my mistake.
This is my mistake, my mistake.
Im sorry dear,
I wish I could,
read your mind.
Its my fault, how I misunderstand.
Now, dont go changing,
trying to please me.
It will never work.
Walking backward.
This is my mistake.
Always backward.
This is my mistake, my mistake.
I can,
feel this, next,
upcoming crisis will be our,
last one.
I swear.
I swear.
Walking backward.
Walking backward.
Walking backward.
This is my mistake
song performed by by Quicksand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Stink!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
All I've ever wanted from you,
Was your trust.
Although my honesty shows,
Perhaps I trust too much.
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
I get the message!
You have preferences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Still Too Early To Cry
Life's bleak
There's no other way to flee
from the broken glass fragments
scattered across the floor.
Watching pieces of my face
staring back at me
as my head hung low
looking at those flawed reflections.
Blood dripping on the brick
the now silent culprit
who blew that precious mirror
right in front of my face.
Happened in a flash
nothing I could save
just be glad that my eyes
are spared from the graze.
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
but it is still too early to fall...
It is still too early to cry.
The old me would feel like quitting
but I have a reason to keep on standing,
because I can see with my very eyes
that the season is still too early...
It is still too early to cry.
Wishing the dark to be eternal
as flesh curled up in a corner
locked in a fetal position
not wanting to wake up again.
But Time waits for no one
and dawn disturbs my slumber
as if my rest has never happened,
the cycle goes on and on.
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
but it is still too early to fall...
It is still too early to cry.
The old me would feel like quitting
but I have a reason to keep on standing,
because I can see with my very eyes
that the season is still too early...
It is still too early to cry.
(Nature's song rings so eternal:
Life slips into death,
death rises into life.
Seasons come and passes
nothing is ever permanent
change, is inevitable
and those who refuse to die
would never have tasted life.)
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
but it is still too early to fall...
It is still too early to cry.
The old me would feel like quitting
but I have a reason to keep on standing,
because I can see with my very eyes
that the season is still too early...
It is still too early to cry.
What's broken, is already broken
but it is still too early to cry...
I still have a long way to go.
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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It Is Wonderful That There Are So Many Small Children In Israel
IT IS WONDERFUL THAT THERE ARE SO MANY SMALL CHILDREN IN ISRAEL
It is wonderful that there are so many small children in Israel
I see them everywhere and am happy when I see them.
Do they make up or compensate in some way for the million and one half Jewish children murdered a generation or two ago?
Nothing makes up for even one life lost
That we know.
But still seeing these children one invariably thinks of those other Jewish children-
I don't understand it at all-
It is wonderful that there are so many small children in Israel
Children are a great blessing and the hope of their parents and grandparents lives-
God Bless and protect these children
And let them never know the hatred the suffering the cruelty
Children no less innocent than them knew
A generation or two ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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This is the secret of propaganda: To totally saturate the person, whom the propaganda wants to lay hold of, with the ideas of the propaganda, without him even noticing that he is being saturated.
quote by Paul Watzlawick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The United States has it's own propaganda, but it's very effective because people don't realize that it's propaganda. And it's subtle, but it's actually a much stronger propaganda machine than the Nazis had but it's funded in a different way.
quote by Crispin Glover
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Smell The Stink!
sticks and stones,
Smith and Jones...
pedantic thoughts,
and mechanical arms.
broken shell, dipped in hell,
buy or sell, price foretells...
hearts dont beat,
safe from harm!
tried and true,
old and new...
bruises worn,
scars are touched.
me and you, dare to do,
only the few, coming to...
so take little,
give back much!
feel too much, too hard to think,
light a smoke, take a drink.
choice before us, swim or sink...
taste the hurt, smell the stink!
feed the hunger,
simple wonder.
mouths and feet,
in the street.
real and hope, grab the rope,
better than dope, dipped and soaked.
break the glass,
feel the heat!
feel too much, too hard to think,
light a smoke, take a drink.
choice before us, swim or sink...
taste the hurt, smell the stink!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Moonlight Swallowed
poets do their best work,
with shovels by light of moon.
burying the unspeakable,
owls mumble o'er the grave.
and moonlight taunts,
with a flip of her hair,
sending fireflies to worship
in the naked trees.
the lies old men tell,
over bourbon and wars.
old bellies straining,
and eyes long dead.
while their women grieve,
over irons and burnt pots.
and the children plot,
with matches and wills.
a Wal-Mart cross necklace,
blood pressure, and sugar.
while boys with hard passion,
stare at girls with big breasts.
crippled by fear,
unable to talk or listen...
life races by,
in spasms of ego.
and hymns sung in graveyards
seem little to pay...
for the fire and the embers,
now ashes cold.
somewhere a baby is born,
an abandoned dog killed by a car.
one seeks for milk...
the other eaten by crows!
flags stained by pus,
lowered in reluctant protest.
while a single flower blooms,
on a mountain of garbage...
and poets, lest we forget,
look for hammers and nails,
ah... to build an ark!
moonlight... swallowed by clouds.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Point Of Light
Theres a point when you cannot walk away
Theres a darkness that everyone must face
There are heroes whose names we never hear
When you have to stand up
Straight and tall an mean the words you say
It wants to take whats good and fair and lay it all to waste
A dedicated army of quiet volun-teers
Theres a point you must decide just to do it cause its right
And that darkness covers everything in sight
Reaching out to feed the hungry reaching out to save the land
Thats when you be-come a point of light
Until it meets a single point of light
Reaching out to their fellow men.
All it takes is a point of light a ray of hope in the dar-kest night.
If you see whats wrong and you try to make it right
You will be a point of light.
There are dreamers who are making dreams come true
Taking time to teach the children theres nothing they cant do.
Giving shelter to the homeless giving hope to those without.
Isnt that what this lands all about.
One by one form the mountains to the sea points of light
Are calling out to you and me
All it takes is a point of light a ray of hope in the dar-kest night.
If you see whats wrong and you try to make it right
You will be a point of light.
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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