The Goat Convention
The goats held a convention.
“We want liberation! ”
They bleated boldly.
“I want to hear concrete suggestions”,
Advised the chairman gently.
“And tabula rasa”, he added.
The result, however,
Was only a long and silent pause.
Eventually though one goat rose
To say something.
He cleared his throat
And valiantly addressed the assembly:
“Our liberation and the struggle
To achieve equal rights go hand in hand.
So, in view of the fact
That men can wear goatees,
I propose that we goats also start
To wear manly fashioned beards”.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Related quotes
On the other hand, one factor helps us that no other liberation struggle in this region could count on - our liberation front is characterized by relatively highly developed class forces, tested in political struggles.
My life has been a bit special, this is true. I participated in the liberation of my country. I was one of the organisers of its struggle for liberation. I likewise actively participated in all the struggles for liberation.
quote by Ahmed Ben Bella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Billy-Goat Overland
Come all ye lads of the droving days, ye gentlemen unafraid,
I'll tell you all of the greatest trip that ever a drover made,
For we rolled our swags, and we packed our bags, and taking our lives in hand,
We started away with a thousand goats, on the billy-goat overland.
There wasn't a fence that'd hold the mob, or keep 'em from their desires;
They skipped along the top of the posts and cake-walked on the wires.
And where the lanes had been stripped of grass and the paddocks were nice and green,
The goats they travelled outside the lanes and we rode in between.
The squatters started to drive them back, but that was no good at all,
Their horses ran for the lick of their lives from the scent that was like a wall:
And never a dog had pluck or gall in front of the mob to stand
And face the charge of a thousand goats on the billy-goat overland.
We found we were hundreds over strength when we counted out the mob;
And they put us in jail for a crowd of theives that travelled to steal and rob:
For every goat between here and Bourke, when he scented our spicy band,
Had left his home and his work to join in the billy-goat overland.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Christmas Day At The Bunkhouse (Fun Poem 47)
It was Christmas day at the bunkhouse
everyone had sat down for a meal
when through the door walked a goat.
He stood and looked around,
then continued to eat an artichoke.
When he finished he sat and asked for a drink,
someone got up and gave him a bowel of water.
The goat looked at the offering with disgust.
Ain’t you got anything stronger that that?
Of course, we have, came the reply.
Well pour me out some the goats said,
and put some mud in my eye.
Someone had some scotch whiskey
and took the bottle out,
then gave the goat a dram.
The goat sniffed it, and then downed it
all in one swallow.
He then asked for more
saying his legs were still hollow.
Another dram was poured
and everyone was amazed to see,
an upside down goat
drinking a bottle of scotch whiskey.
The goat drank all day
and it drank all night.
The lights went out
and the old goat went to sleep.
He dreamed of himself
floating out the door
and all the way to heaven,
but when he got there,
St Peter wouldn’t let him in.
He said God will not tolerate
any drunken old goats here,
so you had better go back
and sleep it off, Billy.
Then put up a sign on the door.
No drunken old goats allowed,
signed by you know who.
You could always try
beneath the basement floor
he’ll greet you with a smile
and a shovel,
even make you hot and warm.
The moral of this story
whether you’re a goat or a man.
Don’t drink too much;
you could end up
jumping from the frying pan
and straight into the fire,
the one that they keep burning
permanently beneath the basement floor.
poem by David Harris
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Temple And City Were Destroyed In 70 A.D.!
“And from the assembly of the sons of Israel he should take two male kids of the goats for a sin offering and one ram as a burnt offering” Leviticus 16: 5
The high priest must draw lots over the two goats
one lot for ADONAI and the other lot for Azazel.
The high priest must present the goat over whose
lot fell to ADONAI as a sin offering. But the goat
whose lot fell to Azazel should be stood alive before
ADONAI to make atonement for it, by sending it
away into the desert for Azazel.
to cast the lots upon
the two male kid goats
were two lot stones
one white and one black
upon the white stone was written the words
“For the Lord”
upon the black stone was written the words “For Azazal”
Azazal the chosen goat
that was to be sent away
the goat to be banished
these two symbolic stones were
placed at time of the lot choosing
in a container and priest shaken
then the high priest without looking must choose the sin offering he must put in his right hand inside
and draw out one of the two lots!
The Babylonian Talmud records that for over two hundred years before
the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 30 A.D.
the chosen first stone
to appear in the
lot grasped right hand
of the high priest fluctuated arbitrarily
between the white
and black stone
each year unpredictably
as God selected the most perfect
goat to be slain
or released for atonement
of sins on behalf
of all the Jewish people!
How strange miraculous
that beginning with Messiah prophisized
Day of Atonement in 30 A.D.
the year of the death
and resurrection
of our Lord Jesus Christ
that the black lot stone appeared in the right
hand of the high priest
for the next 39 years unfailingly!
What are the chances of that?
The chances of the black lot stone
“For Azazal”
appearing 40 consecutive times in the right hand of the high priest is over
a trillion to one according
to the odds of numerical probability how bizarre!
Was the constant appearance of the black stone in the right
hand of the high priest a sign?
Was it a sign of our God's displeasure with the House of Judah a warning to repent?
What if anything happened after forty years of a black lot stone appearing as continuous warning
in the right hand of the high priest?
Fulfillment of the scary prophetic
black lot stone came when Jerusalem
and Holy Temple were destroyed in
70 A. D. by the Roman Empire. Titus began the siege on April14th
70A.D. exactly forty years to the
day after Christ’s crucifixion on April14th 30 A.D. at Golgotha! Where Christ died for thee and me.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also Forty Years Of Warning and The Fall Of The Temple In 70 A.D.!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It's as if we think liberation a fixed quantity, that there is only so much to go around. That an individual or community is liberated at the expense of another When we view liberation as a scarce resource, something only a precious few of us can have, we stifle our potential, our creativity, our genius for living, learning and growing.
quote by Andrea Canaan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wildy Ones
The sheep are in the silver wood,
The cows are in the broom;
The goats are in the wild mountain
And won't be home by noon.
My mother sang that olden tune
Most every night,
And to her newest she would croon
By candle light;
While cuddling in the velvet gloom
I'd dream of cows
That sought each dawn 'mid golden broom
To gently browse.
Or I would glimpse the silver wood,
The birchen glade,
Where pearly sheep in quiet mood
Cropped unafraid;
But how I loved in lapsing drowse
The mountain wild!
The goats were more than sheep and cows
To one wee child.
For cows and sheep are shelter-wise,
And love the lea;
While goats have starlight in their eyes,
In cragland free . . .
And now on edge of endless sleep
Wryly I note
How less I'm kin to kine and sheep
Than rebel goat!
poem by Robert William Service
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Africa child
You stay in one
of a group of shacks
on the other side
of the cleared borderline
where bleating goats
are eating
leaves from the thorn bushes.
You run inquisitive past
some pecking chickens
and your large brown and white eyes
are watching me,
when I take the LMG with the other hand
and get some hot water
out of a green water bottle.
Your hands are dirty caked with mud
and you wear a dirty white t-shirt
and tattered torn pants,
but there’s a smile
that spread past your ears
when I give an energy bar
and a dogbiscuit to you.
You push a car built from wire
along my boot tracts
and talk in your own language
as far as we go
and there’s wonder
in your big eyes,
when I take the catapult from you
and shoot the bird
which you are aiming at for some time,
with one shot
out of the sky.
You bring the bird to me
and I indicate
that you must take it
and you are still happier
and just before
I leave with my troops,
you pick up a stick
and point at the bush
before you draw your finger
across your throat.
I still hear your childish laughter
and see you disappear in the distance,
while we walk with another route
circling around those bushes.
Later another military patrol
detonated some landmines there
and there where no child,
to walk with them
and it was only
another forsaken native village.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Equal Rights,2011
equal rights to live,
equal rights to love.
equal rights to believe,
to speak out, to stand up
and be counted.
equal rights to work,
equal rights to study.
equal rights to build.
equal rights to profess faith,
equal rights to pray.
equal rights to give...
equal rights to live,
equal rights to love!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Women's liberation is the liberation of the feminine in the man and the masculine in the woman.
quote by Corita Kent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The milk of black goats and white goats is all the same.
Of all the nasty outcomes predicted for women's liberation... none was more alarming, from a feminist point of view, than the suggestion that women would eventually become just like men.
quote by Barbara Ehrenreich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Goats
Rock of escaping goats,
Your own eyes have seen this day;
But understand and perceive the muse of my love.
From evil doers comes evil deeds,
But i will pay homage to the things which are right;
And like the crags of the wild goats.
Give me a special blessing and let me love you,
Give me a special love and let me guide you,
Give me a special care and let me be with you always;
And she became the trap for him who was asleep.
On the crag of the wild goats,
Do love yourself first before loving me;
For you can't love others by hating yourself.
Rock of escaping goats,
I am a poor man and little known by you;
But my mind is faster than the bullets of war!
To the son-in-law of the king,
And to the daughter-in-law of the queen;
This is the time that i am free from war,
And like the rock of escaping goats.
Whose son is this boy?
Whose daughter is this girl?
Whose husband is this man?
Whose wife is this woman?
On the cage of the wild goast to take a rest;
But this is the day that Yahweh spoke of.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Silent world
Silent
Is wear...
Any wear
In the word
Silent
Is wear...
Every wear
Sond
Sond...
Today sonds
Is making
Silent...
Not today
One or one day
Sounds making
A silent world...
At the time
You and me
All are earth under...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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For far too long, the people of Northern Ireland have been denied an equal voice and equal representation in government. It is time for the Assembly and Executive to be up and running and the people's business to be addressed.
quote by James T. Walsh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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John Paul II made it clear that... liberation theology based on the teaching of Jesus Christ was necessary, but liberation theology that used a Marxist analysis was unacceptable.
quote by Claudio Hummes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wear My Hat
She came looking for me with her arms open wide,
Like some long lost friend of mine.
She said excuse me, but do you remember me ?
I said no, I dont believe I do
So she looked me up and down
And undressed me with her eyes,
Then she said youve got everything I need, youve got everything I want
So I said ok,
You can wear my hat,
You can have my coat,
You can take my shirt
cos I dont need it.
You can wear my shoes,
You can take my socks,
Come on take my bag its yours
If you love it,
You can have it if you love it,
Aint no problem if you love it,
Come on take it if you love it.
So her friend came up to me
With a pen and paper in her hand,
Expressing some interest in the number of my room,
She said excuse me, but do you remember me?
I said no, she said can I appeal to you?
So I looked her up and down
And realising her insinuations I blushed
She said listen babe you dont know me,
No you dont know me but you owe me,
And I love you,
Yes I love you,
Put your arms around me cos I love you,
I got all your records and I love you
So I suggested
You can wear my hat,
You can have my coat,
You can take my shirt
cos I dont need it.
You can wear my shoes,
You can take my socks,
Come on take my bag its yours
If you love it,
You can have it if you love it,
Aint no problem if you love it,
Come on take it if you love it.
Well later on that day this guy came to me
With a scrap of paper in his hand
He said hey buddy can you sign your name for me?
I said why, do I owe you money? he said no
I said listen pal do I know you? have we ever met?
Why do you want my name on this little piece of paper?
He said i love you,
I dont know you but I love you,
Like my brother I love you,
Put your arms around me cos I love you
I said hey lets not rush things
You can wear my hat,
You can have my coat,
You can take my shirt
cos I dont need it.
You can wear my shoes,
You can take my socks,
Come on take my bag its yours
If you love it,
You can have it if you love it,
Aint no problem if you love it,
Come on take it if you love it.
You can wear my hat,
You can wear my hat,
You can wear my hat,
Come on wear my hat.
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black Roses
In the garden of wild plants
I search for a Rose or a Lily.
The laugh of the plants get subdued
Then I look for a Jasmine or a Hibiscus.
Then I hear the sob of a flower a little away
With black petals all within her.
'Who are you all? ', I queried.
'You call us black roses', they said.
Unplucked, untouched and unfelt they remain
The black roses of a wild region!
'May I pluck one of you? ' I asked.
'You are welcome to liberate us all' they said.
Liberation! I am a bit confused,
Liberation of a flower is a novel idea
And I return with a few black roses
For I cant liberate them by plucking at a go.
The Rose fades, the Lily shrinks,
The Jasmine dries up and the Hibiscus falls.
But my mind says to me now for certain,
'These Black Roses will bloom in your gardens once'.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Words of liberation for my nation
Chains of slavery are still over my people.
Notorious minds still over power innocent minds.
What can free the black child, what can free my nation?
I ask in pain and suffering in the dark jail cells,
What can free me from mental slavery?
How to know right from wrong?
How to think free and build a free society?
The solution is in the words of liberation, the words of wisdom.
I write and recite a revolution, my revolution my poetry.
I do n’t need praises or worship but only recognition and understanding of the people to words of liberation, understanding of poetry.
I stand before you to present poetry,
I stand before you to present the words of liberation to my nation.
Poetry that builds, poetry that destroys.
Poetry that destroyed the impious minds of colonists in Rhodesia.
I speak of poetry that built freedom in South Africa.
When I speak of poetry I mean the true meaning of words.
Words of wisdom,
Words of freedom,
Words of liberation,
Words to free my nation.
The words of liberation to my nation
Words of liberation to free my generation
Poetry-poetry-poetry-poetry-poetry.
poem by zimi Nakeni
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Tigers And Goats
Tigers and goats,
And the tigers ate up the goats;
But they will get the signals when the church bell rings,
And like Medo-Persia, Greece and Rome!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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