The Principle Of Evil Made Flesh
From the primeval mass
let precious chaos vent
Sacred flesh drenched in fornication
beloved by Set
may the winds gather her together
from the secrets of men
after thousands of years of terrifying silence
she comes again
(All Destroyer)
The abolition of the yeshua begins...
Shattered are the icons of the worthless
the Goddess scorned is a Valkyrie born
scattered are the wings of the virulent holy
leave their husks to be the prey of vultures and dogs
World without end
cherish the lissome wants of pernicious evil
dusk in her eyes
torn bloody weeping skies
darkness will hasten to devour
and the weak will flee or die
Heil Vaskt
song performed by by Cradle Of Filth from The Principle Of Evil Made Flesh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Hours of Darkness
When upon the Cross of Calvary, great darkness fell for all to see,
For three hours upon the land, a darkness many didn’t understand,
That time after Christ was crucified, the time He suffered and died,
A time filled with silence too, when Christ had died for me and you.
Darkness surrounded His death, as He approached His last breath,
Darkness on the land was unfurled, around The Light of The World.
Silence fell on the mocking crowd, whose evil shout was very loud,
As the light scattered the darkness, hearts again, showed hardness.
Upon Christ God placed on Him, the darkened iniquity of man’s sin,
Made to be sin for Adam’s race, upon that cross He took our place,
And God couldn’t look and see, that sin Christ bore for you and me,
So through that dark span of time, God the Father had turned aside.
As Christ was on that bloody stake, the Son, the Father did forsake,
He gave His spirit, at His last breath, to His Father, as He saw death,
The earth quaked, opening graves, and bodies of saints were raised,
And as that Temple Curtain torn, the Age of Grace by God was born.
A soldier with sword and rod, said “surely that was The Son of God.”
The Son of God for all sinners lost, was taken down from the cross,
Thinking of that cross, we must recall, the Lamb of God died for all,
He died upon a bloody stake, so His Resurrection we could partake.
(Copyright ©04/2009)
Vultures!
Vultures not aware that they are torturers,
Eagle may assume that they are simple predators,
Circling above the ground, enjoying the breezy wind,
looking down with deep eyes only for one thing.
When their prey is spotted, the concentration get centered,
Eyes on that prey, the thought on that prey,
Wings stop to swing before a forceful delay,
Legs, claws and the nails just land on that display.
Vultures are there in you and I,
When the business man looks for the business,
When the doctors wait for the patients,
When the lawyers wait for the clients,
When the leaders wait for the votes,
Vultures are everywhere in them, you and I.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Do You Know the Son?
Do you know the Son, the one the Father gave?
Do you know the Son, who can save you from the grave?
The one who's got the crown from the Father up above?
The Word becoming flesh, to show the Father's love?
The Logos who came to Earth and was born but not by man
But by the Holy Spirit sent down by God's own hand.
The Son born in Bethlehem of Judea on that night;
The Son who is the one, whom in John is called the Light.
Yes, He's called the Light, and that's very true
For He came to light the way for men like me and you.
He is also called the Word, and if you did not know
He is the One who made all things so very long ago.
His name is Yeshua, the Christ, and now I'm telling you
Just what it was that God sent Him into the world to do.
God sent His Son to tell us about ourselves you see -
And how that if we did not change, we would end in misery.
He also showed us how to live and to make it ample;
He lived a life without sin; what a great example.
Now Yeshua is the Son of God and on this Earth he dwelt
'til the age of thirty three and, then the pain He felt.
Men on earth did not care about what He had to say;
All they thought of was themselves, so carted Him away.
And on the hill called Calvary, to a stake these men had made
They nailed my Saviour Yeshua the messuah, and there my debt He paid.
And as the blood poured forth from His hands, feet and side
If I then had been there like now I would have cried;
'cause of something else He had also come to say
Which was this that 'By His death He would take my sin away'
So, if you would believe that Yeshua died for you
Then you will also know your sins are forgiven too;
Do you know the Son, the one the Father gave?
The One called Yeshua, the Messiah, who died for you to save?
1 John 5: 20
It is to be noted that the Lord is not the eternal Son of God, but the Son of the eternal God; for there was no Son until he was born of Miriam, and born again at his resurrection, where it was declared to him by his Father, 'You are my Son, this day have I begotten you' this 'begotten' is reference to his resurrection, for he is the 'FIRSTBORN of many brethern' and 'we' at his coming. For we have been born again unto a living hope, that living hope is our LORD YESHUA/JESUS; for as he was raised to life. So too shall we be so raised if we press forward to the prize of the upward call in Messiah Yeshua our Lord, amen.
poem by Richard Merrell
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Auspicious of Nights
Auspicious of Nights
By: Adam M. Snow
On this auspicious of nights,
the children comes with fear delights,
awaken the infant, the newborn kin,
and open the world of pain within,
followed by all sins and sorrow,
as they wait to die this final morrow.
The wolves now vent, cry and howl,
as all children now gone on a prowl.
The moon once full now is shattered,
and all dreams are lost and scattered.
On this auspicious of nights,
they lose all their sights.
Now awakened yet asleep,
to the empty skies, they weep.
Cold and alone they stand vivified and afraid,
to their chambers they return to where they laid.
Confused and lost, they remain,
with nothing left for them to explain.
On this auspicious of nights,
darkness surrounds all lights.
The infant now cries,
as the children dies,
the wolves now vent silence,
as the world erupts in violence.
Now hatred ignites,
on this auspicious of nights.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Hymn To Eros
O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me.
Let the shadow of thy wings
brush me.
Let thy presence
enfold me, as if darkness
were swandown.
Let me see that darkness
lamp in hand,
this country become
the other country
sacred to desire.
Drowsy god,
slow the wheels of my thought
so that I listen only
to the snowfall hush of
thy circling.
Close my beloved with me
in the smoke ring of thy power,
that we way be, each to the other,
figures of flame,
figures of smoke,
figures of flesh
newly seen in the dusk.
poem by Denise Levertov
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Torn Butterfly
Torn butterfly torn butterfly
Seeing you there it makes me cry
Torn butterfly your wings they tore
From the weight that they bore
Torn butterfly it's plain to see
That you are just the same as me
Torn butterfly the world is tough
Hard as stones and just as rough
Torn butterfly I know your pain
And I don't want to know it again
Torn butterfly come join me now
And we'll regain our wings somehow
Torn butterfly it's sad but true
In death our wings become brand new
Torn butterfly just fade away
And we will fly this very day
Torn butterfly this note I send
And hope that you will cause your end
So we can fly in clear blue skies
Where no one hurts and no one cries
Torn butterfly with my last breath
I ask you to come join me in death
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inbetween, We Live!
the human heart feeds...
we are born hungry, born searching,
born needing, born wanting....
left alone on an island...
we lift our beaks to the sky,
gulping for flesh, gulping for air,
gulping for fire....
still smelling of ocean,
and something dark we cant name,
we run into the open,
running, not knowing where.
i cannot live
without the taste of darkness,
the smell of flesh,
and the touch of that
which is hidden...
i shout into the ocean,
and hear only the roar...
i leap from the ledge,
forgetting my wings!
i need a small fire,
and the secrets that curtains tell windows.
my lips need the grain
of soul on soul.
my body burns,
i listen for the prayer of ashes,
ashes that tremble
on the hearth alone.
i need body and eyes,
most of all eyes...
the curve of the breast,
coming and going with the tides.
i need legs and dampness,
conversation without words...
i need to remember
that i am alive.
the quiet walks in the rain,
with god as our partner.
barking with the dogs,
stopping to touch a blade of grass.
the feel of nearness,
the breath of companion....
we are born and die alone,
inbetween, we live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Febbraio fogs
Winds are blowing a grievous fate,
it's cold upon our fingers and dark,
ghosts prey howling on lone hark,
we came in life, one verse too late.
Winds are barking like stray dogs,
alone I wait for your icon to appear,
from our deserted (once alive) Pier,
where you smiled in Febbraio fogs.
And it is strange to feel you there,
you never left the winds' lone call;
I feel the flow in my veins to haul,
a string of fables on nostalgic fare;
And you appear - half on my mind,
'n' half in distance, to fill my eyes,
gray clouds snow from low skies,
doleful turns our dusk and twined.
Night denotes the silence of snow,
so much quietness falls like death,
regales me in solitude of an eighth
oracle to elongate, our time's tow.
Harbinger moon will Spring to fore,
if you appear, my hope will shine,
a conferred love will wave to mine,
imparted winds will reach Pier Four.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Yeshua is Raised!
If Yeshua the messiah is not raised
My faith is but a lie
Let me eat, drink and be merry
For tomorrow I may as well die.
If Yeshua the messiah be not raised
I earn pity from all of mankind
My faith has no sound foundation
I grope in the dark as the blind.
But Yeshua the messiah IS risen indeed
And he was seen by not a few men
Upward of five hundred at once
Plus those twelve in the upper den.
So, my faith stands firm in the Gospel
That Yeshua came and he died;
That he rose again the third day
On the Holy One of Israel I've relied.
Now, my faith is not founded on fables
Nor on tales that the old women tell,
But on the risen Lord Yeshua the messiah
Who has saved me and keeps me from hell
1 Corinthians 15
poem by Richard Merrell
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Faery Song
Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania, in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.
We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Gie to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Ante Aram
Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper,
Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies,
Incense of dirges, prayers that are as holy myrrh.
Ah, goddess, on thy throne of tears and faint low sighs,
Weary at last to theeward come the feet that err,
And empty hearts grown tired of the world's vanities.
How fair this cool deep silence to a wanderer
Deaf with the roar of winds along the open skies!
Sweet, after sting and bitter kiss of sea-water,
The pale Lethean wine within thy chalices!
I come before thee, I, too tired wanderer,
To heed the horror of the shrine, the distant cries,
And evil whispers in the gloom, or the swift whirr
Of terrible wings - I, least of all thy votaries,
With a faint hope to see the scented darkness stir,
And, parting, frame within its quiet mysteries
One face, with lips than autumn-lilies tenderer,
And voice more sweet than the far plaint of viols is,
Or the soft moan of any grey-eyed lute-player.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Death Song
What cometh here from west to east awending?
And who are these, the marchers stern and slow?
We bear the message that the rich are sending
Aback to those who bade them wake and know.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
We asked them for a life of toilsome earning,
They bade us bide their leisure for our bread;
We craved to speak to tell our woeful learning;
We come back speechless, bearing back our dead.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
They will not learn; they have no ears to hearken.
They turn their faces from the eyes of fate;
Their gay-lit halls shut out the skies that darken.
But, lo! this dead man knocking at the gate.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
Here lies the sign that we shall break our prison;
Amidst the storm he won a prisoner's rest;
But in the cloudy dawn the sun arisen
Brings us our day of work to win the best.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
poem by William Morris
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One Whisper of the Beloved
Lovers share a sacred decree –
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels,
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.
In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –
Our seeking is His seeking,
Our words are His words.
At times we flow toward the Beloved
like a dancing stream.
At times we are still water
held in His pitcher.
At times we boil in a pot
turning to vapor –
that is the job of the Beloved.
He breathes into my ear
until my soul
takes on His fragrance.
He is the soul of my soul –
How can I escape?
But why would any soul in this world
want to escape from the Beloved?
He will melt your pride
making you thin as a strand of hair,
Yet do not trade, even for both worlds,
One strand of His hair.
We search for Him here and there
while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side we ask,
'O Beloved, where is the Beloved?'
Enough with such questions! –
Let silence take you to the core of life.
All your talk is worthless
When compared to one whisper
of the Beloved.
A Faery Song
i{Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania,}
i{in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.}
WE who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Mourners
Weeping for ones who in darkness lie,
the ones who in distress have sold their helpless souls;
for ones who have been born only to die...
perhaps for ones they never knew at all.
At times in graveyard they bury their thoughts
as though in there the sentiments hide some sacred notes.
At times they and corpses alike must maintain
the silence of the grave...
I wonder what played beneath their heads
that made them scream a hollow cry
or that if ever in their solemn lips
float the shadows of a lie.
No one has been so desperate to cry as they...
finding reasons to fill their eyes with false tears
or making them real as they recall
the pain of all the years.
They mourn for others and sometimes for themselves;
they mourn perhaps for unwanted fears...
condemning, regretting, yet waiting
for the price after the tears.
I thought that life was different for those
who in silence mourn.
But then life's all the same-
for everything that dies has once been born.
Life is never different for them
who mourn in silence,
for everything that started must come to an end.
Just then, life's all the same-
I watched them from a distance,
pretending as they play the game.
Some think of them as crazy,
for some, ordinary fools.
They, are called THE MOURNERS
and I am one of them.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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When The Soul Knows, It Will Go Till The Depths Of Tommorow
As the world turns
Love makes a full circle and returns
Curving the passage of a day
Like the bending of a bow
Bringing the light of wisdom your way
Appearing as the hero you know
When chaos erupts into life
With the volcanic explosion of emotion
Molten lava of love reaches for the skies
At the height of pure passion
As the world strives for tomorrow
A shooting molten arrow
Innocent and hot
Is easily dealt a passing blow
By all those low below who prey her sort
From the hollowness of sorrow
The sky becomes aglow with a molten hue
When the soul knows
It will go till the depths of tomorrow
For all spirits who are true
Whose lives are torn
Who reach dusk before dawn.
poem by Kamini Arichandran
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I'm An Old Tree
Here is my beloved home
I'm an old tree
I grew up here
Here's where I belong
Here's the only place
Where I can face
In rough human race
Inspite of all difficulties and aches
Still I'm standing here
Here I've planted love seeds
I'm like an old trees
Don't take me off my root
My branches revive and sigh here
Since thousands and thousands of years
I'm an old tree that's living here
Inside these fields I've grew old
My branches and my leaves
Once they've born here
The only place they've been
How can I leave
I have memories here
All my childhood years
My desires and all my dreams
Are planted right here within
These fields I've born and ill live in
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Scattered
This song is dedicated to the memory of
Annie florence davies and carol bryans.
Like a seed that is sewn
All the children are scattered
By a breeze that is blown
Now the crops are all scattered
We are torn, we are shattered
Now some of us are barmy and battered
And the fields where we gathered
Are overgrown in weeds and in tatters
Through it all we were scattered
To the fields we are scattered
From the day we are born
To grow wild and sleep rough
Till from the earth we are torn
And a soul that is free
Can live on eternally
And the spirit can live on
Though its scattered in the world beyond
And Ive been out of my mind
Ever since shes been gone
I look around that empty room
No sight nor sound
Shes left so soon
Shes out of view
But the I find
Those scattered clues she left behind
A photograph with a smiling face
A cigarette stubbed out on the fireplace
A coffee cup with her lipstick stains
I guess Ill never see her again
Now my life is all scattered
Ever since shes been gone
I feel older, I feel fatter
I feel the blues coming on
We get bruised
We get battered
But well pick up the pieces that scattered
And with emotional glue
Were gonna stick together, body and mind
Ever since she went away
Ive been alone to contemplate
Time and space and why worlds move
While sitting in my solitude
Ive watched the stars and wondered why
Theyre scattered up there in the sky
And is she up there out of view
On some higher platitude
I wish I knew
Wish I could prove
The reason why this life on earth
Is scattered like the universe
Im scattered here and scattered there
Bits of me scattered everywhere
To the fields we are scattered
Then from the dust we are born
We survive somewhat battered
To a new life, a new dawn
In the end what will it matter
Therell only be my ashes to scatter
And all the logical answers
To a worrying mind
Will be scattered in time
Beaten and battered
To the earth you are scattered
Youre going home so what does it matter
To an atomic mind
Scattered here while you travel time
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The End of Darkness
There is a darkness on every side, and with it a prevailing evil tide.
And this evil that is all around us, fills our heart with deep disgust.
From the evil we attempt to hide, but its effects can not be denied.
But soon it shall be behind us, this present world with all its lusts.
We will no longer be in this world, when by God Eternity’s unfurled.
Darkness pervades each corner of life, causing all unwanted strife.
Darkness is evil’s vessel friend, with destruction as its ultimate end.
Satan wants to hand you defeat, as he desires to sift you like wheat.
What God says about our enemy, is resist the devil and he will flee.
For Christ has achieved the victory, for evil to be banished eternally.
Until then darkness isn’t a friend, and Christ’s Light is to be our end.
Darkness is dispelled by His Light, along with all the evil of the night.
When darkness mounts against us, we must lean on whom we trust.
One day the darkness all about us, will be blown away like the dust.
In Heaven there will be no night, for Christ will be The Eternal Light.
Lust of the flesh will be no more, when we reach that celestial shore.
We’ll have a pure mind and heart, as an eternity with Christ we start.
No more temptation for us to face, for Heaven will be a Perfect place.
Purged of all sin and iniquity, a New Heaven and Earth is what will be.
A place where Truth is not denied, for His Light will be on every side.
Living in Hiroshima
A morning in Hiroshima
In August of the year
I walk towards a tower
with battered walls and naked steel.
The dome is open to the sky
The walls have crumbled down
All else around had been laid waste
This was the zero ground.
In that river there were bodies
burned beyond recall.
Thousands dead around here
And scarce a standing wall
An involuntary Shiva
A chill creeps down my spine
One bomb destroyed this city
A monster born of mind..
We gather to remember-
The mayor says some words
Silence, a bell ringing,
sounds a warning to this world.
If the destroyer comes again
With his thousand suns
We'll die in our Hiroshimas
with Victory for none.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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