En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Triumph Of Evil

i will always remember the lie that society and religion
embedded in my brain
that crime does not pay
that the good always triumphs at
the end

i am forty-seven years old now
neither too young neither too old
but i have seen a lot of events and
read and write about them

that evil triumphs too, and i thought it is temporary and
just a passing thing
it is not,

the corrupt ones are crowned, the criminals are the cream of the crowd,
the ogres are given the golden medals,
the good die young
and the bad grows and spreads like the grass on a very fertile land

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Forever Young

In life there is only one certainty
and that is one day we will die,
it is only a question of
how and when that remains a mystery.
Scientist the whole world over
would love to find the solution
that could extend our lives,
letting us live longer
yet remain in good health.
As the population now
is living longer with each passing year.
Four hundred years ago
if you were forty you were old,
but now at forty we are still young.
In another four hundred years,
people who are one hundred
may be classed as being young.
The world can only wait and see.

4 November 2009

poem by David Harris
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In pure literature, the writers of the eighteenth century achieved, indeed, many triumphs; but their great, their peculiar, triumphs were in the domain of thought.

quote by Lytton Strachey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only The Good Die Young

The demon in your mind will rape you in your bed at night
The wisdom of ages the lies and outrages concealed
Time it waits for no man
My future is revealed
Time it waits for no man
My fate is sealed
If I cancel tomorrow the undead will thank me today
Fly in the space of your prophets I mock your morality plays
The moon is red and bleeding
The sun is burned and black
The book of life is silent
No turning back
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
Only the good die young
Mistery madman a victim of cruel charade
Some innocent pawn in an end game one more stalemate
Is death another birthday?
A way to kiss your dreams goodbey?
Do the undead live within us?
And look through our eyes?
Walking on water are mirarcles all you can trust
Measure your coffin does it measure up to your lust
So I think Ill leave you
With your bishops and your guilt
So until the next time
Have a good sin
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
Only the good die young
Seven deadly sins
Seven ways to win
Seven holy paths to hell
Seven downward slopes
Seven bloodied hopes
Seven are your burning fires
Seven you desires...

song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hope That Will Always Be There

most of the time
i waited for the final showdown
of this battle
between good and evil

for the moment the bad one
wins and
teases me
for not siding with it

but i am attuned to
waiting
i always hope
that at the end it is only the good
that triumphs

for the meantime i watch the evil one
laugh and dance
and drink
all the luxuries of this
earth

there is this patience of
faith
that never falters

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Juvenile Offenders Act

The Juvenile Offenders Act gives soft-on-crime judges an out,
While the names of young criminals don’t get published throughout,
The statisticians do surveys that say everything is fine,
And it doesn’t matter who got off with a whole bunch of crime.

The people don’t have referendums nor required to vote,
And young criminals know they can get away with it and gloat,
The height of political correctness with lawyers by the score,
Nodding and waving as the criminals walk out the courtroom door.

Are we the only people in the world with these stupid laws?
As the judges, the lawyers and the pink socialists applause,
Where can we find a politician that really means what he says?
How do we go about getting binding referendums these days?

poem by James Bredin
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Light And Darkness

as we all know there is no good without evil, nor heaven without a hell, No light without darkness, but yet we continue to watch stories about how light is always the good guy, there is only one true bad guy and those are the guys that commit crimes and continue to knowing there wrong and they don't care, if you flip evil around you get 'live' or flip devil around and you get 'lived', darkness and evil are not as bad as we make them out to be they just have a different perspective, they have a different story to tell, the good guys and the bad guys both have objectives sometimes there is a bad guy as seen above but in most cases its a guy trying to help himself and or his people or beliefs while the 'good' guys have the spotlight and defeat the 'bad' guy, but if you look at the stories on both sides you understand better, the both just have different objects and different desires, and one triumphs over the other, there is no good without evil we all make mistakes but we all do what we must in dire times, we are all good and evil, we all are made of light and darkness, learn to live with both its much more harmonious besides if you only followed light you'd have to be in a blazing hot sun for a long time and what fun is that.

poem by Jaques Leblanc
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Little Sadie

Went down last night to take a look around
Met little Sadie and I blew her down, went right home, went to bed
Forty-four colt smokes under my head
And I began to think what a deed I'd done
Grabbed my hat and away I run, made a good run, but a little too slow
They overtook me in Jericho
I'm standin' on the corner ringin' the bell
Along came the sheriff from Thomasville
Says "Young man, your name's Brown,
Remember the night you blew Sadie down?"
Oh, yes sir, my name is Lee,
I murdered little Sadie in the first degree
First degree and the second degree
Got any papers won't you read 'em to me.
They took me downtown all dressed in black
Put me on the train and sent me back
Sent me back to the county jail, I had nobody to go for my bail
The judge and the jury they took the stand
The judge hold the paper in his right hand
Forty-one days, forty-one nights,
Forty-one years to wear the ball and stripes

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I tend to think of action movies as exuberant morality plays in which good triumphs over evil.

quote by Sylvester Stallone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Viewing From a Wiser Angle

Why lead a group of people most corrupt?
Do they deserve a righteous man as boss?
Why sermon audience that can interrupt?
Unheeding to advice good is their loss!

Why waste one’s precious time on deafened ears?
Why waste one’s life reforming ‘criminals’?
Why live as alien, eating food with fears?
Some want the road-side and not urinals!

Why talk to men with tongues smoothened by lies?
Why guide the evil minds to do good deeds?
Why talk of God to foolish atheist guys?
Good fruits appear in plants grown from good seeds!

Sometimes, ’tis good to stay a rung lower!
Corrupt can’t stay for long in much power!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-23-2006

poem by John Celes
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Failures Are Temporary

failures are temporary
heartbreaks can even be short
if you care enough
for love
of yourself and your friends
we all fall
and we shall all fall again
despite two waking vigilant eyes
and cautioned hands

and so is happiness and success and triumphs
and conquests of your fears
the ecstasies
and joys and what have you that makes you
feel

eternity, tell me when have you learned
this illusion
of yourself feeling eternity, a glimpse
of God, tell me, tell me, describe it to me

today, i can tell you the difference
between all these temporary things, and places and events,
and this eternity that i feel,

it is you, your face that i see that i touch
is this the face of God?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ain’t We Baby

Ain’t we got a good thing going, honey
Ain’t we, ain’t we baby
Ain’t we got a fine little pair of young, uns
Ain’t we, ain’t we baby
A cotton top boy and a blue-eyed girl
Prettiest things in this old world
Oh Baby, we got a good thing going

We got us a house out in the country
Got us a yard full of young pine trees
Got an old hound dog that’s full of fleas
And bushels of love and we’re living free
Oh Baby, we got a good thing going

We’re clearing land for a garden spot
Gonna have a bean and tomater crop
Raise a couple of hogs, we’ll have ham to eat
And next winter we won’t buy groceries
Oh Baby, we got a good thing going

Ain’t we got a good thing going, Honey
Ain’t we, Ain’t we Baby
Ain’t we got a fine little pair of young’uns
Ain’t we, Ain’t we Baby
A cotton top boy and a blue-eyed girl
Prettiest things in this old world
Oh Baby, we got a good thing going

Copyright: C R Clark -April,1976

poem by C.R. Clark
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Forever Young

(r. stewart/j.cregan/k.savigar)
May the good lord be with you
Down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
Surround you when youre far from home
And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true
And do unto others
As youd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart youll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to heaven
With a prince or a vagabond
And may you never love in vain
And in my heart you will remain
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young
Forever young
And when you finally fly away
Ill be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose
Im right behind you, win or lose
Forever young, forever young
Forever young ,forever young
Forever young, forever young
For, forever young, forever young

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thought I Cannot Complete

The thought I cannot complete,
This is the thought I cannot complete,
The thought of the life I lead,
The thought of the wonderful world I live in.

Thinking am I worth living in this precious world which we destroy for our survival,
Are we born to rule on this earth or are we born to serve on this earth.

Are we born to control the nature we cannot conserve, is this really the free world they claim to be, are we yet understanding the meaning of life.

This is the thought I cannot complete,
They say the brain is intellectual yet others believe money is power and so we claim to live in the free world we cannot afford.

I used to think religion is an individual belief though now I got caught in the world where i'm forced to believe even the fabricate religion yet I stand none credulous.

Does resurrection exist nor heaven and hell we told we will reach according to our good and evil deeds, or will I perish so the young soul shall be born,
This are the thoughts I cannot complete.

poem by Sefofane Shabalala
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Evil Against The Good

The game unquestionably harsh
Started the day we were born
Out of me God created the best
Out of me evil wants
To recreate the worst
An infant between life and death
Not yet time to escape by losing breath
The game just began for the young one

The game unquestionably harsh
Dark streets and rough childhood
Experience of an adverse neighborhood
Got him trapped under the belly of the beast
Evil encounters sinking in the young head
Thoughts of the good lad decaying
The game heading for the climax

The game unquestionably harsh
Thought I would be good forever
Evil troops changed me for a sinner
Got addicted to the harmful world
Young days of ours full of madness
Got my own demons and so fearless
The game has ambushed us under stress

The game unquestionably harsh
Work of the young man is to daydream
Run the best imaginary world as possible
Managing mind tries the impossible
Fantasy world will never be reality
Perhaps the dream just a prophesy
The game plays tricks in the young mind

The game unquestionably harsh
It is play on the day we are born
Even before us it was playing
As we see more days we get played
Evil rules the planet earth
Good rules the purest heaven
The game is on until the end of times.

***The Book of End of Times

poem by Young Church
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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 09: Interlude

The days, the nights, flow one by one above us,
The hours go silently over our lifted faces,
We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea.
Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together.
We sleep, we wake, we laugh, we pursue, we flee.

We sit at tables and sip our morning coffee,
We read the papers for tales of lust or crime.
The door swings shut behind the latest comer.
We set our watches, regard the time.

What have we done? I close my eyes, remember
The great machine whose sinister brain before me
Smote and smote with a rhythmic beat.
My hands have torn down walls, the stone and plaster.
I dropped great beams to the dusty street.

My eyes are worn with measuring cloths of purple,
And golden cloths, and wavering cloths, and pale.
I dream of a crowd of faces, white with menace.
Hands reach up to tear me. My brain will fail.

Here, where the walls go down beneath our picks,
These walls whose windows gap against the sky,
Atom by atom of flesh and brain and marble
Will build a glittering tower before we die . . .

The young boy whistles, hurrying down the street,
The young girl hums beneath her breath.
One goes out to beauty, and does not know it.
And one goes out to death.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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There Is No Such A Thing As A Truly Evil Person

There is no such a thing as a truly evil person though some in their life's journey have gone wrong
The worst of criminals do have some good in them not everyone can be mentally pure and mentally strong
Some morally damaged from their tough upbringing life's circumstance condemns them to a life of crime
They spent their teenage years on poverty street homeless and behind prison bars they spend their prime,
Not everyone are born to good parents in life they never did have a fair chance
Inlucky enough never to have a fair go the victims of the cruelest circumstance
'Tis easy for some for to be judgemental some seem to enjoy putting others down
But these people can count themselves lucky that they were not born on the poor side of the town
Where it is near impossible to become a success and where the majority are destined for to lose
Reminds me of a Native American saying never judge one until you walk in their shoes
'Tis easy so easy to call one evil as words are so easy to say
But hear no evil speak no evil a saying I recall from a very long bygone day
There is no such a thing as a truly evil person all children they are born free of sin
But human life is not unlike a horse race many must lose for one to have a win.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Write Me

Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.

song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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African Boy

I am a young African boy
A unique individual with my own personal inspiration
Which is the golden key to build my future.
With a mind confused
I can still reach politely to others.
With a heart that's has been destroyed
I can still feel and care for others.

With pain that has cut deep down in my heart
I can still fell sympathy for others. with all that is in me I can still overcome those situations.
I can be a person I am
The one whose heart is filled with joy and passion.

I am a young African boy.
I'm proud of my black badged African skin.
I am an African
Not because I was born here
But because my heart beats with Africa.
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa.
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa.

When Africa weeps for her children
My chicks are stained with tears.
When Africa honor her elders
My head is bowed with respect.
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer.

Africa my home
Africa my land
Land of peace
Land of my forefathers
Land of my birth
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing.

poem by Elvis Fout
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Peggy

Peggy said good morning and I said good bye,
When farmers dib the corn and laddies sow the rye.
Young Peggy's face was common sense and I was rather shy
When I met her in the morning when the farmers sow the rye.

Her half laced boots fit tightly as she tripped along the grass,
And she set her foot so lightly where the early bee doth pass.
Oh Peggy was a young thing, her face was common sense,
I courted her about the spring and loved her ever thence.

Oh Peggy was the young thing and bonny as to size;
Her lips were cherries of the spring and hazel were her eyes.
Oh Peggy she was straight and tall as is the poplar tree,
Smooth as the freestone of the wall, and very dear to me.

Oh Peggy's gown was chocolate and full of cherries white;
I keep a bit on't for her sake and love her day and night.
I drest myself just like a prince and Peggy went to woo,
But she's been gone some ten years since, and I know not what to do.

poem by John Clare
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Before Exile

HERE is my last good-bye,
This side the sea.
Good-bye! good-bye! good-bye!
Love me, remember me.

This is my last good-bye,
This side the sea.
I bless, I pledge, I cling,
Love me, remember me.

This is my last good-bye
To each dear tree,
To every silent plain,
Love me, remember me.

This is my last good-bye,
This side the sea.
O friends! O enemies!
Love me, remember me.

You will remain, but I
Must cross the sea.
My heart is faint with love,
O Land! remember me.

You will not even ask
What claim has she.
She loved us, she has gone…
’Tis all, remember me.

This is what you will say,
My Land across the sea,
She was of us, has gone…
And you’ll remember me.

Here is my last good-bye
This side the sea.
Farewell! and when you can,
Love me, remember me.

poem by Louise Mack
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