Wolves....
there are those, as usual,
wolves, in sheep's clothing,
but we who live in the castle
must learn to distinguish
we know, but we shall not act,
we dislike, but we shall associate,
we are kings, and we pity those
who are slaves of their envy,
servants of their
disappointments, still hungry
of their illimitable greed
must we, still, be gentle,
and meek as doves,
as we hold the breathes of
fire, beneath the restraints
of our tongues.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Hunger Strike
Temple Of The Dog) (New Castle, United Kingdom, 2/22/92)
I don't mind...
>From the mouth of decadence...
But I can't feed on the powerless when my cup's already overfilled...
But it's on the table, the fire's cookin'...
And the starvin' babies, and the slaves are out workin'...
But it's on the table, the mouths are chokin'...
But I'm goin' hungry...I'm goin' hungry...
I'm goin' hungry...I'm goin' hungry
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hungry Pity Pete, Five Days Long
'Pity' Pete, as hungry as he can be
Shot a patridge on a pear tree
And took home the fowl to roast
With rum he bought for a toast
It was winter and Peter had no coat
Nor a cosy home, but a shant by the dry moat
On his right arm were woods for fire
And in his left bills of hungry looking Peter
With a ransom on him alive
To any who catches him before the guards arrive
For Pete at every christmas is a menace
That made his Majesty wear all day a grimace
'Tis'' said Pete, ' an excellent meal
For one lonely soul down the cold dale
The meat such a sweet delight
With fire and rum to keep me warm all night
Then by morrow, straight to the castle for mercy
Will i go before his Majesty'
But what had 'Pity Pete' done, if you may ask
That all, the king now must task
To bring him to face so cruel a book
For his deeds in every shady nook
Lo! On the fifth day to christmas, i was told
Did Pete stole five gold rings, which he sold
Two for a new pair of boot, and for firewood
The rest, traded he for rum and food
On the forth day, when farmers were on their beds
Went Pity Pete to steal their birds
And on the third day, stole he more french fowls
Amidst the famers mounting growls
That made the king on the second day
Summoned both lords and commons without delay
To vote what punishment they must dole
Yet, that day still, two turtle doves he stole
Then on the last day to christmas, hungry as he can be
Shot a patridge on a pear tree
That made the kids, every christmas sing this song-
Hungry Pity Pete, five days long
Stole five gold rings
Four famers birds
Three french hens
Two turtle doves
And on christmas eve, shot he
A patridge on a pear tree!
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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The Sheep
The Sheep adorns the landscape rural
And is both singular and plural—
It gives grammarians the creeps
To hear one say, 'A flock of sheeps.'
The Sheep is gentle, meek and mild,
And led in herds by man or child—
Being less savage than the rabbit,
Sheep are gregarious by habit.
The Sheep grows wool and thus promotes
The making of vests, pants and coats—
Vests, pants and coats and woolen cloths
Provide good food for hungry moths.
With vegetables added to
The Sheep, we get our mutton stew—
Experiments long since revealed
The Sheep should first be killed and peeled.
Thus, with our debt to them so deep,
All men should cry 'Praise be for Sheep!'—
And, if we happen to be shepherds,
'Praise be they’re not as fierce as leopards!'
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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School Hierarchy
Like the harsh wind's howling
on a lonely summer night.
Wolves in sheeps' clothing prowling,
looking for innocent prey.
Hunting and killing,
taking more then they need,
simply out of Jealousy, Spite and Greed.
The innocent looks,
the violet bright eyes,
hiding the wolf in the sheep's 'guise.
Nobody notices until all is too late,
closing the door,
the thing they call fate.
They do not repent,
for they see no harm,
in the things they've done
like a useless cheap charm.
Learn they will not,
but hunt they will,
like the sun's setting,
bringing the winter chill.
Wolves are often hidden under sheep's clothing.
For KK
they call her genius
because she makes a lot of money
without having to exert
any effort, she plays with time
as though time is a
pet dog,
she uses a few words to
enforce her commandments of
greed
and what is surprising is this:
the robots
her slaves obey without question
reaping the fruits of
effortless greed
and offering all of these
in her tray of
luxury,
we who earned each penny
with honesty
do not watch her with envy
neither do we pray
for her eventual debris
we pity her well
for
at the end
her destiny is
hell...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time
A time to live, a time to die
and finally we learn the reason why
we came to earth in the first place.
We came to love and learn to erase
anything negative that came our way.
Jealousy, greed,
hatred and lies,
bitterness, envy
and all things unwise.
So each of the days you get to live
be thankful for and be sensitive
to everything that comes to you
and accept all the things that have made you blue.
For a time to live is your gift from God
and a time to die is a promenade
to an adventure we have forgotten about.
It will undo all your fears and all of your doubt.
For we are souls and now we're away from
Jealousy, greed,
hatred and lies,
bitterness, envy
and all things unwise
for
WE ARE LOVE.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits.
quote by Jesus Christ
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everywhere And Not Rare
They wish to project their beliefs on others,
To protect their own insecurities.
Cold shouldered and indifferent.
Distant and aloof participants,
In the passing judgement game.
They do not show their envy.
Just express it enough,
For that to be understood.
They don't realize their tasks are masked.
Or that they wear sheep clothing,
Bearing teeth like wolves.
They believe their fake smiles,
Keep them hidden in camouflage.
But anyone who has lived and learned...
Do not find them at all odd!
Not when façades like these...
Are determined to satisfy,
Only themselves to please!
And folks like these...
Are not few to spare.
They are here.
They are there.
They are everywhere,
And not rare!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lupus
The Lupus
Wolf, feared animal in folktales, is back in north Europe
it was eradicated, or so we thought, but they have been
observed in woodlands wiser than before, they don’t
like sheep and rabbits avoid humans and dislike dogs.
prefer deer though, and wild boars. As historians tell us
never did wolves kill man. But you can’t beat the power
of fairytales, they eat little children and prowling cats.
If this goes on hunters say there will be no wild animals
For us to kill, get rid of them “grey foot” is our enemy.
And dark tales fill the papers, a wolf has been observed
near a kindergarten, spots of lamb blood in the snow.
Wolves are always seen in the mist just like in folklores
Let’s kill them now before it is too late our children get
eaten by those shadowy four legged, satanic monsters.
A question remains thought, why don’t wolves like sheep?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Bomber Pilot: Partial Birth Abortionist
In America, 'pro-lifers' manipulated by wolves in sheep's clothing
support warwaging candidates who in dropping bombs become partial birth abortionists.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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A Society of Grazing Sheep
The herd meanders, searching for the green
Pastures that hide past distant mountaintops.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
The herd looks down, ignoring what they've seen.
They're too busy chewing grass to stop.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
The herd wanders only to convene
In the pursuit of inhaling more crops.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
They don't yet realize that hungry eyes
Guide them—that wolves are hiding in disguise.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Those Years Of Separation.....
years separated us
when we meet again there will
be usual questions like
how is life? did you marry?
how many kids? how old are they now?
where do you work?
where do you live now?
i am tired of all these questions,
frankly i am not interesting and nothing interests me
perhaps
i was made sour by all those years,
but sometimes i may compromise
(but not a civil as you may think me to be) and
so i have my answers now, like
life is not really that miserable.
i got married, no kids only dogs in the house
(not applicable) ,
oh i work with a gavel,
and i live in my navel.
perhaps i am just dissatisfied with what
life has given me,
and you who claim to have kids like grapes
work like heaven, house like a castle,
and you who is like a story with a
happily ever after ending,
well, thank God, you are like everybody else,
you own a wife, and kids and house,
yourself is multiplied, your face is xeroxed,
your wealth is not just well preserved but
progressed like
hell,
you have chattels and servants and perhaps slaves
and submarines and nuclear weapons,
you have a brand new car,
an excellent paycheck,
by all means, to my mind, you are a superhero
and you have everything
everything
and yet, oh well, just like rest of the people in this world
you are never, never contented, you still ask for more
how much? how long? how wide? no one knows.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Learn
I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone
I recommend walking around naked in your living room
Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
I recommend biting off more then you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free
Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
You grieve you learn
You choke you learn
You laugh you learn
You choose you learn
You pray you learn
You ask you learn
You live you learn
song performed by by Alanis Morissette from Jagged Little Pill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Displeasure of Selefkidis
Dimitrios Selefkidis was displeased
to learn that a Ptolemy
had reached Italy in such a squalid state:
poorly dressed and on foot,
only three or four slaves. This way
their dynasty will become a joke,
the laughter of Rome.
Selefkidis of course knows
that basically even now they've become something like
servants
to the Romans; he also knows
that the Romans give and take away
their thrones arbitrarily, as they please.
But they should maintain a certain dignity
at least in their appearance;
they shouldn't forget that they are still kings,
are still (alas) called kings.
This is why Dimitrios Selefkidis was displeased;
and right away he offered Ptolemy
purple robes, a magnificent diadem,
precious jewels, numerous servants and retainers,
his most expensive horses,
so that he might present himself at Rome as he should,
as an Alexandrian Greek monarch.
But Ptolemy, who'd come to beg,
knew his business and refused it all:
he didn't have the slightest need for these luxuries.
Shabbily dressed, humble, he entered Rome,
put himself up in the house of a minor artisan,
and then presented himself
as a poor, ill-fated creature to the Senate
in order to make his begging more effective.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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A Hollow Nothing
While the raging fire burns down the earth
I cocoon myself beside an imaginary hearth
Dreaming of rains to douse the fire
‘It won’t be there’, my hopes aspire!
While the tides sweep lives away
I imagine I can forever stay
Hidden from the tongues in lashing motion
Beneath a placid and protective ocean!
While the storm roars and the gale hisses
I pray for God’s grace and good wishes
To save me come what season
‘I must live whatever the reason’!
Living thus in an imaginary land
Building castle in the drifting sand
I turn a moron selfish and mean
A hollow nothing beyond bone and skin!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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A Stone For Bread
Of a plenteous harvest with few labourers,
Of a man of deceit like a sheep without a shepherd;
It is a shame! But was Nimrod a Blackman? !
Many have done so without ending,
Like sheep in the midst of wolves!
But, was Hitler a Blackman? !
Everyone in the hand of his neighbour,
Like a stone for bread when one is hungry for food;
But let us try to see the other side of the Lake.
Like a snake for fish in this life,
Try to do what you wanted men to do for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Hell's Hungry Quire
Rush into the fire
as it rages higher
hear the building burn
hells own hungry quire
heat beyond belief
causing frantic grief
smoke makes you blind
flames above and beneath
everyone runs to hide
but you charge inside
despite all the risk
you wont be denied
peoples lives are at stake
weak walls burn and shake
not just your job, but your vow
lives this fire shall not take
fight against the fire
its situation dire
the hoses make it learn
youve denied hells hungry quire
***In dedication to all those brave fire fighters out there.***
poem by Spooky Mind
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A Loathing For Wolves In Sheep Clothing
Why should my disinterest shown in you,
Be now of your concern?
You kicked me to the curb to be among the elite.
And I've gotten over it; you and my feeling of self defeat.
Why can't you realize why we'll never see eye to eye?
I've known for too long,
There is something we have in common,
With a mutual respect I'd like to keep distanced.
You see...
You have a knack for initiating conflict.
And I have a loathing for wolves in sheep clothing.
If I can understand this why can't you keep this understood?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Winter Pack
The wolves run in the night
Searching for something thats just out of sight
They hunt together on this frigid winter's night
Searching for food that will take the hunger away
The alpha stops, followed by his pack
Along a frozen lake shore is an elk
Who plays alone in the deep winter snow
The wolves are hungry they're ready for attack
The wolves circle 'round without a sound
The elk doesn't notice at all
One sharp yap and the wolves charge
The elk has fallen and tonight will be a feast
The alpha eats with hungry gazes upon him
When the rest of the pack eat it is time for sleep
But first the alpha howls and it rises through the pack
This is not a mournful hungry howl, but a joyus happy one
The wolves go to sleep under the full moon
They are happy and filled with food
They dream dreams of the coming spring
When the toll of winter will leave this winter pack.
poem by Hannah Branz
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