Loyalty shades honesty
Being loyal to the queen, plunder;
You are spared.
Being honest to truth, thunder;
You are punished.
Fools are moral bound
13.12.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Causes for wrath
Loyal to the throne,
One gets away with his crime.
On pricking the throne,
One is caught for blame,
And gets punished.
Not for one’s crime
But for king’s displeasure,
One is taken to task
25,11,2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An American Prayer
I’m gonna kill, rape and plunder
cause I do what I’m told to do.
My government would never lie,
so I do what I’m told to do.
There are little, brown people
who want to hurt me and you;
so I kill, rape and plunder
and do what I’m told to do.
Well, I kill, rape and plunder
so the rich get what they’re due.
I shut my ears to the screams
of the children that I've slew.
Well, they’re just godless heathens
who don’t believe in good like me and you;
It’s alright to kill’em
before they kill me and you.
They hate us for our freedoms-
not because we bomb them night and day
or starve them into submission-
it’s our Christian duty that we slay.
And so I kill, rape and plunder
and do what I’m told to do
cause I’m a loyal American
and I do what God tells me to.
poem by Kendall Thomas
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A fool's game
It was a fool's game that should not begin
And you played it without honest rules
If you thought that you will always win
Well it's wrong 'cause it's a game for fools
If you thought that you can get me easy
And you tried to do this without honest rules
If you thought that my way to be is sleazy
Well it's wrong 'cause it's a game for fools
If you thought that you can hunt me slowly
And you danced this without honest rules
If you thought that I will love you only
Well it's wrong 'cause it's a game for fools
It was a morbid dance without real feelings
A dance of wishes without honest rules
If you thought that love means mutual dealings
Well it's wrong 'cause it's a game for fools
If you thought that you will be a winer
In this love fight without honest rules
If you thought I'm a cake at your dinner
Well it's wrong 'cause it's a game for fools
And if you thought you can get everything
In this world of yours without honest rules
If you thought that I'm an easy stupid thing
Well it's wrong 'cause it's a game for fools.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Loyalists Get Crowns Or Thorns
Being loyal is like a child
Clinging fast to its mother's hand.
It is a survival instinct,
Which honesty cannot command.
One is loyal for a target.
Loyalty is task specific,
Time bound and space bound in approach.
In its place enters no mercy.
Being loyal undermines shame,
Defers logic, ignores justice
And works against one's conscience.
A loyalist might succeed or succumb.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Royal Review
All hail to the Empress of India, Great Britain's Queen--
Long may she live in health, happy and serene--
That came from London, far away,
To review the Scottish Volunteers in grand array:
Most magnificent to be seen,
Near by Salisbury Crags and its pastures green,
Which will long be remembered by our gracious Queen--
And by the Volunteers, that came from far away,
Because it rain'd most of the day.
And with the rain their clothes were wet all through,
On the 25th day of August, at the Royal Review.
And to the Volunteers it was no lark,
Because they were ankle deep in mud in the Queen's Park,
Which proved to the Queen they were loyal and true,
To ensure such hardships at the Royal Review.
Oh! it was a most beautiful scene
To see the Forfarshire Artillery matching past the Queen:
Her Majesty with their steady marching felt content,
Especially when their arms to her they did present.
And the Inverness Highland Volunteers seemed verygran',
And marched by steady to a man
Amongst the mud without dismay,
And the rain pouring down on them all the way.
And the bands they did play, God Save the Queen,
Near by Holyrood Palace and the Queen's Park so green.
Success to our noble Scottish Volunteers!
I hope they will be spared for many long years,
And to Her Majesty always prove loyal and true,
As they have done for the second time at the Royal Review.
To take them in general, they behaved very well,
The more that the rain fell on them pell-mell.
They marched by Her Majesty in very grand array,
Which will be remembered for many a long day,
Bidding defiance to wind and rain,
Which adds the more fame to their name.
And I hope none of them will have cause to rue
The day that they went to the Royal Review.
And I'm sure Her Majesty ought to feel proud,
And in her praise she cannot speak too loud,
Because the more that it did rain they did not mourn,
Which caused Her Majesty's heart with joy to burn,
Because she knew they were loyal and true
For enduring such hardships at the Royal Review.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Speed Queen
1) I like green grass and I like pontiacs
I like cheap clothes and boys thatll never know
When the wind blows, I smell el porto
So I keep cigarettes, down in my panty hose
And I roll like thunder
2) Ive got a fairlane, I drive with my dog flame
Hes got a red scarf and we sell cocaine
I smoke mistys, and I got red knees
I sweat hair gel, when I do the hard sell
And we roll like thunder
Chorus -
Speed queen
Speed queen
3) I like young things and I like cheap flings
Flame likes pinball so we hang at the shopping mall
I run red lights, stay out all night
So when I get busted, remember who you trusted
And that we rolled like thunder
Chorus -
Speed queen
Speed queen
Speed queen
Speed queen
song performed by by Zuba
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Statue of Our Queen
PRIDE, selfishness in every line,
And on its face a frown,
It stands, a sceptre in its hand,
And points forever down.
And who will kneel? The unemployed!
Small homage pay, I ween,
The only men who gather ’neath
The Statue of our Queen.
I’d scarcely wonder if the sun,
That rises with good grace,
Should sink and leave the day undone
At sight of such a face.
But no! The day will still have birth
In all its golden sheen,
When antiquarians unearth
The Statue of our Queen.
Then if you’d have us loyal bide
As we have loyal been,
Great Parkes! for love of England, hide
The Statue of our Queen.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Truth or Lie
The Truth
a word of respect
a word of courage at times
hard to define, hard to detect
Showing love
compassion and care
to be honest and humble
to be just and fair
To be right
to be honest above all
to tell the Truth at last
to tell the Truth over all
...But to lie
to show deceit
to be dishonest
or to tel incomplete
To hurt or harm
with words untrue
to say wrong things
that you will rue
To be honest
to tell the Truth always
no shame, no deceit
to be honest always
poem by Kellsey Hartmann
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Honesty verses loyalty
Loyalty is being honest to a person;
Honesty is being loyal to a cause.
Loyalty is being faithful
And honesty, being virtuous.
Kumbakarna was loyal;
Vibhishna was honest.
The world is run by loyalty
Rather than by honesty.
07.09.2009
[Kumbakarna and Vibhishna are yonger brothers of King Ravana in the Hindu epic Ramayana.]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Down Under
Traveling in a fried-out combie
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said,
Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.
Buying bread from a man in brussels
He was six foot four and full of muscles
I said, do you speak-a my language?
He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich
And he said,
I come from a land down under
Where beer does flow and men chunder
Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.
Lying in a den in bombay
With a slack jaw, and not much to say
I said to the man, are you trying to tempt me
Because I come from the land of plenty?
And he said,
Oh! do you come from a land down under? (oh yeah yeah)
Where women glow and men plunder?
Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Land Down Under
Men at work
Down Under
Traveling in a fried-out combie
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said,
"Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover."
Buying bread from a man in Brussels
He was six foot four and full of muscle
I said, "Do you speak-a my language?"
He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich
And he said,
"I come from a land down under
Where beer does flow and men chunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover."
Lying in a den in Bombay
With a slack jaw, and not much to say
I said to the man, "Are you trying to tempt me
Because I come from the land of plenty?"
And he said,
"Oh! Do you come from a land down under? (oh yeah yeah)
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Renegade
I am cast out, condemned to be
a wanderer in the wilderness
with every man my enemy.
My only crime was to express.
What I believe to be the truth
contrary to the churches view
Although theyoffer men no proof.
Because the see no reason to.
I am expected to accept
and to obey their rigid rules
Follow blindly their precept
like all the other trusting fools.
But I rebelled I could not see
that what they taught must be correct.
I was accused of heresy
They had their regime to protect.
And so they prosecuted me
They said it was self evident
I denied their authority.
I must be punished and repent.
When I refused they cast me out
from their hidebound community.
Merely because I chose to doubt
what they believed the truth to be.
I could not be a hypocrite
and simply pay lip service to
what they demanded as their right.
Accept their faith as being true.
I am an outcast but I’m free
to worship God in my own way
As every man was meant to be.
I’m happy that I broke away.
From their hide bound rigidity
I have my conscience to obey
I find that is enough for me
I do not fear that I will stray.
Far from the path that’s meant for me.
I listen to my conscience speak
and I walk on triumphantly.
To find the truth a man must seek..
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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To die as great
Own a house, men and business.
Have kin and friends in good humour.
Spend on women and poor neigbours.
Rob and plunder as much to do all these.
Yes, you must die as great, no doubt.
22.06.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Status evaporates in bed
One to one when man and woman
meet
With desire, their status evaporates.
A maid is a queen to the king in bed
And a slave, a king to the queen in bed.
28.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The King and the God
Now I was punished for no crime.
Once I was spared for my crime.
The king has erred in both the case.
But the God will not err like that.
(15.06.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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No escape from instincts
I pay debts, not as much as I could
But as much as I preferred.
I am honest, not as much as I should
But as much as it suited.
I am chaste, not as much as I desire
But as much as I fear.
I speak truth, not as much as I ought to
But as much as I dare.
No moral teachings will save me
From my instinctual acts.
27.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The VIP Visitor
The Queen had visitors that day,
'twas Howard, John, head of Down Under.
She asked him 'would it be okay
if prior to the storm and thunder
which is expected early eve
that you and I, the Royal Queen
take with the carriage our leave,
to make the rounds and thus be seen.
The commoners enjoy the sight.
So they went off,8 shiny horses
she talked and Howard thought he might
bring up the subject of divorces
because he was a nosy man.
The Queen was steering with much skill
when suddenly, near number ten
the leading horse, his name was Will
released a cloud of toxic gas
which, in the company of thunder
had come out of the horse's ass
and scared the Aussie from Down Under.
'Oh, pardon me', the Queen exclaimed
' it is an unexpected force',
says Howard: 'Do not be ashamed,
at first I thought it was the horse.'
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Sonnet XXII: With Fools and Children
To Folly
With fools and children, good discretion bears;
Then, honest people, bear with Love and me,
Nor older yet, nor wiser made by years,
Amongst the rest of fools and children be;
Love, still a baby, plays with gauds and toys,
And, like a wanton, sports with every feather,
And idiots still are running after boys,
Then fools and children fitt'st to go together.
He still as young as when he first was born,
No wiser I than when as young as he;
You that behold us, laugh us not to scorn;
Give Nature thanks you are not such as we.
Yet fools and children sometimes tell in play
Some, wise in show, more fools indeed than they.
poem by Michael Drayton
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It is for one to decide
They kill
They cheat
They deceive
Makes others cry
They smile
They Forget
They have to reply
To the lord above
Where no one is
Spared
Rewarded or punished
For the deeds
Committed
One has to go
Either to heaven
Or to hell
It is for one to decide
Where the journey
Should end
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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