How Evil Regenerates Perpetuates
No answer is found
to comfort dying cries.
Evil conspires to flourish
as plague sweeping diseased
spores into welcoming pores.
Harboured nurtured developed
growing with power-crests.
Engulfing blackness rides carries
devastates all before selected.
When events happen rage rapidly rabid.
Definitively remain beyond comprehension.
Everything appears becomes threats.
A lifetime of critical injury can be imaged.
Concentrated raged. Into one blow. Murderous.
An extract from the poem ‘Stone Cross’.85? 87?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Stone Cross
Read weep moan marvel
at drover’s driven dross
while too few sincerely mourn
a far greater terrifying loss;
heartfelt chosen selected life
stone pledged; final solution cross.
Look with compassion upon
shadows bespeaking suffering
sea saved floatsam full stark
face affirming agonized affliction
unveiled herded branded inhumanity
industrialized mechanical process
is more demonically tumultuous
than heaven’s hosts could abide stand
view with nerve frayed stringent
wrenching gutted angelic perfect heart
final fatal fallen orb unleashed depravity
inflicted with whipped screaming insensitivity
without window-dressing a barbaric cruelty
within frosted protective polemics’ mad mind.
Two naked tears screaming come
one for each soulless sightless
eye in streams fevered form
flow from lifeless victim eyes
down hollow gaunt sunken cheeks
years cannot infliction fathom
depths disparaging indentured
genocidal indulgence ghost look
such eyes dread soul expires dies.
Candle snuffed no longer brightly burns
within sensation saturation sodden injured.
Human-less spirit fragmented untouchable
body flexes feeling of a trauma chronic kind.
In another age time another pyre place agonized
beyond measure-able distance far away stretched
crimes committed surpass comprehension civilized
forgiveness murdered discarded remains unquestioned
mounds of broken coke carbon fuel cooked oven bones
pre-cooked unto oblivion new dust cremated termite mounds
mounds lie piled still an aging testament to craven third Reich.
Lining bone manured rows
where giant cabbages
once in time did grow.
Lust bloated bodies juices
souls squeezed spoke mutely
as they devoured dribbled
down demon grinning chins
of Schutzstaffel SS guards
in erected extermination camps.
How did we get here?
From gentle comfort
of a woman’s womb.
Why is it. Evil has survived?
In changing kaleidoscope.
Hatching hideous patterns.
Acid answer is found
in interchanging megalomaniac;
effacing emotion, feeling, locked
within (fragile fragmented)
soul aspiring human heart.
Propaganda. Self serving philosophy
practiced by virulent vermin
who profit manufacture war.
Sole purpose propelling life
destruction. Holocaust.
A man responsible for death
dehumanizing millions.
Killer keywords victim.
In search sowing suffering.
Sleeping conscience abated.
Boundary; blindness, hate, fear. Nationalism.
Arsenal; clubs, whips, violent tension.
Threat. Is trigger stimulant mind controlled.
Cry Freedom Now. Bullet lacks morals.
Sane silence more oppressive than organized outcry.
Hate breeds hate epidemically.
Hate for all things all life.
A soul in chains sieves conspiracy.
Feels all things conspire against self.
Destroy Destroy All Forever.
From face of earth. Strike Strike
All Everything Down. Every Last
Man Woman Child. Animal Bug.
Destroy every City every Tower
every Dwelling. Break every Stone
standing on another. Destroy Destroy
Still. Still it is not Enough. Destroy.
Ruins surround and confront.
Glaring accusations athirst sight.
Charred ruins like convulsed minds.
Victims suffer slaughtered over centuries.
Impaled linger transfixed. Slowly agonizingly die.
No answer is found
to comfort dying cries.
Evil conspires to flourish
as plague sweeping diseased
spores into welcoming pores.
Harboured nurtured developed
growing with power-crests.
Engulfing blackness rides carries
devastates all before selected.
When events happen rage rapidly rabid.
Definitively remain beyond comprehension.
Everything appears becomes threats.
A lifetime of critical injury can be imaged.
Concentrated raged. Into one blow. Murderous.
Though a few nations
heaped verbal venom
scorn upon Hitler. Powerful
demon voice was never stilled.
Even when crippled weakened.
Presence arrested
vibrations external forces.
Unfettered realm
pervades creative analysis.
Time past contracting into present
vortex flux existent continuation inflicted pain.
Carrion birds came fed off rotting.
Living Corpses. Diseased minds like worms
ate as leeches each life holding vein.
Exploited solution washes polluted chemically.
No fresh water flows down such shower drains.
Cries agonized voices torn apart
as nails claw shred concrete walls.
Re-cemented every three wipe-out weeks.
Flesh compressed confined sealed gassed chambers
choked entangled in streams secluding blood.
Children weeping last heard mockery echo.
Reaching for clinging shredding. Bare skirt-less legs.
Collective Guilt Is Groundless.
Guilt is individual as is salvation.
Collective guilt cannot enforced be
laid upon innocence preadolescent.
Vengeance reparations cause wars?
No indictment exists
nor means rationally
for law creating crime
as collective nations
shame blame guilt.
Penalty culpability
regret responsibility
admissions of evils
For the Indictment
of an entire nation.
Least free-born blood
of race righteousness.
Condemned in error.
Cry out from ground
in accusation against us.
Evil must be cleansed
to source malignant.
Before humanity can
collectively throw off. Weight
cavitation chains walk free.
Populations held down bound
in propaganda ignorance hate.
Tyrants proud walk among us.
Living on not as illegal outcasts.
But as charismatic nation leaders.
Cherished denizens. Wielding
strength of demonic disguised
power. Only low. Less cunning
dogs. Are seen face recognized
for who they soul sold do bow.
Throughout human choice ages
have corrupt dark souls misruled.
Then in ages past as present now.
Smearing their mislead Nations.
With individual temptation evil.
As they hostage hold Our World.
In perpetuity. Before
image of the beast.
Until Har-Magedon.
Populations. Are not evil
in conscience themselves.
Though individual evil.
Can overcome a people.
Transform a sane nation.
With propaganda blinded.
Mind putty clay controlled
is shaped at dictator’s will.
Goose-steps into oblivion.
Siddharta Gautama states.
‘To understand everything
is to forgive everything.’
Yet there are amoral men
whose heinous crimes
surpass comprehension.
Therefore forgiveness.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written 1985? 1987? See also The Holocaust Files!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A dream can be nurtured over years and years and then flourish rapidly. . . . Be patient. It will happen for you. Sooner or later, life will get weary of beating on you and holding the door shut on you, and then it will let you in and throw you a real party
Blow, Bugle, Blow
THE splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Nazi Evolution Vile: Carbon Monoxide Gas To Zyklon-B
Exploited solution washes
polluted chemically.
No fresh water flows
down such shower drains.
Cries agonized voices
torn shredded apart
as victim human nails
claw shred concrete walls.
Walls re-cemented every
three wipe-out weeks.
Flesh selected compressed
confined sealed gassed chambers
choked entangled in streams
secluding solution blood.
Children weeping last
heard sentry mockery echo.
Reaching for clinging
shredding. Bare skirt-less legs.
A modified extract from the poem ‘Stone Cross’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Splendor Falls
The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
O love they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field, or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow forever and forever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Weight of the Wind
The wind carries much more than we see
It carries a lot of what makes you and me
The wind blows and carries lies
Around the world it carries cries
We don't hear nor see any of these things
We don't know or feel what the wind brings
The wind carries the wishes and dreams
The wind carries promises down streams
On it lays our secrets we hold inside
Also the love for others we try to hide
It carries so much oh how I wish to know
With all that weight how can the wind blow?
poem by Mathew Welch
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When Satanic Power Ruled A Third Reich
In another age time another pyre place agonized
beyond measure-able distance far away stretched
crimes committed surpass comprehension civilized
forgiveness murdered discarded remains unquestioned
mounds of broken coke carbon fuel cooked oven bones
pre-cooked unto oblivion new dust cremated termite mounds
mounds lie piled still an aging testament to craven third Reich.
An extract from the poem ‘Stone Cross’.85? 87?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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None So Beautiful
Well theres a cross on the hill where the ragweed has grown
Where a mothers young son sleeps all alone
All for the land that he dreamed he could save
Yeah, theres none so beautiful as the brave
Oh, theres a stone in the meadow with all the weight of the world
Where the flowers are watered by the brown eyes of a girl
She cries for the life that her one true love gave
Yeah, theres none so beautiful as the brave
None so beautiful as the boy who cries freedom
None so beautiful as the voice that carries far
None so strong as love beyond all reason that fears no evil
Undaunted by the dark or any wicked mans heart
Oh theres a cross on a hill where no steeple bells ring
A shrine with no name where little children sing to the rhythm that rocks us
From the cradle to the grave
Yeah, theres none so beautiful
Oh, theres none so beautiful
Oh, theres none so beautiful as the brave
Theres none so beautiful as the brave
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem of the Afternoon
THE POEM OF THE AFTERNOON
The poem of the afternoon
Long and drawn out
Does not know why it is written
And what its true name is.
It does not ask or answer
Remember or remain
It simply appears
And disappears
As if its writing
Were yet
One more way of
Just being in the world
And passing its light.
The poem of the afternoon
Does not know why it is
Or why it should be
But now that it is here
It looks out at the trees
Through the sun of its pages
And prepares itself to be read and reread
As if someone somewhere
Searches and sees it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Psalm 109
v.1-5,31
C. M.
Love to enemies from the example of Christ.
God of my mercy and my praise,
Thy glory is my song,
Though sinners speak against thy grace
With a blaspheming tongue.
When in the form of mortal man
Thy Son on earth was found,
With cruel slanders, false and vain,
They compassed him around.
Their miseries his compassion move,
Their peace he still pursued;
They render hatred for his love,
And evil for his good.
Their malice raged without a cause,
Yet, with his dying breath,
He prayed for murderers on his cross,
And blessed his foes in death.
Lord, shall thy bright example shine
In vain before my eyes?
Give me a soul akin to thine,
To love my enemies.
The Lord shall on my side engage,
And, in my Savior's name,
I shall defeat their pride and rage
Who slander and condemn.
poem by Isaac Watts
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An Aged Man's Poem
An aged man’s poem
Need not rage;
Peace and quiet
Calm the page-
Courage in sickness
And through pain-
Loving kindness
For all who remain.
Words of comfort
For longtime friends -
Resignation
Before the end.
An aged’s man’s poem
Should hopefully be
Blessing and Trust
In Eternity-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poem Is Not The Answer To Everything
A POEM IS NOT THE ANSWER TO EVERYTHING
A poem is not the answer to everything-
Perhaps it is not the answer to anything
Though I wouldn't take it that far-
There have been times
When a poem was the answer-
Many times
A poem written by someone else
A poem I tried to write by myself-
Poems can be an answer
Perhaps not for most things
Perhaps not for all the major things
But for moods and pains and feeling
And desire for Beauty
Poems can be answers at time-
A poem is not really the answer to my problem of the moment now
But it is an answer of a kind anyway
Thank God for poems and for this poem also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dear Lifetime
Dear lifetime
Dear lifetime
Listen to me
Are you standing, waiting for me?
Are you running, will you follow me?
Dear lifetime
Answer me
What will remain of us?
Remain of us
Chorus:
I wont turn around, I will wait
I can run away, I will stay
Was I born with loneliness to die?
Was I born with loneliness to die?
Youve died before
And you nestled in against
Against my chest
I feel ashamed, you sound so cold
I feel ashamed, your blood is old
Chorus
I laid down my soul so you could see
I had no identity
I drowned in my homemade loneliness
And died of the thirst of my selfishness
Chorus
Dear lifetime, dear lifetime, dear lifetime
Chorus
You sound so cold, I feel ashamed
Your blood is old
Dear lifetime, dear lifetime, dear lifetime, dear lifetime
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Away, Melancholy
Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.
Are not the trees green,
The earth as green?
Does not the wind blow,
Fire leap and the rivers flow?
Away melancholy.
The ant is busy
He carrieth his meat,
All things hurry
To be eaten or eat.
Away, melancholy.
Man, too, hurries,
Eats, couples, buries,
He is an animal also
With a hey ho melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.
Man of all creatures
Is superlative
(Away melancholy)
He of all creatures alone
Raiseth a stone
(Away melancholy)
Into the stone, the god
Pours what he knows of good
Calling, good, God.
Away melancholy, let it go.
Speak not to me of tears,
Tyranny, pox, wars,
Saying, Can God
Stone of man's thoughts, be good?
Say rather it is enough
That the stuffed
Stone of man's good, growing,
By man's called God.
Away, melancholy, let it go.
Man aspires
To good,
To love
Sighs;
Beaten, corrupted, dying
In his own blood lying
Yet heaves up an eye above
Cries, Love, love.
It is his virtue needs explaining,
Not his failing.
Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go
poem by Stevie Smith
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That Temptation To Be Teased
Hopeful and forgiving.
With a wish to remain positive...
Can produce the correct effect,
If a concentrated effort...
From just one mind is projected.
The selling of negativity,
Has increased in volumes of it sold.
There are more willing to accept this direction...
Than there are those remaining brave,
With a faith that is bold.
Hopeful and forgiving.
With a wish to remain positive...
Can produce the correct effect,
If a concentrated effort...
From just one mind is projected.
With a commitment to release from it...
That temptation to be teased.
That temptation that creates,
A believed remedy will instantly...
Premanently please.
'Not so.'
Say those who know,
That a reaping of negativity...
Sewn,
Is what can be expected...
For one to see flourish to grow.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dying Concerto
~This is a poem about the Holocaust~
Imagine it- the last, sad song of a violin and violinist pair.
Believe it- the dead's melancholy grin.
Trust it- we know the reasons why-
Access Denied!
We’re all walking,
To a single song,
A song a lifetime away from birth,
The Dying Concerto,
Write in-between the lines! !
One must die for the other to live,
Greater good, greater good,
One must live or we all will die.
We all walk,
To a single song,
A song a lifetime away from birth,
The Dying Concerto,
God left with it too.
Messiah, if you let them burn than surely shall I!
Save my brethren.
Who’s your God now?
Twisted cross bearers,
Controlling the crowd.
poem by Nicholas Weaver
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Oh Life
[pack/parsons]
Waves roll out
Out to sea
Tasting the saltwater
Tears upon her cheek
Morning breaks
Shes not there
Who could ever find her?
Who would even care?
No one heard
No one came
No angel of mercy
Appears to know her name
Where is hope
When words fail
All the colours running
Inside when life turns pale
In the dock the boats are harboured
Where the waters cold and still
Oh life, she cries, Ive lost the will
From the bridge she sees a lifetime
Being washed upon the shore
Oh life, she cries
There must be more...
Tides roll in
Waters rise
Any chance of reason
Only clouds her eyes
Arms of grace
She wont feel
All the wounds inside her
That time can never heal
The city lights shine seaward
Swirling in a trance
Her eyes upon the water
Alone in her last dance
>from the docks the boats are leaving
As she cries into the dawn
Oh life, Im barely holding on
And she sees her future falling
Til it finds the ocean floor
Oh life, she cries
There must be more
There must be more
And with the early light
Shell sail into the clear
The winds are all behind her
The hours almost here
>from the bridge she hears the voices
Turn into a roar
Oh life she cries
There must be more
On the dock her soul is sinking
But her spirit longs to soar
Oh life, she cries
There must be more
There must be more
There must be more
Oh life Im barely holding on
There must be more
There must be more
Oh life there must be something more
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pussy Power
An evil shadow across my brain
A certain buring that makes me insane
Shes on my beam oh no shes in my room
Shes al around me now and Im a tool
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power
She wears a raincoat in the sun all day
She says she wants to have some fun, well, hey
She calls me over on the sidewalk
Shes got a joint, shes got a cute walk
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power-hour by hour
Pussy power oh what a flower
I want to hold her close to me
cause pussy powers pulling me
Down
Down
Down
Down
When its there and I cant have it
I get real real rabid
Ive got to figure out a way
Im so pent-up, like this I cant stay
Ive got to look this in the eye
Im much too crazed, Im much too shy
But all in all, at least I am i
Oh my oh my oh my oh my
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power
Pussy power
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Threats To Keep A People In Grief
How can we seek solutions...
When our denials love to bask,
In a pleasing done by deceit.
How can we non-fictionalize our lives,
When fiction is all we seek.
How can we ever expect to accept the truth,
When none of it is believed.
And how is a greatness once perceived,
So willing to feed decadence...
And allow conflict and division succeed.
All of these may be questions!
But the opportunity to answer them,
Become threats to keep a people in grief.
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Good and Evil
When I was a toddler I found that
What’s bad is evil, what’s good is good
And I don’t have a power to change that
When I was a teenager I found that
What’s bad is evil, what’s good is also evil
And I want a power to fight them all
Now I’m much older I find that
What’s bad is not purely evil, what’s good is not always innocent
And I don’t use a power to fight but my heart
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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