What The Poet Was Telling Himself In 1848
You mustn't seek out power, mustn't grab the helm
Your work lies elsewhere, spirit of another realm,
In innocence withdraw before this moment here.
Lover of thought in mourning both sweet and severe-,
Disdained or understood by men still you must live
Shepherd for their tending, priest to blessings give.
When citizens embittered by their misery,
Sons of the same France and of the same Paris,
Slit one another's throats; when at each corner loom
Barricades just sprung up, sinister, wrapped in gloom
Rising, vomiting death at once and everywhere
Though unarmed and alone you must simply go there;
Must in this vile, awful and unholy war show
Your chest, your heart, you have to let your spirit flow,
To speak, to pray, to save both the weak and the strong,
To smile under fire and weep for the dead now gone;
Then to rise, calm, to your place in isolation
And to defend within the fervent collocation
Those that it would judge or from society eject,
To overturn the scaffold, to serve and to protect
The order and the peace that rash actors have shaken,
And our soldiers - by the little general taken,
And the man of the people sent to the asylum,
And the laws, and also our sad and proud freedom;
To offer consolation, at this fateful day,
To the divine art that shudders, weeps, and to stay
Awaiting for the rest the moment decisive.
Your role is to inform and to remain pensive.
poem by Victor Hugo
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Related quotes
I'll Brave The Day
I’m on my own,
alone.
But I mustn’t let it get me down,
I mustn’t frown.
A smile is the order of the day,
I should obey.
It’s hard though, one often feels low.
What can I do,
it’s so easy to feel blue,
when there’s no one to lend an ear,
no one to hear.
The tears can come, it matters little now,
and I’ll manage somehow,
to move along.
I’ll try to stay strong,
now I’m on my own,
alone.
I try not to think,
or my heart would sink.
So I’ll brave the day,
he would want it that way.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Freedom Lies
Freedom, theres more to your life so now[? ]
Old laws, man has made only blind.
Oh, give us freedom, a call to the brave and the strong,
To stand in the face of all wrong and show the way.
Freedom lies, freedom lies, freedom lies.
Freedom to live out the dream in a song,
Give hope to the hearts of the young.
Oh, give us freedom to act out of love and not fear,
So all that is true will be clear.
Hear tomorrow, calling hold me, show me.
Freedom lies, freedom lies, freedom lies.
Freedom lies, freedom lies, freedom lies.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let The Pendulum Swing
Let the pendulum swing.
Let the old guard surrender
It is a new day, a new world,
A new language I wish to speak
The language of love
May I have the words I need to speak my truth,
To translate my heart and my vision
To my beloved and his children
To all who come to sit at our table
Or walk with us through the market place
Or pray with us by the water
May I have the plain poetry to tell them how I feel
Or why there is pain,
If the answers are mine to know.
And if they are, I ask the spirit to let me share them
With a light heart, with laughter,
Wth no expectation, with humility
But for the grace of thee, go i.
May I know my innocence
Every moment of every day
May I be a child forever
Intoxicated by hot sand, cool winds, by love
By my own communication to the spirit.
May my aliveness always be as loud
When I make love, as when I cry
May I see my own reflection in the mirror
And smile
My love,
You are my teacher
And I surrender to your heart
The purest heart Ive ever seen
Today I give you everything that is mine to give
My truth
All my innocence
And all my heart
I am yours
Let the dance begin.
- julia
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Building the Foundation
God's Holy Spirit tells us straight, lost souls will one day die...
Then what have they to celebrate? Salvation's past them by!
We've got the means to preach worldwide, it's time to count the cost.
Christ gave His all when crucified... Please give to save the lost...
When Christians pray, God bends an ear... He studies every word...
How many pray to God each year? The truth is somewhat blurred...
Of those who love Him most of all, obedience is king...
They serve the Saviour just like Paul, who gave God everything...
The rest resist God's perfect plan, they wander to and fro,
Sometimes they serve the Son of Man, sometimes they just say, 'No...'
Sometimes they offer words of praise, sometimes they seek the Lord...
At other times, they act like strays, the Shepherd they've ignored...
God wants to build His Kingdom now, not for some future time,
Not for some future heads to bow, but now, while in our prime...
Today's the day... this unique day... this moment must pass soon.
What must we do? We must obey... Don't wait to watch the moon...
God's Holy Spirit tells us straight, lost souls will one day die...
Then what have they to celebrate? Salvation's past them by!
We've got the means to preach worldwide, it's time to count the cost.
Christ gave His all when crucified... Please give to save the lost...
(July 2011)
poem by Denis Martindale
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Poetry And Politics Should Not Be Mixed
I love my poetry pure and personal
The feelings of the single soul
In loneliness and love
In sadness and in happiness
But when they call us animal names
And say they want to kill us all
And when they make us into microbes and cancers
They say they will exterminate
How can I go on just by myself only for myself?
Mustn’t I say I come from a people
Whose Name for God means Peace
And who teach Kindness as life’s first quality?
A people who perhaps more than any other
Have suffered cruelty in their struggle to survive?
Mustn’t I with my small words nonetheless strive to say
We will fight to survive
Though
We in Israel want no wars and no hate and no killing and no death
We want our neighbors to thrive and prosper
And all peoples to live and worship in their own way
Mustn’t I say
War will be waged only reluctantly as last resort
As Peace for all
Is what we need and pray
Lion with the lamb
Under fig tree and vine
As our prophets taught in the Holy Land
So many years ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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It is lovely day
it is lovely and bright day with shine
Where are people to whom I can call mine
Of course feminine but will she be divine or Caroline?
I miss her everyday when I on move or about to dine
It is really a love, infatuation or attachment
Is it poetical inspiration or pride moment?
What can be attributed to such statement?
But there is inner feeling with some movement
It is the relationship to live
Honor the feelings and believe
Thrust more on pain to relieve
Think more of past and try to relive
It is moment to laugh and enjoy
Such things can never happy for joy
It is difficult to ease with mild smile
Yet you can laugh and enjoy for a while
Heart may have its own palpitation
It may try to open up with some indication
Message to be found on leaves and flowers
In monsoon when it slowly showers
I have to offer my best
It is crucial and desired test
It must be given fair look considerably insight
Whether it is fully dark or exposed to light
Sky is open and very wide
I can look at and easily confide
I have in past already tried
But could not confess that I have lied
I had kept you in my deep reserve
It was there not for simply to observe
It had strength to guide and serve
I was gaining a lot to control the nerve
There is little twinkling with stars
I can see them all from being very far
My fancy may be let loose as very good flyer
Else I may be called as cheat and liar
I have nothing to disclose as very special
I have not to hide it or offer any denial
It is matter of not to hide or seek
It may alter entire scene and render you weak
Dreams are not to be taken as dreams
They are provider of powerful beams
It may travel in only one direction
Rest all may be reflected in your action
Neither leave it merely to the fate or to destiny
Nor offer prayers only to the almighty
That may give some sort of internal peace
And very good boost to live at ease
Make it point in life to live happily
Show the willingness and that too readily
No false show off just to impress
Welcome with smile always on face
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Spirit Of Jfk
Let the word go forth
Let the word go forth
From this time and place
Good evening my fellow citizens
Im speaking tonight in a spirit of hope
In the human spirit, the human spirit
Lee harvey oswald
Oh, no
Jack ruby
Oswald and ruby
Oh, no
To friend and foe alike
Oswald and ruby
My god, have you heard
The president is dead
Oswald and ruby
They do not imprison spirits
Oswald and ruby
They do not imprison spirits
The president is dead
Well, I know where that 3rd shot came from
The grassy knoll
Behind the picket fence
The energy, the faith, the function
Which we bring to this endeavor
Well fight our country and all who serve it
And the glow from that fire
Can truly light the world
History will record the facts
I didnt shoot anybody
Lee harvey oswald
Why should anybody serve?
Why should anybody serve?
Jack harvey oswald
We have learned in times past
The spirit of one moment or place
Can be gone in the next
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moment To Moment
Too many nights of isolation
Too many echoes in my head
Too many fires left burning
In this bed
Too many thoughts of desperation
So much pain deep down below
So mych a slave to my senses
I cant let go
From moment to moment
I live and I die
This cant go on anymore
Another day, another lie
From moment to moment
I stand and I fall
This cant go on anymore
Unless we both give it all
I ask you how can a man keep his distance
How can he reason with his heart
How can you hold me so near
Yet keep me so far
From moment to moment
I live and I die
This cant go on anymore
Another day, another lie
From moment to moment
I stand and I fall
This cant go on anymore
Unless we both give it all
Sometimes Id like to break you down
To see if theres a trace of woman in you that could be found
But I just keep prayin youll come around
And live from moment to moment
I live from moment to moment
I live from moment to moment
So much a slave to my senses
I cant let go
From moment to moment
I live and I die
This cant go on anymore
Another day, another lie
From moment to moment
I stand and I fall
This cant go on anymore
Unless we both give it all
You know I want to give it all
I live from moment to moment
Everyday of my life
I live from moment to moment
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Zimbabwean asks a question
O Great Spirit,
You who in Your form of the Chapungu,
the great eagle with sharper eye than any aeroplane,
watches over us and knows all things;
who even descends from your great circles of flight
over our beautiful land of stone and earth and tree
to show a child lost in the bush
the way back to the village and to home,
please show us, too, the way back home, to You.
You know I talk to you each day in my heart,
but today a man has asked me to speak some words
that many people may hear.
So I speak for Zimbabwe, and for the Africa
of which we are so proud:
for we in Africa are proud; and proud for You:
that in a mad and busy world, we have not forgotten
that every blade of grass and flower,
lizard, singing bird, lion, elephant,
are You in all your great disguises
and that all that we see around us
is You in the spirits of our ancestors
who listen to us and guide us;
and so we know that we must listen
to every creature to hear news of You...
and in the evening of each day
(which, we cannot now forget, may be our last)
as the men come home from work
and the women and children back from the fields,
and the smoke from the evening fires
rises above the huts,
and the smells of cooking fill the air,
we tell all our children round the fire
the truth about You
in all the tales our fathers and grandfathers have told us -
told to these children who have so recently come from You;
by those grandparents who will so soon come back to You;
they have so much to share and listen to,
about You!
And would you not agree, O Great Spirit,
that the smile of an African child
is the biggest thing you ever saw - or made?
It reminds every mother and father of Your smile,
and tells every grandparent what is in store for them...
So we rejoice to think, O Great Spirit,
that we are still your children,
and that You know what is best for us -
And so I ask you, especially today, O Great Spirit,
for all who may read this:
Are the spirits angry with us?
If they are, please tell me why?
And so, what can we do to stay close to You?
Many men have many answers to these questions
in the reasoning of men;
but nothing from men quite seems to 'do the trick';
so now, I'm simply asking You
to speak in Your own way;
since nothing from men quite seems to 'do the trick';
and, O Great Spirit,
Chapungu,
it is Your world, which we look after, and not ours...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Prayer
LADY, in thy proud eyes
There is a weary look,
As if the spirit we know through them
Were daunted with rebuke
To think that the heart of man henceforth
Is read like a read book.
Lady, in thy lifted face
The solitude is sore;
The true solitude follows the crowd.
Will it be less or more
When the words have been spoken to thee
Which my heart is seeking for?
Lady, canst thou not guess
The words which my thoughts seek?
Perhaps thou deem'st them well to spurn
And better not to speak.
Oh thou must know my love is strong,
Hearing my voice so weak.
Lady, ah go not thus:
Lady, give ear again:
Lady, oh learn from me that yet
There may one thing remain
Which stands not in the knowledge thou hast
And in thy lore of men.
Lady, the darkness lasteth long
Ere the dawn touch the skies;
Many are the leagues of wilderness
Till ye come where the green lies;
Nay often betwixt doubt and doubt
Death whispers and makes wise.
Lady, has not my thought
Dared much? For I would be
The ending of darkness and the dawn
Of a new day to thee,
And thine oasis, and thy place of rest,
And thy time of peace, lady.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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A sacrifice once again
You did it once again
It was not for position to regain
It was pure sacrifice
We sincerely mourn your demise
Your are brave soldiers of holy land
You considered foe as friends
You were deployed there to protect the frontier
You were deployed there as soldier
We all slept here with peace
You were torn there in pieces
Daily some of you were dying
It was willingness for laying
You were paid from treasury
You had all pains and misery
How much hardship and difficult way?
We had glimmer of hope and ray
O, brave sons of the soil
You stand there for enemy’s attempts to foil
You live under constant fear and fire
We have no words for you to admire
What else can we do for you?
Is it not equally right and true?
We can see the reason through
You are there not for us to woo
You have opted to stay there
You could stay in comforts here
You have all the freedom to go else where
You have chosen that path true and fair
Nation may remember your true service
No words can supplement or suffice
It is only your dedication that may speak
You are strong and not merely weak
You have all the options open
You can come back and life re open
It will be possible only when
Peace and tranqulity prevails then
We speak true words from our heart
For you it maybe beginning or start
There lies complete open path
There is always danger and bloodbath
How many bullets may be piercing through?
How many may be incapacitated too
It is daily scene of the day
There lies dangerous way
We don’t hesitate to pass the remark
Nation may be poised to embark
It may scale new heights with glory
The page may be re written with different story
You blood may not go in vain
It will always be our pride main
You will rule and guide our destiny
We have attained freedom after great struggle or mutiny
You may shine in sky as bright star
You may remain with us and not so far
You may twinkle there and inspire
We have no words except to admire
You may live long as stars and sky
Our land and sky will be open to fly
It is your valiant effort and try
We raise our head with pride and not feel shy
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Im-Ho-Tep
Time is the bond of mortal life
Isis with the scroll of life
Raised her love Osiris from the dead
Live can transcend the mortal coil
With this script, the high priest of
The Pharaoh commits his sacrilege
Death is but a threshold
To another life, you will arrive
With this power
You shall live again, there is no end
You'll live again...
Love was the curse upon my soul
For it I would risk salvation
And utilize the scroll to save this one
Time is the sentence for my sin
Three thousand years my angry soul's
Been trapped inside this tomb of my condemn.
Death is but a threshold
To another life, I will arrive
With this power
I shall live again, there is no end.
I'll live again
Dawn shines a light on pain untold
Scarred from the millennia
The heart that beats inside my chest is cold
Rise, I'm rising from these sands of time
By the scarab's power I am given strength
With hate in hand, this misery I drink
Death is but a threshold
To another life, I will arrive
And with this power
I shall live again, there is no end
This pain won't end
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Country Bleeds
My country is bleeding to death,
Daily we mourn the dead and lay wreath
Could do absolutely nothing to prevent
Blasts and deaths daily occurrences as if there are no more event
Some people come on bike and strike with gun,
terrorist emerge all of sudden and shoot for the fun
People are caught in cross fire and go for the run
What a shame on earth? Are we happy under the sun?
Country’s existence and honor is at stake
Still there is no unity and people are not wake
No one thinks of humanity and survival is at sake
How to mourn death and celebrate the occasion with cake?
We expect many more such strikes if we remain discerned
People and country should have more concerns
Holy places are on hit list but who knows when?
Danger may be lurking from all over then
Enemies may strike when they are firmly placed in
outside danger may be less but more from within,
Keep them at bay and don’t let them assemble
Sacrifice will not go in vain if enemy is put in trouble
Rain water may flow on ground but blood will remain
When blood is mixed with water it will not go in drain
Don’t aggravate the situation by mere propaganda and refrain
Save country from dishonor and never complain
Asked not? What country has done for you or does?
Only offer self and it may serve purpose
Sacrifice is the only answer that lies with you
You survive or die.honour becomes due
Stop death game once for all and offer the peace best
Stop orgy of violence and unwanted or needless unrest
Come to the sense and deliver the rest
Bad phase will be over if we stand the test
Nothing has proved yet and enough is enough
Strike at the root and prove little tough
Let the enemy know, gun will match the gun
Pride and honor to be preserved and not made a fun
Will youth of today rise in arm and hunted enemy to be slained?
Salute to brave people and warning enemy not to strike again
Always ready to die by putting country first
Attempt to flush them as crisis has become worst
It is possible that you will be lost from memory
Country may be burdened more with worry
No one will remember who defended the honor
it may be by all sections including minor or major
It is not important how long did you live?
It only matter how you lived and what did you believe
So when it comes to defend the country?
You got to offer yourself and make the entry
Politicians always scrounge and people may laugh,
Words may be spoken but may not be that enough
Few rose petals may be offered by them and laid as wreath,
Tears too may be shed when stopped last breath,
What we need today is strong will power?
Not many building and no high rising towers
We should stand united and display strong will
Defeat the enemy designs and go for the kill
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Rest In Peace
WHO DARES TO DISTURB THE DEAD?
WHY THEN IS THE DEAD A GHOST?
THEY ARE ABROAD THAT OUGHT TO BE AT REST,
YEA, THE DEAD NO LONGER RESTS IN PEACE,
TELL YE THE TRUTH,
DOES THE DEAD LIVE ON IN CAPTIVITY?
WHY THEN DOES THE DEAD CRY FOR IT'S LOST INNOCENCE?
THOUGH I BE DEAD,
I LIVE ON IN TEARS,
I WEEP FOR MY LOST INNOCENCE,
YEA, THE DEAD NO LONGER REST IN PEACE,
THE THIEVES HAVE STOLEN MY LIFE AND MY DEATH,
YEA, NO ONE DEAD, EVER REST'S IN PEACE!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Sleep
When my mom came
Inside my room
I was under a blanket
And water smooth on window panes
Was trickling in the rain
The candles burned
When the wax curled
And fell on my mom's finger
And softly I
Without a sound
Sat up inside my bed
And put my finger onto hers
And calmly I just said,
'You mustn't weep
You mustn't cry
For daddy didn't really die.
He's waiting for us in his room
He will wake up
next afternoon
I promise you, he's
here alright
Along with us,
not out of sight
Not in the heavens,
Or in the ground
He's sleeping,
sweetly,
Safe and sound.
Believe me, mama
He's alive.
You mustn't cry
You mustn't weep,
I swear I heard him.
He's just... asleep.
poem by Sasha Ioffine
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Slit the wrist and let it flow.
Hate and pain, feelin’ it in my veins.
Hate and pain etched in my mind.
Love and hate are all the same,
Life and death are all our problems, but you treat them as there mine.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death are all the same in my mind.
Life and death are all the same,
Play with fire and get burned.
Accusations flying my way, will they ever stop?
Slit the wrist and let it flow.
Slit the wrist and let it flow.
Life and death are all the same.
Life and death, when will it end?
Anger and frustration all boiling to the top.
Vengeance and Violence seems to be the only way.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death, it’s all the same.
Life and death, is it my turn yet?
Death is living again.
Death is bliss I will never discover.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death, it’s all the same.
Life and death, a new fire is born.
Death is an eternal fire being blown out.
Death is being free from the shackles of life.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death, it’s all the same.
Life and death, it’s our destiny.
Death is the only escape.
Death is the forth stomach of a cow.
By Ariel Morris.
poem by Ariel Morris
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Simple prayer
I am glad you could understand and view
There may be hardly any one or very few
I feel the seriousness of thee name
it will be futile on our part to contest or claim
I shall stand alone and try to share
Let him kindly lead and take me there
I shall receive the divine touch
I have awaited for occasion as such
I have no place to go anywhere
I have withered the storm to find him here
In all my pains and agony he has stood firm
My eyes could not believe it or confirm
Love has flowed from his tearful eyes
Mercy is always there if someone sincerely tries
He has nothing to take from us but everything to give
Let us learn to live with his little tune and try to forgive
Storm may lash and tides may rise
Wind may calm down with bright sunrise
Darkness may never reappear and peace shall prevail
Why to wait for tomorrow when he is before us to avail
I am made of simple clay
As simple as toy to play
Body may remain but soul taken away
Is there any option or some alternate in a way?
I would only pray for blessings
I shall find it on forehead of poor while kissing
Nothing shall appear ordinary or go simply missing
I heed to all words while plainly advising
I have longed for his hand over my head
I wished he could show me path and lead
I was knee deep in worldly affairs
It was unwise to act and stand as fair
I am totally blind and unmindful of sins
Fools in people’s eye as in defeat I find win
I know for sure it is futile to dream and hold
Still feel warmth of his kindness in severe cold
I may not be in services of poor
But still inviting them at door
Whatever I could offer as token of love
It is all I could do to hold it as above
You have given me enough and may last long
I shall be thriving for rightness even if go wrong
I want to live, survive and stay among
If I can pray in verses like beautiful song
I expect to be blessed with harmony and peace
Rest of the period may be spent at ease
I wish to be a part and parcel of holy journey
What else I thrive and expect from o, almighty?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Child of Terror
A cobra coils in the eyes of
The little girl from sweet love city.
Her hair falls down in golden curls
But you mustn't stare
At the rifle on her shoulder
Or wonder why the games she plays are bolder
Than mere hide-and-seek and hopscotch.
Perhaps she'll tell you later
Why she likes to butcher soldiers
In the street and rob
Their bodies of useful ammunition.
Her parents told her
That freedom is worth fighting for
And death is less traumatic
As the heart grows colder.
One day she'll come to realise
That something deep inside her dies
With every life she takes away,
Eventually she'll have to pay
The price for shedding so much blood
In the name of some relentless God!
And so she'll weep and then she'll pray
That she'll wake up on some different day
And be forgiven for her crimes,
The harvest of these evil times.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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I worship
I worship no other
Except motherland and only mother
One who gave me birth?
And motherland who gives me refuge on death
My land must daily witness rising sun
Where there can be only silenced gun
There is no scope for violence or quarrel
Only to make inroad with struggle
What should be seen in my eye?
What all I should seek and try?
Powerful wings and capacity to fly
All I may need is enough of space in sky
I wish everybody a great success
Right to live and place with access
Love to live and trust among all
I wish that forms day's call
I want Bhanu* (sun) to rise
Make everybody to wonder and surprise
What all we can do for our motherland?
Make it beautiful on earth as wonderland
My eyes must witness green fields
Nice crops with greater yield
People must enjoy and farmers should rejoice
That is my dream and I whole heartedly promise
Let borders remain at peace
Life too should remain wonderful and at ease
We should miss not wealth but natural health
Minds at rest and not wrapped as stealth
I pray for all and even to myself
Let treasure come out from sea shelf
Benefit to all and to my country people
Let them enjoy freedom that has come after great struggle
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Blessings
All your days can be beautiful, when you let The Lord fulfill,
His ways and plan in your life, and His blessings will be rife,
If we only believe and trust, blessings will pour down on us,
As He opens up floodgates of, all blessings He has above.
Blessings upon us are poured, when we submit to The Lord,
This to follow all of God’s ways, as we live out all our days,
Listening to the Holy Spirit, and His prompting as we heat it,
Guiding us to those doors, where grace and blessing pours.
Then Grace will begin to flow, in ways that we’d never know,
Flowing from an endless supply, His blessing for you and I,
Blessings will flow abundantly, down to all of God’s Family,
As we live our life for Him, while keeping our life free of sin.
Blessing is to, subtle friend, in strength, as we near an end,
Coming in that final hour, when you truly need divine power,
With peace as part of a course, from a never ending source,
Peace, knowing God is near, when your heart begins to fear.
Blessings you’ll be assured, follow all who live for The Lord,
Even in a dark and lonely place, as God ministers His Grace,
The Grace, that began at Calvary, to lead all men to Eternity,
Where Blessing from our Lord, will flow to them forevermore.
(Copyright ©09/2008)