Blood And The Moon
BLESSED be this place,
More blessed still this tower;
A bloody, arrogant power
Rose out of the race
Uttering, mastering it,
Rose like these walls from these
Storm-beaten cottages --
In mockery I have set
A powerful emblem up,
And sing it rhyme upon rhyme
In mockery of a time
HaIf dead at the top.
Alexandria's was a beacon tower, and Babylon's
An image of the moving heavens, a log-book of the
sun's journey and the moon's;
And Shelley had his towers, thought's crowned powers
he called them once.
I declare this tower is my symbol; I declare
This winding, gyring, spiring treadmill of a stair is my
ancestral stair;
That Goldsmith and the Dean, Berkeley and Burke
have travelled there.
Swift beating on his breast in sibylline frenzy blind
Because the heart in his blood-sodden breast had
dragged him down into mankind,
Goldsmith deliberately sipping at the honey-pot of his
mind,
And haughtier-headed Burke that proved the State a
tree,
That this unconquerable labyrinth of the birds, cen-
tury after century,
Cast but dead leaves to mathematical equality;
And God-appointed Berkeley that proved all things a
dream,
That this pragmatical, preposterous pig of a world, its
farrow that so solid seem,
Must vanish on the instant if the mind but change its
theme;
i{Saeva Indignatio} and the labourer's hire,
The strength that gives our blood and state magnani-
mity of its own desire;
Everything that is not God consumed with intellectual
fire.
III
The purity of the unclouded moon
Has flung its atrowy shaft upon the floor.
Seven centuries have passed and it is pure,
The blood of innocence has left no stain.
There, on blood-saturated ground, have stood
Soldier, assassin, executioner.
Whether for daily pittance or in blind fear
Or out of abstract hatred, and shed blood,
But could not cast a single jet thereon.
Odour of blood on the ancestral stair!
And we that have shed none must gather there
And clamour in drunken frenzy for the moon.
IV
Upon the dusty, glittering windows cling,
And seem to cling upon the moonlit skies,
Tortoiseshell butterflies, peacock butterflies,
A couple of night-moths are on the wing.
Is every modern nation like the tower,
Half dead at the top? No matter what I said,
For wisdom is the property of the dead,
A something incompatible with life; and power,
Like everything that has the stain of blood,
A property of the living; but no stain
Can come upon the visage of the moon
When it has looked in glory from a cloud.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes
Blood Bound
Countdown, descending down to zero
Bursting into flames
Can't you see the coming of a hero
On this enchanting day
So stand up and be counted
In the solar glance in the desert sand
No longer the hunted
United we are 'til the day we fall
A chain unbreakable
Every link is allied to our mighty vow
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power that is greater than all
We're Blood Bound
Watch out, the heathen's all around us
Always watch you back
We've got a lust for freedom
Whatever they say we know we'll stay
We are indestructible
And no matter what happens we will rise above
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power that is greater than all
We're Blood Bound
Look into my eyes
Tell me what is hidden deep inside
Chains about to break
It's the everlasting freedom for us all
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power together
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power together - Blood Bound
Power forever - Blood Bound
Power - We're Blood Bound
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Indifference Poem) Blood Stain On My Conscience
Your nothing but a but blood stain on my conscience.
Get angry
and send your messenger.
A non existent threat.
How much you want to bet.
Your still a cheating fool
still a cheating fool.
Your nothing but a blood stain on my conscience.
I still remember the way back when.
How could I ever forget.
I took you in as my own blood.
You were a mere child.
Now you claim to be a man.
Yet you do not take a stand.
How is it
that you create so much hate.
Ripping
and tearing at every ones insides.
Twisting
and manipulating.
Your nothing but a blood stain on my conscience.
Walk in my shadow
because I'm already gone.
What is done
is done.
War of words.
Sounds quite absurd.
But let me tell you they can hurt.
They can destroy.
Good or bad
doesn't matter in my world.
Again I'm on the edge
looking into pure blackness.
Jump with foolishness.
Sorry but I won't.
Your nothing but a blood stain on my conscience.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Pride and Honor
The pride and honor is always supreme
Whether it is nation, individual or team
It will be razed to ground the moment you have arrogance
It must be realized and borne in mind at once
So many kingdoms perished just for one reason
They were headed by headstrong and ambitious persons
What did they want for whole world in return?
Blood bath, killings, molestation in turn
Did Napoleon, Sikandar the Greet any recognition?
Only known for their powerful drive with ambition
What did it carry with their mind and impression?
World can’t be won over by simple invasion
Individual is not known by his ancestral identity
It is simple logic and must be felt with pity
How can you claim your present glory to past
As world is moving toward destiny very fast
The blood of mine was the royal blood...
Toughest to win was that royal blood...
Heavens salute to that royal blood...
Proud to have that royal blood...
But it killed many
Don’t you think royal blood is funny?
At what cost and what benefit?
How did it try for freedom to light?
No violence can protect
Only you must speak with noble act
Nothing can be termed as royal
If you fail to act as loyal
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Guardian and BloodRose
BloodRose,
Rose of my love,
My love for Dark moon,
Dark as my heart,
Black as my soul,
And gave me my rose.
The rose of blood,
With petals soft and black,
Never as a rose so beautiful,
Grown not in light,
But under a dark moon lit sky.
Guardian,
Yes a guardian of BloodRose,
With teeth long and sharp,
Claws hard as diamonds,
Scales as dark as night.
My dear sweet guardian,
Guardian black as my heart,
Fire in your eyes,
Shadows in your soul,
A dragon of the dark moon.
A single rose,
With petals so fare,
As dark as my heart,
I now hold in my hand,
The rose of blood.
You are my darkness,
Fear of this love,
This love for you,
Love for darkness,
The cold shadows in my heart
That makes me yearn for you.
Now as you lay dying,
I hold a single rose,
The rose you gave me,
And as I hold it tight,
The thorns slice my hand,
Covered with blood,
My blood.
I have one fear,
The fear of death,
Symbol of my lost love,
Rose as dark as me,
Laying in a pool of blood,
Blood from me.
As I lay dying,
I remember my name,
BloodRose,
I am the rose of blood,
And I died of my own creation.
A creation of perfect beauty,
Petals dark black,
Thorns like small daggers,
Grown from my love,
My love for a dragon,
A dragon as dark as my heart.
Even in my death,
I think of you,
And the rose you gave me,
The rose that killed me,
The Rose of Blood.
poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
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Does War Bring Peace
I had learned power increases, when we preserve,
But, I see each are showing their strength
I had learned powerful never shows it
But, I see each are showing their strength as exhibition.
I had asked once to my father why is power being used,
He replied me it’s for peace by the country to rebellion
I wondered how a peace is brought by guns
I thought peace is dropping of guns
Now, I have got new knowledge for peace
It’s the path of blood, which brings blood
And ends where only in saying, place is coming
But when will it come only the killers know
Yes, terrorism is about to end coz each human will be dead
Due to one determination of people that blood shed will bring peace to bed.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
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A Call
Raise the voice for your abducted rights
Against the discrimination and agonal plight
In a world - driven by race and power
Stop dozing at your zone; don’t act like coward.
Accepting everything is not called life
Stand by your own ground to come alive
Do not fear; do not care the power of hate
Come out blood rinsed to change your fate.
Your blood will talk for you, afloat them all
Sometimes blood is needed, for revolution’s call
Many years of your drudgery, in their apathy
No one cares for you only history shows sympathy.
So come out together from the dreadful womb
Stop living like dead in the house like tomb
You’ve to do it here; don’t wait for God to ring bells
As we have only one life; then there is nothing else.
poem by Sourav RCY
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In Death Valley
There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,
Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill
Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.
Around were heaps of ruins piled between
The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;
And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls
One pillar rose up dark against the moon.
There was a nameless Presence everywhere;
In the gray soil there was a purple stain,
And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood—
Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.
It was the mark of some ancestral grief—
Grief that began before the ancient Flood.
poem by Edwin Markham
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Young Blood
i saw her standing on the corner,
(ooh ooh ooh)
a yellow ribbon in her hair,
(ooh ooh ooh)
i couldn't keep myself from callin' ,
looky there,
looky there,
looky there,
oh looky there!
young blood,
young blood,
young blood,
i can't get you outta my mind.
i took one look and i was flattered
(ooh ooh ooh)
i tried to walk along the lane
(ooh ooh ooh)
i couldn't keep myself from shouting,
whats your name?
whats your name?
whats your name?
oh whats your name?
young blood,
young blood,
young blood,
i can't get you outta my mind.
what crazy step
she looked so tept
i had to follow her all the way home
then things went bad
i met her dad
he said
you'd better leave my daughter alone
i couldn't sleep that night for crying
(ooh ooh ooh)
i saw the rising of the sun
(ooh ooh ooh)
and all along my heart was sighing
she's the one
she's the one
she's the one
oh she's the one
young blood
young blood
young blood
i can't get you outta my mind
young blood
young blood
young blood
i can't get you outta my mind
young blood
young blood
young blood
i can't get you outta my mind
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood Red Roses
Blood red
The roses she'd
Always received
Blood red
Blood red
The sole chroma
Of her world
Blood red
Blood red
Spurted out from
His thorn-like barbs
Blood red
Blood red
Her anguished life
Assiduous
Blood red
Blood red
Her favorite
Shade of roses
Blood red
poem by Alice Vedral Rivera
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
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Today... 'Christ Our Passover Lamb
'I'll pass over you when I see the blood'
This was the wonderful promise of God
The blood has been shed and the price is paid
The Passover Lamb on the alter laid.
The day was the day of Unleavened Bread
The day that the Passover Lamb lay dead
Christ our Passover Lamb has now been slain
And His blood has cleansed us from sins stain.
For from His lips I hear 'Father forgive'
And because He died I can now shall live
The judgement of God has been waived for me
Because of what Jesus did at Calvary.
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
Rise after Dusk
Out of the Coffin and into my hearse
I'm hunting for your blood you can be my first
Don't try to run honey, you're as good as dead
I'm gonna dye you're milky skin a pretty shade of red
I'm gonna leave you lifeless, you're blood so priceless
and now you're mine, don't even try to fight this
Now in this darkest hour, you're blood I will devour
I love every minute of this, and I love this power
Out of the coffin and into your bed
haunting all your dreams, honey you're the undead
Walk into the night baby, this is your life
You've got the taste blood, now the make the whole world die.
poem by Justin Schock
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Here
I am a man now.
Pass your hand over my brow.
You can feel the place where the brains grow.
I am like a tree,
From my top boughs I can see
The footprints that led up to me.
There is blood in my veins
That has run clear of the stain
Contracted in so many loins.
Why, then, are my hands red
With the blood of so many dead?
Is this where I was misled?
Why are my hands this way
That they will not do as I say?
Does no God hear when I pray?
I have no where to go
The swift satellites show
The clock of my whole being is slow,
It is too late to start
For destinations not of the heart.
I must stay here with my hurt.
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas
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Dust Moon
How long have I been running far far away from you
As many miles as I've gone
Still the darkness comes on
There will be a crimson moon tonight
Dust moon rises...your face haunts me so
Dust moon rises...sanity leaving me soon
I still see your blood on the face of the moon
Your face haunts me, nothing clear now
Dust moon has risen
Bloody, mocking moon
Daylight seems lifetimes away, eternal midnight
Keep running away
Dust moon has risen...haunting me so
Dust moon rises...sanity, leaving me so soon?
I still see your face on the blood of the moon
And when the dust moon rests his weary head
And the sunshine begins to rise
Will I still be here or will I be dead
Is the dawn of a new day just a lie?
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVIII
HE LAMENTS THAT HIS LOVE IS DEAD
My love is dead, dead and in spite of me,--
Dead while I lived,--while yet my blood was rife
With hope and pleasure and the pride of life.
For my love ended unexpectedly
During the Winter, stricken like a tree
By a night's cold, and frozen to the blood,
Whose leaves fell off and never were renewed
By any promise of the years to be.
And, when the Spring came, and the birds, to mate
Among its branches, lo! they found it bare,
Though all around was Summer in the wood.
Yet they took heart awhile, incredulous
That such a tree should be for ever dead.
``'Tis early yet,'' they cried. ``The Spring is late.
It shall still be as in the days that were.''
But Summer came and went while the tree stood
Bare in the sun like a deserted house.
--Then the birds suddenly despaired and fled.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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An Angry Poem, Because So Many Flags Are At Half Staff
The wreaths are piling up on the curb. Coffins line streets swept and stainless. Some one asks why, there are murmurs in the crowd. I am beyond curiosity, tired of the story that begins with Blood and ends in Glory. Glory, worshiped in the streets, feared in our hearts. Glory, bought with sin, greed and the end of innocence. Glory, balm for the living because the dead do not need soothing. Glory, an epithet hammered into gravestones. Glory in death -wrap that lie in a flag and praise it to heaven. We are false prophets and our blessing has cursed the dead with the Blood sacrifice.
Blood is paid for with youth, salvation, faith -everything, all they have and ever will. Blood is given (taken) in our name and we can only offer up sorrow, prayers, songs, statues. Blood should bring guilt, shame, truth, but we deny, deny, deny, and deny the abomination we have become. 2,000 suicides,3,000 dead,130,000 killed,6 million murdered,60 million casualties... the numbers do not lie. And we will go on counting the dead while rain polishes their headstones smooth.
So do not ask me why so many flags are at half staff. I will not give you the answer you want to hear. I will not mock the dead with vainglorious praise, Glory Glory Hallelujah! They are the mothers, fathers, sons and daughters who paid the price of Blood and I will honor them with the truth.
poem by Ronald Shields
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One Drop of Christ's Blood Shed…
One dropp of blood
of Jesus Christ, shed
Frees millions of sinners
Of their life-time sins!
One dropp of blood
Of Savior Christ, priceless
Absolves the punishments
Of the worst repentant sinners!
One dropp of blood
Of Messiah Christ
Opens the gates of heaven
For souls which yearn for God.
One dropp of blood
Of the slain Lamb of God
Annuls eternal damnation
Of all who repent and plead!
One dropp of blood
Of the Redeemer Christ
Can save mankind
From the fire of Hell!
Such is the immense power
Of the blood of the Son of God,
Who suffered and died upon the cross
for mankind's sake!
The sacred blood of Christ
Can sanctify all souls,
Who are truly sorry from heart,
From time immemorial!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-06-12
poem by John Celes
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The Blood Of Jesus
Every minute, every hour,
The blood of Jesus is the power,
It's the power over sickness and disease,
It's the power that sets you free.
The blood of Jesus will turn your life around,
In your daily life peace will abound,
It will set you free from anxiety,
Through Jesus' blood you will have a victory.
Plead the blood of Jesus without delay,
Pour the blood over bad circumstances today,
Try the blood of Jesus and you will see,
The blood of Jesus means victory.
poem by Elizabeth Skerencak
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Syrian Military Attacking Killing Civilians
Syrian military
tanks aircraft are attacking
are killing civilians
with Russian
political military...
aid civilian Arab
blood flows
blood red black rose withers
those Russians
those Russians
living before frost
ice thaw
say how can you expect...
dictators
to leave
blood red black rose withers
without sowing
killing fields
with thousands
millions of rebels
exterminated
are not model...
civilians
not citizens
blood red black rose withers
plus misfits
did not conform
to official
party policy
insanity insanity...
there can be
only party
blood red black rose withers
Russian tradition slay civilians
put in ice box grave Gulag...
have they not heard
Stalin is dead...
dictatorship is dead...
martyr minds
beyond the wire noose...
blood red black rose withers
beyond the wire noose...
are already free
blood red black rose withers
do not blame Arab
dictator
for civilian deaths
in Aleppo? ? ?
without Russian Chinese
political muscle flexing
merciless
backing blood would not flow
backing blood would not flow
in black rose freedom
blood red black rose withers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Peace Frog
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets its up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying red rivers of weepin
She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood streams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, its up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of chicago
Blood on the rise, its following me
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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