Confession of an Aristocratic Whore
Dismemberment of life
Grant of no grace in our gutters
Sedated happiness in unreal words
Pitiful kings lie in human secrets
Allegiance of a false power to govern us all
Unrest of a restored mob
Riots in the pavements of glory’s past
The age of miracle has long passed
Anarchy pours in the Isles of greed
Retirement of unpassionate parades storm in
Balck petals flow in an ethnicity’s battlements
And a white Tiger waits to rule, in sin!
Emerald stones will take their course
In Power and Lust they shutter mankind’s fall
My Charles, how loathsome thy shape has gone
Thy eternal youth in blood they yield below
Decapitation of the phony rat has come
A lonely council kneels in Divinity
Forgotten poison lurks between the alleys
A Father’s Love and a Son’s Pride
Why let be bygones be bygones for a low blow whistle
The affairs of the Crown are hanged for one whisky lust
A thirst of hedonism to rule my Rebels
The vowed Throne be filled with ashy treasures
My Bathory sulks in the corridors of Youth
Eyeing atrocities of guilt to decorate the rotten Truth
Defy the Glorious luxury of gilded cages
Bury this Puritanism in obscurity of negligence
To thee, dark spirit thy minions dwell
To thee, creation has humankind bled
Thy scheme has already been perceived
Thy Myth of Decadence shall eternally live!
poem by Evita Velvet
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The Lust For Power Is An Addiction
The lust for power is an addiction the Government their own praises do sing
And rubbish their main opposition as to Government they try to cling
The voters bombarded with propaganda right up until election day
The true fact of all politicians is they seldom do mean what they say
The winners take all of the glory and the winners they do celebrate
The prize it is great and worth lying for that's how they feel those who wish to rule the State
The lust for power is an addiction and not a harmless addiction 'twould seem
Without such power some people feel worthless and suffer of low self esteem
Some people become so power hungry that power to their egos is fuel
They feel it is their right to Govern that they have been born to rule
The Opposition as bad as the Government they too want power in the worst way
Any respect to their political opponents they have no desire for to pay
It is all about power and their egos power to them is the best thing of all
Their pride to them is all that matter though pride it can come before a fall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Hymn XXVI: I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God
I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me we;
That pledge of love for ever there!
How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe!
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!
How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost; nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
'My Lord, my Love is crucified.'
Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.
First-born of many brethren thou!
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, thine may we live!
poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn XXVI: I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God
I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me we;
That pledge of love for ever there!
How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe!
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!
How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost; nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
"My Lord, my Love is crucified."
Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.
First-born of many brethren thou!
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, thine may we live!
poem by John Wesley
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A Madrigal
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sports,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XXXV: Rules part 2
What’s the rule, when money could buy
What’s the rule, when power is absolute
What’s the rule, when feeling involved
What’s the rule, when pride is important
What’s the rule, when look affects
What’s the rule, when victory is a must
What’s the rule, when worlds are vain
What’s the rule, people don’t change
What’s the rule, when good is not always right
What’s the rule, freedom is misunderstood
What’s the rule, anger conquers
What’s the rule, past neglected
What’s the rule, crime that committed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Summons
I can not bow to woo thee
With honey words and flower kisses
And the dew of sweet half-truths
Fallen on the grass of old quaint love-tales
Of broidered days foredone.
Nor in the murmurous twilight
May I sit below thee,
Worshiping in whispers
Tremulous as far-heard bells.
All these things have I known once
And passed
In that gay youth I had but yester-year.
And that is gone
As the shadow of wind.
Nay, I can not woo thee thus;
But as I am ever swept upward
To the centre of all truth
So must I bear thee with me
Rapt into this great involving flame,
Calling ever from the midst thereof,
"Follow! Follow!"
And in the glory of our meeting
Shall the power be reborn.
And together in the midst of this power
Must we, each outstriving each,
Cry eternally:
"I come, go thou yet further."
And again, "Follow,"
For we may not tarry.
poem by Ezra Pound
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My Political Belief
O LIBERTY, yet build thee an august
And best abode in this most virgin clime;
The Old World yet, power-trampled to the dust,
Hath never known thee in thy perfect prime!
Seeing all Rule which at a given time
Expires not, as reposed in Public Trust,
And thence renewable but by Suffrage, must
Against thee in its nature be a crime!
Seeing that all not privileged to name
Their governors—and more, to govern too,
Choosing or chosen, but live unto thy blame!
That all are slaves in act who may not do
Whate’er is virtuous and in spirit who
Believing aught dare not avow the same!
poem by Charles Harpur
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Fairy Dust
Here
See the little queer
There's a volunteer
Dont you think he should get a haircut now
Like in the Marines
All the magazines
Got a way for everyone to shape up
You don't wanna fall behind
Choking on a cloud of fairy dust - fairy dust
Now it's only greed and lust
And pride and lust
And a few other sins
No
See the cherry lips
Hands on the hips
Anyone would your name was Oscar Wilde
Think you're pretty smart
Poetry and art
Put him testosterone and vodka
calling for the man of steel
to blow you faggots into fairy dust - fairy dust
now it's only greed and lust
and pride and lust
and a few other sins
we're
happy to be gay
showing you the way
gotta get your head your hear you toso hard
join another gym
loose your pseudonym
soon we'll all be strait but only more so
tell me who's you're gonna find
to spinkle on a little fairy dust - fairy dust
now it's only greed and lust
and pride and lust
and a few other sins
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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France
Unhappy State! with horrors still to strive:
Thy Hugo dead, thy Boulanger alive;
A Prince who'd govern where he dares not dwell,
And who for power would his birthright sell
Who, anxious o'er his enemies to reign,
Grabs at the scepter and conceals the chain;
While pugnant factions mutually strive
By cutting throats to keep the land alive.
Perverse in passion, as in pride perverse
To all a mistress, to thyself a curse;
Sweetheart of Europe! every sun's embrace
Matures the charm and poison of thy grace.
Yet time to thee nor peace nor wisdom brings:
In blood of citizens and blood of kings
The stones of thy stability are set,
And the fair fabric trembles at a threat.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Hymn XXI: Ye Simple Souls That Stray
Ye simple souls that stray
Far from the path of peace,
That lonely, unfrequented way
To life and happiness,
Why will ye folly love,
And throng the downward road,
And hate the wisdom from above,
And mock the sons of God?
Madness and misery
Ye count our life beneath;
And nothing great or good can see,
Or glorious, in our death:
As only born to grieve,
Beneath your feet we lie;
And utterly contemned we live,
And unlamented die.
So wretched and obscure,
The men whom ye despise,
So foolish, impotent, and poor,
Above your scorn we rise:
We, through the Holy Ghost,
Can witness better things;
For He whose blood is all our boast
Hath made us priests and kings.
Riches unsearchable
In Jesu's love we know;
And pleasures, springing from the well
Of life, our souls o'erflow;
The Spirit we receive
Of wisdom, grace, and power;
And always sorrowful we live,
Rejoicing evermore.
Angels our servants are,
And keep in all our ways,
And in their watchful hands they bear
The sacred souls of grace;
Unto that heavenly bliss
They all our steps attend;
And God himself our Father is,
And Jesus is our friend.
With him we walk in white,
We in his image shine,
Our robes are robes of glorious light,
Our righteousness divine;
On all the kings of earth
With pity we look down,
And claim, in virtue of our birth,
A never-fading crown.
poem by Charles Wesley
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Come, O Creator Spirit, come
Come, O Creator Spirit, come,
and make within our heart thy home;
to us thy grace celestial give,
who of thy breathing move and live.
O Comforter, that name is thine,
of God most high the gift divine;
the well of life, the fire of love,
our souls' anointing from above.
Thou dost appear in sevenfold dower
the sign of God's almighty power;
the Father's promise, making rich
with saving truth our earthly speech.
Our senses with thy light inflame,
our hearts to heavenly love reclaim;
our bodies' poor infirmity
with strength perpetual fortify.
Our mortal foes afar repel,
grant us henceforth in peace to dwell;
and so to us, with thee for guide,
no ill shall come, no harm betide.
May we by thee the Father learn,
and know the Son, and thee discern,
who art of both; and thus adore
in perfect faith for evermore.
poem by Rabanus Maurus
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hymn 159
An unconverted state; or, Converting grace.
[Great King of glory and of grace,
We own, with humble shame,
How vile is our degen'rate race,
And our first father's name.]
From Adam flows our tainted blood,
The poison reigns within;
Makes us averse to all that's good,
And willing slaves to sin.
[Daily we break thy holy laws,
And then reject thy grace;
Engaged in the old serpent's cause,
Against our Maker's face.l
We live estranged afar from God,
And love the distance well;
With haste we run the dangerous road
That leads to death and hell.
And can such rebels be restored?
Such natures made divine?
Let sinners see thy glory, Lord,
And feel this power of thine.
We raise our Fathers name on high
Who his own Spirit sends
To bring rebellious strangers nigh,
And turn his foes to friends.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Can God Use You?
Friend, are you filled with a zeal, which from The Lord is truly real?
From God’s Spirit up above, which fills your witness with His love.
Do you stand firm on The Truth, when facing reproach or reproof?
To let men see your power within, is not your own but is from Him.
Does God’s Word fill your days, with an unending joy and praise?
That allows others to see in you, it’s His Word seeing you through.
Does the praise flow from a heart, which God truly has every part?
To order all steps of your life, for praise and glory of Jesus Christ.
Can God use you this very day, to lead others to life’s narrow way?
To Christ’s glorious eternal path, one far from God’s pending wrath.
Are you ready to join God’s fight, against the darkness of the night?
Using not your power and might, but dispelling it with Christ’s Light.
Will you this day, be on the side, of The Risen Lord, now Glorified?
Who fills you with heavenly power, even in the battle’s darkest hour.
Will you today not stand with Him, who alone died for all of our sin?
Giving all believers eternal victory; assuring each one a life eternally.
Friend, today can you truly afford, a life not serving our Risen Lord?
Who sits beside the Father’s throne, actively interceding for His own.
Dear friend, I ask, how can you lose, if today The Lord you choose?
As the primary focus of your life; this to win all men to Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©07/2007)
Prayer Against The Spirit Of Lust
• Man is a slave to lust. I am the most high child of the Most High
God. I will never be a slave to lust, in the name of Jesus.
• I will not lust after anything, and my God will give me the grace to
do things according to His will, in the name of Jesus.
• I will be moderate in everything that I do, and my God will bring
balance in all things, in the name of Jesus.
• I will not lust after the things of this world but focus on things in
heaven, which are permanent, in the name of Jesus.
• My righteousness and my uprightness will deliver me. I will not be
caught lusting after things, in the name of Jesus.
• I will not lust in my heart to dishonor my body, the temple of the
Holy Spirit, in any way, in the name of Jesus.
• Heavenly Father, purify my thoughts and
let my ways be pleasing to You.
• I bind any spirit that may cause me to lust after things that will not
glorify the name of God in my life, in the name of Jesus.
• I bind any spirit that may cause an intense and excessive craving for
things that do not matter, in the name of Jesus.
• I bind any spirit that may cause an overwhelming desire to do things
that will make me sin against my Father God, in the name of Jesus.
• I come against every strong sexual desire, in the name of Jesus.
• I come against every wrong motive in doing things that may damage
my life, in the name of Jesus.
• I will not regret anything I do, for all of me and my thoughts are in
the hands of the Almighty God, in the name of Jesus.
THE MAGNIFICENT 333 PRAYERS 81
• I know, my Lord God, that You are able, and abundantly able, to
deliver those who trust in You, in the name of Jesus.
• I will not lust after things thereby falling into the trap set by the
enemy for me, in the name of Jesus.
• The grace to focus on things of God, grant it unto me, O Lord, in
the name of Jesus.
• The zeal to do things of God, grant unto me, O Lord, in the name
of Jesus.
• The enthusiasm to hang around people of God, grant unto me, O
Lord, in the name of Jesus.
• Empower me not to lust after anything that does not matter and
that will not glorify Your name, in the name of Jesus.
• Lust is to live unguided to Satan’s strain. This will never be my
portion, in the name of Jesus.
• Forever I am delivered from the Spirit of LUST, in the name of God
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. In the name of Jesus Christ,
I pray with thanksgiving. Amen.
poem by Enoch O. Akanji
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My Dear and Only Love
My dear and only Love, I pray
This noble world of thee
Be govern'd by no other sway
But purest monarchy;
For if confusion have a part,
Which virtuous souls abhor,
And hold a synod in thy heart,
I'll never love thee more.
Like Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone,
My thoughts shall evermore disdain
A rival on my throne.
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That puts it not unto the touch
To win or lose it all.
But I must rule and govern still,
And always give the law,
And have each subject at my will,
And all to stand in awe.
But 'gainst my battery, if I find
Thou shunn'st the prize so sore
As that thou sett'st me up a blind,
I'll never love thee more.
Or in the empire of thy heart,
Where I should solely be,
Another do pretend a part
And dares to vie with me;
Or if committees thou erect,
And go on such a score,
I'll sing and laugh at thy neglect,
And never love thee more.
But if thou wilt be constant then,
And faithful of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen
And famous by my sword:
I'll serve thee in such noble ways
Was never heard before;
I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,
And love thee evermore.
poem by James Graham
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Hymn XXVII: Saviour, the World's and Mine
Saviour, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine!
Thou my pain, my curse hast took,
All my sins were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord; to thee I look,
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
'Tis done! my God hath died;
My Love is crucified!
Break, this stony heart of mine;
Pour, mine eyes, a ceaseless flood;
Feel, my soul, the pangs divine;
Catch, my heart, the issuing blood!
When, O my God, shall I
For thee submit to die?
How the mighty debt repay?
Rival of thy passion prove?
Lead me in thyself, the Way;
Melt my hardness into love.
To love is all my wish,
I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,
There by faith for ever dwell;
This I always will require,
Thee, and only thee, to feel.
Thy power I pant to prove,
Rooted and fixed in love;
Strengthened by thy Spirit's might,
Wise to fathom things divine,
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine.
Ah! give me this to know,
With all thy saints below;
Swells my soul to compass thee,
Gasps in thee to live and move;
Filled with all the Deity,
All immersed and lost in love!
poem by Charles Wesley
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Wiccan Chant of Power
I conjure thee O spirit light
Invoking thee O spirit bright
I bind your soul eternally
O spirit light I conjure thee
I am your guide, I’m in control
I own the essence of your soul
So follow me and be my bride
I’m in control, I am your guide
This spell of power I invoke
And all free will I do revoke
I am the poison you devour
I invoke this spell of power
I conjure thee O spirit mine
You know my power is divine
Submit to me on bended knee
O spirit mine I conjure thee
poem by Amera Andersen
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Essences
The shadows that follow my essences,
capturing the invisible power that commands
the love of men kind; many thou of odor's
form an invisible rule, capturing the intoxicating
scent that blinds beauty.
Odor's, scent are capture from the most small
particle and pieces of existence, ruling each
movement awakening passion and lust.
The splendid orange blossoms that preserve my
youth, will then perish when age comes near.
But my scent will stay alive in every part of my
belongings and in every place of my existence,
and in the shadows of my death, the essence will
rule the existence of my lover taking a last breath,
my soul and spirit will take over to
assure my life will not be forgotten after I'm gone,
the essences the intoxicating scent of a woman's
skin will always rule the mind of men kind.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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The Past
Thou unrelenting Past!
Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain,
And fetters, sure and fast,
Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.
Far in thy realm withdrawn
Old empires sit in sullenness and gloom,
And glorious ages gone
Lie deep within the shadow of thy womb.
Childhood, with all its mirth,
Youth, Manhood, Age, that draws us to the ground,
And last, Man's Life on earth,
Glide to thy dim dominions, and are bound.
Thou hast my better years,
Thou hast my earlier friends--the good--the kind,
Yielded to thee with tears--
The venerable form--the exalted mind.
My spirit yearns to bring
The lost ones back--yearns with desire intense,
And struggles hard to wring
Thy bolts apart, and pluck thy captives thence.
In vain--thy gates deny
All passage save to those who hence depart;
Nor to the streaming eye
Thou giv'st them back--nor to the broken heart.
In thy abysses hide
Beauty and excellence unknown--to thee
Earth's wonder and her pride
Are gathered, as the waters to the sea;
Labours of good to man,
Unpublished charity, unbroken faith,--
Love, that midst grief began,
And grew with years, and faltered not in death.
Full many a mighty name
Lurks in thy depths, unuttered, unrevered;
With thee are silent fame,
Forgotten arts, and wisdom disappeared.
Thine for a space are they--
Yet shalt thou yield thy treasures up at last;
Thy gates shall yet give way,
Thy bolts shall fall, inexorable Past!
All that of good and fair
Has gone into thy womb from earliest time,
Shall then come forth to wear
The glory and the beauty of its prime.
They have not perished--no!
Kind words, remembered voices once so sweet,
Smiles, radiant long ago,
And features, the great soul's apparent seat.
All shall come back, each tie
Of pure affection shall be knit again;
Alone shall Evil die,
And Sorrow dwell a prisoner in thy reign.
And then shall I behold
Him, by whose kind paternal side I sprung,
And her, who, still and cold,
Fills the next grave--the beautiful and young.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour
The happiest day- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt- that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd- fell
An essence- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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