Old Song Now As New
Old Song Now As New
The tyrant too sings swing -
Tyrant is too loving as if -
Look and learn a swimming -
Don't fall asleep in its ship-
TS.
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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Tyrant
Behold tis I the commander
Whose grip controls you all
Resist me not, surrender
Ill no compassion call
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
Your very lives are held within my fingers
I snap them and you cower down in fear
You spineless things who belly down to slither
To the end of the world you follow to be near
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
Mourn for us oppressed in fear
Chained and shackled we are bound
Freedom choked in dread we live
Since tyrant was enthroned
I listen not to sympathy
Whilst ruler of this land
Withdraw your feeble aches and moans
Or suffer smite from this my hand
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
Mourn for us oppressed in fear
Chained and shackled we are bound
Freedom choked in dread we live
Since tyrant was enthroned
My legions faithful unto death
Ill summon to my court
And as you perish each of you
Shall scream as you are sought
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A collective tyrant, spread over the length and breadth of the land, is no more acceptable than a single tyrant ensconced on his throne.
quote by Georges Clemenceau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With a Nantucket Shell
I SEND thee a shell from the ocean beach;
But listen thou well, for my shell hath speech.
Hold to thine ear,
And plain thou’lt hear
Tales of ships
That were lost in the rips,
Or that sunk on shoals
Where the bell-buoy tolls,
And ever and ever its iron tongue rolls
In a ceaseless lament for the poor lost souls.
And a song of the sea
Has my shell for thee;
The melody in it
Was hummed at Wauwinet,
And caught at Coatue
By the gull that flew
Outside to the ship with its perishing crew.
But the white wings wave
Where none may save,
And there ’s never a stone to mark a grave.
See, its sad heart bleeds
For the sailors’ needs;
But it bleeds again
For more mortal pain,
More sorrow and woe,
Than is theirs who go
With shuddering eyes and whitening lips
Down in the sea on their shattered ships.
Thou fearest the sea?
And a tyrant is he,—
A tyrant as cruel as tyrant may be;
But though winds fierce blow,
And the rocks lie low,
And the coast be lee,
This I say to thee:
Of Christian souls more have been wrecked on shore
Than ever were lost at sea!
poem by Charles Harper Webb
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Swing It
(jon-jon/babyface/r.phillips)
Oh yeah
Hey hey
I wanna know, do you have style?
The kind of style that makes a woman want to lose her mind
And I wanna know when you make it worth my time
Will it be like all the rest wont give you best, just fall behind
coz I wanna know what turns you on
And you keep the loving strong
coz with me you dont have to ask
coz Im the woman thatll give you what you need
Tell me
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Theres not a thing that I wont do
Once I find a man that gives me love its kind of cool
Take any night by candlelight
I wanna be to you the one you never had before
coz I wanna know what turns you on
And you keep the loving strong
coz with me you dont have to ask
coz Im the woman thatll give you what you need
Tell me, tell me, tell me
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, come on
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
coz I wanna know what turns you on
Oh baby, keep it strong
You dont have to ask
coz Im the woman thatll give you what you need
Tell me
Swing it, swing it, swing it with me
Come on baby
Swing it, swing it, swing it with me
Do you, do you
Swing it, swing it, swing it with me
Do you
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Do you swing it
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Swing it, swing it, swing it
You can do it
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every one with this writ may be a tyrant; if this commission be legal, a tyrant in a legal manner, also, may control, imprison, or murder any one within the realm.
quote by James Otis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song Without End
Love sings a song,
a song without end.
It can be heard
singing out from everything.
When love sings its song,
a song without end.
Young and old hearts flutter
whenever they hear its call.
The sad and the lonely
under its spell fall.
When love sings its song,
a song without end.
Whose chorus can be heard
as the breeze whispers
among the trees
and all hearts fall
under loves rhapsody.
25 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Last Poor Man
All suffering falls on a
sinful world without pointing
on where to be
sickness and saddness has made
me popular; poverty makes
me feel pride of lack
I am not rich yet my
heart creeps into poverty
My suffering has grant
my generation riches and
success; my tyrant is
here speak not of wealth
close the doors and windows
lets talk in te`te-a-te`te
My home is inside his
oath my tyrant speak in fate
and call me a poorman
No the price must be
paid for my success
i have seen the
twenty twenty vision
i am needless of my
tyrant fate,
my struggle is my glory.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Life is this
Swimming is
Not excise...
Swimming is
Not hobby...
Swimming is
Not work...
Swimming is
Life...
Yes...
Swimming is
Life...
For all fishess....
Boat and ship
Without breath...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Not Always True!
Loud cries of protest.
New baby greets the real world.
Most reluctantly.
Though very welcome.
He would much rather be back.
Where he used to be.
Safe and warm inside
His own private paradise.
That's why he complains.
He soon gains control
Master of his universe
Beloved tyrant.
He will have to learn.
That his will is not the law.
As we all had to.
Only one small part.
Of a loving family.
If he is lucky.
Tuesday,31 July 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Circle Of Tyrants
After the battle is over
And the sand's drunken the blood
All what there remains
Is the bitterness of delusion
The immortality of the Gods
Sits at their side
As they leave the walls behind
To reach the jewels gleam
The days have come
When the steel will rule
And upon his head
A crown of gold
Your hand wields the might
The tyrant's the precursor
You carry the will
As the morning is near
I sing the ballads
Of victory and defeat
I hear the tales
Of frozen mystery
The new kingdoms rise by the circle of the tyrants
In the land of darkness the warrior, that was me
Grotesque glory none will (ever) see them fall
And hunts and wars are like everlasting shadows
Where the winds cannot reach the tyrant's might was born
And often I look back with tears in my eyes
Grotesque glory none will (ever) see them fall
And hunts and wars are like everlasting shadows
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.
quote by Lord Byron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Oarsman
Where is the coast?
Just in the boat
With no one around
He sings even a song!
In western horizon
The king 'Sun' sleeps alone
Merry clouds go brown
(So far) He sings the song!
A shower of rain
Can't let him pain
Miss.Windy starts to frown
(So far) He sings the song!
With force of angry waves
Even rocks can be damaged
How about his wooden bound?
(So far) He sings the song!
His old rudder shapes him solo
How to manage to and fro
Further rowing, no allowed
(So far) He sings the song!
Oh, my dear oarsman!
I wanna know your song
Give people to be strong
Like you, never down! !
poem by Eindaray Kyaw
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Sad Song
(copyright nazareth, tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Every song I sings a sad song,
Every note seems out of key,
Every line I write falls out of rhyme,
Since youre far away from me.
Every night I watch the stars fall,
Watch them till Im fast asleep,
But when Im sleeping, Im not dreaming,
Since youre far away from me.
Oh but I need you,
Honest I do,
You know that I miss you,
Ill always miss you.
Every song I hears a sad song,
Every word applies to me,
Loneliness is something I know about,
Since youre far away from me.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swing high and swing low
Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow -
It's off for a sailor thy father would go;
And it's here in the harbor, in sight of the sea,
He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me:
"Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow!"
Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow -
It's oh for the waiting as weary days go!
And it's oh for the heartache that smiteth me when
I sing my song over and over again:
"Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow!"
"Swing high and swing low " -
The sea singeth so,
And it waileth anon in its ebb and its flow;
And a sleeper sleeps on to that song of the sea
Nor recketh he ever of mine or of me!
"Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow -
'T was off for a sailor thy father would go!"
poem by Eugene Field
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Cruelty Can Conquer
Do not blame the people for their cruelty,
Their trustworthiness makes them cruel.
A moaning and lamenting is occurring
Within the ranks of the community.
May a tyrant be judged as a hazard
To save the folk, the folk of love and affection.
Some will desert, some of clay shall break,
But most endure with proper cruelty.
For the tyrant is no more a friend,
And they are no more friends with their enemies,
The enemies of the slain are defeated,
And with the cruelty, with the trust of conquest.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Gigantic daughter of the West,
Gigantic daughter of the West,
We drink to thee across the flood,
We know thee most, we love thee best,
For art thou not of British blood?
Should war's mad blast again be blown,
Permit not thou the tyrant powers
To fight thy mother here alone,
But let thy broadsides roar with ours.
Hands all round!
God the tyrant's cause confound!
To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends,
And the great name of England, round and round.
'O rise, our strong Atlantic sons,
When war against our freedom springs!
O speak to Europe through your guns!
They can be understood by kings.
You must not mix our Queen with those
That wish to keep their people fools;
Our freedom's foemen are her foes,
She comprehends the race she rules.
Hands all round!
God the tyrant's cause confound!
To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends,
And the great cause of Freedom, round and round.'
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Song of an Angel
Be still, and listen to the wind,
As it whispers through the leaves,
For the gentle song of angels,
Is blowing in the breeze.
A song that sings of little hands,
That did so many jobs,
Hands that now are gently clasped,
Within the grasp of God.
A song that sings of a little heart,
That always poured out love,
A heart that now is full of joy,
As God holds him up above.
A song that sings of little smiles,
That brightened many days,
Smiles that now warm the hearts,
Of angels on their way.
A song that sings of a little boy,
That always was a friend,
A little boy who's shown us all,
That God's love never ends.
Be still, and listen to the wind,
As it whispers through these leaves,
For the gentle song of an angel,
Is blowing in its breeze.
-In loving memory of Charles McMichael
poem by Jean Penner
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The First Extra
A Waltz Song.
O sway, and swing, and sway,
And swing, and sway, and swing!
Ah me, what bliss like unto this,
Can days and daylight bring?
A rose beneath your feet
Has fallen from my head;
Its odour rises sweet,
All crushed it lies, and dead.
O Love is like a rose,
Fair-hued, of fragrant breath;
A tender flow'r that lives an hour,
And is most sweet in death.
O swing, and sway, and swing,
And rise, and sink, and fall!
There is no bliss like unto this,
This is the best of all.
Listen to The Song of Invisible Bird!
Listen to The Song of that invisible bird,
The Song of great singer several souls heard,
Sings sitting on tree of life, hidden under every leaf,
Its song go unheard by those pretend deaf,
Ever tuned to that great music,
Everytime it sings same song,
But with different lyrics and different words,
Autumn may come followed by spring,
Leaves may fall to make way to new,
Each leaf has that song, the bird flies under cover of green leaf,
When old yellow one fall,
Green leaves should learn from the fall of the old!
One can wait flowers to bloom,
Or can reap all fruits mature,
or remove immature buds or raw fruits,
The tree of life spread to several worlds,
One parallel to other,
Makes one world happy by another,
some may cross and intersect,
only to give or take life!
Come an sit near a flower,
Look at frog waiting for insects to come,
The invisible bird sings its song,
May it be heart of the flower,
It is flower for you,
source of nectar to insects,
place where frog gets its food!
It is cage for that bird ready to fly,
enters as nectar into insect,
and it enters frog as insects,
and moves along food chain,
It may be invisible to these eyes,
Yet it has its flight can be seen,
Look at your heart, the same bird sing,
Who knows when and where is its next flight?
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Impetus [Avânt]
As ships on the wide sea stop quickly for a while
Whenever the wind drops and sails perched on the mast
Hang down in calm repose under the moon's big smile,
But the bright silver rays in vain on them are cast;
As violin curbs its sound when strings too loose do lie
And hardly one can hear, as if he's fast asleep,
Nice and delightful notes, which fly above or die,
And all pervade the mind and their sweet charm is deep;
So in the griefs of life the poet cannot write,
His heart is in great pain and blood flows down his chest,
Dislikes the things around, deems nothing is all right,
And in his frozen soul all feelings are at rest.
The same is with the sailor aboard the ship that stopped,..
When the big boat was swimming to rise high he could dare,
The water reflects gently his lifeless looks that dropped
In its amazing mirror that stretches everywhere.
Those moments are so sad! Because beneath the stars
The poet's injured heart will quickly fall asleep
Like the majestic sea, but it is full of scars,
Because regret and hope can't sing in him, down deep.
But, as when calm dispels and breeze will blow instead
And suddenly the ship will tremble on the waves,
And its inflated sails will carry it ahead
Like if it were a steed which for free rein then craves;
So when the inspiration abruptly rise and shines
And unseen wings will carry them all up in the sky,
Will reappear on paper the ribbons of sweet lines,
And out of heavy body the soul begins to fly.
Lyrism and satire will play on his wide brow
Like thunders thrown by God down here with so much art,
And he, a novel Moses, will climb the mountain now
To plant some other laws inside the human heart.
No matter that behind is so much spite and hate
He laughs when evil men say words of him malign,
So high he aims and, lo, he is so bold and great,
That everything encircles: be earthly or divine!
And harmony he sees in all the worlds that live,
He penetrates the dark of the eternal All;
How matter boils he finds and passes through the sieve,
To follow in the depths the comets that will fall;
The science's frontiers he always will defy...
The atoms come to life, he feels them living there...
He hears when they are glad or when they wail and cry
In their eternal dance performed with so much care.
Among the people comes and knows to soothe them all,
His song will overflow and like the hyssop's bud,
Will clean and wash away the passions that enthrall...
Offense cannot afflict him, he's not afraid of flood;
Feels pity for all those whose soul will surely die,
The tyrant stops at once when with his whip is struck,
But, woe! He who will live forever in the sky
In life has got no bread, no chance and no good luck.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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