Row, Row, Row The Boat
Row, row, row the boat,
gently down the stream
of consciousness, and take close note
of things of which you dream
when working gallingly in galleys,
Ben Hur, condemned to row
until the spirit market rallies,
or falls like Jericho.
Slave, slave, slave, keep writing:
wait not for liberation,
and don’t feel crucified while fighting
lack of inspiration.
Be resurrected when unconscious,
keep jester juices flowing,
on auto-pilot, serving Pontius,
rowing, rowing, rowing.
David West, who is printing the galleys of my forthcoming book Legal Friction: Law, Narrative and Identity Politics in Biblical Israel, sent me an e-mail today which read:
And keep in mind Jack Hawkins’ famous advice to the galley slaves in Ben Hur: “You are all condemned men. We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live.”
9/23/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Related quotes
The Milkman Cometh
When I see the milkman coming,
I don’t experience an intending.
That logically is the upsumming
up messages that I’d be sending,
but if I stopped to ask him where
he might be heading with the jug,
intention with him I would share,
and could not longer this offshrug.
Written while checking the proofs of my forthcoming book, Legal Friction: Law, narrative and Identity Politics in Biblical Israel:
inspired by words of Ludwig Wittgenstein that I cite on page 52:
When I see the milkman coming, I fetch my jug and go to meet him. Do I experience an intending? Not that I know of. (Any more than I try to walk, in order to walk.) But if I stopped and asked, “Where are you going with that jug? ” I should express my intention.
3/3/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Here, Sailor
WHAT ship, puzzled at sea, cons for the true reckoning?
Or, coming in, to avoid the bars, and follow the channel, a perfect
pilot needs?
Here, sailor! Here, ship! take aboard the most perfect pilot,
Whom, in a little boat, putting off, and rowing, I, hailing you,
offer.
poem by Walt Whitman
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There's no earthly way of knowing
There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction they are going!
There's no knowing where they're rowing,
Or which way they river's flowing!
Not a speck of light is showing,
So the danger must be growing,
For the rowers keep on rowing,
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing...
poem by Roald Dahl
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Rowing
A story, a story!
(Let it go. Let it come.)
I was stamped out like a Plymouth fender
into this world.
First came the crib
with its glacial bars.
Then dolls
and the devotion to their plactic mouths.
Then there was school,
the little straight rows of chairs,
blotting my name over and over,
but undersea all the time,
a stranger whose elbows wouldn't work.
Then there was life
with its cruel houses
and people who seldom touched-
though touch is all-
but I grew,
like a pig in a trenchcoat I grew,
and then there were many strange apparitions,
the nagging rain, the sun turning into poison
and all of that, saws working through my heart,
but I grew, I grew,
and God was there like an island I had not rowed to,
still ignorant of Him, my arms, and my legs worked,
and I grew, I grew,
I wore rubies and bought tomatoes
and now, in my middle age,
about nineteen in the head I'd say,
I am rowing, I am rowing
though the oarlocks stick and are rusty
and the sea blinks and rolls
like a worried eyebal,
but I am rowing, I am rowing,
though the wind pushes me back
and I know that that island will not be perfect,
it will have the flaws of life,
the absurdities of the dinner table,
but there will be a door
and I will open it
and I will get rid of the rat insdie me,
the gnawing pestilential rat.
God will take it with his two hands
and embrace it.
As the African says:
This is my tale which I have told,
if it be sweet, if it be not sweet,
take somewhere else and let some return to me.
This story ends with me still rowing.
poem by Anne Sexton
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The Rowing Song
Round the world and home again
That's the sailor's way
Faster faster, faster faster
There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing
Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a–blowing
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a–glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing
Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing.
poem by Roald Dahl
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The good man, though a slave, is free; the wicked, though he reigns, is a slave, and not the slave of a single man, but — what is worse — the slave of as many masters as he has vices.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Slave Nation
my allegation
its alright
slave nation
alright
want to tell ya
all is gone
you're a slave nation
right or wrong
tell
oh
take a moment to tell
oh
slave nation
its alright
you're a slave nation
oh my
its cool
its fine
slave nation
alright
tell
tell
tell me not to tell
wanna tell
slave nation
slave nation
slave nation
slave nation
its alright
isolation
right
oh?
its alright
its alright
its alright
Back to Simple Lyrics & Desktop Wallpapers
Back Home
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A slave
To my lady love, I am a slave;
To my little kid, I am a slave;
To tobacco, I am a slave.
Being a slave is being in grave.
23.102011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Other Self
I am your slave, desire,
I am your slave, pride,
I am your slave, vice,
I am your slave, success.
Get rid of desire, desire said,
Get rid of pride, pride said,
Get rid of vices, honor said,
Get rid of competition, success said.
I will still be the slave of sin,
The slave of matter,
The slave of love,
The slave of myself.
Get rid of sin and lust,
Of matter and love,
And you will get rid of yourself,
Said my other self.
Are you proposing suicide, sadly said myself?
No, I would never do that, said my other self.
Then, what are you trying to say?
Just be yourself.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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Slave 2 The System
Slave) {repeat in song}
Slave, yeah {x2}
Slave 2 the system here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
The only penthouse I can count on's a big black ball and chain
Slave 2 the system, the future's all arranged
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy {x2}
Slave 2 the system
Thompson's my last name, but my daddy's name is Lloyd
The farther back I trace it, the more it becomes null and void
All my life I've struggled just 2 be called a boy
Slave 2 the system, oh what a joy
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy
Hell if I do!
(Oh, U better fetch that water, boy)
Oh, I'm just a slave 2 the system
Here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
Slave 2 the system
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Nature
the day we lay to rest
our beloved slave
with our know how
and free him once
and for all from
all the cruelties
we have subjected him to
the slave who has been
crying day and night
begging for the meaning
of his existence
we would be
able to spare
our consciousness
the privilege to be
stars and moons
heavenly bodies
within this
consciousness
the living and the
non living would carry
on our systems
the intelligent ones would start
calling us 'Mother Nature'
from there, would start
another cycle to liberate slaves
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Slave
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
Listening for your footsteps
Just waiting like a fool
Burning with a fever
Only you can cool
The clock beside my pillow
Has ticked away the night
Like a heartbeat mocking me
Until the light
Gotta stop these thoughts about you
Gotta learn to live without you
Gotta find some freedom for this weary slave
cause Im hungry for you
And Im longing for you
And Im burning for you
I worship your opinions
I imitate your ways
I try to make you grace me
With a word of praise
However much I tell myself
That Im strong and free and brave
Im just another woman
Raised to be a slave
Slave, nothing but a slave
Mind of a slave
Body of a slave
I find I gave away the soul
That I wanted you to save
Im just another woman
Raised to be a slave
Hungry for you
And longing for you
Burning for you
And Im longing for you
Burning for you
And Im yearning for you
Longing for you
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A boat doesn't go forward if each one is rowing their own way.
Given the Oars to Row
Most who have been there will admit...
Fortunes aren't first recognized.
We are too busy looking for the gleam and glitter!
To impress before an acceptance is made.
These are confessions from those experienced.
Those who have paved,
Their own way.
And...
Have learned from many lessons.
Some await for titles to be sought.
To dropp jaws and bug eyes.
With a round of expressed applause.
Expected.
And those unafraid to claw themselves through tunnels,
Usually find daylight quicker...
Than someone seeking to protect manicured nails.
Or spend time shopping,
For the right survival outfit.
And the ones who sit wishing,
For their ship to sail in.
May lose their opportunity altogether.
Since they mistake someone rowing a boat,
As insignificant.
And the rower of the boat,
Rows away.
Knowing who has the authority,
To evict everyone from their lofty dreams!
Having been given the oars to row...
In any direction desired.
And...
A choice to be selective.
Those decisions to make,
Escapes away,
Eventually...
From the vision of most folks!
'Henry?
Is there any caviar left?
The order I placed for ham sandwiches,
Seems to be a bit late! '
~We are out of all supplies.
The owner of this island should be arriving soon.
He's rowing a boat.
He also comes to invite us to aboard his yacht,
For cocktails later.
He should be arriving soon.
With the provisions.
If you see him,
Overlook his appearance.
They can be quite deceiving,
You know? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enslaved
Alright alright this life is what you make it
Dont slide...you cant compromise
You click your heels 3 times imagination goes wild...
You cant analyze
So be sure that you are makin the best of what that you have
The truth is all within yourself
Dont be a slave ....a slave to someone else
Higher higher its where we want to be in our minds...
It will mesmerize
Its pleasure power thats what we devour....
You can have it crystallize
Now its time to look at what that youve done with your life
And that path you found and followed in
Yourself I wont be a slave...a slave to anyone
The question is
When its all done
Who will stand
And who will run
The answer is on my tongue
I wont be a slave to anyone
So be sure that you are makin the best of what you have
The truth is all within yourself
Dont be a slave....a slave to somone else
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wherever Your Nose Went
Are you feeling down and low?
As if clinging onto thin rope,
And your mind wants to leave all consciousness...
Behind with no excuses to go loco.
Well,
Take those oars out of the water.
Stop rowing that boat and let it float.
That's right!
Sit in a position to let the wind be at your back.
Let go of your hold,
On those things that make you feel trapped.
And remember,
You ordered everything in your life that shows.
Have you forgotten that?
You may as well relax and accept the facts.
Wherever your nose went...
You can not say you did not with an open mind,
Followed.
Nor can you honestly portray,
One now who has been betrayed.
And even if you did decide to hide behind lies,
Only your life is the one being 'ultimately' affected.
Truth is inescapable!
No matter how many nose jobs you can afford.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only the guy who isn't rowing has time to rock the boat.
quote by Jean-Paul Sartre
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mock Charon. Dialogue
CHA. W.
W. Charon! thou slave! thou fooll! thou cavaleer!
CHA. A slave! a fool! what traitor's voice I hear?
W. Come bring thy boat. CH. No, sir. W. No! sirrah, why?
CHA. The blest will disagree, and fiends will mutiny
At thy, at thy [un]numbred treachery.
W. Villain, I have a pass which who disdains,
I will sequester the Elizian plains.
CHA. Woes me, ye gentle shades! where shall I dwell?
He's come! It is not safe to be in hell.
CHORUS.
Thus man, his honor lost, falls on these shelves;
Furies and fiends are still true to themselves.
CHA. You must, lost fool, come in. W. Oh, let me in!
But now I fear thy boat will sink with my ore-weighty sin.
Where, courteous Charon, am I now? CHA. Vile rant!
At the gates of thy supreme Judge Rhadamant.
DOUBLE CHORUS OF DIVELS.
Welcome to rape, to theft, to perjurie,
To all the ills thou wert, we canot hope to be;
Oh, pitty us condemned! Oh, cease to wooe,
And softly, softly breath, least you infect us too.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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The Blue Boat
The Blue Boat
When winter rain falls
The lake in the vale fills up
Clear as a child’s tear
Where a blue rowing boat floats
Whishing it were a schooner
When the wind blows
You can if you try see masts
And its boastful sails
As it crosses vast expanses
Of dreams and secret longings
poem by Oskar Hansen
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