The Irony of Bloody Sweet
They spend more
huge budgets for war
excited about the prize
a lucrative enterprise
weapons in silos
and despair in ghettos
They caress warheads
foreplay of the living dead
Then missile rain
And splattered flesh
sweet blood stain
as ‘civilizations’ clash
Genocide redefined
Holocaust modified
Extraordinary rendition
Quaint Geneva Convention
Torture legalized
Free speech penalized
Tyranny coated in civility
threatens true democracy
………..
Gods of commerce
Trading the curse
Commercial religion
Converts souls to confusion
Maybe to oblivion?
…………
Sweat shop slavery
In third world country
Inferior toxic goods
Flooding the hoods
virus’ manufactured
as vaccines administered
earth base ravaged
resources mismanaged
psychos are rulers
worshipping the dollars
Elections bought and sold
Trading souls for gold
They get multiple orgasms
Delirious with the fever of sadism......
poem by Lyre Bleus
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Related quotes
Last Living Souls
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Take a gun
Or how you say
That's no way you behave
Just a law, a new begin
Sing a song that doesn't sin
And it grows
Hey, you know
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last to get away to some another day?
Do we know
Well, we know
Doesn't seem to be complete
Are we, are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Get up, get up, get up, get up...
What you say?
Cause all I was on
I got it down wrong
I see myself to get
And the Lord, seeing all now
Can you take us in
The part that comin' on
The coldest man doesn't see it's all
We go to the car
I see you walk to the far
And when you get there do you see
You fit the last you need on me
Cause we're the last living souls
We're the last living souls
Yeah, we're the last living souls
We're the last living souls
song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Only Export From One Age To The Other
the only export you can do
from one age to the other
from this world to the next
without getting any less an acquirer
is - a religion
the only all time export
the world has ever sold
with all its soul, blood and sweat
to another age is - a religon
the only export
from one age to the other
one would kill - with heart, mind and soul -
to prove what one has bought
is the real thing is - a religion
the only intangible commodity
yet powerful enough
to blow up the whole world
is - a religion
the only export
from one age to the other
wrapped in so much sweetness
tasted with as much bitterness
here and (beyond, if you have bought one)
is without doubt - religion
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Jesus Christ Touched My Heart
Jesus Christ touched my heart
each expressed sentiment rang true
when Jesus spoke each thought
asked ‘Who Will We Worship Now'?
each parable as I read I instantly knew
each parable questioned souls me and you
each parable declared truth acts we do
materialism greed preaches ego success
materialism preaches individual achievement
materialism lives in sanctuaries of gold
materialism loves windows of colored glass
materialism hates getting manicured hands dirty
materialism lives on prestige side of towns...
It has decades this soul bothered
that all the world's great religions
build huge temples to their God
or God's beautiful though shaped
by worship honouring host hands
many built in worship great houses
to their God or Gods who need
no houses to shelter chill starved
mortal suffering dirt dying bodies;
but so many temples built so few
homes for orphans the sick the poor
living flesh souls God does adore.
Where do you think noble God
in truth is to be most found?
In houses of worship countless
built by hands of his own clay?
Or in hospitals, orphanages,
soup kitchens, simple homes
of the poor; and the homeless
streets where beloved poor
so often fall asleep desperate?
Remember greed rich those first
with men are often last with God.
Jesus is most often recorded in
the company of the poor those not
approved by cream of society; not
among glittering robes of the elite
in their palaces. What example do
you think Jesus was giving? Two
of the reasons Rome hated religion
Christianity were, early Christians
refused to worship Rome's rulers as gods
and Christianity taught the slave was
equal to the master. Two lessons
world leaders so often still resent.
Even today we can still judge best
civilizations, a country by how,
they treat the least of their citizens.
Honour this scale who measures
up, who would God approve?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When Laws Are A Crime Against Humanity
Is it always lawful to follow every letter of the law?
Is it ever lawful to deliberately break a nation's law?
What if laws themselves are a crime against humanity?
Some say may my country ever be right but my country
right or wrong this sentiment will accept support tyranny.
I the Carl Schurz version do advocate firmly resolutely
'My country, right or wrong; if right, to be kept right;
and if wrong, to be set right.' Is a moral conscience fight.
To slaves who tremble fearfully obey unjust laws
I say many famous past so called great civilizations;
passed laws making it legal to own fellow human beings
live stock to be bought sold beaten killed at whim of owners;
to aid free slaves help in any way was against grim cruel laws
to be caught in such attempts meant torture death sentences;
yet the right of all human beings to religious personal freedoms is
a sacred indelible right great civilizations uphold high principles.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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They seem to have forgotten that, and are back saying the only purpose of P2P networks is for illegal trading of owned goods. We claim part of the reason for P2P is for legal trading of what ought to be in public domain. And what is in public domain in many cases.
quote by John Perry Barlow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet- There Are Some Righteous Ones
There are goodmen who can't be bought with ease;
There are quite some who can't tell lies at all;
There are some souls who want just mental peace;
There are some ones who will not ever fall.
There are some men who labour hard and sweat;
There are some ones who get a paltry sum;
There are some souls who stay always in debt;
There are quite some who take whatev'r may come.
There are some men who trudge all through their life;
There are some ones who sacrifice their lives;
There are some souls who love God more in strife;
There are quite some who resist many wives.
There are some souls who gain heaven on earth;
There are ones who make earth heaven by birth.
poem by John Celes
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Auri Sacra Fames
Now that the gods are dead—where shall we find us a god?
Myths of the Greek Olympus have sunk in the surge of Time;
And Jehovah, the God of Wrath, who stayed the sun at His nod;
And Jesus, the Nazarene, preaching a dream sublime.
Worship and form may live, practice and faith have fled.
Where shall we find us a god—now that the gods are dead?
What of the Old exists but feels the touch of the New?
Thousands of voices shout: where is the voice that leads?
Thro’ the wreathing mists of night will the grey of dawn be true,
In the age of vague unrest, strivings, and shattered creeds?
Where the children turn with scorn from the paths their fathers trod,
Now that the gods are dead, where shall we find us a god?
Gone are the mists of old in the light of the larger day!
Gone is the foolish hope, the trust in a Power above!
Science has swept the heavens and brushed religion away!
What need we hope or fear? Warfare is clothed like Love!
Priestcraft is but a trade—souls can be bought and sold!
Why should we seek for a god—now that our god is Gold?
Great were the gods of eld—a greater than all is near!
Noblest of all the powers which ruled o’er the soul of man!
Centuries paved the way, now the ideal is here
Product of all the aeons that rolled since the world began!
Millions have toiled for this with sufferings manifold.
This is the triumph of time—the god of the world is Gold!
Worship before his feet and kneel in his holy place,
For his altar is on the hearth and the rolling world is his throne!
With the throb of a votary’s pulse beats the heart of the human race,
From the lips of the child at play sounds the creed we have called our own.
Gather, O sons of men, but not like the men of old:
Savages worshipped honour—we have no god but Gold.
Gather, O sons of men! let us kneel at the sacred shrine.
Beauty was won by deeds—now it is bought and sold!
Justice was deemed of God—now it is scarce divine!
Honour dearer than life—what is honour to Gold?
O daughters, sisters, and wives! beauty was meant to sell!
Let us call the blessing of Heaven on the marriages made in Hell!
Over the marriage chime, and over the requiem’s sigh,
Into the peace of home enters the roar of the mart.
Barter whilst day be day, ere night, when no man may buy!
Nothing too high or low in a world of culture and art!
This is the crowning age, born of the centuries fled
Age of “Sweetness and Light”—now that the gods are dead!
Souls of the mighty dead who lived and died for the right,
Genius inspired of heaven to battle for human need—
These are the days of the dawn, the dawn of diviner light,
When the child at its mother’s breast is lisping the modern creed—
If haply thine eyes may gaze on the paths which thy feet have trod,
Behold, in a godless age, we have sought and found us a god!
Deep from a million throats rises the strain sublime—
“Justice is for the rich, patience is for the poor ;
Wealth is the only good, want is the only crime;
Beauty is for the old if but the price be sure.”
Deep in the whole world’s heart festers the cursèd creed.
Yea, though the gods be dead, we have found us a god indeed!
Better the clash of steel and the flag of battle unfurled!
Better the roar of guns and death for the future’s sake!
Than that the curse of Gold should canker the heart of the world.
Where is the voice of the leader? When will the people wake?
Nay! let us fold our hands! Madman, what fool would blight
The star of an age whose Christ is Moloch, the Ammonite?
Nay! for the day draws near when all shall not worship Gold!
Honour shall not be bought, wealth shall not make the man.
All have not turned away from the truths which were loved of old!
All have not toiled in vain since the toil of the world began!
All have not laid their souls at the feet of the idol red.
Some have remembered God—now that the gods are dead
poem by George Essex Evans
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Shop, she shops!
Once she constantly smiled
Bought cloths and jewelry that gave her style
Shop, shop, shop
She shopped till she dropped
Shop, shop, shop
She just could not seem to stop
Her credit was on top
Her spending way rocket up
She paid with cash or credit card
This Lady was absolutely shopping mad
Shoping malls!
Markets stalls!
Shoes, clothing, and handbags she bought all year long
Spend, spend and spend daily was her beloved song
Shop, shop, shop
She now shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
This lady has now put a stop
Today is different shopping expedition
This time spending with supervision
No more that crazy spending addiction
Her credit card is cut
Her goods seized, the whole lot
Today she spends, her pockets hurt!
She has become street wise
Haggling with each price
She has become precise
About what she needs and not what is nice
Shop, shop, shop
She shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
Her spending has taken a big drop!
This lady has now put a stop to shop!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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India’s Sixtieth Independence Day
Though sixty years have passed off well,
After India’s independence,
There are places, problems like hell:
Let Indians rethink, be wise hence!
Problems of caste, community,
Sex, water-sharing between states,
Corruption in bureaucracy,
Fights for resources, envy, hates!
Our Father Gandhi got freedom,
After immense struggle, blood-shed,
We realize his work seldom:
Our patriotism seems dead!
Let’s rediscover our values;
Let better sense prevail in us;
Let’s give the world some better news;
Let not our poorer brethren curse!
Our country has done well always;
Our nation has achieved in spheres;
Our democracy has strong base;
Let’s shed our inhibitions, fears!
’Tis time to strengthen our world-ties;
’Tis time to work for global peace;
’Tis time to give up every vice;
’Tis time to fight our greed, disease.
We have a glorious heritage;
We ought to spread love everywhere;
We mustn’t live in a selfish-cage;
Our souls must breathe the freedom’s air!
poem by John Celes
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Silver Is Metal Used To Kill Demon Souls
gold gold is the fever metal
for the love of gold shining in their eyes
men resort to violent base morals
gold lust will turn men's
hearts to savage beasts
gold is not a beautiful metal
of salvation
curse of death men's
gold haunts
generations of men
silver silver is redemption metal
thirty pieces of silver payment
price for betrayal of prophet Christ
in blood of Christ
silver is granted power over evil
silver is metal
used to kill demon souls
silver not gold
is salvation metal
with power to slay evil
poem by Terence George Craddock
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On AIDS
Why get the stigma by your carelessness?
Why hold your life and that of others’ in harness?
Why spread the virus through life-saving blood?
Why pluck a flower when ’tis just a bud?
A victim like yourself, why make your spouse?
Why disturb harmony of your own house?
Why pass the virus to your new-born child?
The disease has no cure and could run wild!
The AIDS virus does not spare anyone;
The victim will meet his/ her grave quite soon;
Others around them too suffer (no less):
The curse could leave many a life in mess!
Go test your blood if you have slightest doubt;
Good change of life, counseling brings about;
Adhere to ART for life and live;
Promising future, new vaccines could give!
poem by John Celes
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Song of The Coffle Gang
This song is said to be sung by Slaves, as they are chained in gangs,
when parting from friends for the far off South-children taken from
parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters.
See these poor souls from Africa,
Transported to America:
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, will you go along with me?
We are stolen and sold to Georgia, go sound the jubilee.
See wives and husbands sold apart,
The children's screams!-it breaks my heart;
There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?
There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.
O, gracious Lord? when shall it be,
That we poor souls shall all be free?
Lord, break them Slavery powers-will you go along with me?
Lord, break them Slavery powers, go sound the jubilee.
Dear Lord! dear Lord! when Slavery'll cease,
Then we poor souls can have our peace;
There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?
There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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We must uphold the promise of Roosevelt, Truman, Kennedy, Johnson, Carter, and Clinton and never allow the President and his Republican friends to threaten Social Security by putting it on the Wall Street trading block.
John Kerry in Speech at Democratic Convention (31 May 2002)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child of the Snows
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.
Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.
And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When Donald Duck traded his wings for arms, was he trading up or trading down?
quote by Doug Coupland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child of the Snows
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.
Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.
And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Truth Is Calling
There's a nation of lost souls,
who dwell in pride
and fill themselves with emptiness,
to declare light where it dwells not.
There's a home of thieves,
who trade their souls
in exchange for vanity
that blinds their eyes with satiety.
There a slum of immorality:
Colored with coated beauty,
crowded with swooning sex pests,
raising the desires, filling their passions.
There's an empire of rulers,
whose hearts flame with tyranny
and their minds racing with greed,
planning a feast on their subjects.
There's a land of thirst,
a thirst for knowledge.
There's a wilderness of hunger,
a hunger for wisdom.
poem by Timothy muggaga
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I Am Sick......
i am sick of your justice...
sick of dead bodies strewn,
sick of your bursts of gunfire,
and your bombs without conscience.
sick of the napalm fingers of your equality,
trading flesh for nickels and dime.
sick of your powder and your pills,
sick of the rape of the young girl
beneath your flag!
i am sick of your nuclear bibles,
sick of your buying and trading.
i am sick of the pound of your oil rigs,
sick of the stink of your morality.
i am sick of your hanging trees,
your courtrooms stacked.
i am sick of the money you sleep with,
sick of your colorless freedom.
i am sick of your smokestacks gone silent.
sick of your riot squads gassing.
i am sick of the amendments you've twisted,
sick of your hate and your prejudice...
i am sick of your slavery,
your prisons, your human rights violations.
i am sick of your political lies....
revolution, by common bond,
the choice of integrity, or death!
the dignity of the human soul demands,
that we live or we die!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Evergreen India
Land rich in Traditions and Culture
Proud of its Past, Present and Future
Invaded for Jems, Spices and Terrain
Agricultural prosperity, serene beauty, monsoon Rain
Indigo, Tamarind, Sandalwood, Pepper, Silk, Diamonds, Gold
Many Countries couldnot its prosperity Behold
Turmeric, Mango, Pearls, Corals, Ivory, Rubies, Emeralds
Reigning high, Vast Treasures sent Heralds
Scriptures, Sculptures, Festivals, Feasts, Dance
You can Enjoy the whole in a glace
Poetry, Astrology, Sports, Yoga, Mathamatics, Science
A sweet note amidst noise, a deep silence
Believe in Simlpe Living, Giving and Forgiving
True Art, Commerce and Science of Living
Rarest to common Flora and Fauna
To the Earth its the Corona
People are the true asset
The Compassion you will never forget
Where the Holy Ganges cleanses our souls
Music of the Land soothes our souls
These are just a few things as a glimpse
The essence of the land is immense
Let my Land be Peaceful and Evergreen
Shall Be, As it Was, Is and Has Ever Been.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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Sadism
To inflict and enjoy it
Is alone not a sadism.
To humiliate, to tease, to joke,
To make fun of others
Are too in a way sadism.
Violent foreplay is of no exception.
25.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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