Tower Of Babel
Annabel Lee
Is the name on the label,
Reckon it ought to be
Tower of Babel
,
For there ain't a lingo
That's spoke or swore in
From San Domingo
To Tuti-
cor
-in,
From the Pole or near it
To Pernambuker
But what you'll 'ear it
On board this 'ooker.
And I give you my word, in our port watch
There's English and Irish and Welsh and Scotch,
A Finn, a Swede and a Portuguee,
A Frenchy, a Bim and a heathen Chinee,
And a son of a Dutch, son of a Greek,
Son of a nigger from Martinique.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
From The Tower Of Babel
From the tower of babel
let me see you rise...
one by one
...by one.
From the tower of babel
let me see you
united...
divided...
united...
again and again
...and again.
From the tower of babel
let me see the world
lightened...
darkened...
lightened...
again and again
...and again.
From the tower of babel
let me see you rise
...my dear.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whip-smart
Im gonna tell my son to grow up pretty as the grass is green
And whip smart as the english channels wide
And Im gonna tell my son to keep his money in his mattress
And his watch on any hand between his thighs
And Im gonna lock my son up in a tower till I write my whole lifes story on the back of his big brown eyes
When they do the double dutch, thats them dancing
When they do the double dutch, thats them dancing
Im gonna tell my son to join a circus so that death is cheap
And games are just another way of life
And Im gonna tell my son to be a prophet of mistakes
Because for every truth there are half a million lies
And Im gonna lock my son up in a tower till he learns to let his hair down
Far enough to climb outside
When they do the double dutch, thats them dancing
When they do the double dutch, thats them dancing
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Domingo
We are here
In this holy cave today
To celebrate
The reincarnation
Of domingo de santa clara
The man who convinced us
That there is no lord
For his name is buddha, allah, shiva, jahve [yahweh? ]
Outside our bodies
We are god
cause only we can create the idea
Of his existence in our holy brains
[? ]
[? ]
[? ]
Let us pray to ourselves and our spirits!
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo of santa clara
You made us believe
That you are no phantom
When without
The slightest spot of a thousand nations
You sprayed your blood of domingo
We all know
Domingo of santa clara
Will be born today, tomorrow, and the day after
Billions of times
til the end of the universe
Here with a smile on his face
As the rest of our species watches
The catastrophe
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Domingo
We are here
In this holy cave today
To celebrate
The reincarnation
Of domingo de santa clara
The man who convinced us
That there is no lord
For his name is buddha, allah, shiva, jahve [yahweh? ]
Outside our bodies
We are god
cause only we can create the idea
Of his existence in our holy brains
[? ]
[? ]
[? ]
Let us pray to ourselves and our spirits!
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo of santa clara
You made us believe
That you are no phantom
When without
The slightest spot of a thousand nations
You sprayed your blood of domingo
We all know
Domingo of santa clara
Will be born today, tomorrow, and the day after
Billions of times
til the end of the universe
Here with a smile on his face
As the rest of our species watches
The catastrophe
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
Domingo you show me just nothing
Like no one before
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Irish-English
Having stolen all the goods and gone,
The English are back in Ireland
Seeking the good of man
In folksong of the past.
Irish in acadamia
Have left the country behind
Preferring to live where the air comes in,
Leave the stench to the English mind.
It's neither one thing nor another
But a blend that works the best.
But when it comes to English-Irish
The latter think the opposite's blessed.
Living by the nostrils the Irish whiff the past,
'The English they can have it. By the future we are cast.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cuz I'm Black? ? ?
Is it cuz I'm black that you think I'm poor
Is it cuz I'm black that we can't afford
A car, a house, and have a liittle more
Or does stereotypes take over and racism pour
into suburb neighborhoods that are scared of 'us'
Black people that is, where crime is a must
Nigger! Nigger! The #1 word
for white upper class to use as a term
To make us feel low and non educated
To make us feel weak, it so complicated
Nigger this, nigger that, the word is overrated
It was used in Africa, which equal segregation.
Separated us from the whites and so much to tell
That 75% of us is locked in jails
for doing pity stuff that will take our trails
of life we can have to just do right
Go to school Graduate, and get paid right.
Its not cuz I'm black, It's called nigger mentality
That causes us black people to fail so drastically.
Don't get me wrong black is beautiful
We need to work together. Come on....honestly.
poem by Sharon Goodwin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Luck Of The Irish
Ok, one, two, three, one two, three
If you had the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead.
A thousand years of torture and hunger,
Drove the people away from their land.
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british brigands!
Goddamned!
Goddamned!
If you could keep voices like flowers,
There's be shamrock all over the world.
If you could drink dreams like irish streams,
Then the world would be as high as the mountain of morn.
In the 'pool they told us the story
How the english divided the land.
Of the pain and the death and the glory
And the poets of auld eireland.
If we could make chains with the morning dew,
The world would be like galway bay.
Let's walk over rainbows like leprechauns,
The world would be one big blarney stone.
Why the hell are the english there anyway?
As they kill with god on their side!
Blame it all on the kids and the i.r.a.
As the bastards commit genocide!
Aye! aye!
Genocide!
Okay!
You should have the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead.
One more time!
You should have the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead,
Hey, yes, you'd wish you were english instead.
- "thank you!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think now, more than anytime I can remember, bands are sounding pretty similar whether they're English or American, from Manchester or London... or Leeds or Welsh or Irish.
quote by Graham Coxon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Welsh Testament
All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter?
I spoke a tongue that was passed on
To me in the place I happened to be,
A place huddled between grey walls
Of cloud for at least half the year.
My word for heaven was not yours.
The word for hell had a sharp edge
Put on it by the hand of the wind
Honing, honing with a shrill sound
Day and night. Nothing that Glyn Dwr
Knew was armour against the rain's
Missiles. What was descent from him?
Even God had a Welsh name:
He spoke to him in the old language;
He was to have a peculiar care
For the Welsh people. History showed us
He was too big to be nailed to the wall
Of a stone chapel, yet still we crammed him
Between the boards of a black book.
Yet men sought us despite this.
My high cheek-bones, my length of skull
Drew them as to a rare portrait
By a dead master. I saw them stare
From their long cars, as I passed knee-deep
In ewes and wethers. I saw them stand
By the thorn hedges, watching me string
The far flocks on a shrill whistle.
And always there was their eyes; strong
Pressure on me: You are Welsh, they said;
Speak to us so; keep your fields free
Of the smell of petrol, the loud roar
Of hot tractors; we must have peace
And quietness.
Is a museum
Peace? I asked. Am I the keeper
Of the heart's relics, blowing the dust
In my own eyes? I am a man;
I never wanted the drab role
Life assigned me, an actor playing
To the past's audience upon a stage
Of earth and stone; the absurd label
Of birth, of race hanging askew
About my shoulders. I was in prison
Until you came; your voice was a key
Turning in the enormous lock
Of hopelessness. Did the door open
To let me out or yourselves in?
Submitted by Andrew Mayers
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dumb Swede
With barbwire hooch they filled him full,
Till he was drunker than all hell,
And then they peddled him the bull
About a claim they had to sell.
A thousand bucks they made him pay,
Knowing that he had nothing more,
And when he begged it back next day,
And wept! - they kicked him from the door.
They reckoned they were mighty slick,
Them two tinhorns from Idaho;
That poor dumb Swede could swing a pick,
but that was all he'd ever know.
So sitting in a poker game,
They lost the price for which they sold
To that bonehead a poor dud claim
That didn't have a speck of gold.
My story's true as gospel creed
Of these bright boys from Idaho;
They made a sucker of that Swede
And laughed to see the poor boob go,
And work like nigger on his ground,
Bucked by the courage of despair . . .
Till lo! A rich pay-streak he found,
That made him twice a millionaire.
So two smart Alecs, mighty sick,
Begged jobs at fifteen bucks a day.
Then said the Swede: "Give each a pick
And let them sweat to make their pay."
And though he don't know what it means,
Folks call that Swede "magnanimous"
- But picking nuggets big as beans,
you oughta' hear them fellers cuss!
poem by Robert William Service
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Farewell To Annabel
Where did ya go when the snow lay on the ground
What did ya do when the rain began to fall
How did it feel when I looked through your soul
When was the last time you wanted my love
How many nights did you cry your dreams to sleep
Why did you hide what you knew would not stay hidden
How could you put yourself through like you did
Im not the kind that would hold you that way
Drop me a line if ya wake up feelin bad
Im still a friend and Id like to hear from you
Where does it say love should last forever
When was the last time I told that to you
Farewell to annabel, farewell
Farewell to annabel, farewell
Farewell to annabel, fare thee well
Farewell to annabel, farewell
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee (reprise)
Look at me, there has to be
Something more than what they see.
Wholesome and pure,
Also scared and unsure
A poor man's Sandra Dee.
When they criticize and make fun of me,
Can't they see the tears in my smile?
Don't they realize there's just one of me
And it has to last me awhile?
(Sandy speaks to Frenchy when Frenchy comes running)
Hey, Frenchy, could you come over for awhile? And bring your make-up case...
(resumes singing)
Sandy, you must start anew.
Don't you know what you must do?
Hold your head high, take a deep breath and cry
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Label me Not
Label me not
because the color
of my skin.
Label me not
whether I'm fat
or thin.
Label me not
because of my
religious belief.
Label me not
whether I'm strong
or weak.
Label me not
because of
my disability.
Label me not
just except me
for me
Who can doubt that between the English and the French, between the Scotch and the Irish, there are differences of character which have profoundly affected and still affect the course of history?
quote by Goldwin Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things Were Born So Simple Please Do Not Complicate Them
eggs white
a hen keeps them warm
with its feathers
and patience
looking at the busy
worms in the garden
the ants as usual
are not arguing with
the grasshoppers
it is a sunny day
and nothing spoils it
with words
except this one
building stanzas
word upon word
like a tower of babel
expect the scattering
of tribes
of thoughts that
cannot get well
along even with
its own same sound
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nigger, Nigger, Nigger...NIGGUHS
No one bans
Ignorance
Disrespect
Racism and affects,
Of bigotry!
Corporate greed, lies and hypocrisy.
Or crime
Blatant thief
High taxes
Technology that creates suffering.
Degreed fools
The lost of jobs diminishing lifestyles.
Conflicts
Wars
Homelessness to aid those poor.
And there's an uproar,
Over the use of the word NIGGER?
I could care less what you call me!
I've got my pride and dignity intact!
And if it wasn't for 'niggers' being used...
There would be far less greatness
Others abuse and believe
They are better than concepts conceived!
On the backs of 'niggers'
Has enabled many to breathe...
In a false superiority that strengthens
Their self righteousness!
Calling me a 'nigger' doesn't eliminate hatred!
It just exposes the evidence,
Of a lack of self worth!
'Nigger, nigger, nigger! '
NIGGUHS
Everywhere!
Providing psychological comfort!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Luck Of The Irish
If you had the luck of the irish
Youd be sorry and wish you were dead
You should have the luck of the irish
And youd wish you was english instead!
A thousand years of torture and hunger
Drove the people away from their land
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british brigands! goddamn! goddamn!
If you could keep voices like flowers
Thered be shamrock all over the world
If you could drink dreams like irish streams
Then the world would be high as the mountain of morn
In the pool they told us the story
How the english divided the land
Of the pain, the death and the glory
And the poets of auld eireland
If we could make chains with the morning dew
The world would be like galway bay
Lets walk over rainbows like leprechauns
The world would be one big blarney stone
Why the hell are the english there anyway?
As they kill with God on their side
Blame it all on the kids the ira
As the bastards commit genocide! aye! aye! genocide!
If you had the luck of the irish
Youd be sorry and wish you was dead
You should have the luck of the irish
And youd wish you was english instead!
Yes youd wish you was english instead!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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rainbow People
Gone is the church
Gone the steeple
Tower of Babel fell
Good men did rebel
Hearts' spoke as one
‘Neath moon n' sun;
'We're Rainbow People'
ROTMS
View ROTMS poems, images and video at;
rotms.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finn's Favorite Fish (Long Tongue Twister)
Finn's favorite fish's favorite food fell flat.
Finn's favorite fish's favorite food falls for fluid.
Finn's favorite fish's favorite food fed Finn's favorite fish.
Finn's favorite fish falls for Finn's favorite fish's favorite food.
Finn's favorite fish's favorite food falls for Finn's favorite fish.
Finn's favorite fish's favorite food fills Finn's favorite fish.
Finn fishes for Finn's favorite fish's favorite fish food for Finn's favorite fish!
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love —
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me —
Yes! — that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we —
Of many far wiser than we —
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe (1849)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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