The scabbard is content to be dull when it protects the keenness of the sword.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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He that strikes with the sword shall be stricken with the scabbard.
A good sword is the one left in its scabbard.
Good sword has often been in poor scabbard.
Scottish Gaelic proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who draws his sword against his prince must throw away his scabbard.
Whosoever draws his sword against the prince must throw the scabbard away.
Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wit in women is apt to have bad consequences; like a sword without a scabbard, it wounds the wearer and provokes assailants.
quote by Elizabeth Montagu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dignity
at par
with you
my equal
in this fight
you are
so gentle
when i
lose the grip of
my sword and it falls
on the ground
you have the courage
to pick it up
for me and tell
me
i need it most now
and then
the point of the sword
now faces
frozen at the eye
of my heart
i stare
coldly and i perspire
to the thought
of my death
at this point
you say
tnanks it is fair
and i look at
you again
at par
shoulder to shoulder
my equal
you let me go
you put your sword
in your scabbard
and take the stride
on your white horse
and leave me
agape my mouth
opens
you are at par
with me
my equal
you have all the chance
to kill me at once
but you didn't
you make me live
now
a new man
a fighter rising from his fall
gentle and
brave as ever
to fight
my own wars.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pleas of a Claymore I
In my sedentary ineptitude,
I shall acquaint you with
The uncouth wails of a claymore
With the hissing sounds in the air
Of its unabashed bashings
Slicing through the verdigris of reticence
Swallowed, like serrated daggers
And the throat that bled the anarchy
That had always coiled in the underground
Grottos of a stagnant river.
I shall ring the sleeping bells,
With the shrills and clatters
Spewing the turbulent climates
Of a claymore in a warfare
That he vied for, like his own
And of a greater mayhem
When is he is not desirable
Pleasant and wanted,
And remained sheathed
Effacing incorrigible thousand winks
In the mausoleum of his scabbard
That pierced through the veneer
Of impassable platinum.
Have you ever seen a saber?
Obstinately lacerating its throat
In emitting the anguish
Into the moon as he raised
Its head to wedge the enemy;
A phantasmagoria of an adversary
In an amorphous shape
For he is an abused vessel
Of a blind tormented soul
In the emollient hands
That he had vied for
Like his very own.
Sometimes, the claymore
Is more of a scabbard
Than a sword.
And when the vigor is acquiesced
Cleaving into a carnage
With a remonstrative odium
He would bow his estoque
Into the sanguinary of the soil
Reeking with sepulchral remorse
Only to pray for the clenched fist
That had mended him
And forget about his own
Fluttering pains
And peccadilloes.
Sometimes, the claymore
Is more of a rosary
Than a sword.
poem by Norman Santos
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The same liberty that protects me also protects members of the Mafia.
quote by Barbara Amiel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe that the brain has evolved over millions of years to be responsive to different kinds of content in the world. Language content, musical content, spatial content, numerical content, etc.
quote by Howard Gardner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Falling Down
I watch the sun as it deceased across the desert sky
I break the lies before they die inside the public eye
the enemy of human life protects the youth in children
for without them there is no air to breathe
you'll soon forget about the differences that come between us
and until then I will be...falling down
I stop to ask a question no one wants to wonder why
I guess they're so content they know enough to get them by
it seems that time has given life another chance tomorrow
the sounds we bring are for the world to sing
if you believe what lies ahead is only in the future
who stays unseen you can't see...falling down
the enemy of human life protects the youth in children
for without them there is no air to breathe
you'll soon forget about the differences that come between us
and until then I will be...falling down
song performed by by Unwritten Law
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Damned Reunions
tired of those damned
reunions always other people doing good
making more money buying respect
integrity no longer intact
like a sword to its scabbard
bards and boards and bored
and braggarts
silky collars and shiny shoes
and dance beats
no longer adapted to my age,
i am not
attending any anymore
damned.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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God's Protection
Each of us has a course to follow,
God knows every cross I bare,
God knows the battles brewing,
He protect me with His care.
God has set the course I follow,
He knows how much that I can bare,
God will help me fight my battles,
When I go to Him in prayer.
God has given me the power,
He has set the course we share,
God will keep me in the battles,
He protects me with His care.
God protects me with His Spirit,
He delivers me from care,
God defends me in my valleys,
When I go to Him in prayer.
God rejoices in my worship,
He protects me from all harm,
God has helped me win my battles,
Wrapped securely in His arms.
poem by Silent Prayer
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Love Without Lust
Like the power of love
Lust goes on in the shadows
In the spirit of obsession
Intoxicated with greedy passions
Get me drunk
Let me say what i know
Love goes not without lust
A pair don't make two
In the smithy of the smith
Refine your feelings
Let not the sword from the scabbard
Don't give the barley with chaffs
I know love do exist
But the child is born with the placenta
Bring out the evil in good
Give your love without lust.
poem by Adewumi Joshua
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Grammar and logic free language from being at the mercy of the tone of voice. Grammar protects us against misunderstanding the sound of an uttered name; logic protects us against what we say have double meaning.
quote by Rosenstock-Huessy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song. Come Harriet! Sweet Is The Hour
Come Harriet! sweet is the hour,
Soft Zephyrs breathe gently around,
The anemone's night-boding flower,
Has sunk its pale head on the ground.
'Tis thus the world's keenness hath torn,
Some mild heart that expands to its blast,
'Tis thus that the wretched forlorn,
Sinks poor and neglected at last.--
The world with its keenness and woe,
Has no charms or attraction for me,
Its unkindness with grief has laid low,
The heart which is faithful to thee.
The high trees that wave past the moon,
As I walk in their umbrage with you,
All declare I must part with you soon,
All bid you a tender adieu!--
Then Harriet! dearest farewell,
You and I love, may ne’er meet again;
These woods and these meadows can tell
How soft and how sweet was the strain.--
APRIL, 1810.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Batman
He's Batman but his true identity is Bruce Wayne.
Some people think he's a hero while others think he's insane.
He protects Gotham City from people who are a disgrace.
He protects them from the Joker, the Penguin and even from Two-Face.
The Riddler just struck and Batman has to fight.
He's the Caped Crusader and he's the Dark Knight.
poem by Randy Johnson
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