Let not the sword-blade mock its handle for being blunt.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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He Entered Into Battle With A Blunt Edged Sword
He entered into battle with a blunt edged sword,
But he did not know quite why.
His sword selection was done without motive,
To battle and kill his fellow man.
So subconsciously he picked out this sword.
This sword not of this world, not out to cut to bleed.
But this innocent man didn't wish to realize,
What prize he would pay.
In midst of this battle, recieving the swiftest,
Blows from his enemy,
This soldier just kept getting hurt.
Five, six and seven more blows made him hit back,
This soldier proudly used his blunt sword,
Till his nemesis bearing a razor sharp one,
Came along and challenged the already fallen one,
Who gave a swift plunge into his enemy's heart.
But the enemy did not stagger or fall.
Neither did the soldier with the blunt sword.
This soldier's enemy left the battleground,
When he saw that the one with the blunt sword,
Knew all along the possibility of his death.
Still he fought, so he himself could die,
Which the other soldier was saddened by that man's stance.
He told that man, 'if we all fought battles with a blunt
sword,
Then we would all truly win,
For the battleground would know no mortality.
He further told him, 'because of you, your side
Truly wins. But so does our.
We love you,
Blunt edged sword soldier man.'
poem by Vera Sidhwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Symbols
A STORM BEATEN old watch-tower,
A blind hermit rings the hour.
All-destroying sword-blade still
Carried by the wandering fool.
Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
Beauty and fool together laid.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By the Sword.
Your father made you
a sword out of metal
at the place he worked
and brought it home
one night after work
and gave it to you
after tea and said
Be careful how you use it
I don't want you using it
dangerously
ok
you said
and went off
with the heavy sword
into the spare room
you called the toy room
the place you fought
bad knights to save
damsels in distress
or have shoot outs
with cowboys
on the wrong side
of the law
and got your gun
out of the holster
before them
and plugged them
full of caps
or the pretend saloon
where you could go
for a shot of red eye
and once you had
the sword with you
you examined it carefully
running a finger along
the blunt blade
and then
you were set upon
by the enemy knights
out of nowhere
three onto one
and you had a sword fight
and being the top guy
you soon had them licked
and lying dead
and you heard your father
call out
from the dining room
Be careful you don't
kill anyone with that
and you murmured
Too late
I've just put them
to the sword
and he laughed
and your mother said
You shouldn't make him
weapons of death
it gives a false view
of the world
but your father just said
It's just a toy
just a bit of pretence
and a kid's got to have
something to use
in his defence
against invisible foes
and then they rowed
and so you shut the door
and put away the sword
and got out your gun
you could blow away
far more of them
and it was louder
quicker and more fun.
poem by Terry Collett
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For E. McC
Gone while your tastes were keen to you,
Gone where the grey winds call to you,
By that high fencer, even Death,
Struck of the blade that no man parrieth;
Such is your fence, one saith,
One that hath known you.
Drew you your sword most gallantly
Made you your pass most valiantly
'Gainst that grey fencer, even Death.
Gone as a gust of breath
Faith! no man tarrieth,
‘Se il cor ti manca,’ but it failed thee not!
'Non ti fidar,’ it is the sword that speaks
‘In me.’
Thou trusted'st in thyself and met the blade
'Thout mask or gauntlet, and art laid
As memorable broken blades that be
Kept as bold trophies of old pageantry.
As old Toledos past their days of war
Are kept mnemonic of the strokes they bore,
So art thou with us, being good to keep
In our heart's sword-rack, though thy sword-arm sleep.
ENVOI
Struck of the blade that no man parrieth
Pierced of the point that toucheth lastly all,
'Gainst that grey fencer, even Death,
Behold the shield! He shall not take thee all.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Wolves
(Wolf Howls)
I'm not a hunter but i am told,
that, uh, in places like in the arctic,
where indiginous people sometimes might, might, hunt a wolf,
they'll take a double edged blade,
and they'll put blood on the blade,
and they'll melt the ice and stick the handle in the ice,
so that only the blade is protruding,
and that a wolf will smell the blood and wants to eat,
and it will come and lick the blade trying to eat,
and what happens is when the wolf licks the blade,
of course, he cuts his tongue, and he bleeds,
and he thinks he's really having a good thing,
and he drinks and he licks and he licks,
and of course he is drinking his own blood and he kills himself,
thats what the Imperialists did with us with crack cocaine,
you have these young brothers out there who think they are getting something
they gonna make a living with,
they is getting something they can buy a car,
like the white people have cars, why can't i have a car?
they getting something they can get a piece of gold,
white people have gold, why can't i have gold?
they getting something to get a house,
white people have a house, why can't i have a house?
and they actually think that theres something thats bringing resources to them,
but they're killing themsleves just like the wolf was licking the blade,
and they're slowly dying without knowing it.
thats whats happening to the community, you with me on that?
thats exactly, precisely what happens to the community,
and instead of blaming the hunter who put the damn handle and blade in the ice
for the wolf,
that what happens is the wolf gets the blame, gets the blame for trying to live,
thats what happens in our community,
you don't blame the person, the victim,
you blame the oppressor, Imperialism, white power is the enemy,
was the enemy when it first came to Africa,
and snatched up the first African brothers here against our will,
isss the enemy today,
and thats the thing that we have to understand.
(Clapping)
song performed by by Dead Prez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The utilization
Having a sword at hand
Is of no use when the hand
Itself has gone weak to handle.
Having money in purse
Is of no use when the brain
Has gone weak to handle
When you go old or invalid..
25.11.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can U Handle It?
[Usher speaking]
What's up baby
I'm so glad I got you here
I'm so in love with you
And I don't ever wanna lose you
I wanna take this to the next level
I hope you ready
Now that you're here
I got somethin' to say baby
I think that you should know
You're givin' the most, suga
So don't worry 'bout the situation
I'd never let you go
[Chorus]
Can you handle it
If I go there baby with you
I can handle it
I can go there baby with you
Oh I hear you talkin' babe
Can you handle it
Can I go there baby with you
We gon' set it off
We gon' tear it up
Baby can you handle
Wooooo baby
You say all the time
You only want the best of my love
Now I can see that
There's only one way to tear it up
Yeah
I'm willing to tell you
Everything I let stand between us
But what if I tell you too much
What about you babe
Will you tell me
All the freaky things you are
Before I do
Need you to know
If we make it through
Our love will grow
Oooh ho ho
Imagine how amazing things would be
[Chorus]
Can you handle it
Can I go there baby with you
We gon' set it of
We gon' tear it up
Baby can u handle
I can handle it
I can go there baby with you
Oh I hear you talkin' babe
We gon' set it out
We gon' work it out
Baby can you handle
Oooh hey yeah baby
I fear sometimes in my mind
That you won't wanna stay with my love
Oh baby
If I can be sure
Inside out that you know exactly
The man that comes to see you
I'll go deep as I can
Giving you the rest of my love
But what if I tell you too much
Uhhhhh
So much to explore
So much we have yet to discover
I ask myself
Should I go there
Should I do it
Yeeeaaahhh oooooh
Can I give it to you fully
Can you handle it
[Chorus]
Can you handle it
If I go there baby with you
We gon' lay it out
We gon' tear it up
Baby can u handle
I can handle it
I can go there baby with you
We gon' set it out
We gon' make it out
Baby can you handle
Can you handle it
Can I go there baby with you
We gon' set it off
We gon' tear it up
Baby can you handle
We gon' set it out
We gon' work it out
Baby can you handle
Can you handle it
Can I go there baby with you
We gon' set it off
We gon' tear it up
Baby can you handle
song performed by by Usher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going on a Demon Hunt
We're going on a demon hunt
Chasing down the hellish fiends
Laughing as we cut them down
With the Sword of our mouth
A double edged blade
Demons here
Demons there
Demons everywhere
They can run
But they can't hide
Running from my Righteous Blade
The Word of God
Let the monsters run
Let them flee
Because it's demon hunting day
poem by Patrick Tincher
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Mishaps are like knives, that either serve us or cut us, as we grasp them by the blade or the handle.
quote by James Russell Lowell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When fate throws a dagger at you, there are only two ways to catch it: by the blade or by the handle.
If fate throws a knife at you, there are two ways of catching it: by the blade or by the handle.
Dominican Republic proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loves sword sharp tongue
How can you carve up my soul?
With such blunt words
haiku by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bladesmith Alchemy
He toils over fire fueled by coke
Forging a fine Damascus blade
Coaxes, cajoles, at last invokes
A sacred fire totem…unafraid
The Bladesmith knows;
Salamanders can pass thru fire
Unburnt/unharmed by such heat
A tempered blade its one desire
Lest, this fine sword be incomplete
Thru blade salamander does pass
Pursued by fiery flames from hell
Thru blinding smoke of sulfur gas
Mission done, he bids “farewell”
Revealed here the secret of 'Damascus Steel'
Perfected by one tiny amphibian's ordeal
(Inspired by Howlin Dervish)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Song
Tho' veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath,
Love is a sword that cuts its sheath,
And thro' the clefts, itself has made,
We spy the flashes of the Blade !
But thro' the clefts, itself has made,
We likewise see Love's flashing blade,
By rust consumed or snapt in twain :
And only Hilt and Stump remain.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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The Sword
There's a sword affixed in a glass case,
There on a western wall.
There's a photo there of a soldier
Who answered his country's call.
There's of the sword, a story to tell;
And of men - how the dice may fall.
In the east ‘neath the rising sun,
With his family gazing on,
In a uniform smartly fitting,
Stood an officer of Nippon.
At his side swung his sword - katana,
And to war he would soon be gone.
From his people were gifts bestowed:
A small book of prayers to take,
And a camera to record
The conquests their son would make;
So his family's photo he took;
In the book he would keep the keepsake.
The sword of his samurai forebears,
Fitted with ancestral blade,
Temper and balance so perfect,
Forged true - by true craftsman made;
There on its handle so ornate,
Three cherry blossoms were laid.
Sharkskin it inlaid the handle,
Tassel showed officer class,
Perfect the fine crafted pommel,
Shone bright its high polished brass;
Proud was he of this fine weapon;
On to his sons it would pass.
Triumphant in battle it served him
Until the fighting it turned
To defeat for the forces of Nippon;
Here was their might to be spurned:
By another Imperial Army
At Balikpapan, as Borneo burned.
There as the officer bravely
Brandished his sword in the fight,
Gunfire and shell fire around him,
Smoke of war - oil and cordite;
Surged on the valiant diggers,
Hopeless the Japanese plight.
Never surrender - his motto,
There with his comrades he died,
Amongst the corpses - the carnage,
A digger sergeant he spied
A sword in the officer's dead hand,
Its scabbard lay there at his side.
Weary of death was the digger,
Still for some reason he took,
There from the dead man's shirt pocket,
A stained and a tattered small book -
It fell open, and there on the first page
Was the picture the officer took.
The digger he took up the sword,
And he slipped the book into his pack;
His young eyes showed no trace of feeling,
He strode off and didn't look back;
He'd hardened himself to war's horror,
But humanity he didn't lack.
So now when a visitor questions
The history of that old sword,
Says the old man - it's there to remind him
When nations with others are warred,
How soldiers who fight for their country,
May take bloody death as reward.
There's a sword affixed in a glass case,
There on a Western wall.
There's a photo there of a soldier
Who answered his country's call,
And a bloodied book, beneath the sword
That tells of a soldier's fall.
In memory of:
QX13210 Sgt A.N. O'Brien,2nd 31st Bne.7th Div AIF
and of an unknown Japanese officer.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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What's On My Mind
I can't have this conversation
Without lots of reservations on the line
If there's a way to slip around it
Then I'm bound to get around it one more time
Honey you are so persuasive
But it makes me more evasive when you pry
You can label me elusive
But the facts are inconclusive at this time
'Cause you can't handle what's on my mind
I've got roses growing over what you'd find
But keep on asking if you're inclined
'Cause you can't handle what's on my mind
I don't mean to drive you crazy
Comin' off all vague and hazy just because
I don't have an answer for you
I just wouldn't want to bore you if it does
'Cause you can't handle what's on my mind
I've got roses growing over what you'd find
But keep on asking if you're inclined
'Cause you can't handle what's on my mind
But keep on asking if you're inclined
'Cause you can't handle what's on my mind
Because you can't handle what's on my mind
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sword and the shield
Courage is not a sword to fight with.
Courage is ability to handle the sword.
Toughness is not a shield to defend with.
Toughness is ability to hold the shield.
10.09.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Six Blade Knife
Your six blade knife can do anything for you
Anything you want it to
One blade for breaking my heart
One blade for tearing me apart
Your six blade knife-do anything for you
You can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
When you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
Took a stone from my soul when I was lame
Just so you could make me tame
You take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
Id like to be free of it now - I dont want it no more
Id like to be free of it now - you know I dont want it no more
Everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
A needle a wife or something that you just cant see
You know it keeps you strong
Yes and itll do me wrong
Your six blade knife - do anything for you
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better stop short than fill to the brim. Oversharpen the blade, and the edge will soon blunt. Amass a store of gold and jade, and no one can protect it. Claim wealth and titles, and disaster will follow. Retire when the work is done. This is the way of heaven.
Blade There are worse things out tonight than vampires. Dr. Karen Jenson Like what Blade Like me.