Decapitate
Your head
You will lose it
Severed
When executed
You always thought
Youd never get caught
Decapitate
Sealing your fate
Rebels
Futile efforts
Are quelled
With effective measures
The sentence is read
Word that you dread
Decapitate
Walk through hells gate
Youve lost your head sir
Well you will tomorrow - sleep well
This courts
Best deterrent
To set
New precendents
The verdict of course
Couldnt be worse
Decapitate
Example be made
Decapitate
Will seal your fate
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Are All Anglers Stranglers?
Are all anglers stranglers?
No.. some smash the sentient
beings' heads or
decapitate them.
Some throw them back, the
ego thrill of having caught them
and ripped their throat in
removing the hook is enough.
Are all anglers tanglers?
Are they danglers, caught within
their own lines?
=====================
Fishing is with slaughterhouses, killing trees as
lumbermen... one of the 5 most dangerous occupations.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Court
Never enter my court spreading disease,
Inside this duty I complain of those who decease
From the clause written by the judge,
To decapitate the man with the nudge.
I concern him now, in ever more reason,
More than ever the reasons flow thorough the season.
This period of course matters for those in my court,
Blaming me is desired as a last resort.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Postmodern picture
Heart, gold, stone,
dance salome,
dance,
decapitate my head, just dance,
with youre divine hips
make me smile,
i can't translate my vision of the world,
youre green eyes,
the clearest pearls of a murderer,
bring me closer to my death,
dance,
dance,
dance and be damn
by all gods,
just dance and
make my world
the best world ever
poem by Robert Ravenšćak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Inconsistency
the only honesty i can offer you
inside my empty room
is the bluntness of silence
ask me why i have no answer
to all your questions
i don't think that you are a stranger
to a love without name or
categories
you have been fucked up
do not deny that
you have been bleeding
and you have not healed yet
from that pain that
you voluntarily infected upon
your heart,
silly.
this time i will lie again
i love you, and i have to repeat it
to reinforce this lie
like a weak concrete post
concealed by fresh cement
if you ask me to kneel
i will
there is not much effort
in doing something that
i do not mean
you will see me lowering my head
and you may decapitate
what crown of integrity i have
bowing like a slave losing his grip
on the power of words
and protestation
i worship you
i undress myself like a cursed god of air
i become a dim light to your touch
i become a mist
a fog, a cloud, a mirage, a rainbow
a stream of thoughts
that you can never hold
silly.
kiss me if you
can.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rebirth
I was alone,
rusting in heaven...
blinded by illusions of love.
bound with chains of hope.
I was asleep,
dreaming aloud...
encouraging myself to breathe.
reaching for the control within.
I was recollecting,
running in circles...
trying to prove myself to the world.
working to gain the ultimate trust.
I was defining,
turning towards undefined light...
confused by how confused I was.
bamboozled by the complicated signs.
Now I'm inside the shell,
emptying my feelings...
starting to decapitate my sight.
imagining the realms of life.
poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
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Elixer Vitæ
Of life's elixir I had writ, when sleep
(Pray Heaven it spared him who the writing read!)
Settled upon my senses with so deep
A stupefaction that men thought me dead.
The centuries stole by with noiseless tread,
Like spectres in the twilight of my dream;
I saw mankind in dim procession sweep
Through life, oblivion at each extreme.
Meanwhile my beard, like Barbarossa's growing,
Loaded my lap and o'er my knees was flowing.
The generations came with dance and song,
And each observed me curiously there.
Some asked: 'Who was he?' Others in the throng
Replied: 'A wicked monk who slept at prayer.'
Some said I was a saint, and some a bear-
These all were women. So the young and gay,
Visibly wrinkling as they fared along,
Doddered at last on failing limbs away;
Though some, their footing in my beard entangled,
Fell into its abysses and were strangled.
At last a generation came that walked
More slowly forward to the common tomb,
Then altogether stopped. The women talked
Excitedly; the men, with eyes agloom
Looked darkly on them with a look of doom;
And one cried out: 'We are immortal now-
How need we these?' And a dread figure stalked,
Silent, with gleaming axe and shrouded brow,
And all men cried: 'Decapitate the women,
Or soon there'll be no room to stand or swim in!'
So (in my dream) each lovely head was chopped
From its fair shoulders, and but men alone
Were left in all the world. Birth being stopped,
Enough of room remained in every zone,
And Peace ascended Woman's vacant throne.
Thus, life's elixir being found (the quacks
Their bread-and-butter in it gladly sopped)
'Twas made worth having by the headsman's axe.
Seeing which, I gave myself a hearty shaking,
And crumbled all to powder in the waking.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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No Sea
There is no sea here,
I see no sea;
This is the body of the desert,
The rich made faint blue,
From stolen oceans,
And it is where I live now;
In the dizzy trail of the sleeping conquistadors,
In your memory,
And the super-market sample of love
You gave me to try some many years ago:
Here the cactus I pricked my thumb on,
And this one has stolen my jersey;
These are the naked declivities,
The changing rooms absent of shadowy abdomens,
The red stones of stolen Indian reservations,
The retirement homes for snow birds;
The corrugated roofs where no rain falls,
While your lips peck his opium neck,
His steroid elbows,
His cocaine phallus: I walk out into the naked abscesses
Of some disease;
The doctors have given it your Christian name,
And the perfume which smells like your showered flesh.
Surely now, I will live into obscurity,
My dogs chasing the jack-rabbits, and I your c$nt;
The sun is a bronzed gladiator, upon which I decapitate;
Tomorrow the stock cars will go around and around,
The smell of expensive gasoline, worshiping you;
The legs you keep unhinged for the carnival of strong men,
Baptized in the single fluidity we have here;
Pagan, I worship you,
Without a breeze, the dead boats, and it feels like crucifixion,
My organs pricked by the briars of the blistered graveyard
Of you, unblinking.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Circles Round The Moon
Tonight I drew a circle round the moon
This night I drew a circle round the moon
Through a glazed up frosty window
I drew a circle round the moon
Tonight I stood on the end of a pier
And the moon flooded the bay
And as it caught the rolling tide
I swear the waves stopped dead
Tonight I ran through dark streets
And cut the heads off all the flowers
And replaced them with something beautiful
That could never ever die
Tonight I lay by my open window
And listened to the rain
Gently lapping the ground outside
And smiling, I lay still
Tonight on the end of that pier
I longed for someone to hold
To share this beautiful sight with
And see the circles round the moon
Tonight the moon told me something
The moon it told me to live
It told me to live, not merely exist
So I could decapitate the flowers
But I didn’t take any notice
And killed myself instead
And if you look up at the sky tonight
There’ll be a circle round the moon
poem by Perfect Fool
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Look What Youve Done
I can borrow, if youve got the time
I never needed anybodys help to make up my mind
You wont be here long
Enough to stand out
Youre on fi fi fire till everybody finds out
Look what youve done, done to my head
Look what youve done, look what youve done
Done to my head, youve got me thinking
Maybe I will and maybe I wont
Maybe I cant but God only knows
I wont be the puppet strings you hold on
Come tomorrow, its a sign of the times
Its coming down now
Shelter wont save you my friend
So sit dow till you learn
And sit down till you grow
You mi mi mi might turn if youd only let yourself go
Look what youve done, done to my head
Look what youve done, look what youve done
Done to my head,
Maybe I will and maybe I wont
Maybe I cant but God only knows
I wont be the puppet strings you hold on
I see you depend over and over on logic
I cant understand
Who kept you floating, my friend?
Kept your head above water
Rough seas hit you harder
I should have just let you drown
Maybe I will and maybe I wont
Maybe I cant, but God only knows
I wont be the puppet strings you hold on
song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cut Up Angels
If we cut out the bad
Well then wed have nothing left
Like I cut up your mouth
The night I stuffed it all in
And you lied to the Angel
Said I stabbed you to death
If we go at the same time
They'll clean up the mess
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Watched you bite into the bottle
Watched me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed as you just hung there
I have thought of rose petals mostly perfect and pure
Then I thought of your petals
And the abuse theyve been through
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Whoa whoa
I told the angels
Cant stay in heaven
I asked the devil
If we cut out the bad well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your angels
Yeah you stabbed me to death
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
song performed by by Used
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tomorrow will Hatch
When tomorrow hatch
The future is born
Tomorrow is rind in the shell of uncertainty
What tomorrow unknown but the syllable of fate
Tomorrow some will grace
And some will fall
If today stale
Tomorrow might be fair
If today smiles
Tomorrow might be gloom
Tomorrow might not hatch
For some fate are dashed
Tomorrow is like today, but tomorrow
Tomorrow will sleep
Tomorrow is but hope.
poem by Abdullah Musa
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Goodbye Little Columbus
The plane is waiting, you must to go
goodbye Im gonna miss you
And all the things you say at a leaving
Ah just turn your head and walk away
Goodbye little columbus
Goodbye, Ill see you one day
Goodbye little columbus
Travelling, just travelling
That certain moment, the final call
And that desperate search for cest la vie
Oh what youd give to hear of a slight delay
Ah just turn your head and walk away
Walk away, just walk away
Goodbye little columbus
Goodbye, Ill see you one day
Goodbye little columbus
Travelling, just travelling
Youve made up your mind
And youve got to go
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Postcard
Youve got a lot of nerve coming around here acting like
youre someone else
Cos no two-bit players gonna have it over me
So when youre out playing games and you get caught dont
expect my help
Cos when the rules get dirty they can be a bit hard to
read
Youve got love for everything that I dont want
But you mean a lot more to me
Youd better send me a postcard
And tell me what its like in the real world
Learning your lessons
You had a lot of fun but youll be back soon
Now you never thought the day would come you were left
all by yourself
But turn a couple more pages and the endings there to see
So when the roofs caving in and you get caught dont
expect my help
Because all the money in the world wont buy you what you need
You told me all about the things that you couldnt believe
And tied them up hoping that they wouldnt breathe
Theres food on the table but its going cold
You lost your appetite for life as you were getting old
The questions that you had you kept them to yourself
And went about your life to increase your wealth
The years of prediction all come down to this
You cant help wondering what it is that you missed
song performed by by Zed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After All Is Said And Done
I thought that you were working late
But that was when I made my first mistake
As you walk into the hall and sort all the clothes upon the floor
It was too late
She said she didn't understand
And then she cried she took the ring from off her hand
Then I knew it was over as she turned to me and said
Our love is dead
After all is said and done
Knowing I'll be only one
Till I head it out going out of the way
All alone under the sun
Baby come tomorrow
Are we moving on?
I know what I did was wrong
But you don't know what you've got until it's gone
If there were something I could say to you to make you change your mind
You know I'll try
After all is said and done
Knowing I'll be only one
Till I head it out going out of the way
All alone under the sun
Baby come tomorrow
I'm not to live without you
Baby come tomorrow
Cause all I got is here with now
But all I wanna live without
After all is said and done
Knowing I'll be only one
Till I head it out going out of the way
All alone under the sun
Baby come tomorrow
Baby come tomorrow
Baby come tomorrow
Are we moving on?
song performed by by BBMak from Into Your Head
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Semantics Of Animal Objectification
to bag: verb for to kill a deer or other animal
to harvest: verb for to kill an elk or other animal
cull: a 3rd verb for murdering animals
thin the herd: phrase for murdering animals
pork: objectivist term for subdivided murdered pigs
beef.: objectivist term for subdivided murdered cows
mutton: objectivist term for subdivided murdered sheep
veal: objectivist term for a baby cow's murdered flesh
pate: objectivist term for the smashed livers of tortured geese
The word bovine is struck from tuberculosis to obscure
the disease causing nature of cows' milk
Kine Pox or Cow Pox: changed to smallpox to obscure
the eating of cowflesh as an origin of the disease
Wool Sorters' Disease.. changed to anthrax
study: verb for kidnapping, torturing and murdering lab animals
pith: to shove a needle into the brain of a living frog
field dress: to remove the skin from a mammal, pull out his
intestines etc.
stock market: term for many corporations invested in animal
and people slaughter
clear: to murder many trees
pluck: to kill a flower
mow: to decapitate dandelions, shred sapling trees
poem by Anna Hridaya
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Fates Game
fate plays with me,
Day in and day out,
I never get what I want no matter how much I plee,
People say things will work but in my head it’s an utter doubt,
I’m heart broke and beat down,
My tears take form but no life,
It’s like my life is cursed and bound,
I feel like fate and I are in an uncompromising strife,
My emotions are tossed from left to right,
There is no outlet for my feelings,
Life to me is one big fright,
How I feel isn’t fate’s dealings,
I’m the one who should lead my life!
I’m the one who should determine what to do!
Freedom from fate’s grip is what I thrive,
I thought I knew,
But I thought wrong that I determined my own living,
I’m not perfect but then again no one is true,
But fate can be so unforgiving,
I wish I could just get up and flee,
But I’m in a game,
A game that fate plays with me.
poem by Michael Ferreira
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Put Yourself In My Shoes
Your mind is made up you wont even try
You didnt even cry this time
You say that we could never see eye to eye
And one of us just must be blind
We have our differences
Were still the same
See what we want to see
But you take a second look
And maybe things wouldnt seem the same
If you could see what you mean to me
Put yourself in my shoes
Walk a mile for me
Ill put myself in your shoes
Maybe then wed see
That if you put yourself in my shoes
Youd have some sympathy
And if I could only put myself in your shoes
Id walk right back to me
Youre gonna keep walkin and youre gonna pass me by
You say you dont even care
But I could always recognize a real good-bye
And I know your hearts not there
Weve had our differences
Were still the same
Hear what we want to hear
Now Im head over heels in the lost and found
Its a cryin shame
I thought we made the perfect pair
Put yourself in my shoes
Walk a while walk that mile for me
Ill put myself in your shoes
Maybe then wed see
That if you put yourself in my shoes
Youd have some sympathy
And if I could only put myself in your shoes
Id walk right back to me
Id walk right back to me
Id walk right back to me
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Woeful New Ballad Of The Protestant Conspiracy To Take The Pope’s Life
Come all ye Christian people, unto my tale give ear,
'Tis about a base consperracy, as quickly shall appear;
'Twill make your hair to bristle up, and your eyes to start and glow,
When of this dread consperracy you honest folks shall know.
The news of this consperracy and villianous attempt,
I read it in a newspaper, from Italy it was sent:
It was sent from lovely Italy, where the olives they do grow,
And our holy father lives, yes, yes, while his name it is No NO.
And 'tis there our English noblemen goes that is Puseyites no
longer,
Because they finds the ancient faith both better is and stronger,
And 'tis there I knelt beside my lord when he kiss'd the POPE his
toe,
And hung his neck with chains at St. Peter's Vinculo.
And 'tis there the splendid churches is, and the fountains playing
grand,
And the palace of PRINCE TORLONIA, likewise the Vatican;
And there's the stairs where the bagpipe-men and the piffararys
blow.
And it's there I drove my lady and lord in the Park of Pincio.
And 'tis there our splendid churches is in all their pride and
glory,
Saint Peter's famous Basilisk and Saint Mary's Maggiory;
And them benighted Prodestants, on Sunday they must go
Outside the town to the preaching-shop by the gate of Popolo.
Now in this town of famous Room, as I dessay you have heard,
There is scarcely any gentleman as hasn't got a beard.
And ever since the world began it was ordained so,
That there should always barbers he wheresumever beards do grow.
And as it always has been so since the world it did begin,
The POPE, our Holy Potentate, has a beard upon his chin;
And every morning regular when cocks begin to crow,
There comes a certing party to wait on POPE PIO.
There comes a certing gintlemen with razier, soap, and lather,
A shaving most respectfully the POPE, our Holy Father.
And now the dread consperracy I'll quickly to you show,
Which them sanguinary Prodestants did form against NONO.
Them sanguinary Prodestants, which I abore and hate,
Assembled in the preaching-shop by the Flaminian gate;
And they took counsel with their selves to deal a deadly blow
Against our gentle Father, the Holy POPE PIO.
Exhibiting a wickedness which I never heard or read of;
What do you think them Prodestants wished? to cut the good Pope's
head off!
And to the kind POPE'S Air-dresser the Prodestant Clark did go,
And proposed him to decapitate the innocent PIO.
'What hever can be easier,' said this Clerk—this Man of Sin,
'When you are called to hoperate on His Holiness's chin,
Than just to give the razier a little slip—just so?—
And there's an end, dear barber, of innocent PIO!'
The wicked conversation it chanced was overerd
By an Italian lady; she heard it every word:
Which by birth she was a Marchioness, in service forced to go
With the parson of the preaching-shop at the gate of Popolo.
When the lady heard the news, as duty did obleege,
As fast as her legs could carry her she ran to the Poleege.
'O Polegia,' says she (for they pronounts it so),
'They're going for to massyker our Holy POPE PIO.
'The ebomminable Englishmen, the Parsing and his Clark,
His Holiness's Air-dresser devised it in the dark!
And I would recommend you in prison for to throw
These villians would esassinate the Holy POPE PIO?
'And for saving of His Holiness and his trebble crownd
I humbly hope your Worships will give me a few pound;
Because I was a Marchioness many years ago,
Before I came to service at the gate of Popolo.'
That sackreligious Air-dresser, the Parson and his man
Wouldn't, though ask'd continyally, own their wicked plan—
And so the kind Authoraties let those villians go
That was plotting of the murder of the good PIO NONO.
Now isn't this safishnt proof, ye gentlemen at home,
How wicked is them Prodestants, and how good our Pope at Rome?
So let us drink confusion to LORD JOHN and LORD MINTO,
And a health unto His Eminence, and good PIO NONO.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rejection, Fate
I could take your rejection,
I could take your hate.
For it has made me stronger,
forced me to believe in fate.
What I could never, ever, take;
even worse than your hate,
is to do unto someone else
what you have done unto my fate.
For what's worse then your rejection?
What's worse than you hate?
It's to watch someone suffer
because you believe in fate.
poem by Erin Yeleenk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Futile
assimilate the night
they cut into your brain
they crack apart the skull
and stick the wires in
the computer releationship
a flame into the flesh
a cut into the brain
a cut runs in your face
you can't believe your head
you can't believe your eyes
nobody can escape
the futile assesment
the futile assesment
oh, futile
we're futile
futile
you're futile
futile religion
futile expression
your futile aggression
a futile obsession
oh, futile assasination
you'll faulter
your generation
your immoral futile assimilation
expressionation
annihilation
song performed by by Velvet Acid Christ
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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