Old Revolution
I finally broke into the prison,
I found my place in the chain.
Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,
all the brave young men
they're waiting now to see a signal
which some killer will be lighting for pay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.
I fought in the old revolution
on the side of the ghost and the King.
Of course I was very young
and I thought that we were winning;
I can't pretend I still feel very much like singing
as they carry the bodies away.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Lately you've started to stutter
as though you had nothing to say.
To all of my architects let me be traitor.
Now let me say I myself gave the order
to sleep and to search and to destroy.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Yes, you who are broken by power,
you who are absent all day,
you who are kings for the sake of your children's story,
the hand of your beggar is burdened down with money,
the hand of your lover is clay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Old Revolution
I finally broke into the prison,
I found my place in the chain.
Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,
All the brave young men
Theyre waiting now to see a signal
Which some killer will be lighting for pay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
You whom I cannot betray.
I fought in the old revolution
On the side of the ghost and the king.
Of course I was very young
And I thought that we were winning;
I cant pretend I still feel very much like singing
As they carry the bodies away.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Lately youve started to stutter
As though you had nothing to say.
To all of my architects let me be traitor.
Now let me say I myself gave the order
To sleep and to search and to destroy.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Yes, you who are broken by power,
You who are absent all day,
You who are kings for the sake of your childrens story,
The hand of your beggar is burdened down with money,
The hand of your lover is clay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four In The Furnace (Bible Poems For Children)
In a far away
land,
Lived a wicked
king.
He prayed to
idols and things.
He told his
people,
Where the idol
stood.
They must pray,
and be good.
Into a furnace,
you will go,
If you, do not bow
low.
Three christian
men, lived there,
Believed in God,
All the way from
Israel they
trod.
Bow, the king,
told them so,
We believe in God,
our answer is no.
Make a fire, hot
as can be.
Who is your God?
We shall see.
Into the furnace,
you will go,
I'll test your God,
then we will know.
In the furnace, the
king saw four.
Quickly, he shouted,
open the door.
Your God is in the
furnace, I see,
I now, resign my
decree.
poem by Heather Burns
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Faith always contains an element of risk, of venture; and we are impelled to make the venture by the affinity and attraction which we feel in ourselves.
Steel on Steel
Strength in each and every part
needs no paltry poet's art
to picture peerless tensile worth
which rhymes through time in class apart
to show glow's incandescent birth.
Hammers heated chain links bind
furnace features, anvil mind,
steel represents upon this Earth.
From forceful freedom's furnace find
fragility, flaws left behind.
18 October 2011
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Furnace
The furnace of noise is obliterating,
Heat surges like a bird’s cry,
The crying of the furnace is like venom.
Heat is audible now, it never whispers here;
Rippling heat like hell is lowering the limbs,
Soft voices are heard from afar to attack your body.
Fainter, and still fainter, the voices run,
Vast is the thudding, gentle clicks,
So that floating happens from the hot air.
To turn this down is obviously dreadful,
But silence is absent in every way.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Five Minutes To Midnight
Break or be broken
A sensitive target
A thirty day boy in
A twenty day city
Nothing is easy
You know their methods
(yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Just for a moment
That beats creation
Waiting for the flash to come
A large map of nowhere
A statue of paper
Nothing can stop them
Theyre all white and spiteful
Its not important
Use any language
Before it gets too late
Call for a doctor
For hours and hours
They built us a tower
You know how men are
We fell to the power
Stay with the money
til five to midnights past
Twenty years later
Theres someone to see you
Your prayers are answered
Hes saying something
Do you know something?
I dont remember
Hot as a furnace
Wing to wing contact
This happy solution
Wouldnt it rock you?
The choice of a weapon
The first and the last word
Waiting for the flash to come
Its not important
Use any language
Before it gets too late
Call for a doctor
Waiting for the heat to come
You know how men are
How men are, how men are
Do you know something?
I dont remember
Hot as a furnace
Wing to wing contact
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's not because things are difficult that we dare not venture. It's because we dare not venture that they are difficult.
quote by Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Our Crucible Gifts
this is our crucible
our trial by fire
in molten furnace
we are smeltered
by conflict ordeals
we like ores dug
from yield earth
contain impurities
imperfections
character flaws
we fail to rise above
which limits nobility
of mind impedes us
from quest embracing
enlightening harmony
catalysis furnace
is severe ordeal
life trials killing
off fatal our soul
impurities as iron
ore is tortured
in blast furnace
so are we tortured
broken crushed
liquefied recast
reshaped into new
being like iron ore
we are born free
of dross slag purified
into finest pure steel
thus experience
insight vision
pierces perplexing
problematic realities
with pulse passion’s
need we gift
unguarded
“noblest prayers
to bestow upon
others an eternity
of light
in beautified
likeness of purity
immortality'
fleeting moments
Quotation from the poem ‘An Eternity Of Light’ by Terence George Craddock.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fury
for mama
remember this.
she is standing by
the furnace.
the coals
glisten like rubies.
her hand is crying.
her hand is clutching
a sheaf of papers.
poems.
she gives them up.
they burn
jewels into jewels.
her eyes are animals.
each hank of her hair
is a serpent's obedient
wife.
she will never recover.
remember. there is nothing
you will not bear
for this woman's sake.
poem by Lucille Clifton
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She And He
To be a woman is to be silent and sure
To know, to be secure,
Not just about oneself but about the world,
About what's good and what's bad,
What to hold and what to void.
To be a woman is to be strong,
Not by becoming strong, not by acquiring strength:
To be a woman is to be strength itself.
To be a woman is not to speculate,
Not to know separation from the self,
Not to know death.
To be a woman is to find one's depth within oneself.
To be a woman is never to venture,
Never to stray, never to search,
But to have, as natural right,
Dominion over the earth.
To be a woman is to hold sway,
To be a woman is to be the source.
To be a man is to seek, to venture, to define-
And to find one's annihilation in woman.
[From The Serene Flame]
poem by Makarand Paranjape
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The Bridge Of Hope
Beyond the bridge of hope
lies the land of charity
and with a little faith
one day I may get there.
Where everything is equal
and shared equally the same.
Faith leads as we venture
on across the bridge of hope
and into the arms of charity.
Each day we may struggle
to keep our lives afloat
as we venture closer
to the bridge of hope.
10 February 2009
poem by David Harris
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Enormity Of Accomplishment
an enormity of time accomplishment
attained may be perspective perceived
by diving depths of thoughts pursued
few venture beneath surface appearances
delve deep to uncover hidden depths
few dare spotlight interior sea own minds
accountability dares not venture out of shallows
offshore rips may drag out swimmer drown at sea
divers strap on tanks breathe new weighted depths
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Treecreepers
Elusive birds them one don't often see
Treecreepers build their cup shaped nest of bark behind loose bark of tree
From predators concealed and hidden away
And pinkish spotted eggs the female lay.
Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear
They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near
Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side
Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.
They will never be renowned as birds of song
Though their familiar chirps one hardly could get wrong
The ornithologists and bird watchers on studying them don't spend much of their time
And they seldom have inspired the poets to rhyme.
From the day they leave the nest until the day they die
From ground up they climb the tree and then to the next tree fly
To climb again in search of invertebrates such things they like to eat
They must have great strength in their tiny feet
In wooded places they like to reside
And from predators their cup shaped nest they hide
Shy little birds when human to them venture near
To the other side of the tree trunk they disappear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Love defined in simple way
Kings and super kings used to build tomb
When future kings or successor confirmed in womb
It was in recognition to palatial love
When king and queen in chariot drove
May be the beauty only reason
Or to find successor as son
Love seems to be the only criteria
Why king should venture to another area?
Love birds found to be singing in desert
Cuckoo is no less for her place to assert
Birds, animals or creatures express and like
Roam in the sky and fly like kite,
Forms may change but substance remain
Love at the centre always domain
Love to die and love to live
Hand in hand with lovely drive
“Í may not live for a single day”
Love is only means and simple way”
Such talks are heard in fashioned world
Expressions same but with different word
Why love is loved with so much love?
Why no restriction on such move?
Is this not a defiance of rule?
Nothing of this sort as you have to be cool
Love is not be laughed at or to scold
Allow it to mushroom and firmly hold
Expression of love is simple and move bold
To be inscribed or engraved on platter gold
Neither the love is hidden or treasured
Nor it is guessed or put as measured
It has vast scope and unlimited field
Ashes and ruins and nothing to build
It has never been suppressed
Amount of loss is never assessed
Once it has gone means train is missed
Still called “miss” if she is not kissed
Big empires were dazed to ground
Today not even single remains found
It may not look so good and sound
But got to believe earth is round
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Couldnt Call It Unexpected No. 4
I saw a girl whod found her consolation
She said one day my prince of peace will come
Above her head a portrait of her father
The wilted favour that he gave her still fastened to the frame
Theyve got his bones and everything he owns
Ive got his name
Well you can laugh at this sentimental story
But in time youll have to make amends
The sudden chill where lovers doubt their immortality
As the clouds cover the sky the evening ends
Describing a picture of eyes finally closing
As you sometimes glimpse terrible faces in the fire
Well Im the lucky goon
Who composed this tune
From birds arranged on the high wire
Who on earth is tapping at the window?
Does that face still linger at the pane?
I saw you shiver though the room was like a furnace
A shadow of regret across a young mothers face
So toll the bell or rock the cradle
Please dont let me fear anything I cannot explain
I cant believe, Ill never believe in anything again
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Adventure
A free venture, a project so admired,
Will be listed tonight, like a headline.
And we shall entwine the layers of work,
This interlace promises us reward, so much profit.
Enveloped by the masses, it is good reading,
Polluted like fire and ice together;
Entries are being made to madly construct
And provoke extra blessing, extra poison.
Envenomed by the guards of living,
We construct the throat and its requirements,
Towards it we sing of our praises,
Enviable places are these praises of love.
Our venture is stunning, so fortunate for us,
And our privilege.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Any new venture goes through the following stages: enthusiasm, complication, disillusionment, search for the guilty, punishment of the innocent, and decoration of those who did nothing.
He Is A Trier
He once was a man who owned greyhounds going back a few decades ago
But for them he was all the poorer the dogs that he owned were too slow
And now he has shares in a racehorse but for that he's not a wealthier man
The race horse though well bred is quite ordinary as they say one more also ran
With greyhounds and horses he has had it this horse he does swear is his last
Venture in the greyhound or horse racing business these things he will put to his past
Any spare cash he has he'll invest in stocks and bonds with a far greater chance of success
It is due to greyhounds and horses that he is in a financial mess
He has erred twice but never again greyhounds and horses are now in his past
The horse has never run a place the greyhounds just could not run fast
Dabbling in the stock market his newest business venture trading on stocks and shares he will try
Fortune favours the brave some will tell you this time luck him may not deny
But never more greyhounds or horses for his mistakes he has had to pay
But credit him he is a trier and good times for him may not be far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Watch It Burn
Lighting the money up, watching it burn.
Oh the pleasure I get from destroying something that was earned with so much blood and sweat.
So dirty, so greedy.
Always a give me more.
Another hand out.
Lets start lighting the money up, watch it burn.
Welcome to the world that has been.
Backwards to front.
Its sideways again.
Its a constant hindrance on society.
Shove it in our mouths right through the front teeth.
Tell us whats fair, as we shiver from the chill in the air.
The words bring as much despair.
Hide it all in your lair.
Protect yourself from the snare that was set for you and just you.
Lets start lighting the money, watch it burn.
Feed the furnace.
Better then buying the lies built around it.
Oh Satan you evil creature, divulge your secrets.
How do you blind so many in such a mass proportions.
The great distortion.
The master of illusions.
Lets start lighting the money, watch it burn.
Building a huge bonfire, burying our dark desires.
Moving on, if we are not already too far gone.
Resting our heads with one eye open cause we cant quite call this home. Sometimes your better off alone.
As time passes will it get better or worse.
Am I cursed.
Did some voodoo happen while I wasn't looking.
Was it something that's been brewing and has been a long time coming.
A disease with no end in sight.
Time to make things right.
Lets just burn all the money in sight
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I Started Something I Couldnt Finish
The lanes were silent
There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles
I doused our friendly venture
With a hard-faced
Three-word gesture
I started something
I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
...and now Im not too sure
I grabbed you by the guilded beams
Uh, thats what tradition means
And I doused another venture
With a gesture
That was ... absolutely vile
I started something
I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
...and now Im not too sure
I grabbed you by the guilded beams
Uh, thats what tradition means
And now eighteen months hard labour
Seems ... fair enough
I started something
And I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
And now Im not too sure
I started something
I started something
Typical me, typical me
Typical me, typical me
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
And now Im not too sure
Ok stephen ? ...do that again ?
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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