Democracy: The worship of jackals by jackasses.
quote by H.L. Mencken
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hexagram
Paint the streets in white!
Death is the standard
Breach for a complex prize!
I think it's sweet of you
And your parents are proud...
But I would expect it from anyone
Now to protect life's indigenous sound!
Worship! Play, Play x 3
Worship! Play! Worship! Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play x 3
Worship! Play! Worship! Worship!
How the streets they swell!
While the animals make their way through the crowds!
If you keep listening you can hear it for miles...
God, I trust everyone quicker with every faint smile!
Worship! Play, Play x 4
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play x 4
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship! Worship!
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and I know you're proud
And the car bomb hits quick click, faint smile!
It's the same sound... it's the same, same... sound....
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and you know I'm proud
And the car bomb tick ticks with the same sound!
Its the same sound! With the same sound...
Hexagram...
song performed by Deftones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Church Of Women
A lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Church of women is made out of milk
Which their love turns to butter -er -er
Church of women will have you give praise
With a laugh, bark and stutter -er -er
Like us men like us men they are nothing like us men
Men have gargoyles round their hearts
Im on my knees but dancing
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Church of women is making donations of loving and giving -ing -ing
Church of women performing that miracle raising the living -ing -ing
Like us men like us men will they ever like us men?
Men have thorns around their minds
Im on my mountain preaching
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Give em back their house: the walls, the doors, the floors and roof
And stop tryin to diet on the wafers and wine and submit were in control
Now lets put things right
Lets multiply the loves and kisses
til we have enough to love and eat forever
Want to worship at the church of women
I want to worship at the church of women now
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Ill breathe em in until my head goes spinning round
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Want to worship at the church of women
(repeat x3 and fade)
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Worship Him
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Christ, our Lord
(repeat)
All the earth should praise Him
Let us bow down before Him
Let us enter into,His gates with thanksgiving
Come before His courts with praise
Lets us honor and adore Him
Lets us exalt Him for His goodness
For His love and kindness
And for His tender mercy
I will,I will,I will,I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship Christ
I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship you
I adore your name
Lord you're worthy
I worship Christ, the Lord
song performed by Yolanda Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Worship Him
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Christ, our Lord
(repeat)
All the earth should praise Him
Let us bow down before Him
Let us enter into,His gates with thanksgiving
Come before His courts with praise
Lets us honor and adore Him
Lets us exalt Him for His goodness
For His love and kindness
And for His tender mercy
I will,I will,I will,I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship Christ
I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship you
I adore your name
Lord you're worthy
I worship Christ, the Lord
song performed by Yolanda Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Some People Worship
Some people worship the fiery sun
And some the crescent moon
Some people worship the stars above
But God I worship you
Some people worship dragons
And some hand carved statues
Some people worship the devil
But God I worship you
You created the heavens above
The earth with color of every hue
Then in your image you made man
God I worship you
Some people worship their president
And some their nation too
Some people worship themselves
But God I worship You!
© by Patricia Bankhead
poem by Patricia Bankhead
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Jonah-Woman
Who are these white-capped jesters...and jackals
Who have placed me in the belly of a
White death-stinking fish?
Not this time, not Jonah-time fish.
Not walking out safe from Jonah's fish. No.
Not this time.
The jesters and tittering hyenas, with their night-lumin
Eyes, who tiptoe soft through the loud-hinged door...
And shut it quietly-quick behind them.
They are breathing to find me.
They safari hunt for me...beating the bush-room.
Mine. I am hiding in the pillow, in the chest of drawers,
In the air.
They can't find me with their needles and needle-quick
Pills.
The rancid, disinfected fish is down the hall, around the
Corner...on the ceilings.
I can sense death rattles...quick as goodbye from
Yesterday. The fish swallows the soft, noisy passage.
The fish is Hill House. The fish is the jackals' den.
The fish, with no fins, rummages the halls, airborne,
Hovering on moon-shadowed winds.
A scream, a gurgle, the fish forgets me for the moment.
The jesters still seek, seethe. They have other work now.
Something is wrong.
Something is amiss in Heaven.
They have placed me in a room with no art.
There is someone at the door...snuffling dog noises.
Who are you that you do not answer me?
The dog has gone. I think it has gone...but I do not think
It was a dog.
They have taken everything. Even the name of my Father...
Given it to the jackals. This, my scent.
They seethe out of their fish-den, carefully stepping over
It's teeth. Man-shark teeth. Death teeth.
They walk with needles balanced on a tray...rainbow pills
In teensy, little cups...watch me to make sure I've swallowed
The rainbow.
Something is my God wrong.
Something should not be happening.
I cannot walk out of this vile fish...like Jonah. I cannot go
[...] Read more
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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Democracy v Liberty
The fathers of democracy.
The ancient Greek philosophers
were dependent on slavery.
Which leaves me in a quandary.
How can it be democracy
to have such inequality?
I think democracy should be
a universal human right.
Though it is not quite obviously.
An ideal to aspire to.
Which one day might be possible.
The time has come now to review.
What we mean by democracy.
If everybody has their say.
It might well lead to anarchy.
When we elect a government.
The will of the majority
is what they’re meant to represent..
But it seems they rarely do.
This cannot be democracy.
the many are ruled by the few.
Who gain control quite legally
because their wealth allows them to
encouraged by our apathy.
The systems open to abuse
The people have the power to
insist on change; which we don’t use.
We vote or not just as we choose.
A facet of democracy.
I would be hesitant to lose.
It seems to me democracy
is something which we can’t achieve
and still retain our liberty.
There is no way that I can see
which will be fair to everyone.
I must admit despondently.
A partial democracy
is what we have and will retain
[...] Read more
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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You Are Worthy Of My Praise
I will worship with all of my heart
And I will praise you with all of my strength
And I will seek you all of my days
And I will follow, follow all of your ways.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise
I will bow down, and hail you as King
And I will serve you, I'll give you everything
And I will lift up my eyes to your throne
And I will trust you, I will trust you alone.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise.
--- Instrumental ---
I will bow down and hail you as King
And I will serve you, I'll give you everything
And I will lift up my eyes to your throne
And I will trust you, I will trust you alone.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise...
--- Instrumental to fade ---
song performed by Randy Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Worship
Worshippers by God are sought, from the souls He has bought,
Every believer bought by Christ, to worship throughout their life;
The worship that God does seek, is more than just once a week,
It's far beyond a weekly throng, of believers lifting up their song.
Worship is not in part, but whole, all one's mind, body, and soul,
We're to worship in spirit and Truth, with active worship as proof,
Worshipfully seeking God's face, this, at any time and any place,
Truly lifting up our heart to Him, with worshipful intent not a whim.
We worship any time or hour, compelled by love and Holy power.
As we truly lift up our heart to God, anywhere on this earthly sod,
Lifting up Worship to The Lord, worthy to be praised and adored,
For all that The Lord God has done, in giving to us His Only Son.
Our worship is for every nation, a worshipful praise for Salvation,
God's Salvation, offered to us, through The Savior, Christ Jesus,
Worshipfully telling Salvation's story, all to the Lord God's Glory,
Thinking on Him, we truly rejoice, lifting up praise, with one voice.
Compared to God we're quite small, so we worship Christ in awe,
Bowing our hearts in humbleness, as we extol His Righteousness,
For he had left His Eternal Throne, to redeem us as His very Own,
So, we go on in worshipful praise, throughout all our earthly days.
poem by Bob Gotti
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Democracy is also a form of worship. It is the worship of Jackals by Jackasses.
quote by H.L. Mencken
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Democratic Way
Where the arrow falls
A life is taken
Its flight was always destined to find
The rebel's heart
The believers who shake this world
Extinguished by the powers of state
For the rule of law defines society
This history that made all men equal
That teaches our children democracy
This democracy that America holds dear
And England expects
Has been stolen, hocked to the highest bidder
Reformed homogenised and re distributed
By the invisible hand of a powerful few
Your choices defined by control
Hidden in the refuse tip of mankind
Austerity and debt
Dumped by Druid bankers mesmerizing us
With chemical whispers that poison our dreams
Democracy has found a new owner
And we are its victim
A nation of employees procreating our lives in debt
Government no longer the servant
People in a cage, no escape
For we are the slaves
Destined to die in unmarked graves
Forgotten by the winds of time
This illusion that this, is the bed we choose,
But even this is rented
For all property returns to the soil
Waiting for the next solicitors pen
The money that you scrape
Its value has been raped
Slowly evaporating in the
Inflation of wet banker's dreams
For your democracy was always a dream
And this nightmare is here to stay
Your heroes have all been seconded
To protect the carcass that these jackals share
And the rebels that are left
Will never fire a shot in anger again,
For The slave has nothing to fight for
[...] Read more
poem by Steven Cooke
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In democracy
In democracy
Writ of the peole runs.
In democracy
Repesentatives should not
Called leaders.
In democracy
Representatives must not
Act as er whim.
In democracy
Representative should not
Show dictatorial style.
In democracy
Representative should not have
Arrogance of power.
In democracy
Treachery and
Ruthless decisions
Not good.
In democracy
The representatives
Should be sensitives
Towards sensitive issues.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Natures Democracy
Democracy is at America's heart
You lead while others follow
And your citizens bear the right to be free
With freedom comes responsibility
And democracy applies
To all who inhabit this earth?
Within this premise Kyoto speaks
That sound which disturbs
The majority of a wider democracy
You deny their global solution
In favour of the American way
But there are whispers in the wind
For nature too believes in democracy
And nature will make the agreement for you
For she is omnipotent to unleash her democracy
You can deny your future, but your ghosts will deny you
This way of life feeds a changing climate
And nature gathers her strength
Slowly rising to give you her answer
The Hurricane and tornado
The desert and the flood
Her democracy to maintain
A balance within the hemispheres
Your Freedom is a noble thing
For freedom lies in every beast.
But only humans carry the burden of democracy
This is the price we pay for freedom
But freedom is worthless
When all you grow is destroyed
When all you build is washed away
When all that you hold dear is taken without mercy
Look over the fence America
Look beyond your borders
Look at your planet
And look at this baby born
For it may never grow up to remember you
poem by Steven Cooke
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Unbelievers (Chapter 109, Holy Koran)
I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Merciful Giver.
Say, O those who disbelieve
I don't worship that you worship
And you don't worship Him Whom I worship
And I won't worship that you worship
And you don't worship Him Whom I worship
Your religion is yours and our religion is ours to keep.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Ordinary Worship
Ordinary people in this life, are used for God through Jesus Christ,
To help other men come to see, what He has done for you and me.
First worship begins in our hearts; it’s where all true worship starts,
And true worship, you will find, is with all your heart, soul and mind.
We seek God in an ordinary way, and to The Lord we humbly pray,
We worship God in Spirit and Truth, with no need of a sign or proof,
Knowing that He’s a God of Love, we lift our heart to heaven above.
Not confined by just one steeple, we worship as a universal people.
Ordinary people from every nation, become as one in His Salvation,
Saved by One Extraordinary God, to serve Him wherever men trod.
We direct our worship to God above, expressing to Him all our love,
And thankfulness for His only Son, God’s gift unmatched by anyone.
Our worship is mediated by Christ, who died to give all men new life,
A life of service we devote to Him, who died as a sacrifice for our sin.
Worship is performed in The Spirit, and a blessing to all who hear it,
As believers we gather corporately, to praise The King of all Eternity.
With hearts bowing in submission, to The Lord’s Great Commission,
Filled with reverence and in awe, of Christ, The King and Lord of all,
Prepared for service and ministry, for The Lord and God of Eternity,
Are ordinary people saved by Christ, to be an extraordinary sacrifice.
(Copyright ©07/2006)
poem by Bob Gotti
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No one I know of has foreseen an America like the one we live in today. No one (except perhaps the acidic H. L. Mencken, who famously described American democracy as "the worship of jackals by jackasses") could have imagined that the 21st-century catastrophe to befall the U.S.A., the most debasing of disasters, would appear not, say, in the terrifying guise of an Orwellian Big Brother but in the ominously ridiculous commedia dell’arte figure of the boastful buffoon.
quote by Philip Roth
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Iliad: Book 11
And now as Dawn rose from her couch beside Tithonus, harbinger of
light alike to mortals and immortals, Jove sent fierce Discord with
the ensign of war in her hands to the ships of the Achaeans. She
took her stand by the huge black hull of Ulysses' ship which was
middlemost of all, so that her voice might carry farthest on either
side, on the one hand towards the tents of Ajax son of Telamon, and on
the other towards those of Achilles- for these two heroes,
well-assured of their own strength, had valorously drawn up their
ships at the two ends of the line. There she took her stand, and
raised a cry both loud and shrill that filled the Achaeans with
courage, giving them heart to fight resolutely and with all their
might, so that they had rather stay there and do battle than go home
in their ships.
The son of Atreus shouted aloud and bade the Argives gird themselves
for battle while he put on his armour. First he girded his goodly
greaves about his legs, making them fast with ankle clasps of
silver; and about his chest he set the breastplate which Cinyras had
once given him as a guest-gift. It had been noised abroad as far as
Cyprus that the Achaeans were about to sail for Troy, and therefore he
gave it to the king. It had ten courses of dark cyanus, twelve of
gold, and ten of tin. There were serpents of cyanus that reared
themselves up towards the neck, three upon either side, like the
rainbows which the son of Saturn has set in heaven as a sign to mortal
men. About his shoulders he threw his sword, studded with bosses of
gold; and the scabbard was of silver with a chain of gold wherewith to
hang it. He took moreover the richly-dight shield that covered his
body when he was in battle- fair to see, with ten circles of bronze
running all round see, wit it. On the body of the shield there were
twenty bosses of white tin, with another of dark cyanus in the middle:
this last was made to show a Gorgon's head, fierce and grim, with Rout
and Panic on either side. The band for the arm to go through was of
silver, on which there was a writhing snake of cyanus with three heads
that sprang from a single neck, and went in and out among one another.
On his head Agamemnon set a helmet, with a peak before and behind, and
four plumes of horse-hair that nodded menacingly above it; then he
grasped two redoubtable bronze-shod spears, and the gleam of his
armour shot from him as a flame into the firmament, while Juno and
Minerva thundered in honour of the king of rich Mycene.
Every man now left his horses in charge of his charioteer to hold
them in readiness by the trench, while he went into battle on foot
clad in full armour, and a mighty uproar rose on high into the
dawning. The chiefs were armed and at the trench before the horses got
there, but these came up presently. The son of Saturn sent a portent
of evil sound about their host, and the dew fell red with blood, for
he was about to send many a brave man hurrying down to Hades.
The Trojans, on the other side upon the rising slope of the plain,
were gathered round great Hector, noble Polydamas, Aeneas who was
honoured by the Trojans like an immortal, and the three sons of
Antenor, Polybus, Agenor, and young Acamas beauteous as a god.
Hector's round shield showed in the front rank, and as some baneful
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Tannhauser
The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.
[...] Read more
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Book Of The Duchesse
THE PROEM
I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
How that I live, for day ne nighte
I may nat slepe wel nigh noght,
I have so many an ydel thoght
Purely for defaute of slepe
That, by my trouthe, I take no kepe
Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,
Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.
Al is y-liche good to me --
Ioye or sorowe, wherso hyt be --
For I have feling in no-thinge,
But, as it were, a mased thing,
Alway in point to falle a-doun;
For sorwful imaginacioun
Is alway hoolly in my minde.
And wel ye wite, agaynes kynde
Hit were to liven in this wyse;
For nature wolde nat suffyse
To noon erthely creature
Not longe tyme to endure
Withoute slepe, and been in sorwe;
And I ne may, ne night ne morwe,
Slepe; and thus melancolye
And dreed I have for to dye,
Defaute of slepe and hevinesse
Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse,
That I have lost al lustihede.
Suche fantasies ben in myn hede
So I not what is best to do.
But men myght axe me, why soo
I may not slepe, and what me is?
But natheles, who aske this
Leseth his asking trewely.
My-selven can not telle why
The sooth; but trewely, as I gesse,
I holde hit be a siknesse
That I have suffred this eight yere,
And yet my bote is never the nere;
For ther is phisicien but oon,
That may me hele; but that is doon.
Passe we over until eft;
That wil not be, moot nede be left;
Our first matere is good to kepe.
So whan I saw I might not slepe,
Til now late, this other night,
Upon my bedde I sat upright
And bad oon reche me a book,
A romaunce, and he hit me took
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Christmas-Eve
I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.
II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning
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