Citatepedia^®.com

See, justice is a joke in this country, and it stinks of its hypocricy.

quote by H. Rap Brown
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

On the Innate Drive For What is Right

As life bled, martyrdom flared its buds.
Repression, red from irritation,
Rendered chinks and cracks; but thuds of
Armament - in cowardice - accomplice of the
Dictatorial blight thro' countless years -
Wreaked its retribution:
Yet hope began to bloom a coloured carapace
Enshrining their allegiance ‘gainst the
Terror in their tears.

And on! Splits yawned - breaches in the junta:
Flesh fought fanatical minds -
Bullets welcomed into open hands
And blessed with yearnings for morality:
Chiselled man-toys of death and mutilation
Couldn't repel the might of freedom
Surging at the bright horizon.

Crepuscular rays of purpose, body,
Flooded pandemonium with
Overwhelming clarity, direction -
Burdened clouds drifting wayward as the
Light channelled out a vision,
Intensifying focus on tomorrow -
Deepen their stride
As they home in to
What is theirs,
Rightfully theirs!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Justice...

… Slow Justice
Is Better Than No Justice
… I Just Want Justice and Peace

To Feel Justice
It Must Be Real Justice
Not Cut-Deals Or Just A Piece

Full Justice
Not Pull The Wool Justice
She’s Already Been Blindfolded Enough

We Accuse Justice
But To Lose Justice
Is To Unlock Chaos’ Cuffs

Justice …
Is Lustrous
In Pearls Of Conviction Displayed

Justice …
The Huntress
Were Wild-Wily-Wrongs Are Caged

A Cry For Justice
Is Why Justice’s
Scales-Weights Shouldn’t Be In Doubt

Legal Justice
Be Equal Justice
With Rules To Balance It Out

Honest Justice
Promise Justice
Is Right For The Poor and Oppressed

But Even Rich Justice
And Even Quick Justice
Should Be A Standard, Silvered Process

Raw Justice
Shouldn’t Be Flawed Justice
But Free To All Everywhere

The Power Of Justice
Is That The Hour Of Justice
Doesn’t Run Out Of Time Anywhere

Men Must Court Justice
And Support Justice

[...] Read more

poem by MoonBee Canady
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Justice Of The Peace

(ian hunter)
Its such a terrible shame it was only a game
Then her brothers found out seven johnny be goodes
We was only pretending at mummys and daddys
They totally misunderstood
Oh what a terrible plight what a terrible fight
It was too much to bear her father said ere
I think you better sign its a letter designed
To have you married by the first of the year
Get the justice of the peace
Get the justice get the justice of the peace
Oh get the justice of the peace
Get the justice get the justice of the peace
If you want to play with fire
Youll get yourself burned
I was messing with the ashes
But look at how it turned out
Get the justice of the peace
Get the justice get the justice of the peace
Oh what a terrible waste such a shocking disgrace
To give me away Im too young to die
A shotgun wedding heading straight for the sky
And Im shy mary ellen Im shy y y y
Get the justice of the peace
Get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
Come on!
Get the justice of the peace
Get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
When your chips go down
You came on the dice
Forget the mississippi
Take some friendly advice
Get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
(give it to me old chum)
Get the justice of the peace
Get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
Get the justice of the peace
Get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
If you want to play with fire
Youll get yourself burned
And I was messing with the ashes
And look at how it turned out
Ill get the justice get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice Ill get the justice of the peace
Ill get the justice get the justice of the peace

[...] Read more

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Whose Country Is This?

Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hammer Of Justice

You see me but I'm not there
Like the calm before the storm
You hear me, I'm everywhere
In the wind and in the rain
Feel me in every breeze
I'm the chill inside your spine
I'm burning you start to freeze
As you slowly turn around
And down in your hole
Solitary darkness rule
You are forlorn
Cause justice will be mine
Prowling the night
Justice calling - We'll track you down
Justice calling - Ready to strike
Justice calling - Breaking the chains
Hammer of Justice seeking his revenge
Dead man walking by
There's a void inside his eyes
Judgement, a final sigh
Here the screams electrified
As the mirror turns blank
And your essence fades away
Your chapter's closed
Sealed with thunderbolts
Prowling the night
Justice calling - We'll track you down
Justice calling - Ready to strike
Justice calling - Breaking the chains
Strike with the Hammer of Justice
Justice calling - We'll track you down
Justice calling - Ready to strike
Justice calling - Breaking the chains
Hammer of Justice seeking his revenge
I see the injustice everywhere I go
I search for tomorrow and I know you will be there
The hammer of justice holds the key to the future
The bringer of sorrow is the last you'll see
Justice calling - We'll track you down
Justice calling - Ready to strike
Justice calling - Breaking the chains
Strike with the Hammer of Justice
Justice calling - We'll track you down
Justice calling - Ready to strike
Justice calling - Breaking the chains
Hammer of Justice seeking his revenge

song performed by Hammerfall
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

911 Is A Joke

Now I dialed nine one one a long time ago
Dont you see how late theyre reactin
They only come, and they come when they wanna
So get the morgue truck em back the goner
They dont care cause they stay paid anyway
They treat you like an ace that cant be betrayed
I know you stumble with no use people
If your life is on the line, then youre dead today
Late comings with the late comin stretcher -
Thats a body bag in disguise - yall Ill betcha
I call em body snatchers
Quick they come to fetch you -
With an autopsy ambulance just to dissect ya
They are the kings cos they swing amputation
Lose your arms your legs the famous compilation
I can prove it to you watch the rotation
It all adds up to a funky situation
Get up, get get down
911 is a joke in yo town
Get up, get get down
Late 911 wears the late crown
(chorus)
(ow)
911 is a joke , 911 is a joke
Everyday they dont never come correct
You can ask my man right here with the broken neck
Hes a witness to the job never bein done
He wouldve been in full effect , 911
Is a joke because their always jokin
They the token to your life when its croakin
They need to be in a pawn shop on a 911 -
Is a joke we dont want em
I call a cab cause a cab will come quicker
The doctors huddle up and call a flea flicker
The reason that I say that cause they
Flick you off like fleas
They be laughin at ya while youre crawlin on our knees
And to the strength, so go the length
Thinkin you are first when you really are tenth
You better wake up and smell the real flavor
Cause 911 is a fake life saver
(chorus) (chorus)
Ow, ow 911 is a joke
911 is a joke,
911 is a joke,
911 is a joke, 911 is a joke.
(get up, get get down)
911 is a joke, 911 is a joke, 911 is a joke
(get up, get get down)
911 is a joke, 911 is a joke, 911 is a joke

[...] Read more

song performed by Duran Duran
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Salut Au Monde

O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended links, each hook'd to the next!
Each answering all--each sharing the earth with all.

What widens within you, Walt Whitman?
What waves and soils exuding?
What climes? what persons and lands are here?
Who are the infants? some playing, some slumbering?
Who are the girls? who are the married women?
Who are the groups of old men going slowly with their arms about each
other's necks?
What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these?
What are the mountains call'd that rise so high in the mists?
What myriads of dwellings are they, fill'd with dwellers?

Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens;
Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east--America is provided for in the
west;
Banding the bulge of the earth winds the hot equator,
Curiously north and south turn the axis-ends;
Within me is the longest day--the sun wheels in slanting rings--it
does not set for months;
Stretch'd in due time within me the midnight sun just rises above the
horizon, and sinks again;
Within me zones, seas, cataracts, plants, volcanoes, groups,
Malaysia, Polynesia, and the great West Indian islands.

What do you hear, Walt Whitman?

I hear the workman singing, and the farmer's wife singing;
I hear in the distance the sounds of children, and of animals early
in the day;
I hear quick rifle-cracks from the riflemen of East Tennessee and
Kentucky, hunting on hills;
I hear emulous shouts of Australians, pursuing the wild horse;
I hear the Spanish dance, with castanets, in the chestnut shade, to
the rebeck and guitar;
I hear continual echoes from the Thames;
I hear fierce French liberty songs;
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musical recitative of old
poems;
I hear the Virginia plantation-chorus of negroes, of a harvest night,
in the glare of pine-knots;
I hear the strong baritone of the 'long-shore-men of Mannahatta;
I hear the stevedores unlading the cargoes, and singing;
I hear the screams of the water-fowl of solitary north-west lakes;
I hear the rustling pattering of locusts, as they strike the grain
and grass with the showers of their terrible clouds;
I hear the Coptic refrain, toward sundown, pensively falling on the

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Tale I

That all men would be cowards if they dare,
Some men we know have courage to declare;
And this the life of many a hero shows,
That, like the tide, man's courage ebbs and flows:
With friends and gay companions round them, then
Men boldly speak and have the hearts of men;
Who, with opponents seated miss the aid
Of kind applauding looks, and grow afraid;
Like timid travelers in the night, they fear
Th' assault of foes, when not a friend is near.
In contest mighty, and of conquest proud,
Was Justice Bolt, impetuous, warm, and loud;
His fame, his prowess all the country knew,
And disputants, with one so fierce, were few:
He was a younger son, for law design'd,
With dauntless look and persevering mind;
While yet a clerk, for disputation famed,
No efforts tired him, and no conflicts tamed.
Scarcely he bade his master's desk adieu,
When both his brothers from the world withdrew.
An ample fortune he from them possessed,
And was with saving care and prudence bless'd.
Now would he go and to the country give
Example how an English 'squire should live;
How bounteous, yet how frugal man may be,
By well-order'd hospitality;
He would the rights of all so well maintain.
That none should idle be, and none complain.
All this and more he purposed--and what man
Could do, he did to realise his plan;
But time convinced him that we cannot keep
A breed of reasoners like a flock of sheep;
For they, so far from following as we lead,
Make that a cause why they will not proceed.
Man will not follow where a rule is shown,
But loves to take a method of his own:
Explain the way with all your care and skill,
This will he quit, if but to prove he will. -
Yet had our Justice honour--and the crowd,
Awed by his presence, their respect avow'd.
In later years he found his heart incline,
More than in youth, to gen'rous food and wine;
But no indulgence check'd the powerful love
He felt to teach, to argue, and reprove.
Meetings, or public calls, he never miss'd -
To dictate often, always to assist.
Oft he the clergy join'd, and not a cause
Pertain'd to them but he could quote the laws;
He upon tithes and residence display'd
A fund of knowledge for the hearer's aid;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Over My Head (Better Off Dead)

What happened to you
You've played the victim for so long now in this game
What I thought was true
Was made of fiction and I'm following the same
But if I try to make sense of this mess I'm in
I'm not sure where I should begin
I'm falling, I'm falling
Now im in over my head
For something I've said
Completely misread
I'm better off dead
And now I can see
How fake it can be
Hhis hypocricy
Is beginning to get to me
I'ts none of my concern
Don't look at me 'cuz I dont believe in fame
I guess you never heard
I've met our makers, they dont even know your name
But if I had to say goodbye to leave this hell
I'd say my time has served me well
I'm falling, I'm falling
Now I'm in over my head
For something I've said
Completely misread
I'm better off dead
And now I can see
How fake it can be
This hypocricy
Is beginning to get to
This came long before
Those who suffer more
I'm too awake for this to be a nightmare
Whats with my disgrace
I've lost the human race
No one plans for it to blow up in their face
Who said it was easy to put back all these peices?
Who said it was so easy to put back all these peices?
Now I'm in over my head
For something I've said
Completely misread
I'm better off dead
And now I can see
How fake it can be
This hypocricy
Is beginning to get to me
Over my head
Better off dead,
Over my head,
Better off dead

song performed by Sum 41
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Wandering Justice

Wandering Justice
O! Dear, have I hit a miss?
With wandering justice

When society systems fail
And someone goes to jail
Without any chance of bail
Or ever setting out again on sea to sail
For something they did not do; it is a sad tale

When there is war instead of peace
And dignified people are looking for ass to kiss
Where is justice?

Countries are suffering in health and poverty
Whilst others are enjoying wealth and property
Where is justice?

O! Dear, have I hit a miss?
With wandering justice

When someone you love
Is taken away to the skies above
Where is the justice?

When you read endlessly to take exams
Another passes it with some fraudulent scam
Where is the justice?

When all your life you work so hard
Doesn’t it get you viciously mad?
When the jackpot hits another who is bad
Where is the justice?

When life takes away your child
Because you ignored health symptoms as mild
Where is the justice?

At work when your original innovations
Reward your boss with a standing ovation
Followed by a double or triple promotion
And all you get from the boss is a caution
Where is the justice?

When living a healthy life is nothing but a trick
As destiny picks on you for the sake of a kick
With illnesses for the unhealthy and the weak
All the same you are the one who ends up sick
Where is the justice?

[...] Read more

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Tale of Gamelyn

Fitt 1

Lithes and listneth and harkeneth aright,
And ye shul here of a doughty knyght;
Sire John of Boundes was his name,
He coude of norture and of mochel game.
Thre sones the knyght had and with his body he wan,
The eldest was a moche schrewe and sone bygan.
His brether loved wel her fader and of hym were agast,
The eldest deserved his faders curs and had it atte last.
The good knight his fadere lyved so yore,
That deth was comen hym to and handled hym ful sore.
The good knyght cared sore sik ther he lay,
How his children shuld lyven after his day.
He had bene wide where but non husbonde he was,
Al the londe that he had it was purchas.
Fayn he wold it were dressed amonge hem alle,
That eche of hem had his parte as it myght falle.
Thoo sente he in to contrey after wise knyghtes
To helpen delen his londes and dressen hem to-rightes.
He sent hem word by letters thei shul hie blyve,
If thei wolle speke with hym whilst he was alyve.

Whan the knyghtes harden sik that he lay,
Had thei no rest neither nyght ne day,
Til thei come to hym ther he lay stille
On his dethes bedde to abide goddys wille.
Than seide the good knyght seke ther he lay,
'Lordes, I you warne for soth, without nay,
I may no lenger lyven here in this stounde;
For thorgh goddis wille deth droueth me to grounde.'
Ther nas noon of hem alle that herd hym aright,
That thei ne had routh of that ilk knyght,
And seide, 'Sir, for goddes love dismay you nought;
God may don boote of bale that is now ywrought.'
Than speke the good knyght sik ther he lay,
'Boote of bale God may sende I wote it is no nay;
But I beseche you knyghtes for the love of me,
Goth and dresseth my londes amonge my sones thre.
And for the love of God deleth not amyss,
And forgeteth not Gamelyne my yonge sone that is.
Taketh hede to that oon as wel as to that other;
Seelde ye seen eny hier helpen his brother.'

Thoo lete thei the knyght lyen that was not in hele,
And wenten into counselle his londes for to dele;
For to delen hem alle to on that was her thought.
And for Gamelyn was yongest he shuld have nought.
All the londe that ther was thei dalten it in two,
And lete Gamelyne the yonge without londe goo,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Libelle of Englyshe Polycye

Here beginneth the Prologe of the processe of the Libelle of Englyshe polycye, exhortynge alle Englande to kepe the see enviroun and namelye the narowe see, shewynge whate profete commeth thereof and also whate worshype and salvacione to Englande and to alle Englyshe menne.

The trewe processe of Englysh polycye
Of utterwarde to kepe thys regne in rest
Of oure England, that no man may denye
Ner say of soth but it is one the best,
Is thys, as who seith, south, north, est and west
Cheryshe marchandyse, kepe thamyralte,
That we bee maysteres of the narowe see.

For Sigesmonde the grete Emperoure,
Whyche yet regneth, whan he was in this londe
Wyth kynge Herry the vte, prince of honoure,
Here moche glorye, as hym thought, he founde,
A myghty londe, whyche hadde take on honde
To werre in Fraunce and make mortalite,
And ever well kept rounde aboute the see.

And to the kynge thus he seyde, 'My brothere',
Whan he perceyved too townes, Calys and Dovere,
'Of alle youre townes to chese of one and other
To kepe the see and sone for to come overe,
To werre oughtwardes and youre regne to recovere,
Kepe these too townes sure to youre mageste
As youre tweyne eyne to kepe the narowe see'.

For if this see be kepte in tyme of werre,
Who cane here passe withought daunger and woo?
Who may eschape, who may myschef dyfferre?
What marchaundy may forby be agoo?
For nedes hem muste take truse every foo,
Flaundres and Spayne and othere, trust to me,
Or ellis hyndered alle for thys narowe see.

Therfore I caste me by a lytell wrytinge
To shewe att eye thys conclusione,
For concyens and for myne acquytynge
Ayenst God, and ageyne abusyon
And cowardyse and to oure enmyes confusione;
For iiij. thynges oure noble sheueth to me,
Kyng, shype and swerde and pouer of the see.

Where bene oure shippes, where bene oure swerdes become?
Owre enmyes bid for the shippe sette a shepe.
Allas, oure reule halteth, hit is benome.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesly

Part the First

Mery it was in the grene forest
Amonge the leves grene,
Wheras men hunt east and west,
Wyth bowes and arrowes kene,

To ryse the dere out of theyr denne,
Suche sightes hath ofte bene sene,
As by thre yemen of the north countrey,
By them it is I meane.

The one of them hight Adam Bel,
The other Clym of the Clough,
The thyrd was William of Cloudesly,
An archer good ynough.

They were outlawed for venyson,
These yemen everychone;
They swore them brethren upon a day,
To Englyshe-wood for to gone.

Now lith and lysten, gentylmen,
That of myrthes loveth to here:
Two of them were single men,
The third had a wedded fere.

Wyllyam was the wedded man,
Muche more then was hys care:
He sayde to hys brethren upon a day,
To Carleile he would fare,

For to speke with fayre Alyce his wife,
And with hys chyldren thre.
'By my trouth,' sayde Adam Bel,
'Not by the counsell of me.

'For if ye go to Carleile, brother,
And from thys wylde wode wende,
If the justice may you take,
Your lyfe were at an ende.'

'If that I come not to-morrowe, brother,
By pryme to you agayne,
Truste you then that I am 'taken,'
Or else that I am slayne.'

He toke hys leave of hys brethren two,
And to Carleile he is gon;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

...And Justice For All

Halls of Justice Painted Green
Money Talking
Power Wolves Beset Your Door
Hear Them Stalking
Soon You'll Please Their Appetite
They Devour
Hammer of Justice Crushes You
Overpower

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price You Pay
Nothing Can Save You

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

Apathy Their Stepping Stone
So Unfeeling
Hidden Deep Animosity
So Deceiving
Through Your Eyes Their Light Burns
Hoping to Find
Inquisition Sinking You
With Prying Minds

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price You Pay
Nothing Can Save You

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All

[...] Read more

song performed by Metallica from ...And Justice For All
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

... & Justice For All

Halls of justice painted green
Money talking
Power wolves beset your door
Hear them stalking
Soon youll please their appetite
They devour
Hammer of justice crushes you
Overpower
The ultimate in vanity
Exploiting their supremacy
I cant believe the things you say
I cant believe
I cant believe the price you pay
Nothing can save you
Justice is lost
Justice is raped
Justice is gone
Pulling your strings
Justice is done
Seeking no truth
Winning is all
Find it so grim
So true
So real
Apathy their stepping stone
So unfeeling
Hidden deep animosity
So deceiving
Through your eyes their light burns
Hoping to find
Inquisition sinking you
With prying minds
The ultimate in vanity
Exploiting their supremacy
I cant believe the things you say
I cant believe
I cant believe the price you pay
Nothing can save you
Justice is lost
Justice is raped
Justice is gone
Pulling your strings
Justice is done
Seeking no truth
Winning is all
Find it so grim
So true
So real
Lady justice has been raped
Truth assassin

[...] Read more

song performed by Metallica
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Poet's Voice XV

Part One

The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry.

My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty.

Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct the stranger through the dark.

I do all these things because I live in them; and if destiny should tie my hands and prevent me from so doing, then death would be my only desire. For I am a poet, and if I cannot give, I shall refuse to receive.

Humanity rages like a tempest, but I sigh in silence for I know the storm must pass away while a sigh goes to God.

Human kinds cling to earthly things, but I seek ever to embrace the torch of love so it will purify me by its fire and sear inhumanity from my heart.

Substantial things deaden a man without suffering; love awakens him with enlivening pains.

Humans are divided into different clans and tribes, and belong to countries and towns. But I find myself a stranger to all communities and belong to no settlement. The universe is my country and the human family is my tribe.

Men are weak, and it is sad that they divide amongst themselves. The world is narrow and it is unwise to cleave it into kingdoms, empires, and provinces.

Human kinds unite themselves one to destroy the temples of the soul, and they join hands to build edifices for earthly bodies. I stand alone listening to the voice of hope in my deep self saying, "As love enlivens a man's heart with pain, so ignorance teaches him the way of knowledge." Pain and ignorance lead to great joy and knowledge because the Supreme Being has created nothing vain under the sun.

Part Two

I have a yearning for my beautiful country, and I love its people because of their misery. But if my people rose, stimulated by plunder and motivated by what they call "patriotic spirit" to murder, and invaded my neighbor's country, then upon the committing of any human atrocity I would hate my people and my country.

I sing the praise of my birthplace and long to see the home of my children; but if the people in that home refused to shelter and feed the needy wayfarer, I would convert my praise into anger and my longing to forgetfulness. My inner voice would say, "The house that does not comfort the need is worthy of naught by destruction."

I love my native village with some of my love for my country; and I love my country with part of my love for the earth, all of which is my country; and I love the earth will all of myself because it is the haven of humanity, the manifest spirit of God.

Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that humanity is standing amidst ruins, hiding its nakedness behind tattered rags, shedding tears upon hollow cheeks, and calling for its children with pitiful voice. But the children are busy singing their clan's anthem; they are busy sharpening the swords and cannot hear the cry of their mothers.

Humanity appeals to its people but they listen not. Were one to listen, and console a mother by wiping her tears, other would say, "He is weak, affected by sentiment."

Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that Supreme Being preaches love and good-will. But the people ridicule such teachings. The Nazarene Jesus listened, and crucifixion was his lot; Socrates heard the voice and followed it, and he too fell victim in body. The followers of The Nazarene and Socrates are the followers of Deity, and since people will not kill them, they deride them, saying, "Ridicule is more bitter than killing."

Jerusalem could not kill The Nazarene, nor Athens Socrates; they are living yet and shall live eternally. Ridicule cannot triumph over the followers of Deity. They live and grow forever.

Part Three

Thou art my brother because you are a human, and we both are sons of one Holy Spirit; we are equal and made of the same earth.

You are here as my companion along the path of life, and my aid in understanding the meaning of hidden Truth. You are a human, and, that fact sufficing, I love you as a brother. You may speak of me as you choose, for Tomorrow shall take you away and will use your talk as evidence for his judgment, and you shall receive justice.

[...] Read more

poem by Khalil Gibran
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Gone Country

Shes been playing in a room on a strip
For ten years in vegas
Every night she looks in the mirror
But she only ages
Shes been reading about nashville and all
The records that everybodys buying
Says Im a simple girl myself
Grew up on long island
So she packs her bags to try her hand
Says this might be my last chance
Shes gone country, look at them boots
Shes gone country, back to her roots
Shes gone country, a new kind of suit
Shes gone country, here she comes
Well the folk scene is dead
But hes holding out in the village
Hes been writing songs speaking out
Against wealth and privilege
He says i dont believe in money
But a man could make him a killin
Cause some of that stuff dont sound
Much different than dylan
I hear down there its changed you see
Theyre not as backwards as they used to be
Hes gone country, look at them boots
Hes gone country, back to his roots
Hes gone country, a new kind of suit
Hes gone country, here he comes
He commutes to la
But hes got a house in the valley
But the bills are piling up
And the pop scene just aint on the rally
He says honey Im a serious composer
Schooled in voice and composition
But with the crime and the smog these days
This aint no place for children
Lord it sounds so easy it shouldnt take long
Be back in the money in no time at all
Hes gone country, look at them boots
Hes gone country, back to his roots
Hes gone country, a new kind of suit
Hes gone country, here he comes
Yeah hes gone country, a new kind of walk
Hes gone country, a new kind of talk
Hes gone country, look at them boots
Hes gone country, oh back to his roots
Hes gone country
Hes gone country
Everybodys gone country
Yeah weve gone country

[...] Read more

song performed by Alan Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Put Some Drive In Your Country

Well I was raised on country classics
Like Roy Acuff and George Jones
Lord I loved to hear 'em
Sing all them old time country songs
But I really got excited 'bout the time I turned 15
That's the first time I heard Waylon and old Bocephus sing
They put some drive in their country that really turned me on
Yeah, put some drive in your country
Keep country drivin' on
When the music gets you movin'
You know that can't be wrong
Every time I hear that outlaw stuff on my car radio
It makes me wanna drive it just as fast as it will go
Put some drive in your country
Let's keep country drivin' on
We played some shows in Atlanta on Sunday afternoons
The gigs were packed and I was nervous
Cause I wanted folks to like my tunes
The crowds were full of younger people
They were all about my age
So I turned and told the band just before we walked on stage
Put some drive in your country fellas
We turned those people on
Yeah, put some drive in your country
Keep country drivin' on
When the music gets you dancin'
You know that can't be wrong
See I made myself a promise when I was just a kid
I'd mix southern rock and country and that's just what I did
Put some drive in your country
Keep country drivin' on
Put some drive in your country
Hey, let's keep country drivin' on
When the music gets you movin'
You know that can't be wrong
I still love old country
I ain't tryin' to put it down
Damn I miss Duanne Allman
I wish he was still around
Put some drive in the country
Keep country drivin' on
Put some drive in the country
Let's keep country drivin' on

song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!