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Thousands of mercenaries, who have trained in camps on the territory of Chechnya as well as come in from abroad, are actually preparing to impose extremist ideas on the whole world.

quote by Boris Yeltsin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Veterinary Camps

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Allegany Camp

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Using Boot Camp

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Twin State

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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A Doorway

When you gave your love to me, I never gave you chains.
If you need to prove youre free.
My love for you remains (you know my love stays)
Love is not a prison cell.
True love can never die
Theres nothing that you shouldnt tell
You never have to lie (to me you shouldnt)
But if you have to keep something inside you.
You know Ill never want to steal it away
I respect your territory.
Hope theres room in world for me.
Is there room in your mind to see.
A doorway ? if you say
Blood is pumping through my heart.
And flowing through my veins.
All it keeps me living for.
The love that is sustains (you now I never).
Time stopped when I saw your face.
And if it start Ill cry
The universe is in your smile.
Is heaven in your eye ?
But if you have to keep something inside you.
You know Ill never want to steal it away
I respect your territory.
Hope theres room in your world for me.
Is there room in your mind to see.
A doorway ? if you say
I respect your territory (you need your territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (find a place in your world for me).
Is there room in your mind to see (I want a doorway).
A doorway ? if you say.
I respect your territory (you need your territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (keep a place in your mind for me ? ).
Is there room in your mind to see (I want a doorway).
A doorway ? if you say.
I know you need your territory (you need your territory.)
Is there room in your world for me (cant you see what it means to me ? ).
Hope theres room in your mind to see (I need a doorway).
A doorway ? one fine day (I want a).
I respect your territory (you need your territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (cant you find a place for me ? ).
Is there room in your mind to see.
A doorway ? if you say (I want a doorway).
I respect your territory (I need a territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (cant you find a place for me ? ).
Is there room in your mind to see (I want a doorway).
A doorway ? (I want a, I want a, I want a doorway).
If you say.

song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Through the eyes of a Field Coronet (Epic)

Introduction

In the kaki coloured tent in Umbilo he writes
his life’s story while women, children and babies are dying,
slowly but surely are obliterated, he see how his nation is suffering
while the events are notched into his mind.

Lying even heavier on him is the treason
of some other Afrikaners who for own gain
have delivered him, to imprisonment in this place of hatred
and thoughts go through him to write a book.

Prologue

The Afrikaner nation sprouted
from Dutchmen,
who fought decades without defeat
against the super power Spain

mixed with French Huguenots
who left their homes and belongings,
with the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Associate this then with the fact

that these people fought formidable
for seven generations
against every onslaught that they got
from savages en wild animals

becoming marksmen, riding
and taming wild horses
with one bullet per day
to hunt a wild antelope,

who migrated right across the country
over hills in mass protest
and then you have
the most formidable adversary
and then let them fight

in a natural wilderness
where the hunter,
the sniper and horseman excels
and any enemy is at a lost.

Let them then also be patriotic
into their souls,
believe in and read
out of the word of God

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Ideas For Walls

So many things in my head, Ive always had them before
No reason to be upset, theyre just ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Like putting paint on my feet & walking sideways in rows
My walls could be so complete, complete with patterns of toes
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing the left side, right side, which is the right side
Now-ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
A little m for the mirror, a double u for the wall
To make things perfectly clear, a great big h in the hall
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Is everybody confused? (no) Im making no sense at all
You want a room with a view you need ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing inside, outside, outside, right side
Inside, outside, which is the right side
Now -- ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas
Theyre just ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls

song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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Another Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries (in reply to A.E. Housman)

In the days when heaven shook
and Lucifer an angel of light,
took a third
of once holy ones with him
in a mercenary calling, made darkness his own,
when he tried to become equal to the creator God

that army of mercenaries fought
against Michael and his host
and lost, falling in defeat
and Michael and his host ended the rebellion,
had it suspended

and the mercenaries paid the price for their deceit,
(if any of them died they did deserved it)
and they fell like comets from the sky
and burning, aflame to this planet they came
which is still revolving as it did then

and here their leader entrapped man
with a cunning elusive plan
trying to take this world
into destruction with him

but as a mortal God walked this earth,
paid the price instead of man
to make the demon’s work undone
and still man has a choice
to where his affections lie

and in spite of the presence of mercenaries here
elements of love, sincerity, truth and grace
still abounds in the heart of men
who honour the almighty God.

[References: Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries by A.E. Housman and Another Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries by Hugh Macdiarmid in reply to A.E. Housman.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Rock n Roll Mercenaries

(talking, talking - wealth, talking - money, talking - power
Talking - horses, talking - fun, talking - self, talking - power
Talking - diamonds, talking - ego, talking - man, talking - wealth)
(and talking - power) (repeats)
Money is power, power is fame
Chorus:
Talking about rock n roll mercenaries
Soldiers of fortune by some other name
Im talking about rock n roll mercenaries
Money is power, n power is fame
Everything you pay to hear - just listen
Everything to catch your ear - just listen
Whatever it takes, theyre ready to sell
Anything and everything they do it themselves
(chorus)
Young are the victims so easily [swayed/slain]
[as some given are poisoned, all continuous placed]
Our conscience is a load, so heavy to carry, for a rock n roll mercenary
(chorus)
It starts with a game, see how they play
Till all of the laughter is faded away
Its not for the song, its not for the love
Its just for the gold and theres never enough - never enough
(chorus)
Its not for the song, its not for the love
Its just for the gold, theres never enough
(chorus)
(rock n roll mercenaries)
(talking, talking) (repeats out)
Rock n roll mercenaries - ooh, talkin about
Rock n roll mercenaries... (to fade)

song performed by Meat Loaf
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 6

Naval action of De Grasse and Graves. Capture of Cornwallis..
Thus view'd the sage. When, lo, in eastern skies,
From glooms unfolding, Gallia's coasts arise.
Bright o'er the scenes of state, a golden throne,
Instarr'd with gems and hung with purple, shone.
Great Louis there, the pride of monarchs, sate,
And fleets and moving armies round him wait;
O'er western shores extend his ardent eyes,
Thro' glorious toils where struggling nations rise;
Each virtuous deed, each new illustrious name,
Wakes in his soul the living light of fame.
He sees the liberal, universal cause,
That wondering worlds in still attention draws;
And marks, beyond, through western walks of day,
Where midnight suns their happier beams display,
What sires of unborn nations claim their birth,
And ask their empires in that waste of earth.
Then o'er the eastern world he turn'd his eye;
Where, sunk in slavery hapless kingdoms lie;
Saw realms exhausted to enrich a throne,
Their fruits untasted and their rights unknown:
A tear of pity spoke his melting mind–
He raised his sceptre to relieve mankind,
Eyed the great father of the Bourbon name,
Awaked his virtues and recall'd his fame.
Fired by the grandeur of the splendid throne,
Illustrious chiefs and councils round him shone;
On the glad youth with kindling joy they gaze,
The rising heir of universal praise.
Vergennes rose stately o'er the noble throng,
And fates of nations on his accents hung;
Columbia's wrongs his indignation fired,
And generous thoughts his glowing breast inspired;
To aid her infant toils his counsel moved,
In freedom founded and by Heaven approved.
While other peers, in sacred virtue bold,
With eager voice the coming scenes unfold;
Surrounding heroes wait the monarch's word,
In foreign fields to draw the glittering sword,
Prepared with joy to trace the distant main,
Mix in the strife and join the martial train;
Who now assert the rights of sovereign power,
And build new empires on the western shore.
O'er all, the approving monarch cast a look,
And listening nations trembled while he spoke.
Ye states of France, and, ye of rising name,
That work those distant miracles of fame,
Hear and attend; let Heaven the witness bear,
We lift the sword, we aid the righteous war.
Let leagues eternal bind each friendly land,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Na Tian Piet's Sha'er Of The Late Sultan Abu Bakar Of Johor

In the name of God, let his word begin:
Praise be to God, let praises clear ring;
May our Lord, Jesus Christ's[8] blessings
Guide my pen through these poetizings!

This sha'er is an entirely new composition
Composed by myself, no fear of imitation.
It's Allah's name, I will keep calling out
While creating this poem to avoid confusion.

This story I'm relating at the present moment
I copy not, nor is it by other hands wrought;
Nothing whatsoever is here laid out
That hereunder is not clearly put forth.

Not that I am able to create with much ease,
To all that's to come I'm yet not accustomed;
Why, this sha'er at this time is being composed
Only to console my heart which is heavily laden.

I'm a peranakan[9], of Chinese origin,
Hardly perfect in character and mind;
I find much that I can not comprehend,
I'm not a man given to much wisdom.

Na Tian Piet[10] is what I go by name
I have in the past composed stories and poems;
Even when explained to - most stupid I remain
The more I keep talking the less I understand.

I was born in times gone by
In the country known as Bencoolen[11];
Indeed, I am more than stupid:
Ashamed am I composing this lay.

Twenty-four years have gone by
Since I moved to the island of Singapore;
My wife and children accompanied me
To Singapore, a most lovely country.

I stayed in Riau[12] for some time
Together with my wife and children;
Two full years in Riau territory,
Back to Singapore my legs carried me.

At the time when Acheh[13] was waging war
I went there with goods to trade,
I managed to sell them at exhorbitant prices:
Great indeed were the profits I made.

[...] Read more

poem by T. Wignesan
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How Did You Kill Me?

All German concentration camps
will be run under total authority
of dread Death's Head Units of SS;
after 1934 a unified Nazi plan killing

with Prussian military precision
Theodor Eicke will command
SS-Totenkopfverbände (SS-TV):
under SS, Heinrich Himmler

author creator of Dachau in 1933
creator of eastern Europe's death camps
head of most extremely feared unit;
in Nazi Germany the Gestapo in 1934

put in charge of Ministry of Interior
June 1934 Night of the Long Knives
grim SS deed conducted with cold chilling;
efficiency the stamp of events to horrify

appointed commander of unified police
forces in Germany in 1936 unlimited power
Himmler made ‘cattle' trains run on time;
ensured profit camps ran on business lines

concentration camps will be fully integrated
into Waffen-SS by 1944 standard practice
rotate SS members in and out of camps entire;
SS knew shared war crimes against humanity

Himmler chief architect of the Final Solution
uses Einsatzgruppen death squads formed by
Deputy Heydrich in German occupied countries;
to murder mostly Jew civilian non-combatants

Heinrich Himmler demonic vile nasty monster
will assume responsibility for establishing
operating inhuman abhorrent concentration camps;
extermination camps in which millions of inmates

will die in extremely painful systematic mass
gassing ruthless, merciless, heartless, inhumane
treatment scientific ratio overwork malnutrition;
ghastly dissection vivisection medical experiments

Nazi vivisection selected victim human beings
cut up cut apart without any mercy pain killers
no anaesthetics alleviates nerve agony alive cuttings;
surgery conducted for Nazi experimental purposes

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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An Abc Of Inner Peace

inner peace: a to z (© Raj Arumugam, September 2008)

Inner peace is effortless, as it’s always there within.
One just has to see it.

And once one truly sees this inner peace – not with words or just
intellectually, but actually see this inner peace within – it is one’s, always;
no one takes away that…

Nothing and no evil and no violent force or even the most difficult
of circumstances in one’s life can remove that inner peace that one
sees within; but let one see this not as a word, or as a phrase
but as an actuality.

Feel that peace, see that inner peace and let it radiate always – for it is
the harmony within each and it is always one’s own.

A


Let amity be your constant companion….Be at peace with all beings, equally at peace with those near and those far, and thus walk hand in hand with amity as in a bounteous garden…





B


Be mindful of your blessings always…To be alive, to breathe in fresh air;
and to be with the family and the companionship of good fellow-human
beings; and the kindness of strangers; and the creatures of this world
and the flowers that bloom, and to have a place in this marvelous planet
of ours….all these too are blessings….

There is a life of the body in the domain of the physical, and
the legitimate needs of the body are just as important as
one’s inner needs…

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Preparing To Fly

Im preparing to fly
Under my own steam
Im preparing to fly
Into a dream
Im in love all over again
Im head over heels
I cant even begin
To tell you how it feels
She lives on a rock
Surrounded by light
Shes young and shes wild
And shes treating me right
Im preparing to fly
Under my own steam
Im preparing to fly
Into a dream
I shed some light
I change my address
I havent felt so great
Since I first went west
Ive got brilliant intentions
Unthinkable plans
Ive got sparks and electric shocks
Just exploding from my hands
Im preparing to fly
Under my own steam
Im preparing to fly
Into a dream
Im back in the saddle
Im out in the clear
I got no regrets
Ive got nothing to fear
Ive battled my demons
Come out on top
Im gonna love you as hard as I can
Never gonna stop
Im preparing to fly
Under my own steam
Im preparing to fly
Into a dream

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Into Homelessness

into homelessness

today suddenly I woke up from deadness
I was dead peacefully
All a beautiful death

My home -your home could only be this beautiful earth-
So I presumed I also reign high on this beautiful earth like you

When you leave to live
from one country to another country
You say
one home to another home

I thence also drew a border in my mind
When people say you are homeless and
I am into homelessness…into bigger home called the BIG EARTH.
And my heart turning in that pulse into another heart so BIG

I shrunk out from into these unlimitedness
From the world of my deadness to my aliveness

Again I shall be playing a game of
deadness and aliveness
Aliveness and deadness

So I am alive today
What do I want to know
Surrounded by the sounds of Silence and solitude-
These walls are all I feel protected-these walls

A way my life designed and desired
The world can pierce through these silences-these walls
And reach me- so far the world in the form of Television
I also depend on the Television to know everything
Shot by shot
Scene by scene
Frame by frame
Channels upon channels
Breaking news is my breakfast now

Still the game of yours and mine
Mine and yours was live in the air
fresh exodus of Reang refugees from Mizoram
repatriation of 35,000 Bru people living in six refugee camps in Kanchanpur.
More than 300 huts were set ablaze along Tripura-Mizoram border.
Three refugee camps at Dhamdoey, Zoudiah and Tuipuibari

News aboard News home -all lost in New

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poem by Lovita J R Morang
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The Golden Age

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.

Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.

Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.

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poem by Alfred Austin
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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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