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Any commander who fails to exceed his authority is not of much use to his subordinates.

quote by Arleigh Burke
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Authority Song

They like to get you in a compromising position
They like to get you there and smille in your face
They think, theyre so cute when they got you in that condition
Well I think, its a total disgrace
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
So I call up my preacher
I say: gimme strenght for round 5
He said: you dont need no strength, you need to grow up, son
I said: growing up leads to growing old and then to dying,
And dying to me dont sound like all that much fun
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
Oh no
Oh no
I fight authority, authority always wins
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins

song performed by John Mellencamp
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The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.

Great Alexander was wise Philips son,
He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;
The cruel proud Olympias was his Mother,
She to Epirus warlike King was daughter.
This Prince (his father by Pausanias slain)
The twenty first of's age began to reign.
Great were the Gifts of nature which he had,
His education much to those did adde:
By art and nature both he was made fit,
To 'complish that which long before was writ.
The very day of his Nativity
To ground was burnt Dianaes Temple high:
An Omen to their near approaching woe,
Whose glory to the earth this king did throw.
His Rule to Greece he scorn'd should be confin'd,
The Universe scarce bound his proud vast mind.
This is the He-Goat which from Grecia came,
That ran in Choler on the Persian Ram,
That brake his horns, that threw him on the ground
To save him from his might no man was found:
Philip on this great Conquest had an eye,
But death did terminate those thoughts so high.
The Greeks had chose him Captain General,
Which honour to his Son did now befall.
(For as Worlds Monarch now we speak not on,
But as the King of little Macedon)
Restless both day and night his heart then was,
His high resolves which way to bring to pass;
Yet for a while in Greece is forc'd to stay,
Which makes each moment seem more then a day.
Thebes and stiff Athens both 'gainst him rebel,
Their mutinies by valour doth he quell.
This done against both right and natures Laws,
His kinsmen put to death, who gave no cause;
That no rebellion in in his absence be,
Nor making Title unto Sovereignty.
And all whom he suspects or fears will climbe,
Now taste of death least they deserv'd in time,
Nor wonder is t if he in blood begin,
For Cruelty was his parental sin,
Thus eased now of troubles and of fears,
Next spring his course to Asia he steers;
Leavs Sage Antipater, at home to sway,
And through the Hellispont his Ships made way.
Coming to Land, his dart on shore he throws,
Then with alacrity he after goes;
And with a bount'ous heart and courage brave,
His little wealth among his Souldiers gave.
And being ask'd what for himself was left,
Reply'd, enough, sith only hope he kept.

[...] Read more

poem by Anne Bradstreet
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The Ship That Never Returned

On a summer's day while the waves were rippling, with a quiet and a gentle breeze;
A ship set sail with a cargo laden for a port beyond the sea.

Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

There were sad farewells, there were friends forsaken, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander on a ship that never returned.

Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

Said a feeble lad to his aged mother, I must cross that deep blue sea,
For I hear of a land in the far off country, where there's health and strength for me.

Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

'Tis a gleam of hope and a maze of danger, and our fate is still to learn,
And a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

Said this feeble lad to his aged mother, as he kissed his weeping wife,
"Just one more purse of that golden treasure, it will last us all through life.

Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

"Then we'll live in peace and joy together and enjoy all I have earned."
So they sent him forth with a smile and blessing on a ship that never returned.

Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.

poem by Henry Clay Work
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Today... 'Commander

A great Leader and Commander was given
charge of leading His people into heaven.
We walk in His footsteps and obey His words
for He is our King of kings and Lord of lords.

'Come and choose this day whom you will serve' we hear
the voice of Joshua calling loud and clear
and joining with him in this response we say
'as for me—I will serve the Lord from this day.'

Examples of His leadership can be seen
in the miracles performed on this worlds scene.
Demonstrating His power as King of kings
and His right to be Commander of all things

Healing the Centurions Servant (Luke 7: 1-10)

'Just say the word and Your great power reveal
for I believe that my servant You can heal.
I'm a man understanding authority
and can recognise it in the One I see.'

These are words the Centurion said to You
for he saw great authority in You too.
As Commander Your authority's not bound
by any earthly barrier or battleground.

The Raising of Lazarus from the dead (John 11: 17-44)

They opened the tomb and rolled the stone away
then they heard Your command in a loud voice say
'Lazarus come out' and before them they saw
he who had been dead was not dead any more.

Healing the man possessed (Mark 5: 1-13)

With this man the demons always had their way
among the tombs during the night and the day.
'Legion, Come out of him' to the man You said
and at the Commanders voice the demons fled.

They had to obey You for You were Divine
and they fled to the hills entering the swine.
Then the two thousand demons ran down the bank

[...] Read more

poem by Roy Allen
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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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This Spiraling Cliff

mmm
The subject matter and the topic,
You have chosen to discuss
Is most interesting.

You hint,
That a boat floating
Once with an incompetent commander,
Unaware of it floating towards the edge
Of a waterfall cascading at unquestionable speed.
And had been warned of this danger
Should 'not' be the one found at fault.
Because the waterfall at the time of his leadership
Was not as close as it is today?

And the new commander recently taking helm
Who dares to turn the ship away,
From this spiraling cliff
With reason to believe all aboard,
Face eminent and devastating danger?
Because he represents a vision
That has not been collectively decided,
By those wishing to continue sailing
With scheduled social events to attend?

And
Everyone aboard,
Now hears the thunderous roar of this waterfall?
But pretend the evidence of it does not exist?

I'd like to make this suggestion strongly recommended.
And this is hypothetically speaking,
Of course.

'Of course.'

If everyone 'now' hears,
The thunderous roar of this waterfall...
Wouldn't it be to the best of everyone's interest,
IF they paid attention?
And gave the new commander their support?

'In response to your hypothetical suggested recommendation,
To my 'hypothetical' inquisitive mention of this
Of course.
Giving the new commander that much authority,
Would reveal delusions all aboard 'this' ship
I mean 'the' ship,
Wish to keep to themselves without the embarrassment,
Of admitting

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Nothing Fails

I'm in love with you
You silly thing
Anyone can see
What is it with you
You silly thing
Just take it from me
It was not a chance meeting
Feel my heart beating
You're the One
You could take all this
Take it away
And I'd still have it all
Cause I've found the Tree of Life
And that is why
No longer scared if I fall
When I get lost in space
I can return to this place
Cause you're the one
(Chorus)
Nothing Fails
No more fears
Nothing Fails
You washed away my tears
Nothing Fails
No more fears
Nothing Fails
Nothing Fails
I'm not religious
But I feel so moved
Makes me wanna pray
Pray you'll always be here
I'm not religious
But I feel such love
Makes me wanna pray
When I get lost in space
I can return to this place
Cause you're the one
I'm not religious
But I feel so moved
Mmmm
I'm not religious
Makes me wanna pray
I'm not religious
But I feel so moved
Makes me wanna pray
Pray you'll always be here
I'm not religious
But I feel such love
Makes me wanna pray
(Repeat Chorus 2 x's)

[...] Read more

song performed by Madonna
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Button Down Your Hatches Quick

Button down your hatches quick...
You lassies fast grabbing lads.
Pull up your britches over your hips.
The commander comes to inspect the ship.
And we with a quickened pace must ensure...
The commander leaves impressed with it.

Remove all makeup from the boys.
And you girls make sure you wear slips.
Don't embarrass yourselves with low self esteem.
Remember the oath to maintain our greatness.
No matter what trash we wallow in and permit.
Impress with image to prove none of us are misfits.

Button down your hatches quick...
You lassies fast grabbing lads.
Pull up your britches over your hips.
The commander comes to inspect the ship.
And fast we must ensure...
The commander leaves impressed with it.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Authoritative Power

The Mighty God and Creator, is Jesus Christ, our Blessed Savior,
Who alone has complete Authority, from the beginning to eternity,
Who became a man but still God, becoming flesh to visit our sod,
The very Creator of all you see, came to be Savior of you and me.

For only Christ my dear friend, knows the beginning from the end,
The Alpha and The Omega is He, Who controls all things eternally,
The One Who sustains all the earth, sustains us through New Birth,
The One holding all things together, grants us life with Him forever.

Of God, Christ was the Incarnation, sent for each and every nation,
Sent into the very world He created, to be scoffed at while berated,
Crucified by peoples He knew, to provide salvation to me and you,
As one dead, taken from Calvary, put in a tomb to rise in Authority.

Authority He had before time began, before creating earth and man,
God’s Authority exceeding anyone, Power He displayed in His Son,
The power that put Heaven in place, was at Calvary, know as Grace,
Because God has the authority to, redeem sinners, like me and you.

The Mighty Creator’s returning again, to display Authority to all men,
At Christ’s return, long awaited, by believers on the earth He created,
During His reign as He rules, reigning with His own but judging fools,
As those souls that believed not God, will see His Authoritative Rod.

(Copyright ©03/2011)

poem by Bob Gotti
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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You Know Im Not Crazy

Say your mind has an overload
Your heart beats rythym
Hot and cold
Your stature has a naked buxx
When youre near
Youre not like us
Chorus:
You know Im not crazy
You know Im not crazy
I caught on to the way you smile
Love could only last a while
I couldnt love
I couldnt touch
The situation
Was too much
(chorus)
Your love fails me
Your love it fails me
Your love fails me
Your love it drives me crazy
Dont tell me that lovers always mistrust
The lies in your eyes
The death in your lust
Its more than distraction
You touch you feel
Our hearts dance apart
And you say this is real
You know Im not crazy
Talk about the love we feel
The passion that our hearts conceal
Kiss and run
The fools we trust
Love inside a blinding lust
(chorus)
Hold me to my every word
Forget about the things you heard
Time will conquer
Time will state
We owe every tear to fate
(chorus)
Your love fails me
Your love it fails me
Your love fails me
Your love it drives me crazy

song performed by Culture Club
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Iliad: Book 2

Now the other gods and the armed warriors on the plain slept
soundly, but Jove was wakeful, for he was thinking how to do honour to
Achilles, and destroyed much people at the ships of the Achaeans. In
the end he deemed it would be best to send a lying dream to King
Agamemnon; so he called one to him and said to it, "Lying Dream, go to
the ships of the Achaeans, into the tent of Agamemnon, and say to
him word to word as I now bid you. Tell him to get the Achaeans
instantly under arms, for he shall take Troy. There are no longer
divided counsels among the gods; Juno has brought them to her own
mind, and woe betides the Trojans."
The dream went when it had heard its message, and soon reached the
ships of the Achaeans. It sought Agamemnon son of Atreus and found him
in his tent, wrapped in a profound slumber. It hovered over his head
in the likeness of Nestor, son of Neleus, whom Agamemnon honoured
above all his councillors, and said:-
"You are sleeping, son of Atreus; one who has the welfare of his
host and so much other care upon his shoulders should dock his
sleep. Hear me at once, for I come as a messenger from Jove, who,
though he be not near, yet takes thought for you and pities you. He
bids you get the Achaeans instantly under arms, for you shall take
Troy. There are no longer divided counsels among the gods; Juno has
brought them over to her own mind, and woe betides the Trojans at
the hands of Jove. Remember this, and when you wake see that it does
not escape you."
The dream then left him, and he thought of things that were,
surely not to be accomplished. He thought that on that same day he was
to take the city of Priam, but he little knew what was in the mind
of Jove, who had many another hard-fought fight in store alike for
Danaans and Trojans. Then presently he woke, with the divine message
still ringing in his ears; so he sat upright, and put on his soft
shirt so fair and new, and over this his heavy cloak. He bound his
sandals on to his comely feet, and slung his silver-studded sword
about his shoulders; then he took the imperishable staff of his
father, and sallied forth to the ships of the Achaeans.
The goddess Dawn now wended her way to vast Olympus that she might
herald day to Jove and to the other immortals, and Agamemnon sent
the criers round to call the people in assembly; so they called them
and the people gathered thereon. But first he summoned a meeting of
the elders at the ship of Nestor king of Pylos, and when they were
assembled he laid a cunning counsel before them.
"My friends," said he, "I have had a dream from heaven in the dead
of night, and its face and figure resembled none but Nestor's. It
hovered over my head and said, 'You are sleeping, son of Atreus; one
who has the welfare of his host and so much other care upon his
shoulders should dock his sleep. Hear me at once, for I am a messenger
from Jove, who, though he be not near, yet takes thought for you and
pities you. He bids you get the Achaeans instantly under arms, for you
shall take Troy. There are no longer divided counsels among the
gods; Juno has brought them over to her own mind, and woe betides
the Trojans at the hands of Jove. Remember this.' The dream then

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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The merciless beloved

Knowing that you have crowded teeth,
he loves you and fails not.
Knowing that you have strange lips,
he loves you and fails not.
Knowing that you are not attainable,
he loves you and fails not.
Knowing that he must not love you,
he loves you and fails not.
However you ignore and evade,
he loves you and fails not.
Can you find some one better,
who can emulate him?
Are you a granite or limestone?
Can you save his love?
05.05.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Hey, Hey, When My Golden Bird Fails

When my golden bird fails.
Hail oh hail.
The storms coming in.
Tear down the sail.
There so frail.
Dreams turn into dust before your eyes.
You must compromise.
Between heaven and hell.
Listen I think I hear church bells.

But hey hey.
When my golden bird fails.
There will be more deals.
Still I will prevail.
The thoughts in my head have gotten stale.
I think I need to steal.
Oh the adrenaline I feel.
I'm on my knees.
I stand then kneel.
As if there might be something of a higher power out there.
But I shall not compare.
I wear soul on the outside never looking in.

But hey hey.
When my golden bird fails.
I shall exhale.
I shall come out of my shell.
Show you my power.
It's my dying hour.
But my mind has goes sour.
Tweak it a little.
Take another pill.
So you don't lye awake for goodness sake.

All when my golden bird fails.
All all all when
but hey hey
when my golden bird fails.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Song Of Mankind

If human fails to help humanity..
Who will think for humanity
With a feeling of li’l sympathy
Won’t be a matter of indignity…? ? ?

If human fails to help humanity
Who will think for humanity
With a feeling of li’l sympathy
Won’t be a matter of indignity…? ? ?

If human fails to help humanity…..

When a man sells his fellow men..
When a man bids for fellow men..

When a man sells his fellow men..
When a man bids for fellow men..
Uncivilized and uncultured….
Won’t be a matter of indignity? ?

If human fails to help humanity
Who will think for humanity
With a feeling of li’l sympathy
Won’t be a matter of indignity…? ? ?

If human fails to help humanity…

Let us stretch our hands..
To help the needy and poor..
With a feeling of warmth
We can make it sure! ! !

Let us stretch our hands..
To help the needy and poor..
With a feeling of warmth
We can make it sure! ! !

If a man cant be a human…
How would a demon become human? ?

If a man cant be a human…
How would a demon become human? ?
And If a demon becomes human
Won’t be a matter of indignity? ?

(Originally composed in Assamese as ‘Manuhe Manuhor Babe’ by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika)

(Set to original tune)

poem by Kamal Jyoti Borah
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I thought they know that I was the Commander in Chief, not that I know that I am the Commander in Chief, and they should behave; know how to behave to the Commander in Chief.

quote by Kamisese Mara
Added by Lucian Velea
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The battle of Isandhlwana

Shaded by a wild fig tree
where the Tugela river enters the ocean
representatives of British queen Victoria
demanded that the Zulus give up
their independence.

The Zulu king Cetshwayo
would never again send his impi
into battle against the Boer farmers,
but the British his impi would spear
and bash to death
and he ordered
his general Nishingwayo KaMahole Khoza
to halt the British invaders.

The Zulu commander remembered the battle
at Blood River well
where four hundred and seventy
Boer farmers fought
from behind their wagons
which they had drawn against each other
to form a almost impenetrable laagered fort
where only three Boer farmers were injured,
using flint lock rifles
three thousand of his warriors were killed,
and thousands more injured

and he knew that the Zulu faced there
an enemy trained through several generations
waging war against fierce men and cruel beasts
in harsh circumstances
making them marksmen and exceptional horsemen
believing in a almighty God
with whom they made a covenant
while asking for His help
and some warriors reported
spirits aiding the Boer fighters there,
but maybe that was as superstitions go.

These British soldiers
wore red and white costumes
as if going to a festival,
didn’t look rugged at all
and even under the fig tree
they were red from sunburn
and although they probably
prayed to the same god
as the Boer farmers
his translators told him
that they didn’t look so devoted

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poem by Gert Strydom
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