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All the Abrahamic faiths are marked by violence.

quote by Timothy Radcliffe
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Give Into Hate

Violence surrounds me
Violence in society
Violence in our eyes
Violence in their cries
Violence it's our fate?
Violence, it's too late?
Violence, no escape?
Violence, give into hate?
Is it human nature to act like animals?
We're all guilty, we're all criminals
Selfish species headed for a self destruction
Violent product of moral corruption
Violence for love
Violence because of hate
Violence, revolution
Violence of the state
Violence, you will find
Violence, it grips your mind
Violence, it's too late?
Violence, give into hate

song performed by Unseen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Video Violence

The currents rage deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Up in the morning, drinking his coffee
Turns on the tv to some slasher movie
Cartoon-like women, tied up and sweaty
Painting and screaming, thank you, have a nice day
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
His heart is pounding he switches the channel
Looking for something other than rape or murder
Or beatings or torture but except for walt disney
Its a twisted alliance, this age of video violence
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
The current rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Down at his job, his boss sits there screaming
If he loses his job, then life loses its meaning
His son is in high school, theres nothing hes learning
He sits by the tv, watching corvettes exploding, cause
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Down at a bar some woman is topless
Shes acned and scarred, her hair is a mess
While he shoves 5 dollars down her exotic panties
The video jukebox is, ah, playing madonna
While just down the block at some local theater
Theyre grabbing their crotches at the 13th beheading
As the dead rise to live, the live sink to die
The currents are deep and raging inside
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason is landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Our good working stiff looks a whore in the eye
Ties her to a bed

[...] Read more

song performed by Lou Reed
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Violence

(tennant/lowe)
----------------
The sons and brothers, fighting for another cause
Anything to give their lives some meaning
Busy with their guns and dreaming
Far away from here
Said they would act (said they would act)
In self-defense
And all the others, running 'round so hot and bothered
Anything to give their lives some meaning
In the evening
Running around with guns and
Said they would act (said they would act)
In self-defense
With violence
Violence breeds
Violence
(ooh yeah, ooh yeah)
Violence breeds
Violence
(ooh yeah, violence breeds violence)
(ooh yeah, breeds yeah, breeds yeah)
(ooh yeah, ooh yeah)
The son and brother, when he gets home
He gives someone some love
And mutters: "woman, (mutters woman)
You'll never understand (never understand)
I did what i said (did what i said)
In self-defense
With violence"
Violence breeds
Violence
(ooh yeah, ooh yeah)
Violence breeds
Violence
(ooh yeah, ooh yeah)
(ooh yeah, violence)
(ooh yeah, violence breeds violence)

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Who Says 'My Faith is Best

Who says ‘My Faith Is Best'?
They don't recognize what that faith is
They don't feel what is 'Soul of Faith'...
They are illiterate in all faiths...
As there is no faith which is best!

There are faiths who respect every race as humans,
Respect even those who are faithless!
Faith is having real faith in mankind
As it never intends harming any one.

People don't curse others because they aren't like thems,
Helping humans in every case.
There are faiths that say that females are half human
Although they are born from mothers like men!

So they are born from half,
Thus they are half of the half.
How can you believe in those humans
And call them a faithful race?

They cover their women in very ugly ways
So they can't see even their god's sunrays.
It's as if they rose from graves
To teach others they have special faiths.
They want everyone to cover like thems.

Faiths are faiths—
Understand...faith in your own talented way.
Don't repeat what others echolalialy say;
Believe in yourself and create your own faith.
Your faith must be based on harming no one else
As everyone will one day be no more than vestige,

And find happiness by what you created and helped.
That is to say, you're a creator,
Proud to create your own faith;
That is from your own cardiac and brain cells
Stay and believe!

Winter 2008

poem by Sylva Portoian
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Voices Of Freedom

The currents rage deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
Up in the morning drinking his coffee
turns on the TV to some slasher movie
Cartoon-like women, tied up and sweaty
painting and screaming, thank you, have a nice day
the currents rage, the dawn's upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
Na Na Na Na Na Na
Na Na Na Na Na Na
His heart is pounding he switches the channel
looking for something, other than rape or murder
Or beatings or torture, but except for Walt Disney
it's a twisted alliance, this age of Video Violence
The currents rage, the dawn's upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
The current rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
Down at his job his boss sits there screaming
if he loses his job, life looses its meaning
His son is in high school, there's nothing he's learning
he sits by the TV, watching Corvettes exploding, 'cause
The currents rage, the dawn's upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
No age of reason landing upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
Na Na Na Na Na Na
Na Na Na Na Na Na
Down at a bar some woman is topless
she's acned and scarred, her hair is a mess
While he shoves $5 down her exotic panties
the video jukebox is playing Madonna
While just down the block at some local theater
they're grabbing their crotches at the 13th beheading
As the dead rise to live, the live sink to die
the currents are deep and raging inside
The currents rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
No age of reason is landing upon us
this is

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Ode To A Saint Of Peace

An Ode to a Saint of Non-Violence – Mahatma Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi

He came from a non-descript Indian place
A village which would not have a place
In Her Majesty’s palace’ grace
What could this man for India raise?

When the Indian nation reeled
Under a foreign yoke
This frail man with iron will
Preached a master stroke

He visualized violence was no funnel
To get to the end of the tunnel
That the spring of freedom would gurgle
For the Indian freedom struggle

It is not arms and blood
Or revenge, violence or death
That will get India freedom
From the British kingdom

They can take away our right
They can make their sticks bite
They can take us to gaol
But they cannot take away our soul!

Protests with no violence
Will shake their conscience
It is the only way
For the British to loose its sway

Despite British scorn
And ire of critics
He made every Indian “re-born”
And friends of skeptics

Respect for all and love for mankind
He preached & practiced
He made every Indian aware
And the British beware

When the British enacted suppressive laws
This soul bonded us with his non-violent straw
His simplicity and truthfulness held all in awe
He gave us belief, pride and strength not to thaw

In 1930 Gandhi gave a key freedom call
Civil disobedience was the mantra for all
Salt Tax was the symbol of oppression

[...] Read more

poem by Arvind Chandak
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Cathlin Of Clutha

An address to Malvina, the daughter of Toscar. The poet relates the arrival of Cathlin in Selma, to solicit aid against Duth-carmor of Cluba, who had killed Cathmol for the sake of his daughter Lanul. Fingal declining to make a choice among his heroes, who were all claiming the command of the expedition, they retired "each to his hill of ghosts," to be determined by dreams. The spirit of Trenmor appears to Ossian and Oscar. They sail from the bay of Carmona, and on the fourth day, appear off the valley of Rath-col, in Inis-huna, where Duth-carmor had fixed his residence. Ossian despatches a bard to Duth-carmor to demand battle. Night comes on. The distress of Cathlin of Clutha. Ossian devolves the command on Oscar, who, according to the custom of the kings of Morven, before battle, retired to a neighboring hill. Upon the coming on of day, the battle joins. Oscar carries the mail and helmet of Duth-carmor to Cathlin, who had retired from the field. Cathlin is discovered to be the daughter of Cathmol in disguise, who had been carried off by force by, and had made her escape from, Duth-carmor.

COME, thou beam that art lonely, from watching in the night! The squalling winds are around thee, from all their echoing hills. Red, over my hundred streams, are the light-covered paths of the dead. They rejoice on the eddying winds, in the season of night. Dwells there no joy in song, white-hand of the harps of Lutha? Awake the voice of the string; roll my soul to me. It is a stream that has failed. Malvina, pour the song.

I hear thee from thy darkness in Selma, thou that watchest lonely by night! Why didst thou withhold the song from Ossian's falling soul? As the falling brook to the ear of the hunter, descending from his storm-covered hill, in a sunbeam rolls the echoing stream, he hears and shakes his dewy locks: such is the voice of Lutha to the friend of the spirits of heroes. My swelling bosom beats high. I look back on the days that are past. Come, thou beam that art lonely, from watching in the night!

In the echoing bay of Carmona we saw one day the bounding ship. On high hung a broken shield; it was marked with wandering blood. Forward came a youth in arms, and stretched his pointless spear. Long, over his tearful eyes, hung loose his disordered locks. Fingal gave the shell of kings. The words of the stranger arose. "In his hall lies Cathmol of Clutha, by the winding of his own dark streams. Duth-carmor saw white-bosomed Lanul, and pierced her father's side. In the rushy desert were my steps. He fled in the season of night. Give thine aid to Cathlin to revenge his father. I sought thee not as a beam in a land of clouds. Thou, like the sun, art known, king of echoing Selma!"

Selma's king looked around. In his presence we rose in arms. But who should lift the shield? for all had claimed the war. The night came down; we strode in silence, each to his hill of ghosts, that spirits might descend in our dreams to mark us for the field. We struck the shield of the dead: we raised the hum of songs. We thrice called the ghosts of our fathers. We laid us down in dreams. Trenmor came, before mine eyes, the tall form of other years! His blue hosts were behind him in half-distinguished rows. — Scarce seen is their strife in mist, or the stretching forward to deaths. I listened, but no sound was there. The forms were empty wind!

I started from the dream of ghosts. On a sudden blast flew my whistling hair. Low sounding. in the oak, is the departure of the dead. I took my shield from its bough. Onward came the rattling of steel. It was Oscar of Lego. He had seen his fathers. As rushes forth the blast on the bosom of whitening waves, so careless shall my course be, through ocean, to the dwelling of foes. I have seen the dead, my father! My beating soul is high! My fame is bright before me, like the streak of light on a cloud, when the broad sun comes forth, red traveller of the sky!"

" Grandson of Branno," I said, "not Oscar alone shall meet the foe. I rush forward, through ocean, to the woody dwelling of heroes. Let us contend, my son, like eagles from one rock, when they lift their broad wings against the stream of winds." We raised our sails in Carmona. From three ships they marked my shield on the wave, as I looked on nightly Ton-thena, red traveller between the clouds. Four days came the breeze abroad. Lumon came forward in mist. In winds were its hundred groves. Sunbeams marked at times its brown side. White leapt the foamy streams from all its echoing rocks.

A green field, in the bosom of hills, winds silent with its own blue stream. Here, "midst the waving of oaks, were the dwellings of kings of old." But silence, for many dark-brown years, had settled in grassy Rath-col; for the race of heroes had failed along the pleasant vale. Duth-carmor was here, with his people, dark rider of the wave! Ton-thena had hid her head in the sky. He bound his white-bosomed sails. His course is on the hills of Rath-col to the seats of roes. We came. I sent the bard, with songs, to call the foe to fight. Duth-carmor heard him with joy. The king's soul was like a beam of fire; a beam of fire, marked with smoke, rushing, varied through the bosom of night. The deeds of Duth-carmor were dark, though his arm was strong.

Night came with the gathering of clouds. By the beam of the oak we sat down. At a distance stood Cathlin of Clutha. I saw the changeful soul of the stranger. As shadows fly over the field of grass, so various is Cathlin's cheek. It was fair within locks, that rose on Rath-col's wind. I did not rush, amidst his soul, with my words. I bade the song to rise.

"Oscar of Lego," I said, "be thine the secret hill to-night. Strike the shield like Morven's kings. With day thou shalt lead in war. From my rock I shall see thee, Oscar, a dreadful form ascending in fight, like the appearance of ghosts amidst the storms they raise. Why should mine eyes return to the dim times of old, ere yet the song had bursted forth, like the sudden rising of winds? But the years that are past are marked with mighty deeds. As the nightly rider of waves looks up to Ton-thena of beams, so let us turn our eyes to Trenmor the father of kings."

"Wide, in Caracha's echoing field, Carmal had poured his tribes. They were a dark ridge of waves. The gray-haired bards were like moving foam on their face. They kindle the strife around with their red-rolling eyes. Nor alone were the dwellers of rocks; a son of Loda was there, a voice in his own dark land, to call the ghosts from high. On his hill he had dwelt in Lochlin, in the midst of a leafless grove. Five stones lifted near their heads. Loud roared his rushing stream. He often raised his voice to the winds, when meteors marked their nightly wings, when the dark-robed moon was rolled behind her hill. Nor unheard of ghosts was he! They came with the sound of eagle-wings. They turned battle, in fields, before the kings of men.

" But Trenmor they turned not from battle. He drew forward that troubled war: in its dark skirt was Trathal, like a rising light. It was dark, and Loda's son poured forth his signs on night. The feeble were not before thee, son of other lands! Then rose the strife of kings about the hill of night; but it was soft as two summer gales, shaking their light wings on a lake. Trenmor yielded to his son, for the fame of the king had been heard. Trathal came forth before his father, and the foes failed in echoing Caracha. The years that are past, my son, are marked with mighty deeds."

In clouds rose the eastern light. The foe came forth in arms. The strife is mixed on Rath-col, like the roar of streams. Behold the contending of kings! They meet beside the oak. In gleams of steel the dark forms are lost; such is the meeting of meteors in a vale by night: red light is scattered round, and men foresee the storm! — Duth-carmor is low in blood! The son of Ossian overcame! Not harmless, in battle, was he, Malvina, hand of harps!

Nor, in the field, were the steps of Cathlin. The strangers stood by secret stream, where the foam of Rath-col skirted the mossy stones. Above bends the branchy birch, and strews its leaves on wind. The inverted spear of Cathlin touched at times the stream. Oscar brought Duth-carmor's mail: his helmet with its eagle-wing. He placed them before the stranger, and his words were heard. " The foes of thy father have fallen. They are laid in the field of ghosts. Renown returns to Morven like a rising wind. Why art thou dark, chief of Clutha? Is there cause for grief?"

" Son of Ossian of harps, my soul is darkly sad. I behold the arms of Cathmol, which lie raised in war. Take the mail of Cathlin, place it high in Selma's hall, that thou mayest remember the hapless in thy distant land." From white breasts descended the mail. It was the race of kings: the soft-handed daughter of Cathmol, at the streams of Clutha! Duth-carmor saw her bright in the hall; he had come by night to Clutha. Cathmol met him in battle, but the hero fell. Three days dwelt the foe with the maid. On the fourth she fled in arms. She remembered the race of kings, and felt her bursting soul!

Why, maid of Toscar of Lutha, should I tell how Cathlin failed? Her tomb is at rushy Lumon, in a distant land. Near it were the steps of Sul-malla, in the days of grief. She raised the song for the daughter of strangers, and touched the mournful harp.

Come from the watching of night, Malvina, lonely beam!

poem by James Macpherson
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New Millenium Homes

Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as the wheat grows strong
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as they reach for the dawn
Tha spirit of jackson
Now screams through tha ruins
Through factory chainsand tha ghost of tha union
Forgotten remains
Disappear to their new homes
Tha knife tha thrust
Tha life burns to the raw bone
Tha blood on the floor of the tear is still dryin
Cover the spread sheets
Tha dow jones skyin
Cell block live stock
Tha bodies their buyin
Old south order
New northern horizon
Violence in all hands
Embrace it if need be
(violence in all hands, embrace it if need be)
Livin been warfare
I press it to cd
(livin been warfare, I press it to cd)
Violence in all hands
Embrace it if need be
(violence in all hands, embrace it if need be)
Livin been warfare
I press it to cd
(livin been warfare, I press it to cd)
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
A fire in the masters house is set
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as the wheat grows strong
Hungry people dont stay hungry for long
They get hope from fire and smoke as they reach for the dawn
Yo, yo
Check tha high tech terror
Yes tha new order athletes
Peer into tha eyes of tha child already on trial
Armies rippin families apart
Get em on file
Convictions fit tha stock profile
All tha while films of dogs
Cutting through homes
Ripping skin from bones
Yes tha new millennium homes
Privatizing through private eyes

[...] Read more

song performed by Rage Against The Machine
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What Is The 'Orthodox' Difference

There is too much hypocrisy expressed,
In religion.
Too much division in it too...
For it to go unobserved.

The existence of 'Christianity'
Is based upon concepts created by the 'Jews'.
And there seems to be a conflict of interests...
When folks of ignorance slander, demean and smear,
Like they do!

Especially when people uphold beliefs,
Similar in nature.
And said to establish foundations...
That are firm in culture, heritage and customs
As solid as concrete!

And who doesn't know concrete eventually crumbles?

What is the 'orthodox' difference...
When Catholics and Jews conduct familiar rituals?
Wear kippahs (yalmulkes) to dentify their strong ties.
Keep people of color submissive and dismissed.
With racist overtones they claim do not exist!
Yet this clearly sits,
To acknowledge those who are hypocrites

There is too much hypocrisy expressed,
In religion.
Too much division in it too...
For it to go unobserved.

NOTE:

Judaism (from the Greek Ioudaïsmos, derived from the Hebrew י ה ו ד ה , Yehudah, 'Judah';
[1] in Hebrew: י ַ ה ֲ ד ו ּ ת , Yahedut, the distinctive characteristics of the Judean ethnos)
[2] is a set of beliefs and practices originating in the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh) ,
as later further explored and explained in the Talmud and other texts.
Judaism presents itself as the covenantal relationship between the Children of Israel
(later, the Jewish nation) and God.

It is considered either the first or one of the first monotheistic religions,
and is among the oldest religions still being practised today.
Many of its texts and traditions are central to the other Abrahamic religions,
with Jewish history and the principles and ethics of Judaism having influenced Christianity and Islam,
as well as some non-Abrahamic religions.
As the foundation of Western Christianity,
many aspects of Judaism also correspond to secular Western concepts of ethics and civil law.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The King of the Vasse

A LEGEND OF THE BUSH.

MY tale which I have brought is of a time
Ere that fair Southern land was stained with crime,
Brought thitherward in reeking ships and cast
Like blight upon the coast, or like a blast
From angry levin on a fair young tree,
That stands thenceforth a piteous sight to see.
So lives this land to-day beneath the sun,—
A weltering plague-spot, where the hot tears run,
And hearts to ashes turn, and souls are dried
Like empty kilns where hopes have parched and died.
Woe's cloak is round her,—she the fairest shore
In all the Southern Ocean o'er and o'er.
Poor Cinderella! she must bide her woe,
Because an elder sister wills it so.
Ah! could that sister see the future day
When her own wealth and strength are shorn away,
A.nd she, lone mother then, puts forth her hand
To rest on kindred blood in that far land;
Could she but see that kin deny her claim
Because of nothing owing her but shame,—
Then might she learn 'tis building but to fall,
If carted rubble be the basement-wall.

But this my tale, if tale it be, begins
Before the young land saw the old land's sins
Sail up the orient ocean, like a cloud
Far-blown, and widening as it neared,—a shroud
Fate-sent to wrap the bier of all things pure,
And mark the leper-land while stains endure.
In the far days, the few who sought the West
Were men all guileless, in adventurous quest
Of lands to feed their flocks and raise their grain,
And help them live their lives with less of pain
Than crowded Europe lets her children know.
From their old homesteads did they seaward go,
As if in Nature's order men must flee
As flow the streams,—from inlands to the sea.

In that far time, from out a Northern land,
With home-ties severed, went a numerous band
Of men and wives and children, white-haired folk:
Whose humble hope of rest at home had broke,
As year was piled on year, and still their toil
Had wrung poor fee from -Sweden's rugged soil.
One day there gathered from the neighboring steads,
In Jacob Eibsen's, five strong household heads,—
Five men large-limbed and sinewed, Jacob's sons,

[...] Read more

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Balin and Balan

Pellam the King, who held and lost with Lot
In that first war, and had his realm restored
But rendered tributary, failed of late
To send his tribute; wherefore Arthur called
His treasurer, one of many years, and spake,
'Go thou with him and him and bring it to us,
Lest we should set one truer on his throne.
Man's word is God in man.'
His Baron said
'We go but harken: there be two strange knights

Who sit near Camelot at a fountain-side,
A mile beneath the forest, challenging
And overthrowing every knight who comes.
Wilt thou I undertake them as we pass,
And send them to thee?'
Arthur laughed upon him.
'Old friend, too old to be so young, depart,
Delay not thou for aught, but let them sit,
Until they find a lustier than themselves.'

So these departed. Early, one fair dawn,
The light-winged spirit of his youth returned
On Arthur's heart; he armed himself and went,
So coming to the fountain-side beheld
Balin and Balan sitting statuelike,
Brethren, to right and left the spring, that down,
From underneath a plume of lady-fern,
Sang, and the sand danced at the bottom of it.
And on the right of Balin Balin's horse
Was fast beside an alder, on the left
Of Balan Balan's near a poplartree.
'Fair Sirs,' said Arthur, 'wherefore sit ye here?'
Balin and Balan answered 'For the sake
Of glory; we be mightier men than all
In Arthur's court; that also have we proved;
For whatsoever knight against us came
Or I or he have easily overthrown.'
'I too,' said Arthur, 'am of Arthur's hall,
But rather proven in his Paynim wars
Than famous jousts; but see, or proven or not,
Whether me likewise ye can overthrow.'
And Arthur lightly smote the brethren down,
And lightly so returned, and no man knew.

Then Balin rose, and Balan, and beside
The carolling water set themselves again,
And spake no word until the shadow turned;
When from the fringe of coppice round them burst
A spangled pursuivant, and crying 'Sirs,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Marked With Death

How can I bear this? show me
How can I survive
Trapped in your madness
With no hope of release? oh -
Do I just wait for
Your demons to arrive?
Blaming me for your ills
While you rest in peace
You are marked with death
By your cruel lies
You deserve all this
You betrayed me
With your final breath
You will still despise
Every tear or kiss
You betrayed me
I shall not be tricked
Into pity for
You must know full well
That I love you
And you cant inflict
Any pain thats more
Than this living hell
But I love you
I see the eyes that deceived
Poor wasted hands growing cold
No lovers comfort
No belief to hold
You have killed yourself
Yours the infernal
Original sin
Mine the misfortune
Of your heartless caprice - oh -
Do I just wait for
All your devils to move in?
Blaming me for your death
While you rest in peace
I am marked for life
And the peace I crave
Is a fools conceit
I am branded
And youll twist the knife
From beyond the grave
And I fall, retreat
Empty handed
I shall not be tricked
Into pity for
You must know full well
That I love you
And you cant inflict

[...] Read more

song performed by Cliff Richard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Marked With Death

(tim rice/john farrar)
How can I bear this?
Show me
How can I survive
Trapped in the madness
With no hope of release? oh
Do I just wait for
Your demons to arrive?
Blaming me for your death
While you rest in peace
You are marked with death
By your cruel lies
You deserve all this
You betrayed me
With your final breath
You will still despise
Every tear or kiss
You betrayed me
I shall not be tricked
Into pity for
You must know full well
That I love you
And you cant inflict
Any pain thats more
Than this living hell
But I love you
I see the eyes that deceived
Poor wasted hands growing cold
No lovers comfort
No belief to hold
You have killed yourself
Yours the infernal
Original sin
Mine the misfortune
Of your heartless caprice-- oh
Do I just wait for
Your devils to move in?
Blaming me for your death
While you rest in peace
I am marked for life
And the peace I crave
Is a fools conceit
I am branded
And youll twist the knife
From beyond the grave
And I fall, retreat
Empty handed
I shall not be tricked
Into pity for
You must know full well

[...] Read more

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Masterman Sonata

The world was made for us
And we belong in this world
But this world is very violente today
And to tell you the truth I don't even know if the violence in this world will End
But I have the feeling that we will never be able to live in a world without Violence because the only thing we know is violence
And we never learned anything else than violence
But I believe some enjoy the violence and they welcome the violence Into their lives

poem by Aldo Kraas
Added by Poetry Lover
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Violence And Bloodshed

Civilization crumblin' fast
End the world with a blast
People afraid walking the streets
Scums have their day
'Til they run into me

Are you ready?

Livin' in fear ain't livin' to me
I'am armed with a gun defending the free
They blew it in Nam shot up my friends
I'm back in the streets the fight never ends

I was born with a gun in my hand
I'll die for my country
But I'll die like a man
Violence and Bloodsheed
Violence and Bloodsheed
Violence and Bloodsheed

Now we're back to animal law
The payback's a bitch and I'm paying all
All my life I been waitin'to see
Who's gonna win crumbs or me

Are you ready

My brother's still in Da-Nang
Puttin'an ad in the back of Kerrang
I'm looking for people who just wanna kill
We'll go back the Nam cause no one else will

Land of the free
Home of the brave
Now that's how it is
And that's how it stays

Violence and Bloodsheed
Violence and Bloodsheed
Violence and Bloodsheed

song performed by Manowar from Fighting The World
Added by Lucian Velea
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With A Wish To Get A Bigger Bang

Boom, boom, boom.
Children listening to their videos.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With the sound plugged in their ears.
And boom, boom, boom.
Violence is for them addicting,
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.

Boom, boom, boom.
Children listening to their videos.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.

Spilling blood and guts are nothing,
To the kids who love it much.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.

It's a thrill for them to see somebody getting killed,
And...
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
And for them it's nothing but a game.

Boom, boom, boom.
Children listening to their videos.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With the sound plugged in their ears.
And boom, boom, boom.
Violence is for them addicting,
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom, boom, boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Violence is for them addicting,
And it's nothing but a game.
Boom, boom, boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Violence is for them addicting,
And it's nothing but a game.
Boom, boom, boom...
A game addicting and insane!

Violence is for them addicting,
And it's nothing but a game.
Boom, boom, boom...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Added by Poetry Lover
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Beast Of Field

“Do unto others, as you would
have, others do unto thee.”

Praise be to Allah.
Praise be to Jah.
I would I could ascend
free of this world of men.

Suddenly if humanity started living
in accordance with Divine Laws.
Humanities’ problems would dissolve
like snow under summer sun.

Humanity must achieve
conceptional spiritual massed transition.
Instead of fever creating doomsday
weapons. Designed to indifferently
dispense diabolical death.

Fault designed commercial machines
spare part increase corporal margins
false deceit gain fever sacred profits
amassed by wealthy rich industrialists.

Knowledge must serve faithfully
not rent repulsively deceitfully destroy.
Serve humankind entire race family
not self serving ego miser philosophy.

Engineered by hoard cretin manipulators
who manufacture profit epidemic war.

We must strive endeavour earnestly,
to truly try solving technological
nightmares; capitalist communist
religionist; insanity craving gravity
greed created poverty inequality.

To blame God for global problems,
generated by exploitative human
greed deceit; is childishly ridiculous.

Power coveted lusts; depravity initiated
by misguided; callous crazed human
beings; were sick source stagnant cause.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Selective Belief: Rewriting The Bible

The twentieth century
witnessed the rise
of a new phenomenom
in Western Nations
across the world.

The strange case
of selective belief,
rewriting the Bible.

Belief read like a roll
of declining acceptability
for these creators
of their own personalized
selective belief system.

Yes we believe in God,
a personal creator, the majority!

But not Satan the Devil,
we choose not to believe in him?

Belief in God, Satan, but not demons?
No we choose not to believe in
demons – they are not real?

Miracles no. They never happened?

Some self professing
so called Christians;
rewrote the whole Bible,
removing all miracles!

Of course not much
of the Divine nature;
of Almighty God Jesus,
the Holy Spirit is left!

After calling both
God and Jesus liars!

(these Bible rewriters read?
their blasphemy bible
miracle stripped.)

All Abrahmic religions;
the world’s three primary,
monotheistic faiths

Judaism Christianity Islam;

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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