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Voting is a civic sacrament.

quote by Theodore Hesburgh
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Sacrament

I hear you breathe so far from here
I feel your touch so close and real
And I know
My church is not of silver and gold,
It's glory lies beyond judgement of souls
The commandments are of consolation and warmth
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
I hear you weep so far from here
I taste your tears like you're next to me
And I know
my weak prayers are not enough to heal
The ancient wounds so deep and so dear
The revelation is of hatred and fear
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Sacrament

I hear you breathe so far from me
I feel your touch so close and real
And I know
My church is not of silver and gold,
Its glory lies beyond judgement of souls
The commandments are of consolation oh
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
I hear you weep so far from me
I taste your tears like youre next to me
And I know
That our prayers are not enough to give
Oh the ancient runes so deep and so dear
The revelation is our patron fear
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you

song performed by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Adrienne Vittadini

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Aldermen and Antirrhinum

I walked out with an alderman, all on a bright spring day.
He was an august alderman, and much had he to say
Of roads and drains and bridges .... Then, as he pulled up short,
His veins stood out in ridges, his breath fled with a snort.
Then anger aldermanic came as the tempest comes;
His aspect grew satanic, his eyes stuck out like plums;
And, as it rent asunder the ambient atmosphere,
Rolled detonating thunder of civic wrath severe:

'Tear down them antirrhium! Tear down them columbine!
Or else, by gum, we'll fine 'em. We'll mulct in a fine!
I won't have antirrhinum! To Tophet I consign 'em!
Surveyors can't align 'em plumb with our buildin' line!'
(They were begonias truly; but that did not unduly
Affect his wrath unruly. The darn things weren't in line.)
'A blot on civic beauty! The Mayor must do his jooty,
An' have them antirrhinum abolished, or resign!'

Then, as his rage he swallowed, and joined the traffic's stream,
I diffidently followed, and sought to change the theme.
'Think you the vernal season,' quoth I, 'grows subtly sweet?'
Said he: 'That ain't no reason for shovin' in the street
Them bloomin' antirrhinum three inches off the line.
Our officers must fine 'em. It's breakin' Bylaw nine,
Part seven. Schedule thirty. Clause eight in Section A.'
He really seemed quite shirty; and so I sneaked away.)

But still, o'er traffic crashes, I heard his strident tones
'Them antirrhinum clashes with our pretty safety zones!
Calliopsis an' eschscholtzia! In streets where soft trams roll!
It's a pitcher that revolts yeh, if yeh got a civic soul! . . .'
And then his fuming faded; faint and far it died away.
'Pon my word, I felt quite jaded; I'd had a trying day.
And, tho' it seem splenetic, from this truth I may not shrink
Aldermen are NOT aesthetic. Not so very - do you think?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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St. Peter Julian Eymard, ‘The Apostle of the Eucharist’

Founder, Societas Sanctissimi Sacramenti (SSS)
And Third Order of Mary (Feb 4,1811- Aug 1,1868)

The saint exhorted:

‘Go set the world afire,
For love of Eucharist!
Adore the Lord Jesus
In the Blessed Sacrament.’

‘Glorify God always;
Let Eucharist reign world;
Go often to Jesus,
Alive in Eucharist.’

‘The Holy Eucharist
Is the fountain of life;
Receive the Lord Jesus,
Often into your heart! ’

The cross appeared before mind’s eyes,
And beckoned him to follow it;
‘Give up all worldly, carnal ties, ’
Said Jesus Christ. ‘Follow, grace-lit! ’

The call was loud and clarion;
The Lord had plans for Julian;
There was never much confusion;
God gave him divine fore-vision!

The teenager from country France
Was born when dawned art, music, dance;
His poor physique and poverty,
Delayed life in Seminary.

He tried again when twenty-three,
And was ordained a priest at last;
For the Grenoble Diocese;
His service done became too vast.

Eymard believed in confession,
Repentance and reparation;
This was the soul’s preparation,
For a life of Lord’s adoration.

The spirit grows stronger in Christ,
With frequent communion athirst;
The Marist years made him good priest;
His love of Jesus never ceased.

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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William and Helen

I.
From heavy dreams fair Helen rose,
And eyed the dawning red:
'Alas, my love, thou tarriest long!
O art thou false or dead?'-

II.
With gallant Fred'rick's princely power
He sought the bold Crusade;
But not a word from Judah's wars
Told Helen how he sped.

III.
With Paynim and with Saracen
At length a truce was made,
And every knight return'd to dry
The tears his love had shed.

IV.
Our gallant host was homeward bound
With many a song of joy;
Green waved the laurel in each plume,
The badge of victory.

V.
And old and young, and sire and son,
To meet them crowd the way,
With shouts, and mirth, and melody,
The debt of love to pay.

VI.
Full many a maid her true-love met,
And sobb'd in his embrace,
And flutt'ring joy in tears and smiles
Array'd full many a face.

VII.
Nor joy nor smile for Helen sad
She sought the host in vain;
For none could tell her William's fate,
In faithless, or if slain.

VIII.
The martial band is past and gone;
She rends her raven hair,
And in distraction's bitter mood
She weeps with wild despair.

IX.
'O rise, my child,' her mother said,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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A Ballad, Shewing How An Old Woman Rode Double, And Who Rode Before Her

The Raven croak'd as she sate at her meal,
And the Old Woman knew what he said,
And she grew pale at the Raven's tale,
And sicken'd and went to her bed.

Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with speed,
The Old Woman of Berkeley said,
The monk my son, and my daughter the nun
Bid them hasten or I shall be dead.

The monk her son, and her daughter the nun,
Their way to Berkeley went,
And they have brought with pious thought
The holy sacrament.

The old Woman shriek'd as they entered her door,
'Twas fearful her shrieks to hear,
Now take the sacrament away
For mercy, my children dear!

Her lip it trembled with agony,
The sweat ran down her brow,
I have tortures in store for evermore,
Oh! spare me my children now!

Away they sent the sacrament,
The fit it left her weak,
She look'd at her children with ghastly eyes
And faintly struggled to speak.

All kind of sin I have rioted in
And the judgment now must be,
But I secured my childrens souls,
Oh! pray my children for me.

I have suck'd the breath of sleeping babes,
The fiends have been my slaves,
I have nointed myself with infants fat,
And feasted on rifled graves.

And the fiend will fetch me now in fire
My witchcrafts to atone,
And I who have rifled the dead man's grave
Shall never have rest in my own.

Bless I intreat my winding sheet
My children I beg of you!
And with holy water sprinkle my shroud
And sprinkle my coffin too.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Southey
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Aunt Chloe

.
I remember, well remember,
.
That dark and dreadful day,
.
When they whispered to me, "Chloe,
.
Your children's sold away!" 1.
It seemed as if a bullet
.
Had shot me through and through,
.
And I felt as if my heart-strings
.
Was breaking right in two. 1.
And I says to cousin Milly,
.

"There must be some mistake;
.

Where's Mistus?" "In the great house crying --
.

Crying like her heart would break. 1.

"And the lawyer's there with Mistus;
.

Says he's come to 'ministrate,
.

'Cause when master died he just left
.

Heap of debt on the estate. 1.

"And I thought 'twould do you good
.

To bid your boys good-bye --
.

To kiss them both and shake their hands,
.

And have a hearty cry. 1.

"Oh! Chloe, I knows how you feel,
.

[...] Read more

poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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We Can Create A Modern International Community

And I wonder when Congress will allow public nationwide schools...
in the United States to set aside time for children again to pray?
To pray for, or quietly reflect on behalf of, their once great Nation!

To pray for their nation during this proclaimed danger time...
of struggle against the forces of evil dark international terrorism!
But in the White House lurks a dark soul of 100% fetus murder!

Barack against murder international terrorism with Pro-Abortion Record!
Like Pharaoh in the time of the birth of Moses, like King Harold at the birth of Jesus, killing innocent children based on state law is ok in America today!

Why? How can this be? On 9th of March 2008 Barack proclaimed “We were once were, we are no longer a Christian nation, at least not just....”
No Ten Commandments, No God’s law displayed in government buildings!

15th April 2009 Barack proclaimed “We can create a modern international community that is respectful that is secure that is prosperous....
(in an aside to himself) and like Baal Worshippers we will support propagate

State Policies funding killing innocent children against the will of the majority of Americans and I Barack will use tax payer dollars to kill innocent unborn! We will fill White House high office with Pro Abortion all! Yes We Can!

Darth Vader will create a universal New World Order!

And in the on going baby killing sweepstakes infant killer Obama selects: -

Pro-Abortion Sen. Joe Biden as Obama’s vice-presidential running mate. Pro-Abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as Obama’s White House Chief of Staff.
Pro-Abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as Obama’s Health and Human Services Secretary.

Former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of Obama’s Department of Justice Review Team. Next appointed Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel.

Betta check Obama’s rap sheet Pro-Abortion Record, for the rest of his all star elite baby killing machine selections.

'President Barack Obama's Pro-Abortion Record: A Pro-Life Compilation

Washington, DC (LifeNews.com) - The following is a compilation of bill signings, speeches, appointments and other actions that President Barack Obama has engaged in that have promoted abortion before and during his presidency. While Obama has promised to reduce abortions and some of his supporters believe that will happen, this long list proves his only agenda is promoting more abortions.

During the presidential election, Obama selected pro-abortion Sen. Joe Biden as his vice-presidential running mate.

Post-Election / Pre-Inauguration
November 5,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as his White House Chief of Staff. Emanuel has a 0% pro-life voting record according to National Right to Life.

November 19,2008 - Obama picks pro-abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as his Health and Human Services Secretary. Daschle has a long pro-abortion voting record according to National Right to Life.

November 20,2008 - Obama chooses former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of his Department of Justice Review Team. Later, he finalizes her appointment as the Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel in the Obama administration.

November 24,2008 - Obama appoints Ellen Moran, the former director of the pro-abortion group Emily's List as his White House communications director. Emily's List only supports candidates who favored taxpayer funded abortions and opposed a partial-birth abortion ban.

November 24,2008 - Obama puts former Emily's List board member Melody Barnes in place as his director of the Domestic Policy Council.

November 30,2008 - Obama named pro-abortion Sen. Hillary Clinton as the Secretary of State. Clinton has an unblemished pro-abortion voting record and has supported making unlimited abortions an international right.

December 10,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion former Clinton administration official Jeanne Lambrew to become the deputy director of the White House Office of Health Reform. Planned Parenthood is 'excited' about the selection.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Poor Give To The Wrong Type Power

The poor so sad to say do not see far
They vote for one who drives expensive car
And one they don't see after voting day
From where they live he lives long miles away.

The poor don't ever seem to understand
That they vote for one who for them little care
To one greedy individual they give power
And when they need him he is never there.

Who is this person the poor voted for
He lives in a big house leads the high life
And you won't see him in a second hand shop
When he is buying a present for his wife.

The poor to the wrong type always give power
And they make the worst choices on voting day
They ought to vote for one of their own kind
And for mistakes made there is a price to pay.

The poor give to the wrong type of person power
To greedy individual they give all the say
On voting day the wrong choices they make
And what little power they have they give away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Civic education and civic responsibility should be taught in elementary school.

quote by Donna Brazile
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Triumph of Love

I

Sun-blazed, over Romsley, a livid rain-scarp.

XIII

Whose lives are hidden in God? Whose?
Who can now tell what was taken, or where,
or how, or whether it was received:
how ditched, divested, clamped, sifted, over-
laid, raked over, grassed over, spread around,
rotted down with leafmould, accepted
as civic concrete, reinforceable
base cinderblocks:
tipped into Danube, Rhine, Vistula, dredged up
with the Baltic and the Pontic sludge:
committed in absentia to solemn elevation,
Trauermusik, musique funèbre, funeral
music, for male and female
voices ringingly a cappella,
made for double string choirs, congregated brass,
choice performers on baroque trumpets hefting,
like glassblowers, inventions
of supreme order?

XIV

As to bad faith, Malebranche might argue
it rests with inattention. Stupidity
is not admissible. However, the status
of apprehension remains at issue.
Some qualities are best
left unrecognized. Needless to say,
unrecognized is not
unacknowledged. Unnamed is not nameless.

XVII

If the gospel is heard, all else follows:
the scattering, the diaspora,
the shtetlach, ash pits, pits of indigo dye.
Penitence can be spoken of, it is said,
but is itself beyond words;
even broken speech presumes. Those Christian Jews
of the first Church, huddled sabbath-survivors,
keepers of the word; silent, inside twenty years,
doubly outcast: even so I would remember—
the scattering, the diaspora.
We do not know the saints.
His mercy is greater even than his wisdom.

[...] Read more

poem by Geoffrey Hill
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A Civic Holiday Trip

Lines on a civic holiday trip on the Grand Trunk,
to Toronto, August, 1882. Address to Mr. Hodge,
conductor of Caledonian games at Ingersoll.

From Ingersoll, on Canadian Thames,
We come to greet mine host of the St. James,
This being our town's civic holiday ;
Yet we remember twenty-fourth of May,
For then at our Caledonian games
He did loud proclaim the victors' names .
We came in part to contribute
To our town's mechanics' institute,
Who got up this grand excursion
Where each one has his own diversion.
Some did remain at Burlington Bay,
While we to Toronto did wend our way,
And came to see this presentation
To stalwart son of Scottish nation.

poem by James McIntyre
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Q & A POETRY in THE CHanginG ZoNe: one sided answer

Dear Mark Magnier(LA TIMES) ,

if you have any questions about poetry and others I am ready to take it.nice to meet you, too.

I told you about 'I' existence in collaboration process but the question is that in the place of what others things should be constructed? I am thinking of it when you went back.In the place of 'Big I', we should construct the followings,:
1) educational awareness
2) reflection on quotidian experiences in terms of democrative values
3) institutional build-ups in civic society
4) respect each other leading to peace and stability of the space-interactions
5) the still useful aesthetics: the good, the bad and the ugly points in current situations
6) 6) unpopular wisdom but very effective for the change in the civic or open society
best,
nyein way

poem by Nyein Way
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Trash Bag

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Our identity as a nation — unlike many other nations — is not determined by geography or ethnicity, by soil or blood. Being an American involves the embrace of high ideals and civic responsibility. We become the heirs of Thomas Jefferson by accepting the ideal of human dignity found in the Declaration of Independence. We become the heirs of James Madison by understanding the genius and values of the U.S. Constitution. We become the heirs of Martin Luther King, Jr., by recognizing one another not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. This means that people of every race, religion, and ethnicity can be fully and equally American. It means that bigotry or white supremacy in any form is blasphemy against the American creed. And it means that the very identity of our nation depends on the passing of civic ideals to the next generation.

quote by George W. Bush
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Ode to Captain Paery

'By the North Pole, I do challenge thee!'
From 'Love's Labour's Lost.'

I

Paery, my man! has thy brave leg
Yet struck its foot against the peg
On which the world is spun?
Or hast thou found No Thoroughfare
Writ by the hand of Nature there
Where man has never run!

II

Hast thou yet traced the Great Unknown
Of channels in the Frozen Zone,
Or held at Icy Bay,
Hast thou still miss'd the proper track
For homeward Indian men that lack
A bracing by the way?

III

Still hast thou wasted toil and trouble
On nothing but the North-Sea Bubble
Of geographic scholar?
Or found new ways for ships to shape,
Instead of winding round the Cape,
A short cut thro' the collar?

IV

Hast found the way that sighs were sent to
The Pole—tho' God knows whom they went to!
That track reveal'd to Pope—
Or if the Arctic waters sally,
Or terminate in some blind alley,
A chilly path to grope?

V

Alas! tho' Ross, in love with snows,
Has painted them couleur de rose,
It is a dismal doom,
As Clauclio saith, to Winter thrice,

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Hood
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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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I very much feel that marriage is a sacrament and that sacrament should extend... to that legal entity of a union between what traditionally in our Western values has been defined as between a man and a woman.

quote by Bill Frist
Added by Lucian Velea
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