Reflection On A Wicked World
Purity
Is obscurity.
poem by Ogden Nash
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My Obscurity
My life works hard around obscurity it orders my life
My life is a blessing it defines obscurity in my life
Would there be no obscurity there’d be no life
There’d be no me there’d be no exhilaration
Fretfulness, absorption, anticipation love to lust, lust to love
life to death, death to life pain to hurt, hurt to misery
It’s all a obscurity creativeness, endowment and talent
To my poetic life what would there be a obscurity
poem by Dr Shamim ali
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Dead Man Walkin' (East Enders)
I've been here before - this is where my fingers slipped into yours
This is where I trembled - when you touched mine
This is where the seeds we planted long ago
Grew up to tell us we're too old to know
I've been here before - this is where the novelty starts wearing off, wearing off, wearing off
And all the world's a stage - it's just that I ain't on it anymore, anymore
This ain't Eastenders, this ain't Eastenders, this ain't Eastenders, it's the real thing
What am I supposed to do now?
Crawl down the hole of monotony - monotony - monotony - monotony
The silence is deafening - the phone never rings
Won't somebody help me cos - I feel like I'm drowning
If I should sink - if I should swim
It doesn't really matter anymore - Dead man walkin'
I've been meaning to tell you for oh so long
Baby you got it right 'n I got it wrong
Now I know what ageism means - you gotta try a little harder
you gotta be a little stronger
I've been here before - this is where nothing happens anymore, anymore, anymore,
Someone else's rage - someone else's pain
Someone else's ego - you will believe, you will believe
This ain't Eastenders, this ain't Eastenders, this ain't Eastenders, it's the real thing
What am I supposed to do now?
Sink to the bottom of obscurity, obscurity, obscurity, obscurity
It's a foregone conclusion - a fait accompli
It's all taken care of - you don't have to worry
If I should lose - If I should win
It doesn't really matter anymore - Dead man walkin'
song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Loves of the Angels
'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.
Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!
One evening, in that primal hour,
On a hill's side where hung the ray
Of sunset brightening rill and bower,
Three noble youths conversing lay;
And, as they lookt from time to time
To the far sky where Daylight furled
His radiant wing, their brows sublime
Bespoke them of that distant world-
Spirits who once in brotherhood
Of faith and bliss near ALLA stood,
And o'er whose cheeks full oft had blown
The wind that breathes from ALLA'S throne,
Creatures of light such as still play,
Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
And thro' their infinite array
Transmit each moment, night and day,
The echo of His luminous word!
Of Heaven they spoke and, still more oft,
Of the bright eyes that charmed them thence;
Till yielding gradual to the soft
And balmy evening's influence-
The silent breathing of the flowers-
The melting light that beamed above,
As on their first, fond, erring hours,-
Each told the story of his love,
The history of that hour unblest,
When like a bird from its high nest
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Ancient Banner
In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
A servant's form, though he had reigned a king,
In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,
Or the creating words, 'Let there be light'
In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,
His Deity and his Omnipotence,
Were manifest in miracles. Disease
Fled at his bidding, and the buried dead
Rose from the sepulchre, reanimate,
At his command, or, on the passing bier
Sat upright, when he touched it. But he came,
Not for this only, but to introduce
A glorious dispensation, in the place
Of types and shadows of the Jewish code.
Upon the mount, and round Jerusalem,
He taught a purer, and a holier law,—
His everlasting Gospel, which is yet
To fill the earth with gladness; for all climes
Shall feel its influence, and shall own its power.
He came to suffer, as a sacrifice
Acceptable to God. The sins of all
Were laid upon Him, when in agony
He bowed upon the cross. The temple's veil
Was rent asunder, and the mighty rocks,
Trembled, as the incarnate Deity,
By his atoning blood, opened that door,
Through which the soul, can have communion with
Its great Creator; and when purified,
From all defilements, find acceptance too,
Where it can finally partake of all
The joys of His salvation.
But the pure Church he planted,—the pure Church
Which his apostles watered,—and for which,
The blood of countless martyrs freely flowed,
In Roman Amphitheatres,—on racks,—
And in the dungeon's gloom,—this blessed Church,
Which grew in suffering, when it overspread
Surrounding nations, lost its purity.
Its truth was hidden, and its light obscured
By gross corruption, and idolatry.
As things of worship, it had images,
And even painted canvas was adored.
It had a head and bishop, but this head
Was not the Saviour, but the Pope of Rome.
Religion was a traffic. Men defiled,
Professed to pardon sin, and even sell,
The joys of heaven for money,—and to raise
Souls out of darkness to eternal light,
For paltry silver lavished upon them.
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Suicidal Idiocies for Life's Deficiencies
Suicide has such an overwhelmingly sadistic, succumbing seduction when pain seems so severly inevitable to treat or avoid its grip based on our abilities, or lack thereof, to not only recognize much more appealing emotions linked to suicide, but also to discipline the monitoring of our personal thoughts and actions into the seemingly impossible thoughts surrounding the actions of inspirational survival as well as the persevering passion for the ultimate recovery from such severly damaging excuses suicide attempts to create as a self-fulfilling validation for what a pathetic, worthless ambition it has been for you to have lived, to keep living, and to have ambition's true, authentic glory fulfilled only through the joyful, exuberant eternity given to us after death life could only dream about waking up to its never ceasing reality we can't even imagine its existence of until we are dead. In this contradicting sense of our battle between the reality realized every day we continue to live versus the extremely cumbersome, intensely overbearing obscurity of a death that is never realized its depth of reality until it has been finalized in only one day's actions, it seems like such a more profitable ambition to force death's one opportunity for the ultimate glory of your life to take a much more natural, healthier course of action that only life has numerous opportunities for not only securing the glory strengthened by living a life free from obscurity, but also securing the glory strengthened by a much more subdued, peaceful death leading to a much stronger sense of exuberant eternity suicide only seeks to destroy and severely downplay the significant worth of your life before and throughout all of your existing eternity. Live a great life rather than dying every day you could have been alive waiting for death's eventual obscurity validated through your willingness in living a highly fulfilling, significant life others will envy to imitate your life giving example in rejecting Suicidal Idiocies for Life's Deficiencies by indulging in Life's Unbelievably Potential Sufficiencies.
poem by Bill Darrah
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Ode to Memory
I.
THOU who stealest fire,
From the fountains of the past,
To glorify the present, oh, haste,
Visit my low desire!
Strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
II.
Come not as thou camest of late,
Flinging the gloom of yesternight
On the white day, but robed in soften’d light
Of orient state.
Whilome thou camest with the morning mist,
Even as a maid, whose stately brow
The dew-impearled winds of dawn have kiss’d,
When she, as thou,
Stays on her floating locks the lovely freight
Of overflowing blooms, and earliest shoots
Of orient green, giving safe pledge of fruits,
Which in wintertide shall star
The black earth with brilliance rare.
III.
Whilome thou camest with the morning mist,
And with the evening cloud,
Showering thy gleaned wealth into my open breast;
Those peerless flowers which in the rudest wind
Never grow sere,
When rooted in the garden of the mind,
Because they are the earliest of the year.
Nor was the night thy shroud.
In sweet dreams softer than unbroken rest
Thou leddest by the hand thine infant Hope.
The eddying of her garments caught from thee
The light of thy great presence; and the cope
Of the half-attain’d futurity,
Tho’ deep not fathomless,
Was cloven with the million stars which tremble
O’er the deep mind of dauntless infancy.
Small thought was there of life’s distress;
For sure she deem’d no mist of earth could dull
Those spirit-thrilling eyes so keen and beautiful;
Sure she was nigher to heaven’s spheres,
Listening the lordly music flowing from
The illimitable years.
O strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Blue
There you were on the floor
There you were on the floor
Cut up and all alone
Cut up and all alone
I'll help you
I'll help you
Conceived in a chrome dream I was a crease in the shirt that this world wears
Conceived in a chrome dream i was a crease in the shirt that this world wears
Till I met Blue
Till i met blue
I was in obscurity he said
I was in obscurity he said
'Loosen up who do you wanna be?'
"loosen up who do you wanna be?"
We could steal a car
And listen to the stars
We could steal a car
I can see you've choked on them too
And listen to the stars
Had enough of late night films
I can see you've choked on them too
Just enough for an hour or two
Had enough of late night films
Hey ,Blue, show me something new
Just enough for an hour or two
Hey, Blue, show me something new
Hey ,blue, show me something new
Hey, blue, show me something new
Blue, I've got a question every time I hold you
Yeah, Blue, I've got a question every time I swallow you it's true
Blue, i've got a question every time i hold you
Spike danced for 10 days long
Yeah, blue, i've got a question every time i swallow you it's true
We were just heading for the sun
You shot him down there's blood on my face
His heart's in the right place
Spike danced for 10 days long
What they gonna do to you
We were just heading for the sun
What they gonna do
You shot him down there's blood on my face
His heart's in the right place
Blue, don't forget the word I warned you
What they gonna do to you
Oh, Blue,don't let them push you
What they gonna do
Don't let them destroy you
Meanwhile, I'm searching with my brain-blown eyes
See the world through my dirty, lonely, mixed-up mind
Blue, don't forget the word i warned you
[...] Read more
song performed by Verve
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An Endless Deep Obscurity
All is one within the sky
As every bird is free
All is one within the eye
That allows us truth to see
All is blue within my heart
All is one in me
All is blue within my heart
An endless deep obscurity
All is one beneath the sun
All is one in me
All is light beneath the yoke
That allows us truth to see
All is one
One is truth
My truth is one in me
Still all is blue within my heart
An endless deep obscurity
Ride upon the midnight wave
Beyond the shade of mysteries tree
Seek the truth in unions kiss
Seek union to be free.
poem by David Lacey
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Looking
My frustration won't subside I've been tried time after time
but it's not my style to quit there is more to life than this
in obscurity or fame we're all playing in this game
searching for something searching for something
looking, looking, looking, you will find find you will be fine
Saturday in the morning and the rain kept falling
brother didn't get no sleep now he's really feeling beat
but there is no time to waste as the devil test his faith
he just walks away on a mission to complete
looking, looking, looking, you will find find you will be fine
looking oh find you will be fine
she has her hand on her jaw as she wonders away
what will tomorrow bring will her dreams just disappear
she find words are hard to say so she prays everyday
she must find a way may the pieces fall into place
frustration won't subside I've been tried time after time
but it's not my style to quit there is more to life than this
in obscurity or fame we're all playing in this game
searching for something searching for something
looking, looking, looking, you will find find you will be fine
looking, looking, looking, you will find find you will be fine
searching for something, looking for something
song performed by Ziggy Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Philosopher and the Philanthropist
Searching an infinite Where,
Probing a bottomless When,
Dreamfully wandering,
Ceaselessly pondering,
What is the Wherefore of men:
Bartering life for a There,
Selling his soul for a Then,
Baffling obscurity,
Conning futurity,
Usefulest, wisest of men!
Grasping the Present of Life,
Seizing a definite Now,
Labouring thornfully,
Banishing scornfully
Doubts of his Whither and How:
Spending his substance in Strife,
Working a practical How,
Letting obscurity
Rest on futurity,
Usefuler, wiser, I trow.
poem by James Kenneth Stephen
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A Ballad of Freedom
Now Mr. Jeremiah Bane
He owned a warehouse in The Lane,
An edifice of goodly size,
Where, with keen private enterprise,
He sold imported napery
And drapery - and drapery.
His singlets and his socks were sent
Out over half the continent;
In clothing for the nursery
And mercery - and mercery
He plied a most extensive trade,
And quite enormous prodfits made,
And barracked, with much fervency,
For foreign-trade - described as 'Free.'
He said,
Indeed,
It was
His creed.
The trade described as Free.
And this good man was known to fame
For charity; indeed, his name
Shone often in the daily press.
When needy folk were in distress
He aided - (with publicity)
Mendicity - mendicity.
And though much cash he thuswise spared
There still were people who declared
His act of private charity
A rarity - a rarity.
Donations, duly advertised,
From business point of view, he prized;
But 'good by stealth' he ne'er could see
Was any use to such as he.
But still,
The press,
With much
Success,
Declared his hand was free.
Now Mr. Bane's employees were
Wont to address the boss as 'Sir,'
To show him most intense respect;
And there were few who would neglect
To couple with civility
Humility - humility.
They dressed in cheap but pretty clothes,
And ev'ry man turned up his nose
And scorned familiarity
Or parity - or parity
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Eternity! Thy Time Is Young
Eternity! Thy time is young
Alike the kiss of serpent tongue
Your mother’s sleeping by the bay
Adorned in the last light of the day.
A lonely Oak hath fallen near
A nearby Satyr sheds a tear
Still he laughs on through the year
For he knows that death is life anew.
Through clouds of dank obscurity
The nature of reality
Is known to die and then to be
A circle of eternity
Love! For thy time is young
Love beneath a golden sun
Bless the meadows, blessed be
That I should find my love in thee
O maiden fair, O maiden dear
Hear my heart, my heart is clear
Through mists of dank obscurity
I adorn my love in clarity.
Beatific visions at first surreal
Reveal to me the way I feel
Turn within eternity
Turn within the wheel.
poem by David Lacey
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A Dirge of the Morning After
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE (wailing dismally):
'Who can deliver us, Lord of our destiny!
Out of the depths comes our passionate cry,
Wrung from the soul of us. Aid for the whole of us!
Tell us, we pray, that our succor is nigh.
'Where is the super-man? Where the deliverer?
Where is the Captain to win us relief
Surcease from sorrowing, respite from borrowing?
Oh, for a philtre to deaden our grief!'
ANXIOUS VOICE FROM RIGHT WING:
'Patience, 0 populace! Wait for a little while!
Labor shall succor you - cleave to your Jim!
James and the rest of them, sure, are the best of them
Jimmy, the agable, trust ye to him!
'Lo, from the Chosen lures he the capital.
Bright golden, capital! Glorious loans!
Millions and mill-i-ons! Soon 'twill be bill-i-ons!
Patience awhile till he floats 'em.' (Loud groans.)
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE (irritably):
'Jim? Oh, be d-d to him. Doors are all slammed to him
Cohen's and Isaac's and old Ikey Mo's.
We would live decently! Up the spout recently
He has shoved everything barring our clothes.
(Again dolefully)
'Who can deliver us? Is there no saviour?
Is there no Chief with a Will and a Plan?
Not in a city-full? Oh, it is pitiful!
The hour it is striking - but where is the man?'
VOICE FROM LEFT WING (eagerly)
'Cheer up, my countrymen! Here is your Gregory!
Long he!s been shut from the councils of State.
He'll banish care for you; he'll do and dare for you.
Wade is the captain to fashion your fate.
'Long was he languishing, sunk in obscurity;
Now his wise counsel the populace seeks.
He is the man for you; he'll plot and plan for you.
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Rise throughout the day.
An empty page lay as a child un –aging
The page is raging, awaiting the kiss of the ink.
If only to forever miss the interest of waking eyes,
Forever into obscurity the child is sinking.
We are as Adam and Eve cast from the garden of Eden,
We are as children with wisdoms eternal imbued.
I lay here alone in sinking.
Thinking un-blinking of knowing
Your touch to be real.
Here I am out of reach, insecure,
Here I am seeking a cure to my ailment,
Here I am placid in descent.
As you adorn the town in multi-shaded fineries
Not so far beyond the horizon. I’m dancing out of time.
Two oaks entwine, there branches alphabets in the wind.
A lake beside doth conceal a girl
Upon whose vibrations angels swim.
We may rise together, ascending as stars into the void.
Don’t get annoyed, don’t let them toy with your emotions.
Never close enough to kiss.
They’re yours, the lips I’m missing.
Missing though I have never known
Their presence upon my own.
I seek shelter from the storm of insecurity, I seek fame in obscurity.
In the knowledge of knowing
We reveal more than we ever intended to be included within the show.
I promised I would dance with you, free of inhibition.
I promised I would dance for you, as though on exhibition
Rise throughout the day.
Rise to the occasion.
Find your way, your own way.
Lead us through in celebration.
A troupe of Fey sway in rhythm.
Ecstasy fuels their march.
As pipers pipe a merry cheer,
Heralding the coach – the tomb
OF the breathing queen.
Her palace is her prison.
poem by David Lacey
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Kafka
Short of ending up like Kafka
Who toiled in obscurity
And died peniless
I work myself up
Not to allow myself down
Becoming one voice
For the community of
Published writers
Storming through the
Clutter of red tape
And desks covered in
Layers of dust
I dig my fingers into
Manuscripts
Of old
And allow my eyes
To file away alphbetically
The words
Words of virtue
Of nature
Of life
Of love
Written in free form
Or rhyme
Oh to wax poetic
With some unique prose
Nothing compares to
The poetic Rose
Got to raise myself up
From the words of before
Recapture their essence
In a more elegant form
Brainstorming creative
Issues is not all what it seems
Musn't end up like kafka
Lost in obscurity's
Almost famous dreams
poem by Theodora Onken
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Quantas Flight 149: Destination Sydney
Destiny established engine on the roar
Plane airborne jittery feelings re-born,
Flying Downunder two destinies disagree
One with feelings of certainty, the other an obscurity.
Eighteen hours flight memories in chain
Images rustling in and out my brain,
A question appeared an answer quickly vanished
Thin air blurry - images wanting to disagree.
Airborne memory trying to plea
Impossible to see denial hanging over me,
A waking call give up the other destiny
Land on certainty and forget the obscurity.
Awaiting tarmac - landing gears roll down
A new air - breath with easy mind,
Heart that pumps settle with a calm
Composure intact reality rides back.
Tower control - a gate opens up
Mind in control - feelings over the heart,
Faith to decide thus destiny defined
Alas dear old mind! your fate's intact with pride.
poem by Jona PoloRamirez
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Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 2
LET PETER rejoice with the MOON FISH who keeps up the life in the waters by night.
Let Andrew rejoice with the Whale, who is array'd in beauteous blue and is a combination of bulk and activity.
Let James rejoice with the Skuttle-Fish, who foils his foe by the effusion of his ink.
Let John rejoice with Nautilus who spreads his sail and plies his oar, and the Lord is his pilot.
Let Philip rejoice with Boca, which is a fish that can speak.
Let Bartholomew rejoice with the Eel, who is pure in proportion to where he is found and how he is used.
Let Thomas rejoice with the Sword-Fish, whose aim is perpetual and strength insuperable.
Let Matthew rejoice with Uranoscopus, whose eyes are lifted up to God.
Let James the less, rejoice with the Haddock, who brought the piece of money for the Lord and Peter.
Let Jude bless with the Bream, who is of melancholy from his depth and serenity.
Let Simon rejoice with the Sprat, who is pure and innumerable.
Let Matthias rejoice with the Flying-Fish, who has a part with the birds, and is sublimity in his conceit.
Let Stephen rejoice with Remora -- The Lord remove all obstacles to his glory.
Let Paul rejoice with the Scale, who is pleasant and faithful!, like God's good ENGLISHMAN.
Let Agrippa, which is Agricola, rejoice with Elops, who is a choice fish.
Let Joseph rejoice with the Turbut, whose capture makes the poor fisher-man sing.
Let Mary rejoice with the Maid -- blessed be the name of the immaculate CONCEPTION.
Let John, the Baptist, rejoice with the Salmon -- blessed be the name of the Lord Jesus for infant Baptism.
Let Mark rejoice with the Mullet, who is John Dore, God be gracious to him and his family.
Let Barnabus rejoice with the Herring -- God be gracious to the Lord's fishery.
Let Cleopas rejoice with the Mackerel, who cometh in a shoal after a leader.
Let Abiud of the Lord's line rejoice with Murex, who is good and of a precious tincture.
Let Eliakim rejoice with the Shad, who is contemned in his abundance.
Let Azor rejoice with the Flounder, who is both of the sea and of the river,
Let Sadoc rejoice with the Bleak, who playeth upon the surface in the Sun.
[...] Read more
poem by Christopher Smart
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In Search Of Purity
Purity encompasses our past like fury,
It comprises the victory signs of the jury.
A maid of heaven shall be purer than you,
Instead your place in heaven is sealed like barbecue.
Purity is more than an act, rather a statement
So pure itself, so much like goodness with reinstatement.
Great work and works are committed with zeal,
So passion and lusts are alien; and so the deal.
Let purity remark on itself as the longevity
And the afterlife suddenly, this is the brevity.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Strength
This night is mine alone but
All that I can do is taken from me
By something that I feel
My head is clear, my eyes are dry
But still there is something going through me
Its something all too real
Look around and hear the sound of things
That I can use to help me now
But I lack the strength
To walk alone
To stay away
From the telephone
Its much too hard
To fight my day
From day to day
And preserve my isolation and purity
So here I am, Ive worked so hard
Ive worked so long to be free of her
And still Im not all here
And I can hear her pain resounding now
But still Im living through her
I want to have her near
Come back down and look around
At broken thing shes spread out on the ground
But I lack the strength
To walk alone
To stay away
From the telephone
Its much too hard
To fight my day
From day to day
And preserve my isolation and purity
Come back down and look around
At broken thing shes spread out on the ground
Look around and hear the sound of things
That I can use to help me now
Come back down and look around
At broken thing shes spread out on the ground
But I lack the strength
To walk alone
To stay away
From the telephone
Its much too hard
To fight my day
From day to day
And preserve my isolation and purity
song performed by Information Society
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poem: The Full Beauty of Thee
Lately, life has been rough and coarse;
how have I strayed off course?
Be my light and show the way,
for You alone are Love’s real source.
O my Lord, please touch me
with Your spiritual purity!
Open my eyes, that I may see…
the full beauty of Thee.
Cure me of my blindness,
as I wander in this wilderness;
meet me where I am,
with Your loving kindness.
O my Lord, please touch me
with Your spiritual purity!
Open my eyes, that I may see…
the full beauty of Thee.
I’m not wanting more excuses,
to explain away how my sin oozes;
lift me up that I may find
the holy joy true faith produces.
O my Lord, please touch me
with Your spiritual purity!
Open my eyes, that I may see…
the full beauty of Thee.
-Joe Breunig
Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
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