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Selfishness (1)

Days are counted
Reason made daunted
Purpose is hunted
Empathy in human
Scattered at the peak
Success or history
Selfishness is never fine.

poem by Malaya Roses
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

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

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

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Hunted Child

Verse 1
(today in los angeles another youth loses his life. gunshot wound to
The head. street violence is at an all-time high)
No jokin, Im sleepin with my eyes open
Wanted for a homicide ride, the guns still smokin
Didnt know what I was doin but did it anyway
Now the posses on my trail, they say Im gonna pay (run!)
I had a gun, its mine and I packed it
Out with my crew, the boys caught some static
Me and this sucker punk went at it
Bang! nine automatic
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
Verse 2
(sources say the assailant was 17-years old and lives in south-central
Los angeles)
Now Im on a hideout tip cos theyre after me
Lapd says theyre gonna capture me
Was I crazy? I guess I had to be
Cos once you kill its instant catastrophe
Your whole life is over (through!)
Forget about your girl your (crew!)
Nowhere to run, so what you gonna do?
Be glad its me, homeboy, and not you
The hunted child
Im the hunted child
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
Verse 3
Im only 17, I didnt mean to kill, man
But I was slangin and bangin for the thrill, man
When they said (kill!) I felt chill, man
But once I pulled the trigger, boy, then things got ill, man
My homeboys dipped out the back fast
Left me alone in the echo of the gun blast
Everybody saw my face, I didnt wear a mask
You wanna know my name? just ask
The hunted child
Im the hunted child
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
(the science of capitalism which you teach to the youth on the streets
Today with the ends justifying the means mentality aint happenin)
Verse 4
Im sweatin heavy cos my face is on tv
Everybody in this whole worlds after me
Since I was young I never had a damned thing
At christmas time Id hate to hear the bells ring
Cos in the ghetto santa aint got a dime
Your mothers standin in the welfare line

[...] Read more

song performed by Ice T
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fine

A lovers quarrel
Death by a shotgun barrel
With a cleaning solution the instruments are made sterile.
A hairy situation.
Like a plastic surgeon.
Rewriting the expression.
In both the date and time.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Changing my identity
Becoming that man I never use to be
With all niceties, and pleasantries wrapped in a little bow tie.
I don't even know how I survived.
Some thought I would have committed suicide.
But my drive just wouldn't let me.

Well, Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

A murders escape.
A mind debates.
With shouts of hate.
How can you? Just how can you?
Emotional distress.
In all this I digest the worthiness
Worthless I've been called.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Steep From A Peak A Fall Deep

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see...
A clarity that stops their sleeping.

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see.
A clarity that stops their sleeping.

Deceit is wished to be defeated.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Honesty reveals all evils.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
And those of wicked ways.
Try not to look afraid,
But.

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.

Deceit is wished to be defeated.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Honesty reveals all evils.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Scattered

This song is dedicated to the memory of
Annie florence davies and carol bryans.
Like a seed that is sewn
All the children are scattered
By a breeze that is blown
Now the crops are all scattered
We are torn, we are shattered
Now some of us are barmy and battered
And the fields where we gathered
Are overgrown in weeds and in tatters
Through it all we were scattered
To the fields we are scattered
From the day we are born
To grow wild and sleep rough
Till from the earth we are torn
And a soul that is free
Can live on eternally
And the spirit can live on
Though its scattered in the world beyond
And Ive been out of my mind
Ever since shes been gone
I look around that empty room
No sight nor sound
Shes left so soon
Shes out of view
But the I find
Those scattered clues she left behind
A photograph with a smiling face
A cigarette stubbed out on the fireplace
A coffee cup with her lipstick stains
I guess Ill never see her again
Now my life is all scattered
Ever since shes been gone
I feel older, I feel fatter
I feel the blues coming on
We get bruised
We get battered
But well pick up the pieces that scattered
And with emotional glue
Were gonna stick together, body and mind
Ever since she went away
Ive been alone to contemplate
Time and space and why worlds move
While sitting in my solitude
Ive watched the stars and wondered why
Theyre scattered up there in the sky
And is she up there out of view
On some higher platitude
I wish I knew
Wish I could prove

[...] Read more

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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We've All Been Greedy

Those peaceful nights for some have passed.
Those feeling safe...
In sheltered communities behind closed gates.
Are awakening.
But not to Robins singing.
To peer from behind French customed made doors.
Swinging out onto the patio.
Overlooking acres upon acres upon more acres,
Of freshly cut grass.

These awareness days have come upon us fast.
Who would believe such a quick erasing,
Of a way of life....
Would come to pass.
And leave those embittered with much grief,
With streaks of torment on twisted faces.
Disgraced and now nervously pacing.
In wait.
But for what?
When the 'why' of it has arrived too late!

We've been greedy.
See what gluttony does when it can't be overcomed.
We've been greedy,
And feeding on our selfishness.
While ripping the hearts out of those to sustain it.
Doing everything to gain more and maintain it.

We've been greedy!
And..
The stinging of the realness,
Persists.
And can not be contained.
Acts of civil madness...
Spreads fast!

Thousands go out of their minds.
Many more are trapped!

Something in their minds have snapped.
Only those exposed to fantasies,
Are observed doing that.

And a waste of explanation can not bring them back!
Their self delusions have attacked.

Leaving us all affected by that 'fat'!
Yes fat!

Undisciplined rascists...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Reason To Believe

Lighting candles in the church of my choice, loving strangers in the dark
Looking for someone to give me what I lack
Searching for something 'till you showed me the gun in my back
I'm human and I need it, I must have my beliefs
I open myself to the love, yeah
And I love you 'cause you showed me a merciful release
I'm living this time and I know you gave me the reason
Chorus:
One reason (to believe), one reason (you're the one)
One reason (to believe), one reason (my baby)
One reason (it's all I need), one reason (to believe)
One reason (my baby), one reason
Trying to get faith from the eight fifty paperbacks
Hoping they'll show me the way (the way to what?)
Man in a crisis, a young girl in his bed
She's trying to help him when she tells him it's all in his head
I'm human and I need it, I must have my beliefs
I open myself to the love, yeah
I love you 'cause you showed me a merciful release
I'm living this time and I know you gave me the reason
chorus
I bow to the east or I kneel to the west, it's a matter of faith
I'm the only one who has to believe it
chorus
(Solo)
One reason, one reason, one reason, one reason
I bow to the east or I kneel to the west, it's a matter of faith
I'm the only one who has to believe it
One reason (to believe), one reason (you're the one)
One reason (one reason), one reason (my baby)
One reason (that's all I need), one reason (to believe)
One reason (to believe), one reason (just give me one)
One reason (one reason), one reason (to believe)
One reason (it's all I need), one reason (my baby)
One reason (my baby), one reason (my baby)
One reason (you are the reason), one reason
One reason (that's all I want), one reason (that's all I need)...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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Monsoon at peak! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Monsoon at peak
I hear a monologue-
Rain speaks…

Monsoon at peak,
Thatched roofs
Leak…

Monsoon at peak,
Corn on cob
Wins over coffee…

Monsoon at peak,
Can I go out, mother?
A child pleads…

Monsoon at peak,
A boy steals a look
At a girl soaked to skin…

Monsoon at peak,
Roads flooded,
Where is MCD?

Monsoon at peak,
Umbrellas
New fashion accessory…

Monsoon at peak,
Sun gets much needed
Rest…

Monsoon at peak,
Bathes
Foliage and trees.

Monsoon at peak
Schools closed
Children squeal,
Wish, it rains
Everyday of the week…

Monsoon at peak,
Leave your shoes at the door-
Mother screams…

Monsoon at peak,
Driver stops
To wipe the wind shield…

[...] Read more

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Door Of Humility

ENGLAND
We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand
The How and Why of such as He;

But natured only to rejoice
At every sound or sign of hope,
And, guided by the still small voice,
In patience through the darkness grope;

Until our finer sense expands,
And we exchange for holier sight
The earthly help of voice and hands,
And in His light behold the Light.

I

Let there be Light! The self-same Power
That out of formless dark and void
Endued with life's mysterious dower
Planet, and star, and asteroid;

That moved upon the waters' face,
And, breathing on them His intent,
Divided, and assigned their place
To, ocean, air, and firmament;

That bade the land appear, and bring
Forth herb and leaf, both fruit and flower,
Cattle that graze, and birds that sing,
Ordained the sunshine and the shower;

That, moulding man and woman, breathed
In them an active soul at birth
In His own image, and bequeathed
To them dominion over Earth;

That, by whatever is, decreed
His Will and Word shall be obeyed,
From loftiest star to lowliest seed;-
The worm and me He also made.

And when, for nuptials of the Spring
With Summer, on the vestal thorn
The bridal veil hung flowering,
A cry was heard, and I was born.

II

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poem by Alfred Austin
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Better Dayz

Lookin for these better days
Better days, heyyy! Better days
Got me thinkin bout better days
Better days! Better days, better days
Heyyy! Better days
Got me thinkin bout better days
Time to question our lifestyle, look how we live
Smokin weed like it ain't no thang, so even kids
wanna try now, they lie down and get ran through
Nobody watched 'em clockin the evil man do
Faced with the demons, addicted to hearin victims screamin
Guess we was evil since birth, product of cursed semens
Cause even our birthdays is cursed days
A born thug in the first place, the worst ways
I'd love to see the block in peace
With no more dealers and crooked cops, the only way to stop the beast
And only we can change
It's up to us to clean up the streets, it ain't the same
Too many murders, too many funerals and too many tears
Just seen another brother buried plus I knew him for years
Passed by his family, but what could I say?
Keep yo' head up and try to keep the faith
And pray for better days
Better days, better days, heyyy!
Better days.. got me thinkin bout better days
Better days, better days, better days
Heyyy! Better days
Got me thinkin bout better days
Thinkin back as an adolescent, who would've guessed
that in my future years, I'd be stressin
Some say the ghetto's sick and corrupted
Plus my P.O. won't let me hang with the brothers I grew up with
Tryin to keep my head up and stay strong
All my homies slangin llello all day long, but they wrong
So I'm solo and so broke
Savin up for some Jordan's, cause they dope
I got a girl and I love her but she broke too, and so am I
I can't take her to the place she wanna go to
So we argue and play fight, all day and night
Makin passionate love 'til the daylight
Plus we about to get evicted, can't pay the rent
Guess it's time to see who really is yo' friend
Tell me you pregnant and I'm amazed
So many blessings while we stressin
Lookin for them better days
For better days, better days, better days, heyyy!
Better days.. got me thinkin bout better days
Better days, better days, better days
Heyyy! Better days.. got me thinkin bout better days
Now me and you was real cool, hell on them square fools

[...] Read more

song performed by 2 Pac
Added by Lucian Velea
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Queen Mab: Part V.

'Thus do the generations of the earth
Go to the grave and issue from the womb,
Surviving still the imperishable change
That renovates the world; even as the leaves
Which the keen frost-wind of the waning year
Has scattered on the forest-soil and heaped
For many seasons there-though long they choke,
Loading with loathsome rottenness the land,
All germs of promise, yet when the tall trees
From which they fell, shorn of their lovely shapes,
Lie level with the earth to moulder there,
They fertilize the land they long deformed;
Till from the breathing lawn a forest springs
Of youth, integrity and loveliness,
Like that which gave it life, to spring and die.
Thus suicidal selfishness, that blights
The fairest feelings of the opening heart,
Is destined to decay, whilst from the soil
Shall spring all virtue, all delight, all love,
And judgment cease to wage unnatural war
With passion's unsubduable array.
Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness!
Rival in crime and falsehood, aping all
The wanton horrors of her bloody play;
Yet frozen, unimpassioned, spiritless,
Shunning the light, and owning not its name,
Compelled by its deformity to screen
With flimsy veil of justice and of right
Its unattractive lineaments that scare
All save the brood of ignorance; at once
The cause and the effect of tyranny;
Unblushing, hardened, sensual and vile;
Dead to all love but of its abjectness;
With heart impassive by more noble powers
Than unshared pleasure, sordid gain, or fame;
Despising its own miserable being,
Which still it longs, yet fears, to disenthrall.

'Hence commerce springs, the venal interchange
Of all that human art or Nature yield;
Which wealth should purchase not, but want demand,
And natural kindness hasten to supply
From the full fountain of its boundless love,
Forever stifled, drained and tainted now.
Commerce! beneath whose poison-breathing shade
No solitary virtue dares to spring,
But poverty and wealth with equal hand
Scatter their withering curses, and unfold
The doors of premature and violent death
To pining famine and full-fed disease,

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Very Fine Love

(bob dipiero / jim photoglo)
I never knew how good love could be
All Id ever known was make believe
So many times Ive played the fool
Baby, til I met you
Now everything has fallen in place
You can tell by the smile on my face
For every lonely tear that Ive cried
Im that much satisfied
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
You know it when you find one
Shining like a diamond
Its so fine, fine, very fine love
How did I ever live without your love?
Its the only thing Im certain of
No matter what Im going through
I know I can count on you
You are more precious to me every day
Life is better now in every way
You dont have to lay the world at my feet
You have made my world complete
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love, oh, oh
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
You know it when you find one
Shining like a diamond
Its so fine, so fine, very fine love
Ive got no apprehensions
Youve got the best intentions
Weve got a, weve got a, weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
A very fine
A very fine love
Very fine love, ah, ha, ooh, hoo
So fine, hey, so fine
So good, so good love

song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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(Murder Poem) Shades Of Black

No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
I was abandon as a child.
I'm alone as a man.
The goodness of the damned.
Oh how I wish I had a plan.
Something set in stone.
With many regrets I walk this life feeling like a reject.
A failure all on my own.
I don't need no help from you never did.

No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
Their is poison in the water.
Their is treachery afoot.
Oh Oh just come look.
The blood has been spilt and they have no clue I did it you.
I don't even care if they did.
I'll take as many I can.
When everything has gone so wrong.
Sitting staring out the window with a revolver in you in hand.
What choices are left?

No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
A nightmare of solutions unfold.
Each bloody as the next.
How can you ever truly live with it.
Settling for only second best.
The black knight ego's of arrogance.
Tunnel vision fills his eyes.
All he's after is the prize.
I doesn't matter who gets hurt on his way to it.
With deliverance I give you pain.
A message from someone who truly insane.

No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.

No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.

No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
And it is time for my greatest attack.
As if anyone should be proud of such a thing.
The sweat pours off my brow as I become the butcher of butchers.
A dissection of a living to dead body.
Someone help this man, oh please anybody.
The urges to kill won't stop.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I Counted On Love

Morse, Walsh)
-----------------
I'm hangin on, 'cause I hate letting go (I hate letting go)
I'm not that strong, but you already know how I hate letting go
We believed that dreams came true, now that picture's torn in two
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I counted on love
Some great defender, is that what you need? To heal not to bleed
Some great pretender shouting
"SET YOURSELF FREE- SET YOURSELF FREE"
Why do memories have to be like a lock without a key?
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I was flying oh so high
Now I'm trying not to cry
I was trying, but I'm dying, 'cause I hate letting go
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I counted on love
I counted on you

song performed by Kansas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Fourth

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

II.

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

III.

In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.

But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.

V.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

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poem by Tom Zart
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Canto the Fourteenth

I
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss --
But then 't would spoil much good philosophy.
One system eats another up, and this
Much as old Saturn ate his progeny;
For when his pious consort gave him stones
In lieu of sons, of these he made no bones.

II
But System doth reverse the Titan's breakfast,
And eats her parents, albeit the digestion
Is difficult. Pray tell me, can you make fast,
After due search, your faith to any question?
Look back o'er ages, ere unto the stake fast
You bind yourself, and call some mode the best one.
Nothing more true than not to trust your senses;
And yet what are your other evidences?

III
For me, I know nought; nothing I deny,
Admit, reject, contemn; and what know you,
Except perhaps that you were born to die?
And both may after all turn out untrue.
An age may come, Font of Eternity,
When nothing shall be either old or new.
Death, so call'd, is a thing which makes men weep,
And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep.

IV
A sleep without dreams, after a rough day
Of toil, is what we covet most; and yet
How clay shrinks back from more quiescent clay!
The very Suicide that pays his debt
At once without instalments (an old way
Of paying debts, which creditors regret)
Lets out impatiently his rushing breath,
Less from disgust of life than dread of death.

V
'T is round him, near him, here, there, every where;
And there's a courage which grows out of fear,
Perhaps of all most desperate, which will dare
The worst to know it -- when the mountains rear
Their peaks beneath your human foot, and there
You look down o'er the precipice, and drear
The gulf of rock yawns -- you can't gaze a minute
Without an awful wish to plunge within it.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth

If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss--
But then 'twould spoil much good philosophy.
One system eats another up, and this
Much as old Saturn ate his progeny;
For when his pious consort gave him stones
In lieu of sons, of these he made no bones.

But System doth reverse the Titan's breakfast,
And eats her parents, albeit the digestion
Is difficult. Pray tell me, can you make fast,
After due search, your faith to any question?
Look back o'er ages, ere unto the stake fast
You bind yourself, and call some mode the best one.
Nothing more true than not to trust your senses;
And yet what are your other evidences?

For me, I know nought; nothing I deny,
Admit, reject, contemn; and what know you,
Except perhaps that you were born to die?
And both may after all turn out untrue.
An age may come, Font of Eternity,
When nothing shall be either old or new.
Death, so call'd, is a thing which makes men weep,
And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep.

A sleep without dreams, after a rough day
Of toil, is what we covet most; and yet
How clay shrinks back from more quiescent clay!
The very Suicide that pays his debt
At once without instalments (an old way
Of paying debts, which creditors regret)
Lets out impatiently his rushing breath,
Less from disgust of life than dread of death.

'Tis round him, near him, here, there, every where;
And there's a courage which grows out of fear,
Perhaps of all most desperate, which will dare
The worst to know it:--when the mountains rear
Their peaks beneath your human foot, and there
You look down o'er the precipice, and drear
The gulf of rock yawns,--you can't gaze a minute
Without an awful wish to plunge within it.

'Tis true, you don't - but, pale and struck with terror,
Retire: but look into your past impression!
And you will find, though shuddering at the mirror
Of your own thoughts, in all their self--confession,
The lurking bias, be it truth or error,

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poem by Byron
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