Quotes about brutish, page 3
Rid Off Bigots
Harmonious thoughts alone
Could keep this earth meek and shrewd.
A secular cult will bring
peace and ease to all.
Harrowing brutish minds
with narrowing preachings are
engaged in shooting and
killing spree…..
Matured people die
maimed kids say bye.
Merging all the religions will
bury the bombs and guns at once.
Idiotic, brains will harm
and kill those who have no arms
of the whole human race.
(Harmonous….shrewd)
Millenniums two have gone;
still you sing slogans same.
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Beauty and the beast
In face and feature, line and grace,
a beauty like few others.
The first blush of her youth now past
Found her a wife and mother.
Her husband was a brutish man
Of gentleness devoid
His psychiatrist’s opinion read:
“Schizophrenic- paranoid”
Beauty’s son was with some friends.
Her bag was packed and ready.
She’d make a clean break with her man-
She’d found a job already.
He’d just been RIF’d that fateful day.
And spent it in a bar
The drink but fueled his darkening rage.
He could barely drive his car.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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I Have Long Wanted To Make Love With You
inside your car
i have long wanted to make love with you
but you were so
prim and proper your hands
strict on the steering wheel
and your eyes
looking straight ahead
of the road
beyond us
nothing happens by chance
and nothing happens by chance without your permission
and so i just closed my eyes
(and you did not even notice)
i just imagined love and loving alone in the darkness of my soul
and even inside that fantasy
you were the angel with big wings flying high
like a cloud in the sky
and you look at me as though i am the ant looking for a morsel
of bread under your table)
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hymn XIX: Rejoice Evermore With Angels Above
Rejoice evermore With angels above,
In Jesus's power, In Jesus's love:
With glad exultation Your triumph proclaim,
Ascribing salvation To God and the Lamb.
Thou, Lord, our relief In trouble hast been;
Hast saved us from grief, Hast saved us from sin;
The power of thy Spirit Hath set our hearts free,
And now we inherit All fullness in thee;
All fullness of peace, All fullness of joy,
And spiritual bliss That never shall cloy:
To us it is given In Jesus to know
A kingdom of heaven, A heaven below.
No longer we join While sinners invite,
Nor envy the swine Their brutish delight;
Their joy is all sadness, Their mirth is all vain,
Their laughter is madness, Their pleasure is pain.
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poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn XIX: Rejoice Evermore With Angels Above
Rejoice evermore With angels above,
In Jesus's power, In Jesus's love:
With glad exultation Your triumph proclaim,
Ascribing salvation To God and the Lamb.
Thou, Lord, our relief In trouble hast been;
Hast saved us from grief, Hast saved us from sin;
The power of thy Spirit Hath set our hearts free,
And now we inherit All fulness in thee;
All fulness of peace, All fulness of joy,
And spiritual bliss That never shall cloy:
To us it is given In Jesus to know
A kingdom of heaven, A heaven below.
No longer we join While sinners invite,
Nor envy the swine Their brutish delight;
Their joy is all sadness, Their mirth is all vain,
Their laughter is madness, Their pleasure is pain.
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poem by John Wesley
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The Bulls
Six bulls I saw as black as jet,
With crimsoned horns and amber eyes
That chewed their cud without a fret,
And swished to brush away the flies,
Unwitting their soon sacrifice.
It is the Corpus Christi fête;
Processions crowd the bannered ways;
Before the alters women wait,
While men unite in hymns of praise,
And children look with angel gaze.
The bulls know naught of holiness,
To pious pomp their eyes are blind;
Their brutish brains will never guess
The sordid passions of mankind:
Poor innocents, they wait resigned.
Till in a black room each is penned,
While from above with cruel aim
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poem by Robert William Service
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AFTER THE BALL......In two voices, Mother & Son
Son:
After the breakdown,
euphoric fits in a room
lit by one candlelight of pretense
denying the end of marriage,
you twirled by yourself on the floor.
Softly shading your moods
to the subdued warmth of lamps
cloaked in the hue of a man,
have you always denied
the life that direct light imposed?
Floating through the rooms
veiled in scarves
and talismans of tarnished silver,
was it illusion you followed after
in the trailing ripple of curtains?
Mother:
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poem by John Tansey
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Charity
Oh, loyal Orange breth-er-en.
I pray you act as Christlan men,
And, should your spleen arise, count ten
Before you speak.
Nay, bear me, brothers, I beseech.
Refrain from all un-Christian speech
Remember! He, whose Word we preach,
Was ever week.
The lazy, low Italian,
The cheating, shifty Mexican
All Papist creatures to a man;
Avid brutes at that
The scum that Rome's base agents skim
With mummery from ages dim.
Dear brothers, let us sing a n'ymn,
And pass the bat.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Giant’s Ring
BALLYLESSON, NEAR BELFAST
Whoever is able will pursue the plainly
False immortality of not having lived in vain but leaving some
mark in the world.
Secretly mocking at his own insanity
He labors the same, he knows that no dead man's lip was ever
curled in self-scorn,
And immortality is for the dead.
Jesus and Caesar out of the bricks of man's weakness, Washington
out of the brittle
Bones of man's strength built their memorials,
This nameless chief of a knot of forgotten tribes in the Irish darkness
used faithfuller
Simpler materials: to diadem a hilltop
That sees the long loughs and the Mourne Mountains, with a ring
of enormous embankment, and to build
In the center that great toad of a dolmen
Piled up of ponderous basalt that sheds the centuries like raindrops.
He drove the labor,
And has earmarked already some four millenniums.
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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Friends to Virtue
"The gods whom we all belong to are the gods we belong to whether we will or no."
Into the theatre they came—
"Motley 's the only wear!"
Children of poverty, of shame,
Of folly, of despair.
Elbowing rudely, Jill and Jack,
A nearer view to win,
Youths, men, and women, white and black,
Pell-mell, they jostled in.
A wretched place of poor resort,
Far from the world polite,
Few pennies bought the meagre sport
So fruitful of delight,
And gazing there, each brutish face,
The godlike stamp resigned,
A tablet seemed whereon disgrace
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poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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