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Dedicated Follower Of Fashion

They seek him here, they seek him there,
His clothes are loud, but never square.
It will make or break him so hes got to buy the best,
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
And when he does his little rounds,
round the boutiques of london town,
Eagerly pursuing all the latest fads and trends,
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
He thinks he is a flower to be looked at,
And when he pulls his frilly nylon panties right up tight,
He feels a dedicated follower of fashion.
Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
Theres one thing that he loves and that is flattery.
One week hes in polka-dots, the next week he is in stripes.
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
They seek him here, they seek him there,
In regent street and leicester square.
Everywhere the carnabetian army marches on,
Each one an dedicated follower of fashion.

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song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Are a Leader

You are a leader
Not a follower.
A date is a date,
Go for the debate.
Whatever happened
To their financial revolution?
I thought that they could find solution
To the country who is saddened
And scared at their “laissez-faire” mentality:
No common sense regulations for the economy.
What happened to Rush and Hannity?
Let them swim in ignominy.

You go to Washington
Not as an Uncle Tom,
But as a real leader,
A great debater,
A man with extraordinary common sense,
And a patriot who will accept no cents
From corrupted lobbyists.

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poem by Hebert Logerie
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As A Single Soul

A total approval of it
a single truth
acceptable to all
no religion would give
a universal religion may never be born

As a single soul
blessed by his bliss
as a small stream
we could flow merrily
into the sea of truth

If wisdom is born in solitude
wise we would be in solitude
a follower of none
a follower of truth
a participant in the whole

poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Childhood friend

I saw childhood friend named as Ibhrahim
Very pious, devoted and near replica of Him
True Momin(follower of truth) and servant of poor
He will welcome, provide the service but never show door

"Hello, Hello I shouted and ran after
He saw me and instantly greeted each other
He was medical practitioner and had dispensary
An ordinary man in outfit and a true missionary

I saw some kind of invisible pain on his face
He was pale, concerned individual and almost chased
He was never like this before so I hunted him
I simply stared in his eyes and beamed

He opened up slowly by saying
I am dejected and heavily paying
My dispensary was about to be burnt
I was shocked to hear from his mouth when learnt

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A massage of love

The religion has provided safe heaven
A way to attain salvation in troubled mind even
It is proposed with peace in mind
A definite solution and very kind

There is peace message with love
To live in complete harmony and believe
No hatred to any one of different nature
It is preached and made very sure

“Come to me and I shall protect”
The universal message was floated
Only be generous and kindly act
No one was to defy it and adversely react

No religion has differed in its concept
The people have seen torture and wept
It is their belief and supreme teachings
We are simply follower and listen to the preaching

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Message of love

A message of peace

The religion has provided safe heaven
A way to attain salvation in troubled mind even
It is proposed with peace in mind
A definite solution and very kind

There is peace message with love
To live in complete harmony and believe
No hatred to any one of different nature
It is preached and made very sure

“Come to me and I shall protect”
The universal message was floated
Only be generous and kindly act
No one was to defy it and adversely react

No religion has differed in its concept
The people have seen torture and wept
It is their belief and supreme teachings

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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John Bede Polding

With reverent eyes and bowed, uncovered head,
A son of sorrow kneels by fanes you knew;
But cannot say the words that should be said
To crowned and winged divinities like you.

The perfect speech of superhuman spheres
Man has not heard since He of Nazareth,
Slain for the sins of twice two thousand years,
Saw Godship gleaming through the gates of Death.

And therefore he who in these latter days
Has lost a Father — falling by the shrine,
Can only use the world’s ephemeral phrase,
Not, Lord, the faultless language that is Thine.

But he, Thy son upon whose shoulders shone
So long Elisha’s gleaming garments, may
Be pleased to hear a pleading human tone
To sift the spirit of the words I say.

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poem by Henry Kendall
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The Last Tournament

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, `Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?'

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead,
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutched at the crag, and started through mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and through the tree
Rushed ever a rainy wind, and through the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, "Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?"

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead.
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the tree
Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Iliad: Book 17

Brave Menelaus son of Atreus now came to know that Patroclus had
fallen, and made his way through the front ranks clad in full armour
to bestride him. As a cow stands lowing over her first calf, even so
did yellow-haired Menelaus bestride Patroclus. He held his round
shield and his spear in front of him, resolute to kill any who
should dare face him. But the son of Panthous had also noted the body,
and came up to Menelaus saying, "Menelaus, son of Atreus, draw back,
leave the body, and let the bloodstained spoils be. I was first of the
Trojans and their brave allies to drive my spear into Patroclus, let
me, therefore, have my full glory among the Trojans, or I will take
aim and kill you."
To this Menelaus answered in great anger "By father Jove, boasting
is an ill thing. The pard is not more bold, nor the lion nor savage
wild-boar, which is fiercest and most dauntless of all creatures, than
are the proud sons of Panthous. Yet Hyperenor did not see out the days
of his youth when he made light of me and withstood me, deeming me the
meanest soldier among the Danaans. His own feet never bore him back to
gladden his wife and parents. Even so shall I make an end of you
too, if you withstand me; get you back into the crowd and do not
face me, or it shall be worse for you. Even a fool may be wise after

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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