Think, Question, Repeat (If Desired)/Stripes

Think, Question, Repeat (If Desired)/Stripes (Full Version)

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Cow Face -> Think, Question, Repeat (If Desired)/Stripes (7/15/2008 14:17:55)
Comment Thread The End It's coming now, it's coming fast. I don't know how long we can last. Present's a repeat of the past. It's coming on, it's coming fast. Everyone sees it, no-one knows How long it takes before it blows. Fear and fire, but mostly foes Greeted the sun that never rose. There is no fix, there is no mend; Not one of us can stop the end. News comes blowing in on the wind: News of the hole, news of the rend. Mute the sound, cover your ears! Hide your burdens, suppress your fear! Will it be weeks, months, even a year? Using laughter, disguise the tears. Peeling thunder, the coming storm Seems to take forever to form. Freezing fire, ice that is warm Announces the pestilent swarm. We're content in security, Yet we don't have our privacy. Long ago, we shattered the key To the cage that is all we see. What you have sown, you always reap. Why didn't this already seep Into our minds? There's not a peep From our old pride, that now but sleeps. No-one can stop the coming flood- Of tears? Of pain? Of strife, or blood? Nay, the river brings but a bud Of knowledge bliss- the end of blood. A Poem For the Future It's a poem for the future Where free speech died; It's a poem for the masses Who run and hide. Will you let yourself Become a slave? Will you resign yourself To the conclave? Cling to your opinions, They're all you've got. Defend your freedom Until you rot. It's a poem for the future Where free speech died; It's a poem for the masses Who run and hide. Whom you view as a savior Is truly your captor, Whom you hold in favor Holds you in rapture. It was a poem for the future Where all we did Was flee, like the masses- We ran and hid. The Noisiest Silence The noisiest silence that ever was heard: All thinkers radicals, all logic absurd. The fate of a nation depends on a word Spoken by one whose speech we have all heard Again and again, will it ever end? There's no deviation; no one will bend From the path that now forms the largest rend In our morbid republic- we fear the end. Change is but a word, saying that we must Just accept their lies, and let our minds rust. Their fairy-tale beckons, calls on our lust To accept their words, to give them our trust. We have no secrets, no things we can hide From their searching eyes. What happened to pride? Are we only beasts, that simply abide Their oppressive rule? What happened to pride? The quietest noise that never was heard: No thinkers or dreamers; all things are absurd. Out Of Your Control I wear a smile so I don't have to frown. I take a deep breath 'cause I don't want to drown. I laugh so hard because I feel I could cry. I haven't yet quit, but I don't want to try. I listen to the wind when I feel like dirt. I wipe blood on my chest to keep clean my shirt. I bite the spider, then I constrict the snake. I scream to no-one, 'cause that's all I can take. You can mend a broken arm, You can heal a broken skull. You can bandage up your harm, You can sharpen what is dull. But you can't fix a broken soul, No, no, it's out of your control. I grin through the pain, to show what I can bear. I patch up the hole, then I rip a new tear, Bellow to silence, then darken the lamp. The darkness is blinding, the fire is damp. Punch-drunk yet standing: a shadow of a man Who listens to naught but the blade in the fan. Silently weeping, for no-one's yet been told Of the pain he now suffers- his fractured soul. You can mend a broken arm, You can heal a broken skull. You can bandage up your harm, You can sharpen what is dull. But you can't fix a broken soul, No, no, it's out of your control. No, no, no, it's out of your control... Red, White, and Grey Black trampled green, turning it brown, Then headed on to red-stained ground. Grey fired grey, which then met tan, 'Till navy reigned, then it started again. Crimson changed orange, then turned to blue, Next, camouflage gathered its dues. Black white and brown shot up the town. More grey flung grey; more red spilled down. Blue waxed darker; soon out came white. Brown swirled 'round, as if 'twere a blight. White looked down on the fractured scene, And saw only the red of human beings.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (7/29/2008 15:06:12)
If I Weren't Blind, Angel If I weren’t mute, I’d find a way, And unto you, then I would say How you molded me like I was clay. Please come back, O Angel, don’t stray. And if I weren’t blind, then I would see How much you’ve come to mean to me. I’ll find thee, O Angel, I’ll find thee. You don't know how you bind me, angel, you bind me. If I weren’t deaf, then I would hear Everything suddenly come clear. Draw nearer, O Angel, draw near. I can’t hear, angel, I can’t hear. When I saw you ten years ago, Your beauty, it struck me a blow. My tongue went thick, and then got numb. Your beauty, how it struck me dumb, O Angel. I went away to fight a war For a cause I’d never heard before. When I saw you, my heart it tore, Swept away all the gore, O Angel. If I weren’t blind, I’d find a way, And with you, O Angel, I would stay. Accept me, Angel, protect me! So if I weren’t blind, then I would see How great a fool I’ve been, poor me. And as I lay down my soldier’s head, I wish I’d lay with you instead, O Angel!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (7/29/2008 15:07:14)
Think and Question, Then Repeat Politics all look mighty fine, Everyone’s marching in a line; A minuet in quarter-time. If your mind stirs, don’t give a sign. Never admit or accept truth, Keep all that’s humane held aloof! Pull dissidents like you’d pull a tooth, Call compassion “savage, uncouth.” We hear the sound of marching feet, And think, “Aren’t they all mighty neat?” But they never march to the beat Of think and question, then repeat. All our minds are being censored. “Give them free speech? Why, that’s absurd!” Leaders all pass through the sensors Without so much as some censure. Politicians look rather neat, All of them marching to the beat: “Don’t think or question, just repeat!” Think and question, then repeat.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (8/14/2008 15:54:31)
I Take My Leave (Of This Place) The wind’s been at my back For all these last few years. Since I may not come back, There will be no more tears. I know my feet will bleed. It will be filled with pain. And yet, for me to lead I must take this trip- my bane. For it’s time, it’s high time That I take my leave of this place. As the bells, how they chime, While I take my leave of this race. I’m sick of the slander, I’m tired of the lies. This fatuous banter Embodies my despise. The people, they all scream When they see me coming. To them, I’m just obscene, And they take off running. For it’s time, it’s high time That I take my leave of this place. As the bells, how they chime, While I take my leave of this race. Well, they’re all sick of me As much as I of them. I guess we can’t agree. So, I leave on a whim. The wind’s been at my back For all these last few years. Since I may not come back, There will be no more tears. For it’s time, it’s high time That I take my leave of this place. As the bells, how they chime, While I take my leave of this race.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (8/27/2008 13:53:15)
Revolution Flash of powder, Crack of the guns Growing louder- War has begun. Burning pyre, Smoke everywhere, Piling higher, Filling the air. Soldiers question The cause of this Revolution- What did we miss? The smoke has set, The dust just cleared. The ground is wet As are our tears.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (8/27/2008 15:43:06)
*Quicksilver* Lively Quicksilver, she trimmed her sails, And swam upon the ocean. Anchors away, drop the boom! Let's start this revolution! Grab your cutlass, grab your gun; Everybody get on board! At the cannons, broadside now; Let us off'n start the war! Chorus: Quicksilver, the Quicksilver: Finest first-rate on land! Lovely lass, she'll sink ya' fast, Cannons roar to beat the band! Powder smell, mixed with muskets Made us all hack and cough. Boarders jumped on, fired their guns; Together we shoved 'em off. Broadside once more; dropped their mast. The frigate, she was our prize! We privateers, us captains three Relished the losing cries. Chorus Finally, we made our port, We were glad to be on shore... Yet we look forward to the day That we'll set sail once more!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (9/2/2008 13:51:37)
Writer On a quest to fill the pages, A need that inside him rages: Waxing, growing, consuming all- The audience he must enthrall. Hunched up alone in a corner, He sits, a weary sojourner: Empty, searching, looking for more- Trying to find meaning in store. He tries to sort out truth from lies, Failing this, he lays down and sighs: Weary, tired, condemned, resigned- He can’t map out the grand design. An idea strikes, he bleeds it out, A temp’rary salve to the doubt: Content and pleased, yet still quite grim- The quest he now must start again.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (9/18/2008 16:01:59)
Oil's War The guns crack, Bullets fire Into backs. Sunk in mire, Bodies fester. Battle's blood- What color? Only black.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (9/29/2008 17:01:05)
Sin, Alive Quickly Bury me beneath the sea Or dig me up a grave. Put me under six feet deep Or 'neath the roaring waves. But don't celebrate too soon, you see, I'll come back 'live and well! And I'll drag ya', kicking, screaming, To the pit where I now dwell. Chorus For no coffin can contain me, No grave is deep enough To break my vengeful spirit Or to contain my lust For life. Alive. Your lying face is now disgraced, The cause of all this sin! No atonement or repentance Can make things right again. While the honest face you have disgraced Now is a-licking on his wounds. You're the basilisk that bit him While he was out on the dunes. Chorus Faster What is this thing that we call life? Why is it filled with such pain and strife? We try so hard to understand Why we deserve such reprimand. Slowing down Bury me beneath the sea Or dig me up a grave. Put me under six feet deep Or 'neath the roaring waves. Chorus

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/1/2008 11:29:00)
Crusade I step out on the field, Wipe blood from my mouth While the shouts of the dead Dry my soul to drouth. The battle is over, But still I feel numb. Grace of the God above Struck me blind and dumb. They say the war's ended, As is the chaos. The victory is sweet, But what is the loss? My dry tears hit the ground, And I wonder thus: Are we Alexander, Or are we Pyrrhus? They say it was for God, But I disagree. 'Tis just a perversion Of Christianity. At least now 'tis over; I fear more will come And stir up more violence, Start new the bedlam. Though we fight for glory, All we find is gore. Our leaders call on us, Lusting for still more. I'm sick of the fighting, I want to go home, Where I can rest my feet, And sleep through the gloam'. A bloodied old tabard, Some rusty chain mail Are all that I now see, As fate I bewail. Mine eyes spy a flower, Beauteous and pure; Its petals are crimson, As soft as velour. Yet how can it grow here, In this trampled ground? The very thought of it, It does me astound. I reach for a moment To study its roots, Then I withdraw my hand, Curse me for a brute. It would be such a shame To end its poor life; But how does it grow in This world filled with strife? Pieces of a spearhead Adorn the ground near Where the lone little rose Blesses the ground here. This strange duality Of beauty and pain Confounds me to no end, Near drives me insane. I search for the meaning, The significance Of what this flower means To shattered fragments Of men whose existence It seems matters not To the one that sent us To undo this knot. I'm tired of words like Duty, Sacrifice, When they come from the mouths Of men that are mice. They send us when they won't Come with us themselves. Save your own Holy Land, Get wounded thyself! From old men to children, They all give their lives. How I hate the death toll! Its sight I despise. Now from spear to rifle, The weapons they change. But the field still is sand, The cause still deranged. Ah, someday it will end, Wish it would end now. So I plant a flower, And hope it will grow. I'm sick of the fighting, I want to go home, Where I can rest my feet, And sleep through the gloam'.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/6/2008 9:23:12)
Memoriam, Only In Joy Weep As a ragged cheer rises up, Then the bodies cease to fall down. No more pain and grief, No more bloodied ground. Because the soldiers, they all know It's finally come to an end. No more wounded souls, No more hearts do rend. It's a beautiful tragedy, It is a sorrowful blessing. Though lives have been lost, Our mended souls sing. Oh, we are saved through sacrifice And we cherish their memory. Let's take this lesson To heart, so we'll see. Why did it have to be this way? It's a bittersweet ending fight. As humans we grieve, For once we unite. But the sun, it still shines on down, The wind still whistles through the land. Let us say a prayer For poor souls now damned. We will not let ourselves forget About the promise we now keep. Remember those lost, Only in joy weep.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/14/2008 9:13:30)
Red Soil of Serfdom What happens when landlords Cross our back with their swords? My life is not my own. Run mad with sorrow, Pain and the aggro; A bloody crop we've sown. While the pain, it astounds, And our grief knows no bounds; Under the whip crack we toil. The faults in our bones Greet each day with groans; And now red is the soil. Where is integrity? It's only greed I see. All we get are harsh blows Comin' from the likes Of the men with pikes. All morals they lay low. Go bow to your masters, But those thieving bastards Don't deserve to own land. Last time that you ate The crumbs off your plate, You did it a free man.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/15/2008 13:42:31)
Shifting Shifting, sliding through the sands of time, I've been living lives that are not mine. Formless, shapeless, amorphous body; Boundless, endless, always-searching mind. When will I settle on, When will I stumble on, When will I decide on A way to live this life?

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/17/2008 10:30:59)
Drop Drip-drop. I hear the rain. Drip-drop. This shattered pane: Drip-drop. A mirror to Drip-drop. My soul for you. Drop, fall. I feel the wet Drop, fall. Splash on my neck. Drop, fall. As did my tears Drop, fall. Over the years. Fall down. Onto the ground. Fall down. You hear the sound? Fall down. That's me you hear. Fall down. With me, my dear.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/20/2008 12:01:43)
Black Monday King Born in a back alley, On a dark day, in a dark town. Rested his head on stone, Only blanket was the cold ground. Learned from the school of life; His lessons were how to survive. No kindness or conscience Were there to make him feel alive. His teachers and his books Were common sense, intuition. And every scrap of food Was the bounty of a mission. He learned how to stand knocks, How best to flee and when to fight. Circles around his eyes Were as the pitch-black of midnight. A rebel with a cause, He had his own justice and law. The mandate he'd defend Was dominance of tooth-and-claw. He'd eyes like sharpened blades, And on his face was a wild grin. 'Twas service with a smile As he would gladly do you in. For twenty hard-knock years He lived like a feral creature. But he had steel-hard wit; He could orate like a preacher. The rabble he did rouse, He could train them up like soldiers. Lived like a feudal lord; He stood on hundreds of shoulders. No prison and no cage, No manacle or shackle would Keep him in for too long, For he wore shadows like a hood. Like Robin of Loxley, Or the count of Monte Cristo, He soared from rock bottom; It was from ashes that he rose. Never yet read a book, Yet he could talk philosophy. He'd visions in his dreams, He saw what others could not see. Studied economy; He was shrewd like a business-man, But never cared for cash, Learned to help all those that he can. And now he takes his throne; With joy a million voices ring. All singing to the praise Of he, the new Black Monday King!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/27/2008 12:42:22)
On Top A dirt-crusted coat, A will to float In this stormy sea Of economy. All in my pocket Is one gold ducat. Only thing besides Is a knowledge of tides. But I'll be on top, Then I'll never stop For anyone, Or anything, Ever again. I'm down in the world, On ground I've been hurled. Yet somehow, I'll live Being pressed and sieved. Some drink down sorrow, Others give out blows; I could drown in gin; But I won't give in. And I'll be on top, Then I'll never stop For anyone, Or anything, Ever again.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/27/2008 12:43:23)
Night Of My Soul I've been living my life Trying to find ways to relate to Songs that weren't meant for me. But if they're not for me, then who? I need to find a way So that I can finally say All the things in my soul. It's time for me to pay the toll. Been borrowing old words Such as "To fly free like a bird"; All the clichés I've heard. Clipping my wings with things absurd. Though, maybe sometime soon I'll manage to finally write The thoughts I have each night As I lay 'neath the writer's moon.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired \| Cow Face's Poetry (10/27/2008 13:37:45)
Compassion Lost Why is it I have ceased to feel? Have I lost track of what is real? Have feelings been left on a shelf? I'm thinking about my damn self! What happened to my compassion, My sympathy and my taction? Have I lost my sense of being? What is it that I'm not seeing? Is it that I have ceased to care, Perhaps that part of me's not there? Can I yet be called a human When my soul's become a bastion? If I grieve for compassion lost, Will someone hear in the star-crossed And plagued existence we call life? ...Or is it only with pain rife?

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/7/2008 11:05:48)
As Lovely As A What? Narcissus' Poem I think that I shall never see A poem as lovely as a frog. ...Or is it "As lovely as a log?" Perhaps "As lovely as a dog?" I can't remember it, ah me! Oh no! Alas! Oh Lord! Oh dear! I cannot remember the rhyme. Was it "As lovely as the times?" "Lovely as a world without crime?" I've really botched it now, I fear. My memory, it seems, repents, For here's the poem I write to thee: "I think that I shall never see A poem that's as lovely as me." That must be it; it makes most sense!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/10/2008 11:01:45)
[Author's Note: Some people were complaining that my poems are too cynical, that they don't express enough hope. I disagreed, noting that my poems were generally meant to be incendiary calls to action. However, in response to their arguments, I wrote the following poem.] Could Be Worse! I'm moving in, taking all my gear. I think I'm going to enjoy it here! I could sleep for a day or a year- This prison cell's more than it appears. They told me that I would rot in jail; Well, it's not Heaven, but it's not Hell! This doesn't seem a bad place to dwell. I really think that I'll like this cell. Got some privacy, a place to sleep, They give me all the gruel I can eat! It's not too dirty, but it's not too neat. And the guy here with me, he's real sweet. There's a lot to be said for room and board, The rent is real easy to afford. They've got a big old gym, real steel doors, A scenic view of the warden's Ford. It's not too damp, not overly dry. It's fun to hang with the other guys. The gray walls are easy on the eyes. I think I'll love this place, by and by! At least I'm not laying on a hearse. Come now, is this really such a curse? Is this the end? No, it's a new first. Just remember that it could be worse!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/11/2008 16:00:25)
Thanks Given On wind-swept plains Seeded with grain, Down comes the rain. Life starts again. Out has burned the fire. No more blazing pyres Scorch the sleeping shire; No more crops expire. One low note rings across The land with wet dew glossed: Not mourning what was lost, Nor despair so star-crossed. Nor bemoaning land barren, It does not Heaven chasten. It knows life has now begun; It rings out with thanks given.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/18/2008 15:14:09)
Vista, Vista I woke up in the morning with a smile on my face. I thought, "Today's the day my dreams'll go into space!" I started my new PC And made a cup of tea. While it was warming up, I thought about old XP: All the fun times that we had, and what it meant to me. Well now there's Windows Vista, Like XP's younger sister. Oh, Vista, Vista, why'd you have to, why'd you have to suck? You make me wonder that perhaps Bill Gates is just a schmuck. I clicked upon a program and was feeling very proud. But then I found out that only Admins were allowed. That seemed rather weird to me; Only I'm on my HP. I checked my account to make sure I was on "Owner," 'Cause that's an Administrator account, to be sure. Yeah, that's the only user On my entire computer. Oh, Vista, Vista, why'd you have to, why'd you have to suck? You really make me want to run you over with a truck. I found out that you have to run it as an Admin. But the dumb computer wouldn't let the program in. "Yes, it can use my PC, I'm the one that clicked it, see?" "Well, okay," I thought, "maybe Vista's not 'epic win.' Maybe I'll take a break and just play some Morrowind." Oh, alas, it didn't work! Vista is a stupid jerk! Oh, Vista, Vista, why'd you have to, why'd you have to suck? You make me want to use you as a frozen hockey puck. A fro-o-o-zen hockey puck!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/19/2008 17:19:02)
[My first ever collaboration. This was with .Discipline! My lines are in blue, and .Discipline's are in purple. Original Song] I Love Baroque And Roll! I didst see him dancing there by the minstrels' bowl, I knew him by his powdered wig and mole, The lute was going strong, Verily, 'twould not be long, 'Till he was besideth thee, proclaiming... I'm fond of Baroque and Roll! So add another coin to the bard's hat, madam! I have affection for Baroque and Roll! Not polka, folk or other tunes! I asked, "Goodman, what is thy name?" That matters not, he said, 'tis all quite similar. Said, "I can take thou to thy place of abidance." And proceeding that we were displaced, Our persons were together. And soon we were verily displaced, Our persons were together, proclaiming... I express liking for baroque and roll! Do thou add a ducat to the minstrel's cap, foundling! I prefer baroque and roll! So take a bit of time and waltz with me! I decreed 'May I visit your place of residence'? And we shall be traveling, Concerting a similar melody... I hold dear Baroque and Roll! So flick a doubloon in the pianist's direction! I esteem Baroque and Roll! So verily I jig along with thee!

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/20/2008 14:54:57)
World Through A Prism Dawn awakes the sleeping planet: A crown of gold adorns the sea, A crest of waves like crystal glass; Nature's wild, untarnished beauty. The streetlights soon all flicker off, Metal beasts begin their commute To metal hives of metal lives Which does the wild beauty pollute. Noon high upon the wakened world: 'Cross the land blow gentle breezes, That which before, all soon must wear, That which gives life to dancing leaves. The roaring noise echoes across; The noise that is known as "progress." The metal beasts of metal hives Give the land a fest'ring abscess. Night wraps her cloak around the orb: As the Small Ones go to their rest, The others come to play at life, They have, for now, been well redressed. The metal beasts for now have ceased Their quest for beauty to annul. Going to rest now is the world For which we should all be grateful.

Cow Face -> RE: Think, Question, Repeat If Desired (11/21/2008 12:39:57)
A System of Chaos Madness, stark and empty. Order, not to be found. Virtue, long departed. Depravity, all 'round. Our culture brought it here, We cultivated it. Uselessness keeps it still- The bomb that we have lit. Rampant ineptitude. Abiding insanity. Unchecked incompetence. Wild inability. What happened to concern? Have we lost all pathos? The structure now in place: Systematic Chaos.

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