For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For the Apostles’ glorious company,
Who bearing forth the Cross o’er land and sea,
Shook all the mighty world, we sing to Thee:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For the Evangelists, by whose blest word,
Like fourfold streams, the garden of the Lord,
Is fair and fruitful, be Thy Name adored.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For Martyrs, who with rapture kindled eye,
Saw the bright crown descending from the sky,
And seeing, grasped it, Thee we glorify.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
All are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true and bold,
Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
And win with them the victor’s crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
And hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of glory passes on His way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
And singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

A TRiUMPhant new president, great Rock'n'Roll, war in the streets, celebrating constitutional citizenry and NO ONE posting journal entries here at Song Meanings?

My goodness - what happened?

Did they up all of your meds or something?

Hey all you SongMeanies -

Did you VOTE today?

I voted for the Empire and the empire WILL expand.

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2016/11/08/vibrant-populist-poetry/

The oil lamp cast its noble glow,
while shadows darkened all around,
on leaders in the global know
whose darkness by its light was found.

Just then, the lantern's leaky wick
flared up. The whole benighted place
ignited like a Wiki-Leak
inflaming each tyrannic face.

The Media pitched their low-ball gloss
and tried to polish up the mess
by spinning such a global loss
as sure electoral success.

♥ ⛧ ☭  ⚧ ♥ ✿ ⚢⛧★ ⚥ ♥

Trump's nemesis beamed from the stage
while she simmered with well-suppressed rage.
Their unkind dialectic
seemed purely synthetic;
results will be harder to gauge.

y'all come on over visit sometime !

There was a cold limerick one time
whose rick was cut off from its lime.
While not quite a Lime Ricky,
its flavor was tricky
and sacrificed taste to the rhyme.

No joke. I am elated.
I got published in New Yorker!

From the August 29 article
Donald Trump, Poetic Muse:

While some poets are tentatively positive (“Call me a chump / But I’m with Trump”), the vast majority register negative reactions to Trump and his candidacy. These include shock (“Today I woke up and smoked / A cigarette of something illegal / And I freaked out / Because / Donald Trump is running for president”); scatological disdain (“Trump dumped on his rump / Hair lumped in a clump”); determined opposition (“We must now thwart the hatred”); escapism (“If Trump wins / I’m moving to Iceland / While he wreaks havoc on the states / I’ll be in Reykjavik eating steak”); and cleverly rhymed condescension (“The mallard was rebuked by Mitt; / adversaries began to bray. / The ducklings murmured: guy’s unfit / to be elected anyway”). 

The article continues, and quoted me again here:

Not all the poems about the Presidential candidates pick a side. One, called “Dual Airbags,” simply bemoans the choice at hand:
“It’s a bitter pill (more like pilloried) / So shall we now be Trumped or Hillary-ed?”

Both poem quotes were taken from my Hello Poetry site.

(Hey Song Meanings - wouldn't you like to get bigged up like Hello Poetry got? See if you can become as user-friendly as they are !)

If you don't like poetry,
you can kiss my assurance of lyrical satisfaction.
Best wishes, NomadMonad ☺

W.H. Auden (1907-1973)

As I walked out one evening,

   Walking down Bristol Street,

The crowds upon the pavement

   Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river

   I heard a lover sing

Under an arch of the railway:

   ‘Love has no ending.

‘I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you

   Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

   And the salmon sing in the street,

‘I’ll love you till the ocean

   Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

   Like geese about the sky.

‘The years shall run like rabbits,

   For in my arms I hold

The Flower of the Ages,

   And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city

   Began to whirr and chime:

‘O let not Time deceive you,

   You cannot conquer Time.

‘In the burrows of the Nightmare

   Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

   And coughs when you would kiss.

‘In headaches and in worry

   Vaguely life leaks away,

And Time will have his fancy

   To-morrow or to-day.

‘Into many a green valley

   Drifts the appalling snow;

Time breaks the threaded dances

   And the diver’s brilliant bow.

‘O plunge your hands in water,

   Plunge them in up to the wrist;

Stare, stare in the basin

   And wonder what you’ve missed.

‘The glacier knocks in the cupboard,

   The desert sighs in the bed,

And the crack in the tea-cup opens

   A lane to the land of the dead.

‘Where the beggars raffle the banknotes

   And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,

And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,

   And Jill goes down on her back.

‘O look, look in the mirror,

   O look in your distress:

Life remains a blessing

   Although you cannot bless.

‘O stand, stand at the window

   As the tears scald and start;

You shall love your crooked neighbour

   With your crooked heart.’

It was late, late in the evening,

   The lovers they were gone;

The clocks had ceased their chiming,

   And the deep river ran on.

READ all ABOUT IT !

We paint your breeding world as queer
and every man a closet queen.
Your days like Noah’s now appear…
our King arrives to crown the scene.

Oh Father of progressive souls
whose neo-pagan mercy reigns,
bring union to fragmented wholes
as lovers rattle rainbow-chains.

We’re clubbing with the scribes of sex
(our fairy-dusted lying press)
who pay out cash for background checks
while prying more and praying less.

The starry heavens twinkle gay
and rainbows end in gold, you know).
To see it any other way
would harsh our high and end the show…

Your family paradigm descends
upon the Roman road to hell
where reproductive reason ends
in demographic show-and-tell.

God’s wisdom pleads in vain. What’s life
when mobs are primed for anarchy –
assaulting yet again Lot’s wife
in Sodom’s dead democracy.