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Life is not accountable to us. We are accountable to life.

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Held Accountable

We all are held accountable
On the things we do in our life
From the deeds we do, and the words we say
And from the actions that we leave behind.
As our paths they cannot be forgotten
Nor the walks or the steps we have taken
And the things we done or felt or said
They will become the future that we have been making.
As a rock that is tossed into the ocean
And as it hits upon it’s surface
The ripple effect for that rock has began
Then later we will see its effect and its purpose.
And we too are all held accountable
As that is the way that it should be,
From the things we done and the words we said
As that will become part of our history.

We all are held accountable
For our endeavors that became our past
And should we not also be made to stand up and own
All our actions and deeds that formed and shaped our life.
We must stand up and accept our past
As that is the way that it truly should be
So we can't run or even hide away
Like life, that is our destiny.
As one day we all will be held accountable
From the deeds and actions that we have done
So we must be prepared to accept them all
As like from death, from it we cannot run.
So watch the steps that you do take
And think closely on the path you do choose
As that will be the destiny you chose for yourself
And one day it will come back to visit you.

Randy L. McClave

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Accountability

All men will be accountable, from the wisest man to the lowest fool,
Accountable to God, our Creator, and His Son who came as Savior.
Some men to a greater degree, who were exposed to Truth regularly,
Less for those who never heard, the regular teaching of God’s Word.

But all men will face accountability, to The Lord and God of Eternity.
Everyone on earth shall ultimately, confess to God on bended knee,
What they knew about Jesus Christ, as they reflect back on their life.
Saddened from choices they made, as their past before them is laid.

This fact will be especially true, of men Born Again, like me and you,
Who from Christ above received, The Holy Spirit when they believed.
The Spirit we received from God, helps us live on this earth we trod,
Living our life different from, the fallen past from where we’ve come.

Living our life to bring Glory to, The Lord, who died for me and you,
Christ died to take away our sin, so that we can live our life for Him.
This life we live, isn’t on our own, but in the power of God’s Throne,
Who sent His Son to show men how, we can live life, here and now.

Accountability is so that we grow, and from our life Christ will show,
While we are accountable to God, Christ leads us with staff and rod,
This as He uses our accountability, in ways which count for Eternity,
Gaining for believers eternal reward, when we live for Christ our Lord.

(Copyright ©06/2007)

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This president has been reluctant to hold anybody accountable. No one was held accountable after September the 11th. Nobody's been held accountable after the clear flaws in intelligence leading up to the war in Iraq.

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Bad Side Of The Moon

(bernie taupin/elton john)
Published by songs of polygram international - bmi
Seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
It seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
There aint no need for watchdogs here, to justify our ways
We lived our lives in manacles, the main cause of our stay
And exiled here from other worlds, my sentence comes to soon
Why should I be made to pay on the bad side of the moon
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life

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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

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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:

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Bishop Blougram's Apology

No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.

So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.

[...] Read more

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Acting As If Having An Intelligence

It took me awhile,
To understand those...
Who saw life in denial.
But as I thought about them...
And being mentally conditioned myself,
To accept limitations...
With an acting as if having an intelligence,
Would actually offend others?
I completely understand now,
Why so many accept staying ignorant.

Trying to impress with a thought process offends.
You see...
This is what I've come to understand,
Life becomes less challenging...
When those 'known' to be ignorant,
Are not held accountable for their actions.
And those who are labelled 'intelligent'...
Are expected to be responsible AND accountable,
For 'everything' those who choose to see life in denial...
With the doing of the most 'stupidest' things to be excused.

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Snobbery

A solitary rose in red attire
Condescended:
A fleeting glance -
She apprehended
My affections,
Turned away
From me, a stray -

Stubble weed -
Genes to build an oddity:
Common seed -
Happy-go-lucky entity
In dull array.

The rose glowered,
But in ascension
Slipped a view of blight
Upon her regal greenery:
Black spot!

In all her bold perfumery
And blushing flower,
The sheen of vulnerability in jet
Reminded me how snobbery
And haughty shower
Tarnish with an underlying debt!

She wavered in her shallow play -
Man-bred -
Hardiness foregone.

The rose no longer shone.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
From: Poetry Rivals 2010 - A New Dawn Breaks
Forward Press


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That person has to be accountable for himself. I think that's what we have to do in society today is to be accountable for yourself. I think we have the tendency to always want to live someone else's life.

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Innuendo, Gossip 'And' LIES!

Isn't it easy for you to sit and criticize?
With nothing you do to be held accountable to.
With no responsibility...
But to approve or disapprove as you choose.
And say what you like and dislike about others.
And who you have chosen to agonize and despise.
With innuendo, gossip and lies!

'Oh my...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' lies? '

That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!

'Ewww...
That's awful! '

Isn't it easy for you to sit and criticize?
Without one effort made to create and strategize.
And those all day and night sleepless work binges...
Could not approach or touch,
Your lazy appetite for life!

Since what you do best,
Is make attempts to initiate unrest!
With innuendo, gossip and lies!

'Oh my...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' lies? '

That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!

'Oh my...'

Isn't it easy for you to sit and criticize?
With nothing you do to be held accountable to.
With no responsibility...
But to approve or disapprove as you choose.
And say what you like and dislike about others.
And who you have chosen to agonize and despise.

'Don't say it!
Not with...'

Yep,
That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!

'Oh my...

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So Difficult It Becomes Not To Diminsh Life

A mind that compares but is not there,
To evaluate or self examine...
Can not be held accountable,
For a thought process...
Those conscious expect and take for granted.

And those who are conscious,
Have discovered too few prepared...
With an awareness that has awakened,
To appreciate the benefit and value...
Of that which they have as a gift to nourish,
The broadening concept of comprehension.

A mind that compares but is not there,
To evaluate or self examine...
Can not be held accountable,
For a thought process...
Those conscious expect and take for granted.

With the shining of bling and other things,
Bringing into the mix the teasing of temptation...
So difficult it becomes not to diminsh life,
As an opportunity to feed our selfish whims.
With a dismissing of others,
Who do not join in with the fleecing...
Of a weakened and dieing golden lamb.

'It is not a dead horse.
No need to beat it.'

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Keeping a lid on taxes is not just good for the taxpayer. It's a powerful way to force government to be more accountable, set priorities and spend smarter. Let me repeat that: more accountable, set priorities and spend smarter - that's what we need to be about.

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And they've got to be held accountable; our broadcasting system has to be made accountable; and unless it is, it's going to be very hard to change anything else for the better in this country.

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Why don't we call on the credit card companies to be accountable? They need to be held accountable for their predatory lending practices.

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We want to see Israel withdraw from our territory. But we don't want to be accountable vis-a-vis Israel on the security basis, because we don't see, in the absence of a peace agreement, that Lebanon can really be accountable to Israel if anything happens.

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Honesty Not

Isn't it funny that the ones that tell lies
are never accountable for their behavior
no matter what the size.
They can say lies about you
or they can deny what they know is true.
All to protect themselves from their bad deeds
but in with that they never grow and succeed;
Succeed at being accountable and mature-
they would rather blame it on you
and call you absurd.
Or they don't remember a thing
say it was in the past and you're the ding-aling.
Adding that they don't know what you are talking about
in the end they are the losers without a questionable doubt.

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To the people of world

Who are you to seek
Explanation from me
I am not accountable to you
For my deeds
I am not at your disposal
I am accountable to Almighty only
His benevolence may ignore my infimities
But you callous hearts
You narrow minded fellows
Stop your nonsense
And leave me alone.

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A Granting Of An Escape

When does it become one's duty,
To be held accountable for their own actions?
When does that border between,
Allowing one to locate excuses...
Separates that from one's denying,
Of making habitual mistakes...
To find fault to place blame on others,
With a granting of an escape.

When does it become one's duty,
To be held accountable for their own actions?
When does that border between,
Allowing one to locate excuses...
Separates that from one's denying,
Of making habitual mistakes.

And when will people awaken,
To discover their dishonesty...
Offers their children,
No respect or identity.
Or a dignity they pride for the rest of their lives.
What will it take...
For those with pretentions to have them erased?
More hiding places?
Or the appearance of guilty looks,
Adorning their pitiful faces?

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