DECLAMATION PIECES
"AM I TO BE BLAMED?"
They're chasing me, they're chasing, no they must not catch me, I have enough money now, yes enough for my starving mother and brothers.
Please let me go, let me go home before you imprisoned me. Very well, officers? take me to your headquarters. Good morning captain! no captain, you are mistaken, I was once a good girl, just like the rest of you here. Just like any of your daughters. But time was, when I was reared in slums. But we lived honestly, we lived honestly in life. My, father, mother, brothers, sisters and I. But then, poverty enters the portals of our home. My father became jobless, my mother got ill. The small savings that my mother had kept for our expenses were spent. All for our daily needs and her needed medicine.
One night, my father went out, telling us that he would come back in a few minutes with plenty of foods and money, but that was the last time I saw him. He went with another woman. If only I could lay my hands on his neck I would wring it without pain until he breaths no more. If you were in my place, you'll do it, won't you Captain? What? you won't still believe in me?. Come and I'll show you a dilapidated shanty by a railroad.
Mother, mother I'm home, mother? mother?!. There Captain, see my dead mother. Captain? there are tears in your eyes? now pack this stolen money and return it to the owner. What good would this do to my mother now? she's already gone! Do you hear me? she's already gone. Am I to be blamed for the things I have done?
"JUVENILE DELINQUENT"
Am I a juvenile delinquent? I'm a teenager, I'm young, young at heart in mind. In this position, I'm carefree, I enjoy doing nothing but to drink the wine of pleasure. I seldom go to school, nobody cares!. But instead you can see me roaming around. Standing at the nearby canto (street). Or else standing beside a jukebox stand playing the nerve tickling bugaloo.Those are the reasons, why people, you branded me delinquent, a juvenile delinquent.
My parents ignored me, my teachers sneered at me and my friends, they neglected me. One night I asked my mother to teach me how to appreciate the values in life. Would you care what she told me? "Stop bothering me! Can't you see? I had to dress up for my mahjong session, some other time my child". I turned to my father to console me, but, what a wonderful thing he told me. "Child, here's 500 bucks, get it and enjou yourself, go and ask your teachers that question".
And in school, I heard nothing but the echoes of the voices of my teachers torturing me with these words. "Why waste your time in studying, you can't even divide 100 by 5! Go home and plant sweet potatoes".
I may have the looks of Audrey Hepburn, the calmly voice of Nathalie Cole. But that's not what you can see in me. Here's a young girl who needs counsel to enlighten her way and guidance to strenghten her life into contentment.
Honorable judge, friends and teachers...is this the girl whom you commented a juvenile delinquent?.
"THE CHAMPION by Carman"
In the vast expanse of a timeless place
Where Silence ruled the outer space
Ominously towering it stood
The symbol of a spirit war
Between the one named Lucifer, and the Morningstar, the ultimate of good.
Enveloped by a trillion planets
Clean as lightning, and hard as granite
A cosmic coliseum would host the end,
Of the war between the lord of sin and death
And the omnipotent creator of man's first breath
Who will decide, who forever will be.....
The audience for the fight of the ages was assembled and in place.
The angels came in splendor from a star.
The saints that had gone before were there, Jeremiah, Enoch, Job.
They were singing the song of Zion on David's harp.
The demons arived, offensive and vile, cursing and blaspheming God
Followed by their trophies dead and gone.
Hitler, Napoleon, Pharoh, Capone, tormented, vexed, and grieved
And waiting for their judgment from the throne.
Then a chill swept through the mammoth crowd
And the demons squealed with glee
As a sorid, vulgar, repulsive essence was felt.
Arrogantly prancing, hands held high, draped in a sparkling shroud,
Trolled by demons, Satan ascended from Hell.
Then Satan cringed, the sinners groaned, the demons reeled in pain
As as swell of power like silent thunder rolled.
With a surge of light beyond intense illuminating the universe,
In resplendent glory appeared the Son of God.
Then a persona, yes, extraordinaire appeared in center ring.
God the Father will oversee the duel.
Opening the Book of Life, each grand stand hushed in awe
As majestically he said, "Now, here's the rules:
He'll be wounded for their transgressions, bruised for iniquities."
When he said, "By His stripes they're healed," the devil shook.
He said, "Sickness is my specialty - I hate that healing junk."
God said, "You shut your face - I wrote the book."
Then the Father looked at His only son and said,
"You know the rules. Your blood will cleanse their sin and calm their fears."
Then he pointed His finger at Satan and said,
"And I know you know the rules,
You've been twisting them to deceive my people for years."
Satan cried, "I'll kill you Christ! You will never win this fight."
The demons wheezed, "That's right, there ain't no way."
Satan jeered, "You're dead meat Jesus, I'm gonna bust you up tonight."
Jesus said, "Go ahead, make my day!"
The bell, the crowd, the fight was on, and the Devil leaped in fury.
With all his evil tricks he came undone.
He threw his jabs of hate and lust, a stab of pride and envy,
But the hands that knew no sin blocked every one.
Forty days and nights they fought and Satan couldn't touch Him.
Now the final blow saved for the final round.
Prophetically Christ's hands came down and Satan struck in vengeance.
The blow of death fell Jesus to the ground.
The devils roared in victory, the saints shocked and perplexed
As wounds appeared upon His hands and feet.
The Satan kicked Him in His side and blood and water flowed
And they waited for the ten count of defeat.
God the Father turned His head. His tears announcing Christ was dead.
The ten count would proclaim the battle's end.
The Satan trembled through his sweat in unexpected horror yet,
As God started the count by saying, "...10..."
Hey wait a minute God,
"...9..."
Stop, you're counting wrong,
"...8..."
His eyes are moving...
"...7..."
His fingers are twitching...
"...6..."
Where's all this light coming from...
"...5..."
He's alive
"...4..."
Oh no...
"...3...2..."
Oh yes
He has won!
He has won!
He's alive forevermore, He is risen, He is Lord.
He has won!
He has won!
He's alive forevermore, He has risen, He is Lord.
Proclain the news in every tongue, through endless ages and beyond.
Let it be voiced from mountains loud and strong,
Captivity has been set free, salvation bought for you and me,
Cause Satan is defeated and Jesus is THE CHAMPION!
O Captain My Captain by Walt Whitman
O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
"GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY"
Anonymous
He stood at the bar of justice; creature wan and wirld, in form too small for a man, in feature too old for a child, but he stood so worn and pathetic -- 'twas stamped on his pale young face. It seemed long years of sufferings must have left a silent trace. "I will tell you just how it was, sir. My father and mother are dead, and my little brothers and sisters were hungry and asked me for bread. At first I earned it for them by working hard all day, but somehow the times were hard, sir, adn teh work fell all away. I could get no more employment. The weather was bitter cold and the young ones cried and shivered; little Johnny's but four eyars old.
so, what was I to do, sir? I'm guilty, but not condemned. I got, oh was it stealing the bread to give to them?" Every man in the courtroom graybeard, and thoughtless youth knew as they looked upon him that hte prisoner spoke the truth. Out from their pockets came kerchiefs, out from their eyes sprang tears; and out from the old faded wallets treasures hoarded for years.
"Your name?" said the judge as he eyed him wiht kindly look at kin: "Is... Mark McGuire, if you please, sir".
"And your age"
"I'm turned fifteen."
"Well, Mark", and then from a paper he slowly and gravely read, "You are charged here, I am sorry to say it, with stealing three loaves of bread. You look not like an offender and I hope that you will show the charge of stealing three loaves of bread to be false. Now tell me are you guilty of htis or no?". A passionate burst of weeping was at first his sole reply; and he dried his tears in a moment then looked at the judge's eyes.
** I feel it is a bit short of drama if you end here, so perhaps you can add more lines for the boy and perhaps the last line can be... "Sir, I ask you, am I guilty or not guilty?"
Casablanca
Anonymous
There was a great battle at sea. Once could hear nothing but hte roars of the big guns. The air was filled with black smoke. The waster was strewn with broken masts and pieces of tmiber, which the canon balls had knocked from the ships. Many men had been killed, and many more had been wounded.
The flagship had taken frire. Teh flames ewere breakin out from below. The deck was ablaze. The men who were left alive made haste to launch a small boat. The leaped into it, and rowed swiftly away. Any other place was safer now than on board of the burning ship. There was powder in the hold.
But hte captain's son. young Casablanca, still stood upon the deck. The flames were almost all around him now but he would not stir from his post. His father had bidden him stand there, and he had been taught always to obey. He trusted in his father's word, and believed that when the right time came, he would tell him to go.
He saw the men leap into the boat. He heard them call to him to come. He shook his head.
"When father bids me, I will go", he said.
And now, the flames were leapin gup the masts. The sails were all ablaze. The fire blew hot upon his cheek. It scorched his hair. It was before him, behind all around him.
"O Father," he cried, "may I not go now? The men have all lef thte ship. Is it not the time that we, too, should leave it?"
He did not knwo that his father was lying in the burning cabin below, that a cannon ball had struck him at the very beginning of the fight. He listened to hear his answer.
"Speak louder, Fahter," he cried, "I cannot hear what you say".
Above the roaring of hte flames, above hte crashing of the fallin gspars, above the booming of the guns, he fancied that his father's voice came faitnly to him through the scorching air.
"I am hre, Father. Speak once again," he gasped.
A great flasho of light fills the air; clouds of smoke shoot quickly upward to the sky and ---
BOOM!
Oh, what a terrific sound. Louder than thunder, louder than the roar of all gusn. The air quivers: the see itself trembles; the sky is black. The blazing ship is seen no more. There was powder in the hold
ORATION PIECES
"Despair of Judas"
I will rest here, awhile. His face! His face! Not comely now. There is no beauty in it. It is scarred into my heart. It is burned into my soul and never will it lift from me until I die. Die? Will death quench the flames which consume me? Traitor, not endless years in hell can even pay the crime of murdering the son of God.
And last night, he dealt with me so gently. He washed my feet. He bade me to put my hand into the cup with his, while in my purse there jingled the coins which bought his blood. It was better for that man that he had never been born. Who? Who but I, who but I, I who betrayed him!
“What you do, do it quickly.” He knew, and kept my sin a secret.
“Friend, where unto have you come, Judas, Judas, do you betray the Son of God with a kiss?”
Friend! Friend! He called me his friend. The man I betrayed called me his friend. How hell must have laughed. Why did not the mountains fall on me?
Why did not the earth gape and swallow me up? Why did not the sea overwhelm me? Friend. Ha! Ha! Friend. Ha! Ha! Ha! The world will know Judas as the friend.
The world will point to Judas as a by word, and as a pledge of broken faith!
Do you think Judas you can hide from the father of your friend Jesus? Not even in hell can I escape. Not in the grave for the earth will spurn my corpse. Not in the heavens for Jesus the friend is there.
What hope for Judas? What hope for Judas? Not even in hell can I escape for he called me devil, and devils cried out: torment us not, Jesus, Judas, faithless friend, devil, one of whom it would have been better not to have been born. There is no hope for you, no hope, no hope…
