The Meeting Place
Meet you in the secret place
Scuffling in the dirt I wait
Whistle will blow, whistle will blow,
Share a joke the laughs on me
But when I get you on your own well see
Someone might hear, someone might hear
Youre a working girl now
Youve got money of your own
Hmmm the meeting place
Hmmm the meeting place
Strolling under grimey skies
Machines that make you kiss in time
Smoke on your breath, smoke on your breath
Chimney never looked so good
Never looked the way it should
From lying in the bracken wood
Coat on the ground, coat on the ground
Take a walk down the lane
Well be late back again
Hmmm the meeting place
Hmmm the meeting place
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I Love This Bar
We got winners,
We got losers,
Chain-smokers and boozers,
We got yuppies,
We got bikers,
We got thirsty hitch-hikers,
And the girls next store dress-up like movie stars.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
We got cowboys,
We got truckers,
Broken-hearted fools and suckers,
And we got hustlers,
We got fighters,
Early-birds and all-nighters,
And the veterans talk about their battle scars.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
I love this bar,
It's my kind of place,
Just walkin through the front door,
Puts a big smile on my face,
It ain't too far,
Come as your are.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
I've seen short skirts,
We've got high-techs,
Blue-collared boys and rednecks,
And we got lovers,
Lots of lookers,
I've even seen dancing girls and hookers.
And we like to drink our beer from a mason jar.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar. (Yes I do)
Toby: I like my truck.
Crowd: I like my truck.
Toby: And I like my girlfriend.
Crowd: I like my girlfriend.
Toby: I like to take her out to dinner, I like a movie now and then.
But I love this bar,
It's my kind of place,
Just toein around the dance floor,
Puts a big smile on my face,
No cover charge,
Come as you are.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I just love this old bar.
song performed by Toby Keith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Whistle by Flo-Rida
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby (ohh baby ohh baby poooo)
Let me know
Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Here we go
I'm betting you like bebop
And I'm betting you love creep mode
And I'm betting you like girls that give love to girls
And stroke your little ego
I bet you're guilty your honor
But that's how we live in my genre
When I hell I pay the rottweiler
There's only one flo, and one rida
I'm a damn shame
Order more champagne, pull a damn hamstring
Tryna put it on ya
Bet your lips spin back around corner
Slow it down baby take a little longer
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Let me know
Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Here we go
Whistle baby, whistle baby,
Whistle baby, whistle baby
It's like everywhere I go
My whistle ready to blow
Shorty don't leave a note
She can get any by the low
Permission not approved
It's okay, it's under control
Show me soprano, cause girl you can handle
Baby we start snagging, you come in part clothes
Girl I'm losing wing, my bucatti the same road
Show me your perfect pitch,
You got it my banjo
Talented with your lips, like you blew out candles
So amusing, now you can make a whistle with the music
Hope you ain't got no issue, you can do it
Give me the perfect picture, never lose it
[...] Read more
poem by Shi Yelami
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Blow Your Whistle
PETEY PABLO - Blow Your Whistle
[Intro:]
Hey hey! Everybody come here, I need all y'all to come over here
Come here come here, yeah, I want you to do this, come on
[Chorus:] [2x]
Blow ya whistle! Blow ya whistle!
Blow ya whistles for me y'all!
I said if you wanna bizzle then you can let a nizzle
to blow ya whistle from Petey Pizzle to come on anda...
[Verse 1:]
I can do anything and everything with new flows
Then take this Manny track and tear the game a new asshole
Me and my do-rag half man, with two black hoes
How in the world could it do this, I be so damn cold
I got a rabbit foot in my pocket, uh huh
Come on I needed the other part of the rabbit
To fill up a pocket, I gotta major problem partna
So that means I don't need to be bothered for nada
Um, feel me dogga
My head hot, uh huh, and my body warm
Uh huh, my nose runnin, could you close the door, uh huh
Letting out all granted and goodies sweet G's and deviled eggs
Boiled tater to goat cheese
Y'all don't even remember me
I'm Petey - take ya shirt off Carolina from Greenborough
But what Petey needs to see this evening
You can keep your shirt on - we gon' use these
[Chorus:]
Blow ya whistle! Blow ya whistle!
Blow ya whistles for me y'all!
I said if you wanna bizzle then you can let a nizzle
to blow ya whistle from Petey Pizzle to come on anda...
[Verse 2:]
I tell ya when I come runnin head down, but naw
But naw, y'all ain't hit me
So I guess I had to ahead hit ya with something that could grip yo attention
That make ya yell at ya kids from the kitchen
What put that whistle down! But Petey on tv
Damn it Petey, ya heard what I say
I just love it when I could take a track and have me some fun
Get footloose, and still can put the club on crunk
Make a girl butt bump [ba bum], make a party go crazy, [ba bum]
When the first two bumps come on [ba bum]
I'ma have some, I'm telling ya mayne
I'm the new spokesman for gas grills and propane
When I wrote this I had to wear shades
I had to wear rubber gloves to get this today
Manny Fresh's CD player wasn't even playin
Man we need a fire truck, where my whistle at baby
[Chorus:]
[...] Read more
song performed by Petey Pablo
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete
I.
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.
'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.
We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.
Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.
Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.
II.
[...] Read more
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Salut Au Monde
O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended links, each hook'd to the next!
Each answering all--each sharing the earth with all.
What widens within you, Walt Whitman?
What waves and soils exuding?
What climes? what persons and lands are here?
Who are the infants? some playing, some slumbering?
Who are the girls? who are the married women?
Who are the groups of old men going slowly with their arms about each
other's necks?
What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these?
What are the mountains call'd that rise so high in the mists?
What myriads of dwellings are they, fill'd with dwellers?
Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens;
Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east--America is provided for in the
west;
Banding the bulge of the earth winds the hot equator,
Curiously north and south turn the axis-ends;
Within me is the longest day--the sun wheels in slanting rings--it
does not set for months;
Stretch'd in due time within me the midnight sun just rises above the
horizon, and sinks again;
Within me zones, seas, cataracts, plants, volcanoes, groups,
Malaysia, Polynesia, and the great West Indian islands.
What do you hear, Walt Whitman?
I hear the workman singing, and the farmer's wife singing;
I hear in the distance the sounds of children, and of animals early
in the day;
I hear quick rifle-cracks from the riflemen of East Tennessee and
Kentucky, hunting on hills;
I hear emulous shouts of Australians, pursuing the wild horse;
I hear the Spanish dance, with castanets, in the chestnut shade, to
the rebeck and guitar;
I hear continual echoes from the Thames;
I hear fierce French liberty songs;
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musical recitative of old
poems;
I hear the Virginia plantation-chorus of negroes, of a harvest night,
in the glare of pine-knots;
I hear the strong baritone of the 'long-shore-men of Mannahatta;
I hear the stevedores unlading the cargoes, and singing;
I hear the screams of the water-fowl of solitary north-west lakes;
I hear the rustling pattering of locusts, as they strike the grain
and grass with the showers of their terrible clouds;
I hear the Coptic refrain, toward sundown, pensively falling on the
[...] Read more
poem by Walt Whitman
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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
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Melt With You
Moving forward using all my breath
Making love to you was never second best
I saw the world thrashing all around your face
Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace
I'll stop the world and melt with you
You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time
There's nothing you and I won't do
I'll stop the world and melt with you
You should know better
Dream of better lives the kind which never hate
You should see why
Dropped in the state of imaginary grace
You should know better
I made a pilgrimage to save this humans race
You should see why
What I'm comprehending a race that was long gone by
I'll stop the world and melt with you (let's stop the world)
You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time
There's nothing you and I won't do (Let's stop the world)
I'll stop the world and melt with you
The future's open wide (The future's open wide)
The future's open wide
hmmm hmmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm
I'll stop the world and melt with you (Let's stop the world)
You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time
There's nothing you and I won't do (Let's stop the world)
I'll stop the world and melt with you (Let's stop the world)
I'll stop the world and melt with you (Let's stop the world)
I'll stop the world and melt with you (Let's stop the world)
You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time
There's nothing you and I won't do (Let's stop the world)
I'll stop the world and melt with you (Let's stop the world)
I'll stop the world
I'll stop the world
song performed by Jason Mraz
Added by Lucian Velea
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Girlzilla
Baby Girl, Glamour Girl, Strawberry Girl struts
Candy Girl, Sexy Girl, Bossy Girl fuss
Gansta Girl, Dream Girl, Independent Girl shops
Virtuous Girl, Glitter Girl, Hot Girl pops
Cover Girl, Naughty Girl, Jazzy Girl sings
Phat Girl, Ghetto Girl, Bling Girl blings
Sassy Girl, Cool Girl, Girly Girl rocks
Mama's Girl, Daddy's Girl, Wild Girl stocks
Strong Girl, Sister Girl, Church Girl preach
Flower Girl, Black Girl, American Girl reach
Thick Girl, School Girl, Smart Girl moves
Bad Girl, Spoiled Girl, Bitchy Girl grooves
God's Girl, Quiet Girl, Sweet Girl blessed
Beautiful Girl, Young Girl, Talented Girl impressed
Prom Girl, City Girl, Business Girl works
Play Girl, Outgoing Girl, Dance Girl tworks
Lavish Girl, Promiscuous Girl, Anonymous Girl rolls
Country Girl, Island Girl, Bobby V's Girl controls
poem by Top Notch Glamorous Thick Chick
Added by Poetry Lover
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Three Women
My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.
Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.
Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.
Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.
1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.
Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,
[...] Read more
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Columbiad: Book III
The Argument
Actions of the Inca Capac. A general invasion of his dominions threatened by the mountain savages. Rocha, the Inca's son, sent with a few companions to offer terms of peace. His embassy. His adventure with the worshippers of the volcano. With those of the storm, on the Andes. Falls in with the savage armies. Character and speech of Zamor, their chief. Capture of Rocha and his companions. Sacrifice of the latter. Death song of Azonto. War dance. March of the savage armies down the mountains to Peru. Incan army meets them. Battle joins. Peruvians terrified by an eclipse of the sun, and routed. They fly to Cusco. Grief of Oella, supposing the darkness to be occasioned by the death of Rocha. Sun appears. Peruvians from the city wall discover Roch an altar in the savage camp. They march in haste out of the city and engage the savages. Exploits of Capac. Death of Zamor. Recovery of Rocha, and submission of the enemy.
Now twenty years these children of the skies
Beheld their gradual growing empire rise.
They ruled with rigid but with generous care,
Diffused their arts and sooth'd the rage of war,
Bade yon tall temple grace their favorite isle,
The mines unfold, the cultured valleys smile,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And rear imperial Cusco to the sky;
Wealth, wisdom, force consolidate the reign
From the rude Andes to the western main.
But frequent inroads from the savage bands
Lead fire and slaughter o'er the labor'd lands;
They sack the temples, the gay fields deface,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
The king, undaunted in defensive war,
Repels their hordes, and speeds their flight afar;
Stung with defeat, they range a wider wood,
And rouse fresh tribes for future fields of blood.
Where yon blue ridges hang their cliffs on high,
And suns infulminate the stormful sky,
The nations, temper'd to the turbid air,
Breathe deadly strife, and sigh for battle's blare;
Tis here they meditate, with one vast blow,
To crush the race that rules the plains below.
Capac with caution views the dark design,
Learns from all points what hostile myriads join.
And seeks in time by proffer'd leagues to gain
A bloodless victory, and enlarge his reign.
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
In early youth, ere yet the ripening sun
Had three short lustres o'er his childhood run,
The prince had learnt, beneath his father's hand,
The well-framed code that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,
[...] Read more
poem by Joel Barlow
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III. The Other Half-Rome
Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!
There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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What A Difference Youve Made
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made
In my life.
What a change you have made in my heart.
What a change you have made in my heart.
You replaced all the broken parts.
Oh, what a change you have made
In my heart.
Love to me was just a word in a song
That had been way overused.
But you gave love a meaning,
So I joined in the singing,
Thats why I wanna spread the news.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made,
(what a difference youve made,)
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
What a difference youve made in my life.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(youre my sunshine day and night.)
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(difference youve made in my life.)
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a difference in me.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a change in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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Youre So Good For Me
If you were an apple
I would take a bite
If you were a lemon
I would squeeze you tight
Youre so good Ive got to have you
Youre so good that nothing else matters
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good for me
If you were a penny
Youd be good as good
If you were a snowball
I would love the cold
cause youre so good Ive got to have you
Youre so good that nothing else matters
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good for me
If you were a candle
I would light your fire
And if you were hot labor
I would never tire
cause youre so good Ive got to have you
Youre so good that nothing else matters
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good for me
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good
Youre so good for me
Youre so good
1: if you were an apple, I would take a bite.
If you were a lemon, I would squeeze you tight.
Chorus: youre so good Ive got to have you.
Youre so good, that nothing else a-matters.
Youre so good, youre so good, youre so good for me.
2: if you were a penny, youd be good as good.
A-if you were a snowball, I would a-love the cold.
Chorus: cause youre so good Ive got to got to have you.
Youre so good that nothin else a-matters.
Youre so good, youre so good, youre so good,
Youre so good for me.
3: if you were a candle, I would a-light your fire.
A-if you were hard labor, I would a-never tire.
Chorus: cause youre so good Ive got to got to have you.
Youre so good that nothin else a-matters.
Youre so good, youre so good, youre so good,
[...] Read more
song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vision of Columbus – Book 3
Now, twice twelve years, the children of the skies
Beheld in peace their growing empire rise;
O'er happy realms, display'd their generous care,
Diffused their arts and soothd the rage of war;
Bade yon tall temple grace the favourite isle.
The gardens bloom, the cultured valleys smile,
The aspiring hills their spacious mines unfold.
Fair structures blaze, and altars burn, in gold,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And heave imperial Cusco to the sky;
From that fair stream that mark'd their northern sway,
Where Apurimac leads his lucid way,
To yon far glimmering lake, the southern bound,
The growing tribes their peaceful dwellings found;
While wealth and grandeur bless'd the extended reign,
From the bold Andes to the western main.
When, fierce from eastern wilds, the savage bands
Lead war and slaughter o'er the happy lands;
Thro' fertile fields the paths of culture trace,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
While various fortune strow'd the embattled plain,
And baffled thousands still the strife maintain,
The unconquer'd Inca wakes the lingering war,
Drives back their host and speeds their flight afar;
Till, fired with rage, they range the wonted wood,
And feast their souls on future scenes of blood.
Where yon blue summits hang their cliffs on high;
Frown o'er the plains and lengthen round the sky;
Where vales exalted thro' the breaches run;
And drink the nearer splendors of the sun,
From south to north, the tribes innumerous wind,
By hills of ice and mountain streams confined;
Rouse neighbouring hosts, and meditate the blow,
To blend their force and whelm the world below.
Capac, with caution, views the dark design,
From countless wilds what hostile myriads join;
And greatly strives to bid the discord cease,
By profferd compacts of perpetual peace.
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Leaves the deep confines of the temple wall;
In whose fair form, in lucid garments drest,
Began the sacred function of the priest.
In early youth, ere yet the genial sun
Had twice six changes o'er his childhood run,
The blooming prince, beneath his parents' hand,
Learn'd all the laws that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,
[...] Read more
poem by Joel Barlow
Added by Poetry Lover
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Hate The View
Life's perfect picture. Hmmm.
Who holds the camera?
Who directs the postures?
Who forces the crooked smiles?
Life's perfect imperfection. Hmmm.
Why not call the end?
Everyone is broken or will be
Time ensures that in time
No innocence remains innocent
Who holds the breaking innocence
As it falls and hits the guilt?
The innocent never lasts.
Life's torn violin strings. Hmmm.
The abuser finds his victims
And breaks their soul for all their days
The strong survives by a thread
The weak in despair end their lives.
Life's creator's silence. Hmmm.
I hear mum speak and catch her tears
She's so sad and oh so tired
I see him inject himself secretly
A numb escape from life's deep sorrows
He says invisible sky dads don't
Humor me because they are silent figments
I watch her weep as her 5month baby
Arrives on earth with no breath from heaven
I hear her pray to God to end the pain...pleeeaaassseee
I feel Him sometimes, maybe Him.
Maybe not. I guess not.
Please say something. Dad. Hmmm.
The dying children. The crying men.
The killing cancer. The murdering AIDS.
The drinking mouth. The failing liver.
The smoking tongue. The dying lung.
The hitting and running idiots.
The drinking and driving morons.
The despairing suicides. The hungry forgotten.
The vulture waiting for the next
Starving African child to die
The angry earth spewing fire and melted ice
Consuming thousands in its wake
The virgin-seeking maniac bombing lives away
The man with no food to eat nor clothes to wear
Nor any to care. Nor love to share.
Sits by a pole in absolute abandon
With no strength to beg either man or God
For life hath dealt him a hard hand
He lay, he lay silently, unable to disturb
The frustrated lives of the trolling masses
And quietly waits for a hand kinder
[...] Read more
poem by Jenim Dibie
Added by Poetry Lover
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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One, Two
Feat. kurupt
(everlast)
Yeah, yeah, two-thousand, zero, zero
The party just started, ha-ha, ha-ha
Everlast, kurupt, goes somethin like this
(chorus)
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
The good lord knows just what youve been through
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
Sometimes youre just doing what youve got to do
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
The good lord knows just what youve been through
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
Sometimes youre just doing what youve got to do
(everlast)
Sticker man tryin to feed his baby
Drug dealer tryin to raise his son
Every pimp gotta dress his lady
Come on now you aint the only one
(chorus)
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
The good lord knows just what youve been through
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
Sometimes youre just doing what youve got to do
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
The good lord knows just what youve been through
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
Sometimes youre just doing what youve got to do
(kurupt)
Now this is the combination of intervention
That just might open up a new dimension
I can tell, the well, just might run dry
Loss some tension of thoughts, modify and simplify
(chorus)
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
The good lord knows just what youve been through
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
Sometimes youre just doing what youve got to do
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
The good lord knows just what youve been through
I say one, two, one-two-one-two
Sometimes youre just doing what youve got to do
(kurupt)
I said life, blast, present to the past
Hard rapper the war path
War path kurupt young goddie
Incredibly clever, mack auther with everlast its true
Do what you wanna do, one, two
(everlast)
Mary jane wanna run smoke reefer
[...] Read more
song performed by Everlast
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bride of Abydos
"Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted." — Burns
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND,
THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED,
WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT,
BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND,
BYRON.
THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS
CANTO THE FIRST.
I.
Know ye the land where cypress and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine;
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom; [1]
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;
Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,
And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye;
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?
'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun —
Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? [2]
Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell
Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.
II.
Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Apparell'd as becomes the brave,
Awaiting each his lord's behest
To guide his steps, or guard his rest,
[...] Read more
Ladies Room
Every time its the same
What follows me is my fame
Youre what I need to play the game
You say you like to dance
Mmm, I think Ill take a chance
Ooh, baby, maybe its time for romance
Youre such a jewel in the rough
You wanna show me your stuff
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
You say you like to play
Well, its too late for you to get away
And youve gotta believe me, when I say
Baby, youre such a jewel in the rough
You wanna show me your stuff
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
You cant be too soon
Youre such a jewel in the rough
You wanna show me your stuff, come on baby
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
Ill meet you, greet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet you, greet you in the ladies room
Ill meet you, greet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet you, greet you in the ladies room
Mmm, meet, meet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
Ill meet you, greet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
Ill meet, meet you in the ladies room
Ill meet you, greet you in the ladies room
For my money, you cant be too soon
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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