Catman
Catman, you're looking cool today,
We say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my hangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So keep your high-heel boots and your knee-high mind,
Come up to my pad and see my work,
Go for a meal and hear my joke,
Or get in a bag and take a poke,
But don't be too clever or we'll kick your fillies in.
Look out, look out,
The rosies are coming to town.
Look out, catman, look out, catman,
The rosies are flashing along.
Catman, we feel a fool today,
I say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my wangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So leave your well polished tail and your uptight suit,
Show us some funnies that are better than daddies,
Or bake us some cakes that are better than mommies,
Or give us your witties that are trapped in your willies,
But don't be too clever or we'll scratch your goodies out.
Watch out, watch out,
The rosies are riding the town.
Watch out, catman, watch out, catman,
The rosies are slashing about.
Catman, shining your tools today,
They say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my fangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So save your thigh high thoughts and your banana skin,
We'll burn your pansies and give you a bug,
We'll squeeze your lemon and give you a mug,
We'll cut your daisies and give you a slug,
And don't be too clever or we'll blow your sillies off.
Keep out, keep out,
The rosies are passing the town.
Keep out, catman, keep out, catman,
The rosies are bashing around.
Coochy coochy coo, bunny bunny boo, patti patti poo,
Catman! catman! where are you?
Don't be a prune, catman, give us all you've got.
Your blueberry eyes and your evergreen lies.
'cause after all, by this fall you might grow too old,
And you can't ask your mommy to use an old fruity in her pie.
Patter cake, patter cake, baker's man,
Bake me a cake as slow as you can.
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with 'o'
And put it in the oven for me and my mo.
Batter cake, batter cake, baker's girl,
[...] Read more
song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Luggage Canada
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Adrienne Vittadini
air bag blanco negro y
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[...] Read more
poem by Caasder Fronds
Added by Poetry Lover
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Healthy Back Bag
animated bag of chips
amor dive bag
american eagle outfitters bags
ambag poly bags wholesale
american airlines bag limits
american beauty plastic bag theme mp3
amf bowling bag
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Trash Bag
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Fitration Bags
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Catman (The Rosies Are Coming)
Catman, youre looking cool today,
We say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my hangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So keep your high-heel boots and your knee-high mind,
Come up to my pad and see my work,
Go for a meal and hear my joke,
Or get in a bag and take a poke,
But dont be too clever or well kick your fillies in.
Look out, look out,
The rosies are coming to town.
Look out, catman, look out, catman,
The rosies are flashing along.
Catman, we feel a fool today,
I say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my wangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So leave your well polished tail and your uptight suit,
Show us some funnies that are better than daddies,
Or bake us some cakes that are better than mommies,
Or give us your witties that are trapped in your willies,
But dont be too clever or well scratch your goodies out.
Watch out, watch out,
The rosies are riding the town.
Watch out, catman, watch out, catman,
The rosies are slashing about.
Catman, shining your tools today,
They say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my fangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So save your thigh high thoughts and your banana skin,
Well burn your pansies and give you a bug,
Well squeeze your lemon and give you a mug,
Well cut your daisies and give you a slug,
And dont be too clever or well blow your sillies off.
Keep out, keep out,
The rosies are passing the town.
Keep out, catman, keep out, catman,
The rosies are bashing around.
Coochy coochy coo, bunny bunny boo, patti patti poo,
Catman! catman! where are you?
Dont be a prune, catman, give us all youve got.
Your blueberry eyes and your evergreen lies.
cause after all, by this fall you might grow too old,
And you cant ask your mommy to use an old fruity in her pie.
Patter cake, patter cake, bakers man,
Bake me a cake as slow as you can.
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with o
And put it in the oven for me and my mo.
Batter cake, batter cake, bakers girl,
[...] Read more
song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Boots
INFANTRY COLUMNS
We're foot--slog--slog--slog--sloggin' over Africa --
Foot--foot--foot--foot--sloggin' over Africa --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Seven--six--eleven--five--nine-an'-tw enty mile to-day --
Four--eleven--seventeen--thirty-two the day before --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Don't--don't--don't--don't--look at what's in front of you.
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again);
Men--men--men--men--men go mad with watchin' em,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
Try--try--try--try--to think o' something different --
Oh--my--God--keep--me from goin' lunatic!
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Count--count--count--count--the bullets in the bandoliers.
If--your--eyes--drop--they will get atop o' you!
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again) --
There's no discharge in the war!
We--can--stick--out--'unger, thirst, an' weariness,
But--not--not--not--not the chronic sight of 'em --
Boot--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
'Taint--so--bad--by--day because o' company,
But night--brings--long--strings--o' forty thousand million
Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again.
There's no discharge in the war!
I--'ave--marched--six--weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It--is--not--fire--devils, dark, or anything,
But boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Added by Poetry Lover
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Cool, Cool Water
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
(water coolin me)
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
(water coolin me)
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
Have some water
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
(water coolin me)
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
Have some water
Water water water water water water
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Ah ah ah ah
Wa ah ah wa ah oo oo oo oo ah ah
Coolin so cool coolin me
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
When the heats got you down
Heres what you oughta
Get yourself in that cool cool water
(coolin so cool coolin me)
Cool cool water
Get yourself in that cool cool water
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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What Chris'mas Fetched The Wigginses
Wintertime, er Summertime,
Of late years I notice I'm,
Kindo'-like, more subjec' to
What the _weather_ is. Now, you
Folks 'at lives in town, I s'pose,
Thinks its bully when it snows;
But the chap 'at chops and hauls
Yer wood fer ye, and then stalls,
And snapps tuggs and swingletrees,
And then has to walk er freeze,
Haint so much 'stuck on' the snow
As stuck _in_ it--Bless ye, no!--
When its packed, and sleighin's good,
And _church_ in the neighborhood,
Them 'at's _got_ their girls, I guess,
Takes 'em, likely, more er less,
Tell the plain facts o' the case,
No men-folks about our place
On'y me and Pap--and he
'Lows 'at young folks' company
Allus made him sick! So I
Jes don't want, and jes don't try!
Chinkypin, the dad-burn town,
'S too fur off to loaf aroun'
Either day er night--and no
Law compellin' me to go!--
'Less 'n some Old-Settlers' Day,
Er big-doin's thataway--
_Then_, to tell the p'inted fac',
I've went more so's to come back
By old Guthrie's 'still-house, where
Minors _has_ got licker there--
That's pervidin' we could show 'em
Old folks sent fer it from home!
Visit roun' the neighbors some,
When the boys wants me to come.--
Coon-hunt with 'em; er set traps
Fer mussrats; er jes, perhaps,
Lay in roun' the stove, you know,
And parch corn, and let her snow!
Mostly, nights like these, you'll be
(Ef you' got a writ fer _me_)
Ap' to skeer me up, I guess,
In about the Wigginses.
Nothin' roun' _our_ place to keep
Me at home--with Pap asleep
'Fore it's dark; and Mother in
Mango pickles to her chin;
And the girls, all still as death,
Piecin' quilts.--Sence I drawed breath
[...] Read more
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Added by Poetry Lover
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Too Too Cool
You've gotten too cool.
And you've got me,
Curious.
What did you do to yourself,
That makes you appear this cool.
You've gotten too cool.
And you've got me,
Quite curious.
Whatchu do to yo' self,
That makes you appear this cool.
Did you get yourself another new pet?
Has someone come back confessing regret?
Did you win the last minute of a bet?
And this has lifted,
Up your chest!
You've gotten too cool.
And you've got me,
Curious.
What did you do to yourself,
That makes you appear this cool.
Did you get yourself another new pet?
Cool.
Has someone confessed regret?
That's cool.
Did you win the last minute of a bet?
So cool.
And this is a boost,
To your chest.
Did you get yourself another new pet?
Cool.
Has someone confessed regret?
That's cool.
Did you win the last minute of a bet?
So cool.
And this is a boost,
To your chest.
You've gotten too cool.
And you've got me,
Curious.
What did you do to yourself,
That makes you appear this cool.
You've gotten too cool.
And you've got me,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Poke Chop Sandwich
(about lightnin hopkins drummer who used to keep a porkchop sandwich on his floor tom, for snacking during the breaks. recorded with hopkins drummer, spider, present in the studio.)
Poke
Better watch that
Poke chop sandwichwaitin in th? sack
Ridin a tom tom, a double fat back
Got my poke chop sandwich? /p>
Layin on da drum
Poke chop greazyIm gonna get some
Get some a? dat poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Yeah yeah twenty five
Louisiana back beat and th? texas bop
Do a hollywood shuffle jes? cant top it
New york turn around and
Th? london stomp
African good luck combination
I know that ya want
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Double poke chop sandwich
Play on
Spider & lightnin hopkins got
Th? big bad beat
Aint no question what they gonna eat
Spider wanna a bottle,
Lightnin? wanna a can
Theyll take in a bucket
cause they dam well can
A poke chop
A poke at dat chop
Cut dat poke chope
Poke chop sandwich
Feel like, I feel like a poke chop sandwich
Give me dat sandwich in wax paper
Pork chop sandwich
song performed by ZZ Top
Added by Lucian Velea
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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:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cool
I got a penthouse in Manhattan
2 more in Malibu
I bought a '87 Cadillac Seville
Girl, I got a Mazerati 2
I wear diamonds on my fingers
I got a couple on my toes
I wear the finest perfume money can buy
It keeps me smellin' like a rose
If U wonder how I do it
There's just one simple rule
I'm just cool (Cool)
Oh oh - Honey, baby can't U see?
Girl, I'm so cool (Cool)
Ain't nobody bad like me, hey
(C-O-O-L) What's that spell?
(C-O-O-L)
I might dine in San Francisco
Dance all night in Rome
I go any freakin' place I want 2
And my lear jet brings me home (Listen darlin')
I got ladies by the dozens
I got money by the ton
Just ain't nobody better
Heaven knows that I'm the one
And it's all because of something
That I didn't learn in school
I'm just cool (Cool)
Cool - Honey, baby can't U see?
Girl, I'm so cool (Cool)
Cool - Ain't nobody bad like me
Sing it, baby
(C-O-O-L) What's that spell?
(C-O-O-L) That spell cool
(Cool) Cool
Sweeter than sex
(Cool) That spell cool
(Cool) Cool
So what U think?
(Cool) Cool
What time is it? Ooh
Listen baby, it takes a lot of lovin' and a little money
2 be a friend of mine
But baby, if U know how 2 shake that thing
I'll try 2 squeeze a little time
Cuz I make love, love every mornin'
2 who's ever by my side
Well, U might say that I'm a nymphomaniac
But it keeps me satisfied
When I look into the mirror
It just tells me something I already know
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kick It Up
(jim robinson)
Well I work six days out of seven
Waiting all week for saturday night
Going out to neon heaven
Punch the clock on party time
Jamming this old pickup across the county line
Aint it good to be alive
Kick it up
Tell the boys in the band
Play it hot cause I came in here to dance
Kick it up
Give that country girl a whirl
My boots are gonna lose the blues when they turn those guitars up
Kick it up
Got my paycheck in my pocket
Darling well spend every dime
And when this bar starts rocking
Well show them all just how to unwind
Dont worry bout your troubles
Leave em at the door
And Ill meet you out on the floor
Kick it up
Tell the boys in the band
Make it smoke cause she came in here to dance
Kick it up
Give that country girl a whirl
My boots are gonna lose the blues when they turn those guitars up
Kick it up
Kick it up
When the boss man gets you down
Kick it up
If youre tired of the runaround
Kick it up
Yeah we know monday morning will be here before too long
So until the night is gone
Kick it up
Tell the boys in the band
Play it hot make it smoke cause we came here to dance
Kick it up
Give that country girl a whirl
My boots are gonna lose the blues when they turn those guitars up
Kick it up
Oh kick it up
Kick it up (kick it up)
Kick it up (kick it up)
Kick it up
Kick it up (kick it up)
Kick it up
Kick it up
song performed by John Michael Montgomery
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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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Picking From A Grab Bag
Pick one.
Go ahead and pick one.
Just only pick one...
And pull it from the grab bag.
Pick one.
Why don't you pick one.
Just pick up any one,
And...
Pull it from the grab bag.
Do the children learn their ABC's,
Picking from a grab bag.
Is this the best that it can be,
To...
Pick from a grab bag.
What's learn by,
Picking from a grab bag.
What's earned by,
Picking from a grab bag.
Who teaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
Who preaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
And what lessons are really learned?
Who,
Teaches...
Picking from a grab bag.
Who preaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
What's learn by,
Picking from a grab bag.
What's earned by,
Picking from a grab bag.
And...
What lessons are really learned,
Picking from a grab bag.
Picking from a grab bag.
Picking from a grab bag.
Picking from a grab bag.
Who teaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
Who preaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
And...
What lessons are really learned,
Picking from a grab bag.
And...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Kick It In
Love gives me poetry
Stays up all night and puts a curse on me
Oh anything you want
Turn around and Ill take you there
I know its going to be
Take your shackles off o me
This citys gone, Im gone over there
Kick it in, kick it in
Build it up and burn it down again
Kick it in, kick it in
Burn down to the ground
Kick it in, kick it in
Tell me about this place youve been
I dont want it theres a fever going around
Take a walk down town
See whats going on
If you want to find a hidden key
Theres nothing here on me
Any city, anywhere
Any colour I dont care
You belong to me
And thats the way its gonna be
Kick it in, kick it in
Yeah kick it in, kick it in
Raise it up and let it live again
Feel your body shake and take off
You can lie but keep it in
Keep me down here wondering
So whats it going to be
Come on in
I like the shape youre in
You keep me wondering, wondering, wondering
Eyes upon you black and brown
Spread your love all over town
Give me fire, body heat
Say hello to me
I want to go anywhere
Any colour I dont care
Dont believe in all you see
And dont get caught
Kick it in, kick it in
Tell me about this love youve been
Kick it in, kick it in
Turn this life around
Kick it in, kick it in
Shake the ghosts from deep within
Close the door down
Dont let the demons in
Kick it in, kick it in
I only want to be your friend
[...] Read more
song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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