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People have the power to redeem the work of fools.

quote by Patti Smith
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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Work To Make It Work

(r palmer)
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Don't confine your dreams to bed
You'll get scared if you get lazy
If you can't take enough to satisfy yourself
Then you'll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it don't come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that i'll try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you don't succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along

[...] Read more

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Payment

A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.

I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.

I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.

Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’

I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Woman Power

Youve heard of woman nation,
Well, thats coming, baby.
What we need is the power of trust,
That its coming.
Youve heard of the law of selection,
Well, thats how were gonna do it, baby.
We allow men who wanna join us
The rest can just stay by themselves.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Two thousand years of male society,
Laying fear and tyranny.
Seeking grades and money,
Clinging to values vain and phony.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Do you know that one day you lost your way, man?
Do you know that some day you have to pay, man?
Have you anything to say, man, except
Make no mistake about it, Im the president, you hear?
I wanna make one thing clear, Im the president, you hear?
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
You dont hear them singing songs,
You dont see them living life,
cause theyve got nothing to say, but
Make no mistake about it, Im the president, you hear?
I wanna make one thing clear, Im the president, you hear?
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
You may be the president now,
You may still be a man.
But you must also be a human,
So open up and join us in living.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
In the coming age of feminine society,
Well regain our human dignity.
Well lay some truth and clarity
And bring back natures beauty.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Evry woman has a song to sing,
Evry woman has a story to tell.
Make no mistake about it, brothers,
We women have the power to move mountains.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Did you have to cook the meals?
Did you have to knit?

[...] Read more

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Power To The People

Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Say you want a revolution
We better get on right away
Well you get on your feet
And out on the street
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
A million workers working for nothing
You better give em what they really own
We got to put you down
When we come into town
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
I gotta ask you comrades and brothers
How do you treat you own woman back home
She got to be herself
So she can free herself
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Now, now, now, now
Oh well, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Yeah, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on

song performed by Lennon John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Power To The People

Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Say we want a revolution,
Wed better get it on right away.
Well, get yer on your feet
And into the street, singing:
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
A million workers workin for nothin,
You better give em what they really own.
We got to put you down
When we come into town, singing:
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
I gotta ask you comrades and brothers,
How do you treat your own woman back home?
Shes got to be herself,
So she can give us help, singing:
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Now, now, now, now!
Oh well, power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Oh yeah, power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, power to the people!
Power to the people!
Oh well, power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Work To Make It Work 99

Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
Its all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you cant deal with
Aint no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Dont confine your dreams to bed
Youll get scared if you get lazy
If you cant take enough to satisfy yourself
Then youll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it dont come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that Ill try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Its all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you cant deal with
Aint no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you dont succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it

[...] Read more

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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Girl Power

So what's up?
Did U forget I was here?
What makes U look when another comes near?
Everyone U see, U think U can get
If that was the case, I'd be a bracelet
Oh, hey hey, yeah
This is called girl power, yeah
This is called girl power and it's all because I love our ball
2night, my dear, U can sleep alone
U can beg and scream and moan
It's all because I love our ball
U can be mine or not at all
Girl power (Oh)
Girl power (Yeah)
Girl power (Yeah)
U can be mine or not at all
Girl Power (Oh)
Girl Power (Yeah)
Girl Power
It's all because I love our ball
Don't look now, here comes a blonde
2 minutes later U're Don Juan
Turned my head, U tried 2 grab it
How did I know she's in your lap?
U say it's your cousin from Omaha
U took that number - gave her a call
If we get in trouble 4 the lies we tell
Child, I do believe we're gonna burn in hell
Girl power - U will be mine or not at all
Girl power - It's all because I love our ball
Looka here
2night, my dear, U can sleep alone
U can beg, U can scream and moan
It's all because I love our ball
U can be mine or not at all
Girl power (Oh, yeah) (U can be mine or not at all)
Girl power
U will be mine or not at all
Girl power (Oh)
Girl power (Yeah)
Girl power
It's all because I love our ball
What makes U look when another comes near?
What makes the sun set in my hemisphere?
Girl power!
Powerful girl, wave your hands
(Girl power) {x4}
8 + 8 is 16
9 - 6 is 3
3 + 11 is 14

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Placed In Your Power...

Placed, in Your Power … Are Promises
Placed, in Your Power … Are Poultices
Placed, in Your Power … Are Prodigies
Placed, in Your Power … Are Possibilities

Placed in Your Power, is my Prolonging
Placed in Your Power, is my Performing
Placed in Your Power, is my Preparing
Placed in Your Power, is my Preferring

Placed in Your Power, is my Paternal Name
Placed in Your Power, is when Privileged Came
Placed in Your Power, is my Posturing
Placed in Your Power, is my Proverbing

Placed, in Your Power is This Pearl Moon
Polished like Pewter, in Deep Purple Room
Placed, in Your Power is… Precious Time
Points of No Return and … Past Our Prime

Placed, in Your Power is… my Patience – Soon
Placed, in Your Power is Pam’s Pregnant Womb
Placed, in Your Power is The Preacher’s Prize
Placed, in Your Power… is Path to Paradise

Placed, in Your Power is … The Perfection
Placed, in Your Power is … The Protection
Placed, in Your Power is The Position… Plus
Placed, in Your Power is … The Purpose of Us

Placed, in Your Power, is … The Pure-Pleasure
Phases Out Phony, Polluted, and Plastic Peer-Pressure
Placed, in Your Power is … Permanent Productivity
Your Power, Has The Part… to Produce Panache - Proclivity

Placed, in Your Power are: Pertinent Pens and Pages
Placed, in Your Power, means - not Pinched but Pervasive
Placed, in Your Power is … Potently - Persuasive
Placed, in Your Power is … Posterity - Progressive

Placed, in Your Power … Are Poems and Prose
Placed, in Your Power is … This Pink Primrose…
… and Periwinkles, Petunias, Plums, Peaches and Pears
Partridges, Peacocks, and … Passionate People in Pairs

Placed, in Your Power is … Our Paramount Peace
Placed, in Your Power is … All Our … Please!
… and Public Praise… Private Prayers and Perpetual Psalms
For Each Particular Portrait, is in The Power of Your Palm

poem by MoonBee Canady
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An Essay on Criticism

Part I

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.

'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?

Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.

Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,

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poem by Alexander Pope
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Absalom and Achitophel

In pious times, e'er Priest-craft did begin,
Before Polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multiply'd his kind,
E'r one to one was, cursedly, confind:
When Nature prompted, and no law deny'd
Promiscuous use of Concubine and Bride;
Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart,
His vigorous warmth did, variously, impart
To Wives and Slaves; And, wide as his Command,
Scatter'd his Maker's Image through the Land.
Michal, of Royal blood, the Crown did wear,
A Soyl ungratefull to the Tiller's care;
Not so the rest; for several Mothers bore
To Godlike David, several Sons before.
But since like slaves his bed they did ascend,
No True Succession could their seed attend.
Of all this Numerous Progeny was none
So Beautifull, so brave as Absalon:
Whether, inspir'd by some diviner Lust,
His father got him with a greater Gust;
Or that his Conscious destiny made way
By manly beauty to Imperiall sway.
Early in Foreign fields he won Renown,
With Kings and States ally'd to Israel's Crown
In Peace the thoughts of War he could remove,
And seem'd as he were only born for love.
What e'er he did was done with so much ease,
In him alone, 'twas Natural to please.
His motions all accompanied with grace;
And Paradise was open'd in his face.
With secret Joy, indulgent David view'd
His Youthfull Image in his Son renew'd:
To all his wishes Nothing he deny'd,
And made the Charming Annabel his Bride.
What faults he had (for who from faults is free?)
His Father could not, or he would not see.
Some warm excesses, which the Law forbore,
Were constru'd Youth that purg'd by boyling o'r:
And Amnon's Murther, by a specious Name,
Was call'd a Just Revenge for injur'd Fame.
Thus Prais'd, and Lov'd, the Noble Youth remain'd,
While David, undisturb'd, in Sion raign'd.
But Life can never be sincerely blest:
Heaven punishes the bad, and proves the best.
The Jews, a Headstrong, Moody, Murmuring race,
As ever try'd th' extent and stretch of grace;
God's pamper'd people whom, debauch'd with ease,
No King could govern, nor no God could please;
(Gods they had tri'd of every shape and size
That Gods-smiths could produce, or Priests devise.)

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.

The Argument

Solomon considers man through the several stages and conditions of life, and concludes, in general, that we are all miserable. He reflects more particularly upon the trouble and uncertainty of greatness and power; gives some instances thereof from Adam down to himself; and still concludes that All Is Vanity. He reasons again upon life, death, and a future being; finds human wisdom too imperfect to resolve his doubts; has recourse to religion; is informed by an angel what shall happen to himself, his family, and his kingdom, till the redemption of Israel; and, upon the whole, resolves to submit his inquiries and anxieties to the will of his Creator.

Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.

Hearest thou submissive, but a lowly birth,
Some secret particles of finer earth,
A plain effect which Nature must beget,
As motion orders, and as atoms meet,
Companion of the body's good or ill,
From force of instinct more than choice of will,
Conscious of fear or valour, joy or pain,
As the wild courses of the blood ordain;
Who, as degrees of heat and cold prevail,
In youth dost flourish, and with age shalt fail,
Till, mingled with thy partner's latest breath,
Thou fliest, dissolved in air and lost in death.

Or, if thy great existence would aspire
To causes more sublime, of heavenly fire
Wert thou a spark struck off, a separate ray,
Ordain'd to mingle with terrestrial clay,
With it condemn'd for certain years to dwell,
To grieve its frailties, and its pains to feel,
To teach it good and ill, disgrace or fame,
Pale it with rage, or redden it with shame,
To guide its actions with informing care,
In peace to judge, to conquer in the war;
Render it agile, witty, valiant, sage,
As fits the various course of human age,
Till, as the earthly part decays and falls,
The captive breaks her prison's mouldering walls,
Hovers awhile upon the sad remains,
Which now the pile or sepulchre contains,
And thence, with liberty unbounded, flies,
Impatient to regain her native skies?

Whate'er thou art, where'er ordain'd to go,
(Points which we rather may dispute than know)
Come on, thou little inmate of this breast,
Which for thy sake from passions'l divest
For these, thou say'st, raise all the stormy strife,

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Prior
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Children Power

Children power,
Children power,
Children power,
Children power.
Monkeys are jumping from tree to tree,
Whales are swimming from sea to sea,
Birds are flying from sky to sky,
People are seeing eye to eye.
Were all one.
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power. (children power)
Earth is turning evry day,
Rivers are flowing in every way.
Trees are growing day by day,
And people are loving in their own way.
Were all one.
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power. (children power)
Caring people, (caring people)
Loving people, (loving people)
Learning people, (learning people)
Growing people, were all one.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Power paves from cave to grave

Man has paddled to the powerful and strong,
Worshipping what would not to his wish wield,
Commanding weak-kneed, committing all wrong,
E'er since the days of caves and battlefield,
Power from the days of cave, power to the grave,
Power in the name of principles to save.

He that rises to heights of stratosphere,
He that holds power to heart's near and dear,
Afraid of honest peer, always in fear
Of losing power, scared that law may interfere,
Afraid, flow of power may interrupt,
To him does power conspire to corrupt.

And today stray caps in sarkari house,
Looking holy in chair, or harmless cows,
The polling polls once return them to rule,
Turn in to bull as crown's precious jewel,
The powerhouse ready power to disburse,
To nurse cronies from people's tax-paid purse.

Each power cap, a poisonous creature,
Each having an exaggerated view
Of his cap, that evaporates not unlike dew,
But grasping-to-the-grave as its feature,
Crying out still like starving babes— ‘give, give',
Like hungry maw it knows but to receive.

But we that glibly put power to hell-hands—
Hands alas of a power-hungry tyrant,
Ne'er once cavil that they've turned faceless friends
To people, nor are fair to trust ere lent,
Nor wonder why their face is now turned ‘way,
The face that had begged and beseeched one day.

We that should know well democracy's staple:
Unbridled power we aught abolish;
In practice yet, we push up our own people,
So, long as power prevails, rulers and ruled
Shall ever be, so be the shahs, slavish,
Our own tools exploiting O the exploited fools!

We too know well: power roots down from the mind,
Rooting humane, gentle virtue, scarce vice,
Greater the power, greater the grab we find;
The voter scarce bewares; power, a loaded dice,
Fails, as a diamond should dazzle, to strike
Beholders no less than holders alike!

Dignifying the meanest of the means,

[...] Read more

poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work

Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:

Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.

Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’

Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!

So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Power

A wave of power rushes past you on a windy day
waving your hair into disarray and tingling your skin
A formless power makes you comfortable in the biting cold
the same power fills you in agony, pain and suffering
when you go straight to possess the heart of that comfortable power
and it is the same power which falls out of the clouds in little drops
and each of these are a single form of power
for the power is in the air
and the power is in the fire and the power is in the water.

A beam of power ricochets into your eyes from something
and you are illuminated with the beauty of the complete world
you see the ugly, you see the amazing, you see the violent,
and you see every solid and pattern
you see darkness behind an object in the form of it
lying in the ground or right beside your arm
and even in the darkness, there are objects and things
which has a power that enables you a touch of it.

All for the reason that the power is in the objects,
and the power is in the light and even the darkness and shadows.

A form of the same power enables you,
to know the presence of your woman near you
the same form of power gives you, the knowledge
of the proximity of your best food.
For the power is in the scent and smell
and the power is even in your nose that smells.

A vibe of power rings in your ear
and you know that something is somewhere near
and your tongue that knows the quality of the food
is all the power that's doing you good
the sound is itself the power
and so is the ear and the tongue
the tongue that so eagerly tastes your favorite food
the food which contains the power in itself too.

All this time you and me are here
and all this time everything else is there,
is for the power is everywhere;
the power pumps inside your body all the time
and even when you are dead and bloodless,
the power is still there in your veins and muscles.

The power is the life, the soul
the touch, the light, the darkness, the sound
the sentiments flowing inside you is the power
the strike you make in anger is the power,
and the power is existence, energy, substance, and motion.

[...] Read more

poem by Rajiv Prajapati
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The Power Age

Key:-a - anita r - ray
R: welcome to the power age
Money, money, money
R: the power age its the new generation
We are the ones with no limitations
We had the iron and the stone
Now we got a new age that we own
But its not about the power that makes you blind
Its all about the the power thats in your mind
This is the time to get the power
The power age, this is the hour
So let the _ take you on _
A: woow...
So release all the pain that stood there before
A: this is the power age
So get with it, oyeah, you belong
Theres only one force that makes you strong
A: oh.. oh...
This is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: break out of your cage; into the power age
R: the age of destruction, the age of hate
And the age of violence and the ages of late
Greed and gain thats all they care
Money, money, money, with enough to share
So get with it feel the vibration
The power age its just a sensation
You can feel it down in your soul
When you let the force take control
So by now you better know the deal
A: woow...
You gotta to get high to get real
A: this is the power age
Free you mind to disgage
Welcome to the power age
A: oh.. oh...
This is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage

[...] Read more

song performed by 2 Unlimited
Added by Lucian Velea
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