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I only ever worked on interiors, and an interior is an interior. I don't know what they did about exteriors.

quote by Christopher Eccleston
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Assurances

I need no assurances, I am a man who is preoccupied of his own soul;
I do not doubt that from under the feet and beside the hands and
face I am cognizant of, are now looking faces I am not cognizant
of, calm and actual faces,
I do not doubt but the majesty and beauty of the world are latent in
any iota of the world,
I do not doubt I am limitless, and that the universes are limitless,
in vain I try to think how limitless,
I do not doubt that the orbs and the systems of orbs play their
swift sports through the air on purpose, and that I shall one day
be eligible to do as much as they, and more than they,
I do not doubt that temporary affairs keep on and on millions of years,
I do not doubt interiors have their interiors, and exteriors have
their exteriors, and that the eyesight has another eyesight, and
the hearing another hearing, and the voice another voice,
I do not doubt that the passionately-wept deaths of young men are
provided for, and that the deaths of young women and the
deaths of little children are provided for,
(Did you think Life was so well provided for, and Death, the purport
of all Life, is not well provided for?)
I do not doubt that wrecks at sea, no matter what the horrors of
them, no matter whose wife, child, husband, father, lover, has
gone down, are provided for, to the minutest points,
I do not doubt that whatever can possibly happen anywhere at any
time, is provided for in the inherences of things,
I do not think Life provides for all and for Time and Space, but I
believe Heavenly Death provides for all.

poem by Walt Whitman
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Interior Lulu

As you lie there on your bed
Beneath the face of louise brooks
With your makeup and your teddy bear
And your c.s. lewis books
Bad seed
Youre a bad seed
Youre a decadent in chrysalis
Waiting sleepily to emerge
When youll visit every seedy need
Of your random obsessive urge
All the ruses that you use
All the food that you refuse
All the dust and tired air that feeds interior lulus
All the poisoned attitudes
And the lust for the unknown
And the second best that devils use
To make this world their own
Interior lulu
Interior lulu
Every rainy day by e-mail
As you lie there on your bed
Another virtual page arrives
There will be times when you remember me
Of the chapters youll be writing
As the voices echo in your head
In the book called wasted lives
As you read henry and anais
All the lost weekends and booze
All the finger-and-thumb screws
All the sleepless worn out blues that bruise interior lulus
Interior lulu
Interior lulu
Use the anger
Paint a picture of it
Throw the colours
Use the pain, use the pain
Scream back a brand new emotion
As it runs across the skin
Fire across paper
Burn and curl, burn and curl
You thought you couldnt feel like this
But its happening again and youre waking up in pain
Tattooed in that private place
Microsoft and tears
Intimately pierced
Discovering and remembering
You felt like this somewhere before
Stirrin up the bed of the river
Somewhere you dont like to go
You wrote this down so many times

[...] Read more

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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En Ti Dej Mi Amor

Cuando ries veo salir el sol
Es algo increible, yeah
Hay un angel que est junto a m
Por mi corazn
Cuando ries ya no hay marcha atrs
Es algo increble, yeah
Hoy tengo un angel frente a m
Por mi corazn
S, que estoy bien a tu lado,
Tu amor es mo
En t dej mi amor
Y todo lo que soy,
Te entregaste a m sin condicin
Te d me corazn
Sin saber llegaste a mi interior
Y yo en t dej mi amor
Me salv cuando te encontre
Es algo increible, yeah
Ya no vivo en el ayer
Hoy tengo amor
S, que estoy bien a tu lado
Tu amor es mio
En t dej mi amor
Y todo lo que soy,
Te entregaste a m sin condicin
Te d me corazn
Sin saber llegaste a mi interior
Y yo en t dej mi amor
En t dej mi amor
Y todo lo que soy,
Te entregaste a m sin condicin
Te d me corazn
Sin saber llegaste a mi interior, oh yeah
Y yo en t dej mi amor
Mi gran amor soe que fueras tu
Cuando entraste en mi vida
Todo cambio
En ti deje mi amor
Hoy, un hombre nuevo soy
Por fn ests en mi interior
Y yo en t dej mi amor
En t dej mi amor
Y todo lo que soy,
Te entregaste a m sin condicin
Te d me corazn
Sin saber llegaste a mi interior
Y yo en t dej mi amor
En t dej mi amor
Y todo lo que soy,
Te entregaste a m sin condicin

[...] Read more

song performed by Westlife
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Dana, of the New York Sun

Thar showed up out'n Denver in the spring uv '81
A man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, 'nd he wuz a sight ter view
Ez he walked inter the orfice 'nd inquired fer work ter do.
Thar warn't no places vacant then,--fer be it understood,
That wuz the time when talent flourished at that altitood;
But thar the stranger lingered, tellin' Raymond 'nd the rest
Uv what perdigious wonders he could do when at his best,
Till finally he stated (quite by chance) that he hed done
A heap uv work with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

Wall, that wuz quite another thing; we owned that ary cuss
Who'd worked f'r Mr. Dana must be good enough fer us!
And so we tuk the stranger's word 'nd nipped him while we could,
For if we didn't take him we knew John Arkins would;
And Cooper, too, wuz mouzin' round fer enterprise 'nd brains,
Whenever them commodities blew in across the plains.
At any rate we nailed him, which made ol' Cooper swear
And Arkins tear out handfuls uv his copious curly hair;
But we set back and cackled, 'nd bed a power uv fun
With our man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

It made our eyes hang on our cheeks 'nd lower jaws ter drop,
Ter hear that feller tellin' how ol' Dana run his shop:
It seems that Dana wuz the biggest man you ever saw,--
He lived on human bein's, 'nd preferred to eat 'em raw!
If he hed Democratic drugs ter take, before he took 'em,
As good old allopathic laws prescribe, he allus shook 'em.
The man that could set down 'nd write like Dany never grew,
And the sum of human knowledge wuzn't half what Dana knew;
The consequence appeared to be that nearly every one
Concurred with Mr. Dana of the Noo York Sun.

This feller, Cantell Whoppers, never brought an item in,--
He spent his time at Perrin's shakin' poker dice f'r gin.
Whatever the assignment, he wuz allus sure to shirk,
He wuz very long on likker and all-fired short on work!
If any other cuss had played the tricks he dared ter play,
The daisies would be bloomin' over his remains to-day;
But somehow folks respected him and stood him to the last,
Considerin' his superior connections in the past.
So, when he bilked at poker, not a sucker drew a gun
On the man who 'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

Wall, Dana came ter Denver in the fall uv '83.
A very different party from the man we thought ter see,--
A nice 'nd clean old gentleman, so dignerfied 'nd calm,
You bet yer life he never did no human bein' harm!
A certain hearty manner 'nd a fulness uv the vest
Betokened that his sperrits 'nd his victuals wuz the best;

[...] Read more

poem by Eugene Field
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I Know Their Name

I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. Their father used to drive a light blue chevrolet
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. They had a dog that used to answer to Barney
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
(La guitar)
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I say:
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name

song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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6 Minutes Of Pleasure

Six minutes, six minutes
Six minutes, six minutes
(Sample)
I know why you're here
I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know why you're here
I know what you're doing
I can see it in your eyes you're up to somethin
I know what it is, but we're still cool
And we can socialize, I'm peepin ya baby
I'm holdin back I'm not lettin go
Cause a fool doesn't have a shoulder to cry on
So, give me a kiss and you service
Whether you like a mister or a miss
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Baby you're my dear I know why you're here
I know why you came I know what you're thinkin
I know what you need and that's what I've got
You think I'm goin crazy no I'm not drinking
I know what you want, I made ya want it
Take my hand listen to the man
You have a plan don't even risk it
What do you want a biscuit?
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Third Book

'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.

For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!

Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.

Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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Aftermath

Now the radio stutters. snaps to life.
Some sour song that sets it right.
And when London falls
He'd like to call
But the stars collide.
They're beautiful and much maligned.
In a universe where you see the worst,
And it's up to you to fix it.
Now you've worked it out
And you see it all
And you've worked it out
And you see it all
And you want to shout
How you see it all
It's easy to dismiss the "what's it all about" crowd.
There is no doubt. it's this, here, now.
And you close your eyes.
He's not coming back.
So you work it out, overfeed the cat.
And the plants are dry and they need to drink.
So you do your best. and you flood the sink.
Sit down in the kitchen and cry.
Now you've worked it out
And you see it all
And you've worked it out
And you see it all
And you want to shout
How you see it all
Now the universe left you for a runners lap.
It feels like home when it comes crashing back.
And it makes you laugh
And it makes you cry,
When London falls
And you're still alive.
The radio stutters,
It makes you laugh
And the aftermath,
Open up your eyes.
You're so alive.
Now you've worked it out
And you see it all
And you've worked it out
And you see it all
And you want to shout
How you see it all
How you've worked it out
And you see it all
How you've worked it out
And you see it all

song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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Returning From Greece

Well, we're nearly there, Hermippos.
Day after tomorrow, it seems - that's what the captain said.
At least we're sailing our seas,
the waters of our own countries - Cyprus, Syria, Egypt -
waters we know and love.
Why so silent? Ask your heart:
didn't you too feel happier
the further we got from Greece?
What's the point of fooling ourselves?
That wouldn't be properly Greek, would it?

It's time we admitted the truth:
we're Greeks also - what else are we?-
but with Asiatic tastes and feelings,
tastes and feelings
sometimes alien to Hellenism.

It isn't correct, Hermippos, for us philosophers
to be like some of our petty kings
(remember how we laughed at them
when they used to come to our lectures?)
who through their showy Hellenified exteriors
(Macedonian exteriors, naturally)
let a bit of Arabia peep out now and then,
a bit of Media they can't keep back.
And to what laughable lengths the fools went
trying to cover it up!

No, that's not at all correct for us.
For Greeks like us that kind of pettiness won't do.
We simply can't be ashamed
of the Syrian and Egyptian blood in our veins;
we should really honour it, delight in it.

poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Two Christmas Eves

I

THE white snow veils the earth's brown face,
Strong frost has bound the veil in place--
Under the wide, clear, dark-blue sky
All choked with snow the hollows lie,
Dead-white the fields--once summer sweet--
And woodlands where we used to meet:
We don't meet now, we never part.
Ever together, heart to heart,
We've worked, lost often, seldom won,
Seen pleasures ended, pains begun,
Have done our best, and faced, we two,
Almost the worst that Fate could do--
Yet not Fate's uttermost of ill,
Since here we are--together still!

For me you left, my dearest, best,
Your girlhood's safe warm sheltered nest;
For me gave up all else that could
Have made your woman-life seem good.
You thought a man's whole heart was worth
Just all the other wealth of earth;
I thought my painter's brush would be
A magic wand for you and me.
What dreams we had of fame and gold,
Of Art-that never could withhold
From me, who loved her so, full powers
To make my love for her serve ours,
To shape and build a palace fair
Of radiant hours, and place you there!
Art turned away her face from us,
And all the dreaming's ended--thus!
Our garret's cold; the wind is keen,
And cuts these rotten boards between.
There is no lock upon the door,
No carpet on the uneven floor,
No curtain to the window where
Through frost-blanched panes the moon's cold stare
Fronts us. She's careless--used to see
This world of ours, and misery!
Why, how you shiver! Oh, my sweet,
How cold your hands are, and your feet!

How hot this face of yours I kiss!
How could our love have led to this?
What devil is there over all
That lets such things as this befall?

[...] Read more

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Why Does The Summer of 1939 Sound Like Now?

The World's Fair
from the Great White Way-
where rides
and the freaks
and the Aquacade were-
to the grand
temples to American industry,
promised a future
no one belived in.
The buildings were,
in the words
and fashion of the time,
streamlined.
Their exteriors were
softened
into graceful curves
as if they were
in a high wind,
taking off into
some promised land,
and those of us
who knew
it wasn't true
tended to
huddle together.

The interiors
of those temporary buildings
that looked so solid
were in constant movement-
mechanical marching
of cows and railroads
cars and electronic promises,
pioneers and robots and
tumbles, falls, veils of
water rushed toward
that overused,
ephemeral tomorrow.
And we knew it,
we all knew it.

poem by Tom J. Mariani
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You Know My Name

You know my name
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
Good evening and welcome to slaggers
Featuring denis o'bell
Come on ringo, let's hear it for denis
Good evening
You know my name
Better look up the number
You know my name
(that's right) look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
You know my name
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Look up my number
You know my name
That's right look up the number
Oh you know you know
You know my name you know you know you know my name.
Huh huh huh huh
You know my name
Ba ba ba pum
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You-a you know you know my name
Baby you-a you know you know my name
You know my name you know you know you know my name
Go on denis, let's hear it for denis o'bell
You know my name you know you know you know you know you know my name
Prrr you know my name and the number
You know my name and the number you know you know my name
Look up me number
You know my number three you know my number two
You know my number three you know my number four
You know my name you know number too
You know my name you know my number
What's up with you?
You know my name
That's right
Yeah.

song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Eternal Kansas City

Chorus (choir singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city)?
(van singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Train down to st. louis
Get me there alright
Over to the city there, you know that one
Where the farmers daughter digs the farmers son
Dig your charlie parker
Basie and young
Witherspoon and jay mcshann
They will come
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Lady liberty in waiting
You know she lights the way
Her name is billie, shes a holiday
And the city is eternal -- hey, cant you see?
Its inside of you and its inside of me
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city ?
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Wild thing
You know the way to kansas city (choir only)
Thank you man (van)
You know the way to kansas city
Sing it (van)
You know the way to kansas city (van and choir)
Hit it (van)
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chatting Today

I worked for the union and on my very first communion, you know,
It never ever, ever, ever worked out right
So I spent the night sleepin on the railway
I worked for the foundry and man my mind it nearly drowned
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
It never, it could never work out right
So I said so long, amigo. good night and slept on the railway
The railway, theres no better way, ooh the railway
And its nice to talk to you today
I worked for the miller, a very, very nice type of fell-a {fellow}
But I could see that it was never gonna work out right
So I split and spent the night sleeping on the railway
I worked in the subway arc, oh yeah, yeah
You know it never, no no never, no never no, ever no, worked out right
So I said so long and spent the night on the railway
The railway, give me a bottle of whiskey, ooh the railway
Ooh, theres nothin like the railway
And Id like to thank someone for mascara and good things that I done
And for the time ya spent and the friendship begun
And most of all starry nights on the railway
Ooh, I dont know no better way
Than just, ooh, lyin back an drifting away
I can hear it, I can hear it

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chatting Today

I worked for the union and on my very first communion, you know,
It never ever, ever, ever worked out right
So I spent the night sleepin on the railway
I worked for the foundry and man my mind it nearly drowned
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
It never, it could never work out right
So I said so long, amigo. good night and slept on the railway
The railway, theres no better way, ooh the railway
And its nice to talk to you today
I worked for the miller, a very, very nice type of fell-a {fellow}
But I could see that it was never gonna work out right
So I split and spent the night sleeping on the railway
I worked in the subway arc, oh yeah, yeah
You know it never, no no never, no never no, ever no, worked out right
So I said so long and spent the night on the railway
The railway, give me a bottle of whiskey, ooh the railway
Ooh, theres nothin like the railway
And Id like to thank someone for mascara and good things that I done
And for the time ya spent and the friendship begun
And most of all starry nights on the railway
Ooh, I dont know no better way
Than just, ooh, lyin back an drifting away
I can hear it, I can hear it

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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You And I Know

They ask why do we live love die do we
Take a chance maybe ask a dance do we
Risk the pain never quite regain never
Oh we bleed the dark never miss the mark never

Well you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know

They don't know of the place we go lover
All the blues are green nothing in between lover
And when the darkness falls through the fine glass walls lover
Oh it makes the sound of the outward bound lover

But you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
Oh

Well they're looking right through me
And back into themselves
And I'm thinking that they knew me
When they laugh at someone else

Well you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
Oh I know you and I know you and I know
Oh I know you and I know you and I know
I know
Yes

song performed by Melissa Etheridge
Added by Lucian Velea
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If We Worked Today...

if we worked today
with equal hands,
with equal hearts,
and with equal backs...
if we worked today
with equal souls,
we'd build a world
worth dying for!

if we worked today
with honest hands,
with honest hearts,
and with honest backs...
if we worked today
with honest souls,
we'd build a world
worth dying for.

if we worked today
with loving hands,
with loving hearts,
and with loving backs...
if we worked today
with loving souls,
we'd build a world
worth living for!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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