Citatepedia^®.com

If you never want to be criticized, for goodness' sake don't do anything new.

quote by Jeff Bezos
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

There Is A Goodness That Comes

When I feel a good deed is done,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.
And when I know I can let go of my woes,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.

I feel a goodness that comes.
A goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes over me.

I feel a goodness that comes.
I feel a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes over me.

When I awaken from a peaceful sleep,
There is a goodness that comes over me.

There is a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes over me.

When I feel a good deed is done,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.
And when I know I can let go of my woes,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.

I feel a goodness that comes.
I feel a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that I feel over me.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Art For Arts Sake

Gimme your body
Gimme your mind
Open your heart
Pull down the blind
Gimme your love gimme it all
Gimme in the kitchen gimme in the hall
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Gimme the readys
Gimme the cash
Gimme a bullet
Gimme a smash
Gimme a silver gimme a gold
Make it a million for when I get old
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Money talks so listen to it
Money talks to me
Anyone can understand it
Money cant be beat oh no
When you get down, down to the root
Dont give a damn dont give a hoot
Still gotta keep makin the loot
Chauffeur driven
Gotta make her quick as you can
Give her lovin make you a man
Get her in the palm of your hand
Bread from heaven
Gimme a country
Where I can be free
Dont need the unions
Strangling me
Keep me in exile the rest of my days
Burn me in hell but as long as it pays
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake
Art for arts sake
Money for gods sake

song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Ballad of Burial

If down here I chance to die,
Solemnly I beg you take
All that is left of "I"
To the Hills for old sake's sake,
Pack me very thoroughly
In the ice that used to slake
Pegs I drank when I was dry --
This observe for old sake's sake.

To the railway station hie,
There a single ticket take
For Umballa -- goods-train -- I
Shall not mind delay or shake.
I shall rest contentedly
Spite of clamor coolies make;
Thus in state and dignity
Send me up for old sake's sake.

Next the sleepy Babu wake,
Book a Kalka van "for four."
Few, I think, will care to make
Journeys with me any more
As they used to do of yore.
I shall need a "special" break --
Thing I never took before --
Get me one for old sake's sake.

After that -- arrangements make.
No hotel will take me in,
And a bullock's back would break
'Neath the teak and leaden skin
Tonga ropes are frail and thin,
Or, did I a back-seat take,
In a tonga I might spin, --
Do your best for old sake's sake.

After that -- your work is done.
Recollect a Padre must
Mourn the dear departed one --
Throw the ashes and the dust.
Don't go down at once. I trust
You will find excuse to "snake
Three days' casual on the bust."
Get your fun for old sake's sake.

I could never stand the Plains.
Think of blazing June and May
Think of those September rains
Yearly till the Judgment Day!
I should never rest in peace,

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

David

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.

If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

For Old Times Sake

Lets make love for old times sake.
Lets set right an old mistake.
Lets invite our hearts to break.
Its right tonight, but just for old times sake.
Remember you as mars, and me as venus.
Strange to see the grey in your hair.
And now to feel a peace so deep between us,
And to realize that we still care.
Lets make love for old times sake.
Lets set right an old mistake.
Lets invite our hearts to break.
Its right tonight, but just for old times sake.
I used to think we would wind up together,
Our destinies always entwined.
Oh, but your heart kept changing like the weather,
And you wound up leaving me behind.
Lets make love for old times sake.
Lets set right an old mistake.
Lets invite our hearts to break.
Its right tonight, but just for old times sake.
Lets make love for old times sake.
Lets set right an old mistake.
Lets invite our hearts to break.
Its right tonight, but just for old times sake.
Its right tonight, yeah,
But just for old times sake...
Its right tonight for old times sake.
For old times sake.
Old times sake...

song performed by Carly Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Great Balls Of Fire

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain
Too much love can drive a girl insane
You broke my will oh but what a thrill
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
I like that love cause I thought it was funny
You came along and you move me honey
I change my mind this love is sure fine
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
Chorus:
Ooh kiss me baby, ooh it feels good
Ooh hold me, hold me, I would love to love you
Like a lover should
cause youre fine, and so kind
I tell the world that youre mine, mine, mine, mine
I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs
Im real nervous but it sure is fun
You broke my will but I love you still and
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
Ooh kiss my baby, ooh it feels good, ooh hold me
Baby, you ought to love me like a lover should
cause youre fine, and so kind
I tell this world that youre mine, mine, mine, mine
I love that you love cause I thought it was funny
You came along and you move me honey
I change my mind, this love is sure fine
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
Kiss me baby, ooh it feels good
Ooh hold me, hold me
You ought to love me like a lover should
cause youre fine and so kind
I tell the world that youre mine, mine, mine, mine
I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs
I sure am nervous
But Im sure havin fun
I change my mind, this love is sure fine
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, you broke my will, but what a thrill
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
You broke my will but I love you still
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
Goodness gracious great balls of fire

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Out of Season

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

Integrity once had is not allowed.
Those made to feel a guilt,
Had walked so proud.
But now...
They're out of season.

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

Integrity once had is not allowed.
Those made to feel a guilt,
Had walked so proud.
But now...
They're out of season.

Integrity once had is not allowed.
Those made to feel a guilt,
Had walked so proud.
But now...
They're out of season.

Where is the truth and the goodness of the people.
Have they all gone out of season.
The goodness of the people.

Oh...
Where is the truth and the goodness of the people.
Have they all gone out of season.
The goodness of the people.
Oh...
Where is the truth and the goodness of the people.
Have they all gone out of season.
The goodness of the people.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Be Good

Be a good person
Goodness has no tribe
Goodness has no village
Goodness has no other name
Goodness thrives on any land
In the desert
Goodness is oasis
In the wilderness
Goodness is a pathway
Goodness is required anywhere
It is food to man
It nourishes the giver
And gives happiness to the receiver
Goodness is pleasant
So be good

poem by Babatunde Aremu
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

99 Lbs

Written by: d. bryant
Twenty-five pounds of pure cane sugar
Shes got in each and every kiss
You wouldnt know what Im talking bout
If you never had a love like this
Well, I dont mean to be frank with you all
Its a natural fact
Good things come wrapped up in small, small packages now
Well you cant argue with that
Oh, oh, yeah
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul, oh, oh
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Twenty-five pounds of tenderness
She got in each and every touch
Twenty-five pounds of understanding my woman
cause I was the one running round town worrying too much
Twenty-four pounds of sunday
That I cant see, yeah
And it all adds up to ninety-nine big pounds
Oh, Im talking about a feline friend
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul

song performed by Black Crowes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Dark Versus Light

darkness has fallen, yet i see a tiny speck of light
it has become a very quiet night, in spite, of whats to be in this ferocious fight
it never fails..evil some how always prevails
as it should
when we insist on being bad, instead of being good! ! ! !
in its every kind of harshness...in the total darkness
i shake and quiver as i see, what the eternal darkness has in store 4 me
evil takes a step closer and once again
its been..the same fight, for eons of nights
from the start of times, til times end
some sort of Armageddon

the angels take a giant step forth
they intend to fight for all we are worth
and so begins...the devils' ghouls vs angels' wars
the goodness intent of washing away, our evil sins
that are cast deep from within
as the evil raises their black and bloody swords
the goodness bless us by singing their angelic praise chords
as the ultimate fight begins, or the most evil of sins
from the devil vs our lord

to give birth to the pure, and closed hearts that aren't sure
in what to believe, an on going battle over eternity's
i shake and quiver as i see..what the eternal darkness will do to me
the sinners souls that stand in the flames of fires
that never got the chance to allocate they're sins of greed, lust, envy, gluttony, nor desire
all of our evil sins..that have been cast from within
that have shadowed us in doubt
come closer' the angels shout
and cast all the evil out.....

and then the evil takes a step back, as goodness prepares to attack
goodness seems to hold its own, they hold their ground
but evil has been sneakily maneuvering around
us, silhouetted by dusk and earths dust
taking over our lack of trust
the goodness takes another step forth
as the evil continues to surround
us from all sides of the ground
the angels annoint, as evil covers all points
of south, west, east and north...yet the goodness steps forth

if if we dont believe in if heaven and hell are true
the goodness will fight for the sinners souls of me and you
heres a tough question: would you? ? ?
choose to recieve...the dark and its sins? ? ?
or believe....and feel the light of goodness, within
just a thought......where would you stand.....as this war is fought? ? ? ?

poem by Krissi B'williams
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry
You'd better not pout, i'm telling you why
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
He's making a list, he's checkin' it twice
He's gonna find out whose daughter you're nice
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows if you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
(so you'd) better be good for goodness sake
Better be good for goodness sake
You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry
You'd better not pout, i'm telling you why
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows if you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
(so you'd) better be good for goodness sake
Better be good for goodness sake
You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry
You'd better not pout, i'm telling you why
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
Santa claus is coming to town
(released on a 45rpm)

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Great Balls Of Fire

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain
Too much love drives a man insane
You broke my will, oh what a thrill
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire
You came on over and took over my heart
You came along and moved me honey
I cannot lie you are so fine
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire
Kiss me baby, whooo, feels good
Come on over baby, love me like a lover should
Your fine, so kind, told this world that your mine, mine, mine
You pull my fingers and you twiddle my thumbs
Wanna love you but a true love huh
Come on baby, your drive me crazy
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire
Kiss me baby, whoo, feels good
Ahhh call me baby, love me like a lover should
Your fine, so kind, wanna tell this world that your mine, mine, mine
You pull my fingers and you twiddle my thumbs
Wanna love you but it sure is hard
Come one baby, you drive me crazy
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire
You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain
Too much love drives a man insane
You broke my will, oh what a thrill
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire
You get me lonely and you get all my money
You came alone and your with me honey
Come on baby you drive ah me crazy
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

song performed by Electric Light Orchestra
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Theres Nothing As Sweet As My Baby

(c)i like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sake
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby(g7)
(c)golden hair and (f)big blue eyes (g7)she could win a (c)beauty prize
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
(f)if I ever lose her Ill (c)lay me down and die
If (d7)sugar seems sweet then you ought to meet
My (g7)honey coated sweetie pie
(c)i like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sake
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
I like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sake
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby(g7)
(c)i feel like a (f)honey bee, (g7)when shes buzzing (c)round with me
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
Got (f)pounds of candy kisses, but (c)i cant spare an ounce
Shes (d7)sweeter than wine and brother shes mine
And (g7)thats the only thing that counts
(c)i like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sakes
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby

song performed by Hank Williams
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

For Veronica's Sake

(Alice Cooper / Bernie Taupin / Dick Wagner)
I got my name and number
I got my bed assigned
I got a dog in the city pound
That I left behind
I'm strapped down and wild-eyed
She's locked up in a pen
She needs somebody to feed her
And I'm her only friend
So for Veronica's sake I gotta get out of here
Yeah for Veronica's sake, she can get pretty weird
Yeah for Veronica's sake I gotta get myself out of here
We both been put in cages
We got our shots and tags
I got my sweatin' fist to shake
She's got her tail to wag
She has to bark and whimper
While I could scream and shout
The clock above the psycho ward
Says time is running out
So for Veronica's sake I gotta get out of here
Yeah for Veronica's sake, she can get pretty weird
Yeah for Veronica's sake I gotta get myself out of here
And I can see her howling all night at the lonely moon
They're going to give her the gas if I don't get there soon
I gotta get there soon
For Veronica's sake I gotta get out of here
Yeah for Veronica's sake, she can get pretty weird
----------------------------------------------------------

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!