If pregnancy were a book, they would cut the last two chapters.
quote by Nora Ephron
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
1, 2, 3 'o' clock 4 'o' clock ROCK
5, 6, 7 'o' clock 8 'o' clock ROCK
9, 10, 11 'o' clock 12 'o' clock ROCK
Gonna ROCK (What?) ROCK, ROCK around the clock
Three years ago in St. Albans, Queens
I was rockin at a park called one eighteen
Little kids stood and watched as I rocked the spot
Didn't know that years later I'll be standin on top
Livin near Farmers Boulevard I was born and base-shaw
Stopped the rich and shaked hands with the poor
And this is a story about a brother I know
Cut Creator on the fader no watch him go
[Chorus]
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
When back in the days before I clocked some dough
I used to go to the show and sit in the front row
Hopin and prayin one day I'll get on the road
So I had a feeler and a summer and I meet when I'm stoned
Not fearin a thought, got stung like a horse
Don't make fun of my posse, cause each man is a boss
When his only damn way to pull a jam out the crate
One time for your mind
Check out the guitar break
[Chorus]
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
This jam just wasn't enough for Jimmy Hendrix to see
He could do lessons of mixin take you under his wing
Straight from the heart cause it ain't the money that we came here for
Ain't no thoughts in the room ain't breakin no roles
And in the Rock 'n' Roll land, a big strivin plan
Just my posse learn the vocals what little they had
It's all about us three: Eve, Phil & Jay
He heard Cut Creator cut now check it out to play
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cut You Down To Size
Dont you know theyre gonna cut you down to size
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
Youre gonna find out when you see it right in their eyes
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
And they cut you down, yeah they cut you down
They cut you down to size
How does it feel
Whatd you do with this fire inside
Where do you turn now that you realize
Where you go when you run out of alibis
Tell me
Dont you know theyre gonna cut you down to size
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
Youre gonna find out when you see it right in their eyes
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
And they cut you down to, they cut you down to
They cut you down to size
How does it feel
How does it feel
Youve been living with your own suspicion
Now youve got to believe
I know youve heard it said that only the strong survive
Dont you know theyre gonna cut you down to size
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
Youre gonna find out when you see it right in their eyes
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
And they cut you down to size
Dont you know theyre gonna
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
And they cut you down to, cut you down to
Cut you down to size
Get up stand up, come back for another round
And they cut you down to size
Cut you down to size
song performed by Starship
Added by Lucian Velea
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I. The Ring and the Book
Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.
Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Eighth Book
ONE eve it happened when I sate alone,
Alone upon the terrace of my tower,
A book upon my knees, to counterfeit
The reading that I never read at all,
While Marian, in the garden down below,
Knelt by the fountain (I could just hear thrill
The drowsy silence of the exhausted day)
And peeled a new fig from that purple heap
In the grass beside her,–turning out the red
To feed her eager child, who sucked at it
With vehement lips across a gap of air
As he stood opposite, face and curls a-flame
With that last sun-ray, crying, 'give me, give,'
And stamping with imperious baby-feet,
(We're all born princes)–something startled me,–
The laugh of sad and innocent souls, that breaks
Abruptly, as if frightened at itself;
'Twas Marian laughed. I saw her glance above
In sudden shame that I should hear her laugh,
And straightway dropped my eyes upon my book,
And knew, the first time, 'twas Boccaccio's tales,
The Falcon's,–of the lover who for love
Destroyed the best that loved him. Some of us
Do it still, and then we sit and laugh no more.
Laugh you, sweet Marian! you've the right to laugh,
Since God himself is for you, and a child!
For me there's somewhat less,–and so, I sigh.
The heavens were making room to hold the night,
The sevenfold heavens unfolding all their gates
To let the stars out slowly (prophesied
In close-approaching advent, not discerned),
While still the cue-owls from the cypresses
Of the Poggio called and counted every pulse
Of the skyey palpitation. Gradually
The purple and transparent shadows slow
Had filled up the whole valley to the brim,
And flooded all the city, which you saw
As some drowned city in some enchanted sea,
Cut off from nature,–drawing you who gaze,
With passionate desire, to leap and plunge,
And find a sea-king with a voice of waves,
And treacherous soft eyes, and slippery locks
You cannot kiss but you shall bring away
Their salt upon your lips. The duomo-bell
Strikes ten, as if it struck ten fathoms down,
So deep; and fifty churches answer it
The same, with fifty various instances.
Some gaslights tremble along squares and streets
The Pitti's palace-front is drawn in fire:
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Truth and the Devil
The devil unstoppably took pride in salaciously writing; the book of
obnoxious caste-creed and venomously penalizing hatred,
The devil unstoppably took pride in acrimoniously writing; the book of
indiscriminate bloodshed and disastrously traumatizing ruthlessness,
The devil unstoppably took pride in vengefully writing; the book of
tyrannical devastation and lecherously bellicose orphaning,
The devil unstoppably took pride in fretfully writing; the book of
vindictive war and satanically criminal holocausts,
The devil unstoppably took pride in maliciously writing; the book of
coldblooded barbarism and manipulatively bizarre malice,
The devil unstoppably took pride in forlornly writing; the book of
worthless
ghosts and mortuaries brutally anointed with fresh blood,
T The devil unstoppably took pride in indigently writing; the book of
nonchalant spuriousness and fecklessly insipid meaninglessness,
The devil unstoppably took pride in torturously writing; the book of
ominous
animosity and hedonistically pugnacious illwill,
The devil unstoppably took pride in dictatorially writing; the book of
licentious bawdiness and insanely threadbare nothingness,
The devil unstoppably took pride in heinously writing; the book of
lascivious poverty and baselessly crippling uncertainty,
The devil unstoppably took pride in savagely writing; the book of
despicable
defeat and lethally ballistic atrociousness,
The devil unstoppably took pride in raunchily writing; the book of
dolorous
delinquency and insidiously slandering betrayal,
The devil unstoppably took pride in preposterously writing; the book of
scurrilous lunatism and barbarously incarcerating fiendishness,
The devil unstoppably took pride in frigidly writing; the book of
jejune
mockery and impudently castigating brazenness,
The devil unstoppably took pride in heartlessly writing; the book of
ghastly
bloodshed and indefatigably bombarding politics,
[...] Read more
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Fifth Book
AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,
Who, in a rush of too long prisoned flame,
Their radiant faces upward, burn away
This dark of the body, issuing on a world
Beyond our mortal?–can I speak my verse
So plainly in tune to these things and the rest,
That men shall feel it catch them on the quick,
As having the same warrant over them
To hold and move them, if they will or no,
Alike imperious as the primal rhythm
Of that theurgic nature? I must fail,
Who fail at the beginning to hold and move
One man,–and he my cousin, and he my friend,
And he born tender, made intelligent,
Inclined to ponder the precipitous sides
Of difficult questions; yet, obtuse to me,–
Of me, incurious! likes me very well,
And wishes me a paradise of good,
Good looks, good means, and good digestion!–ay,
But otherwise evades me, puts me off
With kindness, with a tolerant gentleness,–
Too light a book for a grave man's reading! Go,
Aurora Leigh: be humble.
There it is;
We women are too apt to look to one,
Which proves a certain impotence in art.
We strain our natures at doing something great,
Far less because it's something great to do,
Than, haply, that we, so, commend ourselves
As being not small, and more appreciable
To some one friend. We must have mediators
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cut It Out
Sitting in darwins theory
And youre down in the 48
Im practicing politics
Your practicing guitar and staying out late
Howd we get so turned around
Why did we make it so hard
Why cant we cut it out tender
Give us something good to remember
Hey my my my my rock star
Saw your feet leave the ground
You said all I wanted to be is loud
I was ushering your friends in
I was I was
I was trying to clear the aisles
Howd you get so turned around
Why did you make it so hard
Why cant you cut it out Im tender
Give me something good to remember
I said
Cut it out
Cut it all out
So its alaska in the summertime
In the wintertime Im free
The days are short cold and wasted
Nowhere is warm enough for me
Baby you tell me what happened
Why did I make it so hard
Cant I cut it our youre tender
Give you something good to remember
Baby you tell me what happened
(why did we make it so hard)
How did I make it so hard
(can you tell me what happened)
I wonder
Oh cut it out Im tender
(why did we make it so hard)
Give me something
Give me something good to remember
(why did we make it so hard)
(why did we make it so hard)
(can you tell me what happened)
(why did we make it so hard)
(can you tell me what happened)
(why did you make it so hard)
(can you tell me what happened)
(why did we make it so hard)
(can you tell me what happened)
I said
Cut it out
Cut it all out
[...] Read more
song performed by Indigo Girls
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pregnancy
A meaningful painter painting the walls of love,
And pregnancy dragged the two people into marriage;
The love of the team,
The love of the pair with amorous ideas!
Today, this pregnancy had made them to be married together.
What is in his soul?
What is in her soul?
Like the light at the end of the turnel to keep them going;
But, this pregnancy had dragged them into marriage.
Of an amorous expediction,
Of a name calling;
She was raped in her own bedroom.
Of a meaningful painter painting,
From the brink of things to the wink of the act;
But catapulted like the poles apart from the walls,
With pet names on your only mistake in life.
These are the memories of the past,
And to share a lot of common interest with you;
But it is of gifts without reasons.
This is all about the sweet spot of love,
And the pregnancy is like the pot of love to share;
But, the blood stain on her mattress is the truth of the matter.
AOf a meaningful painter painting the walls of love,
In a wooden kiosk to crown the day;
But today we know where they came from,
Because the pregnancy united them in marriage.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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Seventh Book
'THE woman's motive? shall we daub ourselves
With finding roots for nettles? 'tis soft clay
And easily explored. She had the means,
The moneys, by the lady's liberal grace,
In trust for that Australian scheme and me,
Which so, that she might clutch with both her hands,
And chink to her naughty uses undisturbed,
She served me (after all it was not strange,;
'Twas only what my mother would have done)
A motherly, unmerciful, good turn.
'Well, after. There are nettles everywhere,
But smooth green grasses are more common still;
The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud;
A miller's wife at Clichy took me in
And spent her pity on me,–made me calm
And merely very reasonably sad.
She found me a servant's place in Paris where
I tried to take the cast-off life again,
And stood as quiet as a beaten ass
Who, having fallen through overloads, stands up
To let them charge him with another pack.
'A few months, so. My mistress, young and light,
Was easy with me, less for kindness than
Because she led, herself, an easy time
Betwixt her lover and her looking-glass,
Scarce knowing which way she was praised the most.
She felt so pretty and so pleased all day
She could not take the trouble to be cross,
But sometimes, as I stooped to tie her shoe,
Would tap me softly with her slender foot
Still restless with the last night's dancing in't,
And say 'Fie, pale-face! are you English girls
'All grave and silent? mass-book still, and Lent?
'And first-communion colours on your cheeks,
'Worn past the time for't? little fool, be gay!'
At which she vanished, like a fairy, through
A gap of silver laughter.
'Came an hour
When all went otherwise. She did not speak,
But clenched her brows, and clipped me with her eyes
As if a viper with a pair of tongs,
Too far for any touch, yet near enough
To view the writhing creature,–then at last,
'Stand still there, in the holy Virgin's name,
'Thou Marian; thou'rt no reputable girl,
'Although sufficient dull for twenty saints!
'I think thou mock'st me and my house,' she said;
'Confess thou'lt be a mother in a month,
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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They Fuss It to Be Cut Up
Some just can't let it be!
With a letting go.
They want to beat it to then leave it.
Come back,
To again...
Service it with lip.
As if 'whatever' it is...
Exists in their minds,
Breathes...
As if it lives.
They cuss it to be cut up.
They fuss it to be cut up.
People aren't grateful to receive a gift.
Or appreciate it without examining the value of it.
They cuss it to be cut up.
They fuss it to be cut up.
Whining without restraint!
They cuss it to be cut up.
They fuss it to be cut up.
Complaining and showing no shame.
They cuss it to be cut up.
They fuss it to be cut up.
Some just can't let it be!
With a letting go.
They want to beat it to then leave it.
Come back,
To again...
Service it with lip.
As if 'whatever' it is...
Exists in their minds,
Breathes...
As if it lives.
They cuss it to be cut up.
People are bold.
They fuss it to be cut up.
People are cold.
Whining without restraint!
They cuss it to be cut up.
People are bold.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Trust A Fox
Dolly leans on perfect display
This fox is a vulture make no mistake
The day's are gone when I should come to this
End of my day nothing but grey
You'd cut your face up as soon as say hello
You'd cut your face as soon as say hello
I'd cut your face up as soon as say hello
I'll cut your face as soon as say as soon as say as soon as say
Hello
Dolly leans on perfect display
Now I need no excuse up and away
Trust me trust a fox a silly thing to do
I want your blood I'm an Englishman
You'll cut your face up as soon as say hello
I'll cut your face as soon as say hello
You'll cut your face up as soon as say hello
I cut your face as soon as say as soon as say as soon as say
Hello
Ha!
I'll cut your face up as soon as say hello
I cut your face as soon as say hello
I'll cut your face up as soon as say hello
I cut your face as soon as say as soon as say as soon as say
Hello
As soon as say hello
As soon as say hello
As soon as say hello
As soon as say hello
You'd cut your face up as soon as say hello
You'd cut your face as soon as say hello
I'll cut your face up as soon as say hello
I cut your face as soon as say as soon as say as soon as say
Hello
song performed by The Stone Roses from Garage Flower
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cut Somethin
Intro
Cut somthin'(cut somthin')
Cut somthin'(cut somthin')
Cut somethin' on the low low
LUDACRIS
Cut a nigga on the low low
or bette, cut a nigga from so so
I heard you cut a nigga from the DTP
and got DDTed from college parks to the DEC
see we be sitting on low pros shipping chick in by the boat load
not me many people that can see this cheese
Betta run these G's from Ludacris and dem pimp MCs JE
verse
For all of ya'll who don't know let me explain
what cuttin is and how it go got to know the game
cause you can say the wrong thing to the wrong girl
with the wrong man and let's just say it might be a long night
first thing you should know do she get down
or if she's even feeling you is she worth your while
like this girl I met the other day
she feeling i was feeling her and I can't believe she said
Chorus
Cut sometin' I looked and her she look at me and said ain't nothin'
I couldn't believe what i just heard she was not frontin'
I like my women kind of bold but she MMM MMM MMM
she said cut something I'm feeling you you feeling so let's stop playing
said you ain't never had a girl like me to make you feel like
we should cut somthing don't be scared
verse
Now usually there's exceptions to, to every rule
this one i had tolet on thru she ws hella cool
she like to do the things that a man would really wanna
this what she said
chorus
I know thing have changed a lot
now that women go out they be on th prowl harder than men
you know when I figured out
when this girl walked and said cut something something
It ain't like I'm tripping about it
I just remember when a man can be a man
and I still can't believe what she said
LUDACRIS
she said she needed me to beat it
beat it skeet it she greet it with a open tongue
with coke and rum got her so excited she screaming at the top of her lungs
she just can't hide I'm popin her gums I cock my popular guns
shoot shoot lick lick from the head to the toe head to the floor
head til it ain't no head no mo'
cut til it ain't no bed no mo cut til yo chick don't beg no mo
Jagged Edge grabbin legs women in the morning scramblin eggs
[...] Read more
song performed by Jagged Edge
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cut Somethin' (feat. Ludacris)
[JE]
JE y'all
Y'all know, yeah, yeah check this out
(Cut something, cut something)
We gonna let you in on a little Southern lingo
(Cut something, cut something)
Is that what they saying?
(Cut something, cut something)
(Cut something on the low-low)
[Ludacris]
Check it out
Cut a nigga for the low-low
I'm fixin' to cut a nigga from the So So
I heard you cut a nigga from the DTP, you got DDT
From College Park to the DEC
See we be sittin' on low pros
Shippin' *** in by the boatloads
Not many people can see the cheese
Better run they g's
Ludacris and the Pimp MC's, JE
[JE]
To all of y'all who don't know
Let me explain
What cuttin' is, and how it go
Gotta know the game
Cause you can say the wrong thing
To the wrong girl, with the wrong man
And, let's just say it might be a long night
The first thing you should know
Do she get down?
Now if she's even feeling you
Is she worth your while?
Had this girl I met the other day
She was feelin' me, I was feelin' her
And I couldn't believe what she said
She said cut something
She looked at me, I looked at her
I said "Ain't Nothin"
Couldn't believe what I just heard
She was not frontin'
I like my woman kind of bold
She was oh, oh, oh - oh, oh, oh, oh
She said cut something
I'm peepin' you, you're peepin' me
So let's stop playin'
She said "You ain't never had a girl like me"
Who will make you feel like this
So we can go after the show
Baby cut something, we should cut something
Don't be scared
[...] Read more
song performed by Jagged Edge
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sound Effects And Overdramatics
When the shirt came off, it was all in time
When a m-m-m-minute turned into a mile
And then I broke that grin, and I cut it out
And you got all turned on by the taste of your sin
When I mention blue, all you thought was color
When you mention drugs, all I thought was sober
When your pants came off and I turned you over
When you mention blue
Kill! Smile! Cut it out for me this time!
Smile, haven't seen him smile in a while
Keep the mask aligned
Get it up in time
There's a space between valleys
and try and catch a vibe
Make a circle square, a rectangle curve
Use a smile as a noun and I think like a verb
Run quick switch sides
Spill the filled up canister
And the room is shaking
Now you're changing places,
and I switched my pace,
and my breathing races when you mention blue
Kill! Smile! Cut it out for me this time!
Smile, haven't seen him smile in a while
Kill! Smile! Cut it out for me this time! (This is not [x6])
Smile, haven't seen him smile in a while
Kill, smile, cut out for me cut it cut it out
Smile, cut cut it out for me cut it cut it out
We cut it out!
Kill! Smile! Cut it out for me this time!
Smile, haven't seen him smile in a while
Kill! Smile! Cut it out for me this time! (This is not [x6])
Smile, haven't seen him smile in a while
Get down and stay awake
Smile
song performed by Used
Added by Lucian Velea
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Picture Book
Picture yourself when youre getting old,
Sat by the fireside a-pondering on[? ].
Picture book, pictures of your mama, taken by your papa a long time ago.
Picture book, of people with each other, to prove they love each other a long ago.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Picture book.
Picture book.
A picture of you in your birthday suit,
You sat in the sun on a hot afternoon.
Picture book, your mama and your papa, and fat old uncle charlie out cruising with their friends.
Picture book, a holiday in august, outside a bed and breakfast in sunny southend.
Picture book, when you were just a baby, those days when you were happy, a long time ago.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Picture book.
Picture book.
Picture book.
Picture book.
Picture book,
Na, na, na, na na,
Na, na, na, na na,
A-scooby-dooby-doo.
Picture book,
Na, na, na, na na,
Na, na, na, na na,
A-scooby-dooby-doo.
Picture book, pictures of your mama, taken by your papa a long time ago.
Long time ago,
Long time ago,
Long time ago,
Long time ago,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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Cut Something
Je yall
Yall know
Yeah yeah check this out
We gon let yall hear a lil southern lingo
You hear what they saying
Cut something
Cut something
Cut something
You cut something
Ludacris:
Cut a nigga for the low low
Or betta yet cut a nigga from so so
I heard you cut a nigga from the dtp
And got ddted from college park to the dec
See we be sittin on low pro
Shippin bitches by the boat loads
Not to many people dat can see this cheese
Betta run these gs
Ludacris and the pimp mcs je
Je to all of yall
Who dont know
Let me explain
What cuttin is and how it go
Gotta know the game
Cause you can say the wrong thing
To the wrong girl
With the wrong man
And lets just say it might be a long night
First thing you should know
Do she get down
Now if shes even feelin you
Is she worth your wild
Like this girl I met the other day
She was feeling me
I was feeling her
And I couldnt believe what she said
Hook she said cut something
She looked at me
I looked at her
I said aint nothing
I couldnt believe what I just heard
She was not frontin
I like my woman kinda bold
But she was un un
She said cut something
Im peeping you
You peeping me
So lets stop playing
She said you aint never had a girl like me
Make you feel like this
[...] Read more
song performed by Jagged Edge
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bleeding
Stop bleeding said the knife
I would if I could said the cut.
Stop bleeding you make me messy with the blood.
I'm sorry said the cut.
Stop or I will sink in farther said the knife.
Don't said the cut.
The knife did not say it couldn't help it but
it sank in farther.
If only you didn't bleed said the knife I wouldn't
have to do this.
I know said the cut I bleed too easily I hate
that I can't help it I wish I were a knife like
you and didn't have to bleed.
Well meanwhile stop bleeding will you said the knife.
Yes you are a mess and sinking in deeper said the cut I
will have to stop.
Have you stopped by now said the knife.
I've almost stopped I think.
Why must you bleed in the first place said the knife.
For the same reason maybe that you must do what you
must do said the cut.
I can't stand bleeding said the knife and sank in farther.
I hate it too said the cut I know it isn't you it's
me you're lucky to be a knife you ought to be glad about that.
Too many cuts around said the knife they're
messy I don't know how they stand themselves.
They don't said the cut.
You're bleeding again.
No I've stopped said the cut see you are coming out now the
blood is drying it will rub off you'll be shiny again and clean.
If only cuts wouldn't bleed so much said the knife coming
out a little.
But then knives might become dull said the cut.
Aren't you still bleeding a little said the knife.
I hope not said the cut.
I feel you are just a little.
Maybe just a little but I can stop now.
I feel a little wetness still said the knife sinking in a
little but then coming out a little.
Just a little maybe just enough said the cut.
That's enough now stop now do you feel better now said the knife.
I feel I have to bleed to feel I think said the cut.
I don't I don't have to feel said the knife drying now
becoming shiny.
poem by May Swenson
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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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First Book
OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.
I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.
I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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