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I think of someone like Mariah Carey as a singer.

quote by Graham Coxon
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I Still Believe[Featuring Mariah Carey ]

Krayzie and mariah carey:thug mentality 1999
Intro
Mariah carey dont matter baby, dont matter what people say and I believe we
Can still be together
Krayzie dont matter...dont matter what they say...
-refrain-
Baby, I still believe that its more than my imagination, its so real, I know
Were gonna be together
Baby, I had a dream, and its more than my imagination, because I still believve
We belong together
Krayzie
If you still believe {echo}...fine/ everything youre searchin for, maybe more,
More
Mariah carey
Well boy, you just seem to be lost in uncertainty/ but when you wake up in the
Morning
Never sure, but let it go
Krayzie
Believe me, my feeling has always been sure(sure) I just wasnt too certain that
Yours were legitimate
Genuine/ really the real mccoy, mccoy
Mariah carey
And after all this time, you look into my eyes, and everything is still the same
My love for you wont fade away...
-refrain-
Krayzie
Im still a believer of this/ wont stop! just listen and look into my eyes/ i
Want you to visualize and
Realize/ you see itd never been too easy being krayzie bone/ temptations, im
Battlin with their
Persuasions rattling in my brain/ wont go insane/ I figure thats why they call
Me krayzie/ cuz I still
Maintain/weve got to struggle through all them hard times/ Ive got to tell
You:
Peace and happiness is hard to find (cmon) we can get there/ and Im not trying
To make excuses
And reasons, but these demons got me seeing things thatre really misleading me
But maybe thats just my life/ maybe Im just a thug, cold-hearted, but I can
Feel the love
Just keep faith and dont break it/ shake all them fakers and haters that makes
Me think Im not
Gon make it, I say, yeah, uh-huh...you got to believe it (mariah carey better
Believe it) you got to believe it
-refrain-
(krayzie no matter what they say...)
Mariah carey
If you wont believe baby...think about our lovin...(if you wont believe...)
Nothing could be closer to it... if we dont believe well lose...(lets do
It...)
Krayzie

[...] Read more

song performed by Krayzie Bone
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Anchor Song

Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah heave her short again!
Over, snatch her over, there, and hold her on the pawl.
Loose all sail, and brace your yards back and full --
Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all!
Well, ah fare you well; we can stay no more with you, my love --
Down, set down your liquor and your girl from off your knee;
For the wind has come to say:
"You must take me while you may,
If you'd go to Mother Carey
(Walk her down to Mother Carey!),
Oh, we're bound to Mother Carey where she feeds her chicks at sea!"

Heh! Walk her round. Break, ah break it out o' that!
Break our starboard-bower out, apeak, awash, and clear.
Port -- port she casts, with the harbour-mud beneath her foot,
And that's the last o' bottom we shall see this year!
Well, ah fare you well, for we've got to take her out again --
Take her out in ballast, riding light and cargo-free.
And it's time to clear and quit
When the hawser grips the bitt,
So we'll pay you with the foresheet and a promise from the sea!

Heh! Tally on. Aft and walk away with her!
Handsome to the cathead, now; O tally on the fall!
Stop, seize and fish, and easy on the davit-guy.
Up, well up the fluke of her, and inboard haul!
Well, ah fare you well, for the Channel wind's took hold of us,
Choking down our voices as we snatch the gaskets free.
And it's blowing up for night,
And she's dropping Light on Light,
And she's snorting under bonnets for a breath of open sea,

Wheel, full and by; but she'll smell her road alone to-night.
Sick she is and harbour-sick -- O sick to clear the land!
Roll down to Brest with the old Red Ensign over us --
Carry on and thrash her out with all she'll stand!
Well, ah fare you well, and it's Ushant slams the door on us,
Whirling like a windmill through the dirty scud to lee:
Till the last, last flicker goes
From the tumbling water-rows,
And we're off to Mother Carey
(Walk her down to Mother Carey!),
Oh, we're bound for Mother Carey where she feeds her chicks at sea!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Rum And Water

Stifling was the air, and heavy; blowflies buzzed and held a levee,
And the mid-day sun shone hot upon the plains of Bungaroo,
As Tobias Mathew Carey, a devout bush missionary,
Urged his broken-winded horse towards the township of Warhoo.
He was visiting the stations and delivering orations
About everlasting torture and the land of Kingdom Come,
And astounding all his hearers, both the rouseabouts and shearers,
When descanting on the horrors that result from drinking rum.

As Tobias Mathew Carey, lost in visions bright and airy,
Tried to goad his lean Pegasus to a canter from a jog,
All his visions were sent flying as his horse abruptly shying
At a newly wakened-something that was camped beside a log.
It was bearded, bronzed and hairy, and Tobias Mathew Carey
Had a very shrewd suspicion as the object he espied,
And observed its bleary winking, that the object had been drinking,
A suspicion which was strengthened by a bottle at its side.

It was Jacob William Wheeler, better known as "Jake the Spieler,"
Just returning from a sojourn in the township of Warhoo,
Where, by fast-repeated stages, he had swamped his cheque for wages,
And for language made a record for the plains of Bungaroo.
Then the earnest missionary, Mr. Toby Mathew Carey,
Like a busy bee desiring to improve each shining hour,
Gave his horse a spell much needed, and immediately proceeded
To pour down on Jake the Spieler, an admonitory shower.

He commenced his exhortation with a striking illustration
Of the physical and moral degradation that must come
To the unrepentant sinner who takes whisky with his dinner,
And converts his stomach into a receptacle for rum.
"Give attention to my query," said the ardent missionary:
"Do you not perceive that Satan is this moment calling you?
He is shouting! He is calling in a voice that is appalling:
Do you hear him? And the Spieler answered sadly - "Yes! I do."

"I can prove it is impious" said the eloquent Tobias,
"To drink stuff containing alcohol, and liquors that are strong,
And I'll prove to demonstration that your guzzling inclination
Is quite morally, and socially, and physically wrong.
When about to drain a bottle, or pour whisky down your throttle,
You should think about the thousands who have perished for its sake.
Gone! To the Davey Jones's locker, through the wine that is a mocker,
And which biteth like a serpent's tooth and stingeth like a snake."

Toby paused, and Jake replying said, "It ain't no use denying
That your logic is convincing, and your arguments are sound.
I have heard with admiration your remarks and peroration,
And your knowledge of the subject seems extensive and profound.
Yet, in spite of all your spouting, there is just one thing I'm doubting,

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas E. Spencer
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Against All Odds

Duet with mariah carey
Shane:
How can i just let you walk away,
Just let you leave without a trace,
When i'm standing taking every breath,
With you, ooohhh,
You're the only one who really knew me,
At all.
Mariah:
How can you just walk away from me,
When all i can do is watch you leave,
Cause we shared the laughter and the pain,
And even shared the tears,
You're the only one who really knew me at all.
So take a look at me now,
There's just an empty space,
There's nothing left here to remind me,
Just the memory of your face,
So take a look at me now,
There's just an empty space,
If you're coming back to me it's against all odds,
And that's what i've got to face.
Mark:
I wish i could just make you turn around,
Turn around and see me cry,
There's so much i need to say to you,
So many reasons why,
You're the only one who really knew me at all.
Mariah:
So take a look at me now,
There's just an empty space,
There's nothing left here to remind me,
Just the memory of your face,
So take a look at me now,
So there's just an empty space,
But to wait for you is all i can do,
When that's what i've got to face.
Take a good look at me now,
Cause i'll be standing here,
(mark: standing here)
And you coming back to me is against all odds,
And that's the chance i've got to take.
Westlife:
Got to take
Got to take
Mariah:
Ooh
Take a look at me now
Westlife:
Take a look at me now.

song performed by Westlife
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It's Like That - Ft. Fatman Scoop, Jermaine Dupri

Mariah Carey (f/ Fatman Scoop, Jermaine Dupri)
It's Like That
Lyrics:
[Jermaine Dupri:]
Dis is, the point when I need everybody get to the dance floor
It's like that y'all (that y'all), that y'all (that y'all)
Da da da da, I like that y'all (that y'all)
It's like that y'all (that y'all), that y'all (that y'all)
Like da da da da, I like that y'all (that y'all) MC
[Mariah Carey:]
[Verse 1:]
I came to have a party
Open up the Bacardi
Feeling so hot tamale
Boy, I know you watchin me
So what's it gonna be?
Purple taking me higher
I'm lifted and I like it
Boy, you got me inspired
Baby, come and get it
If you're really feelin me
[Bridge:]
Cuz it's my night
No stress, no fights
I'm leavin it all behind
No tears, no time to cry
Just makin the most of life
[Chorus:]
Everybody is livin it up
All the fellas keep lookin' at us (cuz)
Me and my girls on the floor like what
While the DJ keeps on spinnin the cut
It's like that y'all (that y'all), that y'all (that y'all)
It's like da da da da, I like that y'all (that y'all)
It's like that y'all (that y'all), that y'all (that y'all)
It's like da da da da, I like that y'all (that y'all)
[Verse 2:]
You like this and you know it
Caution, it's so explosive
Them chickens is ash and I'm lotion
Baby, come and get it
Let me give you what you need
It's a special occasion
Mimi's emancipation
A cause for celebration
I ain't gonna let nobody's drama bother me
[Bridge:]
Cuz it's my night
No stress, no fights
I'm leavin it all behind

[...] Read more

song performed by Mariah Carey
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Carey

The wind is in from africa
Last night I couldnt sleep
Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here carey
But its really not my home
My fingernails are filthy, I got beach tar on my feet
And I miss my clean white linen and my fancy french cologne
Oh carey get out your cane
And Ill put on some silver
Oh youre a mean old daddy, but I like you fine
Come on down to the mermaid cafe and I will buy you a bottle of wine
And well laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down
Lets have a round for these freaks and these soldiers
A round for these friends of mine
Lets have another round for the bright red devil
Who keeps me in this tourist town
Come on, carey, get out your cane
Ill put on some silver
Oh youre a mean old daddy, but I like you
Maybe Ill go to amsterdam
Or maybe Ill go to rome
And rent me a grand piano and put some flowers round my room
But lets not talk about fare-thee-welis now
The night is a starry dome.
And theyre playin that scratchy rock and roll
Beneath the matalla moon
Come on, carey, get out your cane
And Ill put on some silver
Youre a mean old daddy, but I like you
The wind is in from africa
Last night I couldnt sleep
Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here
But, its really not my home
Maybe its been too long a time
Since I was scramblin down in the street
Now they got me used to that clean white linen
And that fancy french cologne
Oh carey, get out your cane
Ill put on my finest silver
Well go to the mermaid cafe
Have fun tonight
I said, oh, youre a mean old daddy, but youre out of sight

song performed by Joni Mitchell
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Mariah Carey's Hideous Secret

Now promise you won’t tell anyone
(though what’s the fun of having a secret
if you can’t tell anyone? …)
Mariah Carey
was never a member of the
Mickey Mouse Club
when young, er, younger…

to which

some will say, wow, don’t you know a lot.
some will say, who’s Mariah Carey?
or, who the chic black rock chick cares…
or, smartipantsly, well you could guess couldn’t you.
or just, cool -
…and go on with what they’re doing.
or, didn’t know you had pub quizzes at your local.
or, good for her.
or dead straight like, I didn’t know it was still running,
I remember I was a member of…etc.

or something Village Jewish and TV-scripwriterly like
and were you still dressed when she whispered that?

while LA insiders say, silly girl,
all the big agents say
sign up for Mickey whatever your age
before you audition for Disney Corp's
music side

or it's something deadpan and very NY so you don’t know whether
it’s a joke or not, like
is product placement in poetry a growing market?

or give you that look that they’ve perfected
for sad losers and say
get a life man
it’s a poetry site and you spend your time
on that Minnie-quiz ha ha
how long did it take you to get that one right anyway
when you don’t even know the names of the other three

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Pop Singer

Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
Never had no weird hair to get my songs over.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer (writing) of pop songs.
Never wanted to have my picture taken.
Now, who would want to look into these eyes?
Just want to make it real - good, bad or indifferent.
Thats the way that I live and thats the way that Ill die (as a)
Pop singer (of) pop songs.
Pop singer, writing of pop song.
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never want to write no pop songs.
Never wanted to have a manager over for dinner.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer, writing pop songs.
Never wanted to be no pop singer, of pop songs.
A pop singer.
Never wanted to write no pop songs.

song performed by John Mellencamp
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Nightingale

(mccafferty, sweet, charlton, agnew)
1975 nazareth(dunfermline)ltd.
Sings a sad song for lonely women
Sings about women to lonely men
Sings a peace song to a soldier
Sings about loneliness to a friend
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Sings a melody to haunt you
And some words to make you cry
If youre sad shell make you happy
When youre down shell take you high
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart

song performed by Nazareth
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O Singer of the epic war history

O Singer of the epic war history,
O Singer of life, of liberation hoary,
Of brazen battlefields, long desolate,
O Singer of Gita's ageless glory.

Outlived hast the song thine endless story,
Though war heroes survive still in state,
Frustrated of fate but scarce sorry,
O Singer of the epic war history.

Yudhishthir's dharma, Arjun's archery,
Bheeshma's oath, Bhima's bravery,
Scarce confined remain to Pearly Gate,
And sung are with Gita's ageless glory.

And ye O bard, two roles in one carry:
Of poet laureate and progenitor great,
O ye born in a river ferry,
O Singer of the epic war history

Ye sang thine epic in such swell flurry,
Ganesha, if not quite inadequate,
Lost in thought, felt somewhat weary,
O Singer of ancient ageless glory,

Not mine ‘lone, any pen-pusher's worry
‘Tis to try even to translate,
O Singer of the epic war history,
O Singer of ancient ageless glory.
_______________________________________ __
This is a Villanelle a bit way out. The tercet,
that normally becomes a quatrain only in the last
stanza, is here so in all. Also, the first and the third
lines of the first stanza are repeated with some
modifications.
_____________________________________________ ______
- Villanelle | 02.10.11 |

poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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Solving Mysteries

SOLVING MYSTERIES

Deep mysteries may be solved by analytic clarities,
but then dissolve as you dismantle their disparities,
their solution, if not leading to their dissolution,
depleting them of mystery which has suffered diminution.

Andrew Miller, whose latest novel Pure is about to be published, reviews Peter Carey's The Chemistry of Tears (NYTBR,5/27/10) :

In Peter Carey's 12th novel, much depends on two voices. The first belongs to Catherine Gehrig, an horologist working at the (fictional) Swinburne Museum in London. We join her — she begins to speak to us — at the very moment she learns of the sudden death of her lover, Matthew Tindall, Head Curator of Metals at the same institution. For 13 years, Catherine has been Tindall's mistress. He was older, married, a father, but the pair of them lived a blissful, secret life together. Now Tindall is gone — felled by a heart attack on the Underground — and gone with him, in Catherine's mind, is all good, all possibility of happiness….
Her boss gives her a project, which involves reading a pile of antique notebooks:
The notebooks introduce us to the novel's second voice, that of a wealthy mid-19th-century Englishman, Henry Brandling. As a voice, a narrator, Henry is not, at least at the start, much easier to be with than Catherine. He is fulsome, sentimental, the doting father of an ailing son, a boy whom Henry's wife, still mourning the death of another child, will neither nurse nor comfort. Henry seeks to keep the boy alive by continually exciting his interest in the world, but each success is temporary, and the next focus of interest, of enchantment, must always be more thrilling. So he decides to commission the building of an automaton, and not just any old automaton but a duck — he has seen a picture of it somewhere — that will eat grain, apparently digest it and then, with a whirring of springs, excrete the residue. To get it made he travels to Germany, to the Black Forest, and to the "mighty race of clockmakers" who live there. The notebooks are the journal of his travels, his search for a master technician.
Catherine, reading in the annex or (breaking all museum protocols) at home in her flat, calls Henry's narrative "intriguing, " but the diaries are often dense, awkward to read, somewhat dull. There is at first a type of comedy — the bumptious Englishman abroad, continually misunderstood by or misunderstanding his hosts. But then the tone darkens and takes on the feel of a fairy story by the Brothers Grimm, or something out of those monstrous cautionary tales in Hoffmann's "Straw Peter."
Henry finds his master clockmaker, a large, physically threatening man called Sumper, but Sumper isn't interested in a fecal duck. He has something much grander in mind for Henry and his son, and he teases Henry, torments him, hinting at mechanical wonders of an order the Englishman has not the wit to imagine. He recounts his adventures in Queen Victoria's England, where he worked as assistant to an inventor called Cruickshank, a character clearly modeled on the great Charles Babbage (whose prototype computer, the Difference Engine, has been reconstructed at the Science Museum in London) .
It is here, perhaps, in the watchmaker's hallucinogenic parable, that we come to what Carey is playing with in this novel: the illusory versus the actual, the mechanical versus the organic. The gap, if any, between that which, in its complexity, imitates life, and that which is living and may possess something else, something that isn't simply part of the works. A soul! Carey, of course, isn't going to come down on one side or the other of this venerable debate. Instead, he puts into the mouth of Catherine's boss the still persuasive Romantic plea for ambiguity, for the power and beauty of mysteries, for defending these from "analytical clarities." The closing scenes, in which Catherine and her young assistant finally recreate what Henry Brandling brought back from the forest, are among the best in the book, and the moment when it — the not-a-duck — is set in motion is thrilling.

5/28/12 #10340

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Thank God I Found You

(featuring joe & 98 degrees)
(mariah)
I would give up everything
Before Id separate myself from you
After so much suffering
Ive finally found a man thats true
I was all by myself for the longest time
So cold inside
And the hurt from the heart it would not subside
I felt like dying
Until you saved my life
(chorus - all)
Thank God I found you
I was lost without you
My every wish and every dream
Somehow became reality
When you brought the sunlight
Completed my whole life
Im overwhelmed with gratitude
Cause baby Im so thankful
I found you
(joe)
I would give you everything
Theres nothing in this world I wouldnt do
To ensure your happiness
Ill cherish every part of you
Because without you beside me I cant survive
I dont wanna try
If youre keeping me warm each and every night
Ill be all right
Cause I need you in my life
(chorus - all)
Thank God I found you (Im begging you)
I was lost without you (so lost without you)
My every wish and every dream (every dream, every dream)
Somehow became reality
When you brought the sunlight (brought the sunlight)
Completed my whole life
Im overwhelmed with gratitude
Cause baby Im so thankful
I found you
-bridge- (mariah & joe)
See I was so desolate
Before you came to me
Looking back I guess it shows
That we were destined to shine
After the rain to appreciate
And care for what we have
And Id go through it all over again
To be able to feel this way

[...] Read more

song performed by Mariah Carey
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One And Only

I'm lookin' for my one and only
Every time I turn around
I find my heart in pieces on the ground
So so lonely
I'm lookin' for my one and only
I'm riding home in pain again baby
But that don't mean s*** to you
You're currently engaged
In an intimate conversation
With a young groupie or two
They say "players only love you
when they're playing games"
Still I gave my heart to you
I should have stayed away
Like my friends all told me to
[chorus]
Every time I turn around
I find my heart in pieces on the ground
So so lonely
I'm lookin' for my one and only
Every time I turn around
I find my heart in pieces on the ground
Why can't I find my one and only
See I'm looking for a man that'll rub me slow
Make me sing real high
When he goes down low
But see it ain't just a physical thing
He's gotta treat me affectionately
And I gotta know he won't betray my trust
Just like every other motherf***** does
Is this just an impossible dream baby
To elusive to pursue
It's been such a sad and windy road for me
Just searchin' for the truth
[chorus]
Every time I turn around
I find my heart in pieces on the ground
So so lonely
I'm lookin' for my one and only
Every time I turn around
I find my heart in pieces on the ground
Why can't I find my one and only
Now you know i roll a beamer and a benz
an edition out???
and you trippin on a playa, balla
having bit of conversation while we rollin on 24's
and i know you got doubts why you listening
to what people talkin bout
you aint figure out
why they call ya

[...] Read more

song performed by Mariah Carey
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This Aint Livin

Intro -
This aint livin;
1st verse -
Nigga;
I hear even the smaller gs be dippin chevy impalas;
While flossin they gold ds;
O.gs is who they follow;
We swallow tomorrows seeds;
What we leave is hollow;
We feed violence and greed;
Let em lead tomorrow;
In time they grippin nines;
Sippin wine they wild;
Still I be starin;
Watch the parents sacrifice they child;
The loves gone;
A thugs home;
With no love feelin so strong;
Make young boys in the club dealers;
Now ones for adolescents;
Now dose for doughs;
Keep your friends by your side;
Even close your foes;
Now three for johnny law;
Tryin to take my chips;
I never pulled the trigger;
Didnt touch that bitch;
Throw your hands in the air;
Its a robbery;
_________ think of pac;
Would you ride with me? ;
Lets go see what our enemies talkin bout;
When gs enter the house nobodys walkin out;
This aint livin;
Its similar to prison;
Were trapped;
My homies jealous plus they tell us that the phones is tapped;
I watch my back twenty-four seven;
And never let a busta send a g to ghetto heaven;
Y-ou know;
This is how it goes;
When we floss with flows;
Before I toss your hoes;
It would cost you mo;
I do shows;
Make a lotta dough;
Murder my foes;
But Id give it all up - if it would help you grow;
This aint livin;
Hook 1 -

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song performed by 2 Pac
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The Indications

THE indications, and tally of time;
Perfect sanity shows the master among philosophs;
Time, always without flaw, indicates itself in parts;
What always indicates the poet, is the crowd of the pleasant company
of singers, and their words;
The words of the singers are the hours or minutes of the light or
dark--but the words of the maker of poems are the general light
and dark;
The maker of poems settles justice, reality, immortality,
His insight and power encircle things and the human race,
He is the glory and extract thus far, of things, and of the human
race.

The singers do not beget--only the POET begets;
The singers are welcom'd, understood, appear often enough--but rare
has the day been, likewise the spot, of the birth of the maker
of poems, the Answerer, 10
(Not every century, or every five centuries, has contain'd such a
day, for all its names.)

The singers of successive hours of centuries may have ostensible
names, but the name of each of them is one of the singers,
The name of each is, eye-singer, ear-singer, head-singer, sweet-
singer, echo-singer, parlor-singer, love-singer, or something
else.

All this time, and at all times, wait the words of true poems;
The words of true poems do not merely please,
The true poets are not followers of beauty, but the august masters of
beauty;
The greatness of sons is the exuding of the greatness of mothers and
fathers,
The words of poems are the tuft and final applause of science.

Divine instinct, breadth of vision, the law of reason, health,
rudeness of body, withdrawnness,
Gayety, sun-tan, air-sweetness--such are some of the words of
poems. 20

The sailor and traveler underlie the maker of poems, the answerer;
The builder, geometer, chemist, anatomist, phrenologist, artist--all
these underlie the maker of poems, the answerer.

The words of the true poems give you more than poems,
They give you to form for yourself, poems, religions, politics, war,
peace, behavior, histories, essays, romances, and everything
else,
They balance ranks, colors, races, creeds, and the sexes,
They do not seek beauty--they are sought,
Forever touching them, or close upon them, follows beauty, longing,

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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In My Defence

In my defence what is there to say
All the mistakes we made must be faced today
It's not easy now knowing where to start
While the world we love tears itself apart
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
For just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between
With a fading dream
In my defence what is there to say
We destroy the love - it's our way
We never listen enough never face the truth
Then like a passing song
Love is here and then it's gone
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
For just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between
With a fading dream
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
I'm just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between with a fading dream
Caught in between with a fading dream
Caught in between with a fading dream
Oh what on earth
Oh what on earth
How do I try
Do we live or die
Oh help me God
Please help me

song performed by Queen
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Want To Be The One Who Yah Yahs

I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
Or be the one defeated,
By two unmoving feet.

I don't want to feel them stuck as if cemented,
With a sitting to waste time away.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
Not any time of any day.

I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
I...
Want my happy yah yahs.
I want that in my voice and strong.
I want my yah yahs there and a part...
Of my happiness all day long.

I don't want to be that singer,
Of those blues that sap.
I don't want to be the one that sits,
In a rocking chair to reminisce like that!
I...
Want to be the one who yah yahs.
I want to turn my yah yahs into art!
I want to hear my yah yahs rise,
To echo all over the place.

I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
I...
Want my happy yah yahs.
I want that in my voice and strong.
I want my yah yahs there and a part...
Of my happiness all day long.
I want my yah yahs to never stop,
Drop to fizz or plop!

I don't want to be the one to sing,
About a dues I've paid.
With a blues with me that stays.

I...
Want to be the one who yah yahs.
I want to turn my yah yahs into art!
I'm going to yah yah until someone decides I disturb.
And they threaten to call the cops.

And when those cops arrive they will know,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Is that Sing in me!

All the time listen to that great singer,
The great song, great lyrics sung with great melody,
Someone sings in me and everyone,
' I am you and you are me,
Come and see, we are one! '

But how in this turbulent flow of life,
Is it true, everyone listen this?
Some say caged bird sings,
Some say it is song of soul,
Some say it has a song and it sings,
some try to listen it, some say, when I have my own song how can I listen it?

Fantastic song it is, it the song of the divine,
Song of a dreamer, song of the captain of life,
some listen to it and forget what they are,
Some listen to it and follow the singer,
Some only try to find,
who is the singer,
Only a few can see the singer,
Look at the singer, listen the song,
Where one will be when absorbed by that divine song,
The song that enchanted me
The song that enchant everyone,
It is the God that sings,
' Ah, come to me,
Oh my child, wakeup from dream,
In this dream you are playing,
You are thinking, that you play at things,
wakeup and see, it is I am that playing!
Your sorrows are mine,
My sorrows are yours,
your body is not that cage,
It is my own temple, where I am playing my
own game! '

'Where you want to go,
You are not caged anytime
You only restricted yourself
Building a cage, you yourself sat inside
Then closed the door of cage
And that is the foolishness separated us'

'Oh dear child open the door at least that of window
of heart!
You went on sail, setting your own map,
But lured by various destinations,
One better than another, lost the plan and map,
Wonder and wander
here and there for

[...] Read more

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Polyhymnia

[Polyhymnia: Describing, The honourable Triumph at Tylt,
before her Maiestie, on the 17. of Nouember, last past,
being the first day of the three and thirtith yeare of
her Highnesse raigne. With Sir Henrie Lea, his resignation
of honour at Tylt, to her Maiestie, and receiued by the right
honourable, the Earle of Cumberland.]

[Polyhimnia. Entituled, with all dutie to the Right
Honourable, Lord Compton of Compton.]

Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,
Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,
Elizabeth great Empresse of the world,
Britanias Atlas, Star of Englands globe,
That swaies the massie scepter of her land,
And holdes the royall raynes of Albion:
Began the gladsome sunnie day to shine,
That drawes in length date of her golden raigne:
And thirtie three shee numbreth in her throne:
That long in happinesse and peace (I pray)
May number manie to these thirtie three.
Wherefore it fares as whilom and of yore,
In armour bright and sheene, faire Englands knights
In honour of their peerelesse Soueraigne:
High Maistresse of their seruice, thoughtes and liues
Make to the Tyltamaine: and trumpets sound,
And princelie Coursers neigh, and champ the byt,
When all addrest for deeds of high deuoyre,
Preace to the sacred presence of their Prince.

The 1. couple. Sir Henrie Lea. The Earle of Cumberland.

Mightie in Armes, mounted on puissant horse,
Knight of the Crown in rich imbroderie,
And costlie faire Caparison charg'd with Crownes,
Oreshadowed with a withered running Vine,
As who would say, My spring of youth is past:
In Corslet gylt of curious workmanship,
Sir Henry Lea, redoubted man at Armes.
Leades in the troopes, whom woorthie Cumberland
Thrice noble Earle, aucutred as became
So greate a Warriour and so good a Knight.
Encountred first, yclad in coate of steele,
And plumes and pendants al as white as Swanne,
And speare in rest, right readie to performe
What long'd vnto the honour of the place.
Together went these Champions, horse and man,
Thundring along the Tylt, that at the shocke

[...] Read more

poem by George Peele
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Coomera

THERE’S a pretty little story with a touch of moonlit glory
Comes from Beenleigh on the Logan, but we don’t know if it’s true;
For we scarcely dare to credit ev’rything they say who edit
Those unhappy country papers ’twixt the ocean and Barcoo.

’Twas the man who owned the wherry at the first Coomera ferry
Who was sitting cold and lonely while he counted out his tin;
When the cloudy curtain lifting let the moonlight on a drifting
Boat, that floated down the river with a pallid form therein.

And they say that Sergeant Carey (with the man who ran the ferry),
Started down to save the body from the cruel heartless sea,
And in spite of wind and water, soon they reached the barque and caught her;
And they tied the boat behind them while they wondered “who was he?”

O the moon shone bright as ever as they towed him up the river,
And they found within the pocket that was nearest to his breast—
Just an antidote for sorrow, that would tide him o’er the morrow—
(Flask of Brandy); but we’d better draw the curtain o’er the rest.

Yet, in case the point’s too finely drawn (we know we joke divinely),
And the reader fails to see it with a magnifying glass,
We will say the man who floated, while the moonlight o’er him gloated,
Was not dead and gone to heaven—he was only drunk, alas!THERE’S a pretty little story with a touch of moonlit glory
Comes from Beenleigh on the Logan, but we don’t know if it’s true;
For we scarcely dare to credit ev’rything they say who edit
Those unhappy country papers ’twixt the ocean and Barcoo.

’Twas the man who owned the wherry at the first Coomera ferry
Who was sitting cold and lonely while he counted out his tin;
When the cloudy curtain lifting let the moonlight on a drifting
Boat, that floated down the river with a pallid form therein.

And they say that Sergeant Carey (with the man who ran the ferry),
Started down to save the body from the cruel heartless sea,
And in spite of wind and water, soon they reached the barque and caught her;
And they tied the boat behind them while they wondered “who was he?”

O the moon shone bright as ever as they towed him up the river,
And they found within the pocket that was nearest to his breast—
Just an antidote for sorrow, that would tide him o’er the morrow—
(Flask of Brandy); but we’d better draw the curtain o’er the rest.

Yet, in case the point’s too finely drawn (we know we joke divinely),
And the reader fails to see it with a magnifying glass,
We will say the man who floated, while the moonlight o’er him gloated,
Was not dead and gone to heaven—he was only drunk, alas!
For we scarcely dare to credit ev’rything they say who edit
Those unhappy country papers ’twixt the ocean and Barcoo.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
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