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The portrait of my parents is a complicated one, but lovingly drawn.

quote by Joyce Maynard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Microphone Fiend

Yo, I was a fiend before I became a teen
I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream
Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated
Shot grabbed the mic and try to say, yes yall!
They tried to take it, and say that Im too small
Cool, cause I dont get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab ...without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the another one, then I make another one
To dis the opposite then ask if the brothers done
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine
But I dont need a cigarette, know what I mean?
Im raging, ripping up the stage and
Dont it sound amazing cause every rhyme is made and
Thought of, cuz its sort of...an addiction,
Magnatized by the mixing
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
But back to the problem, I gotta habit,
You cant solve it, you silly rabbit
The prescription is a hypertone thats thorough when
I fiend for a microphone like heroin
Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix
Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix
And Ill put you in a mood or is it a state of
Unawareness? beware, its the reanamator!
A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon
An assasinator, if the people aint stepping
You see a part of me that you never seen
When Im fiending for a microphone.
Cause I take it to the maximum, I cant relax see, im
Hype as a hyperchrondriac cause the rap be one
Hell of a antidote, something you cant smoke
More than dope, youre trying to move away but you cant, youre broke
More than cracked up, you should have backed up
For those who act up need to be more than smacked up
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.

[...] Read more

song performed by Rage Against The Machine
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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What Parents When Old, Want From Their Children …

When you were small, a helpless kid,
Just imagine what parents did,
From feeding to keeping you clean –
A routine that had always been!

And now when parents are quite aged,
They feel like birds both that are caged;
Just give them half the love they gave;
Don’t lose your temper / misbehave!

When you were small and could not bathe,
Mom bathed you with towel to swathe,
And wiped you dry and combed your hair,
All your mischief, she had to bear!

When parents are now pretty old,
Or have a fever, catch a cold,
Should not the children care for them,
And treat them for each new problem?

When you were just a little child,
And parents scolded you so mild,
To show you what was wrong and right,
And chalk a future that was bright!

And now when parents have gone weak,
To walk, your assistance, they seek,
Oblige them with a heart all glad:
Old age is less happy, much sad!

When you were craving for good food,
Your mother cooked it as she should,
And heaved a sigh of great relief,
When you’d slept, in disbelief!

And now, when parents ask something,
Be kind and courteously do bring,
They cannot buy whatev’r they feel;
They cannot run or walk or kneel!

When you’d joined school for the first time,
And could not say even a rhyme,
Your mom had taught you how to write,
And sang a ‘lullaby’ at night!

And now when parents cannot read,
And reached a stage, they cannot feed,
Shouldn’t children help them with these chores,
And see that they don’t get bed-sores?

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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She was a complicated woman

She was a complicated woman
Emotions led her here
She loved her cats and nature
She loved to feed the deer.
She loved to play the piano
She loved to watch TV
She loved to sit around the house
She loved to talk to me

She was a complicated woman
Her anger could get mean
Her emails could get nasty
As mean as you've ever seen

She was a complicated woman
The best friend that she could be
Always there to listen
Always there for me
If you needed help you asked her
It didn't matter the task
She lived to make you happy
A smile was her mask

She was a complicated woman
So sad and so alone
She'd hide her heart and feelings
She'd turn it into stone
Why she couldn't find love
Is a mystery unto me
Her stone would turn to acid
Her pain would drip and bleed

She was a complicated woman
This world wasn't her era
She'd rather live on the prairie
Or in a house named Tara

She was a complicated woman
So talented so smart
Creative with her hobbies
Made by love from the heart
From needlepoint to minis
Dollhouses and crochet
She wrote and played piano
So much more to say

She was a complicated woman
She liked fast cars and smoking
Shopping and some cussing
Rock and roll and joking

[...] Read more

poem by Kathleen J. Shields
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Complicated Shadows

Well you know your time has come and youre sorry for what youve done
You shouldve never have been playing with a gun
In those complicated shadows
Well theres a line that you must toe
And itll soon be time to go
But its darker than you know in those complicated shadows
All you gangsters and rude clowns
Who were shooting up the town
When you should have found someone to put the blame on
Though the furys hot and hard
I still see that cold graveyard
Theres a solitary stone thats got your name on
You dont have to take it from me
But I know what I spake
You think youre like iron and steel
But iron and steel will bend and break
In those complicated shadows
Go!
Sometimes justice you will find
Is just dumb not colour-blind
And your poor shattered mind cant take it all in
All those phantoms and those shades
Should jump up on judgement day
And say to the almighty Im still stinking of sin
But the jury was dismissed
Took his neck and they give it a twist
So you see you wont be missed in those complicated shadows
You can say just what you like in a voice like a john ford film
Take the law into your hands
You will soon get tired of killing
In those complicated shadows
Complicated shadows
Complicated shadows
Complicated shadows
Go!

song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Complicated Melody

If he were a color
Hed be a deep dark forrest green
If he were a car
Hed be a long stretch limousine
With room for all of humanity inside
Cause he is so giving
And he is so wise
If he were a number
Hed be a five cause he has such a brilliant mind
If he were an animal
Hed be an ass cause hes so stubborn sometime
But if he were a song
Hed be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key
But he means the world to me
If he were a building
Hed be a beautiful cathedral
Cause hes so traditionally spiritual
If he were a dance
Hed be complicated like the tango
Exotic like a mango
But if he were a song
Hed be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key
But he means the world to me
He aint the reason for the sun and the moon
He is just the reason for this here tune
Cause he means the world to me (ooh ooh)
Said he means the world to me
Me me me yeah
He means the world to me yeah
Complicated melody that complicated fellow he
Hes a complicated melody
I almost can not sing it on key

song performed by India Arie
Added by Lucian Velea
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So Complicated

So complicated, so complicated
Just wanna blow my horn
So complicated, so complicated
Just wanna know the score
Are you telling me that everythings fine
When I cant even tie my shoes
Better get into a new frame of mind
When I dont have to think about the business no more
'cause I just wanna blow my horn
The telephone is ringing out
But it dont understand my blues
And how much longer will it take
Until they get the news
The weather man said it was good
He forecast it was truly great
So if you change your train of thought
You know it wont be late
Too complicated, too complicated
You know this crazy scene
Too complicated, too complicated
No one says what they mean
Are you telling me that everythings fine
When I cant even tie my shoes
Better get into a new frame of mind
When I dont have to think about the business no more
'cause I just wanna blow my horn.

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Double Image

1.

I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go queer,
flapping in the winter rain.
falling flat and washed. And I remember
mostly the three autumns you did not live here.
They said I'd never get you back again.
I tell you what you'll never really know:
all the medical hypothesis
that explained my brain will never be as true as these
struck leaves letting go.

I, who chose two times
to kill myself, had said your nickname
the mewling mouths when you first came;
until a fever rattled
in your throat and I moved like a pantomine
above your head. Ugly angels spoke to me. The blame,
I heard them say, was mine. They tattled
like green witches in my head, letting doom
leak like a broken faucet;
as if doom had flooded my belly and filled your bassinet,
an old debt I must assume.

Death was simpler than I'd thought.
The day life made you well and whole
I let the witches take away my guilty soul.
I pretended I was dead
until the white men pumped the poison out,
putting me armless and washed through the rigamarole
of talking boxes and the electric bed.
I laughed to see the private iron in that hotel.
Today the yellow leaves
go queer. You ask me where they go I say today believed
in itself, or else it fell.

Today, my small child, Joyce,
love your self's self where it lives.
There is no special God to refer to; or if there is,
why did I let you grow
in another place. You did not know my voice
when I came back to call. All the superlatives
of tomorrow's white tree and mistletoe
will not help you know the holidays you had to miss.
The time I did not love
myself, I visited your shoveled walks; you held my glove.
There was new snow after this.

[...] Read more

poem by Anne Sexton
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Un Fantôme (A Phantom)

I Les Ténèbres

Dans les caveaux d'insondable tristesse
Où le Destin m'a déjà relégué;
Où jamais n'entre un rayon rose et gai;
Où, seul avec la Nuit, maussade hôtesse,

Je suis comme un peintre qu'un Dieu moqueur
Condamne à peindre, hélas! sur les ténèbres;
Où, cuisinier aux appétits funèbres,
Je fais bouillir et je mange mon coeur,

Par instants brille, et s'allonge, et s'étale
Un spectre fait de grâce et de splendeur.
À sa rêveuse allure orientale,
Quand il atteint sa totale grandeur,
Je reconnais ma belle visiteuse:

C'est Elle! noire et pourtant lumineuse.

II Le Parfum

Lecteur, as-tu quelquefois respiré
Avec ivresse et lente gourmandise
Ce grain d'encens qui remplit une église,
Ou d'un sachet le musc invétéré?

Charme profond, magique, dont nous grise
Dans le présent le passé restauré!
Ainsi l'amant sur un corps adoré
Du souvenir cueille la fleur exquise.

De ses cheveux élastiques et lourds,
Vivant sachet, encensoir de l'alcôve,
Une senteur montait, sauvage et fauve,

Et des habits, mousseline ou velours,
Tout imprégnés de sa jeunesse pure,
Se dégageait un parfum de fourrure.

III Le Cadre

Comme un beau cadre ajoute à la peinture,
Bien qu'elle soit d'un pinceau très-vanté,
Je ne sais quoi d'étrange et d'enchanté
En l'isolant de l'immense nature,

Ainsi bijoux, meubles, métaux, dorure,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Least Complicated

I sit two stories above the street
Its awful quiet here since love fell asleep
Theres life down below me though
The kids are walking home from school
Some long ago when we were taught
That for whatever kind of puzzle you got
You just stick the right formula in
A solution for every fool
I remember the time when I came so close to you
Sent me skipping my class and running from school
And I bought you that ring cause I never was cool
What makes me think I could start clean slated
The hardest to learn was the least complicated
So I just sit up in the house and resist
And not be seen until I cease to exist
A kind of conscientious objection
A kind of dodging the draft
The boy and girl are holding hands on the street
And I dont want to but I think you just wait
Its more than just eye to eye
Learn the things I could never apply
I remember the time when I came so close with you
I let everything go it seemed the only truth
And I bought you that ring, it seemed the thing to do
What makes me think I could start clean slated
The hardest to learn was the least complicated
So what makes me think I could start clean slated
The hardest to learn was the least complicated
Im just a mirror of a mirror myself
All the things that I do
And the next time I fall Im gonna have to recall
Its isnt love its only something new
I sit two stories above the street
Its awful quiet here since love fell asleep
Theres life down below me though
The kids are walking home from school
Im remember the time when I came so close with you
Sent me skipping my class and running from school
And I bought you that ring cause I never was cool
What makes me think I could start clean slated
The hardest to learn was the least complicated
So what makes me think I could start clean slated
The hardest to learn was the least complicated
The least complicated
The least complicated

song performed by Indigo Girls
Added by Lucian Velea
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 02: The Screen Maiden

You read—what is it, then that you are reading?
What music moves so silently in your mind?
Your bright hand turns the page.
I watch you from my window, unsuspected:
You move in an alien land, a silent age . . .

. . . The poet—what was his name—? Tokkei—Tokkei—
The poet walked alone in a cold late rain,
And thought his grief was like the crying of sea-birds;
For his lover was dead, he never would love again.

Rain in the dreams of the mind—rain forever—
Rain in the sky of the heart—rain in the willows—
But then he saw this face, this face like flame,
This quiet lady, this portrait by Hiroshigi;
And took it home with him; and with it came

What unexpected changes, subtle as weather!
The dark room, cold as rain,
Grew faintly fragrant, stirred with a stir of April,
Warmed its corners with light again,

And smoke of incense whirled about this portrait,
And the quiet lady there,
So young, so quietly smiling, with calm hands,
Seemed ready to loose her hair,

And smile, and lean from the picture, or say one word,
The word already clear,
Which seemed to rise like light between her eyelids . .
He held his breath to hear,

And smiled for shame, and drank a cup of wine,
And held a candle, and searched her face
Through all the little shadows, to see what secret
Might give so warm a grace . . .

Was it the quiet mouth, restrained a little?
The eyes, half-turned aside?
The jade ring on her wrist, still almost swinging? . . .
The secret was denied,

He chose his favorite pen and drew these verses,
And slept; and as he slept
A dream came into his heart, his lover entered,
And chided him, and wept.

And in the morning, waking, he remembered,
And thought the dream was strange.
Why did his darkened lover rise from the garden?

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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I'm Not One Of Those Peephole Old People

I'm not a portrait painting on a canvas.
Waiting for a visit to exhibit.
I'm not one of those peephole old people...
Peeking out of keyholes all day,
Hey...
I,
Am much...
Alive.

I'm not a portrait painting on a canvas.
Waiting for a visit to exhibit.

I,
Am much...
Alive.

I,
Am much...
Alive.

I'm not one of those peephole old people,
Peeking out of keyholes all day!
I'm not a portrait painting on a canvas.
Waiting for a visit to exhibit.

I,
Am much...
Alive.

I,
Am much...
Alive.

I'm not a portrait painting on a canvas.
Waiting for a visit to exhibit.
I'm not one of those peephole old people...
Peeking out of keyholes all day,
Hey...
I'm not a portrait painting on a canvas.
Waiting for a visit to exhibit.
I'm not one of those peephole old people...
Peeking out of keyholes all day,
Hey...
I,
Am much...
Alive.

I'm not one of those peephole old people.

I,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Man In The Middle

(m gibb, b gibb)
Youve got a plan that could never go wrong
You took advantage and the damage done
It all comes back to me baby
It all comes back to me
I played the fool and I went off the track
And when I think of all it cost
When the die was cast
You know I had to be crazy
You know I had to be
Ive been telling lies
And you forgive me but my heart still cries
And you can understand
Im just the man in the middle
Of a complicated plan
No one to show me the signs
Im just a creature of habit
In a complicated world
Nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide
I know I let you down in so many ways
I know that sorry doesnt tell you
What you need me to say
But, I would die for you baby
Yes, I would die for you
Ive been in disguise
And you forgive me and our love will rise
And you can understand
Im just the man in the middle
Of a complicated plan
No one to show me the light
Ah,yes, Im weary from battle
But Ive just begun to fight
Nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide
Im just the man in the middle
Of a complicated plan
No one to show me the signs
Im just a creature of habit
In a complicated world
Nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide
Im just the man in the middle
Of a complicated plan
No one to show me the light
Ah, yes, Im weary from battle
But Ive just begun to fight
Nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide
Im just the man in the middle

[...] Read more

song performed by Bee Gees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Complicated Questions

Easy to be taken with everything youre saying
Make us perfect and say it all again
But if every single seconds killing
Tell me Im dreaming
Ill sleep it all away
Tear out this love
Tear up the root
Tear out this love
Tear me from you
You know you can tell me anything you want to
Tell me something that Id never know
Could be cautious as the words roll over your tongue
Im stung with sick discovery
Tear me from these complicated questions
Taking all the empty spaces inside me
But complicated answers never did you any justice anyway
Complicated as we are were going have to burn it all away
Complicated answers take up all the empty spaces inside me
But complicated answers never did you any justice anyway
Complicated as we are were going to tear out this love

song performed by Finger Eleven
Added by Lucian Velea
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Simply Complicated

When you find out things about yourself
that you hadn't thought to know.
When your grandma calls
and books you on the Jerry Springer show.
And you find out you and your wife for ten years,
just might be related
Brother, life's not over,
it's just simply complicated.
There's other situations
that might challenge you, I guess
When your daughter tries out for the footbal team
and your son tries on her dress
And you start to think that the devil's in charge
of how you're situated.
Life is still worth livin
It's just simply complicated.
Life is complicated with its
ifs and ands and buts.
It's alright to be crazy,
just don't let it drive you nuts!
My daughter wants to go on dates,
I think I'll let her go.
But she better not be movin'
at the movin' picture show.
Her stops by all those honky tonks
and getin' aviated
aint it all a caution?
Its just simply complicated.
Now I'm havin a big problem
with my present-day career
My ship, she has a rudder
but I don't know where to steer.
Am I country, pop or rock-and-roll?
I know they are related.
I'll just let you be the judge.
It's simply complicated.
Life is complicated with its
ifs and ands and buts.
It's alright to be crazy,
just don't let it drive you nuts!

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Complicated Life

Well I woke this morning with a pain in my neck,
A pain in my heart and a pain in my chest,
I went to the good doctor and the good doctor said,
You gotta slow down your life or youre gonna be dead,
Cut out the struggle and strife,
It only complicates your life.
Well I cut down women I cut out booze,
I stopped ironing my shirts, cleaning my shoes,
I stopped going to work, reading the news,
Im sitting twiddling my thumbs cos I got nothing to do,
Minimal exercise,
To help uncomplicate my life,
Gotta stand and face it life is so complicated,
Ladi dah di dahdah, ladi dah di dah dah,
Got to get away from the complicated life son,
Life is overated, life is complicated,
Must aleviate this, complicated life.
Like old mother hubbard
I got nothin in the cupboard,
Got no dinner and I got no supper,
Holes in my shoes I got holes in my socks,
I cant go to work cos I cant get a job,
The bills are rising sky high,
Its such a complicated life,
Gotta stand and face it,
Life is so complicated.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia

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

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

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Upon The Disobedient Child

Children become, while little, our delights!
When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's.
Their sinful nature prompts them to rebel,
And to delight in paths that lead to hell.
Their parents' love and care they overlook,
As if relation had them quite forsook.
They take the counsels of the wanton's, rather
Than the most grave instructions of a father.
They reckon parents ought to do for them,
Though they the fifth commandment do contemn;
They snap and snarl if parents them control,
Though but in things most hurtful to the soul.
They reckon they are masters, and that we
Who parents are, should to them subject be!
If parents fain would have a hand in choosing,
The children have a heart will in refusing.
They'll by wrong doings, under parents gather,
And say it is no sin to rob a father.
They'll jostle parents out of place and power,
They'll make themselves the head, and them devour.
How many children, by becoming head,
Have brought their parents to a piece of bread!
Thus they who, at the first, were parents joy,
Turn that to bitterness, themselves destroy.
But, wretched child, how canst thou thus requite
Thy aged parents, for that great delight
They took in thee, when thou, as helpless, lay
In their indulgent bosoms day by day?
Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth,
Took care thou shouldst want neither food nor cloth.
Thy father glad was at his very heart,
Had he to thee a portion to impart.
Comfort they promised themselves in thee,
But thou, it seems, to them a grief wilt be.
How oft, how willingly brake they their sleep,
If thou, their bantling, didst but winch or weep.
Their love to thee was such they could have giv'n,
That thou mightst live, almost their part of heav'n.
But now, behold how they rewarded are!
For their indulgent love and tender care;
All is forgot, this love he doth despise.
They brought this bird up to pick out their eyes.

poem by John Bunyan
Added by Poetry Lover
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Hes The Dj, Im The Rapper

Artist: jazzy jeff & the fresh prince
You know parents are the same
No matter time nor place
They dont understand that us kids
Are going to make some mistakes
So to you, all the kids all across the land
Theres no need to argue
Parents just dont understand
Parents 24 lines, 734 characters.
I remember one year
My mom took me school shopping
It was me, my brother, my mom, oh, my pop, and my little sister
All hopped in the car
We headed downtown to the gallery mall
My mom started bugging with the clothes she chose
I didnt say nothing at first
I just turned up my nose
She said, whats wrong? this shirt cost $20
I said, mom, this shirt is plaid with a butterfly collar!
The next half hour was the same old thing
My mother buying me clothes from 1963
And then she lost her mind and did the ultimate
I asked her for adidas and she bought me zips!
I said, mom, what are you doing, youre ruining my rep
She said, youre only sixteen, you dont have a rep yet
I said, mom, lets put these clothes back, please
She said no, you go to school to learn not for a fashion show
I said, this isnt sha na na, come on mom, Im not bowzer
Mom, please put back the bell-bottom brady bunch trousers
But if you dont want to I can live with that but
You gotta put back the double-knit reversible slacks
She wasnt moved - everything stayed the same
Inevitably the first day of school came
I thought I could get over, I tried to play sick
But my mom said, no, no way, uh-uh, forget it
There was nothing I could do, I tried to relax
I got dressed up in those ancient artifacts
And when I walked into school, it was just as I thought
The kids were cracking up laughing at the clothes mom bought
And those who werent laughing still had a ball
Because they were pointing and whispering
As I walked down the hall
I got home and told my mom how my day went
She said, if they were laughing you dont need the,
Cause theyre not good friends
For the next six hours I tried to explain to my mom
That I was gonna have to go through this about 200 more times
So to you all the kids all across the land
Theres no need to argue
Parents just dont understand

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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