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With the art therapy, as soon as they saw the paper and crayons coming, we couldn't get it out fast enough. And we told them to draw about the tsunami.

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Therapy

Therapy therapy
Lost sight-I think I'm getting out of my range
Colors flash-now things are starting to get strange
Start it up-and you say you wanna get in on me, I need I need I need my
Therapy-now just relax we'll put your mind at ease
Therapy-but first you've got to say "pretty please"
Therapy therapy
Fire it up-put a little gas on the brain
All aboard-a ride on the newest thang
Chew chew-lookt out it's a runaway train, pure pain, no gain, insane it's
Therapy-and right before they dig into my mind
Therapy-the Dr. screams "let's got it's party time"
Therapy therapy
Left right left right-like every heartbeat needs a motion
Left right left right-like every wave needs a sea
Left right left right-like every teardrop needs a eyeball
Left right left right-you've got to name your therapy
Therapy! Therapy! Therapy!
Therapy Therapy
Snap pop-a sweet emotion just broke loose
Don't care-it ain't nothing I can use
Ha! Ha!-ain't it funny how we all abuse you choose, abuse, you lose now
Therapy-you know we want to help we really care
Therapy-but when your money's gone you're out of here!

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Therapy (feat. Ozzy Osbourne)

Muir-Trujillo
Therapy therapy
Lost sight-I think I'm getting out of my range
Colors flash-now things are starting to get strange
Start it up-and you say you wanna get in on me, I need I need I need my
Therapy-now just relax we'll put your mind at ease
Therapy-but first you've got to say "pretty please"
Therapy therapy
Fire it up-put a little gas on the brain
All aboard-a ride on the newest thang
Chew chew-lookt out it's a runaway train, pure pain, no gain, insane it's
Therapy-and right before they dig into my mind
Therapy-the Dr. screams "let's got it's party time"
Therapy therapy
Left right left right-like every heartbeat needs a motion
Left right left right-like every wave needs a sea
Left right left right-like every teardrop needs a eyeball
Left right left right-you've got to name your therapy
Therapy! Therapy! Therapy!
Therapy Therapy
Snap pop-a sweet emotion just broke loose
Don't care-it ain't nothing I can use
Ha! Ha!-ain't it funny how we all abuse you choose, abuse, you lose now
Therapy-you know we want to help we really care
Therapy-but when your money's gone you're out of here!

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Psycho Therapy

Psycho Therapy
Psycho Therapy
Psycho Therapy
That's what they wanna give me
Psycho Therapy
Psycho Therapy
Psycho Therapy
All they wanna give me

I am a teenage schizoid
The one your parent despise
Psycho Therapy
Now I got glowing eyes

I am a teenage schizoid
Pranks and muggings are fun
Psycho Therapy
Gonna kill someone

Psycho Therapy
Psycho Therapy

I like takin' Tuinal
It keeps me edgy and mean
I am a teenage schizoid
I am a teenage dope fiend

I am a kid in the nut house
I am a kid in the psycho zone
Psycho Therapy
I'm gonna burglarize your home

Psycho Therapy
Psycho Therapy


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Eclogue 8: To Pollio Damon Alphesiboeus

Of Damon and Alphesiboeus now,
Those shepherd-singers at whose rival strains
The heifer wondering forgot to graze,
The lynx stood awe-struck, and the flowing streams,
Unwonted loiterers, stayed their course to hear-
How Damon and Alphesiboeus sang
Their pastoral ditties, will I tell the tale.

Thou, whether broad Timavus' rocky banks
Thou now art passing, or dost skirt the shore
Of the Illyrian main,- will ever dawn
That day when I thy deeds may celebrate,
Ever that day when through the whole wide world
I may renown thy verse- that verse alone
Of Sophoclean buskin worthy found?
With thee began, to thee shall end, the strain.
Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee,
And deign around thy temples to let creep
This ivy-chaplet 'twixt the conquering bays.

Scarce had night's chilly shade forsook the sky
What time to nibbling sheep the dewy grass
Tastes sweetest, when, on his smooth shepherd-staff
Of olive leaning, Damon thus began.

DAMON
'Rise, Lucifer, and, heralding the light,
Bring in the genial day, while I make moan
Fooled by vain passion for a faithless bride,
For Nysa, and with this my dying breath
Call on the gods, though little it bestead-
The gods who heard her vows and heeded not.

'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Ever hath Maenalus his murmuring groves
And whispering pines, and ever hears the songs
Of love-lorn shepherds, and of Pan, who first
Brooked not the tuneful reed should idle lie.

'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Nysa to Mopsus given! what may not then
We lovers look for? soon shall we see mate
Griffins with mares, and in the coming age
Shy deer and hounds together come to drink.

'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Now, Mopsus, cut new torches, for they bring
Your bride along; now, bridegroom, scatter nuts:
Forsaking Oeta mounts the evening star!

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Eclogue VIII

TO POLLIO, DAMON, ALPHESIBOEUS

Of Damon and Alphesiboeus now,
Those shepherd-singers at whose rival strains
The heifer wondering forgot to graze,
The lynx stood awe-struck, and the flowing streams,
Unwonted loiterers, stayed their course to hear-
How Damon and Alphesiboeus sang
Their pastoral ditties, will I tell the tale.
Thou, whether broad Timavus' rocky banks
Thou now art passing, or dost skirt the shore
Of the Illyrian main,- will ever dawn
That day when I thy deeds may celebrate,
Ever that day when through the whole wide world
I may renown thy verse- that verse alone
Of Sophoclean buskin worthy found?
With thee began, to thee shall end, the strain.
Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee,
And deign around thy temples to let creep
This ivy-chaplet 'twixt the conquering bays.
Scarce had night's chilly shade forsook the sky
What time to nibbling sheep the dewy grass
Tastes sweetest, when, on his smooth shepherd-staff
Of olive leaning, Damon thus began.

Damon.
'Rise, Lucifer, and, heralding the light,
Bring in the genial day, while I make moan
Fooled by vain passion for a faithless bride,
For Nysa, and with this my dying breath
Call on the gods, though little it bestead-
The gods who heard her vows and heeded not.
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Ever hath Maenalus his murmuring groves
And whispering pines, and ever hears the songs
Of love-lorn shepherds, and of Pan, who first
Brooked not the tuneful reed should idle lie.
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Nysa to Mopsus given! what may not then
We lovers look for? soon shall we see mate
Griffins with mares, and in the coming age
Shy deer and hounds together come to drink.
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Now, Mopsus, cut new torches, for they bring
Your bride along; now, bridegroom, scatter nuts:
Forsaking Oeta mounts the evening star!
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
O worthy of thy mate, while all men else
Thou scornest, and with loathing dost behold
My shepherd's pipe, my goats, my shaggy brow,

[...] Read more

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Blissful Queen

Blissful queen
Magazine
Making art
Stuck between
Limosines
Break my heart
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
Blissful queen
Sweet sixteen
Brand new car
Hit machine
Keep her clean
Razor sharp
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
Blissful queen
Velveteen
Shining star
Glistening
Wedding ring
Gone too far
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby

[...] Read more

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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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

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Clint Eastwood. Ed Case Refix

Bu-whoa!
Dis da man you call Sweet alongside a man called Ed Case
Wit da Gorillaz
The refix
Can I See It
Na na na alright
Na na na oh
It's a bigger o'ting - cha!
I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine, in a bag
I'm useless,but not for long
The future is coming on
I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine, in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on...
Ah ah ah ah
Give 'em some ah ah
Ah ah ah ah
Bigger oh ah ah
Oh!
(?)
Oh!
Off with ya clothes with the cure
Oh!
(?)
(?)
Tell me cos I'm oh!
(?)
Oh!
(?)
(?) On the dance floor
Oh!
Come on... we're makin' money
Oh!
(?) Talks to me funny
Oh!
(?)
(?)
Feel my emotion
Feel my emotion
Music is from the street
Designed to make you move your feet and
Feel my emotion

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Paper Thin

Rich and wealthy canvas
Clustered up in jewels
Finding all your heavyweights
Are featherweights and fools
Broken all your promises
Broken all your paper plates
Clustered in gold
Crusted in gold
Heavy and hollow
Look at the shape were in
Find us here
Paper thin
Heavy and humble
Look at the shape were in
Find us here
Paper thin
In origami cities
In nations build on sand
Love got bend right outta shape
Things got outta hand
Polystyrene skylines
Papier mch smiles
Rusted and bruised
Tarnished and frail
Heavy and hollow
Look at the shape were in
Find us here
Paper thin
Heavy and humble
Look at the shape were in
Find us here
Paper thin
Stars scrape the moon
And the moon scrapes the sky
We stand beneath
Wondering why
Stars scrape the moon
And the moon scrapes the sky
We stand beneath
Wondering, wondering why
Paper buys the men
The men that make the bomb
The bomb that makes this world
Paper thin!
Money markets crumble
Gentle as a drum
But if you see me stumble, im
Paper thin!
Life is but a fragile thing
So delicate and pure

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Gareth And Lynette

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent,
And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring
Stared at the spate. A slender-shafted Pine
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away.
'How he went down,' said Gareth, 'as a false knight
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Were mine to use--O senseless cataract,
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy--
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows
And mine is living blood: thou dost His will,
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know,
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall
Linger with vacillating obedience,
Prisoned, and kept and coaxed and whistled to--
Since the good mother holds me still a child!
Good mother is bad mother unto me!
A worse were better; yet no worse would I.
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer,
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,
A knight of Arthur, working out his will,
To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, when he came
With Modred hither in the summertime,
Asked me to tilt with him, the proven knight.
Modred for want of worthier was the judge.
Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,
"Thou hast half prevailed against me," said so--he--
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute,
For he is alway sullen: what care I?'

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair
Asked, 'Mother, though ye count me still the child,
Sweet mother, do ye love the child?' She laughed,
'Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.'
'Then, mother, an ye love the child,' he said,
'Being a goose and rather tame than wild,
Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my well-beloved,
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.'

And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes,
'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine
Was finer gold than any goose can lay;
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours.
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw

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Spaceface

she don't need no rocket ship (rocket ship rocket ship)
just close her eyes and takes a trip
baby's big on aviation (aviation aviation)
baby loves a levitation (levitation)
yes shes a spaceface going round
shes never coming down (coming down coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down)
never coming down
never coming down (coming down coming down)
baby's talking to the stars
aint got time for idle wars (space space space)
and i don't worry anyway
as long as i know shes ok (shes ok)
yes shes a spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down coming down)
shes a spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down coming down)
never coming down (coming down)
dont know what you see
i'll be there if you wait for me
i will soon be home
i'll be there if you're not alone
ah spaceface
my little spaceface
ah spaceface
never falling down
never falling down
yeah, shes a spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (never coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (never coming down)
never coming down
never coming down
never coming down
she never coming down
never coming down

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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

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Trusting In Protective Modern Sea Walls

modern Japan trusting in God science
trusting in protective modern sea walls
but modern sea walls too low are built
built to height of smaller 1960 tsunami

walls failed to protect new coastal towns
in Japan's destructive recent huge tsunami
sweeping way communities once built right
to sea water's edge trusting in sea walls built

designed built after deadly small 1960 tsunami
ignoring hundreds of ancient tsunami markers
stone tsunami warnings hundreds dot coastline
'If an earthquake comes, beware of tsunamis'

modern Japan this time heed ancient wisdom
ancestors in earlier generations left warnings
'Octopus Grounds' are places sea life washed
up by tsunami gives warnings naming temples

after powerful tsunami waves gives warnings
stone markers warned of danger to coastal lives
'Always be prepared for unexpected tsunamis.
Choose life over your possessions and valuables.'

people trusting in protective modern sea walls
did not listen after earthquake people went back
to their homes to collect valuables all got caught
in choosing possessions riches lives were lost


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Matthew Arnold

Sohrab and Rustum

And the first grey of morning fill'd the east,
And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream.
But all the Tartar camp along the stream
Was hush'd, and still the men were plunged in sleep;
Sohrab alone, he slept not; all night long
He had lain wakeful, tossing on his bed;
But when the grey dawn stole into his tent,
He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword,
And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent,
And went abroad into the cold wet fog,
Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's tent.

Through the black Tartar tents he pass'd, which stood
Clustering like bee-hives on the low flat strand
Of Oxus, where the summer-floods o'erflow
When the sun melts the snows in high Pamere
Through the black tents he pass'd, o'er that low strand,
And to a hillock came, a little back
From the stream's brink--the spot where first a boat,
Crossing the stream in summer, scrapes the land.
The men of former times had crown'd the top
With a clay fort; but that was fall'n, and now
The Tartars built there Peran-Wisa's tent,
A dome of laths, and o'er it felts were spread.
And Sohrab came there, and went in, and stood
Upon the thick piled carpets in the tent,
And found the old man sleeping on his bed
Of rugs and felts, and near him lay his arms.
And Peran-Wisa heard him, though the step
Was dull'd; for he slept light, an old man's sleep;
And he rose quickly on one arm, and said:--

"Who art thou? for it is not yet clear dawn.
Speak! is there news, or any night alarm?"

But Sohrab came to the bedside, and said:--
"Thou know'st me, Peran-Wisa! it is I.
The sun is not yet risen, and the foe
Sleep; but I sleep not; all night long I lie
Tossing and wakeful, and I come to thee.
For so did King Afrasiab bid me seek
Thy counsel, and to heed thee as thy son,
In Samarcand, before the army march'd;
And I will tell thee what my heart desires.
Thou know'st if, since from Ader-baijan first
I came among the Tartars and bore arms,
I have still served Afrasiab well, and shown,
At my boy's years, the courage of a man.
This too thou know'st, that while I still bear on
The conquering Tartar ensigns through the world,

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Paper

Hold the paper up to the light
(some rays pass right through)
Expose yourself out there for a minute
(some rays pass right through)
Take a little rest when the rays pass through
Take a little time off when the rays pass through
Go ahead and mis it up...go ahead and tie it up
In a long distance telephone call
Hold on to that paper
Hold on to that paper
Hold on becuase its been taken care of
Hold on to that paper
See if you can fit it on the paper
See if you can get it on the paper
See if you can fit it on the paper
See if you can get it on the paper
Had a love affair but it was only paper
(some rays they pass right through)
Had a lot of fun, could have been a lot better
(some rays they pass right through)
Take a little consideration, take every combination
Take a few weeks off, make it tighter, tighter
But it was never, it was never written down
Still might be a chance that it might work out (if you)
Hold on to that paper
Hold on to that paper
Hold on because itll be taken care of
Hold on to that paper
Dont think I can fit it on the paper
Dont think I can get it on the paper
Go ahead and rip up, rip up the paper
Go ahead and tear up, tear up the paper

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Homer

The Odyssey: Book 10

Thence we went on to the Aeoli island where lives Aeolus son of
Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods. It is an island that floats (as
it were) upon the sea, iron bound with a wall that girds it. Now,
Aeolus has six daughters and six lusty sons, so he made the sons marry
the daughters, and they all live with their dear father and mother,
feasting and enjoying every conceivable kind of luxury. All day long
the atmosphere of the house is loaded with the savour of roasting
meats till it groans again, yard and all; but by night they sleep on
their well-made bedsteads, each with his own wife between the
blankets. These were the people among whom we had now come.
"Aeolus entertained me for a whole month asking me questions all the
time about Troy, the Argive fleet, and the return of the Achaeans. I
told him exactly how everything had happened, and when I said I must
go, and asked him to further me on my way, he made no sort of
difficulty, but set about doing so at once. Moreover, he flayed me a
prime ox-hide to hold the ways of the roaring winds, which he shut
up in the hide as in a sack- for Jove had made him captain over the
winds, and he could stir or still each one of them according to his
own pleasure. He put the sack in the ship and bound the mouth so
tightly with a silver thread that not even a breath of a side-wind
could blow from any quarter. The West wind which was fair for us did
he alone let blow as it chose; but it all came to nothing, for we were
lost through our own folly.
"Nine days and nine nights did we sail, and on the tenth day our
native land showed on the horizon. We got so close in that we could
see the stubble fires burning, and I, being then dead beat, fell
into a light sleep, for I had never let the rudder out of my own
hands, that we might get home the faster. On this the men fell to
talking among themselves, and said I was bringing back gold and silver
in the sack that Aeolus had given me. 'Bless my heart,' would one turn
to his neighbour, saying, 'how this man gets honoured and makes
friends to whatever city or country he may go. See what fine prizes he
is taking home from Troy, while we, who have travelled just as far
as he has, come back with hands as empty as we set out with- and now
Aeolus has given him ever so much more. Quick- let us see what it
all is, and how much gold and silver there is in the sack he gave
him.'
"Thus they talked and evil counsels prevailed. They loosed the sack,
whereupon the wind flew howling forth and raised a storm that
carried us weeping out to sea and away from our own country. Then I
awoke, and knew not whether to throw myself into the sea or to live on
and make the best of it; but I bore it, covered myself up, and lay
down in the ship, while the men lamented bitterly as the fierce
winds bore our fleet back to the Aeolian island.
"When we reached it we went ashore to take in water, and dined
hard by the ships. Immediately after dinner I took a herald and one of
my men and went straight to the house of Aeolus, where I found him
feasting with his wife and family; so we sat down as suppliants on the
threshold. They were astounded when they saw us and said, 'Ulysses,
what brings you here? What god has been ill-treating you? We took

[...] Read more

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Coming Home

It's a long and lonely highway.
When you're traveling all alone.
I was on my way to nowhere.
But now i'm coming home.
I'm coming home.
I've been running through the fire.
I've been running for so long.
If i took it any higher.
Baby i would be still be gone.
But now i'm coming home, coming home.i'm coming home.
Coming home, coming home, i'm coming home.
Well my home was really never.
On a far and distant shore.
If i stayed away forever.
I could never miss you more.
And so i'm coming home,coming home.i'm coming home.
Coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
I think of all these years gone by.
Never even wondered why.
I never touched the ground.
All the time that's come and gone.
All the nights i've been alone.
And now i'm homeward bound.
I heard the thunder over canaan.
And i've heard the angels cry.
And their voices came revealing
"as you live,so will you die."
I'm coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
I'm coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
Coming home, coming home, i'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home, coming home, coming home...

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Seasonable Retour-Knell

SEASONABLE RETOUR KNELL
Variations on a theme...
SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS

Author notes

A mirrored Retourne may not only be read either from first line to last or from last to first as seen in the mirrors, but also by inverting the first and second phrase of each line, either rhyming AAAA or ABAB for each verse. thus the number of variations could be multiplied several times.- two variations on the theme have been included here but could have been extended as in SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS robi03_0069_robi03_0000

In respect of SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
This composition has sought to explore linguistic potential. Notes and the initial version are placed before rather than after the poem.
Six variations on a theme have been selected out of a significant number of mathematical possibilities using THE SAME TEXT and a reverse mirror for each version. Mirrors repeat the seasons with the lines in reverse order.

For the second roll the first four syllables of each line are reversed, and sense is retained both in the normal order of seasons and the reversed order as well... The 3rd and 4th variations offer ABAB rhyme schemes retaining the original text. The 5th and 6th variations modify the text into rhyming couplets.

Given the linguistical structure of this symphonic composition the score could be read in inversing each and every line and each and every hemistitch. There are minor punctuation differences between versions.

One could probably attain sonnet status for each of the four seasons and through partioning in 3 groups of 4 syllables extend the possibilites ad vitam.

Seasonable Round Robin Roll Reversals
robi03_0069_robi03_0000 QXX_DNZ
Seasonable Retour-Knell
robi03_0070_robi03_0069 QXX_NXX
26 March 1975 rewritten 20070123
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllll
For previous version see below
_______________________________________
SPRING SUMMER


Life is at ease Young lovers long
Land under plough; To hold their dear;
Whispering trees, Dewdrops among,
Answering cow. Bold, know no fear.

Blossom, the bees, Life full of song,
Burgeoning bough; Cloudless and clear;
Soft-scented breeze, Days fair and long,
Spring warms life now. Summer sends cheer.


AUTUMN WINTER


Each leaf decays, Harvested sheaves
Each life must bow; And honeyed hives;
Our salad days Trees stripped of leaves,
Are ending now. Jack Frost has knives.

Fruit heavy lays Time, Prince of thieves,
Bending the bough, - Onward he drives,

[...] Read more

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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

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