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The more I read, to me the more incredible everything is. Based on what I've read, there are all these other dimensional planes and spaces, mathematically proven.

quote by Dwight Schultz
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Minds of Those Like These

The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And on borrowed time,
They proceed to show themselves...
Out of their minds with a choice to grieve.

Incredible.
Incredible...
Wh at people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.

Self seekers enforcing to impose their will,
For the purpose to fulfill...
The prophesy of their demise.
So unwise are they who do not pay attention.
So unwise are they who do not listen!
As they forge ahead,
In disbelief of what has been 'envisioned'.
Or comprehend words to them said.
As they forge ahead,
Strickened by positions...
That restrict their minds to limited conditions.

Incredible.
Incredible...What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.

The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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These Wooden Ideas

Its a better way to feel
Dont be real, be post modern
(Its not that one dimensional, its not the only thought)
Its a better way to feel
When youre not real, youre post modern
(Its not that one dimensional, its not the only thought)
I stopped and waited for progress
I stopped and waited for progress
I stopped and waited
But Im not willing to accept it all
This wooden idea is your method of repetition
This wooden idea is how you sell reduction x 2
Its the best way to feel
Dont be real, its post modern
(Its not that one dimensional, its not the only thought)
Its a better way to feel
When youre not real, youre post modern
(Its not that one dimensional, its not the only thought)
You cant keep waiting for progress
You cant keep waiting for progress
You cant keep waiting
And Im not willing to accept it all
This wooden idea is your method of repetition
This wooden idea is how you sell reduction
I bet you dont know how to spell contradiction
I bet you dont know how to sell conviction
I bet you dont know how to spell contradiction
I bet you dont know how to sell conviction
This wooden idea is your method of repetition
This wooden idea is how you sell reduction

song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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Two-dimensional dream

If you called me 'two-dimensional', I guess
I'd go away and think about it - is he
insulting me and if so, how?

Though in a sense, all of us here in cyberspace
are two dimensional, to each other?

There's one time, though, when two dimensions
would be a blessing: like today,
when the cutely photographed brochure
for IKEA, the flat-pack furniture giant,
thudded through the letterbox
with its cosy nordic world as fresh and clean and scented
as a newly-built sauna just fired up;

then the two-dimensional me
could simply slip like a well-trained bookmark
between page 24 - 'a welcoming family room'
and page 25 - 'a bathroom to relax in'
with a pine-scented sigh of relief
that I wouldn't have to drive ten miles,
queue out of sight of the parking-lot just to get in,
then after checking what was out of stock,
go home and try to put the bloody thing together
despite the missing bolt.

You'll find me there on page 25,
under the artfully arranged bubbles, relaxing
in my carefree, blond and nordic way,
smiling the smug smile
of the sterile two-dimensional.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Your Love Is Incredible

Uh
Oooh
Oh baby baby yeah
Baby baby
Listen

Girl I peeped you on the corner
So I rolled up on ya late one Saturday
You was peelin a banana
I was lookin at ya
Thinkin she freaky

(That night)
That night I gotta getcha
Gotcha Gucci underwear in my back pocket
Mmm and I can't get you outta my mind
Girl I can't get enough of it
Because

[CHORUS]
Your love is incredible
You can say it's unforgettable
Can't believe it's merely sexual
Cuz your love is incredible incredible
Said your love is incredible
You can say it's unforgettable
Can we make it more than sexual
Cuz your love is incredible incredible

I'm thinkin about the things that you did to me
I'magine your body movin like a centipede
I want ya to know that I'm ready to be
All over your body
(Baby you got all I need)

I like the way you got the softest lips
(Alright)
Infatuated by the way you kiss me
Oh girl I'm tellin you wit you is where I wanna be
You know you drive me crazy
Cuz

[CHORUS]

Break it down
Break it down
Ooooh
Baby
Oooh
Yeah

[...] Read more

song performed by Sisqo from Unleash The Dragon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Speech Behind Speech

Speech behind speech
That teaches itself under the touch and sight
In the night-bound city
Uncovers spaces where no spaces were before
Language of light
Uncovers spaces where no spaces were
Between the image of it and your face
Language of silence
Surface and see and touch
My name was left [?, maybe "expected"]
Speech behind speech
That teaches itself under the touch and sight
In the night-bound city
Language of light
Uncovers spaces where no spaces were
Between the image of it and your face
Language of silence
Surface and see and touch
My name was left [?, maybe "expected

song performed by Sting
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Say You...Love Me

You say you...
Love me!

But you get up and you run.
But you get up and you run.

How can I tell...
When you get up and you run.
When you get up and you run.

You say you want me.

But...
There is nothing proven done.
There is nothing proven done.

And I know too well...
A love that's meant to be for me,
Doesn't run away...
Escaping,
To Be Chased.

A love that's meant to be for me...
Doesn't run away,
To be chased!
And not by me.
No.

When you get up and you run.
Go!
There is nothing proven done.
No!

A love that's meant to be for me...
Doesn't run away to be chased!
And not by me.
No.

When you get up and you run.
Go!
There is nothing proven done.
No!

You say you...
Love me!
But how can I tell...
When you get up and you run.

When you get up and you run.
Go!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Trains And Boats And Planes

Trains and boats and planes are passing by
They mean a trip to Paris or Rome
To someone else but not for me
The trains and boats and planes
Took you away, away from me
We were so in love, and high above
We had a star to wish upon. Wish
And dreams come true, but not for me
The trains and boats and planes
Took you away, away from me
You are from another part of the world
You had to go back a while and then
You said you soon would return again
I'm waiting here like I promised to
I'm waiting here but where are you?
Trains and boats and planes took you a way
But every time I see them I pray
And if my prayers can cross the sea
The trains and the boats and planes

song performed by Fountains Of Wayne
Added by Lucian Velea
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The White Rose of Stalingrad

Her nickname was Lilya.
In the Great Patriotic War
When Hitler’s armies invaded the Soviet Union
She became a Soviet air ace,
Known as the “White Rose of Stalingrad”.

Lydia Litvak was born
Into a Moscow Jewish family.
In 1935, at the age of 14, she joined a flight club
And a year later she had her first solo flight.
When the Germans attacked Russia,
Lilya joined the Soviet Air Force.

In the summer of 1942 she was assigned
To the 437th Combat Regiment
Fighting over the skies of Stalingrad.
At first the men were reluctant
To take her seriously
But soon it became evident
That she was an excellent pilot.

Lilya was a pensive and beautiful young woman
Who got into trouble because of deviating from
The prescribed dress code of the Soviet Air Force.
Once she cut off the fur lined trim of her boots,
Producing from it a fur collar for her flight suit.
She was jailed for the offense.

Nevertheless, her desire for expressing
Her feminine individuality was irrepressible
And she continued to design
Her own military outfit.
Among other things she bleached her hair.
Military regulations permitted this.

And then she took pieces of parachute silk,
Sewed them together,
Painted them in different colors
And wrapping them around her neck
She created her own air combat fashion.

Lilya flew a Yak-1 fighter plane,
Which she embellished in painting white roses
On its sides. She made her first kills
Of enemy planes on September 13,1942,
Shooting down two Luftwaffe aircrafts,
A Ju-88 and a Bf 109 G-2.

The German flyer of the downed Bf 109
Was Erwin Maier, a decorated combat pilot.

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Hartal
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Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Incredible

How do You do
The things that You say
And do?
And keep so close
Yet You don't appear to me?

My faith in You
Is true and I don't deny
You fill my heart
With joy
That I do not hide!

Incredible!
This power that is great!
So great it can't be ended.
Incredible!
This feeling that creates...
My needs to keep defending You!

How do
You do
The things
You say that come true?
And keep
So close
Yet You...
Can be everywhere?
My faith
In You
Shines through
And I don't deny
You fill
My heart
With joy
I will never hide!

Incredible!
This power that is great.
So great it can't be ended.
Incredible!
This feeling satiates...
My need to keep defending You!

Incredible to me is You!
How do you keep this like You do?
Always fresh and always new!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Read My Lips

Words and music: doug johnson, mike reno, neil shilkin
Here you come again, lookin for another thrill
With your lipstick, high heel shoes, lookin like youre
Dressed to kill
Tattoo stuck on you, branded by a chosen few
What short memory, now its time to pay your dues
Dont you hear a word I say?
Just turn your head and look this way
And read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my lips, Im tellin you, Im through with you
I know where you go when you need to get some
Bad little actress on a mattress, its seduction
Anything for you
You dont hear a word I say
So turn your head and look this way
And, read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, youre history
Ive been watching what you do
And it doesnt take a fool
To see what weve been through
Oh, gonna turn the page on you
(guitar solo)
You dont hear a word I say
So turn your head and look this way
And read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my tips, oh, Im through with you
Read my tips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, youre history
Oh yeah, read my lips
I said, read my lips
Read my lips
Just read my lips

song performed by Loverboy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Steal The Thunder

Here you come again, lookin' for another thrill
With your lipstick, high heel shoes, lookin' like you're dressed to kill
Tattoo stuck on you, branded by a chosen few
What short memory, now it's time to pay your dues
Don't you hear a word I say? Just turn your head and look this way
And read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, I'm tellin' you, I'm through with you
I know where you go when you need to get some
Bad little actress on a mattress, it's seduction, anything for you
You don't you hear a word I say, so turn your head and look this way
And read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, you're history
I've been watching what you do, and it doesn't take a fool
To see what we've been through, oh, gonna turn the page on you
(Solo)
You don't you hear a word I say, so turn your head and look this way
And read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, oh, I'm through with you
Read my lips, oh, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, you're history
Oh yeah, read my lips, I said, read my lips, read my lips
Just read my lips
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

song performed by Loverboy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Minimalist Death Cyphers, A Meditation In Nine Rounds

.
for Mooky,
not even two hearts
could contain your
great spirit

1

Blue cornflowers

lean forward

Reach again

One hand

What cannot be seen

in spaces between

matters

Sky has no memory

2

Lean forward

One hand

in spaces between

Sky has no memory

3

Reach again

[...] Read more

poem by Warren Falcon
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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

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Karate Girl

I am the karate girl in town and,
I am seeking for your love;
For it is just a great joy to meet you and to know you.

I have been sleeping for four hundred years but now,
I am awake and to love you;
I am like the flying insects that walk on all fours,
And like two turtlrdoves and two young pigeons;
So stand straight on the doorway of love and,
Let me warm you up with my karate-movements.

I have a skin of milk to let you sleep all day,
And like the bull and the goat;
With the two-dimensional arrays of love to share,
For my act is all that you need tonight.

The source of my flow,
The nakedness of your law had exposed us!
And from the three-dimensional arrays of love,
But we are now like the sheep and the cow.

Twelve loaves of bread from the source of my milk,
And of the four-dimensional arrays of peace;
I asked for your name and you gave me your nakedness,
Because the highways were deserted as we walked along.

They've taken the spoil and the plunder,
We've taken our love and out emotions,
And like the sword without and the terror within!
But i am still the karate girl on the mission of love.

I am here to love you and,
I am filled with the spirit of wisdom to teach you;
For my trade is full of energy and of the movements,
But you will surely catch up to me on this love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Magic And Loss - The Summation

Love is here, here to stay, love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day, love is here, here to stay
They both love Chinese food, he hates to dress
He loves to play pinball, she wants to play next
She likes her novels long, he's into comic books
They're gilt-edged polymorphous urban but somehow it works
Love is here, here to stay, love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day, love is here, here to stay
She likes Truman Capote, he likes Gore Vidal
He likes Edgar Allan Poe, she's into Mean Joe Greene
She thinks eating meat's disgusting, he likes hot dogs
She's into Gestalt therapy, while est and the vest just make him ill
but love is here to stay
Love is here, here to stay, love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day, love is here, here to stay
Love is here, here to stay, love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day, love is here, here to stay

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love Is Here To Stay

Love is here, here to stay
Love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day
Love is here, here to stay
They both love chinese food, he hates to dress
He loves to play pinball, she wants to play next
She likes her novels long, hes into comic books
Theyre gilt-edged polymorphous urban but somehow it works
cause love is here, here to stay
Love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day
Love is here, here to stay
She likes truman capote, he likes gore vidal
He likes edgar allan poe, shes into mean joe greene
She thinks eating meats disgusting, he likes hot dogs
Shes into gestalt therapy
While est and the vest just make him ill
But love is here to stay
Love is here, here to stay
Love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day
Love is here, here to stay
Love is here, here to stay
Love is here, here to stay
It gets proven every day
Love is here, here to stay

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Question

1916

Brethren, how shall it fare with me
When the war is laid aside,
If it be proven that I am he
For whom a world has died?

If it be proven that all my good,
And the greater good I will make,
Were purchased me by a multitude
Who suffered for my sake?

That I was delivered by mere mankind
Vowed to one sacrifice,
And not, as I hold them, battle-blind,
But dying with open eyes?

That they did not ask me to draw the sword
When they stood to endure their lot --
That they only looked to me for a word,
And I answered I knew them not?

If it be found, when the battle clears,
Their death has set me free,
Then how shall I live with myself through the years
Which they have bought for me?

Brethren, how must it fare with me,
Or how am I justified,
If it be proven that I am he
For whom mankind has died --
If it be proven that I am he
Who, being questioned, denied?

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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