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Postal service of today is far removed from that of 30 years ago when reform was last enacted.

quote by John M. McHugh
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Room Service

Im feelin low, no place to go
And Im a-thinking that Im gonna scream
Because a hotel all alone is not a
Rock and roll stars dream
But just when Im about to shut the light and go to bed
A lady calls and asks if Im too tired or if Im just to dead for
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no
My planes delayed and Im afraid
Theyre gonna keep me waiting here till nine
Then a stewardess in a tight blue dress says
I got the time
But just as Im about to take my coat and get my fly
She says oh please, shes on her knees
And one more time before I leave I get some
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no, no
In my home town, Im hangin round
With all the ladies treatin me real good
A sweet sixteen lookin hot and mean says
I wish you would
But just as Im about to tell her yes, I think I can
I see her dad, hes getting mad
All the time he knows that Im in need of
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no, I cant say no
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, you take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no
Room service, well maybe baby, room service

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lip Service

Lip service
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley
1981
For anyone who loves creole cookin and new orleans music
Talk-a, talk-a, talk until your jaws turn blue
But you never really tell me what youre gonna do
Seem to keep it all locked up inside
I cant help but start to thinkin
Youve got somethin to hide
Why the pain
Whats your game
Youre drivin this boy insane
Oooh what a voodoo, nobody can do like you do
Your bitchin and your cryin finally got to me
So I thought Id take you baby on a shoppin spree
You bought a space age watch and an antique hat
Hell now its digital this and digital that
What a pain
Silly games
Still drivin your man insane
Oooh what a voodoo, nobody can do like you do
Chorus:
Oh darlin oh darlin
All I ever get is lip service from you
Oh darlin oh darlin, Im through
cause all I ever get is lip service from you
(instrumental)
So listen to me baby
You got to change your ways
Or Im off to pascagoula in a few more days
Ill leave you and your poodle and all the mess he makes
Find some other fool to man your shovel and your rake
No more pain
End of game
Youre drivin yourself insane
Ooh what a voodoo, nobody can do like you do
Chorus:
Oh darlin oh darlin
All I ever get is lip service from you
Oh darlin oh darlin, Im through
cause all I ever get is lip service from you
Lip service from you (lip service)
Lip service from you-hoo
Lip service from you (lip service)
Lip service from you-hoo
Lip service from you (lip service)
Lip service from you-hoo
- notes:
Lead guitar: josh leo

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Affirmations(2002-2004)

Today, I will get up before my alarm
Today, I won't close my eyes until dusk
Today, I will not get a speeding ticket
Today, I will count this day as a first
Today, I will enjoy the life that has been left to me
Today, I won't frown over the may-have-beens
Today, I won't cry over the should-have-beens
Today, I won't wonder about the could-have-beens

Today, I'll smile.......Today, I'll Laugh.... Today, I'll relax

Today, I won't feel alone because I don't see you
Today, I'll find something new that wasn't true of you
Today, I won't be afraid to look upon a new face
Today, I'll step up and take my place
Today, I won't think about what I've lost
Today, I'll look forward instead of behind
Today, I'll find some piece of mind

Today, I'll hope.... Today, I'll pray... Today, I'll believe

Today, I'll dream as if I always did
Today, I'll wish on a star the way I used to
Today, I'll reach for the heavens and sigh
Today, My heart will start to heal
Today, the biggest miracle is ME.
Today, Yesterday's problems ceased to be
Today, the rain has stopped and the sun has returned
Today, the breath of kindness is found in words

Today, I wonder.... Today, I am a child.

poem by Lillian B. Rose
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Sonnet: Postal Stamp History

Sonnet: Postal Stamp History

The postal stamp started in England (1840)
And was destined to spread around the world.
It would soon reach as far as Brazil,
As the momentum continued to swirl.
It reached the United States of America
In the year of eighteen-forty five.
And a winner throughout the centuries
The postal stamp is very much alive.

The price of the first stamp was one cent.
But today, it would cost forty-four
And with so many rate hikes in between,
I am very sure that there will be more.
And as long as there is mail to send,
The postal stamp will never come to end.

poem by Walterrean Salley
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Today! !

Today the sun was shine less
Today the moon was mood less
Today the birds were wing less
Today as the sun rose, they told me
Today as I woke
They told me
Last night I’ve lost my voice they echoed me

Today the mountains are height less
Today the clock was time less
Today the sky was wind less
Today my hands were workless
Today as the sun boiled, they told me
Today as I spoiled
They told me
Last morning I’ve lost my hands they assured me

Today the world was sightless
Today the room was lightless
Today the voices were figureless
Today my eyes were imageless
Today as the night dived, they told me
Today as I defined
They told me
Last afternoon I’ve lost my eyes they cursed me

Today the era was soundless
Today the room was noise less
Today the things were strike less
Today my ears were voice less
Today as the dawn fell, they told me
Today as I felt
They told me
Last evening I’ve lost my ears they pitted me

Last night I was voiceless
Last night I was hand less
Last night I was eyes less
Last night I was ears less
And now today I feel
That they’ll tell me
That I’ve lost, they’ll yell me
Lost a heartbeat
And now is grave less
Left in open far godless
Unmentioned they say expressionless.

poem by Nishtha Dutta
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Your Horoscope For Today

aquarius
There's travel in your future when your tongue freezes to the back of a
Speeding bus
Fill that void in your pathetic life by playing whack-a-mole seventeen hours a
Day
Pisces
Try to avoid any virgos or leos with the ebola virus
You are the tru lord of the dance, no matter what those idiots at work say
Aries
The look on your face will be priceless when you find that forty pound
Watermelon in your colon
Trade toothbrushes with an albino dwarf, then give a hickey to meryl streep
Taurus
You will never find tru happiness - what you gonna do, cry about it?
The stars predict tomorrow you'll wake up, do a bunch of stuff, and then go
Back to sleep
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
Gemini
Your birthday party will be ruined once again by your explosive flatulence
Your love life will run into trouble when your fiance hurls a javelin through
Your chest
Cancer
The position of jupiter says you should spend the rest of the week face down in
The mud
Try not to shove a roll of duct tape up your nose while taking your driver's
Test
Leo
Now is not a good time to photocopy your butt and staple it to your boss's
Face, oh no
Eat a bucket of tuna-flavored pudding, then wash it down with a gallon of
Strawberry quik
Virgo
All virgos are extremely friendly and intelligent - except for you
Expect a big surprise today when you wind up with your head impaled on a stick
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
Now you may find it inconceivable or at the very least a bit unlikely that the
Relative position of the planets and the stars could have a special deep
Significance or meaning that exclusively applies to only you, but let me give
You my assurance that these forcasts and predictions are all based on solid,
Scientific, documented evidence, so you would have to be some kind of moron not
To reaize that every single one of the is absolutely true.
Where was i?
Libra
A big promotion is just around the corner for someone much more talented that

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Feud’s Fruit

Seeds of hatred are grown in fertile soil.

Seeds planting sowing hatred are
ethnically religiously politically
grown in fever festering fertile soil.

Stand against mine
I’ll burn thee.
If I can break spine.
I’ll take thine.

Down cinder sown strewn path.
Burn down ash acid rains.
Corpse covering thrown quick lime

coat ribs struck reef beef
broken battered bones.
Upon rent spent uprooted life.

Wasting mortal potential plundered.
Fruitful future essence erased.
Better to turn anger never unleashed
an unstruck cheek...

Isolationist policies unsullied safeguard
wash supposed lily white white-house hands.
Escalate erroneous pacifist indifferent.

Condemnation contagious
concentration camps
seal abnegated intervention undertaken.
Justice is never retaliatory.

Blind animosity swordsmanship.

State organized well organized
vicious killing machines flavour savour.
Maniac midsummer’s nightmare.

With staunch sweet sickly sway
stomach spewing smell. Putrid tortured
decaying, broken body parted parts.

Recurrent shameful mosaic; imitates millenniums of slaughter
continues to plague; scattered provinces peoples
countries ideologies demon; spurned across time unabated.

Emotions are animated feelings; experienced victim first hand
horror is state institutionalized; barbaric bred blood letting.
Each fermented act premeditated; calculated brutally enacted

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II

THE ARGUMENT

The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.

THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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I Wished Upon My Life Today

I wished upon my life today
I wean upon my life today
I bet upon my life today
I borrowed upon my life today
I feasted upon my life today
I fell upon my life today
I paid upon my life today
I plead upon my life today
I frowned upon my life today
I flew upon my life today
I smoked upon my life today
I shitted upon my life today
I pissed upon my life today
I pass upon my life today
I sneezed upon my life today
I sneaked upon my life today
I asked upon my life today
I ate upon my life today
I wept upon my life today
I won upon my life today.
I prayed upon my life today.

poem by David E. Patton
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Today (Earth Song)

Please oh please
where blue ain't green
so flowers can bloom and birds can sing
today
Hang out with your friends
cool breezing sun
and I'ma join y'all so we can all have fun
today
and blow me a kiss
and dry my clothes
while I run through the sheets like I'm 5 years old
today
You got the natural wood grain with the big ol' 'fro
your fresh 15's got me ridin' low
today
smile today
smile today
smile today
smile
today
See you got this new man
who treats you wrong
but I'ma do you good before your youth's been gone
today
and if you feelin' kinda grey
I understand
emotions sway but I'm still your friend
today
You got bugs in your house
that you let run free
but if they don't bug you then they don't bug me
today
See, I respect you and you respect me back
so I'ma make sure I put my trash in the sack
today
smile today
smile today..
(feel good today)
In origin brown you look so young
so let's spend the night 'n tell purple to come
today
and I'ma sing you a song so play that track
with the creekers in the back that so abstract
today
and as I take a deep breath
I close my eyes
I say a little prayer for the sun to rise
today
(tomorrow)
and I see in the morning all bright and fresh

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song performed by Erykah Badu
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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8-ball

Underworld---8 ball
Today
Today
I saw a man
Today
I saw a man
Using an empty whiskey flask as a walkie talkie
Today
Today
I saw a man
Today
I saw a man
With a flaming eight ball tattood on his arm
Today
Today
Today
I saw a man
Today
I saw a man
Using an empty whiskey flask as a walkie talkie
Today
I met a man who threw his arms around me
And Ive given
And Ive given
Today
Today
Today
Today
Today
Today
We laughed
We laughed
Waiting for a train
For a few
Into the city
Seconds
Today
That white stuff
That white stuff
Waiting for the train
That stuff
Into the city
Thats what makes me feel
Today
Feel
Feel
Today
Feel happy

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ancient Banner

In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
A servant's form, though he had reigned a king,
In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,
Or the creating words, 'Let there be light'
In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,
His Deity and his Omnipotence,
Were manifest in miracles. Disease
Fled at his bidding, and the buried dead
Rose from the sepulchre, reanimate,
At his command, or, on the passing bier
Sat upright, when he touched it. But he came,
Not for this only, but to introduce
A glorious dispensation, in the place
Of types and shadows of the Jewish code.
Upon the mount, and round Jerusalem,
He taught a purer, and a holier law,—
His everlasting Gospel, which is yet
To fill the earth with gladness; for all climes
Shall feel its influence, and shall own its power.
He came to suffer, as a sacrifice
Acceptable to God. The sins of all
Were laid upon Him, when in agony
He bowed upon the cross. The temple's veil
Was rent asunder, and the mighty rocks,
Trembled, as the incarnate Deity,
By his atoning blood, opened that door,
Through which the soul, can have communion with
Its great Creator; and when purified,
From all defilements, find acceptance too,
Where it can finally partake of all
The joys of His salvation.
But the pure Church he planted,—the pure Church
Which his apostles watered,—and for which,
The blood of countless martyrs freely flowed,
In Roman Amphitheatres,—on racks,—
And in the dungeon's gloom,—this blessed Church,
Which grew in suffering, when it overspread
Surrounding nations, lost its purity.
Its truth was hidden, and its light obscured
By gross corruption, and idolatry.
As things of worship, it had images,
And even painted canvas was adored.
It had a head and bishop, but this head
Was not the Saviour, but the Pope of Rome.
Religion was a traffic. Men defiled,
Professed to pardon sin, and even sell,
The joys of heaven for money,—and to raise
Souls out of darkness to eternal light,
For paltry silver lavished upon them.

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poem by Anonymous Americas
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

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poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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