Dignify and glorify common labor. It is at the bottom of life that we must begin, not at the top.
quote by Booker T. Washington
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Bottom
Lift your head up from the clouds
I know that you're shaking
Breaking down
How could you leave me
Garbage can
Never want to be your understand
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me
Lord can you help me get this weight off my shoulders
Can you help me I think I'm getting older
The pain that you left me deep within
How can I live living in sin
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
Sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom
How many times I gotta say
That you're never ever gonna get your way
Down in the gutter as I decay
Where you gonna leave me
Let me be
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me understand
And you know that I've tried
Don't you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
[x2]
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me
[x2]
Sticks and stones breaking my bones
No your words aren't never gonna hurt me
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now i'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
[...] Read more
song performed by Puddle Of Mudd
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
From the Top to the Bottom
From the top to the bottom,
There were those who chose to stop...
Actions they believe were made,
By those who went against the grade.
No matter if that grade,
Had been all about 'shade'.
From the top to the bottom,
There were those who were just rotten.
With nothing on their minds,
But themselves all the time.
And believing they had power...
To stop tick tocking from a hanging clock.
From the top to the bottom,
There were gobblers who loved robbing...
Anything they thought had meaning,
And to smear it with their scheming.
With no scruples in their 'noggin'.
And sipping on mischief like it was eggnog.
From the top to the bottom,
There were crooks and there were snobs...
With their noses in the air!
But no empathy is shown to come,
From anywhere.
Now find their lives blocked,
And going no where.
From the top to the bottom,
They are slipping off roofs...
Into muddy ruts.
With no boots or shoes,
And on their butts out of luck...
Singing the blues!
From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!
From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!
From the top to the bottom,
Now the bottom's got 'em shocked!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Rocky Top
Wish that I was on ole rocky top,
Down in the tennessee hills.
Aint no smoggy smoke on rocky top,
Aint no telephone bills.
Once there was a girl on rocky top,
Half bear the other half cat.
Wild as a mink, sweet as soda pop,
I still dream about that.
Rocky top, youll always be
Home sweet home to me.
Good ole rocky top,
Rocky top tennessee, rocky top tennessee.
Once two strangers climbed on rocky top,
Lookin for a moonshine still.
Strangers aint come back from rocky top,
Guess they never will.
Corn wont grow at all on rocky top,
Dirts too rocky by far.
Thats why all the folks on rocky top
Get their corn from a jar.
Rocky top, youll always be
Home sweet home to me.
Good ole rocky top,
Rocky top tennessee, rocky top tennessee.
Now Ive had years of cramped up city life,
Trapped like a duck in a pen.
Now all I know is its a pity life
Cant be simple again.
Rocky top, youll always be
Home sweet home to me.
Good ole rocky top,
Rocky top tennessee, rocky top tennessee.
Rocky top tennessee, rocky top tennessee.
Yeah rocky top tennesee eee eee eee.
song performed by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Top Down Summer
(eric carmen/dean pitchford)
Wakin up
And the sun is in my eyes
Temperature is rising
Its so hot
Shake it up
I go racing through the streets
Howling in the heat
And you know why
Girls in cars are driving through the city
Breaking hearts, but looking awful pretty
Baby, not so fast
Make the summer last
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Take your mustang off the blocks
Aint nobody walks when its sooo hot
Me and you
We can ride to town in style
Flash em all a smile
And you know what
Im so high whenever were together
I wish we could feel this way forever
Love is weatherproof
Cmon raise the roof
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Are we close enough to touch
(baby, let me show you how)
Its too hot to wear too much
(its too late to turn back now)
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
[...] Read more
song performed by Eric Carmen
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Corporate Bottom Line
Shabbily they're seen and treated...
Workers jerked and losing perks.
Erased,
Are any raises in pay.
Everyday a job is outsourced,
To prevent a further loss.
And this is cost effective,
As a company directs!
Silk suits sit high to do their looting.
No matter who is booted,
To refine a bottom line.
And...
Silk suits sit high to do their looting.
No matter who is booted,
To refine a bottom line.
Uprooted to make beautiful,
A corporate bottom line.
Those recruited to dilute and choose...
A corporate bottom line.
Uprooted to make beautiful,
A corporate bottom line.
Those recruited to dilute and choose...
A corporate bottom line.
No excuses when it comes to boost,
A corporate bottom line.
Those recruited to dilute and choose...
A corporate bottom line.
Uprooted to make beautiful,
A corporate bottom line.
Those recruited to dilute and choose...
A corporate bottom line.
No excuses when it comes to boost,
A corporate bottom line.
Shabbily they're seen and treated...
Workers jerked and losing perks.
Erased,
Are any raises in pay.
No excuses when it comes to boost,
A corporate bottom line.
No excuses when it comes to boost,
A corporate bottom line.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Pick Yourself Up Off the Bottom
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Get back to a simpler time.
If not just in your mind...
When you found a reason and rhyme.
To unwind.
Get back to a purposeness.
When you had much more sense.
And your mind wasn't condensed...
To accepting false lies...
To fly like they do!
Hop-in-that-taxi...and get back to you.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Bishop Blougram's Apology
No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.
So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Some Get Erotic
Some get erotic,
When the bottom drops...
And they hit the rocks.
Like their heads had knocked against,
Acknowledged nonsense.
Some get erotic,
When the bottom drops...
And they hit the rocks.
Like they got up from a shock,
That all their bubbles popped!
And they found out...
They were isolated and locked.
And they found out...
Life is not about what they've got!
And they found out...
They were isolated and locked.
And they found out...
The bottom rushes to the top.
When you're dropping,
Isolated.
When your'e dropping,
And locked.
Some get erotic,
When the bottom drops...
And they hit the rocks.
Like they got up from a shock,
That all their bubbles popped!
And they found out...
They were isolated and locked.
And they found out...
The bottom rushes to the top.
When you're dropping,
Isolated.
When your'e dropping,
And locked.
When you're dropping,
Isolated.
When your'e dropping,
And locked.
Some get erotic,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Snakes And Ladders
Words by joni mitchell
Music by larry klein and joni mitchell
He
In a shopping mall
Finally met the perfect girl
She is all that matters
The only one in all the world
Like a barbie doll
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
She
Just to have and hold
Is the perfect air-brushed angel
Makes you hot just looking at her
Stapled into all his braincells
Like a centerfold
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
Buy the townhouse
Call the preacher
Get to the bottom climb back up
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
Set up credit for the lovely creature
The lovely creature
He
On a corporate climb
Set his sights on power for her
On a silver platter
He gave up happy hour for her
Perrier and lime
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
She
In a handsome world
Put her mind to social graces
All the privileged chatter
Setting pretty table places
For the girls in pearls
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
Buy the carphone--
Call the broker
Get to the bottom climb back up
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
[...] Read more
song performed by Joni Mitchell
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Snakes & Ladders
Words by joni mitchell
Music by larry klein and joni mitchell
He
In a shopping mall
Finally met the perfect girl
She is all that matters
The only one in all the world
Like a barbie doll
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
She
Just to have and hold
Is the perfect air-brushed angel
Makes you hot just looking at her
Stapled into all his braincells
Like a centerfold
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
Buy the townhouse
Call the preacher
Get to the bottom climb back up
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
Set up credit for the lovely creature
The lovely creature
He
On a corporate climb
Set his sights on power for her
On a silver platter
He gave up happy hour for her
Perrier and lime
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
She
In a handsome world
Put her mind to social graces
All the privileged chatter
Setting pretty table places
For the girls in pearls
Oh love is snakes and ladders
Snakes and ladders
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
Buy the carphone--
Call the broker
Get to the bottom climb back up
Get to the top and slide back down
Get to the bottom climb back up
[...] Read more
song performed by Joni Mitchell
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Three Women
My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.
Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.
Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.
Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.
1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.
Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,
[...] Read more
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXV: Common Thing
It’s not a kindness of heart
It’s not strong solidarity
It’s just a common thing
It’s not local wisdom
It’s not old tradition
It’s just a common thing
It’s not call of duty
It’s not sense of right
It’s just a common thing
It’s not formal greeting
It’s not automatic response
It’s just a common thing
It’s not a matter of guessing
It’s not a part of instinct
It’s just a common thing
It’s not natural reaction
It’s not act of compassion
It’s just a common thing
It’s not regular news
It’s not lack of awareness
It’s just a common thing
It’s not general knowledge
It’s not piece of memory
It’s just a common thing
It’s not statistic range
It’s not operational standard
It’s just a common thing
It’s not moral excuses
It’s not people ignorance
It’s just a common thing
It’s not public secret
It’s not rhetoric question
It’s just a common thing
It’s not different mindset
It’s not basic solution
It’s just a common thing
It’s not absolute law
It’s not blind obedience
[...] Read more
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Lay Of The Bell
Fast, in its prison-walls of earth,
Awaits the mould of baked clay.
Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth
The bell that shall be born to-day!
Who would honor obtain,
With the sweat and the pain,
The praise that man gives to the master must buy.--
But the blessing withal must descend from on high!
And well an earnest word beseems
The work the earnest hand prepares;
Its load more light the labor deems,
When sweet discourse the labor shares.
So let us ponder--nor in vain--
What strength can work when labor wills;
For who would not the fool disdain
Who ne'er designs what he fulfils?
And well it stamps our human race,
And hence the gift to understand,
That man within the heart should trace
Whate'er he fashions with the hand.
From the fir the fagot take,
Keep it, heap it hard and dry,
That the gathered flame may break
Through the furnace, wroth and high.
When the copper within
Seeths and simmers--the tin,
Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the bell
May flow in the right course glib and well.
Deep hid within this nether cell,
What force with fire is moulding thus,
In yonder airy tower shall dwell,
And witness wide and far of us!
It shall, in later days, unfailing,
Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion;
Its solemn voice with sorrow wailing,
Or choral chiming to devotion.
Whatever fate to man may bring,
Whatever weal or woe befall,
That metal tongue shall backward ring,
The warning moral drawn from all.
See the silvery bubbles spring!
Good! the mass is melting now!
Let the salts we duly bring
Purge the flood, and speed the flow.
From the dross and the scum,
Pure, the fusion must come;
[...] Read more
poem by Friedrich Schiller
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Resurrection Mary
(ian hunter)
(studio version)
(transcribed by justin purington)
In 1935 I was living in paradise, I had a friend up in cicero.
We used to go out to the track, wed knock a few whiskeys back.
Id lose my shirt and then I would lose my way home
I was driving my stutz black hawk through justice in the dark,
When suddenly the blood froze in my veins.
She was standing by the road in an incandescent glow,
My heart stood still, my foot slammed on the brakes.
She said please, please would you dignify my wish?
Im trying to get to heaven, could you tell me where that is?
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white,
I caught my first sign of resurrection mary.
I was trembling like a leaf, I was scared beyond belief,
After all my conscience aint that clear.
I used to work for mickey finn, I did the numbers for big jim
Perhaps my day of reckoning lies here?
I said please, please, I would dignify your wish.
But when it comes to heaven, Im just a little bit amateurish.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
I cheated time with resurrection mary.
And I felt tears form in my eyes,
For the first time I felt something deep inside,
And the first time I saw angels high in the air,
For the first time in my life,
And I said mary, go to the light, its gonna be alright.
I got down on my knees, I said sweet mary, please,
Dignify these wishes before you run.
Will you tell him Ive reformed, will you tell him Im reborn?
She closed her eyes and then she spoke in tongues
I said please, please, tell me what he said.
She said you must die
The day before the devil knows youre dead.
On a wild chicago night, with a wind howling white
I waved goodbye.
On a wild chicago night, oh with a wind howling white
I lost sight
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
Of resurrection mary
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
With the naked eye
There are a number of differences to the lyrics in the live version as performed at the mick ronson memorial concert at londons hammersmith apollo, 29th april 1994.
(live version, transcribed by wim woittiez)
In 1935 I was living in paradise, I had a friend up in cicero.
We used to go out to the track and knock a few whiskeys back.
[...] Read more
song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Down In The Bottom
In case youre wondering its alive and well
That little habit that you left with me
Here in the suburbs where its hard to tell
If I got the bear or if the bear got me
How did you know that it would take me down
Down to the bottom of the wine dark sea
Where you were waiting there to bring me round
Where you knew all the dopest cuts to be
Drowned at the bottom of your mystery
Down in the bottom of the wine dark sea
Saw your old lady in the park today
The legendary smile is wearing thin
Behind that guessing game you make her play
Now that she knows that she could never win
I guess youre never gonna take her down
Down to the bottom of your little black heart
Lay with her naked on the cool hard ground
To watch the sun rise in the dopest part
Down in the bottom where your lifeline shows
Down in the bottom where nobody goes
Did you loose your way find another
Did you make your play or just run for cover
Is its safe to say you got burned today?
I like the feathers and I love the hat
I like that little gypsy tune youre humming
I guess Im happy now weve had this chat
Oh yeah Im really glad I saw you coming
There in the corner of the eastern sky
The tortured angel of your rising sign
Darkens the evening with his one good eye
An evil omen of the dopest kind
Down in the bottom where your demons fly
Down in the bottom of the eastern sky
Down in the bottom where your lifeline shows
Down in the bottom where nobody goes
Drowned at the bottom of your mystery
Down in the bottom of the wine dark sea
song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Those Kept On The Bottom Relate
Those kept on the bottom keep keeping on.
Those kept on the bottom keep keeping on.
Those kept on the bottom keep keeping on.
Those kept on the bottom,
Relate.
Keeping patience for them,
Has a message to send.
'Cause,
People feel more pinned in.
'Cause,
Struggles for them don't end.
'Cause,
Promises don't pay the rent.
Or decisions not to eat,
Because they wish to look thin.
Those kept on the bottom relate.
Those kept on the bottom relate.
Those kept on the bottom relate.
Those kept on the bottom,
Relate.
Those kept on the bottom keep keeping on.
Those kept on the bottom keep keeping on.
Those kept on the bottom keep keeping on.
Those kept on the bottom,
Relate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11
SCARCE had the rosy Morning rais’d her head
Above the waves, and left her wat’ry bed;
The pious chief, whom double cares attend
For his unburied soldiers and his friend,
Yet first to Heav’n perform’d a victor’s vows: 5
He bar’d an ancient oak of all her boughs;
Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac’d,
Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac’d.
The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn,
Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 10
Was hung on high, and glitter’d from afar,
A trophy sacred to the God of War.
Above his arms, fix’d on the leafless wood,
Appear’d his plumy crest, besmear’d with blood:
His brazen buckler on the left was seen; 15
Truncheons of shiver’d lances hung between;
And on the right was placed his corslet, bor’d;
And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: 20
“Our toils, my friends, are crown’d with sure success;
The greater part perform’d, achieve the less.
Now follow cheerful to the trembling town;
Press but an entrance, and presume it won.
Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, 25
As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice.
Turnus shall fall extended on the plain,
And, in this omen, is already slain.
Prepar’d in arms, pursue your happy chance;
That none unwarn’d may plead his ignorance, 30
And I, at Heav’n’s appointed hour, may find
Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind.
Meantime the rites and fun’ral pomps prepare,
Due to your dead companions of the war:
The last respect the living can bestow, 35
To shield their shadows from contempt below.
That conquer’d earth be theirs, for which they fought,
And which for us with their own blood they bought;
But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
To the sad city of Evander send, 40
Who, not inglorious, in his age’s bloom,
Was hurried hence by too severe a doom.”
Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way,
Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay.
Acoetes watch’d the corpse; whose youth deserv’d 45
The father’s trust; and now the son he serv’d
With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
Th’ attendants of the slain his sorrow share.
A troop of Trojans mix’d with these appear,
And mourning matrons with dishevel’d hair. 50
[...] Read more
poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!