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People don't vote for vice president, they vote for president.

quote by Susan Estrich
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Can Create A Modern International Community

And I wonder when Congress will allow public nationwide schools...
in the United States to set aside time for children again to pray?
To pray for, or quietly reflect on behalf of, their once great Nation!

To pray for their nation during this proclaimed danger time...
of struggle against the forces of evil dark international terrorism!
But in the White House lurks a dark soul of 100% fetus murder!

Barack against murder international terrorism with Pro-Abortion Record!
Like Pharaoh in the time of the birth of Moses, like King Harold at the birth of Jesus, killing innocent children based on state law is ok in America today!

Why? How can this be? On 9th of March 2008 Barack proclaimed “We were once were, we are no longer a Christian nation, at least not just....”
No Ten Commandments, No God’s law displayed in government buildings!

15th April 2009 Barack proclaimed “We can create a modern international community that is respectful that is secure that is prosperous....
(in an aside to himself) and like Baal Worshippers we will support propagate

State Policies funding killing innocent children against the will of the majority of Americans and I Barack will use tax payer dollars to kill innocent unborn! We will fill White House high office with Pro Abortion all! Yes We Can!

Darth Vader will create a universal New World Order!

And in the on going baby killing sweepstakes infant killer Obama selects: -

Pro-Abortion Sen. Joe Biden as Obama’s vice-presidential running mate. Pro-Abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as Obama’s White House Chief of Staff.
Pro-Abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as Obama’s Health and Human Services Secretary.

Former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of Obama’s Department of Justice Review Team. Next appointed Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel.

Betta check Obama’s rap sheet Pro-Abortion Record, for the rest of his all star elite baby killing machine selections.

'President Barack Obama's Pro-Abortion Record: A Pro-Life Compilation

Washington, DC (LifeNews.com) - The following is a compilation of bill signings, speeches, appointments and other actions that President Barack Obama has engaged in that have promoted abortion before and during his presidency. While Obama has promised to reduce abortions and some of his supporters believe that will happen, this long list proves his only agenda is promoting more abortions.

During the presidential election, Obama selected pro-abortion Sen. Joe Biden as his vice-presidential running mate.

Post-Election / Pre-Inauguration
November 5,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as his White House Chief of Staff. Emanuel has a 0% pro-life voting record according to National Right to Life.

November 19,2008 - Obama picks pro-abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as his Health and Human Services Secretary. Daschle has a long pro-abortion voting record according to National Right to Life.

November 20,2008 - Obama chooses former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of his Department of Justice Review Team. Later, he finalizes her appointment as the Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel in the Obama administration.

November 24,2008 - Obama appoints Ellen Moran, the former director of the pro-abortion group Emily's List as his White House communications director. Emily's List only supports candidates who favored taxpayer funded abortions and opposed a partial-birth abortion ban.

November 24,2008 - Obama puts former Emily's List board member Melody Barnes in place as his director of the Domestic Policy Council.

November 30,2008 - Obama named pro-abortion Sen. Hillary Clinton as the Secretary of State. Clinton has an unblemished pro-abortion voting record and has supported making unlimited abortions an international right.

December 10,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion former Clinton administration official Jeanne Lambrew to become the deputy director of the White House Office of Health Reform. Planned Parenthood is 'excited' about the selection.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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If I Was President

Election times coming.
Who you gonna vote for?
If I was President,
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday, then go back to work on Monday.
If I was President, If I was President, If I was President
Instead of spendin' Billions on the war,
I could use that money so I can feed the poor.
Cause I know some so poor, when it rains that's when they shower
Screamin' "Fight the power!" That's when the vulture devours.
If I was President,
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday. Then go back to work on Monday
If I was President, If I was President, If I was President.
I know some soldiers that sleep but they can't dream,
Wake up with screams, sounds of them succeed.
So take this medal of honor for your bravery,
I wish you the best care for you and your family.
If I was President,
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday, then go back to work on Monday.
If I was President, If I was President, If I was President.
But the radio won't play this. They call it rebel music.
How can you refuse it? Children of Moses.
Tell the children the truth, the truth.
It's not all that bling that's dimonds.
Tell them the truth, the truth.
Most of yall wear cubics of zycomians.
Tell them the truth, the truth.
Your soldiers worth more than diamonds.
Yeah, If I was President
All blacks have reperation no segregation
Feed the nation until there's no famine Muslims, Jews, Christians
would all hold hands, every week on the beach party by the sand
Word up, take trips on Air Force One,
No need to bring no homless with no sneaks to Air Force One.
Better schools in the hood, better teachers for the classes,
making money, paying no taxes.
Find the best scientist tell'em come up with an answer, I want the
cure for aids and cancer. But I gotta watch my back sniper gonna
heal with the steel waitin for JFK.
If I was President, If I was President.
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday, then go back to work on Monday.
If I was President, If I was President.
I feel the rain comming let me play the guitar for them right now.

[...] Read more

song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Tercius

Incipit Liber Quartus

Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,
Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:
Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,
Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.
Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,
Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.

Upon the vices to procede
After the cause of mannes dede,
The ferste point of Slowthe I calle
Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,
And hath this propreliche of kinde,
To leven alle thing behinde.
Of that he mihte do now hier
He tarieth al the longe yer,
And everemore he seith, 'Tomorwe';
And so he wol his time borwe,
And wissheth after 'God me sende,'
That whan he weneth have an ende,
Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.
Thus bringth he many a meschief inne
Unwar, til that he be meschieved,
And may noght thanne be relieved.
And riht so nowther mor ne lesse
It stant of love and of lachesce:
Som time he slowtheth in a day
That he nevere after gete mai.
Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,
If thou have eny knowleching,
That thou to love hast don er this,
Tell on. Mi goode fader, yis.
As of lachesce I am beknowe
That I mai stonde upon his rowe,
As I that am clad of his suite:
For whanne I thoghte mi poursuite
To make, and therto sette a day
To speke unto the swete May,
Lachesce bad abide yit,
And bar on hond it was no wit
Ne time forto speke as tho.
Thus with his tales to and fro
Mi time in tariinge he drowh:
Whan ther was time good ynowh,
He seide, 'An other time is bettre;
Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,
And per cas wryte more plein
Than thou be Mowthe durstest sein.'

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Vote For Me

Vote for me, vote for me
I want the nomination for the presidency
Vote for me, vote for me
If I am elected, this is how it will be
Ill cut your tax in half
Ill make the russians laugh
Ill feed the hungry people everywhere
Ill bring the railroads back
New trains and new track
From waikiki to old deleware
Vote for me, vote for me
I want the nomination for the presidency
Vote for me, vote for me
If I am elected, this is how it will be
Ill give detroit one year
New cars that run on beer
Or anything except gasoline
Im looking to the sun
More power for everyone
And the cleanest sky that youve ever seen
Im not going to kid you, theres a lot to do
Little can I promise, its really up to you
But if we all work together
And I think we can
And if you want some new ideas
Then Im your man
Vote for me, vote for me
I want the nomination for the presidency
Vote for me, vote for me
If I am elected, this is how it will be
Ill work for global peace
And the sweet release
Of the love and human kindness in us all
I would give all Ive got
You just give me a shot
Somehow, I know that I can win the fall

song performed by Chicago
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Dreams are Born

Ladies and Gentlemen

There is nothing more than an idea whose time has come
Durkheim knows that and everybody knows that
Thanks to Andrew Heywood for defining to us what is meant by the term democracy
The rule of people by people and for people
In South Africa Jackop Zuma was a Deputy President - for past 15 years of democracy

However he was not seen as somebody who might become president
He has was just an entertainer in the political field of ANC
The time came when the questions were being asked wether this person can serve as a president

The complains originate out of Organic Society

An organic Society that is an Industrialised and teach people to define according to their occupation
This is to say you are a nurse, engeneer and or pilot - often you must be educated

But all of that shall end today by means of a vote
Hold on: world hold on right now
Tonight is the night
The tables are overtuned - we are going to have a new South African President - who is democratically elected.
Thankyou to you Lincolin for teaching the universe about what does democracy means
Yesterday Jackop Zuma was taken for granted more especially by those who are highly educated
They a person who is not educated cannot lead the Parliament - he cannot become a president
But people kept on insisting that we want him to lead us and we don't care whether he is educated or not.
If you have been my poem reader and my true proponent you should also remember the poem: by the name South Africa The World's Greatest News.

Where I see a light burning inside of Jackop Zuma's Heart
Where I see some politicians trying to push him off the ruling party through trials and several charges that were all ought to be disapproved and it did indeed happen.
Today: 22 April 2009 is election day and people are going to confirm him to become the South African President - because he had already defeated many troubles and trebulations

However he was not alone in this battle and he does need to wake up in by the next morning or next week and say or I am the state president and I am very happy for that I have overrule my enemies.

There were more than millions people his battle
1 God himself who does not like gays and lesbians that cause his opponet Thabo Mbheki lost popularity

2American proponent who taught us what is democray: that is to say it is not about being educated that qualifies someone to become a president but it is the rule for people - theyare the ones who elect who is to lead.
3Who else can forget the power of Zwelinzima Vavi for observing that the charges that were thrawn to Jackp Zuma were just falsely created fantasy to obscure him from becoming a president

5 Latter on we had young tigers like South Africa honest Judges of the Judges - Van de Merwe and the lattest Judge who discover that there was political intervention in the Prospective President Jackop Zuma charges - and thereby lead to the ousting of immorral politician including Thabo Mbheki

6 Julius Malema is highly visible

Lastly I should like to conclude by my words of inspiratation that are directed to Jackop Zuma and any leader of the world.

If you are a leader you must not practice immorrality or get related in criminal in any way because the world is your facebook and you will repent over that.If you hate someone you must not use courts and or trial method to oust him because law is independent of political plot and it will show off with you all over the world.

Discrimination if you are a president is very bad whether it is covet or overt discrimination it will always pop out to show off the world how corrupt the world is.

[...] Read more

poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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The Author

Accursed the man, whom Fate ordains, in spite,
And cruel parents teach, to read and write!
What need of letters? wherefore should we spell?
Why write our names? A mark will do as well.
Much are the precious hours of youth misspent,
In climbing Learning's rugged, steep ascent;
When to the top the bold adventurer's got,
He reigns, vain monarch, o'er a barren spot;
Whilst in the vale of Ignorance below,
Folly and Vice to rank luxuriance grow;
Honours and wealth pour in on every side,
And proud Preferment rolls her golden tide.
O'er crabbed authors life's gay prime to waste,
To cramp wild genius in the chains of taste,
To bear the slavish drudgery of schools,
And tamely stoop to every pedant's rules;
For seven long years debarr'd of liberal ease,
To plod in college trammels to degrees;
Beneath the weight of solemn toys to groan,
Sleep over books, and leave mankind unknown;
To praise each senior blockhead's threadbare tale,
And laugh till reason blush, and spirits fail;
Manhood with vile submission to disgrace,
And cap the fool, whose merit is his place,
Vice-Chancellors, whose knowledge is but small,
And Chancellors, who nothing know at all:
Ill-brook'd the generous spirit in those days
When learning was the certain road to praise,
When nobles, with a love of science bless'd,
Approved in others what themselves possess'd.
But now, when Dulness rears aloft her throne,
When lordly vassals her wide empire own;
When Wit, seduced by Envy, starts aside,
And basely leagues with Ignorance and Pride;
What, now, should tempt us, by false hopes misled,
Learning's unfashionable paths to tread;
To bear those labours which our fathers bore,
That crown withheld, which they in triumph wore?
When with much pains this boasted learning's got,
'Tis an affront to those who have it not:
In some it causes hate, in others fear,
Instructs our foes to rail, our friends to sneer.
With prudent haste the worldly-minded fool
Forgets the little which he learn'd at school:
The elder brother, to vast fortunes born,
Looks on all science with an eye of scorn;
Dependent brethren the same features wear,
And younger sons are stupid as the heir.
In senates, at the bar, in church and state,
Genius is vile, and learning out of date.

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus

Incipit Liber Primus

Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem
Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:
Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,
Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.
Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas
Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.
Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,
Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.

I may noght strecche up to the hevene
Min hand, ne setten al in evene
This world, which evere is in balance:
It stant noght in my sufficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon othre thinges.
Forthi the Stile of my writinges
Fro this day forth I thenke change
And speke of thing is noght so strange,
Which every kinde hath upon honde,
And wherupon the world mot stonde,
And hath don sithen it began,
And schal whil ther is any man;
And that is love, of which I mene
To trete, as after schal be sene.
In which ther can noman him reule,
For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte,
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
For yet was nevere such covine,
That couthe ordeine a medicine
To thing which god in lawe of kinde
Hath set, for ther may noman finde
The rihte salve of such a Sor.
It hath and schal ben everemor
That love is maister wher he wile,
Ther can no lif make other skile;
For wher as evere him lest to sette,
Ther is no myht which him may lette.
Bot what schal fallen ate laste,

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poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Quintus

Incipit Liber Sextus

Est gula, que nostrum maculavit prima parentem
Ex vetito pomo, quo dolet omnis homo
Hec agit, ut corpus anime contraria spirat,
Quo caro fit crassa, spiritus atque macer.
Intus et exterius si que virtutis habentur,
Potibus ebrietas conviciata ruit.
Mersa sopore labis, que Bachus inebriat hospes,
Indignata Venus oscula raro premit.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------

The grete Senne original,
Which every man in general
Upon his berthe hath envenymed,
In Paradis it was mystymed:
Whan Adam of thilke Appel bot,
His swete morscel was to hot,
Which dedly made the mankinde.
And in the bokes as I finde,
This vice, which so out of rule
Hath sette ous alle, is cleped Gule;
Of which the branches ben so grete,
That of hem alle I wol noght trete,
Bot only as touchende of tuo
I thenke speke and of no mo;
Wherof the ferste is Dronkeschipe,
Which berth the cuppe felaschipe.
Ful many a wonder doth this vice,
He can make of a wisman nyce,
And of a fool, that him schal seme
That he can al the lawe deme,
And yiven every juggement
Which longeth to the firmament
Bothe of the sterre and of the mone;
And thus he makth a gret clerk sone
Of him that is a lewed man.
Ther is nothing which he ne can,
Whil he hath Dronkeschipe on honde,
He knowth the See, he knowth the stronde,
He is a noble man of armes,
And yit no strengthe is in his armes:
Ther he was strong ynouh tofore,
With Dronkeschipe it is forlore,
And al is changed his astat,
And wext anon so fieble and mat,
That he mai nouther go ne come,
Bot al togedre him is benome
The pouer bothe of hond and fot,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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My Vote

A single vote may be your victory………..

my vote create the world i live.......a vote that brings my
future near to the distance i see

my vote holds me to achieve..... a reality of my dream to
Conquer, grasp according to my wish

my vote change the chaos i encounter.......a life saving
design of what will be tomorrow of my destiny

my vote wonder every breathe.......a victory to where to
go, beyond uncertain pathways

my vote remember my aspiration.....a longing of joy and
happiness, wonting to know of peace

my vote brings my life......a remembrance of my life of
today, a parting print of my thumbs forever

…..please let my vote be seen, touch and listen for the
wings of the ink, has whisper the truth of what will be
the beginning of history, made this print easy to
count my vote in you is you’re……. victory

poem by Antonio Liao
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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The Farewell

_P_. Farewell to Europe, and at once farewell
To all the follies which in Europe dwell;
To Eastern India now, a richer clime,
Richer, alas! in everything but rhyme,
The Muses steer their course; and, fond of change,
At large, in other worlds, desire to range;
Resolved, at least, since they the fool must play,
To do it in a different place, and way.
_F_. What whim is this, what error of the brain,
What madness worse than in the dog-star's reign?
Why into foreign countries would you roam,
Are there not knaves and fools enough at home?
If satire be thy object--and thy lays
As yet have shown no talents fit for praise--
If satire be thy object, search all round,
Nor to thy purpose can one spot be found
Like England, where, to rampant vigour grown,
Vice chokes up every virtue; where, self-sown,
The seeds of folly shoot forth rank and bold,
And every seed brings forth a hundredfold.
_P_. No more of this--though Truth, (the more our shame,
The more our guilt) though Truth perhaps may claim,
And justify her part in this, yet here,
For the first time, e'en Truth offends my ear;
Declaim from morn to night, from night to morn,
Take up the theme anew, when day's new-born,
I hear, and hate--be England what she will,
With all her faults, she is my country still.
_F_. Thy country! and what then? Is that mere word
Against the voice of Reason to be heard?
Are prejudices, deep imbibed in youth,
To counteract, and make thee hate the truth?
'Tis sure the symptom of a narrow soul
To draw its grand attachment from the whole,
And take up with a part; men, not confined
Within such paltry limits, men design'd
Their nature to exalt, where'er they go,
Wherever waves can roll, and winds can blow,
Where'er the blessed sun, placed in the sky
To watch this subject world, can dart his eye,
Are still the same, and, prejudice outgrown,
Consider every country as their own;
At one grand view they take in Nature's plan,
Not more at home in England than Japan.
_P_. My good, grave Sir of Theory, whose wit,
Grasping at shadows, ne'er caught substance yet,
'Tis mighty easy o'er a glass of wine
On vain refinements vainly to refine,
To laugh at poverty in plenty's reign,
To boast of apathy when out of pain,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Here Comes President Kill Again

Here comes president kill again,
Surrounded by all of his killing men.
Telling us who, why, where and when,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, ring out the bells,
King conscience is dead.
Hooray, now back in your cells,
Weve president kill instead.
Here comes president kill again.
Broadcasting from his killing den.
Dressed in pounds and dollars and yen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, hang out the flags,
Queen caring is dead.
Hooray, well stack body bags,
For president kill instead.
Aint democracy wonderful?
Them russians cant win!
Aint democracy wonderful?
Lets us vote someone like that in.
Here comes president kill again,
From pure white house to number 10.
Taking lives with a smoking pen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, everythings great,
Now president kill is dead.
Hooray, Ill bet you cant wait,
To vote for president kill instead...

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Here Comes President Kill Again

Here comes president kill again,
Surrounded by all of his killing men.
Telling us who, why, where and when,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, ring out the bells,
King conscience is dead.
Hooray, now back in your cells,
Weve president kill instead.
Here comes president kill again.
Broadcasting from his killing den.
Dressed in pounds and dollars and yen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, hang out the flags,
Queen caring is dead.
Hooray, well stack body bags,
For president kill instead.
Aint democracy wonderful?
Them russians cant win!
Aint democracy wonderful?
Lets us vote someone like that in.
Here comes president kill again,
From pure white house to number 10.
Taking lives with a smoking pen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, everythings great,
Now president kill is dead.
Hooray, Ill bet you cant wait,
To vote for president kill instead...

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Candidate

This poem was written in , on occasion of the contest between the
Earls of Hardwicke and Sandwich for the High-stewardship of the
University of Cambridge, vacant by the death of the Lord Chancellor
Hardwicke. The spirit of party ran high in the University, and no
means were left untried by either candidate to obtain a majority. The
election was fixed for the th of March, when, after much
altercation, the votes appearing equal, a scrutiny was demanded;
whereupon the Vice-Chancellor adjourned the senate _sine die_. On
appeal to the Lord High-Chancellor, he determined in favour of the
Earl of Hardwicke, and a mandamus issued accordingly.

Enough of Actors--let them play the player,
And, free from censure, fret, sweat, strut, and stare;
Garrick abroad, what motives can engage
To waste one couplet on a barren stage?
Ungrateful Garrick! when these tasty days,
In justice to themselves, allow'd thee praise;
When, at thy bidding, Sense, for twenty years,
Indulged in laughter, or dissolved in tears;
When in return for labour, time, and health,
The town had given some little share of wealth,
Couldst thou repine at being still a slave?
Darest thou presume to enjoy that wealth she gave?
Couldst thou repine at laws ordain'd by those
Whom nothing but thy merit made thy foes?
Whom, too refined for honesty and trade,
By need made tradesmen, Pride had bankrupts made;
Whom Fear made drunkards, and, by modern rules,
Whom Drink made wits, though Nature made them fools;
With such, beyond all pardon is thy crime,
In such a manner, and at such a time,
To quit the stage; but men of real sense,
Who neither lightly give, nor take offence,
Shall own thee clear, or pass an act of grace,
Since thou hast left a Powell in thy place.
Enough of Authors--why, when scribblers fail,
Must other scribblers spread the hateful tale?
Why must they pity, why contempt express,
And why insult a brother in distress?
Let those, who boast the uncommon gift of brains
The laurel pluck, and wear it for their pains;
Fresh on their brows for ages let it bloom,
And, ages past, still flourish round their tomb.
Let those who without genius write, and write,
Versemen or prosemen, all in Nature's spite,
The pen laid down, their course of folly run
In peace, unread, unmention'd, be undone.
Why should I tell, to cross the will of Fate,
That Francis once endeavour'd to translate?
Why, sweet oblivion winding round his head,

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poem by Charles Churchill
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The Borough. Letter XIV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Life Of Blaney

OBSERVE that tall pale Veteran! what a look
Of shame and guilt!--who cannot read that book?
Misery and mirth are blended in his face,
Much innate vileness and some outward grace;
There wishes strong and stronger griefs are seen,
Looks ever changed, and never one serene:
Show not that manner, and these features all,
The serpent's cunning, and the sinner's fall?
Hark to that laughter!--'tis the way he takes
To force applause for each vile jest he makes;
Such is yon man, by partial favour sent
To these calm seats to ponder and repent.
Blaney, a wealthy heir at twenty-one,
At twenty-five was ruin'd and undone,
These years with grievous crimes we need not load,
He found his ruin in the common road! -
Gamed without skill, without inquiry bought,
Lent without love, and borrow'd without thought.
But, gay and handsome, he had soon the dower
Of a kind wealthy widow in his power:
Then he aspired to loftier flights of vice,
To singing harlots of enormous price:
He took a jockey in his gig to buy
A horse so valued that a duke was shy:
To gain the plaudits of the knowing few,
Gamblers and grooms, what would not Blaney do?
His dearest friend, at that improving age,
Was Hounslow Dick, who drove the western stage.
Cruel he was not--if he left his wife,
He left her to her own pursuits in life;
Deaf to reports, to all expenses blind,
Profuse, not just, and careless, but not kind.
Yet, thus assisted, ten long winters pass'd
In wasting guineas ere he saw his last;
Then he began to reason, and to feel
He could not dig, nor had he learn'd to steal;
And should he beg as long as he might live,
He justly fear'd that nobody would give:
But he could charge a pistol, and at will
All that was mortal, by a bullet kill:
And he was taught, by those whom he would call
Man's surest guides, that he was mortal all.
While thus he thought, still waiting for the day
When he should dare to blow his brains away,
A place for him a kind relation found,
Where England's monarch ruled, but far from English

ground:
He gave employ that might for bread suffice,
Correct his habits and restrain his vice.

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poem by George Crabbe
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Adam Lambert Gay or Straight Part 1

Rewrite of the hit Katy Perry song, Hot N' Cold

Don't change your mind about voting for him
Just because sometimes he likes to get dressed up
In women's clothes
Yeah, for him, I'm sending out this urgent S.O.S.
Winning this show can be a b, I know
But still I think he deserves the title
More than that other lame he-ho

So no need to overthink
Or speak of him overly critically
'Cause by now I think we all know
He's the one to let be
Idol's 2009 rockstar for sure

So if you think he's hot
Then don't you be so cold
Say yes to him
Never no
Take him in
Into your heart
Even through he's come out
Cheer him on
Vote him up
Don't let him down
Leave behind that prejudice wrong
To embrace what's right
Vote for Adam and show the world
Rather he's gay or he's straight
His talent is all that really matters tonight

Before our superstar came along
Idol used to be to me
Just like that old boy band, N'Sync
Empty of anything orignal
Lacking that spark of energy
Now that's all changed
Thanks to him
Lighting up that stage like a non-stop energizer battery

Used to think this reality show hype was all about nothin'
Just so plain boring
Now I know better
That thanks to him it can all change

So if you think he's hot
Then don't you be so cold
Say yes to him
Never no

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poem by Ramona Thompson
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Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan

I

In a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,
There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things to shout about,
And knock your old blue devils out.

I brag and chant of Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan,
Candidate for president who sketched a silver Zion,
The one American Poet who could sing outdoors,
He brought in tides of wonder, of unprecedented splendor,
Wild roses from the plains, that made hearts tender,
All the funny circus silks
Of politics unfurled,
Bartlett pears of romance that were honey at the cores,
And torchlights down the street, to the end of the world.

There were truths eternal in the gap and tittle-tattle.
There were real heads broken in the fustian and the rattle.
There were real lines drawn:
Not the silver and the gold,
But Nebraska's cry went eastward against the dour and old,
The mean and cold.

It was eighteen ninety-six, and I was just sixteen
And Altgeld ruled in Springfield, Illinois,
When there came from the sunset Nebraska's shout of joy:
In a coat like a deacon, in a black Stetson hat
He scourged the elephant plutocrats
With barbed wire from the Platte.
The scales dropped from their mighty eyes.
They saw that summer's noon
A tribe of wonders coming
To a marching tune.

Oh the longhorns from Texas,
The jay hawks from Kansas,
The plop-eyed bungaroo and giant giassicus,
The varmint, chipmunk, bugaboo,
The horn-toad, prairie-dog and ballyhoo,
From all the newborn states arow,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on.
The fawn, prodactyl, and thing-a-ma-jig,
The rackaboor, the hellangone,
The whangdoodle, batfowl and pig,
The coyote, wild-cat and grizzly in a glow,
In a miracle of health and speed, the whole breed abreast,
The leaped the Mississippi, blue border of the West,
From the Gulf to Canada, two thousand miles long:-
Against the towns of Tubal Cain,

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poem by Vachel Lindsay
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All Different, But Still The Same

Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.

Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.

Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.

Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.

Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.

Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.

Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.

Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.

Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.

Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.

We are all different, but still the same.

When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.

Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.

Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong

poem by Phyllis Strong
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Splitting Infinitives

Chief Justice Roberts hates to split
infinitives, and boldly goes
towards the future without wit,
his path as prim as that prim rose
that once Polonius boldly took,
advising Hamlet not to dally.
The Constitution almost shook
when he refused to shilly-shally,
and tried to wander in a way
that was unfaithful to the text
the oath of office. The next day
the problem was resolved, and now,
Queen’s English and our own unregal
language must agree that splitting
of infinitives is legal,
although pedantically unfitting,
since we’ve a President who swore
appropriately, and a Justice
who like Polonius is a bore
and clearly just as dry as dust is.

Inspired by Stephen Pinker’s Op-Ed article in the NYT, January 22,2009, appropriately titled “Oaf of Office, ” commenting on the fiasco created by Chief Justice Roberts when administering the oath of office to President Obama according togrammatical rules that conflict with the original text of the oath:
In 1969, Neil Armstrong appeared to have omitted an indefinite article as he stepped onto the moon and left earthlings puzzled over the difference between “man” and “mankind.” In 1980, Jimmy Carter, accepting his party’s nomination, paid homage to a former vice president he called Hubert Horatio Hornblower. A year later, Diana Spencer reversed the first two names of her betrothed in her wedding vows, and thus, as Prince Charles Philip supposedly later joked, actually married his father. On Tuesday, Chief Justice John Roberts joined the Flubber Hall of Fame when he administered the presidential oath of office apparently without notes. Instead of having Barack Obama “solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of president of the United States, ” Chief Justice Roberts had him “solemnly swear that I will execute the office of president to the United States faithfully.” When Mr. Obama paused after “execute, ” the chief justice prompted him to continue with “faithfully the office of president of the United States.” (To ensure that the president was properly sworn in, the chief justice re-administered the oath Wednesday evening.)
How could a famous stickler for grammar have bungled that 35-word passage, among the best-known words in the Constitution? Conspiracy theorists and connoisseurs of Freudian slips have surmised that it was unconscious retaliation for Senator Obama’s vote against the chief justice’s confirmation in 2005. But a simpler explanation is that the wayward adverb in the passage is blowback from Chief Justice Roberts’s habit of grammatical niggling. Language pedants hew to an oral tradition of shibboleths that have no basis in logic or style, that have been defied by great writers for centuries, and that have been disavowed by every thoughtful usage manual. Nonetheless, they refuse to go away, perpetuated by the Gotcha! Gang and meekly obeyed by insecure writers. Among these fetishes is the prohibition against “split verbs, ” in which an adverb comes between an infinitive marker like “to, ” or an auxiliary like “will, ” and the main verb of the sentence. According to this superstition, Captain Kirk made a grammatical error when he declared that the five-year mission of the starship Enterprise was “to boldly go where no man has gone before”; it should have been “to go boldly.” Likewise, Dolly Parton should not have declared that “I will always love you” but “I always will love you” or “I will love you always.”
Any speaker who has not been brainwashed by the split-verb myth can sense that these corrections go against the rhythm and logic of English phrasing. The myth originated centuries ago in a thick-witted analogy to Latin, in which it is impossible to split an infinitive because it consists of a single word, like dicere, “to say.” But in English, infinitives like “to go” and future-tense forms like “will go” are two words, not one, and there is not the slightest reason to interdict adverbs from the position between them.
Though the ungrammaticality of split verbs is an urban legend, it found its way into The Texas Law Review Manual on Style, which is the arbiter of usage for many law review journals. James Lindgren, a critic of the manual, has found that many lawyers have “internalized the bogus rule so that they actually believe that a split verb should be avoided, ” adding, “The Invasion of the Body Snatchers has succeeded so well that many can no longer distinguish alien speech from native speech.” In his legal opinions, Chief Justice Roberts has altered quotations to conform to his notions of grammaticality, as when he excised the “ain’t” from Bob Dylan’s line “When you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to lose.” On Tuesday his inner copy editor overrode any instincts toward strict constructionism and unilaterally amended the Constitution by moving the adverb “faithfully” away from the verb. President Obama, whose attention to language is obvious in his speeches and writings, smiled at the chief justice’s hypercorrection, then gamely repeated it. Let’s hope that during the next four years he will always challenge dogma and boldly lead the nation in new directions.

1/22/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
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A Series of Tubes

That there Internet thingy
is like a series of tubes
All the smart fellas
in the hole world
got tagether and
they put smart stuff in them tubes
An now all ya gotta do
to larn stuff
is getcha self connected to that
Internet thingy
(You will need a computer for this)
(and some other stuff + electricty)
They you can pull stuff
up from them tubes
smart reading stuff
(if ya like that kinda thing)
or even important stuff
like how to knock down your old barn or shed
or even how to build a real bomb
(not for knocking down the barn though)

I know all this cause my congress man talked about it on TV
And George W. Bush says so two (I think cause he outta no)

The End (only the end of this poem)

If you like this poem a whole lot I think you should vote 9-10
(mostly 10 i hope)
If you like it some but not the very most maybe vote 6-8
(but you could still vote 9 or 10 to be nice)
If you only think it is middlin they go head and vote 5
(cause that's in the middle of 1-10)
If you kinda don't care for it you could vote it a 2,3, or 4
(that would be kinda low though)
If you hate this poem then you are left with only a 1
(there are no zero votes)
(But I think a 1 vote is not called for unless you are pretty mean though the last time I looked this was still a free country so you can vote 1 if that is how your mind runs)
Thanks for voting or not. (and tell your friends if you liked this poem)

probably don't tell them if you did not vote more than a 5

Billy Bob

poem by Billy Bob Noes
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