It's a lucky child that knows that they're a genius, unaimed and all that.
quote by Diana Wynne Jones
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Song of Wink Star
The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008
☼ ☼
☼ Preamble
Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…
Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…
Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…
O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….
Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….
☼ The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
☼ 1
Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.
And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.
Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.
Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.
[...] Read more
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Song Of Being A Child
When the child was a child
It walked with arms hanging
Wanted the stream to be a river and the river a torrent
And this puddle, the sea
When the child was a child, it didnt know
It was a child
Everything for it was filled with life and all life was one
Saw the horizon without trying to reach it
Couldnt rush itself and think on command
Was often terribly bored
And couldnt wait
Passed up greeting the moments
And prayed only with its lips
When the child was a child
It didnt have an opinion about a thing
Had no habits
Often sat crossed-legged, took off running
Had a cow lick in its hair
And didnt put on a face when photographed
When the child was a child
It was the time of the following questions
Why am I me and why not you
Why am I here and why not there
Why did time begin and where does space end
Isnt what I see and hear and smell
Just the appearance of the world in front of the world
Isnt life under the sun just a dream
Does evil actually exist in people
Who really are evil
Why cant it be that I who am
Wasnt before I was
And that sometime i, the i, I am
No longer will be the i, I am
When the child was a child
It gagged on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding
And on steamed cauliflower
And now eats all of it and not just because it has to
When the child was a child
It woke up once in a strange bed
And now time and time again
Many people seem beautiful to it
And now not so many and now only if its lucky
It had a precise picture of paradise
And now can only vaguely conceive of it at best
It couldnt imagine nothingness
And today shudders in the face of it
Go for the ball
Which today rolls between its legs
With its Im here it came
Into the house which now is empty
[...] Read more
song performed by Van Morrison
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GENIUS IN FRANCE
I'm not the brightest crayon in the box
Everyone says I'm dumber than a bag of rocks
I barely even know how to put on my own pants
But I'm a genius in France (yeah), genius in France, genius in France
Hoom chaka laka hoom chaka laka hoom chaka
I may not be the sharpest hunk of cheese
I got a negative number on my SATS
I'm not good looking, and I don't know how to dance
But nevertheless and in spite of the evidence I am still widely considered to be a
Genius in France, genius in France, genius in France
People say I'm a geek, a moronic little freak
An annoying pipsqueak with an unfortunate physique
If I was any dumber, they'd have to water me twice a week
But when the Mademoiselles see me, they all swoon and shriek
They dig my mystique, they think I'm c'est magnifique
When I'm in Par-ee, I'm the chic-est of the chic
They love my body odor and my bad toupee
They love my stripey shirt and my stupid beret
And when I'm sipping on a Perrier
In some caf down in St. Tropez
It's hard to keep the fans at bay
They say, "Sign my poodle, s'il vous plat"
"Sign my poodle, s'il vous plat"
Hemenene humenene himenene homenene
Poodle... poodle...
Folks in my hometown think I'm a fool
Got too much chlorine in my gene pool
A few peas short of a casserole
A few buttons missing on my remote control
A few fries short of a happy meal
I couldn't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel
Instructions on the heel
But when I'm in Provence, I get free croissants *Bela bark*
Yeah, I'm the guy every French lady wants
And if you ask 'em why, you're bound to get this response:
(He's a genius in France! Genius in France!) That's right!
(He's a genius in France! Genius in France!) You know it!
(He's a genius in France, genius in France, genius in France!)
I'm not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree
But the folks in France, they don't seem to agree
They say, "Bonjour, Monsieur, would you take ze picture with me?"
I say, "Oui oui"
That's right, I say, "Oui oui"
"Oui oui"
He says, "Oui oui"
I'm dumber than a box of hair
But those Frenchies don't seem to care
Don't know why, mon frre
But they love me there
I'm a genius in France
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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Life's A Genius
Life's a genius.
Not a mediocrity
looking for reasons to live in the morning.
Life's not a plan.
It's a spirit that doesn't need one
whether things go right or wrong.
Life is light and water.
It delights in going everywhere at once.
Mediocrities have genius
but they don't know how
to play with it like a child.
Their eyes peek
through knotholes in the fence
but they sacrifice their longing
on the conventional altars of common-sense
and never throw the ball back over the hills
like the moon coming up
or the sun going down
without worrying about
breaking the neighbours'windows.
Life throws whole mountains around
and turns the cornerstones into quicksand
and goes down with Atlantis
only to come up again like Moby Dick
spewing stars out of its blowhole.
Mediocrity has its feet planted firmly on the ground.
It never goes anywhere it hasn't gone before.
It's the kind of fire
that sleeps with an extinquisher
in case things get too hot to put out.
Mediocrity shares.
But life's the kind of genius
that gives like an apple-tree
that fully expresses itself
through infinitely more
than four seasons
no two alike
without caring if it's of any benefit to anyone.
Mediocrity's stunned by the blossoms.
Genius tastes the fruit.
Life's the kind of fire
that doesn't have a root
you can pull up and take home with you
to add to your garden
like a new word to your vocabulary.
Mediocrity spells it out.
But genius is the dream grammar
of a spiritual alphabet
that isn't used to taking orders.
It doesn't have twenty-six words for inspiration
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
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Child Molester
Note- I wanted to write something something darker and deeper then what I currently have been.
This is what came out.
Dark Rewrite of Britney Spear's Womanizer
Storyline-One woman takes the stand that no one else will to save her street from the unthinkable
Perverted neighbor
I know where you're from
I think it's best you get your twisted... going
Got more then just a clue what you're up to
You can play squeaky clean tp all the others gathered here
But I know what you really are, what you really are sickie
Look at you
Tryin' to act so on the up and up
Sickie, you
Got everyone else here fooled
But not me, oh no, not me
Fakin' like deep down you're a good one
Let's just lay our cards out on the table
Get it all out now
Call 'em like we both know 'em
Child molester, child-child molester
You're a child molester
Oh, child molester, oh you're a child molester, sickie
You-you know-you know you are
You-you know-you know you are
Child molester, child molester, child molester
Sicko, don't try stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
Sicko, don't try to stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
(Spoken) You got some kind of twisted game goin'
You got them all believin' you're so charmin'
But I won't let you keep on doin' it
You child molester
Sicko, don't try stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
Sicko, don't try to stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
(Spoken) You say I'm crazy
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Sixth Book
THE English have a scornful insular way
Of calling the French light. The levity
Is in the judgment only, which yet stands;
For say a foolish thing but oft enough,
(And here's the secret of a hundred creeds,–
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell,
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing
Shall pass at least for absolutely wise,
And not with fools exclusively. And so,
We say the French are light, as if we said
The cat mews, or the milch-cow gives us milk:
Say rather, cats are milked, and milch cows mew,
For what is lightness but inconsequence,
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and cause,
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet light,
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while the eye
Winks, and the heart beats one, to flatten itself
To a wafer on the white speck on a wall
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim,
Is this French people.
All idealists
Too absolute and earnest, with them all
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh;
And still, devouring the safe interval
Which Nature placed between the thought and act,
They threaten conflagration to the world
And rush with most unscrupulous logic on
Impossible practice. Set your orators
To blow upon them with loud windy mouths
Through watchword phrases, jest or sentiment,
Which drive our burley brutal English mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way they blow,–
This light French people will not thus be driven.
They turn indeed; but then they turn upon
Some central pivot of their thought and choice,
And veer out by the force of holding fast.
–That's hard to understand, for Englishmen
Unused to abstract questions, and untrained
To trace the involutions, valve by valve,
In each orbed bulb-root of a general truth,
And mark what subtly fine integument
Divides opposed compartments. Freedom's self
Comes concrete to us, to be understood,
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
To suit our ways of thought and reverence,
The special form, with us, being still the thing.
With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
My mother's birth and grave, by father's grave
And memory; let it be,–a poet's heart
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Everybody Knows
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
Thats how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died
Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that youve been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows youve been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
Thats how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
Thats how it goes
Everybody knows
And everybody knows that its now or never
Everybody knows that its me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when youve done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old black joes still pickin cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows
And everybody knows that the plague is coming
Everybody knows that its moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But theres gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows
And everybody knows that youre in trouble
Everybody knows what youve been through
From the bloody cross on top of calvary
To the beach of malibu
[...] Read more
song performed by Leonard Cohen
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Everybody Know
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died
Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you've been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you've been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
And everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you've done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe's still pickin' cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows
And everybody knows that the Plague is coming
Everybody knows that it's moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But there's gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows
And everybody knows that you're in trouble
Everybody knows what you've been through
From the bloody cross on top of Calvary
To the beach of Malibu
[...] Read more
song performed by Leonard Cohen
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Lucky Arms
(j.b. rudd/vip vipperman)
Hes got lucky arms
He gets to hold her
The way I know I never will again
Theyre dancing close
With her head on his shoulder
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
They dont see me standing in these shadows
She dont know how bad my heart still aches
Hes holding on to everything I let go
Sure is making good off my mistakes
Hes got lucky arms
He gets to hold her
The way I know I never will again
Theyre dancing close
With her head on his shoulder
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
Before too long the music will stop playing
Hell take her hand and then hell take her home
And I can just imagine what hes saying
The way hes smiling I can tell he knows
Hes got lucky arms
He gets to hold her
The way I know I never will again
Theyre dancing close
With her head on his shoulder
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
Lucky arms, lucky heart
He ought to thank his lucky stars
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
song performed by John Michael Montgomery
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Lucky One
Youre the kind
When you love you love with all your might and
Youre the kind
I would dream about at night
Now Im the lucky one
Baby Im the lucky one
Youre the kind
That I want to be with in the dark and
Youre the kind
Who is capturing my heart
And Im the lucky one
Baby Im the lucky one
And I have never been the one to fall in love so soon
But I could never face another night or day without you
Baby Im the lucky one
Youre the kind
With poetry and valentines and
Youre the kind
Who will never ever leave
And Im the lucky one
The luckiest girl
My, my, my baby
Baby Im the lucky one
And I have never been the one to fall in love so soon
But I could never face another night or day without you, you-hoo
Im the lucky one
Baby Im the lucky one
I said
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Ah, my, my, my baby
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Baby Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, hey, Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Ah, my, my, my baby
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Hey Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Baby Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Hey Im the lucky one
song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hey Lucky Lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady I was once the lucky lady
I was happy with my baby I was such a lucky lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady you are now the lucky lady
Are you happy with my baby you know you're a lucky lady you lucky lady
Lucky lady that's what I was I was happy to have his love
All a woman could wish for he was that and so much more
He was mine and how I loved him before your hands ever touched him
Long before your temptin' eyes lured my baby from my life
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Is it love or is it pleasure do you know you've found a treasure
Are you only having fun do you know the prize you've won
If you don't want something lasting if it's just the time you're passing
Lucky lady give him up cause I do love him very much
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
song performed by Dolly Parton, music by Dolly Parton (1975)
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The Story Of Nevermore
now I cast a hypnotic spell
to free a child from her hell
surrender now child fall deep in my spell
just come to me child and all will be well
rise now child in sleep you now come
walk now child thought your scenes stay numb
fall now child in to a peaceful dream
but nothing there is as it seems
even thought child in you dream all is right
really your body walks still throw the night
relax now child let that dream ease your mind
follow now child let my voice be your guild
don’t worry child my intentions are pure
you’ll be happy with me of that I am sure
I’m just so tired of being alone
I want a child all of my own
so sleepwalk now child to the pull of my charm
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be safe in my arms
nevermore child shall you cry out in pain
your old life will be lost but a new one will be gained
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be my daughter soon
find your way to me child by the light of the moon
sleepwalk to me child and I’ll show you my ways
all the things I can show you; you’ll be amazed
sleepwalk to me child your almost here
come to me child soon all will be clear
sleepwalk to me child come meet your new mom
soon the whole world will rest in your palm
I see you now child I have you in sight
I run to you child now all is right
your eyes are dazed child unseeing and blank
I can see you now child what a great daughter you’ll make
come to me child collapse in my arms
come to me child you’re safe now from harm
I hold you now child and cradle you close to my heart
I hum to you child as I carry you throw the dark
were home now dear child far from all you ones knew
were home now dear child only one thing left to do
I made this child a special potion just for you
and with it your life begins anew
[...] Read more
poem by Raven Nevermore
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Surfs Up
A diamond necklace played the pawn
Hand in hand some drummed along, oh
To a handsome man and baton
A blind class aristocracy
Back through the opera glass you see
The pit and the pendulum drawn
Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping?
Hung velvet overtaken me
Dim chandelier awaken me
To a song dissolved in the dawn
The music hall a costly bow
The music all is lost for now
To a muted trumperter swan
Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping, brother john?
Dove nested towers the hour was
Strike the street quicksilver moon
Carriage across the fog
Two-step to lamp lights cellar tune
The laughs come hard in auld lang syne
The glass was raised, the fired rose
The fullness of the wine, the dim last toasting
While at port adieu or die
A choke of grief hard hardened i
Beyond belief a broken man too tough to cry
Surfs up
Aboard a tidal wave
Come about hard and join
The young and often spring you gave
I heard the word
Wonderful thing
A childrens song
Child, child, child, child, child
A child is the father of the man
Child, child, child, child, child
A child is the father of the man
A childrens song
Have you listened as they played
Their song is love
And the children know the way
Thats why the child is the father to the man
Child, child, child, child, child
Child, child, child, child, child
Na na na na na na na na
Child, child, child, child, child
Thats why the child is the father to the man
Child, child, child, child, child
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Baby Knows
{co-lead vocal by sheryl crow}
Baby knows
Baby knows
Baby knows, huh
Baby knows
(baby knows) - this funky joint in the city
(baby knows) - where the freaks come out 2 play
(baby knows) - venezuelan, black and pretty
(baby knows) - the kind that make u wanna pay, yeah
Chorus:
(baby knows) - she got the long dark legs
(baby knows) - she got the butt that go round
(baby knows) - this kind of poochie make u beg
(baby knows) - turn a dog into a hound
(baby knows) - she tell me what I wanna hear
(baby knows) - she stroke me up and never down
(baby knows) - whispering sexiness in my ear
(baby knows) - Im just a junkie 4 the sound
(baby knows) - she make u call your boys
(baby knows) - in a pow-wow 2 scope a plan
(baby knows) - how 2 ditch her man in a trunk of a lexus
A perplexing hex this witch has flexed
Chorus
Oh, baby - oh, baby
Baby
(baby knows) - she knows how 2 make u feel
(baby knows) - like your stuff aint brown tonite
(baby knows) - and her perfume... it smells like the weekend
(baby knows) - this funky joint way down in the city
(baby knows) - where the girls sing along 2 the hip-hop all nite long
(baby knows) - white girls, black girls, latinas - oh so pretty
(baby knows) - wont make me give u this ring, baby
Oh, oh, oh
Chorus
Ough, ough
Yeah (baby, baby)
Baby knows
Yeah-yeah (baby, baby)
Baby knows
She got the long dark legs - (baby knows)
She got the butt that go round (round and round)
This kind of poochie make u beg - (baby knows)
Give me your number and I call u
No, u do just turn me down
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Girl
There are some girls whod never take a chance
And yet they say that they need more romance
Diamonds and pearls are all some girls can see
Your kiss is the jewel for me
Im such a lucky girl
There are some girls whod never take a chance
And yet they say that they need more romance
Diamonds and pearls are all some girls can see
Your kiss is the jewel for me
Im such a lucky girl
You make me feel like the only girl in the world
Im such a lucky girl
You do it to me like its never been done before
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
And when you look at me, I know its true
Im gonna spend my whole life here with you
And in my world, only one fantasy, you give it all to me
Im such a lucky girl
You make me feel like the only girl in the world
Im such a lucky girl
You do it to me like its never been done before
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
Now, I thank my lucky stars above
For giving me the best of you to love
In love and in luck
Ive got one guarantee
cause I got you here with me
Im such a lucky girl
You make me feel like the only girl in the world
Im such a lucky girl
You do it to me like its never been done before
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
Im such a lucky girl
Lucky, lucky, lucky girl
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
Lucky, lucky, lucky girl
song performed by Gloria Estefan
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The Rosciad
Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.
Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Churchill
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Everybody Knows
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the war is over
And everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor and the rich get rich
Thats how it goes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
That their father or their dog just died
Everybody talkin to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
And everybody knows
( chorus )
Everybody knows, everybody knows
Thats how it goes, and everybody
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that youve been faithful
Give or take a night or two
Everbody knows that youve been discret
There were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows that its now or never
Everybody knows that its me or you
Everybody knows that you live forever
When youve done a line or two
And everybody knows that the deal is rotten
Old black joes still pickin cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows
( chorus x2 )
Everbody knows that the plaque is comin
Everybody knows that its movin fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows that the scene is dead,
But theres gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose,
What everybody knows
Everybody knows that youre in trouble
Everybody knows what youve been through
From the bloody cross on top of calvary
To the beach at malibu
And everybody knows its coming apart
Take one last look at this sacred heart
[...] Read more
song performed by Don Henley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wishing I Was Lucky
I was living in a world of make believe
When my best friend wrote and told me
That there may be a job in the city
And you never told me
He would dream about another scheme
About another sordid hall of dreams
About a man whos king of industry
He would swear by his mouth almighty
He would buy the best
But never something new
And he never told me
I like kicking in the gutter and
Wishing I was lucky
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
Oh I like kicking in the gutter
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
Its the only life I know
Lie, lie, lie is all you ever do
To make me want to push on through
Cry, cry, cry cry is all I ever do
Say thats how you want to make me push on through
I like kicking in the gutter and
Wishing I was lucky
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
Oh I like kicking in the gutter
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
My best friend wrote and told me so
He said that there may be a job in the city
I like kicking in the gutter and
Wishing I was lucky
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
I was wishing I was lucky
Hey son go, hey son go, to the city
song performed by Wet Wet Wet
Added by Lucian Velea
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Everybody Knows Why The Children Are Hungry
Everybody knows why the children are hungry.
Everybody knows why the poor give up dreaming
and the rich can't sleep without surveillance.
Everybody knows why this young girl can't read
and the Taliban throw acid in her face.
Everybody knows why this young boy
at twelve years old
feels about as heroic as a statistic
and looks at the future as if
he were already a has-been.
Everybody knows why there's a rifle in his hand.
Everybody knows why
there are people washed up
on the streets of our cities
as if a great ship of state had gone down
like a garbage barge off the coast of New Jersey.
Everybody knows why
women are being sexually colonized
in the Democratic Republic of the mineral-rich Congo.
Everybody knows their atrocities
like serial killers and baseball cards.
You read a lot of existentialism
that prefers existence to essence
but you still find it hard to picture the abyss
that defines being as a special case of nothingness:
look into a dead child's eyes
look into a dead child's mind
look at what she cherished about life
like a cosmology all of her own
a myth of origin
a reason for stars
rejected by the metaphysics of the flies
that gather like punctuation marks all over her eyes.
Everybody knows
why the truth is veiled in spider-webs
that are maintained like political systems
who let the few who know how to spin silk out of their ass
eat everyone.
New eyes for old lamps
here comes this year's candidates
like autumn to the ballot-box
like worms to a windfall of apples
to improve the lives of illegal immigrants
by privatizing concentration camps.
Everybody wants to stick their thumb in plum pudding
and say what a good boy am I
and everybody forgets who they stole it from
and everybody regrets that they didn't get caught
in time to do it all over again
as they address themselves like greed
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
Added by Poetry Lover
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