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With the media, I could be quick and ugly and critical. I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve.

quote by Payne Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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Condition Critical

Oh the tension's mounting
The pressure starts to show
All the men in haunting
Please don't let me go
(Don't go)
Try to free my body
(Don't go)
Try to strap me down
(Don't go)
These'll never break me
(Don't go)
Free wheel to look at me
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
The bells they are ringing
Or is it in my head
My nerves numb understanding
I'm falling out of bed
(Don't go)
So call it paranoia
(Don't go)
I don't see it that way
(Let's go)
You say I adore ya
(Hell no)
We're gonna rock they way
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
Ooh ooh
Whips and chains
Don't feel no pain
What's so wrong
I think I'm going out of my head
Over heels
I can't feel
No pain, only pleasure
Get me out
Take me home
Can't you see my condition
Woo-woo-woo
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical

[...] Read more

song performed by Quiet Riot
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You Wear It So Well

All of those things
Yeah, that you got to give
Yeah, you wear it so well
Hey, you wear it so well
All of those stories
Honey, that i know you could tell
Yeah, you wear it so well
And your face hides it so we can't tell
That you knew we would wear it so well
You wear it so well
Yeah darling, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah now baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Hey now darling now, yeah, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
All of those things
That make poets sing
You wear it so well
Yeah, you hide it so well
And all of those pain
That you used to tell
You hide it so well
Can't tell from your face that you knew it so well
Hey, now that you have such a story to tell
Yeah, you got style and grace and you wear it so well
You wear it so well
And you got, you got such a story to tell
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well
Grace and style equals you so well
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well, well, yeah, so well
Yeah, you wear it, wear it, wear it now, wear it now, baby
Yeah, now you wear it so well
And you got such a story to tell
(ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh)
(ooohhh, you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Winner Of This Battle

It's those...
Emotions we must conquer.
Emotions we must conquer.
Emotions we must conquer.

It's those...
Emotions we must conquer.
Emotions we must conquer.
Emotions we must conquer,
With a chasing away.

And...
The winner of this battle,
Doesn't ride on a saddle.
Or wear outfits,
To impress anybody they've got it licked.

The winner of this battle,
Doesn't ride on a saddle.
Or wear outfits,
To impress anybody they've got it licked.

Some do not expose,
Their woes on their sleeves.
With a showing they can be compose,
To a degree.

Although they may struggle,
With many troubles...
People like this don't deny,
They don't seek a ride to hide...
And rush away on alibis.

The winner of this battle,
Doesn't ride on a saddle.
Or wear outfits,
To impress anybody they've got it licked.

The winner of this battle,
Doesn't ride on a saddle.
Or wear outfits,
To impress anybody they've got it licked.

It's those...
Emotions we must conquer.
Emotions we must conquer.
Emotions we must conquer.

And the winner of this of this battle,
Are those...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pretty On The Inside

Slut-kiss girls wont you promise her smack
Is she pretty on the inside
Is she pretty from the back
Slut-kiss girl wont you water her back
Is she pretty on the inside
Baby pretty from the back
Slut-kiss girl well have some rot black strap
Is she ugly on the inside
Baby ugly ugly from the back
My pretty power my pretty power
My pretty power my ugly
Slut-kiss girls wont you promise her smack
Is she pretty on the inside
Is she ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly
Bad boy
Rows and rows of angel hair
And ice cream pencils baby do they care
And fibre yah glass where is she powered that way
Blues and shoes but this isnt ugly
Yah where is it a marriage in a wheel
Will to calls that way
But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone so so many things
Wow hey I made it down
I I i I made it mosh in everyone acid hair
Acid stars youre getting there
Is she high that way
But now its just another show
Your living life as ready go
Its all its all a doll no a doll
Give me a shelf of a whore
Yah now my friends are ugly strange
They shake their heads man
They gave us a trap well
Well send this love as
Rearrange of who of
Baby I lie with pictures now
From riddle love and streets of gold
He says he reach of a candy heart of
I really love it I really dont know
I really dont know I really dont know
I really dont know like I used to live
Yah berry parts and I wow what was it

song performed by Hole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Ugly

Crossed the path then I followed your face
It was hard to believe
It was hard to trace
I saw you today
Seems like I see you everyday
But theres something I figured out bout you
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh yeah
So ugly
Im tellin you strait
So ugly
Dont make a mistake
Cause your ugly
You could bet it on the bank
Say why why
Why would I lie to you
Why would I lie
Why would I lie
Your so ugly
All the time
Ugly
You aint no friend of mine
Cause your ugly
You could bet it on the bank
Say why why
Why would I lie to you
Why would I lie
Why would I lie
When you smile or a frown
Im so tired of you bein around
Engaged in some sexual acts
Well Im just gonna have to tell you all the facts
What could that be about,
Well heres a clue
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh yeah
So ugly
Im tellin you strait
So ugly
Dont make a mistake
Cause your ugly
Im tellin you that
I say why why
Why would I lie to you
Why would I lie
Why would I lie
Your so ugly
All the time
Ugly
You aint no friend of mine
Ugly
You could bet it on the bank

[...] Read more

song performed by Violent Femmes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Young, Dumb & Ugly

We're dangerous dudes, we got bad attitudes
Most of our brain cells are gone
We were born to be bad, you better not make us mad
Or we just might toilet paper your lawn
We got a reputation 'round these parts
We only leave a ten percent tip
Sometimes we don't return our shoping carts
Stay out of our way and don't you give us no lip
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
That's what we are
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
We wear black leather in the hottest weather
You can't imagine the smell
We got three-day stubble, our names spell trouble
T-r-u-b-e-l
Reaisin' hell, bendin' the rules just a little
We're livin' only for thrills
We squeeze our tooothpaste tubes from the middle
And wait until the last minute to pay our telephone bills
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
You better believe it
We're young... young, dumb and ugly
I'll tell you again
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
We're comin' to your town
Yeah, we're young... young, dumb and ugly
We're wild, reckless men, we're on a rampage again
We drive with just one hand on the wheel
Danger's in our soul, we're goin' out of control
Swimmin' right after a big heavy meal
We're there wherever trouble's starting
We're rebels without a clue
We drink milk right from the carton
And keep our library books 'till they're way overdue
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
That's what we are
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
You can't stop us
We're young... we're so young, dumb and ugly
Young, dumb & ugly
We're young... we're young, dumb and ugly
So ugly
Young... dumb... & ugly

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Young, Dumb Ugly

Were dangerous dudes, we got bad attitudes
Most of our brain cells are gone
We were born to be bad, you better not make us mad
Or we just might toilet paper your lawn
We got a reputation round these parts
We only leave a ten percent tip
Sometimes we dont return our shoping carts
Stay out of our way and dont you give us no lip
cause were young... dumb and ugly
Thats what we are
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
We wear black leather in the hottest weather
You cant imagine the smell
We got three-day stubble, our names spell trouble
T-r-u-b-e-l
Reaisin hell, bendin the rules just a little
Were livin only for thrills
We squeeze our tooothpaste tubes from the middle
And wait until the last minute to pay our telephone bills
cause were young... dumb and ugly
You better believe it
Were young... young, dumb and ugly
Ill tell you again
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
Were comin to your town
Yeah, were young... young, dumb and ugly
Were wild, reckless men, were on a rampage again
We drive with just one hand on the wheel
Dangers in our soul, were goin out of control
Swimmin right after a big heavy meal
Were there wherever troubles starting
Were rebels without a clue
We drink milk right from the carton
And keep our library books till theyre way overdue
cause were young... dumb and ugly
Thats what we are
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
You cant stop us
Were young... were so young, dumb and ugly
Young, dumb & ugly
Were young... were young, dumb and ugly
So ugly
Young... dumb... & ugly

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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When Saturday Comes

Wind me up and see what I can do for you
Switch me on, I'd do anything you want me to
Let me go and I come ticking like a timebomb
Just call my name and I come running like a marathon
The magic and the mystery
Out here on this field of dreams
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
You got to wear your heart on your sleeve
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
The winner takes it all
So don't let me down, don't you let me down
Sweat and blood, You know I couldn't give y'any of this
Pain and pride, there ain't no room for second best
Clock strikes three and it's time to be the hero
D'you want to be a Blade, it's a feeling that you'll never know
You've got to fight it tooth and nail
Out here on this Battlefield
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
You got to wear your heart on your sleeve
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
The winner takes it all
So don't let me down, don't you let me down
The magic and the mystery
Out here on this field of dreams
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
You got to wear your heart on your sleeve
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
You got to wear your heart
You got to wear your heart
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
You got to wear your heart on your sleeve
When Saturday comes
Nothing else matters to me
When Saturday comes
You got to wear your heart
You got to wear your heart

[...] Read more

song performed by Def Leppard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hang On To Your Emotions

When your imagination has too much to say
When the chill of the night meets the sweat of the day
And you have trouble understanding what other people have to say
Youd better
Hang on to your emotions, hang on to your emotions
When a demagogue inside your head has taken charge
And by default what you say or do is criticized
And this litany of failures is recited a thousand times
Youd better
Hang on to your emotions, hang on to your emotions
Could it be youve never felt like that
That your minds a cage - inside the cage a cat
That spits and scratches all it can get at
And thats you, and your emotions
Could it be youve never felt like that
Your minds a cage - inside the cage a rat
Rabidly trying to get it, you
And your emotions, you and your emotions
When your imagination has too much to say
When that facile voice inside your head says give your life away
You might think to ask - how it got that way
What books it has read - that make it that way
And where it got the right - to speak to anyone that way
Youd better
Hold on to your emotions, hold on to your emotions
When a night citys breeze blows across the room
And a 5 am moon and sun start their swoon
You hear your lovers breath
And not a moment too soon
You get to
Release all your emotions, you get to
Let go of your emotions, and now
Release all your emotions, youd better
Let go of your emotions
Release, I wanna let go
I wanna release, now

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chevy-Chase

The Perse owt off Northombarlonde,
And a vowe to God mayd he
That he wold hunte in the mowntayns
Off Chyviat within days thre,
In the magger of doughte Dogles,
And all that ever with him be.

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat
He sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away:
'Be my feth,' sayd the doughteti Doglas agayn,
'I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may.

Then the Perse owt off Banborowe cam,
With him a myghtee meany,
With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and bone;
The wear chosen owt of shyars thre.

This begane on a Monday at morn,
In Cheviat the hyllys so he;
They chylde may rue that ys un-born,
It wos the mor pitte.

The dryvars thorowe the woodes went,
For to reas the dear;
Bomen byckarte uppone the bent
With ther browd aros cleare.

Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went,
On every syde shear;
Greahondes thorowe the grevis glent,
For to kyll thear dear.

This began in Chyviat the hyls abone,
yerly on a Monnyn-day;
Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.

The blewe a mort uppone the bent,
The semblyde on sydis shear;
To the quyrry then the Perse went,
To se the bryttlynge off the deare.

He sayd, 'It was the Doglas promys
This day to met me hear;
But I wyste he wolde faylle, verament;'
A great oth the Perse swear.

At the laste a squyar off Northomberlonde
Lokyde at his hand full ny;
He was war a the doughetie Doglas commynge,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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It Is Because Of The Media

'The media is the reason for our problems.
The media is the reason for our dysfunctions.
The media is the reason why there is conflict.
The media is the reason our kids are the way they are.
The media is the reason for racism and division.
The media is the reason why the economy is perceived,
To be knocking on death's door.
And it is because of the media our great country,
Has fallen into dire straits and has less educated citizens! '

That's a wrap, Sarah.
Very well done.
Now we do have you scheduled for that magazine shoot.
With you standing on the pier in common street clothes.
Very representative of the people.
As well as very clever.

Now...
Should we re-schedule the talk show for next week?
Or...
Should we keep it and move your appearance for the fund-raiser?
Since your announcement...
We have been overflooded with requests.

'What are the ratings for the talk show?
I want to know their demographics.
Also...
Do not schedule any of my activities around the playoffs.
Last year PBS refused to carry my message!
And it is important that my followers know how the media is used,
To manipulate their thinking process.

And that is the reason my campaign is important.
These are issues that must be prioritized...
And addressed!
IF we are going to move forward as a nation!
And get out of this mess!

Here are my questions to be asked,
By those selected reporters.
I need to freshen up before the press conference begins.
Make sure all cameras are placed behind,
Those who flew in from Hollywood.
They are filming a documentary...
To be used to solicit potential donors.
And I need as much as I can get,
To offset my travel expenses.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Comehere With the Quick Fix

They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.

They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.

People,
Hurting from a pride deep inside...
And found to bitter bite!
And people wanting,
Love.
And more love...
To share and keep around at night.

They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.

They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.

Gotta-git-a-quick-fix-of it...
Your love.
I can't resist it when its sittin' there!
Are you gonna come and get it?
Or do you want this good stuff delivered to you...
Wet and bare!

Telling one another,
This is not a love affair.
But a fairytale that has come true.
I hope I'm getting this exclusively.
This is what I want with you,
And what I wish to do.

Comehere!

Gotta-git-a-quick-fix-of it...
Your love.
Gotta-git-a-quick-fix,
It just hit me!
On my head like a ton of bricks!
Gotta-git-a-quick-fix-of it...
Your love.

Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Trip Too Quick To Insult and Assault

You trip too quick to get your results.
You trip too quick to insult and assault,
Those you don't know...
Who haven't shown,
Reason why you choose to deceive.

You trip too quick to sit and to sulk.
You trip too quick to blame and to fault,
Others unaware...
What has been done to you.
And you don't care...
Going through the act that you do.

You trip too quick to get your results.
Yes you do.
You trip too quick to insult and assault,
Just to prove...
To,
Those you don't know...
Who haven't shown,
Reason why you choose to deceive.
Then you can't believe why they come back,
To mistreat you!

You trip too quick to get your results.
Yes you do.
You trip too quick to insult and assault,
Just to prove...
To,
Those you don't know...
Who haven't shown,
Reason why you choose to deceive.

You trip too quick to get your results.
And...
You trip too quick to insult and assault.
And...
You trip too quick to get your results.
And...
You trip too quick to insult and assault.
You trip too quick to get your results.
You trip too quick to insult and assault.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My lifelong friend

[Sri Lanka raids office of pro-opposition news websites
Posted by Karthiyayini on June 30,2012 in Exclusive, Headlines, News, Sri Lanka · 0 Comments
Colombo, June 30 (TruthDive) : Media freedom has always been a huge concern in Sri Lanka. The country shows its ugly face yet again by showcasing it as one of the world's most dangerous countries for journalists.
An independently running and pro-opposition office of two news websites have been raided by Sri Lankan Police. The Police have arrested nine workers including the editor of one of the websites, searched the premises for about three hours on Friday and seized computers and documents.
A statement from government stated that the police officers had acted on a court order, searched and sealed off the office on Friday. The websites were said to be publishing flawed information and had put a ‘blot on Sri Lanka's image.'
The Opposition United National Party member Mangala Samaraweera said that the office had operated two websites - www.srilankamirror.com and www.srilankaxnews.com that belong to the party. He added that the nine arrested employees were released on bail after an appearance before a magistrate.
Samaraweera said that Friday's raid had been initiated as his party's website had uncovered corruption and other unlawful activity by the government.
Gnanasiri Kottigoda, who heads Sri Lanka Working Journalists Association, stated that the police action showed that the government has not ceased to harass and intimidate independent media institutions and journalists in Sri Lanka. He also opined that it is a step towards silencing the independent media groups in Sri Lanka.
The Committee to Protect Journalists said, in the year 2010, Sri Lanka was ranked as the fourth most dangerous country for journalists. Since the beginning of year 2006, at least 14 Sri Lankan media employees were said to have been killed, according to Amnesty International.
www.srilankamirror.com and four other websites were blocked by authorities last year over so-called character assassination, and the action is still in effect for four others.
www.srilankamirror.com went on to file a case in the Supreme Court after which the Telecommunication Regulatory Authority agreed to unblock the website on condition that it would not provide links to blocked or unregistered sites. Several media rights groups and other countries, including the United States had severely criticized the blocking of the websites by the Sri Lankan government.
To top it all, attacks on media men and media institutions either fail to get properly investigated or blocked, according to Reporters without Borders.]

I was born with you and since in the cradle
We crawled together.
It's not a bed of roses,
My bare-feet very familiar with the thorny painful streets.
Sometimes you hide in my eyes as tears
And often remain as a hug in my weeping heart.
You too starved in my difficult times
And you never betray me that's certain as death.
I realized that you never smile but I embrace you
From the bottom of my heart
And you are my lifelong friend, Sorrow!

nimal dunuhinga

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.

Great Alexander was wise Philips son,
He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;
The cruel proud Olympias was his Mother,
She to Epirus warlike King was daughter.
This Prince (his father by Pausanias slain)
The twenty first of's age began to reign.
Great were the Gifts of nature which he had,
His education much to those did adde:
By art and nature both he was made fit,
To 'complish that which long before was writ.
The very day of his Nativity
To ground was burnt Dianaes Temple high:
An Omen to their near approaching woe,
Whose glory to the earth this king did throw.
His Rule to Greece he scorn'd should be confin'd,
The Universe scarce bound his proud vast mind.
This is the He-Goat which from Grecia came,
That ran in Choler on the Persian Ram,
That brake his horns, that threw him on the ground
To save him from his might no man was found:
Philip on this great Conquest had an eye,
But death did terminate those thoughts so high.
The Greeks had chose him Captain General,
Which honour to his Son did now befall.
(For as Worlds Monarch now we speak not on,
But as the King of little Macedon)
Restless both day and night his heart then was,
His high resolves which way to bring to pass;
Yet for a while in Greece is forc'd to stay,
Which makes each moment seem more then a day.
Thebes and stiff Athens both 'gainst him rebel,
Their mutinies by valour doth he quell.
This done against both right and natures Laws,
His kinsmen put to death, who gave no cause;
That no rebellion in in his absence be,
Nor making Title unto Sovereignty.
And all whom he suspects or fears will climbe,
Now taste of death least they deserv'd in time,
Nor wonder is t if he in blood begin,
For Cruelty was his parental sin,
Thus eased now of troubles and of fears,
Next spring his course to Asia he steers;
Leavs Sage Antipater, at home to sway,
And through the Hellispont his Ships made way.
Coming to Land, his dart on shore he throws,
Then with alacrity he after goes;
And with a bount'ous heart and courage brave,
His little wealth among his Souldiers gave.
And being ask'd what for himself was left,
Reply'd, enough, sith only hope he kept.

[...] Read more

poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Clean Up Your Own Backyard

(words & music by b. strange - s. davis)
Back porch preacher preaching at me
Acting like he wrote the golden rules
Shaking his fist and speeching at me
Shouting from his soap box like a fool
Come sunday morning hes lying in bed
With his eye all red, with the wine in his head
Wishing he was dead when he oughta be
Heading for sunday school
Clean up your own backyard
Oh dont you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
Drugstore cowboy criticizing
Acting like hes better than you and me
Standing on the sidewalk supervising
Telling everybody how they ought to be
Come closing time most every night
He locks up tight and out go the lights
And he ducks out of sight and he cheats on his wife
With his employee
Clean up your own backyard
Oh dont you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
Armchair quarterbacks always moanin
Second guessing people all day long
Pushing, fooling and hanging on in
Always messing where they dont belong
When you get right down to the nitty-gritty
Isnt it a pity that in this big city
Not a one alittle bitty manll admit
He could have been a little bit wrong
Clean up your own backyard
Oh dont you hand me, dont you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Ugly Truth

The ugly truth, the shadow that wonders alone,
It’s the dark space in the corner of the room where love isn’t shown,
The ignored people whose personality is ignored and unknown,
It’s the face in the mirror that cracks on sight,
The same mirror where society reflects beauty and glamour where self loathing ignites,
Anorexia, plastic surgeries, implants, anabolic steroids, self destruction, and despite,
The natural beauty of humankind destroyed by artificial cosmetics,
Similar to drugs that induces the nonexistent pain from anesthetics,
It’s the poisonous salt induced in self healing known as tartar emetic,
Invisible, pain underlined the surface to project beauty from self destruction inside to route the beauty out,
But the ugly truth is, cosmetics is the bud in plants that doesn’t sprout,
It’s the mirror that humanity looks into every day with doubt,
The doubt that induces perfection from the outside,
It’s the disease inducing shallow emotions from humans worldwide,
Victimized is the people who will never know the pleasure of someday being a groom or bride,
It’s that same cracked mirror that reflects self loathing and the tears we cry,
It’s the anxiety induced from outside the mirror in the room where in the corner we hide,
The smile that is looked as a broken masterpiece from the finest art,
The ugly truth, where beauty from inside the heart is ignored from the start,
It’s the puzzle of human life, where natural beauty of personality is ripped apart,
Embarrassed to be seen by others all they see is broken reflection of self,
In a glass of bottled that they store on the shelf,
Even through glass the reflection stands still where they can see themselves,
Through the smile beyond the face it’s a silent weep of pain and fear,
From the eyes to their ears every night they shed bloody tears,
Not the typical blood made of red matter, it’s the tears bottled up in emotion that’s crystal clear,
The self loathing from the inability to find love, the cause when the end draws near,
Can’t escape the matrix of cosmetic pain, every waking minute outside with others they experience fear,
Unable to identify how to look human, Halloween is every day,
Awaking out of a dream to be perfect, the costume of that beautiful angel in the dream they put on with a closed mind they display,
Where the reality results in a drought in from mixing a blowtorch and hair spray,
The event that causes a ring of fire around the Earth burning everything in sight,
The manifest of when the walls close in, but the mirror stands still cracked but upright,
A masquerade ruined by the drought caused by spite,
The parade rained on by the precipitation of lightning and fire combined,
But forever the broken mirror inside the closing rings stands inclined,
The broken cracks in the same shape as the lightning in the night,
The ugly truth, bottled emotion correlated with the mirror that’s upright
Self esteem is the iron grip that can twist off the top of the bottle,
We dig down deep and can’t project the good inside even with momentum in full throttle,
Even still the personality inside is covered by a towel,
Where the ugly truth lies within an open mind,
The mirror will set fire forever within due time,
And the ugly truth through personality will turn beautiful and shine,
The broken cracked mirror will rebuild itself into a reflection clear like waters in the most beautiful stream,
Our mouths open with the most beautiful voice that we sing,
As opposed to opening the bottle of emotion through hoarse screams,
The same waters that carries the world once set fire moves upstream,
Something as an epiphany is what it seems,
Beauty projected through inner beauty with self esteem it brings,

[...] Read more

poem by Kurt Kacich
Added by Poetry Lover
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