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For us Australians, Singapore also represents sacred soil. Almost 2000 Australians died here in the defense of your island country and our neighborhood.

quote by Michael Jeffery
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Na Tian Piet's Sha'er Of The Late Sultan Abu Bakar Of Johor

In the name of God, let his word begin:
Praise be to God, let praises clear ring;
May our Lord, Jesus Christ's[8] blessings
Guide my pen through these poetizings!

This sha'er is an entirely new composition
Composed by myself, no fear of imitation.
It's Allah's name, I will keep calling out
While creating this poem to avoid confusion.

This story I'm relating at the present moment
I copy not, nor is it by other hands wrought;
Nothing whatsoever is here laid out
That hereunder is not clearly put forth.

Not that I am able to create with much ease,
To all that's to come I'm yet not accustomed;
Why, this sha'er at this time is being composed
Only to console my heart which is heavily laden.

I'm a peranakan[9], of Chinese origin,
Hardly perfect in character and mind;
I find much that I can not comprehend,
I'm not a man given to much wisdom.

Na Tian Piet[10] is what I go by name
I have in the past composed stories and poems;
Even when explained to - most stupid I remain
The more I keep talking the less I understand.

I was born in times gone by
In the country known as Bencoolen[11];
Indeed, I am more than stupid:
Ashamed am I composing this lay.

Twenty-four years have gone by
Since I moved to the island of Singapore;
My wife and children accompanied me
To Singapore, a most lovely country.

I stayed in Riau[12] for some time
Together with my wife and children;
Two full years in Riau territory,
Back to Singapore my legs carried me.

At the time when Acheh[13] was waging war
I went there with goods to trade,
I managed to sell them at exhorbitant prices:
Great indeed were the profits I made.

[...] Read more

poem by T. Wignesan
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Adrienne Vittadini

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Franks 2000 Tv

Risin above the city, blocking out the noonday sun
It dwarfs the mighty redwoods and it towers over everyone
I still remember when that delivery truck came down our block
What a lucky guy, I hear he got the last one in stock
And the neighbors are just green
They say, thats the biggest screen weve ever seen!
Its franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everbody come and see(franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Thats franks remote control, you can look, but dont touch it, please
cause franks the one in charge and he decides what everybody sees
The pictures crystal clear and everything is magnified
Robert deniros mole has got to be ten feet wide
Everybody in the town
Can hear those 90,000 watts of dolby sound
And Im mighty proud to say
Now I can watch the simpsons from thirty blocks away
On franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Im gonna get one of my own real soon
Its like having a drive-in movie in your own living room
Whoa, hey now... hey now na na na now
Hey now... hey now na na now
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Got a two year warranty on parts and labor
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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Whose Country Is This?

Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Brightly Singapore

The deafening roars
Promising faces chanting ‘Singapore, Singapore, Singapore'
Was the acute scene
At the National Stadium where matches to be seen
Is to crown the soccer kingpin
Of South East Asia sovereign
Singapore has done it two times in a row
And three times ever since
A great success for a small nation though

Driving through Pan Island Expressway
Passing by the awesome Marina Bay
Where the bright sun shines on the skyway
Where the airliners flying pass all the way
Right to the world renowned Changi Airport
Crossing above world’s busiest seaport

From the sea
You could see
The brightly surprising skylines
Of Central Business District
Underneath is Mass Rapid Transit Line
Traveling below the Singapore riverbed is poetic
Emerging at Suntec City is ecstatic
Docking at the Esplanade twin ‘Durian’ domes is magnetic
Singapore, Singapore, Singapore
A little red dot on the map
A country you should explore
And learn all the craps
Of being the world’s best

Nanyang Technology
And National University
Are the world’s tops 20
Labor force and school’s education
Are the world’s supreme
Housing and transportation
Are the world’s tops of the cream
Government administration
And financial management
Are the world’s best institutions

Father of Singapore
Lee Kuan Yew
Is the world’s highly regarded
Who has transformed the city-state
Becomes a first world country
His achievements were embedded
No doubt he dictates
But the progress was uncontrary

[...] Read more

poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Trash Bag

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1 bag cement mixers
1920s clutch bag
1.5 oz bag reg chips
1 bag popcorn serving size
2000 saturn sl air bag light
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306 leather tour sissy bag

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Neighborhood Bully

Well, the neighborhood bully, hes just one man,
His enemies say hes on their land.
They got him outnumbered about a million to one,
He got no place to escape to, no place to run.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
The neighborhood bully just lives to survive,
Hes criticized and condemned for being alive.
Hes not supposed to fight back, hes supposed to have thick skin,
Hes supposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
The neighborhood bully been driven out of every land,
Hes wandered the earth an exiled man.
Seen his family scattered, his people hounded and torn,
Hes always on trial for just being born.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Well, he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized,
Old women condemned him, said he should apologize.
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad.
The bombs were meant for him.
He was supposed to feel bad.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim
That hell live by the rules that the world makes for him,
cause theres a noose at his neck and a gun at his back
And a license to kill him is given out to every maniac.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
He got no allies to really speak of.
What he gets he must pay for, he dont get it out of love.
He buys obsolete weapons and he wont be denied
But no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Well, hes surrounded by pacifists who all want peace,
They pray for it nightly that the bloodshed must cease.
Now, they wouldnt hurt a fly.
To hurt one they would weep.
They lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Every empire thats enslaved him is gone,
Egypt and rome, even the great babylon.
Hes made a garden of paradise in the desert sand,
In bed with nobody, under no ones command.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Now his holiest books have been trampled upon,
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on.
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth,
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Whats anybody indebted to him for?
Nothin, they say.
He just likes to cause war.

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

[...] Read more

poem by Virgil
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Spies

Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, wheres my j?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, wheres my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!
Spies are all around me, spies in every county
Spies, my heads are bounty
Snipers in the air
The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch dont like richters bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...
Generation x is the title they use
When I skate down mackenzie avenue.
Everybody that I see is lookin at me like a vandal
Maybe cause Im (wheelin? ) in some dickies and some sandals
Man, I know what you mean when you talk about the neighborhood
The old folks always sayin that we aint no good
Talkin to my pops about my music
Sayin we should keep it down and not abuse it
Man, I dont sweat those old ass bastards.
I just sit on the curb and with my herb and get plastered
They work all day long, they seem so bored
I think their ass should reside in the county morgue
Theyre postin up signs, man I think they should chill
Talkin if I dont call the cops then my neighbor will
Cause from city to city its all the same.
The neighborhood watch is a big ass gang
Sick and tired the way they walk,
Sick and tired the way they talk
Sick and tired the things they say, sick and tired. wheres my j?
Sick and tired, same old song, sick and tired wheres my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!
Spies are all around me, spies in every county
Spies, my heads are bounty
Snipers in the air
The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch dont like richters bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I think theyre walkin towards me, I light another...
Every night when the street lights came on
We used to gather round, take rips from that bong.
Cause john wayne country, republican block
A bunch of overweight housewives that wanna be cops.
Cook and clean, the life of slave
Take kottonmouths advice and call jenny craig
Its not in my control, when we were in school
Wanna see us livin life like the golden rule

[...] Read more

song performed by Kottonmouth Kings
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.

He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2

ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
“Great queen, what you command me to relate
Renews the sad remembrance of our fate:
An empire from its old foundations rent, 5
And ev’ry woe the Trojans underwent;
A peopled city made a desart place;
All that I saw, and part of which I was:
Not ev’n the hardest of our foes could hear,
Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear. 10
And now the latter watch of wasting night,
And setting stars, to kindly rest invite;
But, since you take such int’rest in our woe,
And Troy’s disastrous end desire to know,
I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell 15
What in our last and fatal night befell.
“By destiny compell’d, and in despair,
The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war,
And by Minerva’s aid a fabric rear’d,
Which like a steed of monstrous height appear’d: 20
The sides were plank’d with pine; they feign’d it made
For their return, and this the vow they paid.
Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side
Selected numbers of their soldiers hide:
With inward arms the dire machine they load, 25
And iron bowels stuff the dark abode.
In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle
(While Fortune did on Priam’s empire smile)
Renown’d for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay,
Where ships expos’d to wind and weather lay. 30
There was their fleet conceal’d. We thought, for Greece
Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release.
The Trojans, coop’d within their walls so long,
Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng,
Like swarming bees, and with delight survey 35
The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay:
The quarters of the sev’ral chiefs they show’d;
Here Phœnix, here Achilles, made abode;
Here join’d the battles; there the navy rode.
Part on the pile their wond’ring eyes employ: 40
The pile by Pallas rais’d to ruin Troy.
Thymoetes first (’t is doubtful whether hir’d,
Or so the Trojan destiny requir’d)
Mov’d that the ramparts might be broken down,
To lodge the monster fabric in the town. 45
But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind,
The fatal present to the flames designed,
Or to the wat’ry deep; at least to bore
The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore.
The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Island Girl

Ray oh ah ha
Ray oh ah ha
Radio ah ha
You know
Ray oh ah ha
Radio ah
I'm gonna make her mine
Bom bom bom ba ba bom bom bom bom
I went to trinidad i didn't
Know just what i had 'til i
Found her
She wears a pretty smile
That compliments her shapely
Style and i found her
Island girl she's oh so pretty
Island girl i like her plenty
Island girl i'm gonna make her mine
Island girl she makes me happy
Island girl she kinda sassy
Island girl i'm gonna make her mine
Everybody's got an island fantasy
For me it's like a caribbean odyssey
All the people live and love there by the sea
Near the sparkling wather 'neath the coco-palm tree
Island girl she make me happy
Island girl she kinda sassy
Island girl won't you show me the way
She's fine so fine all mine
She's so good to me
And i know (i know) our love (or love) so free (so free)
That it was meant to be
Island girl she make me happy
Island girl she kinda sassy
Island girl won't you show me the way
She's a real beauty from the caribbean
Long dark hair flowin' in the breeze
She's the kinda beauty makes you come alive and
We can live together for eternity
Every now and then i get this silly grin
When i'm there in her company
She says i'm crazy that i'm also very lazy
I know she loves me
Island girl she make me happy
Island girl she kinda sassy
Island girl won't you show me the way
Island girl won't you show me the way
Island girl won't you show me the way

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Island Of Love (Love Ballad) :

The ferry crossed the water.
The ferry crossed the sea.
The ferry crossed to the island.
To the island, the island of love.

On the island of love.
There are songbirds above.
On the island of love.
They sing their song.
They sing a song that songbirds sing.
On the island, the island of love.

The ferry crossed the water.
The ferry crossed the sea.
The ferry crossed to the island.
To the island, the island of love.

On the island of love.
There are lovers ashore.
On the island of love.
There's love at your door.
There's love on the shore.
There are songbirds above.
On the island, the island of love.

So much love in the air.
So much love everywhere.
Love might knock at your door.
You might come ashore.
To the island, the island of love.

You might stay on the island of love..

Love Ballad By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1984,2009..
ALL rights reserved..

poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Cyder: Book I

-- -- Honos erit huic quoq; Pomo? Virg.

What Soil the Apple loves, what Care is due
To Orchats, timeliest when to press the Fruits,
Thy Gift, Pomona, in Miltonian Verse
Adventrous I presume to sing; of Verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: But my Native Soil
Invites me, and the Theme as yet unsung.

Ye Ariconian Knights, and fairest Dames,
To whom propitious Heav'n these Blessings grants,
Attend my Layes; nor hence disdain to learn,
How Nature's Gifts may be improv'd by Art.

And thou, O Mostyn, whose Benevolence,
And Candor, oft experienc'd, Me vouchsaf'd
To knit in Friendship, growing still with Years,
Accept this Pledge of Gratitude and Love.
May it a lasting Monument remain
Of dear Respect; that, when this Body frail
Is moulder'd into Dust, and I become
As I had never been, late Times may know
I once was blest in such a matchless Friend.

Who-e'er expects his lab'ring Trees shou'd bend
With Fruitage, and a kindly Harvest yield,
Be this his first Concern; to find a Tract
Impervious to the Winds, begirt with Hills,
That intercept the Hyperborean Blasts
Tempestuous, and cold Eurus nipping Force,
Noxious to feeble Buds: But to the West
Let him free Entrance grant, let Zephyrs bland
Administer their tepid genial Airs;
Naught fear he from the West, whose gentle Warmth
Discloses well the Earth's all-teeming Womb,
Invigorating tender Seeds; whose Breath
Nurtures the Orange, and the Citron Groves,
Hesperian Fruits, and wafts their Odours sweet
Wide thro' the Air, and distant Shores perfumes.
Nor only do the Hills exclude the Winds:
But, when the blackning Clouds in sprinkling Show'rs
Distill, from the high Summits down the Rain
Runs trickling; with the fertile Moisture chear'd,
The Orchats smile; joyous the Farmers see
Their thriving Plants, and bless the heav'nly Dew.

Next, let the Planter, with Discretion meet,
The Force and Genius of each Soil explore;
To what adapted, what it shuns averse:

[...] Read more

poem by John Arthur Phillips
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Georgic 2

Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;
Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,
The forest's young plantations and the fruit
Of slow-maturing olive. Hither haste,
O Father of the wine-press; all things here
Teem with the bounties of thy hand; for thee
With viny autumn laden blooms the field,
And foams the vintage high with brimming vats;
Hither, O Father of the wine-press, come,
And stripped of buskin stain thy bared limbs
In the new must with me.
First, nature's law
For generating trees is manifold;
For some of their own force spontaneous spring,
No hand of man compelling, and possess
The plains and river-windings far and wide,
As pliant osier and the bending broom,
Poplar, and willows in wan companies
With green leaf glimmering gray; and some there be
From chance-dropped seed that rear them, as the tall
Chestnuts, and, mightiest of the branching wood,
Jove's Aesculus, and oaks, oracular
Deemed by the Greeks of old. With some sprouts forth
A forest of dense suckers from the root,
As elms and cherries; so, too, a pigmy plant,
Beneath its mother's mighty shade upshoots
The bay-tree of Parnassus. Such the modes
Nature imparted first; hence all the race
Of forest-trees and shrubs and sacred groves
Springs into verdure.
Other means there are,
Which use by method for itself acquired.
One, sliving suckers from the tender frame
Of the tree-mother, plants them in the trench;
One buries the bare stumps within his field,
Truncheons cleft four-wise, or sharp-pointed stakes;
Some forest-trees the layer's bent arch await,
And slips yet quick within the parent-soil;
No root need others, nor doth the pruner's hand
Shrink to restore the topmost shoot to earth
That gave it being. Nay, marvellous to tell,
Lopped of its limbs, the olive, a mere stock,
Still thrusts its root out from the sapless wood,
And oft the branches of one kind we see
Change to another's with no loss to rue,
Pear-tree transformed the ingrafted apple yield,
And stony cornels on the plum-tree blush.
Come then, and learn what tilth to each belongs
According to their kinds, ye husbandmen,
And tame with culture the wild fruits, lest earth

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poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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athem for the year 2000

We are the youth
We'll take your fascism away
We are the youth
Apologise for another day
We are the youth
And politicians are so sure
We are the youth
And we are knocking on death's door
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short
We'll make it up to you
in the year 2000 with...

Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short

We'll make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000
Make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000 with you

Never knew we were living in a world
With a world that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
World who cares at all

We'll make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000

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song performed by Silverchair from neon ballroom
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

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poem by Tom Zart
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David

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.

If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.

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poem by Thomas Parnell
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2000 Miles

Theres something I need to say
Im not sad youre gone away no way
Wont be calling information
Or waiting at the railway station
You walked out of my front door
I wasnt then but now Im sure
I need to be at least 2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
Had to get me to the church on time
To say that silly I do I do nursery rhyme
Youve been bitching at me for awhile
Say hey now baby dont you cramp my style
Dont go beating me like that
Im glad I wont be coming back
I need to be at least 2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you

song performed by Erasure
Added by Lucian Velea
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