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I like to think of myself as being fashion-conscious without being a slave to fashion.

quote by Annni-Frid Lyngstad
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High Fashion

I know a sexy little girl
She's never in the low class world
This woman is all the way vogue
High Fashion is where her money goes
She dines at Le Dome up on the strip
Cheap liquor never touches her lips
Her brandy's imported every week
No problem, 7,000 easy
High Fashion is where her money goes
High Fashion - This girl is all the way vogue
She's never in the low class world
High Fashion - Stuck up little rich girl
High Fashion
High Fashion, yeah
I met her dancin' at Le Dome
I offered dinner at my home
She said no, all of her friends laughed
Funny how the laughin' stopped when I flashed all the cash I had
(I'm talkin') $1900 is 2 much cash 2 hold
One of my boys had 2 carry half, now honey U know that's bold
Wait a minute
She had the nerve 2 ask what kinda car I had
"Honey, I'm ridin' in back of a Rolls Royce limo custom-painted plaid!"
High Fashion is where my money goes
High Fashion - Honey, I'm all the way vogue
I'm never in the low class world
High Fashion - And I just love little rich girls
(High Fashion) High Fashion (High Fashion)
Hot Station - I took the child 2 my crib
Donation - Do U take or do U give?
She took one look at the swimmin' pool
I said "I'll donate" - We were 2 swimmin' fools
High Fashion is where our money goes
High Fashion - All the way vogue
We're never in the low class world
High Fashion - Don't be a little stuck up rich girl
All the way vogue {x2}
I'm all the way vogue
Yeah, yeah
(High Fashion) {repeats in BG}
Dinner at Le Dome
Little girl
Money man
I'm the money man
Money man {x2}
High Fashion {x4}
Ohhhhh
(High Fashion) {x2

song performed by Prince
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Is She Conscious

Is she conscious
Is she really wide awake?
Is she conscious
Of her beaatiful mistake?
Is she conscious
As she moves among the crowd?
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Is she asleep or just afloat?
Is she conscious
Of the letter that she wrote?
Is she conscious
Of the music in her ears?
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
As she moves across the room?
Is she conscious
Of the weeping of the moon?
Is she conscious
As she leaves the door ajar?
Is she conscious
As she gets into the car?
I dont even wanna say her name
I dont even wanna say her name
Thats all
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
Thats all
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Of the chauffeur as he drives?
Is she conscious
As the ambulance arrives?

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Is She Conscious

Is she conscious
Is she really wide awake?
Is she conscious
Of her beaatiful mistake?
Is she conscious
As she moves among the crowd?
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Is she asleep or just afloat?
Is she conscious
Of the letter that she wrote?
Is she conscious
Of the music in her ears?
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
As she moves across the room?
Is she conscious
Of the weeping of the moon?
Is she conscious
As she leaves the door ajar?
Is she conscious
As she gets into the car?
I dont even wanna say her name
I dont even wanna say her name
Thats all
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
Thats all
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Of the chauffeur as he drives?
Is she conscious
As the ambulance arrives?

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fashion

Theres a brand new dance but I dont know its name
That people from bad homes do again and again
Its big and its bland full of tension and fear
They do it over there but we dont do it here
Fashion! turn to the left
Fashion! turn to the right
Oooh, fashion!
We are the goon squad and were coming to town
Beep-beep
Beep-beep
Listen to me - dont listen to me
Talk to me - dont talk to me
Dance with me - dont dance with me, no
Beep-beep
Theres a brand new talk, but its not very clear
Oh bop
That people from good homes are talking this year
Oh bop, fashion
Its loud and tasteless and Ive heard it before
Oh bop
You shout it while youre dancing on the ole dance
Floor
Oh bop, fashion
Fashion! turn to the left
Fashion! right
Fashion!
We are the goon squad and were coming to town
Beep-beep
Beep-beep
Listen to me - dont listen to me
Talk to me - dont talk to me
Dance with me - dont dance with me, no
Beep-beep
Beep-beep
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
La-la la la la la la-la
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
La-la la la la la la-la
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
La-la la la la la la-la
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
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Amusing Trial, in Which a Yankee Lawyer Rendered a Just Verdict.

A Slave sold at Auction.
A time there was, when no one thought
It sin, to hold a slave he'd bought,
And of his strength have the command,
As much as of his house and land.
A Yankee Lawyer long had kept
A negro-man with whom he slept.

And ate, and Sabbath day,
He half the time from church would stay;
When Cuff his master's garments wore.—
'Twas strange you say, but he was poor;
And though he cared not for Cuff's soul,
Yet such the times, that on the whole,

'Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, slavery, thou art a bitter draught.'—Sterne.
His slave must to the meeting go,
If 'twas for nothing but a show.
They lived on thus for several years—
One would not think, that many tears
Would fall from off that shining face,
So sleek and smooth, or he would trace

Note.—In some parts of the country, slaves are scantily fed, while their masters live in luxury.
Note.—In some parts of the country, slaves are scantily fed, while their masters live in luxury.
The chain which bound, or wish to break,
But choose to stay for his own sake,
Where he so well was clothed and fed,
And shared the lawyer's food and bed,
So well contented he might be,
He'd hardly know but he was free,

Fetters formerly used by the slave traders, to confine the ankles of their victims. The editor has seen some that were actually used by Rhode Island traders.
Fetters formerly used by the slave traders, to confine the ankles of their victims. The editor has seen some that were actually used by Rhode Island traders.
But make the fetters of pure gold.
They're hateful still, they gall, they hold,
And if the pill is sugared o'er,
'Tis still as bitter as before.
Cuff ponder'd much, but did not know,
If he his master left to go,

And seek his fortune, he could find
Another master half so kind,
And who would give so large a share
Of the small pittance he could spare,
And every privilege could grant,
Which he could need or ever want;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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The New Inner-City Slave Plantation

The now-a-day slave or labor force
The ruling-class determines the course
The political master’s pastor contorts
Politics and policy aborts

The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation

Work like a blind jackass
Support and finance the ruling class
Being bi-partisan-just a mask
Cultured career criminals civilizing crass

The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation

The political engineers of The Greater Good own
The inner city war-zone
The psychotropic drug sets the tone
Slavery as the new world order is the throne

The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation

Multi-tasking a labor saving device
Freedom of movement has no right
Monopolized government enslaved all might
The inner city slave- plantation private and prime
Real estate blight

The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation

The thirteenth amendment of the constitution
On the inner city slave-plantation no social, no economical,
No educational, no political absolution

On the inner city slave-plantation, indentured servants,
Chattel slaves, still considered Black Gold
By the God Fearing slave codes used to control

The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation

On the new inner city slave-plantation
The American Flag can not wave
Even Democracy is revered as a Black Slave

poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Not My Slave

With sadness in my heart and joy in my mind
I thought about the ghost that we left behind.
With everyone around telling us what to do
With deafening sound whisper I love you.
The fire in your eyes-- may it never go out.
The sweetness of your tears make it feel like night.
I see no escape from the roles we always play
What do we have to prove on this judgement day
Youre missing the whole point-- youre not my little pet
Dont throw away your life-- the games not over yet
I do not own your soul--dont want you in a cage
I only want your heart to find a special place
Youre mine now but youre not my sister
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine but youre not my child
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
With sadness in my heart and clounds in my head
I thought about us both and the lives we led.
The pages on a book and pictures on a screen
We shape ourselves like clay from someone elses dream.
One second you are cast just like stones at my feet
But I am not a king please dont worship me.
With everyone around telling us what to do
With deafening sound whisper I love you.
Youre missing the whole point-- youre not my little pet
Dont throw away your life-- the games not over yet
I do not own your soul--dont want you in a cage
I only want your heart to find a special place
Youre mine now but youre not my sister
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine but youre not my child
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine but youre not my sister
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine but youre not my child
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine now but youre not my slave
Youre mine now but youre not my slave

song performed by Oingo Boingo
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Slave 2 The System

Slave) {repeat in song}
Slave, yeah {x2}
Slave 2 the system here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
The only penthouse I can count on's a big black ball and chain
Slave 2 the system, the future's all arranged
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy {x2}
Slave 2 the system
Thompson's my last name, but my daddy's name is Lloyd
The farther back I trace it, the more it becomes null and void
All my life I've struggled just 2 be called a boy
Slave 2 the system, oh what a joy
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy
Hell if I do!
(Oh, U better fetch that water, boy)
Oh, I'm just a slave 2 the system
Here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
Slave 2 the system

song performed by Prince
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It Is Not

Conscious of structure.
Conscious of order, law and discipline.
Conscious of those to whom is given respect.
Conscious of tradition and ideals...
And the effect this has on one's mindset.

Conscious of a faith that goes much deeper,
Than the faking of an acceptance of rituals.

Conscious of life,
And the limits of it lived.
Conscious are those,
Who are aware that this life...
Is much more than it is perceived,
It is!
Since it is not what we have been led to believe.
And a consciousness of those conscious of this,
Is what has been received.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Affluenza

An affluenza suffered has gone.
Moan on.
But they've got to snap back.
Because that affluenza traps

And it's hard,
For them...
To sacrifice their trinkets.

How will they live,
Without their bangled baubled beads?

But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
Since that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.

Yes,
An affluenza suffered has gone.
Moan on.
But they've got to snap back.
Because that affluenza traps
How will they live,
Without those bangled baubled beads?
The ones they use to wear around to get the people teased.

But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
Since that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.

Yes,
An affluenza suffered has gone.
But many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
Since a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
And that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.
But many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
Since a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
And that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.

Yes,
An affluenza suffered has gone.
Moan on.
But they've got to snap back.
Because that affluenza traps
Moan on!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Latest Fashion

Performed by the time with prince
Fellas? yeah! hit me!
R we ready? I do believe we r ready!
What time is it? yount! its killing time, morris!
I know thats right, cause I am the latest fashion
(go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris,
Yount, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris,
Go morris, go morris)
I know I said I loved u
I know I said I needed u
I know I said that Id b here always
But I what I didnt tell u is that
This year the latest fashion is 2 lie in the heat of passion
This year the latest fashion is 2 lie in the heat of passion
People tell us what we want 2 hear
(time) this time the tables r turned
This time were the ones thats painting fires
Instead of getting burned (yount)
This year the latest fashion is 2 lie in the heat of passion
This year the latest fashion is 2 lie in the heat of passion
(go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris, go morris)
Jellybean, (go morris) dont be so mean, (go morris)
Cowboy. heh heh, youre fired!
Jam jimmy jam jimmy jam jimmy jam jimmy jam jimmy jam jimmy jam jimmy jam!
People tell me what I want to hear
This time the tables r turned
Jerome, body language
{go morris chanted 16 times over}
Now do the horse (yeah)
Oak tree! (look out)
I like that, oak tree!
Get ready, chili sauce!
This year the latest fashion is 2 lie in the heat of passion
Fellas? (yeah) hit me, but dontcha lag
Tell me what dance to do...it starts with an m ... (murph drag)
I aint thru yet...band!
Whaa...hallelujah...whoa whoa whoa whoa
Everybody wanna tell me how to play the game
When I run it better than a madame runs dames
Trying to beat me like playing pool with a rope
My funk will leave ya dead cause its good and plenty dope
All in all Im still the king and all yall the court
If you thinking about ruling me ya better get abortions, yes!
Its jacked, cause Im back, and Im harder than a heart attack
And Im the cure for any disease cause there aint nobody funky like me!
(go morris go morris go morris)
Dont be a fool
(go morris, go morris, go morris)
This year the latest fashion is 2 lie in the heat of passion
The latest fashion

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
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The Bride of Abydos

"Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted." — Burns

TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND,
THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED,
WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT,
BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND,

BYRON.

THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS

CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

Know ye the land where cypress and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine;
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom; [1]
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;
Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,
And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye;
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?
'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun —
Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? [2]
Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell
Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.

II.

Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Apparell'd as becomes the brave,
Awaiting each his lord's behest
To guide his steps, or guard his rest,

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Slave Nation

my allegation
its alright
slave nation
alright
want to tell ya
all is gone
you're a slave nation
right or wrong
tell
oh
take a moment to tell
oh
slave nation
its alright
you're a slave nation
oh my
its cool
its fine
slave nation
alright
tell
tell
tell me not to tell
wanna tell
slave nation
slave nation
slave nation
slave nation
its alright
isolation
right
oh?
its alright
its alright
its alright
Back to Simple Lyrics & Desktop Wallpapers
Back Home

song performed by Simple Minds
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Rebekkah

When Abraham was weak and old
he forced his slave to swear an oath,
while grasping of his member hold:
“Make sure that Isaac plights his troth
to someone from my ancient clan;
from Canaanites don’t choose a damsel;
in Canaan I believe each man
to be a mamzer, girl a mamzelle.”
Everybody knows a mamzer
is repulsive to the Jews,
a cockroach rather than Greg Samsa,
but mamzelle is a word I choose
instead of mademoiselle, for rhyming;
a lot of members of my tribe
like them a lot when they’re good-timing,
though outlawed by the Bible scribe.

The slave asked God to make it clear,
by giving him a secret sign:
“The first young girl who will appear
and bring me water, not cool wine,
should be for Isaac lifelong mate.”
She came, of Bethuel the daughter,
and didn’t cause the slave to wait
until she brought him ice-cold water.
A prompt response, what he’d been urgin’,
occurred at once, and what is more
she was what he had asked for, virgin,
a miracle, I’d say, encore.
Some water for the camels, too,
she brought, precisely as he’d bid,
although she clearly never knew
it was God’s will, because He hid,
as later He would hide when Ruth
by Boaz was allowed to glean.
His hidden will reveals the truth
like daylight coming through a screen,
a scrim that only may be lifted
by those who’re spiritually gifted.

I ought to mention here a point.
Though Canaanite, the slaveman thought
that Abraham might yet appoint
him as his heir, and therefore sought
to lie with that young girl, he knew
he ought to bring back to his lord
for Isaac as a virgin. Clue
for this interpretation find
in language that describes him as
a man, a word that should remind

[...] Read more

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Jones The Rhythm

Rhythm is both the songs manical and its demoinc charge.
It is the original breath , it is the whisper of unremitting demand.
What do you still want to be said of the singer?
What do you think you can still draw from my lips?
Exact presence that no fantasy can represent.
Purveyor of the old secret, alive with the blood that boils again,
And is pulsing where the rhythm is torn apart.
How your singers blood is incensed at the depth of sound.
Lacerations echo in the mouths open erotic sky where dance together,
The lost trenches of rythm and an imploring immobility...
Ladies and gentlemen...miss grace jones...jones the rhythm.
Slave!!
Slave to the rhythm, dance to the rhythm,
Axe to wood in ancient times, man machine production line,
The fire burns, with heart beats strong,
Sing out loud, the chaing gang song.
Never stop the action, keep it up, keep it up,
Never stop the action, keep it up, keep it up.
Slave to the rhythm, dance to the rhythm,
The rhythm...master...master.
Never stop the action, keep it up,
Never stop the action, keep it up, keep it up.
Slave to the rhythm, work to the rhythm,
Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm.
Slave to the rhythm,
Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm,
Slave to the rhythm, work...to the rhythm,
To the rhythm, work to the rhythm, to the rhythm.
Slave, slave,
To the rhythm, to the rhythm, to the rhythm.
*grace: oh thats weird [laughs].*
*interviewer: grace jones, welcome.*
*grace: thank you paul [laughs], if youre wondering whats wrong with my voice I just choked on my saliva...so...[laughs].*
*interviewer: now obviously, youre in the bond movie...*

song performed by Grace Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Slave To Love

You're the hunter, I'm the game
Since we met, I'm not the same
The hunger in you can't be satisfied
You had a secret strategy
To take control and capture me
I lost my will and now I'm paralyzed
We made a slave to love
That's what I'll always be
A victim of your touch
You stole my soul and now I'm just a slave to love, yeah
It took one night at your hotel
To fall from grace into your spell
I can't believe you brought me to my knees
You kiss me once and love me twice
I'm on your mental sacrifice
Your target's touch was hot and aim to please
We made a slave to love
That's what I'll always be
A victim of your touch
You stole my soul and now I'm just a slave to love
Oh, I'm being used
Been held hostage for so long
Is this a one way love affair
Really wrong
We made a slave to love
That's what I'll always be
A victim of your touch
You stole my soul and now I'm just a slave to love
Just a slave to love
Just a slave to love
A victim of your touch

song performed by Quiet Riot
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Rescue The Slave

This song was composed while George Latimer, the fugitive slave, was
confined in Leverett Street Jail, Boston, expecting to be carried back
to Virginia by James B. Gray, his claimant.

Sadly the fugitive weeps in his cell,
Listen awhile to the story we tell;
Listen ye gentle ones, listen ye brave,
Lady fair! Lady fair! weep for the slave.

Praying for liberty, dearer than life,
Torn from his little one, torn from his wife,
Flying from slavery, hear him and save,
Christian men! Christian men! help the poor slave.

Think of his agony, feel for his pain,
Should his hard master e'er hold him again;
Spirit of liberty, rise from your grave,
Make him free, make him free, rescue the slave.

Freely the slave master goes where he will;
Freemen, stand ready, his wishes to fulfil,
Helping the tyrant, or honest or knave,
Thinking not, caring not, for the poor slave.

Talk not of liberty, liberty is dead;
See the slave master's whip over our head;
Stooping beneath it, we ask what he craves,
Boston boys! Boston boys! catch me my slaves.

Freemen, arouse ye, before it's too late;
Slavery is knocking, at every gate,
Make good the promise, your early days gave,
Boston boys! Boston boys! rescue the slave.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Corsair

'O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our soul's as free
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
Survey our empire, and behold our home!
These are our realms, no limits to their sway-
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
Ours the wild life in tumult still to range
From toil to rest, and joy in every change.
Oh, who can tell? not thou, luxurious slave!
Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave;
Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and ease!
whom slumber soothes not - pleasure cannot please -
Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried,
And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide,
The exulting sense - the pulse's maddening play,
That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?
That for itself can woo the approaching fight,
And turn what some deem danger to delight;
That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal,
And where the feebler faint can only feel -
Feel - to the rising bosom's inmost core,
Its hope awaken and Its spirit soar?
No dread of death if with us die our foes -
Save that it seems even duller than repose:
Come when it will - we snatch the life of life -
When lost - what recks it but disease or strife?
Let him who crawls enamour'd of decay,
Cling to his couch, and sicken years away:
Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head;
Ours - the fresh turf; and not the feverish bed.
While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul,
Ours with one pang - one bound - escapes control.
His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave,
And they who loath'd his life may gild his grave:
Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed,
When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead.
For us, even banquets fond regret supply
In the red cup that crowns our memory;
And the brief epitaph in danger's day,
When those who win at length divide the prey,
And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er each brow,
How had the brave who fell exulted now!'

II.
Such were the notes that from the Pirate's isle
Around the kindling watch-fire rang the while:
Such were the sounds that thrill'd the rocks along,
And unto ears as rugged seem'd a song!
In scatter'd groups upon the golden sand,
They game-carouse-converse-or whet the brand:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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My Other Self

I am your slave, desire,
I am your slave, pride,
I am your slave, vice,
I am your slave, success.

Get rid of desire, desire said,
Get rid of pride, pride said,
Get rid of vices, honor said,
Get rid of competition, success said.

I will still be the slave of sin,
The slave of matter,
The slave of love,
The slave of myself.

Get rid of sin and lust,
Of matter and love,
And you will get rid of yourself,
Said my other self.

Are you proposing suicide, sadly said myself?
No, I would never do that, said my other self.
Then, what are you trying to say?
Just be yourself.

poem by Dejan Stojanovic
Added by Poetry Lover
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