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Everything's intentional. It's just filling in the dots.

quote by David Byrne
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Intentional

Mr. Intentional
YeahYeahYeahYeahYou see the road to hell is paved with good intentions/Can't you tell the way they have to mention/How they helped you out, you're such a hopeless victim/Please don't do me any favors, Mr. Intentional.
All their talk is seasoned to perfection/The road they walk commanding your affection/They need to be needed, deceived by motivation, an opportunity to further situation/Why they're so important is without explanation/Please don't patronize me, Mr. IntentionalOh
We give rise to ego, by being insecure/The advice that we go desperately searching for/the subconscious effort to support our paramour/Too engaged in denial, to admit we're immature/Validating lies, Mr. IntentionalOh
Open up your eyes, Mr. Intentional
Stuck in a system that seeks to suck your blood/Held emotionally hostage by what everybody does/ Counting all the money that you give them just because/Exploiting ignorance in the name of love/Stop before you drop because that's just the way it was/Please don't justify me, Mr. Intentional/So one-dimensional, Mr. Intentional
Don't you do me any favors
Wake up you've been sleeping, take up your bed and walk/Stop blaming other people, it's nobody else's fault/Accept the truth about you/You know that life goes on without you and Your expensive misinventions, disguising your intentions/Don't worship my hurt feelings, Mr. Intentional
See I know you can't help me, Mr. Intentional/The only help I need to live is unprofessional/The only wealth I have to give is not material/And if you need much more than that - I'm not available
Please don't entertain me, Mr. Intentional/I don't need your sympathy, Mr. Intentional/Stay away from me, Mr. Intentional/So one-dimensional, Mr. Promotional, Mr. Emotional, Mr. Intentional

song performed by Lauryn Hill
Added by Lucian Velea
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See The Constellation

I lay my head on the railroad track
Stare at the sky all painted up
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Two years ago moved from my town
I was looking up past the city lights
But the city lights got in my way
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
I found my mind on the ground below
I was looking down, it was looking back
I was in the sky all dressed in black
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Notes
The dial-a-song version:
I lay my head on the railroad track
Look at the sky all dressed in black
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
The city lights think nothings there
No real stars, nothings there
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Filling Up With Heaven

Once there was a vision
Once there was a glow
Once there was a certainty
No chance could overthrow
Hope was scorched by summer
Crushed and beaten down
Once there was a winner
Now there was a clown
Without you life had seemed so
But now im
Filling up with heaven
Without you life had
Seemed so hostile
Filling up with heaven
But maybe with you its all worthwhile
Now Im filling up with heaven
No baby no baby no baby no
Filling up
No baby no baby baby baby no
Filling up
No baby no baby no baby no
No baby no baby baby baby no
All the fortune that my
Luck had brought
It couldnt even make me smile
Without you life had seemed so
A lonely hideaway my last resort
All achievement infantile
Now im
Filling up with heaven
Without you life had
Seemed so hostile
Filling up with heaven
But maybe with you its all worthwhile
Hey hey hey
As the years had passed by
I became more cynical
All the magic had died
My existence clinical
Ow ow ow ow
But now im
Filling up with heaven
Down down
Down down
Filling up
Without you life had
Seemed so hostile
Down down
Down down
Hey hey hey hey

[...] Read more

song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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Revered

They had no clue who they were!
And it was intentional.
They had no say in their destiny!
And it was intentional.
They were used to entertain.
And for social programs
Monitored and maintained!
They were treated as if they had no brains...
And THAT was intentional!

Stripped of titles and resources.
And it was intentional.
Treated with disrespect and like work horses.
And it was intentional!
Then one day a shift occurs...
And this process from them purged.
A reversal of fortune takes root and grows!
The oppressed no longer depressed,
By this suppression once imposed.
And it IS intentional...
No one mentions them now revered!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tiny Words

Who am I?
What I am?
..dont really know..
Today right now
I think I feel to be
nothingness or
just a minuscule
dot
Almost invisible
in these immensities
can't see myself..
cannot find me..
but hey! ! guess what? !
other minuscule dot I hope
is out there thousand and
thousand miles away
this dot, it seems to me,
does
think and wonders.
of my minuscule heart
my thought my doing
Woww! Awww..
Isn't that amasing? !
here I am!
no more lost

These dots:
are never meant to see
or touch..
each are soo far away..
too far
still
soo close.. sometimes
they stretch a rope
from one to other
become more close
..by closing eyes..
dreaming of
touch smell taste
such a new feel
new spinning dance
new colours
amasingly the world around
transforms
everything
becomes soo small
reduced to dots
and so
two, three, millions dots
tinny, little.. quietly

[...] Read more

poem by Elena Sandu
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Polka Dots And Moon Beams

(BurkeVan Heusen)
A country dance was being held in a garden. I felt a bump and heard an "Oh, beg you pardon."
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams all around a pug-nosed dream.
The music started and was I the perplexed one.
I held my breath and said "May I have the next one?"
In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams sparkled on a pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream,
when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.

song performed by John Denver
Added by Lucian Velea
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The garden in the hillocks (Tartoum)

Against the rocky slope lies the old white house,
there are roses, lilies and irises that are flowering
between blocks of rock stacked together.

There are roses, lilies and irises that are flowering,
succulents, aloes, torch lilies grow
like tongues of flaming exuberance.

Succulents, aloes, torch lilies grows
as red dots against the rocks that are flaming
as if nature is singing about God’s creation.

As red dots against the rocks that are flaming,
as God’s own lovely garden
proteas, wild wormwood and every wild flower blooms.

As God’s own lovely garden,
as dots full of gleaming fire allows flower
while doves, finches and bush shrikes sing with joy.

As dots full of gleaming fire allows flower
between blocks of rock stacked together
like tongues of flaming exuberance,
as if nature is singing about God’s creation
proteas, wild wormwood and every wild flower blooms
while doves, finches and bush shrikes sing with joy.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Women's Greatest Assets

Voluptuous, round, soft, and plump,
Breasts- the ultimate source of pleasure
For babies and for men, alike.

Babies, burying their heads in their mama’s bosoms,
Say bye bye to dangers, say bye bye to insecurities,
They wrap their plump lips around the little pink dots.
And voilà, they suck!

Sfuuuuuuuup~ sfuuuuuuup~
Slurrrrrrrrrrp~ slurrrrrrrrrp~
Hunger, desire, yearning,
Lust (in its most primitive form) ,
Overwhelm these babies, as they suck fervently
On the little pink dots of their mama.

Men, placing their hands on their women’s bosoms,
Say bye bye to self-discipline, say bye bye to dignity,
They circle their fingers around the little pink dots.
And voilà, they caress!

Shhhhhhhhhh~ chhhhhhhhh~
Shhhhhhhhhh~ chhhhhhhhh~
Hunger, desire, yearning,
Lust (in its most mature form) ,
Overwhelm these men, as they caress passionately
Around the little pink dots of their women.

Voluptuous, round, soft, and plump,
Breasts- the ultimate source of pleasure
For babies and for men, alike.

poem by Irene Pang
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A Shower In War-Time

Rain, rain, sweet warm rain,
On the wood and on the plain!
Rain, rain, warm and sweet,
Summer wood lush leafy and loud,
With note of a throat that ripples and rings,
Sad sole sweet from her central seat,
Bubbling and trilling,
Filling, filling, filling
The shady space of the green dim place
With an odour of melody,
Till all the noon is thrilling,
And the great wood hangs in the balmy day
Like a cloud with an angel in the cloud,
And singing because she sings!

In the sheltering wood,
At that hour I stood;
I saw that in that hour
Great round drops, clear round drops,
Grew on every leaf and flower,
And its hue so fairly took
And faintly, that each tinted elf
Trembled with a rarer self,
Even as if its beauty shook
With passion to a tenderer look.

Rain, rain, sweet warm rain,
On the wood and on the plain!
Rain, rain, warm and sweet,
Summer wood lush leafy and loud,
With note of a throat that ripples and rings,
Sad sole sweet from her central seat,
Bubbling and trilling,
Filling, filling, filling
The shady space of the green dim place
With an odour of melody,
Till all the noon is thrilling,
And the great wood hangs in the balmy day,
Like a cloud with an angel in the cloud,
And singing because she sings!

Then out of the sweet warm weather
There came a little wind sighing, sighing:
Came to the wood sighing, and sighing went in,
Sighed thro' the green grass, and o'er the leaves brown,
Sighed to the dingle, and, sighing, lay down,
While all the flowers whispered together.

[...] Read more

poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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I discovered about 150 dots is the minimum number of dots to make a specific recognizable person. You can make something that looks like a head, with fewer dots, but you won't be able to give much information about who it is.

quote by Chuck Close
Added by Lucian Velea
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Latter Days

We
Are
Dots

And
We're
Beautiful

And
Funny

And
Good

We
Are
Dots

We
Are
Dots

We
Are
Loved

July 2012

poem by Judith Gerstenkorn
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The Thong Song

This thing right here
Is lettin all the ladies know
What guys talk about
You know
The finer things in life
Hahaha
Check it out
Ooh dat dress so scandalous
And ya know another nigga couldnt handle it
See ya shakin that thang like whos da ish
With a look in ya eye so devilish
Uh
Ya like to dance at all the hip hop spots
And ya cruise to the crews like connect da dots
Not just urban she likes the pop
Cuz she was livin la vida loca
Bridge
She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
Baby move your butt butt butt
Uh
I think to sing it again
She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
All night long
Let me see that thong
Chorus
I like it when the beat goes da na da na
Baby make your booty go da na da na
Girl I know you wanna show da na da na
That thong th thong thong thong
I like it when the beat goes da na da na
Baby make your booty go da na da na
Girl I know you wanna show da na da na
That thong th thong thong thong
That girl so scandalous
And I know another nigga couldnt handle it
And she shakin that thang like whos da ish
With a look in her eye so devilish
Uh
She like to dance at all the hip hop spots
And she cruise to the crews like connect da dots
Not just urban she likes the pop
Cuz she was livin la vida loca
Bridge
Chorus (2x)
Whoaaa
That dress so scandalous
And I swear another nigga couldnt handle it
See ya shakin that thang like whos da ish

[...] Read more

song performed by Craig David
Added by Lucian Velea
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Polka Dots & Moonbeams

This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the spirit album, and has also been released on the reflections and the country roads collection albums.
A country dance was being held in a garden
I felt a bump and heard an oh, beg your pardon
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams
All around a pug-nosed dream
The music started and was I the perplexed one
I held my breath and said may I have the next one
In my frightrnrd arms, polka dots and moonbeams
Sparkled on a pug-nosed dream
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers
As we floated over the floor
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers
And perhaps a few things more
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter
I know the meaning of the words ever after
And Ill always see polka dots and moonbeams
When I kiss my pug-nosed dream
Words by johnny burke, music by jimmy van heusen

song performed by John Denver
Added by Lucian Velea
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Above The Shed On The Winter Porch

Above the shed, the winter porch
a young wild dove
continually calls its mate
and when the door slides open
I see dots on its breast
and at the pond it quenches its thirst
and I see dots
and I see dots
that shines; when it is frightened it becomes sullen.

Above the shed, the winter porch
the oak tree rustles
and then my mother coughs badly from croup
where sometimes she sits and dream
as the sunshine flames up hot
and I watch her caringly
as the sunshine flames up
as the sunshine flames up
as if a field fire runs past.

Above the shed, the winter porch
a swarm of swallows peck,
sometimes doves land in a group,
and at times I hear my mother sneezing
while I am caught with a kind of hope,
but I know that time is running out
while I am caught,
while I am caught
and my life at times feels sold out.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The March of Ivan

Are you coming, Ivan, coming?—Ah, the ways are long and slow,
In the vast land that we know not—and we never sought to know.
We are watching through the daybreak, when the anxious night is done,
For the dots upon the skyline—black against the rising sun;
We are watching through the morning haze, and waiting through the night,
For the long, dark, distant columns that proclaim the Muscovite!
Are you coming, Ivan, coming? (Oh! the world is growing gray
With the terror of the future and the madness of to-day!)
Are you marching, Ivan—forward? (Oh! the world is dark’ning fast,
For the crimes of greater nations ’gainst the small ones in the past.)
Yours, in part, to make atonement, so remember what you are!
Ivan! Sing!—“The Slav is coming! On for Russia and the Czar!”

Ivan’s Song

“Yes, I’m coming, Ivan, coming—I am marching out again
On the weary roads of Russia, past the forest, marsh and plain;
Past the field and past the village, in the shine and in the rain—
By the cart-rut and the grass-track and the jolting cattle-train.
(And, maybe, some gleam of glory penetrates my sluggish brain)
I am marching out for Russia, and for Europe and for you—
But, maybe, I’m mainly marching just because they told me to.

“I have marched to many frontiers, in the pregnant days gone by,
When they told us where to march to, but they did not tell us why.
And they showed us whom to fight with, and they told us where to die.
I have seen our grey battalions to their Heaven—or Hades—hurled—
’Twas enough it was for Russia!—what cared we about the world?

“Did one moan of Ivan’s mother penetrate to other lands?
Did one prayer of Ivan’s father—with his old and knotted hands?
Did one sob from Ivan’s sweetheart, or one cry from Ivan’s wife?
Or a wail from Ivan’s children, for the loss of Ivan’s life?
Marching with the Wolf of Hunger—marching with the Bear of Strength!
We have marched for many winters—but the end is near at length!

“’Tis a long, long march from Plevna, when the Bear went to his den.
It is far from the Crimea; Oh! you did not want us then!
From the shambles of Port Arthur, ’twas a weary way and slow—
And our track was always dotted with the black dots on the snow.
By black dots and crimson splashes you may trace poor Ivan’s track—
And I think that Ivan’s banner should be red, and white and black.

“Ne’er was Present-blinded tyrant who learnt wisdom from the Past,
And there’s one forgot the errand that brought Ivan this way last!
‘To the frontier, and no further’ seemed our motto and our vow,
Since we marched from burning Moscow—but we’re marching further now!
Neighbour’s burning house—or city!—they are easy to forget;
But we lit a light for Europe that shall be rekindled yet!

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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Command As You Demand It

Strike up the band,
And...
Command as you demand it.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

And strike up the band.
With a command from you demanded.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

Grandstand and be free to be candid.
Strike up the band,
And...
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band,
And...
Do it with a strutting flaunted you do best.
With a caring less who objects your steps.

Strike up the band,
And...
Command as you demand it.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

And strike up the band.
With a command from you demanded.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band.
And...
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band.
And...
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band.
And...
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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mind fillin blues...by Talile Ali

i'm pointing my fingers
everyones at fault
the world is against me
locked deep inside this vault

keeping me down
got me feeling sad and blue
with this messed up inside killing'
i got those mind-filling' blue's

completely delusional
totally insane
thinking things are happening
but it's all inside my brain

keeping me down
got me feeling sad and blue
with this messed up inside killing'
i got those mind-filling' blue's

believe that you love me
in your very own way
it doesn't really matter
because with me that's ok

keeping me down
got me feeling sad and blue
with this messed up inside killing'
i got those mind-filling' blue's

these messed up feelings
inside and blue
because i didn't have the sense
not to fall in love with you

keeping me down
got me feeling sad and blue
with this messed up inside killing'
i got those mind-filling' blue's

poem by Talile Ali
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Beautiful Flower

The most beautiful flower
filling my senses with passion
overflowing my being with plenty
pulling away my pain
filling my emptiness with cool water
joining my soul without reason
I can feel the sweet taste of love embracing my heart
to touch this most beautiful flower
filling my senses with warmth
pulling the harsh cold snow from my heart
overflowing my eyes with sunbeams of hope
between my mind and my dreams...
I caress this flower, this most beautiful flower
filling my thoughts with daydreams of reality
opening my eyes to the greatest truth
this most beautiful flower.

poem by John Earing
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Luggage Canada

b ean bag stoer
bed liner motorcycle bags
bern aby bag
bed in a bag ty pennington
beetle bags roadstar midnight star
bean bag chairs burbank
bedroom in a bag justine
bean bag guns for purchase
berto bag
bed in a bag pink paisley
belt bag tool belt
biasia byoux bags
beer corn hole bags
beg borrow steal bags
bennington golf travel bag
bible verse shoulder hand bags
bean bag stuffing material
bean bag plastic pellets
beijo business bags pastel blue
belkin messenger bag
b ean bag simba
bean bag toss game specifications
bean bag chairs reno nv
bean bag herb alpert
bean bag forgame
bella hand bags
bean bag chair video
bean bag door stops
beretta nra approved gun bag
ben hogan kapalua golf bag
bes pak freezer bags
bean bag furniture paypal
bean bags chair ladybug
bean bag tossing game
betty boop gift bags
bean bag tic tac toe
bettz designs knitting tote bags
bean bag toss rules
beth any bag
bean bag chair indigo denim print
bean bag pillows microfiber
be an foam bag
bible buy loaf bag
bebe handbag bag
beverage delivery bags
betty boop harley bag
bichon frise gift bags
ben hogan golf mystique stand bag
bicyce crossbar bag
bean bag shells shotgun

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The arrowed face

Nowhere to put the medals I've got
Withered mornings flying under my foot-left foot
Elimination of intentional space
Elimination of intentional time
A show-case of blown faces

poem by Nyein Way
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