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My father is the jailhouse. My father is your system... I am only what you made me. I am only a reflection of you.

quote by Charles Manson
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Jailhouse Rock

(leiber, stoller)
The warden threw a party in the county jail
The prison band was there, and they began to wail
The band began to-jumping, they began to swing
You should have heard the knock down jailbird sing
Lets rock, everybody lets rock
Oh everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancing to the jailhouse rock
Number forty-seven said to number three
Youre the cutest jailbird I ever did see
I sure would be delighted with your company
So come and do the jailhouse rock with me
Lets rock, everybody lets rock
Oh everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancing to the jailhouse rock, yeah!
Spider murphy played on the tenor saxophone
Little joe was blowin on a slide trombone
Drummer boy from illinois was crash-a-bam boomin
The whole rhythm section was the purple gang
Lets rock, everybody lets rock
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancing to the jailhouse rock
Listen
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancing to the jailhouse rock, yeah!
Everybody in the whole cell block
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Cmon
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Dancing to the jailhouse rock
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancing to the jailhouse ...

song performed by Rod Stewart
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Jailhouse Rock

(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
The warden threw a party in the county jail.
The prison band was there and they began to wail.
The band was jumpin and the joint began to swing.
You shouldve heard those knocked out jailbirds sing.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.
Spider murphy played the tenor saxophone,
Little joe was blowin on the slide trombone.
The drummer boy from illinois went crash, boom, bang,
The whole rhythm section was the purple gang.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.
Number forty-seven said to number three:
Youre the cutest jailbird I ever did see.
I sure would be delighted with your company,
Come on and do the jailhouse rock with me.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.
The sad sack was a sittin on a block of stone
Way over in the corner weepin all alone.
The warden said, hey, buddy, dont you be no square.
If you cant find a partner use a wooden chair.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.
Shifty henry said to bugs, for heavens sake,
No ones lookin, nows our chance to make a break.
Bugsy turned to shifty and he said, nix nix,
I wanna stick around a while and get my kicks.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.

song performed by Elvis Presley
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You Are In My System

Day by day and night by night
I feel you in my mind
It happens all the time
You know the day dreams stop
My heart beats on
I cant take it any more
It's you I live for
You are in my system
You are in my system
I just want you to know that,
You are in my system
You oooohhhh youre in my system, system
Dont you, Dont you, dont you know that, babe.
I will keep on pushing, pushing, pushing
Until I get through
My main objective baby is to get to you
To turn your mind around
I know will take time
But you know I can wait, now
Youre on my mind
You are in my system
I just want you to know that,
You are in my system
Got me burning, Im on fire
You, youre in my system
Youre everything I need
You, oooohhhh, youre in my system, system
Dont you, Dont you, dont you know that, babe.
Its a romantic vision of me and you
It happens all the time
My dreams are filled with you
Theres no doubt in my mind
That Ill be true baby
You know Ill take you out
And Ill keep lovin you
Oh baby you are in my system,
I just want you to know that
You are in my system
Cut me right down to the wire
You, ooohh, youre in my system
Got me burning Im on fire
You, youre in my system
Cant make believe
You, youre in my system
Youre everything I need
You, Ooohh, youre in my system
I just want you to know that
You, youre my system
Got me burning Im on fire
You, youre in my system

song performed by Robert Palmer
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Reflection

Reflection
By: Adam M. Snow

The reflection in this cracked mirror shows only two;
my essence, my soul; it's also true.
My soul is tainted, my essence is numb;
my dreams grew dark, this is what I've become.

My reflection is cracked; I'm out of place;
my heart grows cold, I need your grace.
I'm falling apart; I've lost my way;
what else do you want me to say?

The rippling water's a mist how can that be?
Do I exist to be with thee?
I am cracked and so is my reflection;
these wounds, they show my affection.

Though I am but one in a reflection of two;
trying to find my place anew.
So let my reflection show who I am;
someone who was to be damned.

Let me be but one;
so that I may be done.
My reflections strain drops of blood;
just leave me here in the mud.

My eyes are stained, my touch is cold;
all I need is someone to hold.
My mouth is silent, my love breaks;
my body's bound, my soul aches.

I am but one in the mirror's looking glass;
looking upon my modern pass.
When will my reflection show;
the truth I do not dare to know?

My reflection is cracked; I'm out of place;
my heart grows cold, I need your grace.
I'm falling apart; I've lost my way;
I'm waiting here for the day.

My skin grew pale, did I died?
I'm here in this corner trying to hide.
My sight has gone; it's the break of dawn;
I'm going back to where it spawned.

The mirror's shattered, not my reflection;
from what I've done this is my infection.

[...] Read more

poem by Adam M. Snow
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System Of Life

Now its time to look in your eyes
Youre so much better its no surprise
Its like a mirror is watching you
Maybe the words been broken - dont be no fool
Following the lights you see like a rolling train
Yesterday is gone - tomorrows in your hands
Something youve had is gone - dont wish it back
Let it go - dont run away - its nothing youll forget
You know the rules dont need no warning
Theres only one way to find the clue
Inside you so let it go
System of life - be the hunted or the hunter
System of life
System of life - its always by your side
System of life - the one and only way to live in harmony
Dont paint a picture full of love and hate
Paradise is here - but exceptions prove the rules
Sometimes it feels just like a dream becoming true
Close your eyes - look inside - it will never be the same
cause for your life there aint no warning
So stand up and fight to find the clue
So watch out you live and learn
Its the
System of life - be the broken or the breaker
System of life
Its the
System of life - its always real and true
System of life - the one and only way to live in harmony
Yeah - yeah
Oh, its the
System of life - be the hunted or the hunter
System of life
Its the
System of life - its always by your side
System of life - the one and only way to live in harmony
Its the
System of life - be the taken or the taker
System of life
Its the
System of life - its always real and true
System of life

song performed by U. D. O.
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I Aint Living Long Like This

I aint living long like this
Rodney crowell
You looked for trouble and you found it son
Straight down the barrel of a lawmans gun
Youd try to run but you dont think you can
You make one move and youre dead man, friend
I aint living long like this
I cant live at all like this, can I baby
He slipped the handcuffs on behind my back
Then he left me freezing on a steel rail track
They got em all in the jailhouse, aint they baby
I aint living long like this
Grew up in houston off of wayside drive
Son of a car hop in some all night dive
Dad drove a stock car to an early death
All I remember was a drunk mans breath
I aint living long like this
I cant live at all like this can I baby
We know the story how the wheel goes round
Dont let em take you to the man downtown
Cant sleep at all in the jailhouse, baby
I aint living long like this
You live for angel, shes a roadhouse queen
Make texas ruby look like sandra dee
You want to love her but you dont know how
Youre at the bottom of the jailhouse now
I aint living long like this
I cant live at all like this, can I baby
You know the story bout the jailhouse rock
Go on and do it, but just dont get caught
They got em all in the jailhouse, aint they baby
I aint living long like this

song performed by Emmylou Harris
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Shock To The System

Woah yeah
It was a night, l.a., burning bright
Oh what a night
Say yeah,come on
It makes my world stand still
Ahh riot, rape, race and revolution, ah yeah
Here come the fire, and my world burns still
Yoww say yeah
Well, you can rock this land baby yowww
Like a shock to the system
I feel good, well alright
Like a shock to the system
Say yeah, aint it irie
It was a night
Hell of a night, l.a., it really was
Oh what a riot
I said yeah, come on
It makes my life feel real
Fear police and civil corruption oh yeah
Is there a man who would be king
And the world stood still
Ah yeah loud
You can rock this land baby
Yeahhh
Like a shock to the system
It feel good, well alright
Like a shock to the system
I said yeah, come on baby
Shock to the system
Feel good, well alright
Like a shock, shock to the system
I say yeah, I say yeah, I say yeah
Come on baby
Yeah, well you can rock this land baby
Like a shock, shock to the system
It feel good, well alright
Like a shock to the system
I say yeah
Aint it irie
Shock to the system
It feel good, well alright
Like a shock to the system
I say yeah
I say yeah
I say yeah, come on baby
Shock to the, shock to the
Shock to the system
Loud I gotta
Shock to the, shock to the
Shock to the system

[...] Read more

song performed by Billy Idol
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My Redemption Poem

When satan fell,
for one wrong mistake.
He was thrown in hell,
it was all he could take.
For there was still light in him,
but with it was now doubt.
Upon his face grew a grin,
all he did was rage and shout.
He yelled to God 'Why did it have to be me? ',
but he didnt answer,
and satan did see.
That hell was his to rule,
with unimaginable pain,
he would truly be cruel.
To all the lost souls,
he was their Dark King.
With their blood in his bowl,
in their pain,
for him they would sing.
Over the eons he became insane,
but there was still light in him.
Hidden in a deep part of his soul,
a place he forgot to know.
And one day their blood spilled out of the bowl,
he felt something stir.
A sadness so deep,
with a pain so true.
He could never sleep,
so the pain was all he could know.
As he sat there,
with tears in his eyes,
he thought noone was there,
noone to hear his cries.
He heard a voice,
and this is what it said 'Son why do you cry? '
He couldnt believe what he heard,
and was voiceless.
God said 'Son your here by your own choice'.
And with that he felt,
in numerous times,
all the pain he had delt.
And now he seen,
that little light,
he could find that little gleam.
He fell to his knees,
for all to see.
He prayed to God,
saying 'Father can i be saved? '.
'Am i doomed to live a life in this darkness? '.
And God said to satan 'My son all you had to do was accept your choice',

[...] Read more

poem by Nick Wingler
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The Cenci : A Tragedy In Five Acts

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

Count Francesco Cenci.
Giacomo, his Son.
Bernardo, his Son.
Cardinal Camillo.
Orsino, a Prelate.
Savella, the Pope's Legate.
Olimpio, Assassin.
Marzio, Assassin.
Andrea, Servant to Cenci.
Nobles, Judges, Guards, Servants.
Lucretia, Wife of Cenci, and Step-mother of his children.
Beatrice, his Daughter.

The Scene lies principally in Rome, but changes during the Fourth Act to Petrella, a castle among the Apulian Apennines.
Time. During the Pontificate of Clement VIII.

ACT I

Scene I.
-An Apartment in the Cenci Palace.
Enter Count Cenci, and Cardinal Camillo.

Camillo.
That matter of the murder is hushed up
If you consent to yield his Holiness
Your fief that lies beyond the Pincian gate.-
It needed all my interest in the conclave
To bend him to this point: he said that you
Bought perilous impunity with your gold;
That crimes like yours if once or twice compounded
Enriched the Church, and respited from hell
An erring soul which might repent and live:-
But that the glory and the interest
Of the high throne he fills, little consist
With making it a daily mart of guilt
As manifold and hideous as the deeds
Which you scarce hide from men's revolted eyes.

Cenci.
The third of my possessions-let it go!
Ay, I once heard the nephew of the Pope
Had sent his architect to view the ground,
Meaning to build a villa on my vines
The next time I compounded with his uncle:
I little thought he should outwit me so!

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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First Book

OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.

I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.

I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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I Found Jesus On The Jailhouse Floor

There once was a time when I was dead inside
I cussed the Lord for the day I was born
And prayed to the Devil to die
Just when I thought the Devil had won
Someone opened up the door
The King of kings
Lord of lords
I found Jesus on the jailhouse floor
Chorus:
Now, he broke the chains that bound me, and now Im free
Today Im right where Mama
Prayed Id be
Im down on my knees
Now I believe
What Mama knew for sure
Hes King of kings
Lord of lords
I found Jesus on the jailhouse floor
Now, if youre in trouble friend, let me tell you what to do
Ill tell you what hes done for me
And I know what hell do for you
It makes no difference what youve done
Youve a friend in the One that I adore
The King of kings
Lord of lords
I found Jesus on the jailhouse floor
Repeat Chorus
Hes King of kings
Lord of lords
I found Jesus on the jailhouse floor

song performed by George Strait
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Reflection (rewrite and edit)

Reflection
By: Adam M. Snow

Alone am I this night of flutter,
confusion reigns, so I utter.
The air is that of a clouded dream;
so dark like that of an ordeal gleam.

I wonder where this fancy bestowed me;
in this room, damp as can be.
My vision is blurred from this smoky scene.
I see only a table, that of shallow green.

Heedfully I approach the table with ease,
Seeing afar it covered in bluish frieze.
My vision once blurred now is clearer;
that vanity table shown an olden mirror.

From the vanity table, that mirror I now held
I glanced upon myself, now greatly compelled.
A face has shown, was I yet not I,
it curses myself to die.

The image that was shown shadowed a vision:
Ye or I inter sweet derision,
o'er thy pass of insanity wake
as much of pain as I could take.

The mirror is now cracked as I am no more.
My heart beats cold as my days be hoar.
I've fallen apart and lost my way;
I am now one, alone in this blackened day.

My life's water has been turned into mist,
I, the writer who can't exist.
I am cracked in my own reflection
these wounds are the signs of my affliction.

I am one in this reflection shown two;
seeking to make my life anew.
I asked my reflection to be shown;
my truth, my past is left unknown.

I ask of thee, 'Let it be done.'
I am the writer, the lonely one
My reflections, it strains drops of blood;
now engulfing in life's lowly flood.

My eyes are stained as I lay cold,
I am weak-bound growing old.

[...] Read more

poem by Adam M. Snow
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Grains

What's the relationship
between a grain of rice
and its stalk or the stem of the
rice plants? The corelation between
the two is in other words
the source and the results
that will reap what the source
had told it to produce
in the beginning when
the source let the stem out
in a sprout form
the weed that many farmers had to toil
in hot sunny days to replant
in another rice field with some water
underneath. Water! Yes.
It's the source for life along with
the source that is planted under the ground
where the water was filled in with.
'I am going to see if the rice pad is safe
from this night storm.' In my bed side
I heard father say these words before
he put on his rain coat and boots
at 2 or 3 in the morning the good farmer
the good father the good pharmacist father
my father, he was so worried to think about
the rice fields with so much water ruin them.
It's in the midnight or after that and he...
with no other assistants was willing to
walk through the pouring rain on one
day in July that summer when he asked
me to stay in bed cozy while leaving for the
fields by himself. I slid down the blanket
though it was the summer time, was a bit
chilly for the storm the pouring rain
made the temperature quite low and
I felt cold after father had gone a far from
the house. I was so lone that moment
thinking about my father wondering where
he might be on which road he might be
treading upon what kind of gravels or
maybe some frogs dead flat or some
wet insects like the Yochee or Maettugee.
The rain usually wet those small insects
only to make them jump high and tremble
with cold and shake off the water from
their bodies. But it's the water that gives
them the life the food the fresh air, the feeling
of aliveness the inspiration God had granted
to all His creations. Yes, those small creatures
might have to escape from my father's boots

[...] Read more

poem by Sangnam Nam
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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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The Odyssey: Book 2

Now when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared,
Telemachus rose and dressed himself. He bound his sandals on to his
comely feet, girded his sword about his shoulder, and left his room
looking like an immortal god. He at once sent the criers round to call
the people in assembly, so they called them and the people gathered
thereon; then, when they were got together, he went to the place of
assembly spear in hand- not alone, for his two hounds went with him.
Minerva endowed him with a presence of such divine comeliness that all
marvelled at him as he went by, and when he took his place' in his
father's seat even the oldest councillors made way for him.
Aegyptius, a man bent double with age, and of infinite experience,
the first to speak His son Antiphus had gone with Ulysses to Ilius,
land of noble steeds, but the savage Cyclops had killed him when
they were all shut up in the cave, and had cooked his last dinner
for him, He had three sons left, of whom two still worked on their
father's land, while the third, Eurynomus, was one of the suitors;
nevertheless their father could not get over the loss of Antiphus, and
was still weeping for him when he began his speech.
"Men of Ithaca," he said, "hear my words. From the day Ulysses
left us there has been no meeting of our councillors until now; who
then can it be, whether old or young, that finds it so necessary to
convene us? Has he got wind of some host approaching, and does he wish
to warn us, or would he speak upon some other matter of public moment?
I am sure he is an excellent person, and I hope Jove will grant him
his heart's desire."
Telemachus took this speech as of good omen and rose at once, for he
was bursting with what he had to say. He stood in the middle of the
assembly and the good herald Pisenor brought him his staff. Then,
turning to Aegyptius, "Sir," said he, "it is I, as you will shortly
learn, who have convened you, for it is I who am the most aggrieved. I
have not got wind of any host approaching about which I would warn
you, nor is there any matter of public moment on which I would
speak. My grieveance is purely personal, and turns on two great
misfortunes which have fallen upon my house. The first of these is the
loss of my excellent father, who was chief among all you here present,
and was like a father to every one of you; the second is much more
serious, and ere long will be the utter ruin of my estate. The sons of
all the chief men among you are pestering my mother to marry them
against her will. They are afraid to go to her father Icarius,
asking him to choose the one he likes best, and to provide marriage
gifts for his daughter, but day by day they keep hanging about my
father's house, sacrificing our oxen, sheep, and fat goats for their
banquets, and never giving so much as a thought to the quantity of
wine they drink. No estate can stand such recklessness; we have now no
Ulysses to ward off harm from our doors, and I cannot hold my own
against them. I shall never all my days be as good a man as he was,
still I would indeed defend myself if I had power to do so, for I
cannot stand such treatment any longer; my house is being disgraced
and ruined. Have respect, therefore, to your own consciences and to
public opinion. Fear, too, the wrath of heaven, lest the gods should

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Choose a Removal of Delusions

If you choose to save face,
With a haste...
That leaves a pacing done,
In waste.
Eliminate,
The pacing!
And do,
What it takes.

It takes reflection,
Done.
It takes reflection to overcome.
It takes reflection,
Done...
To remove delusions.

It takes reflection,
Done.
It takes reflection to overcome.
It takes reflection,
Done...
To remove delusions,
Of the one that runs.

Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions and include,
A completion of truth you do.

Just sit back,
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions and include,
A completion of truth you do.

Relax and...
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions and include,
A completion of truth you do.

If you choose to save face,
With a haste...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Odyssey: Book 1

Tell me, o muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide
after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit,
and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was
acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save
his own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he
could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer
folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the god
prevented them from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about all
these things, O daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may
know them.
So now all who escaped death in battle or by shipwreck had got
safely home except Ulysses, and he, though he was longing to return to
his wife and country, was detained by the goddess Calypso, who had got
him into a large cave and wanted to marry him. But as years went by,
there came a time when the gods settled that he should go back to
Ithaca; even then, however, when he was among his own people, his
troubles were not yet over; nevertheless all the gods had now begun to
pity him except Neptune, who still persecuted him without ceasing
and would not let him get home.
Now Neptune had gone off to the Ethiopians, who are at the world's
end, and lie in two halves, the one looking West and the other East.
He had gone there to accept a hecatomb of sheep and oxen, and was
enjoying himself at his festival; but the other gods met in the
house of Olympian Jove, and the sire of gods and men spoke first. At
that moment he was thinking of Aegisthus, who had been killed by
Agamemnon's son Orestes; so he said to the other gods:
"See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all
nothing but their own folly. Look at Aegisthus; he must needs make
love to Agamemnon's wife unrighteously and then kill Agamemnon, though
he knew it would be the death of him; for I sent Mercury to warn him
not to do either of these things, inasmuch as Orestes would be sure to
take his revenge when he grew up and wanted to return home. Mercury
told him this in all good will but he would not listen, and now he has
paid for everything in full."
Then Minerva said, "Father, son of Saturn, King of kings, it
served Aegisthus right, and so it would any one else who does as he
did; but Aegisthus is neither here nor there; it is for Ulysses that
my heart bleeds, when I think of his sufferings in that lonely
sea-girt island, far away, poor man, from all his friends. It is an
island covered with forest, in the very middle of the sea, and a
goddess lives there, daughter of the magician Atlas, who looks after
the bottom of the ocean, and carries the great columns that keep
heaven and earth asunder. This daughter of Atlas has got hold of
poor unhappy Ulysses, and keeps trying by every kind of blandishment
to make him forget his home, so that he is tired of life, and thinks
of nothing but how he may once more see the smoke of his own chimneys.
You, sir, take no heed of this, and yet when Ulysses was before Troy
did he not propitiate you with many a burnt sacrifice? Why then should
you keep on being so angry with him?"
And Jove said, "My child, what are you talking about? How can I

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Father Of Night

Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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In Prayer to You

Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.

Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.

Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.

In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!

And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!

Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.

And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!

Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Want To Live In A Wigwam

Id like to live in a wigwam
Yes Id like to live in a wigwam
Id like to live in a wigwam and
Dance round the totem pole
Id like to live in an igloo
Yes, Id like to live in an igloo
Id like to live in an igloo and
Fish from an icehole
Id like to ride on a caravan
Id like to take a ride on a caravan
Yes, Id like to ride on a caravan and
Sing with the gypsies
Id like to live on a commune
Yes, Id like to live on a commune
Id like to live on a commune and
People can call me a hippie
I dont want to live in a palace
No, I dont want to live in no palace
Oh I dont want to live in no palace
Theres too many empty rooms
I dont want to live in a barracks
I dont want to live in a barracks
Oh I dont want to live in a barracks
And wake up to the bugle tune
Id just like to live in a treehut
Yes, Id like to live in a treehut
Yes, Id like to live in a treehut and
Listen to the sound of the birds
I dont want to live in a jailhouse
Dont wanna bide my time in no jailhouse
No I dont want to live in no jailhouse and
Be fed bread through the bars
Im glad Im alive am i
Im glad Im alive am i
Im glad Im alive
Im glad Im alive
Im glad Im alive am i
We gotta get our heads up in the sky
We gotta get our heads up in the sky
We gotta get our heads up
Gotta give it time
We gotta get our heads up in the sky
Gotta get to heaven get a dime
We gotta get to heaven get a dime
We gotta have a dime
We gotta get to heaven get a dime

song performed by Cat Stevens
Added by Lucian Velea
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