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One learns to itch where one can scratch.

quote by Scott Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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When You Pick the Ticks Off Monkeys

Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!

And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
Like one who has swung on a rope!

And when you pick ticks...
From another monkey's fur?
I get teary eyed...
Just watching what occurs!

When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.

Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.

When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.

Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!

And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Itch

Ha ha ha (ahh)
Don't wanna hurt you (hurt you baby)
You think you love me, but you don't really know me
Don't wanna hurt you (hurt you baby)
Wanna go ride, not a backseat drive
Ahhhhh ooh - ay ay ay I need
Ahhhhh ohh - something inside that you can't provide
I'm feeling the itch again
I need to get tricked again
I'm starting to twitch again
I feel the itch again
I'm starting to twitch again
I need to get tricked again
I feel the itch again
I feel the itch
i-i-itch, i-i-i-i-itch (ahh)
i-i-itch (ahh), i-i-i-i-itch
Don't want to hurt you (hurt you baby)
You can hug me, but you can't really hold me
what I do, and it's crazy
Don't wanna be cold, but I'm out of control
Ahhhhh ooh - ay ay ay that's true
Ahhhhh ooh - wish I could, but I can't be good
I'm feeling the itch again
I need to get tricked again
I'm starting to twitch again
I feel the itch again
I'm starting to twitch again
I need to get tricked again
I feel the itch
I feel the itch again
i-i-itch, i-i-i-i-itch (ahh)
i-i-itch (ahh), i-i-i-i-itch
Cause I want to go down wanna feel my heart pound
Don't you know that I get restless
You can't reach where I need scratching
So feel the itch again
Itch
Itch
Ahhhhh ooh - ay ay ay I need
Something inside that you can't provide
I'm feeling the itch again
I need to get tricked again
I'm starting to twitch again
I feel the itch again
I'm starting to twitch again
I need to get tricked again
I feel the itch again
I feel the itch
Yeah yeah, I feel the itch again

[...] Read more

song performed by Vitamin C
Added by Lucian Velea
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Itch, Itch, Itch

should it not annoy me
what comes from single addition sound
itch, itch, itch
scratching my finger point
my heart is like free market
my brain is like full garbage
itch, itch, itch
there's worm army in my back
I get itch in my leg
itch, itch, itch
it's an itch in my mouth
I have sharpen my nail
I want to jump and scream
can I come to scratch you into pieces
the hands that touch me impolitely
the blunt mind that speaks empty
itch, itch, itch
you are just itch for me

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Itch and Scratch

You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.

Just like a train
on a railroad track
You go away today
and tomorrow come back.

Try taking an aeroplane
instead of a car,
then hop on a rocket
to a distant star.

You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.

And just like an itch
you’ve got under my skin,
this is a situation
that I just can’t win.

Please give me a break
and get off my back.
Get out of here
and don’t come back.

You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Scratch My Back

(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
One good turn deserves another
Be my love, Ill be your lover
Its all part of natures laws
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch yours.
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
Joy they say is in the giving
Come on give, make life worth living
Your welfare is my concern
Do a favour for me, Ill do one in return
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
Scratch me now a little lower
What a feeling do it slower
Thats it, hmm youre getting hot
Well I gotta admit, you just hit the spot
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Doing The Itch

There was a skunk whose name was Itch—

Itch had a rash that started at a fever pitch.

But the itch was only the beginning of it—

Itch started to get alot of zits…

So Itch decided he didn't know his face—

so he put on a Skunk mask that had more grace.

But Razel puppet liked him for he could tell a lie

she knew she could use him like banana cream pie.

Pie in the sense that the could change forms—

be "Deceptive" which was in Razel's norm.

So "Doing The Itch" was born.

So if you have half a brain—

you will figure out Itch's deceptive games.

Don't worry Itch will make you all the blame.

"Just remember Itch, says Razel-

humans can really play you-

not to worry you are cold and blue! ! "

Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 11,2012

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The 'Eathen

The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone;
'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is own;
'E keeps 'is side-arms awful: 'e leaves 'em all about,
An' then comes up the regiment an' pokes the 'eathen out.

All along o' dirtiness, all along o' mess,
All along o' doin' things rather-more-or-less,
All along of abby-nay, kul, an' hazar-ho, *
Mind you keep your rifle an' yourself jus' so!

* abby-nay: Not now. kul: To-morrow. hazar-ho: Wait a bit.

The young recruit is 'aughty -- 'e draf's from Gawd knows where;
They bid 'im show 'is stockin's an' lay 'is mattress square;
'E calls it bloomin' nonsense -- 'e doesn't know no more --
An' then up comes 'is Company an' kicks 'im round the floor!

The young recruit is 'ammered -- 'e takes it very 'ard;
'E 'angs 'is 'ead an' mutters -- 'e sulks about the yard;
'E talks o' "cruel tyrants" 'e'll swing for by-an'-by,
An' the others 'ears an' mocks 'im, an' the boy goes orf to cry.

The young recruit is silly -- 'e thinks o' suicide;
'E's lost 'is gutter-devil; 'e 'asn't got 'is pride;
But day by day they kicks 'im, which 'elps 'im on a bit,
Till 'e finds 'isself one mornin' with a full an' proper kit.

Gettin' clear o' dirtiness, gettin' done with mess,
Gettin' shut o' doin' things rather-more-or-less;
Not so fond of abby-nay, kul, nor hazar-ho,
Learns to keep 'is rifle an' 'isself jus' so!

The young recruit is 'appy -- 'e throws a chest to suit;
You see 'im grow mustaches; you 'ear 'im slap 'is boot;
'E learns to drop the "bloodies" from every word 'e slings,
An' 'e shows an 'ealthy brisket when 'e strips for bars an' rings.

The cruel-tyrant-sergeants they watch 'im 'arf a year;
They watch 'im with 'is comrades, they watch 'im with 'is beer;
They watch 'im with the women at the regimental dance,
And the cruel-tyrant-sergeants send 'is name along for "Lance".

An' now 'e's 'arf o' nothin', an' all a private yet,
'Is room they up an' rags 'im to see what they will get;
They rags 'im low an' cunnin', each dirty trick they can,
But 'e learns to sweat 'is temper an' 'e learns to sweat 'is man.

An', last, a Colour-Sergeant, as such to be obeyed,
'E schools 'is men at cricket, 'e tells 'em on parade;
They sees 'em quick an' 'andy, uncommon set an' smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Gnat Nebulae

Full pummelling fisticuffs
Stitch over stitch
In and out
Imperceptibly kaleidoscopic
Swirling from ear to ear
Sporadic
Thrumming mystical notes
Notes of whisper
Whisper in the ear
Now a bothered swish of clawing
Cleaving slipping fingers
Immalleable rolling universal ball

Microcosmic needle into
Macrocosmic wool all
Silently thudding kneading pulling
Sealing a sin all opened unforgiven
Eternally whispering to a few
And never really heard
Pummelling sewing the invisible centre
Round and round the darkless sun
Only the end that began

Only a scratch and a bother
What bother to scratch
For scratching bothers
Bothers a scratch

Scratch and not to bother
Scratch Scratch Scratch

Dedicated to J.C. Alldridge

(©: T. Wignesan - Paris,1957; from T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957)

poem by T. Wignesan
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Turned Away From The Rough Stuff

a-When I...
Turned away from the rough stuff.
My mind was tainted and a bit corrupt.
I had decided I had had enough,
And if I had any luck...
Only bad would show up.

a-When I...
Turned away from the rough stuff.
My mind was tainted and a bit corrupt.
I had decided I had had enough,
And if I had any luck...
Only bad would show up.

And it seemed like a habit I had,
That kept me attached to bad like that.
Grabbing to attract when I laid on my back...
With a feeling of an itch I had to scratch.

a-When I...
Turned away from the rough stuff.
My mind was tainted and a bit corrupt.
I had decided I had had enough,
And if I had any luck...
Only bad would show up.

Oh-oh-I,
Turned away from the rough stuff.
My mind was tainted and a bit corrupt.
I had decided I had had enough,
And if I had any luck...
Only bad would show up.

And it seemed like a habit I had,
That kept me attached to bad like that.
Grabbing to attract when I laid on my back...
With a feeling of an itch I had to scratch.

Bad luck!
It had me feeling in a deep rut.
Bad luck...
I got stuck but I didn't give up.
Bad luck!
It had me feeling in a deep rut.
Bad luck...
I got stuck but I didn't give up.

And it seemed like a habit I had,
That kept me attached to bad like that.
Grabbing to attract when I laid on my back...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Scratch Therefore I Am

i scratch therefore
i am
a cat.....
(a tomcat
or a tiger on the loose of a safari in your mind)

you itch therefore
you are
a dog....(or a bitch
or a fungus in the
anus)

you itch and i scratch
therefore
we exist,

therefore
we are.

animates, needing something to thrive upon,
we evolve and get complicated, we revolve around something
and get a little
sophisticated,

we scratch some more, we itch some more,
no longer cats, or tigers, or dogs or bitches, we go beyond
these animated needs,

we somehow say
we need love this time...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kittens Got Claws

(coverdale/vandenberg)
Walking down the street
Youre the center of my universe
You got the world in your pocket,
My manhood in your purse
You aint a bad girl, honey,
No matter what the neighbours say,
Its just that you were those skin-tight dresses
With your g-string tuned to a
Sweet, sweet, child of the street
Heaven sent, youre an angel dressed in black,
Cool, stiletto strut, youre a drop jaw cardiac
Youre the genuine, feline, prettiest girl Ive ever seen,
With your thief of hearts smile
Youre a certified pleasure machine
Sweet, sweet, child of the street
Dressed to kill in diamonds and fur,
You get what you want
With your pussy cat purr
But, the kittens got claws,
Shell tear your heart out
The kittens got claws,
Shell scratch your back
The kittens got claws
Shell tease an please you
The kittens got claws,
Shes a heart attack
You treat me good,
Sometimes you treat me bad,
But, keep it up, honey,
Youre the best time Ive ever had
No matter what you put me through I must confess,
Oh, you got more style than a brand new xjs
Sweet, sweet, child of the street
Dressed to kill in diamonds and fur,
You get what you want
With your pussy cat purr
But, the kittens got claws,
Shell tear your heart out
The kittens got claws,
Shell scratch your back
The kittens got claws,
Shell tease an please you
The kittens got claws,
Shes a heart attack...
Walking down the street
Youre the center of my universe
You got the world in your pocket,
My manhood in your purse
I know you aint a bad girl, honey,

[...] Read more

song performed by Whitesnake
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Even A Fool Learns To Love

There was a time, the laughing time
I took my heart to every party
Theyd point my way
How are you today?
Will you make us laugh? chase our blues away?
Their funny man wont let them down
No, hed dance and prance and be their clown
That time, the laughing time
When even a fool learns to love
The clown turned around
And saw her smile, oh how she loved me
Shed clap her hands and beg me stay
To make her laugh, to make her life gay
Who wants the love of all the world
When here was love in the eyes of just one girl
That day, that precious day
When even a fool learns to love
But oh, how I dreamed, a marvelous dream
Where all of the heavens or so it had seemed
With thunderous applause looked down from above
On a clown and an angel so much in love
Ill stay with my dream, it takes such a dream
And even a fool learns to love
That day, that hateful day
The joke turned stale, the game was over
Those spiteful words oh, go away. who wants to play?
Its getting late now.
My world, my funny world
Had lost its mask and shown a broken heart
A time, a sour time
When even a fool learns to love
But oh, how I dreamed, a marvelous dream
Where all of the heavens or so it had seemed
With thunderous applause looked down from above
On a clown and an angel so much in love
Ill stay with my dream, it takes such a dream
And even a fool learns to love

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mutual Itch One Lonely Night

this mutual each we have
one lonely night
when the moon sails in the
black sky
and the stars are too near
like lilies to the sailboat
on the placid lake,

i scratch my itch
you scratch yours
but what about our backs
those parts that i cannot reach
and you cannot reach
too

we follow the natural law
i'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine
no more no less

we are just
but friends,

tonight

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh! Larry, Harry, Tom and Jerry! Read the Universal SCARY LONE FOX Story!

I saw a chameleon ‘loneliness’ changing its name –
Aloneness and aloofness, seclusion sequestration are very few;
Lonesomeness and separateness, isolation and alienation are not new!
Detachment and disengagement in a cocooning home with wicked fame.
Kick your heels, itch your palms – howls the lone emperor rudely….
Larry, Harry, Tom and Jerry read the universal ‘Scary lone fox story’!

I'm driving myself without any one by my side all the way
Yet the loneliness stands to confront me at the door way;
I don't want to be the only one who's feeling lonely fun
When the entire world is having dream run, I have none!
Kick your heels, itch your palms – howls the lone emperor rudely….
Larry, Harry, Tom and Jerry read the universal ‘Scary lone fox story’!

No matter where I go – lonely emperor stays with me......
No matter what I do – lonely sorcerer digs in me.......
I’m all alone singly Lonely rests my only head – I’m a broken arrow;
A barren bell rings – lonely ruth sings with sorrow in only burrow!
Kick your heels, itch your palms – howls the lone emperor rudely….
Larry, Harry, Tom and Jerry read the universal ‘Scary lone fox story’!

How long is the night; how long is the day! – Lonely life sucks anyway.
It would be a better ride with someone by my side cries my soul!
I don't want to be so lonely; I don't want to be lonely!
Lonely here, lonely there, lonely everywhere – Am I the only soul?
Kick your heels, itch your palms – howls the lone emperor rudely…
Larry, Harry, Tom and Jerry read the universal ‘Scary lone fox story’!

poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Itch In My Brain

You got to stop, its much too deep for me
I was mistaken, yes I dont understand
And my decision, if I choose not to choose
Theres nobody on this line but me
I got a free will that I aint even used yet
I got a free will and I aint gonna use it
til I know what Im doing
Theres an itch in my brain (and I cant get at it)
Theres an itch in my brain (and I cant get at it)
Theres an itch in my brain (and I cant get at it)
And I cant stop thinking til I scratch it
Im still dancing, Im just a change machine
Dont have to tell me Im only waving my arms
But theres so much smoke and so little fire
And theres nobody on this line but me
I got a free will and its making me crazy
I got a free will and I aint gonna use it
til I know what Im doing
I got a free will and Im dying to keep it
I got a free will and I aint gonna use it
til I know what Im doing

song performed by Utopia
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Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

Sir Hudibras his passing worth,
The manner how he sallied forth;
His arms and equipage are shown;
His horse's virtues, and his own.
Th' adventure of the bear and fiddle
Is sung, but breaks off in the middle.

When civil dudgeon a first grew high,
And men fell out they knew not why?
When hard words, jealousies, and fears,
Set folks together by the ears,
And made them fight, like mad or drunk,
For Dame Religion, as for punk;
Whose honesty they all durst swear for,
Though not a man of them knew wherefore:
When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded
With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded,
And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick,
Was beat with fist, instead of a stick;
Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling,
And out he rode a colonelling.
A wight he was, whose very sight wou'd
Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood;
That never bent his stubborn knee
To any thing but Chivalry;
Nor put up blow, but that which laid
Right worshipful on shoulder-blade;
Chief of domestic knights and errant,
Either for cartel or for warrant;
Great on the bench, great in the saddle,
That could as well bind o'er, as swaddle;
Mighty he was at both of these,
And styl'd of war, as well as peace.
(So some rats, of amphibious nature,
Are either for the land or water).
But here our authors make a doubt
Whether he were more wise, or stout:
Some hold the one, and some the other;
But howsoe'er they make a pother,
The diff'rence was so small, his brain
Outweigh'd his rage but half a grain;
Which made some take him for a tool
That knaves do work with, call'd a fool,
And offer to lay wagers that
As MONTAIGNE, playing with his cat,
Complains she thought him but an ass,
Much more she wou'd Sir HUDIBRAS;

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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The Golden Age

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.

Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.

Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
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My Iron Long (live)

Faith, you're driving me away Faith, you're driving me away
You do it everyday
You don't mean it
But it hurts like hell
My brain says I'm recieving pain
A lack of oxygen
From my life support
My iron lung
We're too young to fall asleep
To cynical to speak
We are losing it
Can't you tell?
We scratch our eternal itch
A twentieth century bitch
And we are grateful for
Our iron lung
The head shrinkers
They want everything
My uncle Bill
My Belisha beacon
The head shrinkers
They want everything
My uncle Bill
My Belisha beacon
Suck, suck your teenage thumb
Toilet trained and dumb
When the power runs out
We'll just hum
This, this is our new song
Just like the last one
A total waste of time
My iron lung
The head shrinkers
They want everything
My uncle Bill
My Belisha beacon
The head shrinkers
They want everything
My uncle Bill
My Belisha beacon
And if you're frightened
You can be frightened
You can be, it's OK
And if you're frightened
You can be frightened
You can be, it's OK
The head shrinkers
They want everything
My uncle Bill
My Belisha beacon

[...] Read more

song performed by Radiohead
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Dog Years

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
In a dogs life
A year is really more like seven
And all too soon a canine
Will be chasing cars in doggie heaven
It seems to me
As we make our own few circles round the sun
We get it backwards
And our seven years go by like one
Dog years --- its the season of the itch
Dog years --- with every scratch it reappears
In the dog days
People look to sirius
Dogs cry for the moon
But these connections are mysterious
It seems to me
While its true that every dog will have his day
When all the bones are buried
There is barely time to go outside and play
Dog years --- its the season of the itch
Dog years --- with every scratch it reappears
Dog years --- for every sad son of a bitch
Dog years --- with his tail between his ears
Id rather be a tortoise from galapagos
Or a span of geological time
Than be living in these dog years
In a dogs brain
A constant buzz of low-level static
One sniff at the hydrant
And the answer is automatic
It seems to me
As well make our own few circles round the block
Weve lost our senses
For the higher-level static of talk

song performed by Rush
Added by Lucian Velea
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Life Is To Live and Be Exposed to It

No one enjoys playing hide and seek,
Better than those who have stayed hidden...
To perfect the game.

There, wherever in their minds believing...
Their attention is sought.
There, wherever in their minds perceiving...
They can not get caught.
Or be seen...
In a foolish stagnation.

Lacking both growth and appeal.
With a purpose long gone,
That has killed their dreams.

No one enjoys playing hide and seek,
Better than those who have stayed hidden...
To perfect the game.

Protecting themselves in situations.
And stuck permanently to a stubbornness,
Defiantly making unchanged emotional claims.
In confessions of being misunderstood.
To anyone prescribing stabilizing medications.

'You are a doctor aren't you? '

*Yes,
I am a veterinarian, why? *

'My dog has an itch.
And it is unable to stop the scratch.'

Their goal and aim is to win!
But what?
Once a tiredness like this has been shown...
People like this witness themselves giving up.

Life is to live and be exposed to it.
Those who wish to be kept distanced,
Eventually get their wish.
To scratch and itch in private.
And around the clock if so desired.

Those with peace of mind don't hide.
Or participate in games with others...
Who keep their delusions denied!

But suggest that to those who don't grow.
They are the ones expressed comments made,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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