Citatepedia^®.com

Without Jimmy Carter we might not have gotten Ronald Reagan, without Ronald Reagan there would probably still be a Soviet Union.

quote by Newt Gingrich
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

University Of Central Florida Volleyball

universoty of fl youth summer camp
universtiy of cincinnati basketball camp
universtiy of colorado soccer camps
universtiy of louisville football traini
universtiy of utah summer camps
universtiy of washington basketball summ
universty of florida baseball camps
univerty of florida baseball camps
univesity of georgia basketball camp
univiersity of minnesota speech camp
unix certification training boot camp
unix or linux boot camp
unk basketball camp
unk basketball camps
unk loper youth basketball camps 2008
unk summer wrestling camp
unk wrestleing camp
unk wrestling camp
unk youth basketball camps
unk youth basketball camps 2008
unknown camp sites
unl basketball camp
unl equestrian camp
unl football camp
unl football camp 2007
unl football camps
unl forensics camp
unl forensics summer camp
unl speech camp
unl summer boys basketball camps
unl summer volleyball camps
unl swim camp
unl volleyball camp
unl volleyball camps
unl youth football camps 07
unlicensed day camp
unlimited enthusiasm camp jump and yell
unlv band camp
unlv baseball camp
unlv basketball camp
unlv basketball camps
unlv boys basketball camp
unlv football camp
unlv football camps
unlv girls basketball camp
unlv middle school band camp
unlv national youth camp
unlv soccer camps
unlv summer camps for s
unlv summer football camp 2008

[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto III.

I.
Hast thou not mark'd, when o'er thy startled head
Sudden and deep the thunder-peal has roll'd,
How when its echoes fell, a silence dead
Sunk on the wood, the meadow, and the wold?
The rye-glass shakes not on the sod-built fold,
The rustling aspen's leaves are mute and still,
The wall-flower waves not on the ruin'd hold,
Till, murmuring distant first, then near and shrill,
The savage whirlwind wakes, and sweeps the groaning hill.

II.
Artornish! such a silence sunk
Upon thy halls, when that grey Monk
His prophet-speech had spoke;
And his obedient brethren's sail
Was stretch'd to meet the southern gale
Before a whisper woke.
Then murmuring sounds of doubt and fear,
Close pour'd in many an anxious ear,
The solemn stillness broke;
And still they gazed with eager guess,
Where, in an oriel's deep recess,
The Island Prince seem'd bent to press
What Lorn, by his impatient cheer,
And gesture fierce, scarce deign'd to hear.

III.
Starting at length with frowning look,
His hand he clench'd, his head he shook,
And sternly flung apart;-
'And deem'st thou me so mean of mood,
As to forget the mortal feud,
And clasp the hand with blood inbrued
From my dear Kinsman's heart?
Is this thy rede? - a due return
For ancient league and friendship sworn!
But well our mountain proverb shows
The faith of Islesmen ebbs and flows.
Be it even so - believe, ere long,
He that now bears shall wreak the wrong.-
Call Edith - call the Maid of Lorn!
My sister, slaves! - for further scorn,
Be sure nor she nor I will stay.-
Away, De Argentine, away! -
We nor ally nor brother know,
In Bruce's friend, or England's foe.'

IV.
But who the Chieftain's rage can tell,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto V.

I.
On fair Loch-Ranza stream'd the early day,
Thin wreaths of cottage-smoke are upward curl'd
From the lone hamlet, which her inland bay
And circling mountains sever from the world.
And there the fisherman his sail unfurl'd,
The goat-herd drove his kids to steep Ben-Ghoil,
Before the hut the dame her spindle twirl'd,
Courting the sunbeam as she plied her toil, -
For, wake where'er he may, Man wakes to care and coil.

But other duties call'd each convent maid,
Roused by the summons of the moss-grown bell;
Sung were the matins, and the mass was said,
And every sister sought her separate cell,
Such was the rule, her rosary to tell.
And Isabel has knelt in lonely prayer;
The sunbeam, through the narrow lattice, fell
Upon the snowy neck and long dark hair,
As stoop'd her gentle head in meek devotion there.

II.
She raised her eyes, that duty done,
When glanced upon the pavement-stone,
Gemm'd and enchased, a golden ring,
Bound to a scroll with silken string,
With few brief words inscribed to tell,
'This for the Lady Isabel.'
Within, the writing farther bore,-
''Twas with this ring his plight he swore,
With this his promise I restore;
To her who can the heart command,
Well may I yield the plighted hand.
And O! for better fortune born,
Grudge not a passing sigh to mourn
Her who was Edith once of Lorn!'
One single flash of glad surprise
Just glanced from Isabel's dark eyes,
But vanish'd in the blush of shame,
That, as its penance, instant came.
'O thought unworthy of my race!
Selfish, ungenerous, mean, and base,
A moment's throb of joy to own,
That rose upon her hopes o'erthrown!-
Thou pledge of vows too well believed,
Of man ingrate and maid deceived,
Think not thy lustre here shall gain
Another heart to hope in vain!
For thou shalt rest, thou tempting gaud,
Where worldly thoughts are overawed,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Jimmy

Jimmy
It started out with a few misfortunes
His daddy ran off with some broad from the motown
When momma said we're leavin tomorrow
Jimmy already had his things together
So many days of thinking of the past
The girl he left behind and hangin out in the
free streets
Somehow Jimmy had survived his reflections
The broken glass in his hands, a noose before him
Said he did it before
He's gonna do it again
Give him a fix and a bottle and he won't complain
Until he's blue in the face
Jimmy's the leader of a losin' race
Hey Jimmy did you learn your lesson
You always know what you were missin'
Hey Jimmy did you solve the problem
Just a kid with no direction
Some people say it was fright that drove him
But Jimmy knows who's really scared of difference
The whipping boy won't take his beating
It only left them alone to their thinking
Of how he knew what they could never know
And he would live and learn to be himself
through his mistakes
Watch and laugh, pretend they were okay
Waiting for things to change is just another day
Said he did it before
He's gonna do it again
Give him a fix or a bottle and he won't complain
Until he's blue in the face
Jimmy's the leader of a losing race
Hey Jimmy did you learn your lesson
You always knew what you were missin'
Hey Jimmy did you solve the problem
Just a kid with no direction
Hey Jimmy don't you walk away
We'll look at life according to me
You're my life support auto biography
Hey Jimmy take a look inside
Let's take a chance, enjoy the ride
Impressions don't die
No one knew your story
Hey Jimmy did you learn you lesson
You always knew what you were missin' (Jimmy)
Hey Jimmy did you solve the problem
Just a kid with no direction (Jimmy)
Hey Jimmy did you learn your lesson
You always knew what you were missin' (Jimmy)

[...] Read more

song performed by 1208
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.

I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
The northern realms of ancient Caledon,
Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,
By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,
Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown
Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry,
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.

Yes! 'twas sublime, but sad. - The loneliness
Loaded thy heart, the desert tired thine eye;
And strange and awful fears began to press
Thy bosom with a stern solemnity.
Then hast thou wish'd some woodman's cottage nigh,
Something that show'd of life, though low and mean;
Glad sight, its curling wreath of smoke to spy,
Glad sound, its cock's blithe carol would have been,
Or children whooping wild beneath the willows green.

Such are the scenes, where savage grandeur wakes
An awful thrill that softens into sighs;
Such feelings rouse them by dim Rannoch's lakes,
In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures rise:
Or farther, where, beneath the northern skies,
Chides wild Loch-Eribol his caverns hoar-
But, be the minstrel judge, they yield the prize
Of desert dignity to that dread shore,
That sees grim Coolin rise, and hears Coriskin roar.

II.
Through such wild scenes the champion pass'd,
When bold halloo and bugle blast
Upon the breeze came loud and fast.
'There,' said the Bruce, 'rung Edward's horn!
What can have caused such brief return?
And see, brave Ronald,- see him dart
O'er stock and stone like hunted hart,
Precipitate, as is the use,
In war or sport, or Edward Bruce.
- He marks us, and his eager cry
Will tell his news ere he be nigh.'

III.
Loud Edward shouts, 'What make ye here,
Warring upon the mountain-deer,
When Scotland wants her King?
A bark from Lennox cross'd our track,
With her in speed I hurried back,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto I.

Autumn departs - but still his mantle's fold
Rests on the groves of noble Somerville,
Beneath a shroud of russet dropp'd with gold,
Tweed and his tributaries mingle still;
Hoarser the wind, and deeper sounds the rill,
Yet lingering notes of silvan music swell,
The deep-toned cushat, and the redbreast shrill:
And yet some tints of summer splendour tell
When the broad sun sinks down on Ettrick's western fell.

Autumn departs - from Gala's fields no more
Come rural sounds our kindred banks to cheer;
Blent with the stream, and gale that wafts it o'er,
No more the distant reaper's mirth we hear.
The last blithe shout hath died upon our ear,
And harvest-home hath hush'd the changing wain,
On the waste hill no forms of life appear,
Save where, sad laggard of the autumnal train,
Some age-struck wanderer gleans few ears of scatter'd grain.

Deem'st thou these sadden'd scenes have pleasure still,
Lovest thou through Autumn's fading realms to stray,
To see the heath-flower wither'd on the hill,
To listen to the wood's expiring lay,
To note the red leaf shivering on the spray,
To mark the last bright tints the mountain stain,
On the waste fields to trace the gleaner's way,
And moralise on mortal joy and pain? -
O! if such scenes thou lovest, scorn not the minstrel strain.

No! do not scorn, although its hoarser note
Scarce with the cushat's homely song can vie,
Though faint its beauties as the tints remote
That gleam through mist in autumn's evening sky,
And few as leaves that tremble, sear and dry,
When wild November hath his bugle wound;
Nor mock my toil - a lonely gleaner I,
Through fields time-wasted, on and inquest bound,
Where happier bards of yore have richer harvest found.

So shalt thou list, and haply not unmoved,
To a wild tale of Albyn's warrior day;
In distant lands, by the rough West reproved,
Still live some relics of the ancient lay.
For, when on Coolin's hills the lights decay,
With such the Seer of Skye the eve beguiles;
'Tis known amid the pathless wastes of Reay,
In Harries known, and in Iona's piles,
Where rest from mortal coil the Mighty of the Isles.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The White Rose of Stalingrad

Her nickname was Lilya.
In the Great Patriotic War
When Hitler’s armies invaded the Soviet Union
She became a Soviet air ace,
Known as the “White Rose of Stalingrad”.

Lydia Litvak was born
Into a Moscow Jewish family.
In 1935, at the age of 14, she joined a flight club
And a year later she had her first solo flight.
When the Germans attacked Russia,
Lilya joined the Soviet Air Force.

In the summer of 1942 she was assigned
To the 437th Combat Regiment
Fighting over the skies of Stalingrad.
At first the men were reluctant
To take her seriously
But soon it became evident
That she was an excellent pilot.

Lilya was a pensive and beautiful young woman
Who got into trouble because of deviating from
The prescribed dress code of the Soviet Air Force.
Once she cut off the fur lined trim of her boots,
Producing from it a fur collar for her flight suit.
She was jailed for the offense.

Nevertheless, her desire for expressing
Her feminine individuality was irrepressible
And she continued to design
Her own military outfit.
Among other things she bleached her hair.
Military regulations permitted this.

And then she took pieces of parachute silk,
Sewed them together,
Painted them in different colors
And wrapping them around her neck
She created her own air combat fashion.

Lilya flew a Yak-1 fighter plane,
Which she embellished in painting white roses
On its sides. She made her first kills
Of enemy planes on September 13,1942,
Shooting down two Luftwaffe aircrafts,
A Ju-88 and a Bf 109 G-2.

The German flyer of the downed Bf 109
Was Erwin Maier, a decorated combat pilot.

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Hartal
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Jimmy

Jimmy, my heart is full of love, only true love,
And its wisdom and visions are you.
(baby baby, it's no returning)
Jimmy, there's words unspoken, and unbroken,
Only you can ensure everlasting.
(baby baby, this love is you)
Jimmy, i would like to drive your car,
It don't matter how long, how far.
Jimmy, you can have my loving heart and key and all.
Jimmy, i would like to wear your ring,
All your love songs i sure will sing.
Jimmy, you can have my loving heart and key and all.
Jimmy, i don't need to tell you how good your love is,
You're really all i need.
Jimmy, my heart is full of love, only true love,
And its wisdom and visions are you.
(baby baby, there's no returning)
Jimmy, there's words unspoken, and unbroken,
Only you can ensure everlasting.
(baby baby, this love is you)
Jimmy, i would like to drive your car,
It don't matter how long, how far.
Jimmy, you can have my loving heart and key and all.
Jimmy, i would like to wear your ring,
All your love songs i sure will sing.
Jimmy, you can have my loving heart and key and all.

song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Mr. Spaceman

Performed by jimmy buffett, the great gonzo, and rizzo the rat
From kermit unpigged - jim henson records bmg kidz.
(talking)
Rizzo: hey look gonzo, jimmy's buffet!
Gonzo: oh, no no no no/ that's jimmy buffett. he's recording in there.
Come on let's go say hello.
Rizzo: no thanks, i saw a sign down the hall that said meatloaf.
Gonzo: well i'm going to see jimmy...
Gonzo: hello jimmy
Jimmy: gonzo
Gonzo: hey, you don't look so good
Jimmy: i had the most amazing night last night
(singing)
Jimmy: woke up this morning, with light in my eye,
And then realized it was still dark outside.
It was a light coming down from the sky.
I don't know who or why
Gonzo: must be those strangers that come every night,
Whose saucer shaped light, put people uptight.
Leave blue green footprints that glow in the dark.
I hope they get home alright.
(chorus)
Both: hey mr. spaceman,
Won't you please take me along.
I won't do anything wrong.
Hey mr. spaceman,
Won't you please take me along for the ride.
Jimmy: woke up this morning,
I was feeling quite weird.
Had flies in my ear and my toothpaste was smeared.
Opened my window,
They had written my name.
Both: said so long, we'll see you again.
(chorus)
Both: hey mr. spaceman,
Won't you please take me along.
I won't do anything wrong.
Hey mr. spaceman,
Won't you please take me along for the ride.
(talking)
Rizzo: hey you two.
Gonzo: what do you want rizzo?
Rizzo: you won't believe this, but there's a space ship outside.
Jimmy: oh yeah, i knew they'd come back for me.
Rizzo: what!
Jimmy: come on boys, let's go
Gonzo: yeah, let's go
Rizzo: no way, i'm not goin up in that thing.
Gonzo: oh rizzo
(singing)

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto II.

I.
Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board!
Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair!
Through the loud hall, in joyous concert pour'd,
Let mirth and music sound the dirge of Care!
But ask thou not if Happiness be there,
If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe,
Or if the brow the heart's true livery wear;
Lift not the festal mask! - enough to know,
No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.

II.
With beaker's clang, with harpers' lay,
With all that olden time deem'd gay,
The Island Chieftain feasted high;
But there was in his troubled eye
A gloomy fire, and on his brow
Now sudden flush'd, and faded now,
Emotions such as draw their birth
From deeper source than festal mirth.
By fits he paused, and harper's strain
And jester's tale went round in vain,
Or fell but on his idle ear
Like distant sounds which dreamers hear.
Then would he rouse him, and employ
Each art to aid the clamorous joy,
And call for pledge and lay,
And, for brief space, of all the crowd,
As he was loudest of the loud,
Seem gayest of the gay.

III.
Yet nought amiss the bridal throng
Mark'd in brief mirth, or musing long;
The vacant brow, the unlistening ear,
They gave to thoughts of raptures near,
And his fierce starts of sudden glee
Seem'd bursts of bridegroom's ecstasy.
Nor thus alone misjudged the crowd,
Since lofty Lorn, suspicious, proud,
And jealous of his honour'd line,
And that keen knight, De Argentine,
(From England sent on errand high,
The western league more firm to tie),
Both deem'd in Ronald's mood to find
A lover's transport-troubled mind.
But one sad heart, one tearful eye,
Pierced deeper through the mystery,
And watch'd, with agony and fear,
Her wayward bridegroom's varied cheer.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Union City Blue

What are we gonna do?
Union Union Union City blue
Tunnel to the other side
It becomes daylight
I say he's mine
Oh power, passion plays a double hand
Union union union city man
Arrive climb up four flights to the orange side
Rearrange my mind
In turquoise Union Union Union City blue
Skyline passion Union City blue
Power, passion plays a double hand
Union union union city man
I say he's mine
I have a plan
I say he's my Union City man
What are we gonna do?
Union Union Union City blue

song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Glenfinlas; or, Lord Ronald's Coronach

'O hone a rie'! O hone a rie!'
The pride of Albin's line is o'er,
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!' -

O, sprung from great Macgillianore,
The chief that never fear'd a foe,
How matchless was thy broad claymore,
How deadly thine unerring bow!

Well can the Saxon widows tell,
How, on the Teith's resounding shore,
The boldest Lowland warriors fell,
As down from Lenny's pass you bore.

But o'er his hills, in festal day,
How blazed Lord Ronald's beltrane tree, *
While youths and maids in light strathspey,
So nimbly danced with Highland glee!

Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell,
E'en age forgot his tresses hoar;
But now the loud lament we swell,
O ne'er to see Lord Ronald more!

From distant isles a chieftain came,
The joys of Ronald's halls to find,
And chase with him the dark-brown game,
That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind.

'Twas Moy; whom in Columba's isle
The seer's prophetic spirit found,
As with a minstrel's fire the while,
He waked his harp's harmonious sound.

Full many a spell to him was known,
Which wandering spirits shrink to hear;
And many a lay of potent tone,
Was never meant for mortal ear.

For there, 'tis said, in mystic mood,
High converse with the dead they hold,
And oft espy the fated shroud,
That shall the future corpse enfold.

O so it fell, that on a day,
To rouse the red deer from their den,
The Chiefs have ta'en their distant way,
And scour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Jimmy Neutron Theme

Jimmy Neutron Theme
Bowling For Soup
(Jimmy Neutron)
From here to the stars,
With my candy bars,
Rides a kid
With a knack
For inventions.
A super-powered mind,
A mechanical canine,
He rescues the day
From sure destruction.
He's gotta save the world
And get to school on time,
So many things to do
And not much time
So off the ground,
Up in the air,
Out into the atmoshpere,
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
No matter where you are,
You know he can't be far,
Watching the world
Through x-ray vision
And whenever he's around,
Where adventure can be found,
You know that Jimmy Neutron's
On a mission
He's gotta save the world
And get to school on time,
So many things to do
And not much time
So off the ground,
Up in the air,
Out into the atmoshpere,
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!
Who can we count on?
Jimmy Neutron!

[...] Read more

song performed by Bowling For Soup
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Smooth And Amiable, Opaque

Smooth and amiable, opaque,
with facades like scrims, genteel,
my friends are ones you ought to take
unseriously, and for a meal
just when you think you’ve nothing better
to do, like watching television,
or sending the White House a letter,
or working out with great precision
your taxes for another audit.
Should it be that you don’t wish
to do these things and can afford it,
invite your friends to where the fish
is tastier than what you eat
at home, and then, when you come back,
resolve that you will not repeat
such invitations till you crack,
or there is nothing on TV,
and you’re not writing letters to
the President––since you can see,
unusually, his point of view––
and you’ve heard from the IRS
that you don’t owe them––this time! ––taxes.
At times like these your friends, I guess,
won’t cause you anticlimaxes.

Inspired by an article in the NYT Book Review, by Ross Dothat, January 18,2009 (“When Buckley Met Reagan”) :
On the night that William F. Buckley met Ronald Reagan, the future president of the United States put his elbow through a plate-glass window. The year was 1961, and the two men were in Beverly Hills, where Buckley, perhaps the most famous conservative in America at the tender age of 35, was giving an address at a school auditorium. Reagan, a former Hollywood leading man dabbling in political activism — the Tim Robbins or Alec Baldwin of his day — had been asked to do the introductions. But the microphone was dead, the technician was nowhere to be found and the control room was locked. As the crowd began to grumble, Reagan coolly opened one of the auditorium windows, stepped onto a ledge two stories above the street and inched his way around to the control room. He smashed his elbow through the glass and clambered in through the broken window. “In a minute there was light in the upstairs room, ” Buckley later wrote, “and then we could hear the crackling of the newly animated microphone.” This anecdote kicks off The Reagan I Knew (Basic Books, $25) , a slight and padded reminiscence published posthumously this past autumn, nine months after Buckley’s death. As a personal portrait of the 40th president, the narrative is sketchy at best: the Reagan whom Buckley knew turns out to be the Reagan most of his friends and allies knew — amiable, smooth and ultimately opaque.
What the book does offer, though, is an expansion on the theme lurking in that opening vignette, in which the man of ideas came face to face with the man of action, and the intellectual famous for describing the world met the future president eager to change it. At its most interesting, “The Reagan I Knew” provides a case study on the relationship between intellectuals and power, and specifically on the marriage between right-wing thinkers and populist politicians that has defined the modern right from the Goldwater era to our own. This union occasioned a great deal of comment during 2008, which turned out to be an annus horribilis for conservatism, and little of it was positive. Populism’s corrosive influence on the conservative mind — or the conservative mind’s cynical manipulation of populism — was cited in briefs against Sarah Palin, against the record of George W. Bush and against the entire run of conservative governance going back to Richard Nixon. Sometimes it was liberals arguing that an earlier generation of high-minded conservatives (Buckley being the prime example) would be horrified by the anti-intellectual spirit that had overtaken their movement in the age of Bush and Palin. Sometimes it was conservatives, your David Frums and Peggy Noonans, hinting at the same. And sometimes it was left-wingers — like Rick Perlstein, in his teeming history “Nixonland” — arguing that conservatives had always been cynical manipulators of populist sentiment: the mask might have slipped a bit more in the Bush era, but beneath the genteel facade provided by wordsmiths like Buckley (or William Safire or George Will or whomever) , the modern right has been Palins all the way down.

1/18/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

This Could Not Be The War We Fought In (Cavatina)

The new government talks down; they deceive
about winning
against us, the war in which we did fight;
the beginning
of this deceit is at primary school
and by sinning
they rewrite history to suit their lies,
to look brave in their supporters eyes.

We did destroy a Soviet controlled
Cuban army,
never lost any battle nor the war,
but liberty
given to their imprisoned leaders,
they are now free
to say whatever nonsense they want to,
in their actions atrocities to do.

Citizens did pay the ultimate price,
and went to war,
some died from cowardly terrorist acts,
as was in store;
some women and children were slaughtered
in blood and gore
by planted bombs, some in church mowed down,
in these things this government finds renown.

[References: 'The battle at Cuito Cuanavale: 'The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.' (General) Jannie Geldenhuys. (1994) : At the front. Jonathan Ball Publishers. P240.

'The South African force, under the command of Colonel Deon Ferreira, was tasked with carrying out three operations (1) Operation Modular - The aim of which was to halt and reverse the FAPLA / Cuban advance on the UNITA strongholds of Mavinga and Jamba, (2) Operation Hooper - The aim of which was to inflict maximum casualties on the retreating FAPLA / Cuban forces after they had been halted and (3) Operation Packer - The aim of which was to force the FAPLA / Cuban forces to retreat to the west of the Cuito River.' Nortje, Piet (2003) .32 Battalion. Zebra Press.

'In early October the Soviet-Fapla offensive was smashed at the Lomba River near Mavinga. It turned into a headlong retreat over the 120 miles back to the primary launching point at Cuito Cuanavale. In some of the bloodiest battles of the entire civil war, a combined force of some 8,000 UNITA fighters and 4,000 SADF troops destroyed one Fapla brigade and mauled several others out of a total Fapla force of some 18,000 engaged in the three-pronged offensive. Estimates of Fapla losses ranged upward of 4,000 killed and wounded. This offensive had been a Soviet conception from start to finish. Senior Soviet officers played a central role in its execution.... Huge quantities of Soviet equipment were destroyed or fell into UNITA and SADF hands when Fapla broke into a disorganized retreat... The 1987 military campaign represented a stunning humiliation for the Soviet Union, its arms and its strategy.... As of mid-November, the UNITA/SADF force had destroyed the Cuito Cuanavale airfield and pinned down thousands of FAPLA's best remaining units clinging onto the town's defensive perimeters.' Crocker, Chester A. (1992) High Noon in Southern Africa: Making Peace in a Rough Neighbourhood. (Crocker was U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs during the Reagan Administration.)

John Turner claims that: 'following their losses, the Cubans were convinced that further military confrontation with the SADF would not succeed.' Turner, John W. (1998) . Continent Ablaze; The Insurgency Wars in Africa,1960 to the Present. Cassell Plc.

Comments made by a Soviet adviser to the Cubans in Angola: 'The people's armed forces for the liberation of Angola have not been able either, even with the help of the Cubans, to decisively defeat the enemy and drive him out of the territory or the country.' M. Ponomariov, Krasnaya Zvezda Magazine; 20 May 1988.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

It's Five O'clock Somewhere

The sun is hot and that old clock is movin' slow,
An' so am I.
Work day passes like molasses in wintertime,
But it's July.
I'm gettin' paid by the hour, an' older by the minute.
My boss just pushed me over the limit.
I'd like to call him somethin',
I think I'll just call it a day.
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon,
An' half the night.
Tomorrow mornin', I know there'll be hell to pay,
Hey, but that's all right.
I ain't had a day off now in over a year.
Our Jamaican vacation's gonna start right here.
if the 'phones for me,
You can tell 'em I just sailed away.
An' pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
I could pay off my tab, pour myself in a cab,
An' be back to work before two.
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder,
What would Jimmy Buffett do?
JIMMY BUFFETT:
Funny you should ask Alan,
I'd say:
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
ALAN JACKSON & JIMMY BUFFETT:
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
He don't care.
I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
What time zone am I on? What country am I in?
ALAN JACKSON:
It doesn't matter, it's five o'clock somewhere.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
It's always on five in Margaritaville, come to think of it.
ALAN JACKSON:
Yeah, I heard that.
JIMMY BUFFETT:

[...] Read more

song performed by Alan Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto VI.

I.
O who, that shared them, ever shall forget
The emotions of the spirit-rousing time,
When breathless in the mart the couriers met,
Early and late, at evening and at prime;
When the loud cannon and the merry chime
Hail'd news on news, as field on field was won,
When Hope, long doubtful, soar'd at length sublime,
And our glad eyes, awake as day begun,
Watch'd Joy's broad banner rise, to meet the rising sun!
O these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid
A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears!
The heart-sick faintness of the hope delay'd,
The waste, the woe, the bloodshed, and the tears,
That track'd with terror twenty rolling years,
All was forgot in that blithe jubilee!
Her downcast eye even pale Affliction rears,
To sigh a thankful prayer, amid the glee,
That hail'd the Despot's fall, and peace and liberty!

Such news o'er Scotland's hills triumphant rode,
When 'gainst the invaders turn'd the battle's scale,
When Bruce's banner had victorious flow'd
O'er Loudoun's mountain, and in Ury's vale;
And fiery English blood oft deluged Douglas-dale,
And fiery Edward routed stout St. John,
When Randolph's war-cry swell'd the southern gale,
And many a fortress, town, and tower, was won,
And fame still sounded forth fresh deeds of glory done.

II.
Blithe tidings flew from baron's tower,
To peasant's cot, to forest-bower,
And waked the solitary cell,
Where lone Saint Bride's recluses dwell.
Princess no more, fair Isabel,
A vot'ress of the order now,
Say, did the rule that bid thee wear
Dim veil and wollen scapulare,
And reft thy locks of dark-brown hair,
That stern and rigid vow,
Did it condemn the transport high,
Which glisten'd in thy watery eye,
When minstrel or when palmer told
Each fresh exploit of Bruce the bold?-
And whose the lovely form, that shares
Thy anxious hopes, thy fears, thy prayers?
No sister she of convent shade;
So say these locks in lengthen'd braid,
So say the blushes and the sighs,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lady Clare

IT was the time when lilies blow,
And clouds are highest up in air,
Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe
To give his cousin, Lady Clare.

I trow they did not part in scorn-
Lovers long-betroth'd were they:
They too will wed the morrow morn:
God's blessing on the day !

'He does not love me for my birth,
Nor for my lands so broad and fair;
He loves me for my own true worth,
And that is well,' said Lady Clare.

In there came old Alice the nurse,
Said, 'Who was this that went from thee?'
'It was my cousin,' said Lady Clare,
'To-morrow he weds vith me.'

'O God be thank'd!' said Alice the nurse,
' That all comes round so just and fair:
Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,
And you are not the Lady Clare.'

'Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse?'
Said Lady Clare, 'that ye speak so wild?'
'As God's above,' said Alice the nurse,
' I speak the truth: you are my child.

'The old Earl's daughter died at my breast;
I speak the truth, as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead.'

'Falsely, falsely have ye done,
O mother,' she said, ' if this be true,
To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due.'

'Nay now, my child,' said Alice the nurse,
'But keep the secret for your life,
And all you have will be Lord Ronald's,
When you are man and wife.'

' If I'm a beggar born,' she said,
'I will speak out, for I dare not lie.
Pull off, pull off, the brooch of gold,
And fling the diamond necklace by.'

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale

I. Outnumbered by armour (A reply to William Shakespeare)

Outnumbered by armour
and by men we met the enemy,
FAPLA and Cubans under Russian leadership
and the men accompanying me
was very worried
and wished for the whole
of the seventh armoured division
to have been deployed.

I said to the men
in the armoured car with me
that if we must die here in vain,
the fewer men it be
but if we grasp the victory
the world will know
that we are brave and honourable men
capable of destroying whatever faces us.

Weary I told them that our ancestors
faced a outnumbering enemy
against Dingaan and won effectively
as they were in the hand of God
and so were we.

Colonel Deon Ferreira send us straight in,
from Rundu
(heading north-west after crossing the border)
to intercept the 47th enemy FAPLA / Cuban (armoured) brigade.

At the same time UNITA were repulsing
the16th FAPLA (infantry) brigade
north of the Lomba River
that was trying to take Cunjamba.

We were hitting hard directly from the south,
surprising the 47th enemy (armoured) Brigade,
virtually destroying it
at the junction
of the Lomba and Cuzizi Rivers

fighting with armoured cars
against tanks
hitting fast and then driving away at speed,
like on commando our ancestors did
during the Anglo Boer war
fighting day and night
till the field, the air was filled with gore

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Jimmy Gillum

I was raised up on the west side of town
That's where I met Jimmy Gillum
Baddest man around
He'd rather fight than eat
Mister That's no lie
If you cross him up smile and wave goodbye
Bad bad Jimmy baddest man alive
He was dynamite in a small pack
His fuse was short
He didn't cut no slack
Oh that Jimmy Gillum was a bad cat
Chorus:
Talk about trouble
You talk about mean
Jimmy was the baddest cat I've ever seen
You talk about trouble
Should've been his name
Jimmy never pulled a punch
He was a fightin' machine
Yeah he was he was a fightin' machine
Now I recall one night at the Sugar Bowl
That's a honky tonk where Jimmy goes
Yeah the One Percent were burnin' up the stage
In walk Jimmy in a drunken daze
Ready to fight son in the worst way
So I ran for cover behind the stage
Bottles started flyin' I began to pray
Please oh Lord don't let him look my way
Chorus:
It's been years since I saw Jimmy last
When I pulled into a jiffy the other day
Just to get some gas
I heard this guy screamin' next to me
Turn on this pump you dirty s.o.b.
To my surprise it was Jimmy alive and well
Jumped in my car and took off fast
Knew in a minute he'd be kickin' ass
Oh that Jimmy Gillum was a bad cat
Chorus:
Yea he was talk about trouble, talk about trouble
Yeaaaaoooowwww talk about trouble
Yea that boy was bad to the bone talk about trouble
Play it boys sound good
Us Gillums never die we just fade away
Ummmmm trouble boy

song performed by 38 Special
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!