I learned early on, having known the most handsome, successful, Gary Cooper, Clark Gable, Robert Taylor, don't ever spend too much time looking in the mirror.
quote by Robert Stack
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Lord Robert
Tall and young and light of tongue,
Gallantly riding by wood and lea,
He was ware of a maiden fair
And turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Day by day she walks that way
Never hoping by wood or lea
To be ware of the stranger gay
Who turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?
Chance for chance he rides that way,
And again by wood or by lea
He was ware of the maiden fair,
And again he whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance that way rode he,
And again where he was ware,
Debonnair to that maiden fair
He turned and said, 'You remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance on a summer-day,
Meeting her still by wood and lea,
He leaped gay from his gallant grey
And said, 'I see you remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
[...] Read more
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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The Mirror Struggled
The mirror struggled; reflecting beauty such as hers
Prescribed a glory in the challenge – a fairytale
Or such as like! To shimmer back hypnotic hues
From auras of her skin – how do mirrors cope?
Hoary tales of pretty adolescent buds
Could never hope to match the tomes of dreamy
Pulchritude apprising us of such a belle as she.
The mirror shone; and as it worked itself, a moment –
Did it overlook the hidden melancholy?
Were melting eyes bedewed–? Florid lips imbued
With mournfulness? The hindrance of the silver glass!
Oh! to seek – to know the meaning of the sorrow!
She (with tearful hair, an image out of heaven)
Never opened up her heart. The mirror struggled.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
m irror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Tearful Eyes
The mirror laughed; it gleaned my thoughts
And saw me cry my want:
Synthetic views - pathetic clues
To how I tick - and now you taunt,
You bleeding mirror, jibe another!
Just because I dream…
To be the mighty hero wise!
And perch atop the sodden hill
Of blood and pungent death,
To lead our race from sure demise.
Let's regain, collect, and rest
Before the battle slams
Our dauntless nerve. And now to rise!
Come follow me - we'll slay the foe!
See my cloak unfurl.
Through screams and wails, he fails and dies.
Look! he falls across his minions'
Path. I laugh aloud.
My warriors hold me to the skies.
Overhead the clouds recede,
Thinning out the black.
And then I fade in pallid lies.
Returning back to conscious state,
I let the mirror slate me:
Fathoming my remote disguise,
Reflecting back my hopeless lot.
Oh to smash the thing!
If I could see through tearful eyes.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Magic Mirror
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s the fairest fair of all?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s the smartest head of all?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s that girl standing tall?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who's to hold me when I fall?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Why are you not answering my call?
Oh mirror...
The lines and the scars you do not hide;
My scattered thoughts you would not guide.
Me myself and I; the gap so wide.
Oh mirror; you make me look inside!
You show me a girl against the tide,
By the rules she would not abide.
Within your frame, a caged spirit am I?
By your name, what voice have I?
Oh mirror … can you hear me?
My mirror is deceiving me!
I will show you my smile... will you let me?
A star in my eyes... will you get me?
I will show you a happy face... please let me!
A shelter from myself... please get me!
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Do not show me her face;
I have killed her and left no trace.
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
She shall never stutter;
With a new voice, words she will utter.
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Her fear you shall never show;
Fearless she is to know.
Mirror... mirror on the wall,
Do not point at her scars;
It hurts... not her scars.
[...] Read more
poem by Marwa Rakha
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Mirror, Mirror
(m. sembello/d. matkowsky)
Mirror, mirror
On the wall
You said you had the answers to it all
You never told me Id take a fall
Mirror, mirror
On the wall
You, you turned my life
Into a paperback novel
Words that come to life
Inside your little melodrama
Chapter one
When I was young
I came to you with my problems
Chapter two
You promised me love
And anything that I desired
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
You have nailed my heart
Upon the wall for your pleasures
You have cast a spell
That cannot ever be broken
And now
My eyes grow tired
I watch my picture getting older
But i
Remain the same
Trapped in this mirror forever
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
You never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
I talk to you each night
And I follow your advise
Youve been wrong
Whats the price I have to pay
For this fairy tale thing called love?
Let me go!
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
Let me go
[...] Read more
song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mirror To Mirror
Written by gerry beckley, 1994
Found on hourglass.
I havent seen forever
Dont even know her name
I call on dreams and other schemes
To try and win that game
Now that its over, darling
Look into my eyes
Seein your own reflection
Much to your surprise
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
And though we tried in earnest
The distant silence yells
We call on wings and other things
To try and break that spell
Now that its over, darling
Truth in the common cause
We stare at our own indifference
By seeing the others flaws
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
Oh, mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
As we look inside, theres nowhere to turn
Theres nowhere to hide
Now that its over, darling
Look into my eyes
Seein your own reflection
Much to your surprise
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
Oh, mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
Mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
song performed by America
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mirror, Mirror, Bloody Fibber
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Can't you show me tall and slim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Must I look so bloody grim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
You're distorting my poor waist!
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And why the heck am I defaced?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Why have I a double chin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And what's the stupid, goofy grin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Pointless asking ‘Who’s the fairest? –
More bloody likely, 'Who’s the queerest? ’
Now look, I paid a big bucks for thee,
So why can’t you be nice to me?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Me, you say? Ah, that's better –
Mirror, mirror, bloody fibber!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Brus Book XIII
[Douglas's division attacks]
Quhen thir twa fyrst bataillis wer
Assemblyt as I said you er,
The Stewart Walter that than was
And the gud lord als of Douglas
5 In a bataill, quhen that thai saw
The erle foroutyn dred or aw
Assembill with his cumpany
On all that folk sa sturdely
For till help him thai held thar way
10 And thar bataill in gud aray,
And assemblyt sa hardely
Besid the erle a litill by
That thar fayis feld thar cummyn wele,
For with wapynnys stalwart of stele
15 Thai dang apon with all thar mycht.
Thar fayis resavyt weile Ik hycht
With swerdis speris and with mase,
The bataill thar sa feloune was
And sua rycht gret spilling of blud
20 That on the erd the flousis stud.
The Scottismen sa weill thaim bar
And sua gret slauchter maid thai thar
And fra sa fele the lyvis revyt
That all the feld bludy wes levyt.
25 That tyme thar thre bataillis wer
All syd be sid fechtand weill ner,
Thar mycht men her mony dynt
And wapynnys apon armuris stynt,
And se tumble knychtis and stedis
30 And mony rich and reale wedis
Defoullyt foully under fete,
Sum held on loft sum tynt the suet.
A lang quhill thus fechtand thai war
That men na noyis mycht her thar,
35 Men hard nocht bot granys and dintis
That slew fyr as men slayis on flyntis,
Thai faucht ilk ane sa egerly
That thai maid nother moyis na cry
Bot dang on other at thar mycht
40 With wapnys that war burnyst brycht.
The arowys als sua thyk thar flaw
That thai mycht say wele that thaim saw
That thai a hidwys schour gan ma,
For quhar thai fell Ik undreta
45 Thai left efter thaim taknyng
That sall ned as I trow leching.
[Sir Robert Keith's cavalry disperses the English archers]
[...] Read more
poem by John Barbour
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Dr. Robert
Ring my friend I said you'd call Dr. Robert,
Day or night he'll be there anytime at all Dr. Robert.
Dr. Robert, your a new and better man,
He helps you to understand,
He does everything he can, Dr. Robert.
If your down he'll pick you up Dr. Robert,
Take a drink from his special cup Dr. Robert
Dr. Robert, he's a man you must believe,
Helping everyone in need,
No one can succeed like Dr. Robert
Well, well, well your feeling fine,
Well, well, well, he'll make you Dr. Robert
My friend works for the national health Dr. Robert,
Don't take money to see yourself with Dr. Robert
Dr. Robert, your a new and better man,
He helps you to understand,
He does everything he can Dr. Robert
Well, well, well, your feeling fine,
Well, well, well, he'll make you Dr. Robert
Ring my friend I said you'd call Dr. Robert (2x)
Dr. Robert!
song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Sicilian's Tale; King Robert of Sicily
Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine,
Apparelled in magnificent attire,
With retinue of many a knight and squire,
On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat
And heard the priests chant the Magnificat,
And as he listened, o'er and o'er again
Repeated, like a burden or refrain,
He caught the words, 'Deposuit potentes
De sede, et exaltavit humiles;'
And slowly lifting up his kingly head
He to a learned clerk beside him said,
'What mean these words?' The clerk made answer meet,
'He has put down the mighty from their seat,
And has exalted them of low degree.'
Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully,
''T is well that such seditious words are sung
Only by priests and in the Latin tongue;
For unto priests and people be it known,
There is no power can push me from my throne!'
And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep,
Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep.
When he awoke, it was already night;
The church was empty, and there was no light,
Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint,
Lighted a little space before some saint.
He started from his seat and gazed around,
But saw no living thing and heard no sound.
He groped towards the door, but it was locked;
He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked,
And uttered awful threatenings and complaints,
And imprecations upon men and saints.
The sounds reëchoed from the roof and walls
As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls.
At length the sexton, hearing from without
The tumult of the knocking and the shout,
And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer,
Came with his lantern, asking, 'Who is there?'
Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said,
'Open: 't is I, the King! Art thou afraid?'
The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse,
'This is some drunken vagabond, or worse!'
Turned the great key and flung the portal wide;
A man rushed by him at a single stride,
Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak,
Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke,
But leaped into the blackness of the night,
And vanished like a spectre from his sight.
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Mirror Mirror - Mirror Me!
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
What stories you could tell,
Of faces that have gazed in you
Some so happy - others blue
Some thinking - gosh I look like Hell!
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Mirror Mirror oh so Tall
Does my bum look big in this?
Does my skirt and jacket clash?
Is it OK for Julies bash?
Will this ensemble be a hit or miss?
Mirror Mirror oh so Tall
Mirror Mirror - curtain call
Do I look a real Pooh Bah?
Is my wig the right way round?
Does my crinoline reach the ground?
Is my moustache correct for a Huusar?
Mirror Mirror - curtain call.
Mirror Mirror in the Hall
Oh will I be 'Belle of the Ball'?
Will my beehive survive the twist and shout?
Or will my carefully padded top dropp ou?
Oh dear - will my stillettos make me fall?
Mirror mirror in the Hall.
Mirror Mirror Oh! apall
Sitting in the dentists chair.
'Just relax and let me take a look'
(scratching, scraping with a dentists hook)
What does the Dentist really see in there
Mirror Mirror Oh! apall
Morror Mirror - you'll recall
When I was very young and free
My face was smooth my eyes were bright
Even very late at night!
But now I'm really old and ninety-three
Mirror Mirror - you'll recall.
Mirror Mirror - please don't fall
Broken glass - bad luck for seven years!
Reflect my vissage just once more
Then you can shatter on the floor
With all my fractured hopes and flowing tears.
Mirror Mirror - please don't fall.
(John Knight - September 2009)
[...] Read more
poem by John Knight
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Canto the First
I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.
II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.
III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.
V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Gusto Nako Mahimo Kong Gary Soto
gusto nakong mosulat sama kang gary soto
kanang mora kog trabahante nga gadala anang
pala og piko kanang gakandos sa yuta og dayog
pangagho, kanang gahandom kos bulad nga sud-an
og humot kaayo nga mais nga luto og dayon og
inom sa bugnaw kaayong tubig gikan sa atabay,
gusto kong moadto sa uma og mosimhot sa mga
bulak sa iyang mga gapas, gusto nakong makita
ang iyang giingon nga pula kaayo nga adlaw nga
iyang gikumkom sa iyang palad, ganahan ko nga
mahimo kong gary soto, magtindog nga gary soto,
og molingkod nga gary soto, og modagan nga gary
soto, og moambak na gary soto, kadtong mokuyog
sa mga langgam nga namakwit paingon sa San
Francisco, kanang mora kog tubig sa kanal nga
mikuyog sa pagdagan sa hangin paingon sa mga
lugar nga dagko og sweldo ang hago nga trabaho,
apan dili man gyod nako makaya si gary soto,
mas nindot man gayod ang pagsulat ni gary
sa iyang mga pangagho, sa iyang mga kahiubos
og pagpalutos: dili gayod ako mahimong gary
soto, mao nga ako ania, mao lang gihapon sa
akong pagkaako niining akong mga balak sa
pag-eksperimento. Sagdi na lang, basin puhon
maawat ko ra si gary soto sa iyang pagkamaldito
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Live (exist) : The love/hate relationships people share with mirrors
The first time he saw a mirror,
he was minutes old in a hospital.
Already getting used to the warmth of his blanket away from his mother,
his toothless grins and coos of his reflection meant nothing,
he didn’t know the meaning.
The 607th time he saw a mirror,
he was exactly three and dressed in best.
A mother’s gift of a round, ornate mirror; his tiny hands could not grasp it enough.
Hair parted down the middle, chin - up and to the right, is it impossible for children to take serious portraits?
The 1,501st time he saw a mirror,
He was three and two months in the place he would soon love the most - an old practice dance room.
Cheered on by mother, brother, and father’s spirit, scorned by the new fatherly figure, he learned quickly and instantly obsessed his figure in the room lined with mirrors.
In spare time, his mirror never left his hand.
The 18,409th time he saw a mirror,
he was seven, almost eight, and in advanced ballet.
Thin and lithe, different with no friends.
All he wanted to see was his reflection as he danced in the mirrored room.
The 39,743rd time he saw a mirror,
he was fourteen and devastated in a foster home.
Abuse lies in the past, but memories linger in the present and future, revisited when he looked into the mirror.
His mother gone for a decade, his brother a traitor, his abuser in jail, his shelterer overdosed in 62 medications.
His neglected reflection begging the original to return, it missed it’s friend.
The 40,026th time he saw a mirror,
he was fifteen in an empty train boxcar with unsure destinations, his brother refusing to separate, a homeless man passed out on rotting sacks.
Dressed in rags, his only possession his mother’s gift.
Who was this stranger in the grimy and smudged illusion?
The 40,328th time he saw a mirror,
he was sixteen and living in a wealthy man’s house.
Given new clothes and advice to act fashionably, he had become quite taken to the aristocrat’s daughter.
The mirror, polished and shined every hour, forgave it’s old friend, but never forgot the years of neglect, sucking up won’t pay debts.
The 43,692nd time he saw a mirror,
he was at one of the aristocrat’s luncheons.
He was given an ink bottle and told as long as he was faking status he should draw a mustache on himself and use a French accent.
The forever-changed friend in another dimension consoled him as the tears fell collected on his reflection in the gentlemen’s room.
The 45,811th time he saw a mirror,
he was seventeen and the prom date of his fancy.
Aware that her father would not approve, he wanted to run away with her.
He frantically checked his mirror every few seconds from nerves as he made himself presentable.
When she said yes, the mirror was shoved away into his trouser pocket again to be forgotten, next to the ink bottle.
The 45,812th time he saw a mirror,
he and his bride-to-be ran through the woods, hiding from search parties.
[...] Read more
poem by Kristion Robideaux
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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
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Doctor Robert
Ring my friend, i said you call doctor robert
Day or night he'll be there any time at all, doctor robert
Doctor robert, you're a new and better man,
He helps you to understand
He does everything he can, doctor robert
If you're down he'll pick you up, doctor robert
Take a drink from his special cup, doctor robert
Doctor robert, he's a man you must believe,
Helping everyone in need
No one can succeed like doctor robert
Well, well, well, you're feeling fine
Well, well, well, he'll make you ... doctor robert
My friend works for the national health, doctor robert
Don't pay money just to see yourself with doctor robert
Doctor robert, you're a new and better man,
He helps you to understand
He does everything he can, doctor robert
Well, well, well, you're feeling fine
Well, well, well, he'll make you ... doctor robert
song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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Listen to 'Da Art of Storytellin' Part 1' instrumental by Outkast
There once was a boy named Gary Napp
And Gary Napp was obsessed with rap
Day in, day out he'd be on his computer
Listenin' to Biggie, Nas, and Rick the Ruler
'Thinkin' one day I'll be a fly MC,
And everyone will want to listen to me.'
He worked on his lyric game day and night
But one day lil Gary got into a fight
Some punk teenager tried to clown his flavor
Gary swung on him and the dude pulled out a razor
The kid urged Gary to keep on swingin'
But Gary knew his life was more important than winnin'
Gary turned around and he started headin' home
The kid pulled out a nine and shot Gary in the dome
The punk teenager threw down the murder weapon
Heard the cops comin' so he started steppin'
The kid got away and was never put to trial
And ended up killin' himself after a while
He couldn't contain his feelings anymore
Couldn't do anything right, he was torn
But up above, Gary Napp forgave the kid
Rest in peace the greatest MC who never lived
poem by Garrett Bradley
Added by Poetry Lover
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Robert
Roberts appearance is something to behold
Dressed in the finest of store bought clothes
My mamma sews my clothes cause Im just a poor girl
But robert is as real as his daddies gold
Robert could have any girl that he wanted
But his feelings for me each day seems to grow
He dont know the reason, that hes so drawn to me
But there is a story that robert doesnt know
Oh robert
Oh robert
Robert is constantly making eyes at me
He misunderstands the feelings we share
Theres no way that I can return his glances
But I know the meaning of the feeling thats there
Robert if you knew, there once was a rich boy
In love with a poor girl, long time ago
But the folks of that rich boy, would not let them marry
And I am a symbol of the love that they stole
Oh robert
Oh robert
Robert, oh robert if you only knew
The same blood is flowing in both me and you
That rich boys your father,but hes also mine
And my mammas the poor girl that he left behind
Oh robert
Oh robert
song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Fable For Critics
Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;
Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,
And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk;
And, though 'twas a step into which he had driven her,
He somehow or other had never forgiven her;
Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,
Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic,
And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over
By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.
'My case is like Dido's,' he sometimes remarked;
'When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked
In a laurel, as _she_ thought-but (ah, how Fate mocks!)
She has found it by this time a very bad box;
Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-
You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it.
Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress!
What romance would be left?-who can flatter or kiss trees?
And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue
With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-
Not to say that the thought would forever intrude
That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood?
Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,
To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;
Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,
As they left me forever, each making its bough!
If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right,
Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.'
Now, Daphne-before she was happily treeified-
Over all other blossoms the lily had deified,
And when she expected the god on a visit
('Twas before he had made his intentions explicit),
Some buds she arranged with a vast deal of care,
To look as if artlessly twined in her hair,
Where they seemed, as he said, when he paid his addresses,
Like the day breaking through, the long night of her tresses;
So whenever he wished to be quite irresistible,
Like a man with eight trumps in his hand at a whist-table
(I feared me at first that the rhyme was untwistable,
Though I might have lugged in an allusion to Cristabel),-
He would take up a lily, and gloomily look in it,
As I shall at the--, when they cut up my book in it.
Well, here, after all the bad rhyme I've been spinning,
I've got back at last to my story's beginning:
Sitting there, as I say, in the shade of his mistress,
As dull as a volume of old Chester mysteries,
[...] Read more
poem by James Russell Lowell
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