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Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country.

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Outside Of The Loop

With a making of their own choices,
And the following done of their beliefs...
Why are those outside of the loop,
Blamed for infringing upon their rights?
Their rights to do what?
Hit their heads up against bricks walls?
Or...
Their rights to have no insight,
For the building of them...
That now has them stalled in anguish.
Why do they accuse others,
For the making of their intended decisions?
And why is it these folks can not see,
The forest overflowing with trees.

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Outside Inside The Circle, Does It Really Matter?

outside is the silence of the crocodile
in the river of life
ready to eat the one who shouts he is free

inside is the howling dog
day and night
seeing ghosts and strangers

does it really matter then
whether this being is outside or inside the circle of life

you call it a merry-go-round
as though this world is a carnival
in truth it isn't

i am not talking about love
the love that burns and then fades out
i am not talking about society
the rules of acceptability

it is something else
it is greater i know it is greater that what you usually think

it is inside the circle of my heart
inside this body
you know it i know it

but we can never tell
it does not really matter now

the sea is calm tonight
you are beside me
i touch your face
and we are not talking anymore

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Outside Of The OK Corral

This shoot 'em up bang bang business,
Doesn't sit too well with me.
What's happening outside of the OK Corral,
Isn't my cup of tea...
Even if I drank it.
With lemon and three teaspoonsful of sugar.

A lot today has gotten out of hand.
Too many people have sat,
While ignorance took command.
And when in Rome...
You know what is said about that?
Arm yourself with a weapon!
Even if it's a baseball bat.

That might not have exactly been said,
About Rome.
But neither am I Scottish.
And I am tired of hearing bagpipes played,
At some young child's funeral...
That drank scotch and knew nothing about church.

This shoot 'em up bang bang business,
Doesn't sit too well with me.
What's happening outside of the OK Corral,
Isn't my cup of tea...
Even if I drank it.
With lemon and three teaspoonsful of sugar.
Who approved these activities in the first place?

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I'll Be Outside In The Car...Waiting

They will welcome you.
And shower you with accolades.
You will feel embraced and accepted.
UNTIL...
You do or suggest something said,
That is in their best interest...
They dislike and despise.
With a dismissing of your efforts,
Of wanting to be too close to them.
Your jaw will drop.
And your eyes will pop from your head.

Then they will attempt to shred you apart!
Quicker than a rabid bobcat...
Leaving you with memories,
Of their viciousness...
You will not soon forget.

'Comeon! Don't be so negative.
THESE people?
They are my friends.
You just don't like them,
Because they are outgoing.
And extremely cordial.
That's all they have shown to me thus far! '

You will discover,
Just how far outgoing they can be.
You go ahead and make that speech,
About what it is you can do!
For 'them' not 'you'...
And the proof will be yours forever,
For you to believe, see and keep!

I'll be outside in the car...
Waiting for you,
When they begin to crank up that heat.
To get us from around here.
Faster than you can run on your feet.

Go ahead...
You've just been introduced,
With thunderous applause.

I will be on the otherside of that door.
Oh...
And grab one of those bottles of wine.
The one on the table nearest to the exit.

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An Ibis Screeched Outside In The Garden

An ibis screeched outside
in the garden
suddenly slapped its big bronze-brown wings
and touched
by the frenzy you turned around,
without a word
pulled me deep into your arms,
suddenly you covered my face with kisses.

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Outside Of The Hive

Fireflies in the night-time...
Light your eyes.
I am like an owl aroused,
By oodles of full moonlight.
And I can't be a little hiving bee,
Home alone...
With just a taste for honey buns.
You've got me buzzin' with a hummin' done.
I don't want to ovecome...
Outside of the hive!

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The Darkness Outside Is The Darkness Within

THE DARKNESS OUTSIDE IS THE DARKNESS WITHIN

The darkness outside is the darkness within
Night is the most frightening time
And winter the most difficult season
And old age the coldest and cruelest time of life.

And I now in winter in old age in the middle of the night
Write
A small poem of hope
Against the greater darkness to come
The night which does not end
And the cold which goes on forever.

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The Country Girl

The Country Girl reflects at last –
And well in her young days –
For she is learning very fast,
The worth of City ways.
The emptiness of Tailors men
The women’s paltry strife
The Sham of ‘Smart Society’
Compared with Country Life.

The novelty wore off at length,
And flattered at the Ball,
She things of one who has the strength
And brains above them all.
She things of men who Live and Work
For sweetheart and for wife.
And though it be as far as Bourke’
Are true to Country Life

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Outside In The Underground

violet skys
tear the end
fallin on
my knees again
outside in the underground
battling the rain
im walkin a straight line
stepped on all of the cracks this time
i dont care im not movin aside
forever
outside in the undergroud
battling the rain
outside in the underground
theres no way im headin in today
i raise my head into the sky again
and make my rain alone
ive never hoped, but i stopped searching
cuz the city told me so
it all comes down
down to me
oh ive got a hundred lives
oh ive got to get it right
oh who knows someday i might
oh (ive got to get it right)
outside in the undergroud
battling the rain
outside in the underground
theres no way im, oh no way
i raise my head into the sky again
and make my rain alone
ive never hoped, but i stopped searching
cuz the city told me
it all comes down
down to me
oh ive got a hundred lives
oh ive got to get it right
oh who knows someday i might
oh ive got to get it right

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Boy From The Country

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the an evening with john denver album as a live track, and has also been released on the some days are diamonds album as a studio versi
R
Because he called the forest brother
Because he called the earth his mother
They drove him out into the rain
Some people even said the boy from the country was insane
Because he spoke with fish in the creek
He tried to tell us that the animals could speak
Who knows, perhaps they do
How do you know they dont
Just because theyve never spoken to you
Boy from the country, he left his home when he was young
Boy from the country, he loves the sun
He tried to tell us that we should love the land
We turned our heads and laughed
And we did not understand
Sometimes I think that the boy from the country
Is the only one who sees
Because the boy from the country
Doesnt want to see the forest for the trees
Boy from the country, he left his home when he was young
Boy from the country, he loves the sun
Words and music by michael murphy

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In The Country

Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
When the world in which you live in,
Gets a bit too much to bear,
And you need someone to lean on,
When you look, there's no one there
You're gonna find me, out in the country,
Yeah, you're gonna find me, way out in the country,
Where the air is good, and the day is fine,
And the pretty girl, has a hand in mine,
And the silver stream, is a poor man's wine,
In the country, in the country
When you're walking in the city,
And you're feeling rather small,
And the people on the sidewalk,
Seem to form a solid wall
You're gonna find me, out in the country,
Hey, you're gonna find me, way out in the country,
Where the air is good, and the day is fine,
And the pretty girl, has a hand in mine,
And the silver stream, is a poor man's wine,
In the country, in the country
Hurry, hurry, hurry,
For the time is slipping by,
You don't need a ticket,
It belongs to you and I
Come on an join me, out in the country,
Where the air is good, and the day is fine,
And the pretty girl, has a hand in mine,
And the silver stream, is a poor man's wine,
In the country, in the country
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!

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Marion Barry

Aside from the murders, DC has one of the lowest crime rates in the country.

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Heart Of The Country

A candle burns in the
Heart of the country
The flame fades though
I see to it sadly
It takes me further away
Than I have ever been

I wait and the darkness comes
I pray for my only one
And I wonder if you ever
Will see this land again

We took this land
And we brought it goodness
It's taken everything
And left only emptiness
I am not broken
Although I have the seeds in me

I wait and the darkness comes
I pray for my only one
And I wonder if you ever
Will see this land again

I hide my face against the sun
I hide my fear from everyone
But I've had enough of secrets
They're all lies we're scared to tell
I just need someone to be with
I just need to say you fell
There's nothing out here
But me and a whisper
And now it's failing
I won't even listen
I watch the fall and it's
Time that I was leaving too

I wait and the darkness comes
I pray for my only one
And I wonder if you ever
Will see this land again

I wait and the darkness comes
I pray for my only one
And I wonder if you ever
Will see this land again

I wait and the darkness comes
I pray for my only one
And I wonder if you ever
Will see this land again

I wait and the darkness comes
I pray for my only one
And I wonder if you ever
Will see this land again

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House In The Country

He dont need no sedatives to ease his troubled mind.
At work he is invariably unpleasant and unkind.
Why should he care if he is hated in his home,
cause hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
Hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But he aint gotta home, oh no,
And hes as wicked as he can be,
cause hes gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
Well, he got his job when drunken daddy tumbled down the stairs.
From that very day this boy is more than having his share.
One of these days Im gonna knock him off of his throne,
cause hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
Hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
And hes oh so smug, oh yeah.
Hes got everything he needs,
cause hes gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
And hes oh so smug, oh yeah.
Hes got everything he needs,
cause hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
Hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But hes socially dead, oh yeah,
And it dont matter much to him,
cause hes gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country

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A House In The Country

He don't need no sedatives to ease his troubled mind.
At work he is invariably unpleasant and unkind.
Why should he care if he is hated in his home,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
He's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But he ain't gotta home, oh no,
And he's as wicked as he can be,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
Well, he got his job when drunken Daddy tumbled down the stairs.
From that very day this boy is more than having his share.
One of these days I'm gonna knock him off of his throne,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
He's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
And he's oh so smug, oh yeah.
He's got everything he needs,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
And he's oh so smug, oh yeah.
He's got everything he needs,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
He's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But he's socially dead, oh yeah,
And it don't matter much to him,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country

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To A Lady, Who Invited The Author Into The Country.

How gladly, Madam, would I go,
To see your Gardens, and Chateau;
From thence the fine Improvements view,
Or walk your verdant Avenue;
Delighted, hear the Thrushes sing,
Or listen to some bubbling Spring;
If Fate had giv'n me Leave to roam!
But Citizens must stay at Home.

We're lonesome since you went away,
And should be dead--but for our Tea;
That Helicon of female Wits,
Which fills their Heads with rhyming Fits!
This Liquor seldom heats the Brain,
But turns it oft, and makes us vain;
With Fumes supplies Imagination,
Which we mistake for Inspiration.
This makes us cramp our Sense in Fetters,
And teaze our Friends with chiming Letters.

I grieve your Brother has the Gout;
Tho' he's so stoically stout,
I've heard him mourn his Loss of Pain,
And wish it in his Feet again.
What Woe poor Mortals must endure,
When Anguish is their only Cure!

STREPHON is ill; and I perceive
His lov'd Elvira grows so grave,
I fear, like Niobe, her Moan
Will turn herself and me to Stone.
Have I not cause to dread this Fate,
Who scarce so much as smile of late?

Whilst lovely Landscapes you survey,
And peaceful pass your Hours away,
Refresh'd with various blooming Sweets;
I'm sick of Smells and dirty Streets,
Stiflcd with Smoke, and stunn'd with Noise
Of ev'ry Thing--but my own Boys;
Thro' Rounds of plodding doom'd to run,
And very seldom see the Sun:
Yet sometimes pow'rful Fancy reigns,
And glads my Eyes with sylvan Scenes;
Where Time, enamour'd, slacks his Pace,
Enchanted by the warbling Race;
And, in Atonement for his Stay,
Thro' Cities hurries on the Day.

O! would kind Heav'n reverse my Fate,
Give me to quit a Life I hate,
To flow'ry Fields I soon would fly:
Let others stay--to cheat and lye.
There, in fome blissful Solitude,
Where eating Care should ne'er intrude,
The Muse should do the Country Right,
And paint the glorious Scenes you slight.

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Praise for the Country

At the very beginning praise the liberated Bangladesh
Sufferings of the liberated land were not deported yet.
Then I salute motherly homeland
Blood stained mother, mine destitute mother land.

Praising Bangabandhu Mujib who
Sacrificed life to free motherland,
Begging pardon from him and
Start crossing the mighty ocean by remembering him.

Keeping his name in mind raising voice, "Badar, Badar"
I steer the boat, sail boat by his name
His name is known all over the world
Whenever recollect him I cry silently

I will write an epic on them who
Had sacrificed life in freedom fight
Those who sacrificed lives for Bangla Vasa
Singing the songs of life by remembering them

Rafique Salam, Barkat, Jabbar, the lovers of mother tongue
Protect the value at the cost of their lives.
Pitched road were washed away by Matiur's blood.
We have not forgotten ‘69 yet.

The nation has not forgotten November '70,
Lacs of people had died on the beach by cyclone.
Bangalees had won the election in '70,
Then Pakistani rulers got frightened.

History of 1971 is known to all,
How can we forget the pains?
Bangla got victory after a blood shed war
Let us say Joy Banglar Joy.

Freedom's flower bloomed in the courtyard,
After lives of lacs of people had sacrificed.
Bangla was liberated by the spiritual spell of Bangabandhu,
Named Bangladesh which is immeasurable significant.

Autocrats established terrorism in that Sonar Bangla
After floods of blood country was not develop by eras.
Good people are still lament for mental agony
And fundamental elements cried in the trap.

Bangabandhu was killed by local attackers,
Yet today Sonar Bangla is in howling.
I hate that gang of killers,
Countrymen have not forgotten that occurrence.

Where do we get such a patriot of the country?
Everything is in the country except the father.
Who told he is not, he is in our mind,
Crazy Rabin will remember him forever.

Who told he is not, he is in every house,
He is in the mind of everybody.
Let say Mujib, Mujib, let say Joy Bangla,
Let say Joy Bangla, let say Mujib Mujib…

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Since the Country Carried Sheep

We trucked the cows to Homebush, saw the girls, and started back,
Went West through Cunnamulla, and got to the Eulo track.
Camped a while at Gonybibil - but, Lord! you wouldn't know
It for the place where you and Mick were stockmen long ago.


Young Merino bought the station, fenced the run and built a 'shed',
Sacked the stockmen, sold the cattle, and put on sheep instead,
But he wasn't built for Queensland. and every blessed year
One hears of 'labour troubles' when Merino starts to shear.


There are ructions with the rouseabouts, and shearers' strikes galore!
The likes were never thought of in the cattle days of yore.
And slowly, round small paddocks now, the 'sleeping lizards' creep,
And Gonybibil's beggared since the country carried sheep.


Time was we had the horses up ere starlight waned away,
The billy would be boiling by the breaking of the day;
And our horses - by Protection - were aye in decent nick,
When we rode up the 'Bidgee where the clearskins mustered thick.
They've built brush-yards on Wild Horse Creek, where in the morning's hush
We've sat silent in the saddle, and listened for the rush
Of the scrubbers - when we heard 'em, 'twas wheel 'em if you can,
While gidgee, pine and mulga tried the nerve of horse and man.


The mickies that we've branded there! the colts we had to ride!
In Gonybibil's palmy days - before the old boss died.
Could Yorkie Hawkins see his run, I guess his ghost would weep,
For Gonybibil's beggared since the country carried sheep.


From sunrise until sunset through the summer days we'd ride,
But stockyard rails were up and pegged, with cattle safe inside,
When 'twixt the gloamin' and the murk, we heard the well-known note -
The peal of boisterous laughter from the kookaburra's throat.


Camped out beneath the starlit skies, the tree-tops overhead,
A saddle for a pillow, and a blanket for a bed,
'Twas pleasant, mate, to listen to the soughing of the breeze,
And learn the lilting lullabies which stirred the mulga-trees.


Our sleep was sound in those times, for the mustering days were hard,
The morrows might be harder, with the branding in the yard.
But did yu see the station now! the men - and mokes - they keep!
You'd own the place was beggared - since the country carred sheep.

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The Country Of Marriage

I.

I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.

II.

This comes after silence. Was it something I said
that bound me to you, some mere promise
or, worse, the fear of loneliness and death?
A man lost in the woods in the dark, I stood
still and said nothing. And then there rose in me,
like the earth's empowering brew rising
in root and branch, the words of a dream of you
I did not know I had dreamed. I was a wanderer
who feels the solace of his native land
under his feet again and moving in his blood.
I went on, blind and faithful. Where I stepped
my track was there to steady me. It was no abyss
that lay before me, but only the level ground.

III.

Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
and in that opening a house,
an orchard and garden,
comfortable shades, and flowers
red and yellow in the sun, a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark, its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.

IV.

How many times have I come to you out of my head
with joy, if ever a man was,
for to approach you I have given up the light
and all directions. I come to you
lost, wholly trusting as a man who goes
into the forest unarmed. It is as though I descend
slowly earthward out of the air. I rest in peace
in you, when I arrive at last.

V.

Our bond is no little economy based on the exchange
of my love and work for yours, so much for so much
of an expendable fund. We don't know what its limits are--
that puts us in the dark. We are more together
than we know, how else could we keep on discovering
we are more together than we thought?
You are the known way leading always to the unknown,
and you are the known place to which the unknown is always
leading me back. More blessed in you than I know,
I possess nothing worthy to give you, nothing
not belittled by my saying that I possess it.
Even an hour of love is a moral predicament, a blessing
a man may be hard up to be worthy of. He can only
accept it, as a plant accepts from all the bounty of the light
enough to live, and then accepts the dark,
passing unencumbered back to the earth, as I
have fallen tine and again from the great strength
of my desire, helpless, into your arms.

VI.

What I am learning to give you is my death
to set you free of me, and me from myself
into the dark and the new light. Like the water
of a deep stream, love is always too much. We
did not make it. Though we drink till we burst
we cannot have it all, or want it all.
In its abundance it survives our thirst.
In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill, and sleep, while it
flows through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us, except we keep returning
to its rich waters thirsty. We enter,
willing to die, into the commonwealth of its joy.

VII.

I give you what is unbounded, passing from dark to dark,
containing darkness: a night of rain, an early morning.
I give you the life I have let live for the love of you:
a clump of orange-blooming weeds beside the road,
the young orchard waiting in the snow, our own life
that we have planted in the ground, as I
have planted mine in you. I give you my love for all
beautiful and honest women that you gather to yourself
again and again, and satisfy--and this poem,
no more mine than any man's who has loved a woman.

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The Country Faith

HERE in the country’s heart
Where the grass is green,
Life is the same sweet life
As it e’er hath been.

Trust in a God still lives,
And the bell at morn
Floats with a thought of God
O’er the rising corn.

God comes down in the rain,
And the crop grows tall—
This is the country faith,
And the best of all!

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