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Suzanne Vega

Don't make a threat and then not do it.

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Neighborhood Threat

Down where your paint is cracking
Look down you backstair buddy
Somebodys living there and
He dont really feel the weather
And he dont share your pleasures
No he dont share your pleasures
Look at his eyes
Did you see his crazy eyes
Youre so surprised he dont run to catch your ash
Everybody always wants to kiss your trash
Ah you cant help him
Nobody can
Now that he knows
Theres nothing to get
Will you still place your bet
On the neighborhood threat
Somewhere a babys bleeding
Somewhere a mothers needing
Outside a boy is lying
But mostly he is crying
And he just shouts in anger
Youll find him interesting
Look at his eyes
Did you see his crazy eyes
Youre so surprised he doesnt build for you
Everybody always wants to run with you
Ah you cant help him
Nobody can
Now that he knows
Theres nothing to get
Will you still place your bet
On the neighborhood threat
Youre so surprised he dont run to catch your ash
Everybody always wants to kiss your trash
Ah you cant help him
Nobody can
Now that he knows
Theres nothing to get
Will you still place your bet
On the neighborhood threat
On the neighborhood threat (a night in your face)
Dont place your bets (a night in your place)
On the neighborhood threat (will you still place your bets)
Dont place your bets (when the neighbor comes)
On the neighborhood threat (neighborhood threat)
Dont place yor bets
On the neigborhood threat

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Guys And Dolls Medley: Fuge For Tinhorns (feat. Michael Crawford And Hinton Battle)

I got the horse right here
his name is Paul Revier
and here's a guy who says if the weather's clear
can do,can do
this guy says the horse can do
can do ,can do
I'm picking valentine
cause on the morning line
the guy has got him figured 5 to 9
has a chance, has a chance
this guy say the horse has a chance
if he says the horse has a chance
has a chance, has a chance
no way
for Paul Revier I'll bite
I hear his foots alright
of course it all depends
if it rained last night
I know it's valentine
the morning word the find
besides the jokey's brother's a friend of mind
needs grace, needs grace
this guy says the horse needs grace
he says that the horse needs grace
needs grace, needs grace
hey wait a minute fellows
have you consider this
well anyway, it's my turn to sing
so shut up
oh really
but look at appetat
he wins it by a hair
according to this here in the telegraphy
big threat, big threat
this guy calls the horse big threat
if he calls the horse big threat
big threat, big threat
I tell you Paul Revier
now this is no bum stear
it's from my handy cap that is real sincere
I go from valentine
cause on the morning line
the guy has got him figured 5 to 9
has a chance, has a chance
the guy says the horse has a chance
Paul Revier
valentine
appatat
I got the horse right here

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Fugue For Tinhorns

I got the horse right here
His name is Paul Revier
And here's a guy who says if the weather's clear
Can do,can do
This guy says the horse can do
Can do ,can do
I'm picking valentine
Cause on the morning line
The guy has got him figured 5 to 9
Has a chance, has a chance
This guy say the horse has a chance
If he says the horse has a chance
Has a chance, has a chance
No way
For Paul Revier I'll bite
I hear his foots alright
Of course it all depends
If it rained last night
I know it's valentine
The morning word the find
Besides the jokey's brother's a friend of mind
Needs grace, needs grace
This guy says the horse needs grace
He says that the horse needs grace
Needs grace, needs grace
Hey wait a minute fellows
Have you consider this
Well anyway, it's my turn to sing
So shut up
Oh really
But look at appetat
He wins it by a hair
According to this here in the telegraphy
Big threat, big threat
This guy calls the horse big threat
If he calls the horse big threat
Big threat, big threat
I tell you Paul Revier
Now this is no bum stear
It's from my handy cap that is real sincere
I go from valentine
Cause on the morning line
The guy has got him figured 5 to 9
Has a chance, has a chance
The guy says the horse has a chance
Paul Revier
Valentine
Appatat
I got the horse right here

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A Womans Threat

My time, my patience, my love
My blood, my sweat, my tears
My burdens, my drama, my pain
My car, my money, my home
My ups, my downs, my fears
And my hours, my work, my strength
My fault, my this, my that
Nigga please
If you dont stop
(this is a warning)
Someones gonna lay in your bed
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna eat your food
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna wear your clothes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna fit your shoes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna get your keys
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna open your doors
(this is a warning)
Someones gonna get your check
(this is a warning)
This is a womans threat
Baby, this is a womans threat
My shakin, my sleep, my stress
My days, my night, my rest
My dos, my donts, my dares
And my church, my pastor, my prayers
My all, my faith, my powers
And my kitchen, my sink, my towels
My joy, my sad, my hate
And my sister, my cousin, my friends
My lights, my gas, my bills
My role, my way, my will
My hollerin, my fussin, my fights
Nigga please
If you dont stop
(this is a warning)
Someones gonna lay in your bed
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna eat your food
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna wear your clothes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna fit your shoes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna get your keys
(this is a warning)

[...] Read more

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Defending This Diminishes Quick

Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip is a crime.

Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip...
Is a crime.

And people who do nothing but sit on stoops...
With a hoop all day that's hollered,
Is crude and rude.
And children overseeing this,
Think these attitudes done...
Are cool to copy too.

Romancing what they do is sick.
And defending this diminishes quick.
Especially in the doing of it...
Is considered and respected,
As nobody's business!

Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip...
Is a crime.

And children overseeing this,
Think these attitudes done...
Are cool to copy too.
And showing them the opposite...
Will get the rolling of eyes,
And frowning lips.

Romancing what they do is sick.
And defending this diminishes quick.
Especially in the doing of it...
Is considered and respected,
As nobody's business!

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His Story

Yo, this is a story of a male female threat to society
You know being misjudged and not respected for what we are
But I want to send this special shout out to my girl tawana brawley
Cause no matter what we say or what we do
Theyll always believe his story (ow)
Chorus:
His story (yeahee, yeahee, yeahee)
Hist story (ow)
Theyre gonna believe
His story
His story
Why does it have to be that we get labeled for what we do
Its hard enough for us to be ourselves without being used
Girls have an image too
But when they get mad at you
There is no telling what theyll say to hurt you
This is a story of a male female threat to society
Why you wanna go and tell a lie on me? (yeahee, yeah, oooh)
His story over mine his story will be his story
And my story is a waste of time (aaaah-aah-aah)
Theyre gonna believe
Chorus
Sometimes I feel like there is no reason for me to explain
No matter how much we complain
You know it all stays the same
They try to call us freaks
Why does it have to be
We cant get justified until we speak up (oooh)
This is a story of a male female threat to society
Why you wanna go and tell a lie on me? (yeahee, yeah, oooh)
His story over mine his story will be his story
And my story is a waste of time (aaaah-aah-aah)
(you know its just a waste of my time)
Theyre gonna believe
His story over mine
So what you gonna do
Dont let it take over you (hey)
My story is a waste of time
Its hard enough to be ourselves without being used
So yo take it from me
Dont be a victim of society
You cant put yourself in a position to be neglected
And disrespected
You have to do whats not expected
Alright
Or all be his story
His story over mine
His story will be his story
(this is a story of) how could you do this to us
Theyre gonna believe

[...] Read more

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Oliver Goldsmith

Vida's Game Of Chess

TRANSLATED

ARMIES of box that sportively engage
And mimic real battles in their rage,
Pleased I recount; how, smit with glory's charms,
Two mighty Monarchs met in adverse arms,
Sable and white; assist me to explore,
Ye Serian Nymphs, what ne'er was sung before.
No path appears: yet resolute I stray
Where youth undaunted bids me force my way.
O'er rocks and cliffs while I the task pursue,
Guide me, ye Nymphs, with your unerring clue.
For you the rise of this diversion know,
You first were pleased in Italy to show
This studious sport; from Scacchis was its name,
The pleasing record of your Sister's fame.

When Jove through Ethiopia's parch'd extent
To grace the nuptials of old Ocean went,
Each god was there; and mirth and joy around
To shores remote diffused their happy sound.
Then when their hunger and their thirst no more
Claim'd their attention, and the feast was o'er;
Ocean with pastime to divert the thought,
Commands a painted table to be brought.
Sixty-four spaces fill the chequer'd square;
Eight in each rank eight equal limits share.
Alike their form, but different are their dyes,
They fade alternate, and alternate rise,
White after black; such various stains as those
The shelving backs of tortoises disclose.
Then to the gods that mute and wondering sate,
You see (says he) the field prepared for fate.
Here will the little armies please your sight,
With adverse colours hurrying to the fight:
On which so oft, with silent sweet surprise,
The Nymphs and Nereids used to feast their eyes,
And all the neighbours of the hoary deep,
When calm the sea, and winds were lull'd asleep
But see, the mimic heroes tread the board;
He said, and straightway from an urn he pour'd
The sculptured box, that neatly seem'd to ape
The graceful figure of a human shape:--
Equal the strength and number of each foe,
Sixteen appear'd like jet, sixteen like snow.
As their shape varies various is the name,
Different their posts, nor is their strength the same.
There might you see two Kings with equal pride
Gird on their arms, their Consorts by their side;
Here the Foot-warriors glowing after fame,

[...] Read more

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10

THE GATES of heav’n unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war,
And all th’ inferior world. From first to last, 5
The sov’reign senate in degrees are plac’d.
Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods,
Natives or denizens of blest abodes,
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,
This backward fate from what was first design’d? 10
Why this protracted war, when my commands
Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands?
What fear or hope on either part divides
Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides?
A lawful time of war at length will come, 15
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom),
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome,
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains,
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains.
Then is your time for faction and debate, 20
For partial favor, and permitted hate.
Let now your immature dissension cease;
Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace.”
Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge;
But lovely Venus thus replies at large: 25
“O pow’r immense, eternal energy,
(For to what else protection can we fly?)
Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare
In fields, unpunish’d, and insult my care?
How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, 30
In shining arms, triumphant on the plain?
Ev’n in their lines and trenches they contend,
And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend:
The town is fill’d with slaughter, and o’erfloats,
With a red deluge, their increasing moats. 35
Æneas, ignorant, and far from thence,
Has left a camp expos’d, without defense.
This endless outrage shall they still sustain?
Shall Troy renew’d be forc’d and fir’d again?
A second siege my banish’d issue fears, 40
And a new Diomede in arms appears.
One more audacious mortal will be found;
And I, thy daughter, wait another wound.
Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave,
The Latian lands my progeny receive, 45
Bear they the pains of violated law,
And thy protection from their aid withdraw.
But, if the gods their sure success foretell;
If those of heav’n consent with those of hell,
To promise Italy; who dare debate 50

[...] Read more

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I have never made a threat. I've never made a threat, never expressed a threat, never - I've never - I would never threaten violence ever, because I am a man of peace, dedicated to peace.

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My Everything

I know you take from me
I know you take away my everything
...my everything
I know your everyway
I know you make your way to everything
...into everything
I know your threat runs deep
I know you in my sleep
and all this time...
I find it hard to swallow
I know your history
I know what you mean to me
...my everything
...my everything
I know your mystery will not be clear to me
...my everything
...my everything
I know your threat runs deep
I know you in my sleep
and all this time...
I find it hard to swallow
I know your mine to keep
I know I'll always be
all this time...
I find it hard to swallow
I know you take from me
I know you take away my everything
...my everything
I know your everyway
I know you make your way to everything
...into everything
I know your threat runs deep
I know you in my sleep
and all this time...
I find it hard to swallow
I know your mine to keep
I know I'll always be
all this time...
I find it hard to swallow

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Neighborhood Threat

Pop/bowie/gardner
Down where your paint is cracking
Look down your backstairs buddy
Somebodys living there and
He dont really feel the weather
And he dont share your pleasures
No he dont share your pleasures
Did you see his eyes?
Did you see his crazy eyes?
And youre so surprised
He doesnt run to
Catch your ash
Everybody always
Wants to kiss your trash
And you cant help him
No one can
And now that he knows
Theres nothing to get
Will you still place your bet
Against the neighborhood threat
Somewhere a babys feeding
Somewhere a mothers needing
Outside her boy is trying
But mostly he is crying
Did you see his eyes?
Did you see his cray eyes?
And youre so surprised
He doesnt run to
Catch your ash
Everybody always
Wants to kiss your trash
But you cant help him
No one can
And now that he knows
Theres nothing to get
Not in this place
Not in your face
Will you still place your bet
Against the neighborhood threat
Now that he knows
Theres nothing to get
Nothing to get
Not in this place
Not in your face
Will you still place your bet
Against the neighborhood threat

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The Only Black Sheep

The black sheep sits among us.
His eyes' glisten as he waits undivided.
His ghost knows he's already here.
It whispers, 'of despair, with a chill in the air.'
Anger, begets this fear monger.
Control, and dominance.
Nothing less then absolute dictatorship, for this tyrant.
A rule with a iron fist.
The money's is his.
Multiple women with polygamous desires.
A united military is his wanted transgression.
Put down all, who threat this rule.
Destroy,
Hurt,
Rob,
Enslave,
Hate.
Humiliate,
Devastate
Those under the empires flag.
Burn It.
It's evil.

It means nothing no more.
Who are we but mere pawns?
And a new dawn is coming.
It will sit to waste human life at the face of greed and gluttony.
Those who want to buy something and don't need.
And the people who want make money off everything.
Including the air you breath.
Yeah paying for the air you breath.
Those rich companies get taxes off green house gases.
Who created them and got us hooked in the first place.
Which doesn't make any sense.
Why can't we just do something good for doing it?
Why does their have to be that catch?

The black sheep sits among us.
His eyes' glisten as he waits undivided.
His ghost knows he's already here.
It whispers, 'of despair, with a chill in the air.'
Anger, begets this fear monger.
Control, and dominance.
Nothing less then absolute dictatorship, for this tyrant.
A rule with a iron fist.
The money's is his.
Multiple women with polygamous desires.
A united military is his wanted transgression.
Put down all, who threat this rule.
Destroy,

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The Only Black Sheep (Ancient Times)

The black sheep sits among us.
His eyes' glisten as he waits undivided.
His ghost knows he's already here.
It whispers, 'of despair, with a chill in the air.'
Anger, begets this fear monger.
Control, and dominance.
Nothing less then absolute dictatorship, for this tyrant.
A rule with a iron fist.
The money's is his.
Multiple women with polygamous desires.
A united military is his wanted transgression.
Put down all, who threat this rule.
Destroy,
Hurt,
Rob,
Enslave,
Hate.
Humiliate,
Devastate
Those under the empires flag.
Burn It.
It's evil.

It means nothing no more.
Who are we but mere pawns?
And a new dawn is coming.
It will sit to waste human life at the face of greed and gluttony.
Those who want to buy something and don't need.
And the people who want make money off everything.
Including the your cattle and sheep.
Taxation without representation.
Those rich horde and sell too those who don't need.
Only one shall stand above all others.
Which doesn't make any sense.
We can't live without paying a price.
Cause life is precious.
It's not just given without consequences.

The black sheep sits among us.
His eyes' glisten as he waits undivided.
His ghost knows he's already here.
It whispers, 'of despair, with a chill in the air.'
Anger, begets this fear monger.
Control, and dominance.
Nothing less then absolute dictatorship, for this tyrant.
A rule with a iron fist.
The money's is his.
Multiple women with polygamous desires.
A united military is his wanted transgression.
Put down all, who threat this rule.

[...] Read more

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Tale I

That all men would be cowards if they dare,
Some men we know have courage to declare;
And this the life of many a hero shows,
That, like the tide, man's courage ebbs and flows:
With friends and gay companions round them, then
Men boldly speak and have the hearts of men;
Who, with opponents seated miss the aid
Of kind applauding looks, and grow afraid;
Like timid travelers in the night, they fear
Th' assault of foes, when not a friend is near.
In contest mighty, and of conquest proud,
Was Justice Bolt, impetuous, warm, and loud;
His fame, his prowess all the country knew,
And disputants, with one so fierce, were few:
He was a younger son, for law design'd,
With dauntless look and persevering mind;
While yet a clerk, for disputation famed,
No efforts tired him, and no conflicts tamed.
Scarcely he bade his master's desk adieu,
When both his brothers from the world withdrew.
An ample fortune he from them possessed,
And was with saving care and prudence bless'd.
Now would he go and to the country give
Example how an English 'squire should live;
How bounteous, yet how frugal man may be,
By well-order'd hospitality;
He would the rights of all so well maintain.
That none should idle be, and none complain.
All this and more he purposed--and what man
Could do, he did to realise his plan;
But time convinced him that we cannot keep
A breed of reasoners like a flock of sheep;
For they, so far from following as we lead,
Make that a cause why they will not proceed.
Man will not follow where a rule is shown,
But loves to take a method of his own:
Explain the way with all your care and skill,
This will he quit, if but to prove he will. -
Yet had our Justice honour--and the crowd,
Awed by his presence, their respect avow'd.
In later years he found his heart incline,
More than in youth, to gen'rous food and wine;
But no indulgence check'd the powerful love
He felt to teach, to argue, and reprove.
Meetings, or public calls, he never miss'd -
To dictate often, always to assist.
Oft he the clergy join'd, and not a cause
Pertain'd to them but he could quote the laws;
He upon tithes and residence display'd
A fund of knowledge for the hearer's aid;

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Tale XII

'SQUIRE THOMAS; OR THE PRECIPITATE CHOICE.

'Squire Thomas flatter'd long a wealthy Aunt,
Who left him all that she could give or grant;
Ten years he tried, with all his craft and skill,
To fix the sovereign lady's varying will;
Ten years enduring at her board to sit,
He meekly listen'd to her tales and wit:
He took the meanest office man can take,
And his aunt's vices for her money's sake:
By many a threat'ning hint she waked his fear,
And he was pain'd to see a rival near:
Yet all the taunts of her contemptuous pride
He bore, nor found his grov'ling spirit tried:
Nay, when she wish'd his parents to traduce,
Fawning he smiled, and justice call'd th' abuse:
'They taught you nothing: are you not at best,'
Said the proud Dame, 'a trifler, and a jest?
Confess you are a fool!'--he bow'd and he

confess'd.
This vex'd him much, but could not always last:
The dame is buried, and the trial past.
There was a female, who had courted long
Her cousin's gifts, and deeply felt the wrong;
By a vain boy forbidden to attend
The private councils of her wealthy friend,
She vow'd revenge, nor should that crafty boy
In triumph undisturb'd his spoils enjoy:
He heard, he smiled, and when the Will was read,
Kindly dismiss'd the Kindred of the dead;
'The dear deceased' he call'd her, and the crowd
Moved off with curses deep and threat'nings loud.
The youth retired, and, with a mind at ease,
Found he was rich, and fancied he must please:
He might have pleased, and to his comfort found
The wife he wish'd, if he had sought around,
For there were lasses of his own degree,
With no more hatred to the state than he;
But he had courted spleen and age so long,
His heart refused to woo the fair and young;
So long attended on caprice and whim,
He thought attention now was due to him;
And as his flattery pleased the wealthy Dame,
Heir to the wealth, he might the flattery claim:
But this the fair, with one accord, denied,
Nor waived for man's caprice the sex's pride.
There is a season when to them is due
Worship and awe, and they will claim it too:
'Fathers,' they cry, 'long hold us in their chain,

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Threats and Opportunities

Here’s three cheers
for Jon Haidt, who’s reminded us
in ‘The Happiness Hypothesis’
that our lingering primitive selves
respond more quickly to a threat
than to an opportunity…

and thus, a more powerful emotional weapon
in the hands of politicians and journalists
and others with an axe to sharpen..
while astute moneymakers, more than the rest of us,
look always for an opportunity…

so President Bush hastens to warn us
that ‘Iran remains a threat’…
and so do you, George…and
so do bananaskins, and wet leaves
on a warming sidewalk after frost…
and polar bears to garbage cans -
themselves under our human threat
from global warming…

It’s a world of threats, and threats of threats…
wars and rumours of wars, as the good book says…
maybe I should stay in today…but then
was this, then, how the West was won?
I think not

Some say, still say, that somewhere out there
there’s One who made a world
entirely of opportunities…

Meanwhile, pity politicians
in a world of spin:
if Dubbya-doh came out tomorrow
all bright-eyed and Bushy-tailed (by security men…)
and announced in upbeat tones,
‘Iran remains a golden opportunity…’
we’d all turn to each other and say,
‘What’s he up to, then? ? ’
and oil shares would fluctuate...

well, there you are… if boredom threatens at this point,
an ice-cold can of beer remains
a golden opportunity…

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2

ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
“Great queen, what you command me to relate
Renews the sad remembrance of our fate:
An empire from its old foundations rent, 5
And ev’ry woe the Trojans underwent;
A peopled city made a desart place;
All that I saw, and part of which I was:
Not ev’n the hardest of our foes could hear,
Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear. 10
And now the latter watch of wasting night,
And setting stars, to kindly rest invite;
But, since you take such int’rest in our woe,
And Troy’s disastrous end desire to know,
I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell 15
What in our last and fatal night befell.
“By destiny compell’d, and in despair,
The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war,
And by Minerva’s aid a fabric rear’d,
Which like a steed of monstrous height appear’d: 20
The sides were plank’d with pine; they feign’d it made
For their return, and this the vow they paid.
Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side
Selected numbers of their soldiers hide:
With inward arms the dire machine they load, 25
And iron bowels stuff the dark abode.
In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle
(While Fortune did on Priam’s empire smile)
Renown’d for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay,
Where ships expos’d to wind and weather lay. 30
There was their fleet conceal’d. We thought, for Greece
Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release.
The Trojans, coop’d within their walls so long,
Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng,
Like swarming bees, and with delight survey 35
The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay:
The quarters of the sev’ral chiefs they show’d;
Here Phœnix, here Achilles, made abode;
Here join’d the battles; there the navy rode.
Part on the pile their wond’ring eyes employ: 40
The pile by Pallas rais’d to ruin Troy.
Thymoetes first (’t is doubtful whether hir’d,
Or so the Trojan destiny requir’d)
Mov’d that the ramparts might be broken down,
To lodge the monster fabric in the town. 45
But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind,
The fatal present to the flames designed,
Or to the wat’ry deep; at least to bore
The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore.
The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, 50

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9

WHILE these affairs in distant places pass’d,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
To find bold Turnus, who, with anxious thought,
The secret shade of his great grandsire sought.
Retir’d alone she found the daring man, 5
And op’d her rosy lips, and thus began:
“What none of all the gods could grant thy vows,
That, Turnus, this auspicious day bestows.
Æneas, gone to seek th’ Arcadian prince,
Has left the Trojan camp without defense; 10
And, short of succors there, employs his pains
In parts remote to raise the Tuscan swains.
Now snatch an hour that favors thy designs;
Unite thy forces, and attack their lines.”
This said, on equal wings she pois’d her weight, 15
And form’d a radiant rainbow in her flight.
The Daunian hero lifts his hands and eyes,
And thus invokes the goddess as she flies:
“Iris, the grace of heav’n, what pow’r divine
Has sent thee down, thro’ dusky clouds to shine? 20
See, they divide; immortal day appears,
And glitt’ring planets dancing in their spheres!
With joy, these happy omens I obey,
And follow to the war the god that leads the way.”
Thus having said, as by the brook he stood, 25
He scoop’d the water from the crystal flood;
Then with his hands the drops to heav’n he throws,
And loads the pow’rs above with offer’d vows.
Now march the bold confed’rates thro’ the plain,
Well hors’d, well clad; a rich and shining train. 30
Messapus leads the van; and, in the rear,
The sons of Tyrrheus in bright arms appear.
In the main battle, with his flaming crest,
The mighty Turnus tow’rs above the rest.
Silent they move, majestically slow, 35
Like ebbing Nile, or Ganges in his flow.
The Trojans view the dusty cloud from far,
And the dark menace of the distant war.
Caicus from the rampire saw it rise,
Black’ning the fields, and thick’ning thro’ the skies. 40
Then to his fellows thus aloud he calls:
“What rolling clouds, my friends, approach the walls?
Arm! arm! and man the works! prepare your spears
And pointed darts! the Latian host appears.”
Thus warn’d, they shut their gates; with shouts ascend 45
The bulwarks, and, secure, their foes attend:
For their wise gen’ral, with foreseeing care,
Had charg’d them not to tempt the doubtful war,
Nor, tho’ provok’d, in open fields advance,
But close within their lines attend their chance. 50

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Death is a Threat

Death is a threat.
That almost everyone fears.
But to every beginning.
There must be an end.
Even worse is when you know.
what others dont.
Something like Death.

How do you take it?
What can you do?
How you do you live your life
until your time is due.
Forgive all your enemies.
Take each day as it comes.
If you are in a position to,
Accept your fate.
And pray before it is too late.

Death is a threat.
We hate to relent.
It visits us randomly.
There is no perceptual structure.
Don't try to analysis it for that is mental torture.
Treasure each day as you live.
Love is what you should strive to find.

Death is a threat.
To our every day life’s.
It can turn our whole world upside down.
Destinies forcefully change overnight.
Sometimes for bad or for something very right.
Your best friend leaves for ever.
Your life long dreams die when you thought never.
But it is all a test.
During which your strength manifest.
Better, dont let Death know when you are expecting it.
Or for death that will be a treat.

© Sylvia Chidi- 17 October 2005

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When

When I can no longer feel the breeze upon my skin,
When the angels in heaven have ceased to sing
The graceful melodies that they sang through my life,
When the air in my lungs can no longer sustain my lifeless self.
When the cracks had torn the wall of the Hardap Dam
And water came out gushing like an untamed horse.
When the white Brahman cow no longer comes home
And when the cows in the kraal no longer have milk.
When their milk in their ducts have turned to yellow powder
That runs out of the nipple and mocks and laughs at me
While running down the hot Kalahari sands.

When all hope is lost and the birds can no longer build their nests;
When the hour hath come.
When the hour hath come.
Me, unprepared;
Running through the streets of the old town
With houses falling apart and sinking into the sand.
The clay surrendering its self and becoming part of the soil
And me about to become part of the soil too;
Running from one block to the other, street to street, hoping to save my soul.
My soul is dangling by a threat; thin and daring;
Smiling at me as if it would care less if I were to safe it.
In the streets I call. I rage into churches like a mad man.
"Where is the priest, " I asked.
"Upstairs, " said the altar boy.

I ran upstairs, my soul hanging on a threat and me rushing to safe it.
It is funny that all these years I have lived like a pig,
Slept around like a bitch and drunk wine like it was the last time
I will ever smell its heavenly smell or feel its touch on my ravenous tongue.
I had neither wife nor children.
Life was a wild ride without stallions, but only my heart
And bodily desires guiding it in the dark and eating fruits of wisdom
And bathing in ephemeral happiness.
Now, when my heart can no longer desire and by bones have begun to crack
And the ligaments have begun to tear.
When the hour hath come, here I am.
Looking for a priest to safe my soul.

When I was about to open the door to let the priest baptize me
In the name of Christ the son of God, my heart failed me.
It skipped a heart-beat or two and stopped.
It ceased to pump and I saw her slipping on the threat, smiling at me,
Wearing a matter-of-fact smile as if she is not going to hell.
I try to utter a word or two to the priests who seems to be in complete shock.
I grope my left breast and began whining in agony
And before the priest could dip me in the holy water,
My soul was already gone.

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