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As a footballer I can't imagine life without the use of one of my legs... Sadly this is exactly what happens to thousands of children every year when they accidentally step on a landmine.

quote by Ryan Giggs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Social Netowrking Of Robots

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Imagine the World

Imagine the world ……………………….
Imagine the world without wars…
Imagine the world without your laws
Imagine your life without fear
Imagine your eyes without a tear
Imagine all men were real men
Imagine…imagine…imagine…
Imagine life without hate
Imagine you knew your own fate
Imagine all children were happy
Imagine all nations were free
What would life be like?
Imagine no-one were blind
Imagine all the woes behind
Imagine…….imagine……..imagine….
Imagi ne earth were flat
Imagine man without a heart
Imagine the day without light
Imagine the dark without the night
Imagine……….imagine……imagine……
Imagine faces without a smile
Imagine birds without a nightingale
Imagine …imagine…imagine
What would life be like?

poem by Bouche Cousue
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Imagine That

Dream...
Imagine...
Close your eyes...
Ooh...(yah)
Ooh...(next)
Ooh...(divine mill...2k3)
Ooh... (tweet)
Ooh... (r.l.)
Ooh... (and t-low)
Now I might not have
5 or 6 cars in my garage
But would you settle for a nice massage
And the love of a lifetime
Girl...
I swear to God that
With a whole lot of love
And little bit of faith
That we can make it
You just gotta believe that...
We could roll till the wheels fall off (and)
Imma love you till my souls gone on (cause)
It can happen, baby, just hold on
Close your eyes and dream (and imagine that)
Imagine that smile ever leavin your face
Comin home from work and never leavin the place
Got chocolates and champagne just for you to taste
(close your eyes)
Close your eyes, girl, imagine that
Imagine benzes in the parkin lot
A different chauffeur for every car you got
Islands to settle on a private yacht (just close your eyes)
Close your eyes, girl, imagine that
I know you deserve
More than I got right now
But baby, theres no doubt
cause youve always stayed down
I swear to God that
With a whole lot of love
And a little bit of faith
That we can make it
You just gotta believe that
We could roll till the wheels fall off (and)
Imma love you till my souls gone on (hey)
It can happen, baby, just hold on
Close your eyes and dream (and imagine that)
Imagine that smile ever leavin your face
Comin home from work and never leavin the place
Got chocolate and champagne just for you to taste
(close your eyes)
Close your eyes, girl, imagine that (and imagine that)

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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Imagine That

Imagine That
Close your eyes...
Now relax your mind...
Now I want you to picture yourself
Far, far away
(You know your thoughts inside, girl we're 'bout to take a ride)
I don't want you to have a care in the world right now
(Let it go, let it go, let it go, aw yeah)
It's just you... and me
In this moment
Quiet... listen...
Baby take your mind into a zone
Imagine that we're all alone
2-way's off and our friends are gone
Now picture you and me gettin' it on
Take my hand and come with me
Let's indulge in fantasies
Cast your cares and worries
And slowly fall into this ecstasy
I'm gonna rub your body so baby just relax
You've been pourin' out your lovin' and now it's time to pour it back
Imagine that
Imagine that, imagine that, imagine that, imagine (all night long)
Imagine that
Me strokin' your body, imagine that
Imagine that, imagine that, imagine that, imagine (ohh-ho)
Imagine that
Whipped cream and strawberries, know what I mean?
Imagine that, imagine that, imagine that, imagine (ohh-ohh)
Imagine that
Candles and oils surrounding the bed
Imagine that, imagine that, imagine that, imagine (ohh-ho)
Imagine that
And me kissin' your body from feet to head
Imagine that
We don't have to talk
Ohh lay your body here, and watch my fingers walk
Take a second... and imagine the opportunity
You and me sharin' sexual energy
Now girl just meditate on you bein' in this chair
Now close your eyes and act like we're not even here
Girl I'm gonna rub your body so baby just relax
You've been pourin' out your lovin' and now it's time to pour it back
Imagine...
Ima

song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Gaberlunzie's Walk

The Laird is dead, the laird is dead,
An' dead is cousin John,
His henchmen ten, an' his sax merrie men,
Forbye the steward's son.

An' his ain guid gray that he strode sae gay
When hunt was up an' on,
An' the win' blew fair, an' the grews pu'd sair,
An' dawn was on Maol-don,
An' the skeigh steeds neigh'd, an' the slot-hounds bay'd,
An' up gaed the mornin' sun,
An' awa' gaed the deer wi' the merrie men's cheer,
Awa' owre the auld Maol-don,
An' awa' wi' a shout ran the rabble an' the rout,
An' awa' rode cousin John,
Wi' his horn, his horn, thro' the merry merry morn,
His hunter's horn sae shrill!
An' 't was 'Ho, heigho, hereawa',
Hereawa', hereawa'!
Ho, heigho, hereawa'!'
A' roun' the hill!

Walie! walie! they're a' gane dead,
A' owre the seas an' awa'
The laird an' his men, the sax an' the ten,
They gaed to fight and to fa'.
An' walie, an' wae, an' hech! the weary day!
The laird is dead an' a'!

A' in ae grave by the margent o' the wave
Thegither they lay doun,
Sax feet deep, where dead men sleep,
A' i' the faeman's grun'.

Foremost i' the van, wi' his bagpipes i' his han',
The steward's ae braw son,
An' next the young laird-gin the guid Lord had spared!-
A' as he led them on,
Wi' his bonnie brow bare an' his lang fair hair,
An' his bluidy braid-sword drawn;
An' hard by his chief, that in life was sae lief,
In death cam cousin John,
Wi' his horn, his horn, thro' the merry merry morn,
His hunter's horn sae shrill
When 't was 'Ho, heigho, hereawa',
Hereawa', hereawa'!'

[...] Read more

poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Let The Children Speak

Time - way out of line
A whole nation waits outside
The rhythm of tomorrow
They can dance away their sorrows tonight
Lost - broken and scarred
Prisoner waits outside with his lone heart beating
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Let the children - let the children speak
Aims - dangerous games
Their mother says one false move and we all get hurt
I feel this sense of power I feel it every hour tonight
Lets not get lazy tonight
Things could get crazy cos
One more kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Im begging you now let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Lets not get lazy tonight
Things could get crazy cos
One last kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Things could get crazy tonight
Lets not get lazy cos
One last kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Im begging you now
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
The language of this world
Lets not get lazy cos
One false move and we all get hurt
Let the children, let the children

[...] Read more

song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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Must --ness

only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.

poem by Nyein Way
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Imagine A Man

Imagine a man
Not a child of any revolt
Imagine a man
But a plain man tied up in life
Imagine the sand
Imagine a man
Running out as he struts
Not a child of any revolt
Parading and fading, ignoring his wife
But a plain man tied up in life
Imagine a road
Imagine the sand
So long looking backwards
Running out as he struts
You cant see where it really began
Parading and fading, ignoring his wife
Imagine a load
Imagine a road
So large and so smooth
So long looking backwards
That against it a man is an ant
You cant see where it really began
Then you will see the end
Imagine a load
You will see the end
So large and so smooth
That against it a man is an ant
Imagine events
That occur everyday
Then you will see the end
Like a shooting or raping or a simple act of deceit
You will see the end
Imagine a fence
Imagine events
Around you as high as prevention
That occur everyday
Casting shadows, you cant see your feet
Like a shooting or raping or a simple act of deceit
Imagine a girl
Imagine a fence
You long for and have
Around you as high as prevention
And the body of chalky perfection and truth
Casting shadows, you cant see your feet
Imagine a past
Imagine a girl
Where you wish you had lived
With long, flowing hair
Full of heroes and villians and fools
And the body of chalky perfection and truth

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Next Step

I wanna go up where something matters
I wanna blow up where matter scatters
I wanna live into the future
I want to give... more girl
Next step
No side stepping this time
Cross over life on the line
One thing to talk big
Go to follow thru
All set
Got to get past the present too
Dont want to reach out for yesterday
Dont want to block the shock of the new
I wanna see what new love will bring
Im gonna give all that love to you
Whats the next step
My mind is open wide
Next step
Whatll be the next step baby
Whats the next step
Im finished with the past
Next step
Wont be the last step baby
You wanna wake up with me beside you
You wanna shake off bad thoughts inside you
Were gonna walk on into tomorrow
Were gonna have more fun now
Dont look around for yesterday
No blocking out the shock of the new
Do you wanna see what new love can bring
Im gonna give all that love to you
Whats the next step
My mind is open wide
Next step
Whatll be the next step baby
Whats the next step
I havent got a clue
Next step
Wanna make the next step with you
Whats the next step
Gonna take it gonna take it
Next step
Gonna step right
Wont step back
Whats the next step
No bad songs
No bad songs
Next step
Say hey
Dont you want to take the next step

[...] Read more

song performed by Hall & Oates
Added by Lucian Velea
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Enoch Arden

Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm;
And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands;
Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf
In cluster; then a moulder'd church; and higher
A long street climbs to one tall-tower'd mill;
And high in heaven behind it a gray down
With Danish barrows; and a hazelwood,
By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes
Green in a cuplike hollow of the down.

Here on this beach a hundred years ago,
Three children of three houses, Annie Lee,
The prettiest little damsel in the port,
And Philip Ray the miller's only son,
And Enoch Arden, a rough sailor's lad
Made orphan by a winter shipwreck, play'd
Among the waste and lumber of the shore,
Hard coils of cordage, swarthy fishing-nets,
Anchors of rusty fluke, and boats updrawn,
And built their castles of dissolving sand
To watch them overflow'd, or following up
And flying the white breaker, daily left
The little footprint daily wash'd away.

A narrow cave ran in beneath the cliff:
In this the children play'd at keeping house.
Enoch was host one day, Philip the next,
While Annie still was mistress; but at times
Enoch would hold possession for a week:
`This is my house and this my little wife.'
`Mine too' said Philip `turn and turn about:'
When, if they quarrell'd, Enoch stronger-made
Was master: then would Philip, his blue eyes
All flooded with the helpless wrath of tears,
Shriek out `I hate you, Enoch,' and at this
The little wife would weep for company,
And pray them not to quarrel for her sake,
And say she would be little wife to both.

But when the dawn of rosy childhood past,
And the new warmth of life's ascending sun
Was felt by either, either fixt his heart
On that one girl; and Enoch spoke his love,
But Philip loved in silence; and the girl
Seem'd kinder unto Philip than to him;
But she loved Enoch; tho' she knew it not,
And would if ask'd deny it. Enoch set
A purpose evermore before his eyes,
To hoard all savings to the uttermost,
To purchase his own boat, and make a home

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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No Step

I looked out of my window, saw a stencil black,
No step. no step.
There were nervous mothers with children crying in the back.
No step. no step.
Someone bought me my ticket, now Im on the wing.
Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing?
No step. no step.
Those afterburners cut in and kicked us high.
No step. no step.
The thin air shimmered, the sun cut through and burned my eye.
No step. no step.
Someone bought me my ticket, now Im on the wing.
Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing?
No step.
No step no step.
No step no step.
No step no step.
Give me a jet stream schooner or a crew-legged goose.
No step. no step.
Im a clear-air jockey when they turn me loose
No step. no step.
Someone bought me my ticket to the captains seat.
Will the shakes soon leave me, will I find my feet?
No step. no step.
No step. no step.
No step.

song performed by Jethro Tull
Added by Lucian Velea
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Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,--
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

PART THE FIRST

I

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Why Do Children Of The Poor

Why do children of the poor die so readily?
By the age of five
they're already disarmed for life.
Is money a gene they're missing?
Or is their suffering
just a diminished immunity to the rest of us?
The gluttons of knowledge
discuss James Joyce in a loud voice
in well-lit universities.
With great nuance and finesse
they enumerate the seven kinds of ambiguity
and the mean diameter of the vowel O
in the context of neo-Chicago Aristotelianism
in the latter plays of Shakespeare
where the commas fall like worms
out of every page of his art
as if he couldn't punctuate
the death-rage in his heart
with the subtler points
of the neo-critical literati.
I think Shakespeare would have seen
the sterling irony
of debating proto-Nostratic linguistics
while living children all around him
can't read their names in their own mother-tongue.
If the same word for oak
was the word we used for door
when we all learned to speak the same language
milennia ago
it's not hard to imagine
given modern advances in communication
that the word for child
that we used way back then
is the root of the word we use for atrocity today.
Why do the children of the poor die so readily?
Nature or nurture?
Is it because the children of the rich
are taught that wealth is longevity
and the children of the poor
who can't read the fine print
bleed to death like expired medical plans?
Why do the rich think that the poor
are the reason their children suffer
and the best thing to do is make orphans of them
by sending the poor of one nation
to war against another
to keep the economy growing
and cut back on the unemployed
like deer culled from a budget in hunting season?
If you're a child born from this womb

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Baby Step Back

Now it looks to me like the same old place
In the sky it looks like rain
The same old town with the same old streets
The address has not change
You can find me there
With the door shut tight
And the one wish that remains
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
No you know I dont write no bad checks
I have no wish to repent
Ive seen a few
But whatever I do
I dont cause no accidents
Whiskey and wine help me pass the time
I dont leave no evidence
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Still I dont kneel down
I was born to fight
So youd best leave me alone
Maybe Ill get much more than I need
Or much less than I should own
Last of all let me say it again
Either step up or step on
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Baby walk back baby walk back
Either walk on or walk back
Baby step back ...

song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hot Legs

(rod stewart)
Whos that knocking on my door
Its gotta be a quarter to four
Is it you again coming round for more
Well you can love me tonight if you want
But in the morning make sure youre gone
Im talkin to you
Hot legs, wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, are you still in school
I love you honey
Gotta most persuasive tongue
You promise all kinds of fun
But what you dont understand
Im a working man
Gonna need a shot of vitamin e
By the time youre finished with me
Im talking to you
Hot legs, youre an alley cat
Hot legs, you scratch my back
Hot legs, bring your mother too
I love you honey
Imagine how my daddy felt
In your jet black suspender belt
Seventeen years old
Hes touching sixty four
You got legs right up to your neck
Youre making me a physical wreck
Im talking to you
Hot legs, in your satin shoes
Hot legs, are you still in school
Hot legs, youre making me a fool
I love you honey
Hot legs, making your mark
Hot legs, keep my pencil sharp
Hot legs, keep your hands to yourself
I love you honey
Hot legs, youre wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, youre still in school
I love you honey

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Stone Cold Entrance Song

*glass shatters*
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
V Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, dont run away, bring it on straight to me!
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside dont run away, bring it on straight to me!.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Step up! cause youre the next one in line for the kill. you dont believe me but Im betting that you will.
Step up! Ill let you live a little bit with the pain that I bring. you know its only the beginning.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside you, something and someone to hide you.
Im breaking the living inside, dont run away, bring it on straight to me!

song performed by Disturbed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

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poem by Coventry Patmore
Added by Poetry Lover
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An Explanation of America: A Love of Death

Imagine a child from Virginia or New Hampshire
Alone on the prairie eighty years ago
Or more, one afternoon—the shaggy pelt
Of grasses, for the first time in that child’s life,
Flowing for miles. Imagine the moving shadow
Of a cloud far off across that shadeless ocean,
The obliterating strangeness like a tide
That pulls or empties the bubble of the child’s
Imaginary heart. No hills, no trees.

The child’s heart lightens, tending like a bubble
Towards the currents of the grass and sky,
The pure potential of the clear blank spaces.

Or, imagine the child in a draw that holds a garden
Cupped from the limitless motion of the prairie,
Head resting against a pumpkin, in evening sun.
Ground-cherry bushes grow along the furrows,
The fruit red under its papery, moth-shaped sheath.
Grasshoppers tumble among the vines, as large
As dragons in the crumbs of pale dry earth.
The ground is warm to the child’s cheek, and the wind
Is a humming sound in the grass above the draw,
Rippling the shadows of the red-green blades.
The bubble of the child’s heart melts a little,
Because the quiet of that air and earth
Is like the shadow of a peaceful death—
Limitless and potential; a kind of space
Where one dissolves to become a part of something
Entire ... whether of sun and air, or goodness
And knowledge, it does not matter to the child.
Dissolved among the particles of the garden
Or into the motion of the grass and air,
Imagine the child happy to be a thing.

Imagine, then, that on that same wide prairie
Some people are threshing in the terrible heat
With horses and machines, cutting bands
And shoveling amid the clatter of the threshers,
The chaff in prickly clouds and the naked sun
Burning as if it could set the chaff on fire.
Imagine that the people are Swedes or Germans,
Some of them resting pressed against the strawstacks,
Trying to get the meager shade.
A man,
A tramp, comes laboring across the stubble
Like a mirage against that blank horizon,
Laboring in his torn shoes toward the tall
Mirage-like images of the tilted threshers
Clattering in the heat. Because the Swedes

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Pinsky
Added by Poetry Lover
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