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Those who corrupt the public mind are just as evil as those who steal from the public purse.

quote by Adlai E. Stevenson
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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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Ya'll

Y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
Some of y'all niggas tryna steal my style
I think y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
What you gone do next try and steal my smile
Some of y'all niggas tryna steal my style
I think y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
What you gone do next try and steal my smile

Y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
Remember in I-5 you couldn't feel my style
Remember when y'all said you ain't nuttin but a kid
Y'all said I wouldn't make it
Hey but I did
Remember when y'all said me and hump ain't workin'
Just check the driveway nigga we ain't hurtin'
I bet y'all niggas never take a bank style
It ain't my fault that yo group ain't high
It ain't my fault that you can't do shows
Either we movin' to fast or y'all movin' to slow
Now why you wanna go out and make me mad
If you drop another album you gone make me laugh

Cause y'all niggas tryna steal my style
Some of y'all niggas tryna steal my style
I think y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
What you gone do next try and steal my smile
Y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
Some of y'all niggas tryna steal my style
I think y'all niggaz tryna steal my style
What you gone do next try and steal my smile

Buy the car
Buy the house
Remember that
That was me
Diamonds all in yo face
Remember that
That was me and C
Southside still holdin'
Me

song performed by Lil' Flip from The Leprechaun
Added by Lucian Velea
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Do Not Steal

Do not steal another’s name;
Do not steal your neighbor’s fame;
Do not steal next person’s house;
Do not steal someone’s spouse.

Do not steal one’s money;
Do not steal someone’s honey;
Do not steal other’s labor;
Do not steal things from neighbor.

Do not steal another’s job;
Do not steal from poorer mob;
Do not steal next man’s limelight;
Do not steal another’s might.

Do not steal another’s health;
Do not steal your neighbor’s wealth.
Do not steal next person’s praise;
Do not steal from human race.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-20-2008

poem by John Celes
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Drop Kick That Evil

We've got to get together and defeat the beast that eats...
Any remnants of peace!
That beast wants to cease a potential feasting of peace,
Released.
And this keeps a people teased by evil.

We've got to get together on collective feet.
And march together in a harmonized beat.
To sweep away the preaching of what's evil.

Drop kick that evil.
Like a football kicked right over a goal.
Drop kick that evil.
Don't leave it in your hands to hold.
To get tackled and crushed up.
Laying flat on a knocked out butt.

We've got to get together and defeat the beast that eats...
Any remnants of peace!
We've got to get together on collective feet.
And march together in a harmonized beat.
To sweep away the preaching of what's evil.

Drop kick that evil.
Like a football kicked right over a goal.
Drop kick that evil.
Don't leave it in your hands to hold...
To get your butt dumped on!

That beast wants to cease a potential feasting of peace,
Released.
And this keeps a people teased by evil.
Drop kick that evil.

There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

Drop kick that evil.
There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

Drop kick that evil.
There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Evil, I Call You!

Evil, I am calling!
Evil, do you hear?
Evil, I’m imploring!
Please – I beg your ear!

Evil, I beseech you Sir!
Evil, be you near?
Evil, might you spare some time?
Please – you must appear!

Deep in barren ground I feel a rumble and a quake:
Evil stirs beneath me now – oh how the earth doth shake!
Dark begins retreating back and gives to eerie glow:
Light of hues appeal to mind in glory of His show!

I, so truly worthy, view Evil’s phosphorescence!
I, so truly honoured, scent Evil’s rancid essence!

Whenceforth He rose – ‘twas Evil’s phantasm!
Climax unfolds in Evil’s orgasm!

He lowered His sight to peer my form
From orbits sunk in fiery storm.
Incredulous now, and twice in awe, I
Harkened close to Evil’s roar:

‘I Evil, appear at your request!
Pray tell, of what is thine behest!

Your say must be bold, for you do not run, and
You’re evil enough – is my work not done?
So speak of your wanting, my impious serf,
To hail my cathedral so deep in this earth. ’

I pulled up with pride and pushed out my chest:

‘Though I be Man in all his great fame,
My evil is lacking – my damage is lame –
I crave for the power that you can instill, to
Heighten my evil and drive up the thrill! '

Evil stared in disbelief:
Could I see a trace of grief?

‘I, Evil, must say unto you:
I see wars of destruction – both savage and wild –
People lay dying – that’s woman and child!
All of mankind lay poisoned and green
From virus of hatred – oh this I have seen!
You fight and you kill and maim animals and all:

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Hes Evil

Scene: a party political broadcast -- mr. black and his followers
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind.
Hes got style, personality,
But hes the devil in reality.
Hell make you laugh, make you smile,
And make you feel good for a while.
Wicked smile, decadent grin,
He likes school girls, nuns and virgins.
His skin is soft but his mind is hard,
Hell lead you on then hell tear you apart.
Hell treat you rough and he will make you cry,
And you will kiss sweet innocence good-bye.
And once youre in therell be no getting out,
So look out, look out, look out, look out.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes got wit hes got charm.
But when he gets rough hell break your arm.
Hes got taste, manners and grace,
But when he gets tough hell slit your face.
Hell buy you jewels, expensive clothes,
Then his mindll go and hell bust your nose.
Hes a joker and a clown
But hell pervert you and drag you down.
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind,
He is just the devil in disguise.
He will drag you down and he will make you cry,
And once youre in there will be no getting out.
So look out, look out, look out.
Look out, look out, look out.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Publicly You Treat Me Evil

You don't have to be,
Pleasing and sweet.
But publicly...
You treat me evil.

In private you are so adored.
And I am sure...
You-are-my-equal.

But on the streets,
You then deceive.
You have a need,
To treat me evil.

Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.

Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.

But publicly,
You treat me evil.
People see,
You treat me evil.

Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
To be evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.
But...
Pub licly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Treat me evil!
But...
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son

Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,
Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!
Quenched youth, and is that thy purse?
Even such limp slough as the snake has left
Slack to the gale upon spikes of whin,
For cast-off coat of a life gone blank,
In its frame of a grin at the seeker, is thine;
And thine to crave and to curse
The sweet thing once within.
Accuse him: some devil committed the theft,
Which leaves of the portly a skin,
No more; of the weighty a whine.

Pursue him: and first, to be sure of his track,
Over devious ways that have led to this,
In the stream's consecutive line,
Let memory lead thee back
To where waves Morning her fleur-de-lys,
Unflushed at the front of the roseate door
Unopened yet: never shadow there
Of a Tartarus lighted by Dis
For souls whose cry is, alack!
An ivory cradle rocks, apeep
Through his eyelashes' laugh, a breathing pearl.
There the young chief of the animals wore
A likeness to heavenly hosts, unaware
Of his love of himself; with the hours at leap.
In a dingle away from a rutted highroad,
Around him the earliest throstle and merle,
Our human smile between milk and sleep,
Effervescent of Nature he crowed.
Fair was that season; furl over furl
The banners of blossom; a dancing floor
This earth; very angels the clouds; and fair
Thou on the tablets of forehead and breast:
Careless, a centre of vigilant care.
Thy mother kisses an infant curl.
The room of the toys was a boundless nest,
A kingdom the field of the games,
Till entered the craving for more,
And the worshipped small body had aims.
A good little idol, as records attest,
When they tell of him lightly appeased in a scream
By sweets and caresses: he gave but sign
That the heir of a purse-plumped dominant race,
Accustomed to plenty, not dumb would pine.
Almost magician, his earliest dream
Was lord of the unpossessed
For a look; himself and his chase,
As on puffs of a wind at whirl,

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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Live no evil

Say no evil; refraining to bring even the most
inconspicuous of hatred to your immaculately divine
lips,
See no evil; closing your eyes as they lecherously
wandered; casting their diabolical glimpse upon
innocuous entities trespassing through this mighty
planet,
Propagate no evil; disseminating only philanthropic
benevolence from your palms; in every entity you
encountered; during your impoverished existence upon
Mother Earth,
Hear no evil; basking only in the glory of melodiously
captivating sound; gushing like an untamed whirlwind
to the faintest cry of your fellow comrades in
inexplicable distress,
Sing no evil; chopping your tongue to an infinite bits
of inconspicuous ash; the instant it uttered things
against God’s most enthrallingly mesmerizing planet,
Patronize no evil; harboring only the irrefutable
essence of celestial peace profoundly within your
magnanimous soul; blatantly ostracizing those who
condemned wonderful humanity,
Fantasize no evil; drifting the intriguing chords of
your brain towards a land more enchanting than
paradise; the instant the devil tried capsizing it
from all sides,
Philosophize no evil; tirelessly browsing through only
textbooks of charismatic mankind; immortalizing its
spirit till even centuries after; you relinquished
breath and died,
Shield no evil; audaciously vanquishing every single
trace of malice from the gloomy interiors of your
dwelling; substituting it with an everlasting stream
on perpetual love,
Paint no evil; using your fingers to uplift tyrannized
humanity; sketching with them an infinite myriad of
shapes; that profusely enlightened disastrously
devastated lives,
Chase no evil; indefatigably embarking upon a mission
to save earth from bloodshed; evacuate the most
inconspicuous iota of treachery from the complexion of
satanic soil,
Eat no evil; relishing the fruits of freedom every
moment of your diminutive life; escalating higher than
the rhapsodic clouds with your comrades by your
majestic side,
Transcend no evil; perennially existing beneath the
blessings of the Omnisciently divine; savoring as well
diffusing harmonious happiness; to every iota of this
boundlessly beautiful planet,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Evil That Dwells Within

I see faces that walk past me, And a shadow that stands beside me, I see you and the evil sees me.

When I am alone the evil always calls to me, The evil whispers to me but only inside my head, The evil is always around me and influencing my hatred of others.

The evil so frighting that others would flee from it but I find A new view of life with it, When good should envelope me the evil burns it away from me. I have no room for your pathetic lies and excuses this evil inside me is all I need.

It never judges only befriends me, I hate it but I wish to love it, With the evil that dwells within I can do anything and not fear anything or anyone, Speak my mind with decision I have not found my religion. God was never there but the evil that fills me.

I am angry and always seem to be, Only A few are selected to see the good in me, Others will have to deal with the evil that stands beside me, People judged to many times and now my mind is full of hatred, Burning my feelings and spitting on me.

I have never been bullied but people do it visually by glaring at me, Not my popular friends but the ones who don't know me, I hate you and wish to see you feel the evil within me, But I will not release it because it would make A scene.

When my time is right and Satan depicts and calls back the evil within me, Than I will be free. I am to young to live this way but feel I need to be to teach me a lesson, By doing it carefully. My friends Don't know the way I view things because I hide it like I have hid everything, I am close to them but still the evil seems to follow me.

Some days are worse when the evil influences everyone around me and they seem to turn it all on me, they can't contain my evil like I can contain it, The evil is powerful but not more powerful than me, But the evil can change my mood faster than a bullet can kill an enemy.

My mood changes and all I see is Red and Blasphemy, Go into a dark fit that is inside me, Brings up my anger and hatred that I feel towards others. Can't stop the anger from rising but it is all I can do to strive and fight the feelings inside me.

I gain control and the evil will never take hold, It follows me and is the shadow beside me.

poem by Connor Whyte
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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People Evil Leave A Permanent Stain

People evil leave a permanent stain...
Felt like nothing other.
People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever this is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains,
With a paining that continues...
Sustaining and to drain.

People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever it is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
And we do this with a wish,
It is the best that we can do.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

People evil leave a permanent stain...
Felt like nothing other.
People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever this is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains,
With a paining that continues...
Sustaining and to drain.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Change Your Mind

When you get weak, and you need to test your will
When lifes complete, but theres something missing still
Distracting you from this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Distracting you (change your mind)
Supporting you (change your mind)
Embracing you (change your mind)
Convincing you (change your mind)
When youre confused and the world has got you down
When you feel used and you just cant play the clown
Protecting you from this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Protecting you (change your mind)
Restoring you (change your mind)
Revealing you (change your mind)
Soothing you (change your mind)
You hear the sound, you wait around and get the word
You see the picture changing everything youve heard
Destroying you with this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Destroying you (change your mind)
Embracing you (change your mind)
Protecting you (change your mind)
Confining you (change your mind)
Distracting you (change your mind)
Supporting you (change your mind)
Distorting you (change your mind)
Controlling you (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
The morning comes and theres an odor in the room
The scent of love, more than a million roses bloom
Embracing you with this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Embracing you (change your mind)
Concealing you (change your mind)
Protecting you (change your mind)
Revealing you (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind
Change your mind
Change your mind, change your mind

[...] Read more

song performed by Neil Young
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Evil Saga

----
This Evil
----
This evil inside of me
Is trying get out.
It wants pain,
It wants misery.

I can't fight it,
I can't hide it.
No, No, No!

Freedom,
Terminal fate is coming.
It's nightmare is stunning.
Heathen,
The darkness in my head
Sees you all dead.
Pagan,
Ritual sacrifice
Going on tonight.

Civilizations predict the end of the world,
But death is too easy an out for us all.
This evil will test our might
It will make us suffer, make us fall.

I can't fight it,
I can't hide it.
No, No, No!

----
He Cried Evil
----

'Dark mind proposes a question,
Voices in his head form a suggestion
'I'll kill them all, ' he said to them.'

His desperate soul and his lonely heart
Screamed into the night.
Preying on ignorant fools and greedy buffoons,
He said he'd make it right.

It was his obsession
To see their final expression.
He had to teach them a lesson.

He Cried Evil!
He Cried Evil!

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poem by Timothy Lee Hollandsworth Jr.
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Book III - Part 02 - Nature And Composition Of The Mind

First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call
The intellect, wherein is seated life's
Counsel and regimen, is part no less
Of man than hand and foot and eyes are parts
Of one whole breathing creature. But some hold
That sense of mind is in no fixed part seated,
But is of body some one vital state,-
Named "harmony" by Greeks, because thereby
We live with sense, though intellect be not
In any part: as oft the body is said
To have good health (when health, however, 's not
One part of him who has it), so they place
The sense of mind in no fixed part of man.
Mightily, diversly, meseems they err.
Often the body palpable and seen
Sickens, while yet in some invisible part
We feel a pleasure; oft the other way,
A miserable in mind feels pleasure still
Throughout his body- quite the same as when
A foot may pain without a pain in head.
Besides, when these our limbs are given o'er
To gentle sleep and lies the burdened frame
At random void of sense, a something else
Is yet within us, which upon that time
Bestirs itself in many a wise, receiving
All motions of joy and phantom cares of heart.
Now, for to see that in man's members dwells
Also the soul, and body ne'er is wont
To feel sensation by a "harmony"
Take this in chief: the fact that life remains
Oft in our limbs, when much of body's gone;
Yet that same life, when particles of heat,
Though few, have scattered been, and through the mouth
Air has been given forth abroad, forthwith
Forever deserts the veins, and leaves the bones.
Thus mayst thou know that not all particles
Perform like parts, nor in like manner all
Are props of weal and safety: rather those-
The seeds of wind and exhalations warm-
Take care that in our members life remains.
Therefore a vital heat and wind there is
Within the very body, which at death
Deserts our frames. And so, since nature of mind
And even of soul is found to be, as 'twere,
A part of man, give over "harmony"-
Name to musicians brought from Helicon,-
Unless themselves they filched it otherwise,
To serve for what was lacking name till then.
Whate'er it be, they're welcome to it- thou,
Hearken my other maxims.

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poem by Lucretius
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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.

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal

Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.

First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?

Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;

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poem by Lucretius
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