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Regulations grow at the same rate as weeds.

quote by Norman Ralph Augustine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grow

Grow.
Difficult it is.
And in the doing,
It is magical too.
If you,
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.

Slow and determine,
To acquire knowledge.
And not upon it sit.

Become more inquisitive...
About life as it exists.

Don't permit,
Given criticisms to stop your quest.
The more that is learned,
The more of them...
May just manifest.

Grow.

It will become easy to be embittered,
By all that appears stagnant.
But a patience that develops,
Will within you begin to navigate...
Over obstacles and things that irritate.

You can and will,
Grow.
Show it with defined purpose.
Grow.
Don't fear ignorance.
Grow.
Overcome it like hopping a fence.
You can and will,
Grow.
Don't sit and bemoan your fate.
Grow.
Ignorance is not bliss.
Grow,
Ignorance can twist,
An unconscious mind into bits!

You can and will,
Grow.
Like a flower that blooms.
And reaches towards the sky.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Now That Youre Gone

(bernard edwards/nile rodgers)
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
Im living my life all alone
Or hit by a blow
To my pride
But Im doing ok
I wont let you see
What this has done to me
I guess Ill just take it in stride
Come what may
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
How can one do what should be done by two
I guess thats a crazy question to ask
I might seem happy
But dont be fooled by my appearance
Make no mistake
Im just wearing a mask
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long

[...] Read more

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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Life Like Weeds

In this life like weeds youre just a rock to me
Youre just a rock to me, youre just a rock to me
I could have told you all that I love you
And in the places you go, youll see the place where youre from
I could have told you all that I love you
But in the faces you meet, youll see the place where youll die
I could have told you all that I love you
And on the day that you die youll see the people you met
I could have told you all that I love you
And in the faces you see, youll see just who youve been
I wish I could have told you I love you
In this life like weeds eyes need us to see
Hearts need us to bleed
In this life like weeds youre a rock to me
I know where youre from
But where do you belong?
In this life like weeds youre the good I breed
In this life like weeds youre a rock to me
In this life like weeds youre a rock to me
I know where youre from
But where do you belong?
In this life like weeds eyes need us to see
Hearts need us to bleed
In this life like weeds youre the good I breed
All this talking all the time of the year
Fills up until theres nothing left to breathe
And you think you feel most everything
And you know that our hearts are just made out of strings
To be pulled
Strings to be pulled
So you think youve figured out everything
But we know that our hearts are just made out of strings
To be pulled
Strings to be pulled
All this talking all the time, and the air
Fills up until theres nothing left to breathe
Up until theres nothing left to speak
Up into the better parts of space

song performed by Modest Mouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lift Me Up Like You've Plucked a Buttercup

When you come around finding you have found,
You've settled down.
With slowed jets ready to quit your lippin'
And prepared to sit and begin to listen'...
You've done shifted from a drifter position.
And it's there to be gripped!
All that life has blessed you with!
ooo-ooo

Many in fits can't handle what they get.
And they seek partnerships...
That end in arguments,
Gone ballistic.
Left in realistic lethal pieces.

Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.

Just leave don't mention...
Any attitude you've got,
That's dropped you mopin'!
Take a little whiff of me I'll free you easy.
I'm that destiny you need.

Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.

When you come around finding you have found,
You've settled down.
With slowed jets ready to quit your lippin'
And prepared to sit and begin to listen'...
You've done shifted from a drifter position.
And it's there to be gripped!
All that life has blessed you with!
ooo-ooo

Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tannhauser

The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.

[...] Read more

poem by Emma Lazarus
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 13)

Out of the house, then Jesus went
That day, and by the sea, sat down;
Large crowds had gathered around Him
So, sat He in a boat off-shore,
While crowds were standing on the shore.

He spoke in detailed parables:
‘A sower, went to sow, one day,
Some seeds fell on the path, he walked
And birds ate them up, all at once.’

‘Some fell on rocky ground without
Soil adequate and sprouted but,
The soil wasn’t deep and sun that rose
Had scorched while it withered, rootless.’

‘Some seeds had fallen amidst thorns,
And with the passing of the morns,
The faster growing thorns choked them,
And there remained, just stubs of stem! ’

‘Just some seeds fell on soil-rich ground;
They grew so well and it was found
That they produced fruits many-fold
A hundred / sixty / thirty-fold! ’

‘Those who have ears, then ought to hear! ’
His disciples then questioned Him,
‘Why speak to them in parables? ’

And Jesus told them, in reply:
The kingdom’s knowledge. mystery
To you, has been by God granted,
And not to others by the Lord.’

‘To one who has, given is more;
And richer will he always grow;
From those that have a little then,
Ev’n that will be away taken.’

‘In parables, I speak, that’s why
Because they look but cannot pry
They hear but don’t to them pay heed
Nor do they understand the need.’

Isaiah’s prophecy’s fulfilled;
Though you hear, you understand not.
Indeed they look but dot see.’

‘The hearts of people are so gross,

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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Now Im A Farmer

Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
My old horse is weary but sincerely
My old horse is weary but sincerely
I believe that he can pull a plough
I believe that he can pull a plough
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
To grow my own food
To grow my own food
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
That stretched as far as the eye can see
That stretched as far as the eye can see
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Buys my corn from me immediately
Buys my corn from me immediately
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Now look here son
Now look here son

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II

THE ARGUMENT

The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.

THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto III

THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and squire's prodigious Flight
To quit th' inchanted Bow'r by Night.
He plods to turn his amorous Suit
T' a Plea in Law, and prosecute
Repairs to Counsel, to advise
'Bout managing the Enterprise;
But first resolves to try by Letter,
And one more fair Address, to get her.

WHO wou'd believe what strange bugbears
Mankind creates itself of fears
That spring like fern, that insect weed,
Equivocally, without seed;
And have no possible foundation,
But merely in th' imagination;
And yet can do more dreadful feats
Than hags, with all their imps and teats
Make more bewitch and haunt themselves
Than all their nurseries of elves?
For fear does things so like a witch,
'Tis hard t' unriddle which is which:
Sets up Communities of senses,
To chop and change intelligences;
As Rosicrucian virtuosos
Can see with ears, and hear with noses;
And when they neither see nor hear,
Have more than both supply'd by fear
That makes 'em in the dark see visions,
And hag themselves with apparitions;
And when their eyes discover least,
Discern the subtlest objects best
Do things not contrary, alone,
To th' course of nature, but its own;
The courage of the bravest daunt,
And turn poltroons as valiant:
For men as resolute appear
With too much as too little fear
And when they're out of hopes of flying,
Will run away from death by dying;
Or turn again to stand it out,
And those they fled, like lions, rout.

This HUDIBRAS had prov'd too true,
Who, by the furies left perdue,
And haunted with detachments, sent
From Marshal Legion's regiment,
Was by a fiend, as counterfeit,
Reliev'd and rescu'd with a cheat;

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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Empire State Human

Since I was very young I realised
I never wanted to be human size
So I avoid the crowds and traffic jams
They just remind me of how small I am
Because of this longing in my heart
Im going to start the growing up
Im going to grow now and never stop
Think like a mountain, grow to the top
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
With concentration
My size increased
And now Im fourteen stories high
At least!!
Empire state human
Just a bored kid
Ill go to egypt to be
A pyramid
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land

song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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BE My Lifes Companion

Be my life's companion, and you'll never grow old
I'll love you so much that you'll never grow old
When there's joy in livin' you just never grow old
You've got to stay young 'cause you'll never grow old
People who are lonely can be old at thirty-three
Don't let it happen to you, it didn't happen to me
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
You'll never grow old, no, you'll never grow old
Love and youth and happiness are yours to have and hold
Be my life's companion, and you'll never grow old
I know a man who's lonely, and he's old at thirty-three
No one wants to be - old at thirty-three
Your disposition sours like a lemon on a tree
Don't let it happen to you, and I won't let it happen to me
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
I'll love you so much that you'll never grow old
Love and youth and happiness are yours to have and hold
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
Lucille, I'll love you so much that you'll never grow old
Love and youth and happiness are yours to have and hold
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old

song performed by Louis Armstrong
Added by Lucian Velea
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A poem on divine revelation

This is a day of happiness, sweet peace,
And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd
In full assembly fair, once more we view,
And hail with voice expressive of the heart,
Patrons and sons of this illustrious hall.
This hall more worthy of its rising fame
Than hall on mountain or romantic hill,
Where Druid bards sang to the hero's praise,
While round their woods and barren heaths was heard
The shrill calm echo of th' enchanting shell.
Than all those halls and lordly palaces
Where in the days of chivalry, each knight,
And baron brave in military pride
Shone in the brass and burning steel of war;
For in this hall more worthy of a strain
No envious sound forbidding peace is heard,
Fierce song of battle kindling martial rage
And desp'rate purpose in heroic minds:
But sacred truth fair science and each grace
Of virtue born; health, elegance and ease
And temp'rate mirth in social intercourse
Convey rich pleasure to the mind; and oft
The sacred muse in heaven-breathing song
Doth wrap the soul in extasy divine,
Inspiring joy and sentiment which not
The tale of war or song of Druids gave.
The song of Druids or the tale of war
With martial vigour every breast inspir'd,
With valour fierce and love of deathless fame;
But here a rich and splendid throng conven'd
From many a distant city and fair town,
Or rural seat by shore or mountain-stream,
Breathe joy and blessing to the human race,
Give countenance to arts themselves have known,
Inspire the love of heights themselves have reach'd,
Of noble science to enlarge the mind,
Of truth and virtue to adorn the soul,
And make the human nature grow divine.

Oh could the muse on this auspicious day
Begin a song of more majestic sound,
Or touch the lyre on some sublimer key,
Meet entertainment for the noble mind.
How shall the muse from this poetic bow'r
So long remov'd, and from this happy hill,
Where ev'ry grace and ev'ry virtue dwells,
And where the springs of knowledge and of thought
In riv'lets clear and gushing streams flow down
Attempt a strain? How sing in rapture high

[...] Read more

poem by Hugh Henry Brackenridge
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Where Corn Don't Grow

(Roger Murrah/Mark Alan Springer)
As we sat on the front porch
Of that old grey house where I was born and raised
Starin' at the dusty fields
Where my daddy worked hard every day
I think it kinda hurt him when I said Daddy
There's a lot that I don't know
But don't you ever dream about a life
Where corn don't grow
He just sat there silent
Staring at his favorite coffee cup
I saw a storm of mixed emotion in his eyes
When he looked up
He said Son I know at your age
Seems like this ol' world is turning slow
And you think you'll find the answer to it all
Where corn don't grow
Hard times are real
There's dusty fields
No matter where you go
You may change your mind
'Cause the weeds are high
Where corn don't grow
I remember feeling guilty
When Daddy turned and walked back in the house
I was only seventeen back then
But I thought that I knew more than I know now
I can't say he didn't warn me
This city life's a hard row to hoe
Ain't it funny how a dream can turn around
Where corn don't grow
Hard times are real
There's dusty fields
No matter where you go
And you may change your mind
'Cause the weeds are high
Where corn don't grow
You may change your mind
Oh the weeds are high
Where corn don't grow

song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carol Of Occupations

COME closer to me;
Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess;
Yield closer and closer, and give me the best you possess.

This is unfinish'd business with me--How is it with you?
(I was chill'd with the cold types, cylinder, wet paper between us.)

Male and Female!
I pass so poorly with paper and types, I must pass with the contact
of bodies and souls.

American masses!
I do not thank you for liking me as I am, and liking the touch of
me--I know that it is good for you to do so.

This is the carol of occupations; 10
In the labor of engines and trades, and the labor of fields, I find the developments,
And find the eternal meanings.

Workmen and Workwomen!
Were all educations, practical and ornamental, well display'd out of
me, what would it amount to?
Were I as the head teacher, charitable proprietor, wise statesman,
what would it amount to?
Were I to you as the boss employing and paying you, would that
satisfy you?

The learn'd, virtuous, benevolent, and the usual terms;
A man like me, and never the usual terms.

Neither a servant nor a master am I;
I take no sooner a large price than a small price--I will have my
own, whoever enjoys me; 20
I will be even with you, and you shall be even with me.

If you stand at work in a shop, I stand as nigh as the nighest in the
same shop;
If you bestow gifts on your brother or dearest friend, I demand as
good as your brother or dearest friend;
If your lover, husband, wife, is welcome by day or night, I must be
personally as welcome;
If you become degraded, criminal, ill, then I become so for your
sake;
If you remember your foolish and outlaw'd deeds, do you think I
cannot remember my own foolish and outlaw'd deeds?
If you carouse at the table, I carouse at the opposite side of the
table;
If you meet some stranger in the streets, and love him or her--why I
often meet strangers in the street, and love them.

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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Metamorphoses: Book The Seventh

THE Argonauts now stemm'd the foaming tide,
And to Arcadia's shore their course apply'd;
Where sightless Phineus spent his age in grief,
But Boreas' sons engage in his relief;
And those unwelcome guests, the odious race
Of Harpyes, from the monarch's table chase.
With Jason then they greater toils sustain,
And Phasis' slimy banks at last they gain,
Here boldly they demand the golden prize
Of Scythia's king, who sternly thus replies:
That mighty labours they must first o'ercome,
Or sail their Argo thence unfreighted home.
The Story of Meanwhile Medea, seiz'd with fierce desire,
Medea and By reason strives to quench the raging fire;
Jason But strives in vain!- Some God (she said)
withstands,
And reason's baffl'd council countermands.
What unseen Pow'r does this disorder move?
'Tis love,- at least 'tis like, what men call love.
Else wherefore shou'd the king's commands appear
To me too hard?- But so indeed they are.
Why shou'd I for a stranger fear, lest he
Shou'd perish, whom I did but lately see?
His death, or safety, what are they to me?
Wretch, from thy virgin-breast this flame expel,
And soon- Oh cou'd I, all wou'd then be well!
But love, resistless love, my soul invades;
Discretion this, affection that perswades.
I see the right, and I approve it too,
Condemn the wrong- and yet the wrong pursue.
Why, royal maid, shou'dst thou desire to wed
A wanderer, and court a foreign bed?
Thy native land, tho' barb'rous, can present
A bridegroom worth a royal bride's content:
And whether this advent'rer lives, or dies,
In Fate, and Fortune's fickle pleasure lies.
Yet may be live! for to the Pow'rs above,
A virgin, led by no impulse of love,
So just a suit may, for the guiltless, move.
Whom wou'd not Jason's valour, youth and blood
Invite? or cou'd these merits be withstood,
At least his charming person must encline
The hardest heart- I'm sure 'tis so with mine!
Yet, if I help him not, the flaming breath
Of bulls, and earth-born foes, must be his death.
Or, should he through these dangers force his way,
At last he must be made the dragon's prey.
If no remorse for such distress I feel,
I am a tigress, and my breast is steel.
Why do I scruple then to see him slain,

[...] Read more

poem by Ovid
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Mysteries of The Kingdom

Some mysteries of The Kingdom were, given in parables for us to infer,
Some secrets of The Kingdom of God, while still upon this earthly sod.
Parables spoken by Jesus Christ, to demonstrate Truths of Eternal Life,
Hidden from the hearts and eyes; where God’s Truths are just despised.
Christ spoke of the faithful sower, planting seed for the Eternal Grower,
Then Jesus Christ went on to say, that not all seed fell in the same way,
Some fell onto the walking path, and soon destroyed, by Satan’s wrath.
Some seed fell upon the rocky soil, and with no root, soon would spoil.

Some seed fell within thorny soil, and was unfruitful because of the toil.
But in good soil some was sown, and an abundance of fruit was grown.
The Kingdom, Christ went on to say, was just like a field in another way,
Where there was good seed sown, weeds around that wheat had grown.
For the enemy had sown in the field, weeds where the crop would yield,
But to not uproot what was good, he let the weeds grow as they would.
The weeds would remain until harvest, but not to be treated as the rest,
The weeds are bundled to be burned, saving the wheat as they learned.

And in the garden is the mustard seed, with a Truth that we could heed,
Small and unimpressive in size, but, from it the largest plant would rise.
Christ spoke of yeast and its effect, in The Kingdom through the Elect,
Just as it is mixed in the dough, with the Spirit, growth begins to show.
The Kingdom’s like hidden treasure, filling the finder with such pleasure,
That he hides it again and is glad, to buy the field, spending all he had.
Like a fine pearl found by a merchant; all his property, would be spent,
To buy this one pearl of such worth, one which he found, here on earth.

The Kingdom of Heaven’s like a net, of a fisherman and all of his catch,
When it’s full and pulled to shore, it had good fish but it also had more,
The good, put into baskets to keep; the bad thrown back into the deep.
This, just like the end of this Age, with the deep being an eternal grave,
When angels gather souls of men, the righteous and those condemned,
The condemned, to fires below, while the righteous, to Heaven they go.
All these parables spoken of, illustrate The Kingdom of Heaven above,
And by Jesus Christ, are given to us, who in Him have placed our trust.

(Copyright ©01/2008)

poem by Bob Gotti
Added by Poetry Lover
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Beowulf

LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled….
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Baudelaire
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OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem’d my sin in me;
What seem’d my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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I Don't Wanna Grow Up

When I'm lyin' in my bed at night I don't wanna grow up
Nothing ever seems to turn out right I don't wanna grow up
How do you move in a world of fog that's always
Changing things Makes wish that I could be a dog
When I see the price that you pay I don't wanna grow up
I don't ever want to be that way I don't wanna grow up
Seems that folks turn into things that they
Never want The only thing to live for is today...
I'm gonna put a hole in my T.V. set I don't wanna grow up
Open up the medicine chest I don't wanna grow up
I don't wanna have to shout it out I don't want my hair to fall out
I don't wanna be filled with doubtI don't wanna be a good boy scout
I don't wanna have to learn to count I don't wanna have the biggest amount
I don't wanna grow up
Well when I see my parents fight I don't wanna grow up
They all go out and drinkin' all night I don't wanna grow up
I'd rather stay here in my room Nothin' out there but sad and gloom
I don't wanna live in a big old tomb on grand street
When I see the 5 o'clock news I don't wanna grow up
Comb their hair and shine their shoes I don't wanna grow up
Stay around in my old hometown I don't wanna put no money down
I don't wanna get a big old loan Work them fingers to the bone
I don't wanna float on a broom Fall in love, get married then boom
How the hell did it get here so soon I don't wanna grow up

song performed by Ramones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mc Champion

And now..
You're mc champions, ultra-magnetic
"i am sealing off the dimensional window
Closing the hole in the fabric of the cosmos like a scar"
[ced gee]
Ahh yeah
One two, one two
This is agent ble-ced gee
Ultramagnetic's in full effect
We in here droppin freestyle rhymes like mc champions
So keith, take it away
[kool keith]
Power compactor, brain distractor
Droppin a bomb, right in your anal connector
Sector, vector, the lyric inspector
X-ray vision, powerful spector
Lexor, mechtor, egor
Ah yes yes y'all, and you don't stop
The rhythm i drop to hit the top to make your swing go pop
As i flow, pick up the micro'
Poem get hypo, tension as original
Lyrical miracle, back to attack one
Black one, white one, green one or blue one
Colorful sweet rhymes, i'm back to do one
Or two of you, three of you, or four of you
Five or six or seven, eleven of you
Wack mc's get back in the last line
And wait on the mic, you think i'm ready to pass mine
Up in the brougham, with clever ability
I know when to sting a brain, just like i'm a killer bee
Hittin em hard with the rhyme as the flame throw
Hardcore, softcore, and even the rainbow
Polka-dot mc's, african, indians
Spanish-american, mixed with panamanian
Arabian nubian, speak in siberian
Japanese chinese, and regular mc's
Preachers, teachers, and negative creatures
I roll and kick a rhyme, you grab your mic back
Sidewind and rattle like a snake i strike back
I chew your brain and, the monkey behind you
Your company management, the dummy who signed you
To pick up the slack but the hype ain't sellin many
Records and tapes cause your rap ain't tellin any
Metaphor phrases, things that amazes
Me the next man, no biter or innovator
With lyrical instinct, you look like a duplicator
Bitin my style, nibblin on the big jock
With rhymes so tight, they keep your brain in the headlock
Count the one two three four five
I'm like like pushwagons, tag-teamin your dome

[...] Read more

song performed by Ultramagnetic Mc's
Added by Lucian Velea
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