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We emphasize that such a form of communication is not absent in man, however evanescent a naturally given object may be for him, split as it is in its submission to symbols.

quote by Jacques Lacan
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Communication

(bramble, palmer, taylor, taylor)
Airmail, cassettes.. postcards, telex
Drop me a line, be my grapevine
Im always trying to reach you, cant get through
Our communication depends on me and you
Got to stay in touch even though were on the move
Keep your lines open, say, whats new
Exchange the facts, keep in contact
I keep on trying to call you but I cant get through
Our communication must get through
Communication.. dont hang up
Communication.. keep in touch
Communication.. dont put me on hold
Situation.. soul to soul
Send word, stay tuned, call me real soon
Every time I phone you, youre not home
Weve got to stay in touch on the telephone
I keep on trying to reach you
But I cant get through
Our communication must get through
Communication.. baby, talk to me
Communication.. information, please
Communication.. dont put me on hold
Situation.. soul to soul
Communication.. dont hang up
Communication.. keep in touch
Communication.. dont put me on hold
Situation.. soul to soul
Communication.. baby, talk to me
Communication.. information, please
Communication.. dont put me on hold
Situation.. soul to soul
Communication.. baby, dont hang up
Communication.. keep in touch
Communication.. dont put me on hold
Situation.. soul to soul
Communication.. baby, talk to me
Communication.. information, please
Communication.. dont put me on hold
Situation.. soul to soul
Communication.. ahh, dont hang up....

song performed by Duran Duran
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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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)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Autumn-Spirit.

Now the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth, bedecked with symbols of the Autumn-Spirit's reign,
Makes us think about the season of the flowers with a sigh,
When life was lush in every tree-love laughed in every eye,
Whilst her lineaments of beauty were imprinted on the sod,
When the Spring with Winter wrestled, on that gala-day of God!
But the Spring is dead and buried, and the Summer's vital fire,
Like a heap of sullen embers, smoulders ready to expire;
For the Autumn-Spirit, reigning over mountain, vale and plain,
Robes the Earth in royal symbols emblematic of his reign!

Hark! a singing train of seraphim doth o'er its surface pass!
Mark! their flowing robes of flame have singed the green and speary grass!
Witness! every tender blade appeareth tipped and tinged with brown,
And the hedge is hemmed with rose-leaves, which their wings have shaken down,
Though the hind but hears the whirring of ten thousand pinions beat,
Sees a cloud of birds of passage trail its shadow by his feet,
For the pageantry of Heaven hath escaped his optics dim,
And he sees but birds of passage in the God-sent seraphim,
While the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth is robed in symbols of the Autumn-Spirit's reign!

While his tread is on the mountain, through the valley and the plain,
Like some Fate-commissioned angel, Desolation tracks his train,
And the glory of the Summer and the beauty of the Spring
Form a carpet for his feet, a fading, weird, and worn-out thing!
And his wings distil an odour, as of corpses in perfume,
Warbled through his ghastly whispers sound the sighs of buried bloom,
And his accents are dim echoes from the hollow caves of Death,
And the wailing woods are withered by his cold and crisping breath,
For the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth is robed in symbols of the Autumn-spirit's reign!

Where the Poet loves to saunter in some unfrequented nook,
Or to sit and learn the language of the ever-babbling brook,
While its glassy surface mirrors the deep gulf of Heaven's blue,
Where the sunny cloud-ships, sailing, point to vapour lands in view,
There the river's creeks are mantled with red leaves and yellow foam,
And its broken banks are scattered with dead branches dipped in loam,
And a wail of desolation through the fading forest hums,
And the Winds grow chill by thinking of the Winter ere it comes,
While the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth is robed in symbols of the Autumn-Spirit's reign!

Where the lily of the valley and the violet of the copse
Looked like Thoughts incorporated-like embodied youthful Hopes!
Where the golden-tubëd honeysuckle's pipes were interwound
With the ruddy-tinted roses breathing scented music round,
In the field or the forest, by the verdure-sheltered rills,
Where, in green and golden garments, Summer sate among the hills,

[...] Read more

poem by William Billington
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Give The Po Man A Break

Give po man a break
Give po man a break
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
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Doin' What Comes Natur'lly

ANNIE OAKLEY and FEMALE CHORUS:
Folks are dumb where I come from,
They ain't had any learning.
Still they're happy as can be
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally).
Folks like us could never fuss
With schools and books and learning.
Still we've gone from A to Z,
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally)
You don't have to know how to read or write
When you're out with a feller in the pale moonlight.
You don't have to look in a book to find out
What he thinks of the moon and what is on his mind.
That comes naturally (that comes naturally).
My uncle out in Texas can't even write his name.
He signs his checks with "x's"
But they cash them just the same.
If you saw my pa and ma,
You'd know they had no learning,
Still they've raised a family
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally)
Cousin Jack has never read an almanac on drinking
Still he's always on the spree
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally).
Sister Sal who's musical has never had a lesson,
Still she's learned to sing off-key
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally).
You don't have to go a private school
Not to pick up a penny near a stubborn mule,
You don't have to have a professor's dome
Not to go for the honey when the bee's not home.
That comes naturally (that comes naturally).
My tiny baby brother, who's never read a book,
Knows one sex from the other,
All he had to do was look,
Grandpa Bill is on the hill
With someone he just married.
There he is at ninety-three,
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally

song performed by Irving Berlin
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Object

You know you turn me on
Eyes so white and legs so long
But don't try to talk to me
I won't listen to your lies
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
Sophisticated smile
You seduce in such fine style
But don't try to fool me
'cause i can see through your disguise
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objection
To you touching me there
Object object
Object object
Object object
Object object
You know just what to do
Lick your lips
And i want you
But don't try to hold me
'cause i don't want any ties
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objections
To you touching me there
You're just an object object
Object object
You're just an object

song performed by Cure
Added by Lucian Velea
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Comminication Braekdown

We never walk We never talk
We never find the time To be close again
There it goes again
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
Too much concern for money to burn
Too many things to do Now you don't need me
And I don't need you
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
One by one They fail Now the leaves our lover
Cling to the ground
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
Too much too soon Too much temptation
In a hurry It's a sad situation
Too much worry I can tell Well it's over now
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
There it goes
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
When it's right, it's all right
When it's wrong, it's all wrong
When it's gone, it's all gone
It's too late
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
I can tell Well it's over now
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown

song performed by Roy Orbison
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Communication Breakdown

Roy orbison
We never walk we never talk
We never find the time to be close again
There it goes again
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
Too much concern for money to burn
Too many things to do now you dont need me
And I dont need you
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
One by one they fail now the leaves our lover
Cling to the ground
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
Too much too soon too much temptation
In a hurry its a sad situation
Too much worry I can tell well its over now
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
There it goes
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
When its right, its all right
When its wrong, its all wrong
When its gone, its all gone
Its too late
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown
I can tell well its over now
Communication breakdown
Communication breakdown

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Submission (feat. Radiator)

[Originally performed by The Sex Pistols]
I'm on a submarine mission for you baby
I feel the way you're going
I picked you up on my TV screen
I feel your undercurrent flowing
Submission
Down down
You're dragging me down
Submission
I can't tell ya what I've found
You've got me pretty deep baby
I can't figure out your watery love
I gotta solve your mystery
You're sitting around in heaven above
Submission
Down down
You're dragging me down
Submission
I can't tell ya what I've found
For there's a mystery
Under the sea
Submission
Down down
You're dragging me down
Submission
You've got me pretty deep baby
I can't figure out your watery love
I gotta solve your mystery
You're sitting around in heaven above
Submission
Down down
You're dragging me down
Submission
I can't tell ya what I've found
Submission
Submission
Submission
Submission

song performed by Belinda Carlisle
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.

SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.

Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.

FIRST Angel.

Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.

SECOND Angel.

How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.

THIRD Angel.

O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.

FOURTH Angel.

Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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The ten commandments of communication

The ten commandments of communication

Verify your ideas before clarification, as to whether the contents of your
communication will really serve the purpose of your communication. Consult others, where appropriate, the communication plan. This will help you decide the audience-based right content, flow, duration and location.

Make clear to the audience the true purpose of communication. Make it known to the audience as to what you want them to do after receiving the inputs from you. It can be just an act, can be an attitudinal change, can be drawing a strategy or plan of action.

Ensure you are in the right set of environment for the communication.
Communication is not effected just by words and gestures, but also by the quality of place where you communicate.

Take into confidence your audience. Encourage them to come out with their experience in the subject of communication. Accordingly polish your ways.

Be sure where to emphasize and where to dilute. Check yourself the
overtones and emphasis on messages conveyed, as audience may not notice.

Avoid being theoretical all through. Give practical examples. Enthuse
audience to come out with problems, connected with the subject and offer, if possible, practical solutions.

Follow up with what you communicate. Ensure audience is with you through the entire communication. Give no impression that you are evaluating their ability to absorb.

Demonstrate that you practice what you preach. Your past experiences may come handy.

Communicate for tomorrow, based on previous learning, enabling the audience visualize new horizons on the subject of communication.

Last, but not the least, seek not to be understood, but to understand. Be a good listener too.

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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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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Loving You

lovin' you
If i gave you forever
Would you take care of me? (a oo)
Would you take me for granted?
Run away?
Those wonderful things that you do
They got me feelin'
In love with you
In love with you
That loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
I would give you laughter
Oh
And so much more than that
Oh yes i would (a oo)
And at your after
I would climb the highest mountain
To bring it back
You better believe
Those wonderful things that you do
They got me feelin'
In love with you
In love with you
That loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
I will stay by your side
Whether i'm wrong
Whether i'm right
Oh it's incredible
With you i wanna spend the rest of my life, yeah
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Loving you is easy
Loving you is easy
Loving you is easy

song performed by Alicia Keys
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lovin You

Lovin you
If I gave you forever
Would you take care of me? (a oo)
Would you take me for granted?
Run away?
Those wonderful things that you do
They got me feelin
In love with you
In love with you
That loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
I would give you laughter
Oh
And so much more than that
Oh yes I would (a oo)
And at your after
I would climb the highest mountain
To bring it back
You better believe
Those wonderful things that you do
They got me feelin
In love with you
In love with you
That loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
I will stay by your side
Whether Im wrong
Whether Im right
Oh its incredible
With you I wanna spend the rest of my life, yeah
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Comes so naturally
Loving you is easy
Loving you is easy
Loving you is easy
Loving you is easy

song performed by Alicia Keys
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Reverse Reality

when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision

poem by Nyein Way
Added by Poetry Lover
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