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Nothing retains less of desire in art, in science, than this will to industry, booty, possession.

quote by Andre Breton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Acid 8000

Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move
- its so easy to get acid, you can get it anywhere.
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move, your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move, your booty move
Your booty move
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead
If you dont make your booty move, your booty must be dead

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Me No More Booty

Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.

Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.

Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Giving me so much,
Makes my head get such a rush.

I can't sustain my game with it!
Or sustain my need to be relieved.
I'm whipped!
Quick.

Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.

Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.

I'm no beast to eatcha.
When you are in heat.
I'd rather just keep ya...
Between sheets,
Beneath.
Oh,
I'm no beast to eatcha.
When you are in heat.
I'd rather just keep ya...
Between sheets,
Beneath.
Oh,
But...
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exclusive Booty

Some have a crush on,
Just one they have a lust.
And that one that is the lusted one,
Just may run from their touch.
Not wanting it that much.

Some have a crush on,
Just one they have a lust.
And that one that is the lusted one,
Just may run from their touch.

Others have a chronic logic that exists.
And it's difficult for them to reason,
With hearts distanced from their minds...
Thinking them to be affixed.

And hard it is to interfere with people who insist,
A jumping to conclusions is a way to happiness.

Some want exclusive booty that they can do.
Exclusive booty chosen just to do with one boo.
And...
Some want exclusive booty.
Some want exclusive booty.
Some want exclusive booty just with one boo.
And,
Some want exclusive booty that they can do.
Exclusive booty chosen just to do with one boo.
And...
Some want exclusive booty.
Some want exclusive booty.
Some want exclusive booty just with one boo.

And hard it is to interfere with people who insist,
A jumping to conclusions is a way to happiness.
But...
Some want exclusive booty.
Some want exclusive booty.
Some want exclusive booty just with one boo.

Some have a crush on,
Just one they have a lust.
And that one that is the lusted one,
Just may run from their touch.
Not wanting it that much.

Others have a chronic logic that exists.
And it's difficult for them to reason,
With hearts distanced from their minds...
Thinking them to be affixed.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Booty-Boo-Doo-The Caboose

I'm not going to hide,
Any love you see this evening.
I'm much too needing on my side...
And I want it known as shown,
I've come with... some pride.

I'm not going to hide inside of me,
This evening.
Too much I let collect in dust.
And too much I don't want to get rusty.
I've got enough in me to boot and hoot.

It doesn't matter if my ladder,
Can get up to reach the roof!

I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.

Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.

Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.

Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.

Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.

I'm not going to hide inside of me,
This evening.
Too much I let collect in dust.
And too much I don't want to get rusty.
I've got enough in me to boot and hoot.

Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.

Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love 2 The 9s

U say that u love me like river
A river u sayll never run dry
Id rather hear u say 4 ever
Instead of a smile Id rather see u cry
Dont use the magical
Mysterious, intoxicating, joy fantastic
Fascinating word called love
Unless u love me 2 the 9s
This is the only kind of love
That Ive been dreaming of
The kind of love that takes over your
Body, mind, and soul
Love 2 the 9s
Baby, (2 the 9s)
I wanna be loved 2 the 9s (2 the 9s)
I wanna be loved, sugar (2 the 9s)
I wanna be loved 4 all time (4 all time)
Baby, take a real good look at my face
Cuz honey, it just might be the last time
Maybe u should have played an ace
Instead u played the queen
Ud be better off cheatin than tryin
2 read my mind
Dont use the magical
Mysterious, intoxicating, joy fantastic
Fascinating word called love
Unless u love me 2 the 9s
This is the only kind of love
That Ive been dreaming of
The kind of love that takes over your
Body, mind, and soul
Love 2 the 9s
Baby, (2 the 9s)
I wanna be loved 2 the 9s (2 the 9s)
I wanna be loved, sugar (2 the 9s)
I wanna be loved 4 all time (4 all time)
Love me 2 the (9s)
Stay awake 4 4teen hours
Listen 2 the band play new power soul
We got 2 get with this
Dancing 2 the beat til we lose our mind control
Can I get a witness?
Im lookin 4 a lover with a body that says some mo
I want 2 see the booty boom before I even let
Her get close enough 2 smell perfume
Im lookin 4 a phd
Ass piled high and deep u see
I cant help it - like a honey 2 a bee -
If the booty boom she gonna go with me
And then t. will whip out a 37 questionnaire and

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love Science

Ive been around the world, Im going around again
I got a new word up, gonna lay it on my friends
Im still too young, Ive got these emotions in my blood
But when I grow up, gonna be a scientist of love
Working on, love science
Got to know, love science
Show the world, love science
How to be a scientist of love
Tell my friends, love science
Take a chance, love science
Give it up, love science
Im a scientist of love
Feel the power, love science
Study hard, love science
Know the truth, love science
Be a scientist of love
Choose a plan, love science
Pick em up, put em down, love science
Bring it on home, love science
Got to be a scientist of love
Hey you!
Sometimes you get screwed up, and youre looking for a cure
But you dont want to see just another amateur
I know the kind of expert you must be thinking of
Go out and find yourself a scientist of love
Some say that loves a game, a random circumstance
Im not the type to leave that kind of thing to chance
You might sit back and wait, but Im taking off the gloves
Im gonna crack this case like a scientist of love
1, 2, 3!
If loves what we want, if loves what we need
Why cant we make love from suspicion and greed?
If loves what we want, if loves what we need
Why cant we make love?
Ive got no time to waste just waiting for the bus
This is the place, the space to get down and serious
School is in, the lab is open for research
I do declare that love is a walking, talking church
Ive got to quell the beast, be a credit to my sex
Ive got to give at least as much as I expect
Cant get no rest til I discover what I need
Gotta start somewhere, that why I believe, believe, believe
Believe the word, love science
Party down, love science
Thinking hard, love science
How to be a scientist of love
Place to place, love science
Hour to hour, love science
Cant hold back, love science
Got to be a scientist of love

[...] Read more

song performed by Todd Rundgren
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Castle Of Indolence

The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.

O mortal man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate;
That like an emmet thou must ever moil,
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date:
And, certes, there is for it reason great;
For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curse thy star, and early drudge and late;
Withouten that would come a heavier bale,
Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.
In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompass'd round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,
Than whom a fiend more fell is no where found.
It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground;
And there a season atween June and May,
Half prankt with spring, with summer half imbrown'd,
A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,
No living wight could work, ne cared even for play.
Was nought around but images of rest:
Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between;
And flowery beds that slumbrous influence kest,
From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant green,
Where never yet was creeping creature seen.
Meantime, unnumber'd glittering streamlets play'd,
And hurled every where their waters sheen;
That, as they bicker'd through the sunny glade,
Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made.
Join'd to the prattle of the purling rills
Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,
And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,
And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:
And, now and then, sweet Philomel would wail,
Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;
Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.
Full in the passage of the vale, above,
A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;
Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move,
As Idless fancied in her dreaming mood:
And up the hills, on either side, a wood
Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;
And where this valley winded out, below,
The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.

[...] Read more

poem by James Thomson
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They Spoke In Coka Mode

Moody.
Broody.
But open her cage,
Let her go...
And she becomes a hybrid,
Raged!

Subtle cuddled up.
But a buck on a booty.
He had it kind of rough,
Then he smoothed with age.

They both broke quota.
They spoke in coka mode...
Ooo poppa locka booty,
Ooma poppah!

They both broke quota.
They spoke in coka mode...
Ooo poppa locka booty,
Ooma poppah!

Moody.
Broody.
But open her cage,
Let her go...
And she becomes a hybrid,
Raged!

Subtle cuddled up.
But a buck on a booty.
He had it kind of rough,
Then he smoothed with age.

They both broke quota.
They spoke in coka mode...
Ooo poppa locka booty,
Ooma poppah!

They both broke quota.
They spoke in coka mode...
Ooo poppa locka booty,
Ooma poppah!

Let her go...
And she becomes a hybrid,
Raged!
He had it kind of rough,
Then he smoothed with age.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.

I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Rears the lone cottage in the silent dale,
All feel the assault of fortune's fickle gale;
Art, empire, earth itself to change are doom'd;
Earthquakes have raised to heaven the humble vale,
And gulphs the mountain's mighty mass entomb'd,
And where the Atlantic rolls wide continents have bloom'd.

II.
But sure to foreign climes we need not range,
Nor search the ancient records of our race,
To learn the dire effects of time and change,
Which in ourselves, alas! we daily trace.
Yet at the darken'd eye, the wither'd face,
Or hoary hair, I never will repine:
But spare, O Time, whate'er of mental grace,
Of candour, love, or sympathy divine,
Whate'er of fancy's ray, of friendship's flame is mine.

III.
So I, obsequious to Truth's dread command,
Shall here without reluctance change my lay,
And smile to the Gothic lyre with harsher hand;
Now when I leave that flowery path for aye
Of childhood, where I sported many a day,
Warbling and sauntering carelessly along;
Where every face was innocent and gay,
Each vale romantic, tuneful every tongue,
Sweet, wild, and artless all, as Edwin's infant song.

IV.
'Perish the lore that deadens young desire,'
Is the soft tenor of my song no more.
Edwin, though loved of Heaven, must not aspire
To bliss, which mortals never knew before.
On trembling wings let youthful fancy soar,
Nor always haunt the sunny realms of joy;
But now and then the shades of life explore;
Though many a sound and sight of wo annoy,
And many a qualm of care his rising hopes destroy.

V.
Vigour from toil, from trouble patience grows.
The weakly bosom, warm in summer bower,
Some tints of transient beauty may disclose;
But soon it withers in the chilling hour.
Mark yonder oak. Superior to the power

[...] Read more

poem by James Beattie
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The Growth of Love

1
They that in play can do the thing they would,
Having an instinct throned in reason's place,
--And every perfect action hath the grace
Of indolence or thoughtless hardihood--
These are the best: yet be there workmen good
Who lose in earnestness control of face,
Or reckon means, and rapt in effort base
Reach to their end by steps well understood.
Me whom thou sawest of late strive with the pains
Of one who spends his strength to rule his nerve,
--Even as a painter breathlessly who stains
His scarcely moving hand lest it should swerve--
Behold me, now that I have cast my chains,
Master of the art which for thy sake I serve.

2
For thou art mine: and now I am ashamed
To have uséd means to win so pure acquist,
And of my trembling fear that might have misst
Thro' very care the gold at which I aim'd;
And am as happy but to hear thee named,
As are those gentle souls by angels kisst
In pictures seen leaving their marble cist
To go before the throne of grace unblamed.
Nor surer am I water hath the skill
To quench my thirst, or that my strength is freed
In delicate ordination as I will,
Than that to be myself is all I need
For thee to be most mine: so I stand still,
And save to taste my joy no more take heed.

3
The whole world now is but the minister
Of thee to me: I see no other scheme
But universal love, from timeless dream
Waking to thee his joy's interpreter.
I walk around and in the fields confer
Of love at large with tree and flower and stream,
And list the lark descant upon my theme,
Heaven's musical accepted worshipper.
Thy smile outfaceth ill: and that old feud
'Twixt things and me is quash'd in our new truce;
And nature now dearly with thee endued
No more in shame ponders her old excuse,
But quite forgets her frowns and antics rude,
So kindly hath she grown to her new use.

4

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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Do Your Duty

Be done with a hook up and go.
Do your duty to the booty,
And satisfy the mood.

Be done with a hook up and go.
And do your duty to the booty,
Don't present an attitude.
Or make excuses for what you choose.

Do your duty to the booty and go!
Whether clothed or nude.
Today folks care less who they screw.
Or spreading diseases and to who!

Be done with a hook up and go.
Do your duty to the booty,
And satisfy the mood.

Be done with a hook up and go.
And do your duty to the booty,
Don't present an attitude.
Or make excuses for what you choose.

Do your duty to the booty,
Whether clothed or nude.
Today folks care less who they screw.
Or spreading diseases and to who!

Do your duty to the booty and go!
And don't present an attitude.
Or make excuses for what you choose.
Today folks care less who they screw.
Or spreading diseases and to who!

Be done with a hook up and go.
Do your duty to the booty,
And satisfy the mood.
Care less about affects,
And what they do!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Alive By Science

Respirators ventilators
High and holy legislators
Give me agony
Pure agony
Vegetation indignation
Endless one-way conversation
Aint living to me
And when I lose all my self-reliance
Dont keep me hooked up to no appliance
Dont keep me (if you love me)
Yeah dont keep me
Alive by science
I hear an angel banging on my door
Big daddy on the top floor
Shouting free
You gotta be free
This is my life cest mon affiare
Fat ladys singing
I dont stand a prayer
Now be a love and pull the plug on me
Now babe if you be true to our aliance
Please dont pump my lungs without my compliance
Dont keep me
Yeah dont keep me
Alive by science
And when I lose all my self-reliance
Dont keep me hooked up to no appliance
Dont keep me
Yeah dont keep me
Alive by science
I beg you bady dont keep me (alive by science)
Yeah baby dont keep me (alive by science)
Oh baby dont keep me (alive by science)
Aw baby dont keep me (alive by science)
Oh dont keep me (alive by science)
Shoo bop oh bo de oh yeah (alive by science) family members mortgage lenders give me agony (alive by science)
Im stuck in bed seeing red (alive by science)
Blood flows but my brian is dead (alive by science)
To be or not to be (alive by science)
Baby dont keep me (alive by science)
Dont you dare keep me (alive by science)

song performed by Gino Vanelli
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Believer's Jointure : Chapter II.

Containing the Marks and Characters of the Believer in Christ; together with some further privileges and grounds of comfort to the Saints.

Sect. I.

Doubting Believers called to examine, by marks drawn from their love to Him and his presence, their view of his glory, and their being emptied of Self-Righteousness, &c.

Good news! but, says the drooping bride,
Ah! what's all this to me?
Thou doubt'st thy right, when shadows hide
Thy Husband's face from thee.

Though sin and guilt thy spirit faints,
And trembling fears thy fate;
But harbour not thy groundless plaints,
Thy Husband's advent wait.

Thou sobb'st, 'O were I sure he's mine,
This would give glad'ning ease;'
And say'st, Though wants and woes combine,
Thy Husband would thee please.

But up and down, and seldom clear,
Inclos'd with hellish routs;
Yet yield thou not, nor foster fear:
Thy Husband hates thy doubts.

Thy cries and tears may slighted seem,
And barr'd from present ease;
Yet blame thyself, but never dream
Thy Husband's ill to please.

Thy jealous unbelieving heart
Still droops, and knows not why;
Then prove thyself to ease thy smart,
Thy Husband bids the try.

The following questions put to the
As scripture-marks, may tell
And shew, what'er thy failings be,
Thy Husband loves thee well.

MARKS.

Art thou content when he's away?
Can earth allay thy pants?
If conscience witness, won't it say,
Thy Husband's all thou wants?

[...] Read more

poem by Ralph Erskine
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Infectious Grooves

Insane-the mother funksters tear it up
The beat-that makes you wanna stomp it up
Rhythm-you just can't get enough of the Infectious Grooves
Hardcore-and then they switch it to the smooth
Got vibe-mix it in with the groove
The plague-that's gonna make you booty move it's the Infectious Grooves
Gave it-the network of ability
Threw in-all kind of insanity
Add it up-and now you got the recipe of The Infectious Grooves
Chorus:
Talk to me baby you should of been good-you think you're on it
but you ain't got nothing on me
It aon't as if I hadn't told you so
So now you sit and then you go and when you hear it
Damn-that's what you say when you hear us
Jam-'cause the boys know how to make it all
Slam-now you wanna get with the program of the Infectious Grooves
Pack'n-a loc'd kinda zak that's
Attack'n-with the bass that's pump'n and
Smack'n-leave you breathless coughing and hack'n with Infectious Grooves
We found- the hippest, hardest, heaviest sound
Took it straight from the underground
Now you got the plague that's going around, known as Infectious Grooves
Talk to me baby it's me again
I love to tell you 'cause it ain't the way that you wanna hear
You try to stop it, but I seen you move your booty
Move that booty, mmm that's a booty, she has a very nice booty Infectious
Now you know it's Infectious
It's Infectious-the rhythm that'll tear it up
Infectious-the beat that makes you get on up
Infectious-the mother funksters tear it up-with the Infectious Grooves
Infectious-A loc'd kinda zak that's
Infectious-with the bass that's pumpin and
Infectious-leave you breathless coughing and the Infectious Grooves
Infectious-switch to the smooth and it's
Infectious-miz it in the groove and it's
Infectous-the plague that makes your booty move it's the Infectious Grooves
Infectous-the plague that makes your
Infectous-the plague that makes your
Infectous-the plague that makes your booty move it's the Infectious Grooves

song performed by Infectious Grooves
Added by Lucian Velea
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P***ycat

This is another missy elliott exclusive
Its all for the love
But there is more things that keep a man satisfied
And I know the remedy just to cure him from
Cheating even if he tried hey
Pussy dont fail me now
I gotta turn this nigga out
So he dont want nobody else
But me and only me
Pussy dont fail me now
I gotta turn this nigga out
So he dont want nobody else
But me and only me
I know hes a man and men have intentions
To sleep with someone else
But thats why when I make love to him
Im ruling
Try to give him my best hey
Pussy dont fail me now
I gotta turn this nigga out
So he dont want nobody else
But me and only me
Pussy dont fail me now
I gotta turn this nigga out
So he dont want nobody else
But me and only me
As long as the pussy good
Its alright
Aint gotta worry about my man
Cuz he knows mas
Is one of a kind
And thats why he keeps staying
The pussy good
Its alright
Aint gotta worry about my man
Cuz he knows mas
Is one of a kind
And thats why he keeps staying
Look ma
Yea you got the bomb and work
That prissy stuff
Glad it aint the gushy stuff
That gushy stuff?
I dont like the mushy butts
I wish we was
Like comfy over jennifer
Him and her
Too much like I and we
And what that mean?
We just love the booty

[...] Read more

song performed by Missy Elliott
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 8

And now the Angel, from the trembling sight,
Veil'd the wide world–when sudden shades of night
Move o'er the ethereal vault; the starry train
Paint their dim forms beneath the placid main;
While earth and heaven, around the hero's eye,
Seem arch'd immense, like one surrounding sky.
Still, from the Power superior splendors shone,
The height emblazing like a radiant throne;
To converse sweet the soothing shades invite,
And on the guide the hero fix'd his sight.
Kind messenger of Heaven, he thus began,
Why this progressive labouring search of man?
If man by wisdom form'd hath power to reach
These opening truths that following ages teach,
Step after step, thro' devious mazes, wind,
And fill at last the measure of the mind,
Why did not Heaven, with one unclouded ray,
All human arts and reason's powers display?
That mad opinions, sects and party strife
Might find no place t'imbitter human life.
To whom the Angelic Power; to thee 'tis given,
To hold high converse, and enquire of heaven,
To mark uncircled ages and to trace
The unfolding truths that wait thy kindred race.
Know then, the counsels of th'unchanging Mind,
Thro' nature's range, progressive paths design'd,
Unfinish'd works th'harmonious system grace,
Thro' all duration and around all space;
Thus beauty, wisdom, power, their parts unroll,
Till full perfection joins the accordant whole.
So the first week, beheld the progress rise,
Which form'd the earth and arch'd th'incumbant skies.
Dark and imperfect first, the unbeauteous frame,
From vacant night, to crude existence came;
Light starr'd the heavens and suns were taught their bound,
Winds woke their force, and floods their centre found;
Earth's kindred elements, in joyous strife,
Warm'd the glad glebe to vegetable life,
Till sense and power and action claim'd their place,
And godlike reason crown'd the imperial race.
Progressive thus, from that great source above,
Flows the fair fountain of redeeming love.
Dark harbingers of hope, at first bestow'd,
Taught early faith to feel her path to God:
Down the prophetic, brightening train of years,
Consenting voices rose of different seers,
In shadowy types display'd the accomplish'd plan,
When filial Godhead should assume the man,
When the pure Church should stretch her arms abroad,
Fair as a bride and liberal as her God;

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poem by Joel Barlow
Added by Poetry Lover
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Venus and Adonis

Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses;
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses:
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety;
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens;--O! how quick is love:--
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:
Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust,
And govern'd him in strength, though not in lust.
So soon was she along, as he was down,
Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips;
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'
He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks;

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poem by William Shakespeare (1593)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Venus and Adonis

'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

To the right honorable Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
Right honorable.

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation.

Your honour's in all duty.

Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens:--O, how quick is love!--
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:

[...] Read more

poem by William Shakespeare
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A poem, on the rising glory of America

LEANDER.
No more of Memphis and her mighty kings,
Or Alexandria, where the Ptolomies.
Taught golden commerce to unfurl her falls,
And bid fair science smile: No more of Greece
Where learning next her early visit paid,
And spread her glories to illume the world,
No more of Athens, where she flourished,
And saw her sons of mighty genius rise
Smooth flowing Plato, Socrates and him
Who with resistless eloquence reviv'd
The Spir't of Liberty, and shook the thrones
Of Macedon and Persia's haughty king.
No more of Rome enlighten'd by her beams,
Fresh kindling there the fire of eloquence,
And poesy divine; imperial Rome!
Whose wide dominion reach'd o'er half the globe;
Whose eagle flew o'er Ganges to the East,
And in the West far to the British isles.
No more of Britain, and her kings renown'd,
Edward's and Henry's thunderbolts of war;
Her chiefs victorious o'er the Gallic foe;
Illustrious senators, immortal bards,
And wise philosophers, of these no more.
A Theme more new, tho' not less noble claims
Our ev'ry thought on this auspicious day
The rising glory of this western world,
Where now the dawning light of science spreads
Her orient ray, and wakes the muse's song;
Where freedom holds her sacred standard high,
And commerce rolls her golden tides profuse
Of elegance and ev'ry joy of life.

ACASTO.
Since then Leander you attempt a strain
So new, so noble and so full of fame;
And since a friendly concourse centers here
America's own sons, begin O muse!
Now thro' the veil of ancient days review
The period fam'd when first Columbus touch'd
The shore so long unknown, thro' various toils,
Famine and death, the hero made his way,
Thro' oceans bestowing with eternal storms.
But why, thus hap'ly found, should we resume
The tale of Cortez, furious chief, ordain'd
With Indian blood to dye the sands, and choak
Fam'd Amazonia's stream with dead! Or why,
Once more revive the story old in fame,

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poem by Hugh Henry Brackenridge
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Intrigue

THOU art my love
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks
Woe is me.

Thou art my love,
And thou art a storm
That breaks black in the sky
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl
Woe is me!

Thou art my love
And thou art a tinsel thing
And I in my play
Broke thee easily
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow
Woe is me.

Thou art my love
And thou art a weary violet
Drooping from sun-caresses.
Answering mine carelessly
Woe is me.

Thou art my love
And thou art the ashes of other men's love
And I bury my face in these ashes
And I love them
Woe is me.

Thou art my love
And thou art the beard
On another man's face
Woe is me.

Thou art my love
And thou art a temple
And in this temple is an altar
And on this altar is my heart
Woe is me.

Thou art my love
And thou art a wretch.

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poem by Stephen Crane
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