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If you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings and films and me, and there I am. There's nothing behind it.

quote by Andy Warhol
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altieri bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Killing Andy Warhol

Did you ever see the sun rise up
Above this blackened hole
Did you ever feel that what you wants
Not under your control
Ever think that how you feel
Is not quite what you are
Some of us are satellites
Some are superstars
Theyre killing andy warhol
Hes a saint and hes a thief
Well all die a million times
Thats what I believe
Killing andy warhol
Killing andy warhol
They say the rain in europe
Cools you down and helps you think
Water, water everywhere
Nothing you can drink
Kissing andy warhol
His skin feels like a shark
White hair sits so beautiful
Eyelids are so dark
And Im trying to get ahead
Like any boy or girl
Thered be no dictators anywhere
If I could rule the world
Killing andy warhol
Killing andy warhol
Thats impossible - he got all that money
Adorable - having all that money
Feasable - that its all black money
Its so criminal - making all that money
All I want, is what Id want
But I dont want that now
Theyre dressing andy warhol up
If only thay knew how
Jesus on the neon sign
Turns and starts to laugh
And Im thinking about this oxygen
And how Ill make it last
Killing andy warhol
Hes a saint - yeah hes a thief
Motorways are everywhere
With no clean air to breathe
Killing andy warhol
Killing andy warhol
Till the end of time
Till the end of time
Having all that money
Killing andy warhol

[...] Read more

song performed by Simple Minds
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Andy Warhol

(this is andy warhole and its take one, take one)
Its, its warhol actually
(what did I say)
Whole, its whole as in wholes
(andy warhol)
Wah, andy war hol, andy war hol (he)
Like whole hub
He
Ha
Are you ready
(yeah)
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
Like to take a cement fix
Be a standing cinema
Dress my friends up just for show
See them as they really are
Put a peephole in my brain
Two new pence to have a go
Id like to be a gallery
Put you all inside my show
Andy warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy warhol, silver screen
Cant tell them apart at all
Andy walking, andy tired
Andy take a little snooze
Tie him up when hes fast asleep
Send him on a pleasant cruise (hm hm hm)
When he wakes up on the sea
He sure to think of me and you
Hell think about paint and hell think about glue
What a jolly boring thing to do
Andy warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy warhol, silver screen
Cant tell them apart at all
Andy warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy warhol, silver screen
Cant tell them apart at all
(handclaps)

song performed by David Bowie
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This Friendly World

R.E.M., Andy, Tony---This Friendly World
ANDY: Hi, Michael.
MICHAEL: Hi, Andy. Thanks for joining us. Do you
wanna ... you wanna sing a song together?
ANDY: Sure! Is it a sweet song?
MICHAEL: Yeah, it's real sweet.
ANDY: O.K.!
[They laugh.]
MICHAEL:
In this friendly, friendly world
With each day so full of joy
Why should any heart be lonely?
ANDY: My turn!
In this friendly, friendly world
With each night so full of dreams
Why should any heart be afraid?
The world is ...
MICHAEL ANDY:
... such a wonderful place
To wander through
When you've got someone you love
MICHAEL:
To wander along with you
ANDY: O.K., now take every second word! With ...
MICHAEL: ... the ...
ANDY: ... sky ...
MICHAEL: ... so ...
ANDY: ... full ...
MICHAEL: ... of ...
ANDY: ... stars
MICHAEL: And ...
ANDY: ... the ...
MICHAEL: ... river ...
ANDY: ... so ...
MICHAEL: ... full ...
ANDY: ... of ...
MICHAEL: ... song, Every ...
ANDY: ... heart ...
MICHAEL: ... should ...
ANDY: ... be ...
MICHAEL: ... so ...
ANDY: ... thankful
It's a friendly world! Don't you think so, Michael?
MICHAEL: Yup!
TONY: Oh yeah?! What's so friendly about it?!!
This is Tony Clifton, and, and I demand a part in
this song! I'm just as big a part of the movie as
these guys are! And, and I will not sit back while
some sought-after Colonel Kurtz wanna-be, uh, uh
has his day in the sun! I think he's enough

[...] Read more

song performed by REM
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Andy McElroe

My brother Andy said, that for a soldier he would go,
So great excitement came upon the house of McElroe.
My father sold a bog-hole to equip him for the war.
And my mother sold the cushions of her Sunday jaunting car.
And when brave Andy reach'd the front, 'twas furious
work he made,
They appointed him a private in the Crocodile Brigade.
The sound of Andy's battle cry struck terror thro' the foe.
His foot was on the desert and his name was McElroe.
At least that's what the letter said that came across the foam.
To Andy's anxious relatives awaiting him at home.
The papers say he ran away before he met the foe.
But that was quite unlike the style of Andy McElroe.

One morning brave Lord Wolseley for a battle felt inclined;
But all could see the general had something on his mind;
Sez he, 'My staff, 'twere dangerous to face yon deadly foe,
Unless we're sure that quite prepared is Andy McElroe.'
Then Andy cried, 'I'm here, my lord, and ready for the fray,'
'Advance then,' cried Lord Wolseley, 'and let every trumpet bray.'
Then England, Ireland, Scotland, rolled together on the foe,
But far ahead of everyone rushed Andy McElroe.
At least, that's what the letter said that came across the foam
To Andy's anxious relatives, awaiting him at home.
The government despatches had another tale- but no!
We won't believe a word against brave Andy McElroe.

The Mahdi had gone up a tree, a spyglass in his eye,
To see his Paynim chivalry the northern prowess try;
But soon he saw a form of dread, and cried in tones of woe,
'Be jabers let me out of this - there's Andy McElroe.'
Then down he hurried from his tree, and straight away he ran,
To keep appointments, as he said, in distant Kordofan,
And fled those Arab soldiery like sand siroccos blow,
Pursued (with much profanity) by Andy McElroe.
At least, that's what he told us when returning o'er the foam
To greet his anxious relatives, awaiting him at home.
So sing the song of triumph, and let all your bumpers flow,
In honour of our countryman, brave Andrew McElroe.

poem by William Percy French
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Andy Veto

Andy Veto never slept a wink last night;
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
Andy had to take us extra drink last night;
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
There was one who led you thro' the sea, you know,
He who paid his life, and left you free, you know;
But Andy V. receipts the bill, so he, you know--
Why, darkeys, he's your Moses!

Come! Come! Joshua, come!
Don't you think it's time the journey closes?
For you kwow we'll never stand in the promised land
While Andy Veto's our Moses.

Moses can't afford to let his people vote;
Darkey's, he's your Moses!
He must watch his little flock, his own scapegoat,
For, darkeys he's your Moses!
Thinking of you brings him wakeful nights, you know;
You might up and take your "civil rights," you know,
And make a "war of roses" with the whites, you know;
So, darkeys, he's your Moses!

Andy Veto thought he wore a crown last night;
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
When the people spoke, it tumbled down last night;
But, darkeys, he's your Moses!
Were it not a pretty sight--methinks I see
Thirty million loyal people, proud and free,
Around the throne of Andy Veto bend the knee;
Oh, darkeys, he's your Moses!

Andy Veto been a fishing for "another term;"
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
Guess that when vacation comes we'll change the firm,
If, darkeys, he's your Moses!
Ev'ry-thing is going wrong while Andy leads;
We must change the diet on which Andy feeds;
Ah! "reconstruction," that is just what Andy needs;
And, darkeys, he's your Moses!

poem by Henry Clay Work
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Book IV - Part 03 - The Senses And Mental Pictures

Bodies that strike the eyes, awaking sight.
From certain things flow odours evermore,
As cold from rivers, heat from sun, and spray
From waves of ocean, eater-out of walls
Around the coasts. Nor ever cease to flit
The varied voices, sounds athrough the air.
Then too there comes into the mouth at times
The wet of a salt taste, when by the sea
We roam about; and so, whene'er we watch
The wormword being mixed, its bitter stings.
To such degree from all things is each thing
Borne streamingly along, and sent about
To every region round; and Nature grants
Nor rest nor respite of the onward flow,
Since 'tis incessantly we feeling have,
And all the time are suffered to descry
And smell all things at hand, and hear them sound.
Besides, since shape examined by our hands
Within the dark is known to be the same
As that by eyes perceived within the light
And lustrous day, both touch and sight must be
By one like cause aroused. So, if we test
A square and get its stimulus on us
Within the dark, within the light what square
Can fall upon our sight, except a square
That images the things? Wherefore it seems
The source of seeing is in images,
Nor without these can anything be viewed.

Now these same films I name are borne about
And tossed and scattered into regions all.
But since we do perceive alone through eyes,
It follows hence that whitherso we turn
Our sight, all things do strike against it there
With form and hue. And just how far from us
Each thing may be away, the image yields
To us the power to see and chance to tell:
For when 'tis sent, at once it shoves ahead
And drives along the air that's in the space
Betwixt it and our eyes. And thus this air
All glides athrough our eyeballs, and, as 'twere,
Brushes athrough our pupils and thuswise
Passes across. Therefore it comes we see
How far from us each thing may be away,
And the more air there be that's driven before,
And too the longer be the brushing breeze
Against our eyes, the farther off removed
Each thing is seen to be: forsooth, this work
With mightily swift order all goes on,
So that upon one instant we may see

[...] Read more

poem by Lucretius
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Father Riley's Horse

'Twas the horse thief, Andy Regan, that was hunted like a dog
By the troopers of the upper Murray side,
They had searched in every gully -- they had looked in every log,
But never sight or track of him they spied,
Till the priest at Kiley's Crossing heard a knocking very late
And a whisper "Father Riley -- come across!"
So his Rev'rence in pyjamas trotted softly to the gate
And admitted Andy Regan -- and a horse!
"Now, it's listen, Father Riley, to the words I've got to say,
For it's close upon my death I am tonight.
With the troopers hard behind me I've been hiding all the day
In the gullies keeping close and out of sight.
But they're watching all the ranges till there's not a bird could fly,
And I'm fairly worn to pieces with the strife,
So I'm taking no more trouble, but I'm going home to die,
'Tis the only way I see to save my life.

"Yes, I'm making home to mother's, and I'll die o' Tuesday next
An' be buried on the Thursday -- and, of course,
I'm prepared to meet my penance, but with one thing I'm perplexed
And it's -- Father, it's this jewel of a horse!
He was never bought nor paid for, and there's not a man can swear
To his owner or his breeder, but I know,
That his sire was by Pedantic from the Old Pretender mare
And his dam was close related to The Roe.

"And there's nothing in the district that can race him for a step,
He could canter while they're going at their top:
He's the king of all the leppers that was ever seen to lep,
A five-foot fence -- he'd clear it in a hop!
So I'll leave him with you, Father, till the dead shall rise again,
Tis yourself that knows a good 'un; and, of course,
You can say he's got by Moonlight out of Paddy Murphy's plain
If you're ever asked the breeding of the horse!

"But it's getting on to daylight and it's time to say goodbye,
For the stars above the east are growing pale.
And I'm making home to mother -- and it's hard for me to die!
But it's harder still, is keeping out of gaol!
You can ride the old horse over to my grave across the dip
Where the wattle bloom is waving overhead.
Sure he'll jump them fences easy -- you must never raise the whip
Or he'll rush 'em! -- now, goodbye!" and he had fled!

So they buried Andy Regan, and they buried him to rights,
In the graveyard at the back of Kiley's Hill;
There were five-and-twenty mourners who had five-and-twenty fights
Till the very boldest fighters had their fill.
There were fifty horses racing from the graveyard to the pub,
And their riders flogged each other all the while.

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Man On The Moon

Mott the hoople and the game of life. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Andy kaufman in the wrestling match. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Monopoly, twenty one, checkers, and chess. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mister fred blassie in a breakfast mess. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Lets play twister, lets play risk. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
See you heaven if you make the list. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey, andy did you hear about this one? tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey andy are you goofing on elvis? hey, baby. are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.
If you believe theres nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool.
Moses went walking with the staff of wood. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Newton got beaned by the apple good. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mister charles darwin had the gall to ask. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey andy did you hear about this one? tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey, andy are you goofing on elvis? hey, baby. are you having fun?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.
If you believe theres nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool.
Heres a little agit for the never-believer. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Heres a little ghost for the offering. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Heres a truck stop instead of saint peters. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mister andy kaufmans gone wrestling [wrestling bears]. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey andy did you hear about this one? tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey andy are you goofing on elvis, hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.
If you believe theres nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool.

song performed by REM
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Man In The Moon

Mott the Hoople and the game of Life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Andy Kaufman in the wrestling match. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Monopoly, Twenty one, checkers, and chess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mister Fred Blassie in a breakfast mess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Let's play Twister, let's play Risk. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
See you in heaven if you make the list. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Now, Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Andy are you goofing on Elvis? Hey, baby. Are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.
If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve, then nothing is cool.
Moses went walking with the staff of wood. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Newton got beaned by the apple good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mister Charles Darwin had the gall to ask. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Now Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Andy are you goofing on Elvis? Hey, baby. Are you having fun?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.
If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve, then nothing is cool.
Here's a little agit for the never-believer. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Here's a little ghost for the offering. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Here's a truck stop instead of Saint Peter's. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mister Andy Kaufman's gone wrestling [wrestling bears]. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Now Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Andy are you goofing on Elvis, hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.
If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve, then nothing is cool

song performed by REM
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Lynne And Andy

R.E.M.---Lynne Andy
ANDY: Hey!
LYNNE: (laughing) What?
ANDY: Wanna go to Memphis and get married?
[Pause.]
LYNNE: Do I wanna go to Memphis and get married???
ANDY: Mm hmm...
LYNNE: Wha-haa? (Pauses, then changes tone.) Why Memphis?
ANDY: Because Memphis is the wrestling capital of the
world. I'll get up in the ring, and I'll announce that the
I'll marry the FIRST woman who beats me. Then you can get up,
and we'll wrestle, and I'll let you win, and ...
LYNNE: You'll let me win? (laughs.)
ANDY: ... yes, I'll let you win. I'll let you. Then we'll run
off and get married on the David Letterman show.
LYNNE: God.
ANDY: O.K.? (He kisses her.) Whaddaya say?
LYNNE: Is this for real???
[Instrumental]

song performed by REM
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Andy's Gone With Cattle

Our Andy's gone to battle now
'Gainst Drought, the red marauder;
Our Andy's gone with cattle now
Across the Queensland border.

He's left us in dejection now;
Our hearts with him are roving.
It's dull on this selection now,
Since Andy went a-droving.

Who now shall wear the cheerful face
In times when things are slackest?
And who shall whistle round the place
When Fortune frowns her blackest?

Oh, who shall cheek the squatter now
When he comes round us snarling?
His tongue is growing hotter now
Since Andy cross'd the Darling.

The gates are out of order now,
In storms the `riders' rattle;
For far across the border now
Our Andy's gone with cattle.

Poor Aunty's looking thin and white;
And Uncle's cross with worry;
And poor old Blucher howls all night
Since Andy left Macquarie.

Oh, may the showers in torrents fall,
And all the tanks run over;
And may the grass grow green and tall
In pathways of the drover;

And may good angels send the rain
On desert stretches sandy;
And when the summer comes again
God grant 'twill bring us Andy.

poem by Henry Lawson
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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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I Will Not Paint Those Paintings

I used to see paintings in my mind's eyes
I used to dream scenes amazing paintings
I used to dream paintings in sleep sight
paintings in details I had never seen before

paintings which stopped heart in sight shock
I knew canvases were awkward hard to carry
to travel with poems is only paper and pen
paint your paintings inspiring I write poems

I will not soul carry paint those paintings

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia

(bobby russell)
He was on his way home from candletop
Been two weeks gone and he thought hed stop
At webs and have him a drink for he went home to her
Andy wo-lo said hello
He said hi whats a doing
Wo said sit down I got some bad news thats gonna hurt
Said Im your best friend and you know thats right
But your young bride aint home tonight
Since you been gone shes been seeing that amos boy seth
He got mad and he saw red
Andy said boy dont you lose your head
Cause to tell you the truth Ive been with her myself
Chorus:
Thats the night the lights went out in georgia
Thats the night that they hung an innocent man
Dont trust your soul to no back woods southern lawyer
Cause the judge in the towns got bloodstains on his hand
Andy got scared and left the bar
Walking on home cause he didnt live far you see
Andy didnt have many friends and he just lost him one
Brother thought his wife mustve left town
So he went home and finally found the only thing
Daddy had left him and that was a gun
He went off to andys house
Slipping through the back woods quiet as a mouse
Came upon some tracks too small for andy to make
He looked through the screen at the back porch door
He saw andy lying on the floor
In a puddle of blood and he started to shake
The georgia patrol was making their rounds
So he fired a shot just to flag em down
And a big bellied sheriff grabbed his gun and said
Whyd you do it?
The judge said guilty in a make believe trial
Slapped the sherrif on the back with a smile and said
Suppers waiting at home and I got to get to it
Chorus
They hung my brother before I could say
The tracks he saw while on his way
To andys house and back that night were mine
And his cheatin wife had never left town
And thats one body thatll be found
You see little sister dont miss when she aims her gun
Repeat chorus twice

song performed by Reba Mcentire
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Andy at Studio 205

Andy sits in Studio 205
that has many gifts on shelves inside
-like a scope that does collide.
Andy has every occasion greeting cards
-to send happy thoughts or your best regards.
He has spell books, and colored candles too
-interesting knick knacks, even voodoo.
Yes, a voodoo doll that is really cool.
Voodoo doll has the fantastic price of $9.99
place needles in pressure points on body so fine.
He has an armless chicken with a bikini on-
She looks respectful because she's not wearing a thong
-unlike the room with the colorful dongs.
Andy helps people with problems no matter what day-
He is filled with wisdom and knows the right thing to say.
On my Birthday he gave me a mermaid Dora doll
-he knew I didn't want a black & white stuffed cow.
I performed by reading Sarah's Special Birthday
with my doll Melodie Mezoree'.
I was promoting my show in front of his store-
with Barnes & Noble reading flyers once more.
Andy supports local Artist and I remember him say-
"It's all about you—not me today"
Andy just ran for City Commissioner
-in this Lake Worth town-
Andy gets the people's vote-he won the crown!

Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 9,2011

poem by Christina Sunrise
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Andy at Studio 205

Andy sits in Studio 205
that has many gifts on shelves inside
-like a scope that does collide.
Andy has every occasion greeting cards
-to send happy thoughts or your best regards.
He has spell books, and colored candles too
-interesting knick knacks, even voodoo.
Yes, a voodoo doll that is really cool.
Voodoo doll has the fantastic price of $9.99
place needles in pressure points on body so fine.
He has an armless chicken with a bikini on-
She looks respectful because she's not wearing a thong
-unlike the room with the colorful dongs.
Andy helps people with problems no matter what day-
He is filled with wisdom and knows the right thing to say.
On my Birthday he gave me a mermaid Dora doll
-he knew I didn't want a black & white stuffed cow.
I performed by reading Sarah's Special Birthday
with my doll Melodie Mezoree'.
I was promoting my show in front of his store-
with Barnes & Noble reading flyers once more.
Andy supports local Artist and I remember him say-
"It's all about you—not me today"
Andy just ran for City Commissioner
-in this Lake Worth town-
Andy gets the people's vote-he won the crown!

Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 9,2011

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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His Mate

IT MAY have been a fragment of that higher
Truth dreams, at times, disclose;
It may have been to Fond Illusion nigher—
But thus the story goes:
A fierce sun glared upon a gaunt land, stricken
With barrenness and thirst,
Where Nature’s pulse with joy of Spring would quicken
No more; a land accurst.

Gray salt-bush grimmer made the desolation—
Like mocking immortelles
Strewn on the graveyard of a perished nation
Whose name no record tells.

No faintest sign of distant water glimmered
The aching eye to bless;
The far horizon like a sword’s edge shimmered,
Keen, gleaming, pitiless.

And all the long day through the hot air quivered
Beneath a burning sky,
In dazzling dance of heat that flashed and shivered:
It seemed as if hard by

The borders of this region, evil-favoured,
Life ended, Death began:
But no; upon the plain a shadow wavered—
The shadow of a man.

What man was this by Fate or Folly driven
To cross the dreadful plain?
A pilgrim poor? or Ishmael unforgiven?
The man was Andy Blane,

A stark old sinner, and a stout, as ever
Blue swag has carried through
That grim, wild land men name the Never-Never,
Beyond the far Barcoo.

His strength was failing now, but his unfailing
Strong spirit still upbore
And drove him on with courage yet unquailing,
In spite of weakness sore.

When, lo! beside a clump of salt-bush lying,
All suddenly he found
A stranger, who before his eyes seemed dying
Of thirst, without a sound.

Straightway beside that stranger on the sandy

[...] Read more

poem by Victor James Daley
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Hello Its Me

Andy, its me, havent seen you in a while
I wished I talked to you more when you were alive
I thought you were self-assured when you acted shy
Hello its me
I really miss you, I really miss your mind
I havent heard ideas like that in such a long, long time
I loved to watch you draw and watch you paint
But when I saw you last, I turned away
When billy name was sick and locked up in his room
You asked me for some speed, I though it was for you
Im sorry that I doubted your good heart
Things always seem to end before they start
Hello its me, that was a great gallery show
Your cow wallpaper and your floating silver pillows
I wish I paid more attention when they laughed at you
Hello its me
Pop goes pop artist, the headline said
Is shooting a put-on, is warhol really dead
You get less time for stealing a car
I remember thinking as I heard my own record in a bar
They really hated you, now all thats changed
But I have some resentments that can never be unmade
You hit me where it hurt I didnt laugh
Your diaries are not a worthy epitaph
Oh well, now andy, guess weve got to go
I wish some way somehow you like this little show
I know its late in coming but its the only way I know
Hello its me
Goodnight, andy
Goodbye, andy

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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