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I haven't shaved my private parts, but I dyed them once for a laugh! They looked more ginger, though!

quote by Lee Ryan
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Carrolling II-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

Carolling II

He Thought He Saw

He thought he saw new Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and found it was
a mirage for each year
sees more control, “what rôle, ” he said,
“for values once held dear?
Some track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.'

He dreamt he saw spam disappear,
all consultations free,
he looked again and found it was
a spybot lottery.
“Is net neutrality”, he said,
“from rash risks viral clear? ”

He dreamt that Microsoft would steer
all trash deleted fast,
then woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello,
with an attachment piece,
he looked again and found it was
the porno scanning police.
“Politically correct”, he said,
“can’t guarantee release.”

He opened it, discovered though,
a trojan horse to fleece –
he looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice hoarse and low:
'when will our worries cease? ”

He thought he saw a hierophant,
who’d deal successful life,
he looked again and found it was
subpoena from ex-wife
demanding child support, he said,
“cards are cut by Time’s knife.”

He looked once more with rage and rant
and swore like a fishwife

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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We Came From Outer Space

(lowe/tennant)
-----------------
Hi -i- (hello)
Hello? my name is -
- very complicated with the -
With the police?
Yes, all
Were, were just here
What is this? what is that?
- complication high of it -
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
We came from outer space to
To our parents parents, ... parents
Parents?
Hi -i- (hello)
Hello? my name is -
- very complicated with the -
Do you know the difference between the two genders?
Yes, all
What is this? what is that? no.
We came from outer space to
Somebody from california said something about men and women
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
Do you know anything about what -
We came from outer space to
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) I love you
Weve been having some problems with the communication now and then
Do you know the difference between the two genders?
- black rain -
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
Do you know the difference between the two genders?
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
We came from outer space to
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
We came from outer space to
Hi -i- (hello)
Hello? my name is -
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) dont leave me

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Duck an' Fowl

Now, when a bloke 'e cracks a bloke fer insults to a skirt,
An' wrecks a joint to square a lady's name,
They used to call it chivalry, but now they calls it dirt,
An' the end of it is cops an' quod an' shame.
Fer insults to fair Gwendoline they 'ad to be wiped out;
But Rosie's sort is jist fair game-when Ginger ain't about.

It was Jimmie Ah Foo's cook-shop, which is close be Spadger's Lane,
Where a variegated comp'ny tears the scran,
An' there's some is 'tup'ny coloured,' an' some is 'penny plain,'
Frum a lawyer to a common lumper-man.
Or a writer fer the papers, or a slaver on the prowl,
An' noiseless Chows a-glidin' 'round wiv plates uv duck an' fowl.

But if yeh wanted juicy bits that 'ung around Foo's perch
Yeh fetched 'em down an' wolfed 'em in yer place.
An' Foo sat sad an' solim, like an 'oly man in church,
Wiv an early-martyr look upon 'is face;
Wot never changed, not even when a toff upon a jag
Tried to pick up Ginger's Rosie, an' collided wiv a snag.

Ginger Mick's bin at the races, an' 'e'd made a little rise,
'Avin' knowed a bloke wot knowed the trainer's cook.
An' easy money's very sweet, as punters reckernise,
An' sweetest when yeh've prized it orf a 'book.'
So Ginger calls fer Rosic, an' to celerbrate 'is win
'E trots 'er down to Ah Foo's joint to splash a bit uv tin.

There wus lights, an' smells of Asia, an' a strange, Chow-'aunted scene;
Floatin' scraps of forrin lingo 'it the car;
But Rose sails in an' takes 'er scat like any soshul queen
Sich as stokes 'erself wiv foy grass orl the year.
'Duck an' Fowl' 's 'er nomination; so ole Ginger jerks 'is frame
'Cross to git some fancy pickin's, an' to give 'is choice a name.

While Ginger paws the tucker, an' 'as words about the price,
There's a shickered toff slings Rosie goo-goo eyes.
'E's a mug 'oo thinks 'e's 'it a flamin' 'all uv scarlet vice
An' 'e picks on gentle Rosie fer a prize.
Then 'e tries to play at 'andies, an' arrange about a meet;
But Rosie fetches 'im a welt that shifts 'im in 'is seat.

Ginger's busy makin' bargins, an' 'e never seen the clout;
'E is 'agglin' wiv Ah Foo fer 'arf a duck;
But the toff's too shick or silly fer to 'cave 'is carkis out,
An' to fade while goin's good an' 'e's in luck.
Then Ginger clinched 'is bargin, an', as down the room 'e came,
'E seen the toff jump fritm 'is seat, an' call the girl a name.

That done it. Less than larf a mo, an' 'ell got orf the chain;

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Ginger's Cobber

''E wears perjarmer soots an' cleans 'is teeth,'
That's wot I reads. It fairly knocked me flat,
'Me soljer cobber, be the name o' Keith.'
Well, if that ain't the limit, strike me fat!
The sort that Ginger Mick would think beneath
'Is notice once. Perjarmers! Cleans 'is teeth?

Ole Ginger Mick 'as sent a billy-doo
Frum somew'ere on the earth where fightin' thick.
The Censor wus a sport to let it thro',
Considerin' the choice remarks o' Mick.
It wus that 'ot, I'm wond'rin' since it came
It didn't set the bloomin' mail aflame.

I'd love to let yeh 'ave it word fer word;
But, strickly, it's a bit above the odds;
An' there's remarks that's 'ardly ever 'eard
Amongst the company to w'ich we nods.
It seems they use the style in Ginger's trench
Wot's written out an' 'anded to the Bench.

I tones the langwidge down to soot the ears
Of sich as me an' you resorts wiv now.
If I should give it jist as it appears
Partic'lar folk might want ter make a row.
But say, yeh'd think ole Ginger wus a pote
If yeh could read some juicy bits 'e's wrote.

It's this noo pal uv 'is that tickles me;
'E's got a mumma, an' 'is name is Keith.
A knut upon the Block le used to be,
'Ome 'ere; the sort that flashes golden teeth,
An' wears 'or socks, an' torks a lot o' guff;
But Ginger sez they're cobbers till they snuff.

It come about like this: Mick spragged 'im first
Fer swankin' it too much abroad the ship.
'E 'ad nice manners an' 'e never cursed;
Which set Mick's teeth on edge, as you may tip.
Likewise, 'e 'ad two silver brushes, w'ich
'Is mumma give 'im, 'cos 'e fancied sich.

Mick pinched 'em. Not, as you will understand,
Becos uv any base desire fer loot,
But jist becos, in that rough soljer band,
Them silver-backed arrangements didn't soot:
An' etiket must be observed always.
(They fetched ten drinks in Cairo, Ginger says.)

That satisfied Mick's honour fer a bit,

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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GINGER SNAPS...by talile ali

ONE OF THE STRANGEST TRUTHS, I GUESS
I ALWAYS KNOW GIRLS THAT I WANT TO UNDRESS
IT SEEMS KINDA STRANGE, BUT WHAT CAN I SAY
IF THEY LIKE GINGER SNAP'S, I KNOW THAT I'LL GET MY WAY

CHORUS

GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
I AM SUCH A FAN OF THOSE GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
SEND ME THE WOMEN I NEED

I SAID IT WAS STRANGE, BUT I'M NOT MAKING IT UP
IF THEY LIKE GINGER SNAPS, I'LL BE EATIN THEM UP
MAYBE IT'S JUST MY THINKIN, BUT I CAN SAY I FEEL
THE SIMPLE FACT TO ME STEPS INTO THE SURREAL

CHORUS

GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
I AM SUCH A FAN OF THOSE GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
SEND ME THE WOMEN I NEED

poem by Talile Ali
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The Haggis Of Private McPhee

"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me?
It fair maks me hamesick," says Private McPhee.
"And whit did she send ye?" says Private McPhun,
As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun.
"A haggis! A Haggis!" says Private McPhee;
"The brawest big haggis I ever did see.
And think! it's the morn when fond memory turns
Tae haggis and whuskey--the Birthday o' Burns.
We maun find a dram; then we'll ca' in the rest
O' the lads, and we'll hae a Burns' Nicht wi' the best."

"Be ready at sundoon," snapped Sergeant McCole;
"I want you two men for the List'nin' Patrol."
Then Private McPhee looked at Private McPhun:
"I'm thinkin', ma lad, we're confoundedly done."
Then Private McPhun looked at Private McPhee:
"I'm thinkin' auld chap, it's a' aff wi' oor spree."
But up spoke their crony, wee Wullie McNair:
"Jist lea' yer braw haggis for me tae prepare;
And as for the dram, if I search the camp roun',
We maun hae a drappie tae jist haud it doon.
Sae rin, lads, and think, though the nicht it be black,
O' the haggis that's waitin' ye when ye get back."

My! but it wis waesome on Naebuddy's Land,
And the deid they were rottin' on every hand.
And the rockets like corpse candles hauntit the sky,
And the winds o' destruction went shudderin' by.
There wis skelpin' o' bullets and skirlin' o' shells,
And breengin' o' bombs and a thoosand death-knells;
But cooryin' doon in a Jack Johnson hole
Little fashed the twa men o' the List'nin' Patrol.
For sweeter than honey and bricht as a gem
Wis the thocht o' the haggis that waitit for them.

Yet alas! in oor moments o' sunniest cheer
Calamity's aften maist cruelly near.
And while the twa talked o' their puddin' divine
The Boches below them were howkin' a mine.
And while the twa cracked o' the feast they would hae,
The fuse it wis burnin' and burnin' away.
Then sudden a roar like the thunner o' doom,
A hell-leap o' flame . . . then the wheesht o' the tomb.

"Haw, Jock! Are ye hurtit?" says Private McPhun.
"Ay, Geordie, they've got me; I'm fearin' I'm done.
It's ma leg; I'm jist thinkin' it's aff at the knee;
Ye'd best gang and leave me," says Private McPhee.
"Oh leave ye I wunna," says Private McPhun;
"And leave ye I canna, for though I micht run,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert William Service
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Carrolling - Parody Lewis CARROLL – The Mad Gardener’s Song

He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.

He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,
he opened to discover, though,
a trojan horse release –
He looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice timbre low:
‘I’ll send for the Police! ”

He thought he saw a heirophant
predicting happy life.
He looked again, with rage and rant
discovered from ex-wife
an email angry claiming scant
support, which threatened strife:
“At length I see the immanent
attraction of Time’s knife! ”

He dreamt he saw as he awake
the euro reach a peak,
he saw he dreamt that Bush half bake
would leave the dollar weak: -
he woke to find what grave mistake
was made for the next week
the politicians put a stake
in budget – rocked boats leak!

He thought he saw Commission clerk
jump on bandwagon bus,
he looked again, just for a lark,
and found no tinker’s cuss
the former cared for bite was bark -

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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She Thought She Saw-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

She Thought She Saw

She thought she saw quite equal pay
afforded equal work,
she looked again and found it was
a most unusual quirk.
“That men should keep their cake, ” she said,
“and eat it too, must irk.”

She thought she saw that light of day
would filter through each jerk,
she looked again and found it was
belief most held beserk.
“That men should nappies change, ” she said,
“would wipe off every smirk! ”

She thought she saw fair interplay
where men would never shirk,
she looked again and found it was
a most miasmic murk
where rights were flouted, - “Hey! ” she said,
“men stand, wait, feeble lurk! ”

(15 April 2007 Parody Lewis CARROLL Some Hallucinations
The Mad Gardener's Dream Sylvie and Bruno Ch.5 See below Carolling and Carolling II)

Carolling

He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.

He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Into how many parts would you divide the child after Divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many insane parts would you divide your new-born child’s eternal happiness; after your treacherously vindictive divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many heartless parts would you divide your new-born child’s invincible freedom; after your venomously unbearable divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ribald parts would you divide your new-born child’s unsurpassable creativity; after your lethally unceremonious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many salacious parts would you divide your new-born child’s majestic destiny; after your lecherously ignominious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many emotionless parts would you divide your new-born child’s triumphant spirit; after your contemptuously debasing divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many terrorizing parts would you divide your new-born child’s unbridled fantasies; after your abhorrently cadaverous divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many excruciating parts would you divide your new-born child’s humanitarian blood; after your cold-bloodedly cannibalistic divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many tyrannized parts would you divide your new-born child’s unconquerable artistry; after your violently besmirching divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many reproachful parts would you divide your new-born child’s redolent playfulness; after your despicably devastating divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sacrilegious parts would you divide your new-born child’s impregnable mischief; after your sadistically bemoaning divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many wanton parts would you divide your new-born child’s impeccable integrity; after your hedonistically carnivorous divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ghoulish parts would you divide your new-born child’s limitless fertility; after your mindlessly malicious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many diabolical parts would you divide your new- born child’s infallible innocence; after your unforgivably truculent divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many vengeful parts would you divide your new-born child’s uninhibited cries; after your preposterously bigoted divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many criminal parts would you divide your new-born child’s princely silkenness; after your tempestuously confounding divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many satanic parts would you divide your new-born child’s tiny brain; after your barbarously ungainly divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sadistic parts would you divide your new-born child’s unlimited curiosity; after your egregiously dastardly divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many carnivorous parts would you divide your new-born child’s parental longing; after your inanely decrepit divorce?

And you might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but tell me; into how many goddamned parts would you divide your new-born child’s immortal love; after your devilishly vituperative divorce?

©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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In Private

Yo wussup baby?
Its been a while since I seen you.
See tonight we gonna do something a lil different.
See we gonna do it like this...
Oh weekend alone, waters running, bubbles bublin.
No kids, no work, no phones, pagers.
Im gon give you what youre worth.
I just wanna take all your worries away.
All away.
Meet me at our weekend getaway, just you and me.
When were in private.
I just wanna see the things that I dont get to see.
But now its you and me.
Were in private.
Call your girls and tellem you aint going nowhere.
Its getting hot in here.
In private.
Hot suds, good love, champagne, maintain in a heart-shaped tub.
In private.
Think of all the things we can do, well do.
When it's just me and you.
See this is an exclusive.
So damn secluded.
No one will know where were at.
Just me and you.
Ill eat strawberries of off you.
Before I get on top of you, baby.
I just wanna take all your troubles away.
So dont trip, no lip.
Lets get this love train goin.
I'm on my way.
When were in private.
I just wanna see the things that I dont get to see.
But now its you and me.
Were in private.
Call your girls and tellem you aint going nowhere.
Its getting hot in here.
In private.
Hot suds, good love, champagne,
maintain in a heart-shaped tub.
In private.
Think of all the things we can do, well do.
When it's just me and you.
You can let your hair down.
You can be freaky as you want to be.
No one can hear a sound.
Baby, you scream as loud...
When were in private.
I just wanna see the things that I dont get to see.
But now its you and me.

[...] Read more

song performed by Jagged Edge
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Private Joy

My little secret, my private joy
I could never let another play with my toy
My little angel from heaven above
oh oh oh oh oh I think I'm falling in love
And I ain't gonna tell nobody nobody 'bout my little pretty toy
All the other kids would love to love u but u're my little private joy
my private joy -- u're my private joy
private joy -- such a pretty toy
joy, u are my private joy
U're my little lover, Orgasmatron
Only I know, only I know, baby, what turns u on
U're my little secret neon light
Girl I wanna turn it on turn it on turn it on every night
Ain't gonna tell nobody nobody 'bout my little pretty toy
All the other kids would love to love u but u're my little private joy
my private joy -- u're my private joy
private joy -- such a pretty toy
joy -- oh my private joy
Shoot me up baby, let's take a trip
I can't get enough can't get enough of your private private joy joy
joy -- such a such a pretty toy
joy -- u are my private joy
joy -- shoot me up baby, let's take a trip
joy -- can't get enough of your private
joy -- come on honey baby get up, get up
I strangled Valentino (He strangled Valentino)
Been mine ever since (been his ever since)
If anybody asks u (if anybody asks u)
U belong to Prince (U belong to Prince)
come on baby, get up, get up, get up, get up

song performed by Prince
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Privat Joy

My little secret, my private joy
I could never let another play with my toy
My little angel from heaven above
Oh oh oh oh oh I think Im falling in love
And I aint gonna tell nobody nobody bout my little pretty toy
All the other kids would love to love u but ure my little private joy
My private joy -- ure my private joy
Private joy -- such a pretty toy
Joy, u are my private joy
Ure my little lover, orgasmatron
Only I know, only I know, baby, what turns u on
Ure my little secret neon light
Girl I wanna turn it on turn it on turn it on every night
Aint gonna tell nobody nobody bout my little pretty toy
All the other kids would love to love u but ure my little private joy
My private joy -- ure my private joy
Private joy -- such a pretty toy
Joy -- oh my private joy
Shoot me up baby, lets take a trip
I cant get enough cant get enough of your private private joy joy
Joy -- such a such a pretty toy
Joy -- u are my private joy
Joy -- shoot me up baby, lets take a trip
Joy -- cant get enough of your private
Joy -- come on honey baby get up, get up
I strangled valentino (he strangled valentino)
Been mine ever since (been his ever since)
If anybody asks u (if anybody asks u)
U belong to prince (u belong to prince)
Come on baby, get up, get up, get up, get up

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Introduction to Ginger Mick

Jist to intraj'uice me cobber, an 'is name is Ginger Mick
A rorty boy, a naughty boy, wiv rude impressions thick
In 'is casu'l conversation, an' the wicked sort o' face
That gives the sudden shudders to the lor-abidin' race.

'Is name is on the records at the Melbourne City Court,
Fer doin' things an' sayin' things no reel nice feller ort;
An 'is name is on the records uv the Army, over there,
Fer doin' things - same sort o' things that rose the Bench's 'air.

They never rung no joy-bells when 'e made 'is first de- boo;
But 'e got free edjication, w'ich they fondly shoved 'im thro';
Then turned 'im loose in Spadger's Lane to 'ang around the street
An' 'elp the cop to re-erlize the 'ardness uv 'is beat.

Then 'e quickly dropped 'is aitches, so as not to be mistook
Fer an edjicated person, 'oo 'is cobbers reckoned crook;
But 'e 'ad a trick wiv figgers that ud make a clerk look sick;
So 'e pencilled fer a bookie; an' 'e 'awked a bit, did Mick.

A bloke can't be partic'lar 'oo must battle fer a crust;
An' some, they pinch fer preference, an' some, becos they must.
When times is 'ard, an' some swell coves is richer than they ort;
Well, it's jist a little gamble fer a rise, agin the Court.

Now, Mick wus never in it as a reel perfeshnal crook,
But sometimes cops 'as slabs uv luck, so sometimes 'e wus took,
An' 'e got a repitation, thro' 'im bein' twice interned;
But 'e didn't skite about it, 'cos 'e felt it wasn't earned.

I reckerlect one time a Beak slings Mick a slab uv guff,
Wiv 'Thirty days or forty bob' (Mick couldn't raise the stuff) -
An' arsts 'im where 'is conshuns is, an' w'y 'e can't be good,
An' Mick jist grins, an' takes it out, an' never understood.

An' that is orl there wus to Mick, wiv orl 'is leery ways.
If I wus up among the 'eads, wiv right to blame or praise,
Whenever some sich bloke as 'im wus tucked away fer good
I'd chalk them words above 'is 'ead: ''E never understood.'

If I wus up among the 'eads, wiv right to judge the game,
I'd look around fer chance to praise, an' sling the flamin' blame;
Fer findin' things in blokes to praise pays divvies either way;
An' wot they're blamed fer yesterd'y brings 'earty cheers to-day.

Yes, 'earty cheers frum thortless coots 'oo feel dead sure their God
Would never 'ave no time fer crooks 'oo does a stretch in quod;
'Oo reckon 'eaven is a place where orl folk tork correck,
An' judgment, where the 'vulgar' gits it solid in the neck.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Push

Becos a crook done in a prince, an' narked an Emperor,
An' struck a light that set the world aflame;
Becos the bugles East an' West sooled on the dawgs o' war,
A bloke called Ginger Mick 'as found 'is game
Found 'is game an' found 'is brothers, 'oo wus strangers in 'is sight,
Till they shed their silly clobber an' put on the duds fer fight.

Yes, they've shed their silly clobber an' the other stuff they wore
Fer to 'ide the man beneath it in the past;
An' each man is the clean, straight man 'is Maker meant 'im for,
An' each man knows 'is brother man at last.
Shy strangers, till a bugle blast preached 'oly brother'ood;
But mateship they 'ave found at last; an' they 'ave found it good.

So the lumper, an' the lawyer, an' the chap 'oo shifted sand,
They are cobbers wiv the cove 'oo drove a quill;
They knut 'oo swung a cane upon the Block, 'e takes the 'and
Uv the coot 'oo swung a pick on Broken 'Ill;
An' Privit Clord Augustus drills wiv Privit Snarky Jim
They are both Australian soljers, w'ich is good enough fer 'im.

It's good enough fer orl uv 'em, as orl uv 'em 'ave seen
Since they got the same glad clobber next their skins;
An' the bloke 'oo 'olds the boodle an' the coot wivout a bean,
Why, they knock around like little Kharki twins.
An' they got a common lingo, w'ich is growin' mighty thick
Wiv ixpressive contributions frum the stock uv Ginger Mick.

'E 'as struck it fer a moral. Ginger's found 'is game at last,
An' 'e's took to it like ducklin's take to drink;
An' 'is slouchin' an' 'is grouchin' an' 'is loafin' uv the past
'E's done wiv 'em, an' dumped 'em down the sink.
'E's a bright an' shinin' sample uv a the'ry that I 'old:
That ev'ry 'eart that ever pumped is good fer chunks o' gold.

Ev'ry feller is a gold mine if yeh take an' work 'im right:
It is shinin' on the surface now an' then;
An' there's some is easy sinkin', but there's some wants dynermite,
Fer they looks a 'opeless prospect - yet they're men.
An' Ginger - 'ard-shell Ginger's showin' signs that 'e will pay;
But it took a flamin' world-war fer to blarst 'is crust away.

But they took 'im an' they drilled 'im an' they shipped 'im overseas
Wiv a crowd uv blokes 'e never met before.
'E rowed wiv 'em, an' scrapped wiv 'em, an' done some tall C.B.'s,
An' 'e lobbed wiv 'em on Egyp's sandy shore.
Then Pride o' Race lay 'olt on 'im, an' Mick shoves out 'is chest
To find 'imself Australian an' blood brothers wiv the rest.

So I gits some reel good readin' in the letter wot 'e sent

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Straight Griffin

''Eroes? Orright. You 'ave it 'ow yeh like.
Throw up yer little 'at an' come the glad;
But not too much 'Three-'Earty-Cheers' fer Mike;
There's other things that 'e'll be wantin' bad.
The boys won't 'ave them kid-stakes on their mind
Wivout there's somethin' solider be'ind.'

Now that's the dinkum oil frum Ginger Mick,
In 'orspital, somew'ere be'ind the front;
Plugged in the neck, an' lately pretty sick,
But now right on the converlescent stunt.
'I'm on the mend,' 'e writes, 'an' nearly doo
To come the 'ero act agen - Scene two.'

I'd sent some papers, knowin' 'ow time drags
Wiv blokes in blankits, waitin' fer a cure.
'An' 'Struth!' Mick writes, 'the way they et them rags
Yeh'd think that they'd bin weaned on litrachure.
They wrestled thro' frum 'Births' to 'Lost and Found';
They even give the Leaders 'arf a round.'

Mick spent a bonzer day propped up in bed,
Soothin' 'is soul wiv ev'ry sportin' page;
But in the football noos the things 'e read
Near sent 'im orf 'is top wiv 'oly rage;
The way 'is team 'as mucked it earned 'is curse;
But 'e jist swallered it - becos uv nurse.

An' then this 'eadline 'it 'im wiv bokays;
'Australian Heroes!' is the song it makes.
Mick reads the boys them ringin' words o' praise;
But they jist grins a bit an' sez 'Kid stakes!'
Sez Mick to nurse, 'You tumble wot I am?
A bloomin' little 'ero. Pass the jam!'

Mick don't say much uv nurse; but 'tween the lines -
('Im bein' not too strong on gushin' speech)
I seem to see some tell-tale sort o' signs.
Sez 'e, 'Me nurse-girl is a bonzer peach,'
An' then 'e 'as a line: ''Er sad, sweet look.'
'Struth! Ginger must 'a' got it frum a book.

Say, I can see ole Ginger, plain as plain,
Purrin' to feel the touch u'v 'er cool 'and,
Grinnin' a bit to kid 'is wound don't pain,
An' yappin' tork she don't 'arf understand,
That makes 'er wonder if, back where she lives,
They're all reel men be'ind them ugly chivs.

But that's orright. Ole Ginger ain't no flirt.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Sexy Ginger Bread Man

On his body is a ginger bread thong
To soften you up he sings a sweet sugar song
If you hit on him he’ll play along

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

He’ll seduce you with candy wine
One a scale from 1-10 he is a 9
Girls look at him and say, “He’s so fine”

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

On his face are peanut butter eyes
He has powdered sugar on his manly thighs
He will reel you in with his seductive lies

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

On this neck is a chain of candy
Around the house he can be handy
If you add frosting he can be pretty randy

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

Out of the batch he is the pick
He has a giant ginger bread stick
It has rainbow sprinkles on it

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

You bite the chain and swallow the thong
Eat the stick which is very long
You gobble him up till he’s all gone

NO MORE sexy ginger bread man

poem by Paul Celano
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Private Life

This is my private life
I have no friends to fear
Ive got no problems no cross to bear
If you can find me
Come and get me out of here
Chorus
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life . . .
These are my private things
There they are against the wall
The dirty pictures, religious objects
These are my private things
Come and get them out of here
This is my private bed
This is where I lie at night
Staring at a light bulb hanging on the ceiling
Waiting for a dream to
Come and get me out of here
Bridge
Here in my humble room at night
I often wonder what goes on out there
What makes them runs o scared
I often stare at the people passing by
But they cant see me thru my window shades
Just like Im not even there
Chorus
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life
Theres something dangerous I like
This is my private life
I know my problems arent your fault
What I really want to know
Has it always been this way
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life
Come and get me out of here

song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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A Last Confession

Our Lombard country-girls along the coast
Wear daggers in their garters: for they know
That they might hate another girl to death
Or meet a German lover. Such a knife
I bought her, with a hilt of horn and pearl.
Father, you cannot know of all my thoughts
That day in going to meet her,—that last day
For the last time, she said;—of all the love
And all the hopeless hope that she might change
And go back with me. Ah! and everywhere,
At places we both knew along the road,
Some fresh shape of herself as once she was
Grew present at my side; until it seemed—
So close they gathered round me—they would all
Be with me when I reached the spot at last,
To plead my cause with her against herself
So changed. O Father, if you knew all this
You cannot know, then you would know too, Father,
And only then, if God can pardon me.
What can be told I'll tell, if you will hear.
I passed a village-fair upon my road,
And thought, being empty-handed, I would take
Some little present: such might prove, I said,
Either a pledge between us, or (God help me!)
A parting gift. And there it was I bought
The knife I spoke of, such as women wear.
That day, some three hours afterwards, I found
For certain, it must be a parting gift.
And, standing silent now at last, I looked
Into her scornful face; and heard the sea
Still trying hard to din into my ears
Some speech it knew which still might change her heart,
If only it could make me understand.
One moment thus. Another, and her face
Seemed further off than the last line of sea,
So that I thought, if now she were to speak
I could not hear her. Then again I knew
All, as we stood together on the sand
At Iglio, in the first thin shade o' the hills.
“Take it,” I said, and held it out to her,
While the hilt glanced within my trembling hold;
“Take it and keep it for my sake,” I said.
Her neck unbent not, neither did her eyes
Move, nor her foot left beating of the sand;
Only she put it by from her and laughed.
Father, you hear my speech and not her laugh;
But God heard that. Will God remember all?
It was another laugh than the sweet sound
Which rose from her sweet childish heart, that day
Eleven years before, when first I found her

[...] Read more

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Laugh

Love laughed at you and made you blue
Now heres what you should do
Well laugh, though your heart is breaking in two
Yeah laugh, dont let them know he hurt you
Well laugh and pretend true love will come again
Yeah laugh, laugh and laugh
Laugh, though the one you love is really gone
Yeah laugh, even though youll be alone
Yeah laugh and pretend true love will come again
Yeah laugh, laugh and laugh
Well let me hear you laugh now
Though its hard, so hard for you to do
Laugh with me, cos you see
Ive been there too
Well laugh and pretend true love will come again
Yeah laugh and believe its not the end
Yeah laugh like a clown
Dont let your heart break down
Yeah laugh, laugh and laugh
Love laughed, its true
But look at you
Now youre laughing too

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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