I have never been bribed as a Prime Minister.
quote by Kamisese Mara
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Recollection of the Arabian Nights
WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
In the silken sail of infancy,
The tide of time flow'd back with me,
The forward-flowing tide of time;
And many a sheeny summer-morn,
Adown the Tigris I was borne,
By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold,
High-walled gardens green and old;
True Mussulman was I and sworn,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Anight my shallop, rustling thro'
The low and bloomed foliage, drove
The fragrant, glistening deeps, and clove
The citron-shadows in the blue:
By garden porches on the brim,
The costly doors flung open wide,
Gold glittering thro' lamplight dim,
And broider'd sofas on each side:
In sooth it was a goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Often where clear-stemm'd platans guard
The outlet, did I turn away
The boat-head down a broad canal
From the main river sluiced, where all
The sloping of the moon-lit sward
Was damask-work, and deep inlay
Of braided blooms unmown, which crept
Adown to where the water slept.
A goodly place, a goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.
A motion from the river won
Ridged the smooth level, bearing on
My shallop thro' the star-strown calm,
Until another night in night
I enter'd, from the clearer light,
Imbower'd vaults of pillar'd palm,
Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb
Heavenward, were stay'd beneath the dome
Of hollow boughs.--A goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Still onward; and the clear canal
Is rounded to as clear a lake.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Lilis Address
Puff we now ourselves with pride
Swelling outward far and wide
For God herself is on our side
With heavens plan for the motherland
All right, all right ladies,
Settle down now, settle down
Now, the usual formalities
Everyone, hold all your questions please
Youll all have your opportunities to
Shoot the breeze or cut the cheese
But upon this juncture I must state
How immensely you appreciate
The illusion of grandeur I create
When every trait I overrate
And every word gesticulate
In praise of the motherland
Puff we now ourselves with pride
Swelling outward far and wide
For God herself is on our side
With heavens plan for the motherland
Quiet please, quiet, Im still speaking
Irregardless of to what we pledge
The electorate gives me the edge
And the boost to my ego that cant be measured
Ruling you is such a pleasure
Speaking of good taste in dames
I submit to you my list of names
Maybe some of them come up short on brains
But good at diplomatic games
And sycophantic without shame
I give you the cabinet
The privilege is strictly ours
To have you watch while we devour
The crumbs of presidential power
That we can grub from lilly
Shes got the wardrobe we adore
Her teeth are perfect, what is more
She knows what having friends is for
Were silly over lilly,
Silly over lilly
til were ill, well sing it shrilly
Lilly is the nations pride
And we love her like a mother
You like me, you like me
You dont know what this means to me
To be the one you run to see when
You need a mother
All right, I feel good
Im a [partridge? ]
Im ready to take you all on
[...] Read more
song performed by Utopia
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Prime Time
Cavalier roses, but the thorns got in my soul
Chocolate box intention, but a bitter taste left me cold
Take a little something, a present clouds the past
Traded our emotions, it couldnt last, wouldnt last at all
And though you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Fine time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
Bitter suite decision, sofa so good the day we met
Eye for eye collision, pillow talking, only pillow talking
Matinee romancing, the bait is set, the net is cast
Cheated our emotions, it couldnt last
Wouldnt last at all
Although you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
And words are words thats all
Im going to stand or fall
Prime time for hook and line
Dont you swim away...
Prime time for the hook and line
Prime time for the hook and line
For the hook, the hook and line
Although you didnt say, yeah
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down
Line by line adventure
A prime time for the hook and line
Castaway in pleasure
A prime time
Curtain razor tension
A prime time for the hook and line
Wasted our emotions
A prime time
song performed by Haircut 100
Added by Lucian Velea
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Better Off Dead
(rod stewart / chen, savigar, cregan, grainger, appice)
Call the girls and dress up fine
Tonight I felt like suicide
Roll them dice and pour the wine
Shuffle them cards and deal them fine
Got nobody to kiss tonight
Nothing to lose but my appetite
Wanna be silly and sing and shout
Gotta get legless and fall about
Turn the music up nice and loud
Cheer me up dont bring me down
Gonna lose my job next week
Getting replaced by a silicone chip
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
Dont like the scenery dont like the set
Tear it all down and start again
Man keeps talking on the radio
Telling me what I dont wanna know
Radiation wars and layatril
If tax dont get ya then cancer will
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
Better off dead, better off dead
Better off dead, better off dead
song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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Minister Of Rock 'n' Roll
I'm the minister of Rock N Roll
I can heal you
I can save your soul
You better stop foolin' around
I can touch you
I can make you whole
I can bless it so it doesn't get old
Come on and turn it up loud
You can call me
You know I'll be right there
You can call me
And I'll be standing there
I'm the minister of Rock N Roll
I'll make you freak and
Make you lose control
I'm a minister of Rock N Roll
Highway to Heaven and your pot of gold
Come on and join the crowd
I'm a fire when you're feeling cold
I'll make you freak
And make you lose control
What are you waiting for now?
You can call me
You know I'll be right there
You can call me
And I'll be standing there
I'm the Minister of Rock N Roll
I'll make you freak
And make you lose control
I'm the Minister of Rock N Roll
I'll make you freak
And make you lose control
I'm the Minister of Rock N Roll
song performed by Lenny Kravitz
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Movement Vi - Work
(mary dees office)
Womens chorus (office staff)
Working women at the top,
Will it ever stop?
Papers piling up and up.
Days go by like monday, tuesday:
Work until we drop!
All the time looking great,
Running late,
In a state, losing weight,
Running late again
And again.
Mary dee
Let me have the letter that you typed up yesterday.
Did mr. fisher send the fax to la?
Make sure the flowers dont arrive too late
And cancel my appointment at the squash club.
Womens chorus
What club?
Mary dee
Squash club.
Womens chorus
Working women on the go,
Will they ever know
What it takes to run the show?
Days go by like lightning,
Will it ever slow?
Half the time feeling dead,
Over-fed,
Aching head,
Miss my bed.
Over-fed again and again.
Mary dee
Did they ever pick up the accountants resume?
Make sure the car arrives in time for the plane.
Get me the details of the takeover bid
And write another letter to the minister.
Womens chorus
Minister?
Mary dee
The minister of love.
Womens chorus
Love.
(la)
Mary dee
Wheres the time for standing still?
Womens chorus
Holding hands and walking free.
Mary dee
Wheres the time for you...
[...] Read more
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere
The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind breathes from a chillier clime;—
That forth I fared, on one of those still eves,
Touch'd with the dewy sadness of the time,
To think how the bright months had spent their prime,
II
So that, wherever I address'd my way,
I seem'd to track the melancholy feet
Of him that is the Father of Decay,
And spoils at once the sour weed and the sweet;—
Wherefore regretfully I made retreat
To some unwasted regions of my brain,
Charm'd with the light of summer and the heat,
And bade that bounteous season bloom again,
And sprout fresh flowers in mine own domain.
III
It was a shady and sequester'd scene,
Like those famed gardens of Boccaccio,
Planted with his own laurels evergreen,
And roses that for endless summer blow;
And there were fountain springs to overflow
Their marble basins,—and cool green arcades
Of tall o'erarching sycamores, to throw
Athwart the dappled path their dancing shades,—
With timid coneys cropping the green blades.
IV
And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish,
Argent and gold; and some of Tyrian skin,
Some crimson-barr'd;—and ever at a wish
They rose obsequious till the wave grew thin
As glass upon their backs, and then dived in,
Quenching their ardent scales in watery gloom;
Whilst others with fresh hues row'd forth to win
My changeable regard,—for so we doom
Things born of thought to vanish or to bloom.
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Hood
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Portugal Manoel Da Assumpcam Missionary.
'Portugal Manoel Da Assumpcam
Amar Sonar Moyna Pakki Amigo,
I never seen you in my live ever before
Which Country are you from?
My dear amigo Manoel Da Assumpcam.
Your colour of heritage in unknown Land l fear to bear your name in word.
I can't bear to missed you my amigo, Oh yes it can't be forgot either
You have contributed your nameless name in the nation without name
To influence other and to form the crowd in unknown Land,
Where are you from Sir?
And to shape not my nationalities in Language in Culture but yours!
The present Language in Bangla o' my dear amigo never was counted by.
You may be nothing To Government of Portugal than but today.
Priceless name in the heart of people's in the unknown Land.
I have nothing to say in Language Portuguese other than to say thank you.
For teaching and advocating me in Language in Bangla
That nation today celebrates every year.
With their tears on their eyes and face.
Bear to say words other than few minute in silent,
As orphanage children's looking at each other face.
Remembering those who gave their words in Bangla and live for.
And today I believe in visual hallucination it's not too late
to say how much I love you in Language in Bangla ‘Nil Dariar Prem'
The Birth of new Generation in Culture in Bangla.
Almost was given birth after more than three century in Bangla
'Inna-Lilla-He-O-Inna-He-La-He-Ra-Je-Ow n'
When will I met you?
Day of Kiamot is to far from Bay of Bengal to Portugal.
The mother of all living things on Earth,
Singing in the name of Almighty Lord ‘Allah' too
In the soil of unknown Land in British India my not his or her love.
How lucky you was never assassinated by knowing you was pigeons,
As Bongo Bandhu,
First Prime Ministers of Bangladesh.
I miss you ‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
Your name prescribed in Language Bangla by name
'Shaheed Minar'
Capital City o Bangladesh.
By name once was known Dac-ca' now became ‘DHA-KA'
Your name in my Language Mother tongues days and nights,
‘Joy Bangla'
To Miss you my dear amigo you left us under your own broken umbrella.
[...] Read more
poem by Abdul Haye Amin
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Epistle to an Orphan after William Mackworth Praed A Letter of Advice
They tell me you're promised a mother,
to cuddle, to cosset, to care.
Take care for she may try to smother,
to cover her inner despair.
The experts agree that another
could just as well clinch the affair, -
and beware that you never discover
the father who's no longer there.
(Parody William Mackworth PRAED - A Letter 31 October 1990)
A Letter to PH from a Disappointed Writer
Dear PH, I leave you this letter
after writing from ten until nine
for a site I'd delight to know better,
for a smile that my heart can't decline.
Yet one finds after wearily pacing,
for replies in the cold, for some sign,
that that heart which with hope had been racing
to darkest despair must incline.
Dear PH from twelve to eleven
each night I would knock at your door
in hope that an angel from heaven
could show me the light, - but no more
will I screed in my need if no answer
effective can echo joy's store -
I can't act as a puppet-stringed dancer,
not even for one I adore!
Dear PH the time have I waited
day in and day out by grief torn,
all write up down written, ill-fated
as my consonants vowed my vowels scorn.
The wonder my dunderhead brought you
tonight may steal thunder at morn,
but the blossoms whose beauty besought you
fade as fast as last season's drenched corn.
As on Thursday applauseless, defeated,
so on Friday all clauseless I'm spurned,
is the cycle of love thus completed,
is this all the thanks that I've earned?
It is hard for a fool to be taken -
its a sign that one's soft in the head, -
but the reason that slept must awaken,
and the spirit, restored, won't be lead!
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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And let the oil flow cheaply!
Heads of state or government of 25 nations met in Belgrade, capital of Yugoslavia at the first Summit of Non-Aligned Nations on 1st September 1961. Sri Lanka was a founder of the Non-Aligned Movement which consisted mainly of developing countries that preferred to stay away from any power blocks. These nations were not aligned to any superpower – either USA (America) or USSR (Russia) .Sri Lanka’s newly elected Prime Minister, Sirimavo Bandaranaike attended the inaugural Summit, stepping on to the world stage as the world’s first woman Prime Minister. She attended the second Summit held in Cairo in 1964 and in 1976 hosted the fifth Summit in Colombo. Thereafter Sri Lanka occupied the chair for three years.The origin of the movement dates back to 1954, when the Prime Minister of India, Shri Jawaharlal Nehru had coined the term “non-alignment” during his speech at the Asian Prime Ministers Conference in Colombo. In this speech, Nehru described the five pillars to be used as a guide for Sino-Indian relations. Called ‘Panchaseela’ (five restraints) , these principles would later serve as the basis of the Non-Aligned Movement.The five principles were: Mutual respect for each other’s territorial integrity and sovereigntyMutual non-aggression
Mutual non-interference in domestic affairsEquality and mutual benefit
Peaceful co-existence
I hear a sad Bedouin song of an aging Dictator
Who sung with his deep voice for a long period!
Yes, let others to sing and get rid of the power.
Bring the lute and leave the wealth.
Like your younger days remember
You touched the Sri Lankan soil once
As Omar Mukthar the Hero!
At the 5th Non-Alignment Summit, Colombo, Sri Lanka in 1976.
We're old now and leave aside the burden
Watch how they sing with the different pitch?
Companion Camel too old now
And no more desert crossing
Stop at an Oasis!
Take the lute out and sing the oldest song;
'Where we've come from
And where do we go? '
And let the oil flow cheaply!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A sixty three years old democracy
We are a democracy completed years sixty three
We are, but, yet to be freed
From the clutches of caste and creed
And, the worst of all, that of greed
While the first two divide us
The third one destroys us
Most of the decision makers
And policy makers
Are driven by these three principles
And we are still limping
Towards that horizon and daylight
Having been freed in the middle of the night
Rare it is to come across
Personalities now a days
Despite our having
More than a thousand million people
Most of our people
In poverty
And in the darkness of ignorance
Find it difficult to
Understand the qualities
Of the people, whom they elect
To rule us
Elected ones, though not in poverty,
Are as ignorant as the people
Who voted them to power
How many more independence days
Are we going to cross
In fact, there is no celebration
For most of our people
Know not what independence really means
For them it means,
Simply means, they have the right
To select wrong people
We have not forgotten our long history
We know
King’s son becomes the king
So we maintain that
Prime Minister’s son or daughter
Should become prime minister
Chief Minister’s son or daughter
Should become chief minister
We love our families
We take good care of sons, daughters,
[...] Read more
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Star, still a kid
Star, still a kid
A national function
National Child Achievers’ Award
For demonstrated excellence
In far-reaching talents
In art, science, mathematics
And for skillful display
Of courage and valour
President, Prime Minister and
A host of great dignitaries gracing the function
Minister for Human Resources Development
Herself reading out the citation
And presenting the awardees
The medallion and the certification
A kid of nine years
Chosen for the award
For the ability to solve
In a very short interval
Problems in mathematics
Requiring complicated calculations
And for the skill in reciting
From memory voluminous
Ancient scriptures
The child came on to the stage
The Minister read the citation
Decorated the kid with medallion
The President and the Prime Minister
Walked up to the kid
And greeted her
When asked how she feels about this
National Award
The Awardee started telling
In her own style and in a broken shrill voice
Today is Thursday
I will reach home by Saturday
I am in fact on the wait for
Monday to come
I will attend school that day
To show this medallion and certificate
In the school assembly
And on top of it
My class teacher will put a star
Against that day in my diary
For having won this award
Which is the greatest exciting thing for me
[...] Read more
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Are We Falling Short?
A provincial premier should be appointed prime minister each year,
Because we don't vote for our prime minister by name right here,
We vote for someone in his party and sometimes we're not sure,
Because the party system can sometimes be very obscure.
Or in order to elect a prime minister, we should see his name,
On a special ballot because this is a serious game,
And the religion-like party system should be rearranged,
For individuals - not parties - and not considered strange.
I realize of course that this idea will be shot down,
Appointed high aristocrats want to keep their dressing gowns,
Proportional representation and binding referendums please,
Because the way things are now; it's the parties they appease.
They say that the Senate is a place of sober second thought,
Where unknown establishment appointees are never distraught,
Did I mention we need an elected Senate and High Court?
Because under our present system we seem to fall short.
poem by James Bredin
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Prime Of Our Love
I have rocked you to sleep like a baby
Stood beneath you and lifted you up
I have given you comfort and safety
Now youve gone in the prime of our love
I have cradled your head on my pillow
Quenched your thirst from my sweet loving cup
I have bowed to your needs like a willow
Now youve gone in the prime of our love
Oh, the days are slow in their passing
And the nights are so dreadfully dull
And the question my heart keeps on asking
Whyd you leave in the prime of our love?
I have cradled your head on my pillow
Quenched your thirst from my sweet loving cup
I have bowed to your needs like a willow
Now youve gone in the prime of our love
In the prime of our love youve forsaken
Our bright hopes and just left them to fade
And the heart that was yours for the breaking
Lies in pieces to wither away
I have cradled your head on my pillow
Quenched your thirst from my sweet loving cup
I have bowed to your needs like a willow
Now youve gone in the prime of our love
In the prime of our love youve forsaken
Our bright hopes and just left them to fade
And the heart that was yours for the breaking
Lies in pieces to wither away
Lies in pieces as cold as the clay
song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Johanna Brandt
To me Johanna Brandt is a prime example
of such a person, who were clinging
to her integrity and bravely lived
to what she thought was right.
She was the daughter
of the well known reformed minister
Nicolaas Jacobus van Warmelo
who played a leading role
during the first Anglo-Boer war
that came to an end
with the Boer victory at Majuba hill.
Johanna had a beautiful
soprano voice and got music instruction
form a Mrs Uggla,
(a Swedish music teacher) ,
and used to sing the solo parts
at choir performances.
While living on a prime estate called
Harmonie in Pretoria, the family
were friends with President Paul Kruger,
general Piet Joubert and his wife
and dr. W.J. Leyds (the secretary of state) .
On Harmonie there was an abundance
of willow trees where it was situated
near to the Apies River
and Zuid-Afrikaansce republic
government buildings.
During the Jameson raid,
Johanna was visiting her uncle
in Florida (near to Johannesburg)
and at the time when this trouble
was at its worst
she by herself rode by horse
all the way back
to her home in Pretoria.
While studying music in Germany in 1897
Johanna fell in love
with the reformed minister Louis Ernest Brandt
whom she met in the Netherlands
who was a rowing champion of Holland
and a well build good looking man,
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Woman
My Woman “A wild ride of the mind Soliloquy”
To see you live in stereo would be like dieing and going to heaven
Only you can make me happy
I am happier now than I ever was
I have seen the light and it shines on me now so I don't have to be alone
I am happy that I have met you, and you are a very beautiful young woman
You must have guys knocking down your door all the time
A woman like you should never be alone
Man was made for woman and so it should be
We are one in the circle of life
To be without you is a waste of time and ones life
I had a vision of an angel on the beach and that vision was you my dear
I am grammatically challenged when it comes to finding words that suite you best
My clumsy fingers are not bad because they can compose things that can move people sometimes but not like you have
They (my hands) can hold you, touch you, and feel things like I have never before
My hands are drummer’s hands in your band of merry minstrels
They are gentle to hold and keep you safe in your darkness hours
In your hands are the tools that make or brake down the world has we know it
My hands are yours to have and to hold
They are meant to hold you in my arms
They are meager extensions of my soul
You make my heart sing a melody not yet heard by mankind
Melodies divine that make the world sing
I would write Meaningful words that captures the spirit of true happiness
With you all things are right
You make the birds sing and the wind blow
You make the sun rise in the morning and when the sun goes down, the morning dew cries only for you
I can only envision your smile that shines so brightly that it blocks out the sun
No one can compete with that
The heavens kneel at your feet
You are queen amongst the heavens
The stars worship you and the moon is your night light
Queen you are and goddess to all men
A simple kiss from you would set my soul free to fly amongst the stars and worship you in a castle on high
You see how easy it would be to write words of feeling to someone as special as you are to the world
Thank God you are a live. He has truly blessed us with your presents
We could ask for no more. When he made you he had me on his mind.
Dream dreams of contentment where to be held by you I would die in your arms.
I could so easily slip away to paradise surrounded by you love
I see your true greatness and blessings emanating from within you my queen.
You could make a blind man see and a deft man hear again
You make this old man wish for younger days
They say that beauty is only skin deep but your beauty flows rights thru you and I can only wish that fragment rubs off on me.
You just being you is the greatest prize of all and any man is extremely lucky could dream of winning
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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The Prime of Life
OH, the strength of the toil of those twenty years, with father, and master, and men!
And the clearer brain of the business man, who has held his own for ten:
Oh, the glorious freedom from business fears, and the rest from domestic strife!
The past is dead, and the future assured, and I’m in the prime of life!
She bore me old, and they kept me old, and they worked me early and late;
I carried the loads of my selfish tribe, from seven to thirty eight:
I slaved with dad, in the dust and heat, that my brothers might enjoy—
But I rest to-day in the prime of life, and I’ll live and die a boy!
When the last crop failed, and the stock were gone, did the old man’s head go down?
No! he started business, on what was left, in the produce line in town.
They sent my brothers to boarding schools, when our way to the front we’d won—
They’d borrow, and borrow, but never had aught but contempt for the eldest son.
My brothers they went to the world away, and they left the home in strife.
They sowed wild oats in the pride of youth, and they pawned the prime of life.
They sowed too fast, and they sowed too far; and they came back one by one—
You couldn’t tell which is the eldest son and which is the youngest son.
Oh, I longed for a love that I could not claim, and a breath of the youth denied—
But I stuck to the store when the old man went, and the mater until she died:
With Job’s own sister and Satan’s aunt—good Lord! and the fiend’s own wife—
But I’m free of them now, it is no matter how, and I’m in the prime of life.
My brothers have turned respectable, and are steady as men can be:
The youngest and worst is a leading light—and he aims at reforming me!
But I lend and help, and I’ll fix them up, for I can’t but see with a sigh,
That the youngest, who left us a handsome boy, is an older man than I.
But it’s “Lord make us thankful” three times a day, before they eat their fill—
They can thank the Lord if they like, I say, but I reckon I pay the bill.
They feel independent, I’m glad to know, for if all I hear is true,
My brothers agree that I do no more than I have a right to do.
They’ll work in the store while I see the world, and I’ll let them share the till—
But I sail to-day, for a year away, to go wherever I will:
I sail with the woman who waited for me—old sweetheart; and brand new wife—
She is handsome and true, and she’s thirty-two—and I’m in the prime of life.
For Capetown, and London, and Norraway, for Germany, Holland, and France,
For Switzerland, Italy—anywhere—for Greece, and for Egypt a glance,
For India, China, and “strange Japan”, for the East with mystery rife—
I have made enough, and I have my love—and I’m in the prime of life!
poem by Henry Lawson
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0348 Me, Royalty and Fame
I didn't wave anything at the Queen
when I saw her leaving an official reception
sitting bolt upright in the car,
still, pale, exhausted,
on her way to the next engagement
of the five or so that day.
I didn't say much to the Queen Mum
when presented to her -
some people chat with royalty when introduced
like old friends; others, even the most anti-monarchical
turn to idiot jelly. But
she sure was good in dealing with it.
A pro to her fingertips.
I didn't say anything to Prince Charles
when he opened an exhibition
that he and I had an interest in;
but I'm proud to say we pushed
the greatest man in the room
into the receiving line
which otherwise he would not have sought.
I didn't say anything to Princess Diana
when at a reception I saw she'd spotted
the big red badge I'd been given and wore proudly -
'One of the nice things about New York';
I felt a fraud and slunk away.
I didn't say anything to the Prime Minister
when he invited me for tea -
the invitation got mislaid.
I didn't say anything to John and Yoko
when I met them at her first art exhibition -
since just looking is what art is for.
I didn't say anything to the Rolling Stones
when there they were sitting in a line
in the sunlight on the wall outside the National Gallery
before they were screaming-famous.
I didn't say much to Andy Warhol
since my question seemed to knock him backwards -
he leaned back, shrugged and said weakly
'It seemed a good idea at the time...'
then his minders hustled him on through the Andy Andy.
I didn't say much to Gloria Swanson
when some upmarket con unexpectedly
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
Added by Poetry Lover
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Do The Sinister
Come on into my mind, into my heart,
into my thoughts and into my soul
Come on into your mind, into your heart,
into your thoughts and into your soul-do the sinister
Chorus 1:
Come on come one come on do the sinister come on
come on come on hey hey hey
Chorus 2:
The minister is getting sinister the minister of the sinister-
you're messing with
The minister of the sinister the minister is getting sinister
Why you always bugging-what you want with me
Why you always tripping-just you let me be
Ain't no point in knocking-ain't nobody home
Ain't no point in talking-just leave me alone!
Chorus 1 & 2
Into the mind, into the heart, into the thought, into the soul
Out of the mind, out of the heart, out of the thought, and out of the soul
Why you always bugging-what you want with my
Why you always tripping-just you let me be
Ain't no point in knocking-ain't nobody home
Ain't no point in talking-just leave me alone!
Sin sin ha! ha! come on sin sin do the sinister
Sinister surf mind raid
Cyco surf min raid
What I want I do it
What I need I take it
If I want I'll do you, you been warned
What you want won't happen
What you know don't matter
What you feel I give it right here and right now
Right here and right now
Right here and right now
Right here and right now
Do the sinister
song performed by Infectious Grooves
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Age
Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.
Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.
Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Austin
Added by Poetry Lover
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