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There are definitely people who are stuck in the '60s and there are definitely people who think I am and it's just not true. I was performing for a long time before the '60s and I'll be doing exciting interesting things for along time to come.

quote by Petula Clark
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stuck With You

Weve had some fun, and yes weve had our ups and downs
Been down that rocky road, but here we are, still around
We thought about someone else, but neither one took the bait
We thought about breaking up, but now we know its much too late
We are bound by all the rest
Like the same phone number
All the same friends
And the same address
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
Weve had our doubts, we never took them seriously
And weve had our ins and outs, but thats the way its supposed to be
We thought about giving up, but we could never stay away
Thought about breaking up, but now we know its much too late
And its no great mystery
If we change our minds
Eventually, its back to you and me
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
We are bound by all the rest
Like the same phone number
All the same friends
And the same address
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
(yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
Im happy to be stuck with you
Happy to be stuck with you.

song performed by Huey Lewis And The News
Added by Lucian Velea
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Just Stuck In A Warp, Zone

Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.

Just stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To...
Never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.

Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
So far out they're looking down at stars.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Not one of them has heard of Jupiter OR Mars.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Sniffin', snortin', totin', weezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Hackin', coughin', chokin', sneezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.

Sniffin', snortin', totin', weezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Hackin', coughin', chokin', sneezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To...
Never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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How Can You Drive With A Stuck Clutch?

Why do you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or are you proving you can drive and do it without limits.
Why you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

Why do you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or are you proving you can drive and do it without limits.
Why you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
I've never seen it done.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
You're the only one.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
I've never seen it done.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
You're the only one.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

Why do you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or are you proving you can drive and do it without limits.
Why you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
You're the only one.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

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

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Stuck In A Closet With Vanna White

Doctor, every night I have the strangest dreams
Doctor, listen to me, tell me what this means
First Im goin shoppin in my underwear
Then all of sudden Im floating in mid air
My lips fall off and everybody starts to stare
Donuts and hot dogs are flying everywhere
Now doctor, wait a minute, you aint heard nothin yet
Next comes the part that I wont ever forget
Now Im bein followed by these russian spies
They give me some velcro, and an order of fries
Suddenly Im bowling on the starship enterprise
I fall down a hole and thats when I realize
I am stuck in a closet with vanna white
Im stuck in a closet with vanna white
Night after night after night after night
All right!
Doctor, wont you tell me, am I going insane
Was it something I ate or something wrong with my brain
See, Im naked in church when I meet a dinosaur
Try to run, but my feet have been nailed to the floor
Then a midget pushes me through a revolving door
And Im back in the very same place I was before
Now Im stuck in a closet with vanna white
Im stuck in a closet with vanna white
Night after night after night after night
And I cant bust out and I cant break free
And its gettin just a little too stuffy here for me
And I cant go home and I cant get loose
And I try to escape but its just no use
And I cant ever leave and I cant ever win
And were runnin outta air and the walls are closin in
And I cant go back and I cant get through
But vanna since youre here, why dont you let me buy a vowel from you
Come on vanna, come on!
Ow, buhhh
Doctor, all those crazy dreams have started again
Thats right, I even wake up screaming now and then
See, Im coming home from work but I forgot my address
Im half an hour late for my algebra test
Then some slimy alien jumps out of my chest
And Im falling and falling and I guess you know the rest
I am stuck in a closet with vanna white
Im stuck in a closet with vanna white
Night after night after night after night
I am stuck in a closet with vanna white
Stuck in a closet with vanna white
N-n-n-night after night after night night night
Then Im stuck in a closet with vanna white (ya-ya ya-ya, ya-ya, ya, ya-ya)
Im stuck in a closet with vanna white
Night after night after night after night

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stuck In The Middle And Feeling Sad

What is it that you need,
To interrupt your love for suffering?

Do you need a lot of...
Discipline.
Would you like a little...
Motivation?

Stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
Stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline

Stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
Stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

What is it that you need,
To interrupt your love for suffering?

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

Do you need a lot of...
Discipline.
Would you like a little...
Motivation?

What is it that you need,
To interrupt your love for suffering?

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.
You lack a discipline.
You lack a discipline.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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What is a Friend?

True friends will never let each other down
True friends will tell each other when they are right or wrong
True friends listen to their problems without casting judgment
True friends are never afraid to tell you like it is

A true friend knows when to say no
A true friend will never flop you
A true friend will be supportive of all you do
A true friend will be there to dry your weeping eyes

A true friend will lend a shoulder for you to cry on
A true friend cares how you are doing
A true friend cares about your day-to-day life
A true friend always calls and checks up on you

A true friend gives of himself/herself without asking for anything in return
A true friend would not lend you money but give you whatever they can
A true friend may argue, fuss, and fight with you but will always be there for you
A true friend forgives you for your shortcomings

A true friend will come to your aid no matter what time of day it is
A true friend doesn’t wait to hear from you to make the first call
A true friend just calls to chitchat with you
A true friend is like a Godsend in times of perils

A true friend is always welcoming
A true would give you the coat off their backs
A true friend knows enough is enough
A true friend will be by your side when you need them the most

A true friend will run an intercept or blockage for you
True friends will CYA for each other
True friends knows that this world wasn’t promised to us
True friends make the best of a bad situation

True friends keeps each others secretes
True friends keeps no secretes from one another
True friends share each other’s lives
A true friend is forever

Are you a true friend?
Ask yourself that question
Can you be a true friend?
Do you deserve a good friend?

There are no goodbyes in life, just hellos

Hello friend

poem by Wilfred Mellers
Added by Poetry Lover
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Dog Log

Walkin cross a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
(Just like you Marley!)
Walkin cross a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
I've been walkin cross a log
I've been walkin with a dog dog dog
(This ones for you Marley!)
Walkin cross a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
(Marley this ones for you, were checking this one for you Marley!)I've been walkin cross the log
I've been wonderin where my dog done gone
(Hey Marley, this ones for you man, This ones for you Marley, were singingthis one for you!)
Stepped upon a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
(Marley if you like this one roll over on your back!)
Stepped upon a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
Stepped upon a log, walkin through the fog fog fog
(Singing about you Marley, were singing for you!)
Stepped upon a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
(Were through with discussion, were singing this one for you Marley)Dog log is hereI knew if she was near, she was still sneezin
(No were talking about here dog Marley)
Its Holdsworth!
Holdsworth!
Holdsworth!
Holdsworth!
Walkin cross a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
(Time for discussion, right here before the next lyric, discussion!)
I've been walkin with a dog, dog, dog.
(I saw Holdsworth sittin at the table)
Walkin cross a long, long, long, long, long, long, log
(Speakin to the Lord!)
I've been walkin cross the log
(I ran into Holdsworth!)
Walkin cross the log
I've been wonderin where Holdsworth done gone
Where's my dog gone?
Where's my dog gone?
Where's my dog gone?
Gone Gone
Gone Gone
Gone Gone
Gone Gone
Gone Gone
Gone Gone

song performed by Phish
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Love Grows Deeper

My love grows deeper every day and takes a little piece of me
My love grows deeper every day and takes a little piece of me
My love grows deeper every day, deep into the sea
But takes a little piece of me, a little piece of me
Oh it's so beautiful out and I can't see why we're not allowed to be
Up in the sky with the birds counting the flowers
Oh my powers have failed me again when I can't see beginning to end
And I try to test it again through the hours
I get so stuck on leaving but I guess I think I'll stay
I'll be hanging around here anyway
I get so stuck on leaving, hell I think I'll go
Cuz they don't want me around here, no, no
My love grows deeper every day and takes a little piece of me
My love grows deeper every day and takes a little piece of me
My love grows deeper every day, deep into the sea
But takes a little piece of me, a little piece of me
Oh why can't I be green as the grass beneath my feet
As fresh as the dew hits the ground in the morning
And not yellow like bumble bees, please take me off my knees
Cuz I don't wanna be red forever
I get so stuck on leaving but I guess I think I'll stay
I'll be hanging around here anyway
I get so stuck on leaving so hell I think I'll go
Cuz they don't want me around here, no no
Traveling far, all up in the blue, traveling far,
could not be born because of you
Traveling far, up in the blue, could not be born because of you,
because of you you you you you you you
I get so stuck on leaving, I guess I think I'll stay
I'll be hanging around here anyway
I get so stuck on leaving, hell I think I'll go
You don't want me around here no more
I get so stuck on leaving, I get so stuck on leaving
I get so stuck on leaving, stuck on leaving
Stuck on leaving, I gotta go
You cut my wings long time ago
You cut my wings long time ago
My love grows deeper every day and takes a little piece of me
My love grows deeper every day and takes a little piece of me
My love grows deeper every day, deep into the sea
But takes a little piece of me, a little piece of me

song performed by Nelly Furtado
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,
The one the other to renounce.
They both approach the Lady's Bower;
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a Masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made;
From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him from himself, by Night.

'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r
T' enforce a desperate amour,
As he that has two strings t' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute,
Disdains to render in his suit,
Has all his flames and raptures double,
And hangs or drowns with half the trouble,
While those who sillily pursue,
The simple, downright way, and true,
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
And more untoward to be won
Than by CALIGULA the Moon,
Cry out upon the stars, for doing
Ill offices to cross their wooing;
When only by themselves they're hindred,
For trusting those they made her kindred;
And still, the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder.
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted,
In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,
Through th' windows of a dazzling room?
But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame.
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use;
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways,
As follows in due time and place

No sooner was the bloody fight,
Between the Wizard, and the Knight,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
Added by Poetry Lover
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Cat People

See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name
Well, you been so long
And i've been putting out fire
With gasoline
See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds
It's been so long
Still this pulsing night
A plague i call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
But it wouldn't believe what i've been thru
You've been so long
Well it's been so long
And i've been putting out the fire with gasoline
Putting out the fire
With gasoline
See these tears so blue
An ageless heart that can never mend
Tears can never dry
A judgement made can never bend
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Just be still with me
You wouldn't believe what i've been thru
Well you've been so long
It's been so long
And i've been putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire
We've been putting out fire
Well it's been so long so long so long
Yes it's been so long so long so long
I've been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
And putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Putting out fire

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song performed by David Bowie
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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Come A Long Way

Swing low, could be the last call for two of us
I said swing high, reach out and touch the sky
But dont cry yet, its not time yet
See this race is wrong
Come see, this race is right
See millions of years pass with no end in sight
Sleep tight, you couldnt count the cost through the night
cause its not right, it never was right
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Up on may day, and there is a carnival on my street tonight
I hear them dancing, I hear them dancing
But on a clear day
If this thing dont move here
Then this thing just dont have no heartbeat
Get on the street, I say
Sweet hours to live, I got no time to kill
I said hold back those arms raised hold back the bill
Sleep tight, you couldnt count the cost through the night
cause its not right, it never was right
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Swing low, could be the last call for two of us
I said swing high, reach out and touch the sky
But dont cry yet, its not time yet
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Words and music : simple minds (c) emi music (publ) ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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Satan Absolved

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

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

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

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

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Wanna Be Startin Somethin

Chorus
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
1st verse
I took my baby to the doctor
With a fever, but nothing he found
By the time this hit the street
They said she had a breakdown
Someones always tryin to start my baby cryin
Talkin, squealin, lyin
Sayin you just wanna be startin somethin
Chorus
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
2nd verse
You love to pretend that youre good
When youre always up to no good
You really cant make him hate her
So your tongue became a razor
Someones always tryin to keep my baby cryin
Treacherous, cunnin, declinin
You got my baby cryin
Chorus
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)

[...] Read more

song performed by Michael Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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