About 75 percent of the crude oil marketed here is sold off the books, and they are doing trades that would be illegal if it was a regulated market, and of course they do not want to regulate it.
quote by Peter DeFazio
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Regulate Your Flowing
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a -doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.
Real neat.
And not a picky eater.
Toasted whole wheat,
With jam-a or rye-i.
Pickled beets,
Mixed with chili and green peppers.
Sweetens a deliciousness,
You've gotta once try!
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop- a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a- doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.
Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
And go,
Regular.
Real neat.
And not a picky eater.
Toasted whole wheat,
With jam-a or rye-i.
Pickled beets,
Mixed with chili and green peppers.
Sweetens a deliciousness,
You've gotta once try!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Illegal Alien
Got out of bed, wasnt feeling too good
With my wallet and my passport, a new pair of shoes
The sun is shining so I head for the park,
With a bottle of tequila, and a new pack of cigarettes
I got a cousin and she got a friend,
Who thought that her aunt knew a man who could help
At his apartment I knocked on the door,
He wouldnt come out until he got paid.
Now dont tell anybody what I wanna do
If they find out you know that theyll never let me through, cos
Its no fun being an illegal alien, no
Its no fun being an illegal alien
Down at the office had to fill out the forms
A pink one, a red one, the colours you choose,
Up to the counter to see what they think
They said it doesnt count man, it aint written in ink.
I dont trust anybody, least not around here, cos
Its no fun being an illegal alien, I tell ya
Its no fun being an illegal alien, no no no no no
Its no fun being an illegal alien, I mean it when I tell ya that
Its no fun being an illegal alien,
An illegal alien, o.k.
Consideration for your fellow man
Would not hurt anybody, it sure fits in with my plan
Over the border, there lies the promised land
Where everything comes easy, you just hold out your hand
Keep your suspicions, Ive seen that look before
But I aint done nothing wrong now, is that such a suprise
But Ive got a sister whod be willing to oblige
She will do anything now to help me get to the outside
So dont tell anybody what I wanna do
If they find out you know that theyll never let me through, because
Its no fun being an illegal alien, I tell ya
Its no fun being an illegal alien, and its getting me down
Its no fun being an illegal alien, no no no no no
Its no fun being an illegal alien, yeah yeah yeah
Its no fun (not much fun) being an illegal alien, I tell ya that
Its no fun being an illegal alien, I tell ya
Its no fun being an illegal alien, no no no
Its no fun (not bloody much fun) being an illegal alien,
Its no fun being an illegal alien, and thats what I am.
song performed by Genesis
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
I Sold My Heart To The Junkman
Intro to: I sold my heart to the junkman
...this is a very sad song, this next song were gonna do.
The song is so sad that sometimes I have to leave the stage and
Cry in the backstage a little bit while Im singing this song. the reason
This song is so sad because this story happened to me just a little
While ago (not true, but true) (audience laughs) and it was, it was
A thing where I met this this beautiful girl, right? was she a
Beautiful girl as she was, she was nice and ... and I gave her my whole
Heart, every every bit, and she gave it back to me a month later all
Beat up, so bad and so terrible looking that
I sold my heart to the junkman !
Now I can never fall in love again....
(starts song)
...song, this is a very sad song, this next
Song were gonna do.
The song is so sad that sometimes I have to
Leave the stage and cry in the backstage a
Little bit while Im singing this song.
The reason this song is so sad because this
Story happened to me just a little while ago
(not true, but true) (audience laughs)
And it was, it was a thing where I met this
This beautiful girl, right? was she a
Beautiful girl as she was, she was nice and ...
And I gave her my whole heart, every every bit,
And she gave it back to me a month later all
Beat up, so bad and
So terrible looking that
I sold my heart to the junkman !
Now I can never fall in love again....
Well I gave my heart to you, open, so open and trusting
And you gave it back to me, it was broken up and busting
(sold my heart) I sold my heart to the junkman
(sold my heart) I sold my heart to the junkman
I can never fall in love again
Oh and I know you took my heart, you thought that you
Could use it
When you gave it back like a toy
You broken and bruised
(sold my heart) I sold my heart to the junkman
(I sold my heart) I sold my heart to the junkman
I can never fall in love again
Now, it was a movie sad scene, I played my part
Ooh I wanted the happy ending, but all I got was
A broken heart
(all he got was a broken heart)
(I sold my heart) I sold my heart to the junkman(I sold my heart) I sold my
Heart to the junkman
I can never fall in love again
Now I swear it was a movie setting, baby I played my part
[...] Read more
song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Illegal Search
Yo baby
Put your seatbelt on
I got my paperwork, dont worry
Its cool
[ the flex ]
Illegal search
(do you wanna see it? )
(Im gonna do it)
[ verse 1 ]
What the hell are you lookin for?
Cant a young man make money anymore?
Wear my jewels and like freak it on the floor
Or is it my job to make sure Im poor?
Cant my car look better than yours?
Keep a cigar in between my jaws
I drink champagne, to hell with coors
Never sold coke in my life, I do tours
Get that flashlight out of my face
Im not a dog, so damn it, put away the mace
I got cash and real attorneys on the case
Youre just a joker perpetratin a ace
You got time, you wanna give me a taste
I dont smoke cigarettes, so why youre lookin for base?
You might plant a gun, and hope I run a race
Eatin in the messhall, sayin my grace
You tried to frame me, but it wont work
Illegal search
[ the flex ]
Keep on searchin
[ l.l. cool j ]
Im totally relaxed
[ the flex ]
Illegal searchin
[ l.l. cool j ]
Illegal search
[ the flex ]
Keep on searchin
Keep on searchin
Keep on searchin
Gotta, gotta, gotta...
[ verse 2 ]
I call it nice, you call it a drug car
I say disco, you call it a drug bar
I say nice guy, you call me mr. good bar
I made progress, you say, not that far
I just started it, youre searchin my car
But all my paperwork is up to par
Its in my uncles name, so the frame wont work
Chump - illegal search
[ the flex ]
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sold Me Out
I always knew that theyd get me somehow sooner or later,
But with a bullet in the head, a knife in the back,
Not a pocket calculator.
Sorry mister, youre all wiped up,
Youre all washed up,
Sold you out.
Got no dreams, got no ambition,
Cant decide, cause theres no decision,
Got no claim to any position,
Cant compete with the competition.
Youre always complaining,
Its so depressing,
But if youre old enough,
Start to confess it.
You say, you sold me out,
To get a better deal for yourself,
You sold me out,
And now we want some of your precious wealth,
Because you sold me out.
Sold me out,
Sold me out,
Sold me out.
You sold me out,
To get a better deal for yourself.
You sold me out,
And now its every man for himself.
Work all your life, put the money in the bank,
Sign on the dotted line.
Try to draw it out, the jokes on you,
Put up the empty sign.
Sorry mister, were all sold out.
Sold me out,
Sold me out,
Sold me out,
Sold me out.
You, Im talkin to you.
You sold me out,
To get a better deal for yourself.
You sold me out,
And now we want some of your precious wealth.
And sell you out,
Like you sold me out.
Are you in so deep, that you cant get out?
Got no dreams, got no ambition,
Cant decide, cause theres no decision,
Got no claim to any position,
Cant compete with the competition.
Sold me out,
Sold me out,
Sold me out,
[...] Read more
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Oil Replaces Gold Standard
(Essay)
“Oil is the new gold standard. As international community becomes more oil dependent the closer mankind moves to global fascism.”
ROTMS
Securing all known oil reserves is the goal/long term plan of the United States, Britain and other conspirators. This gives them control over extraction, distribution and pricing.
“Peak oil” is a myth created to instill fear and create panic. There’s enough oil in Alaska alone to furnish the needs of the United States for more than enough time to develop alternate energy. The exploration, mapping, drilling and capping of oil wells on Gull Island located in the waters of Prudhoe Bay, Alaska is well known. The by-product of the Alaskan oil wells is an abundance of natural gas, indeed enough to supply heating needs in the U.S. for a very long time. The current administration dare not open this vast oil/natural gas reserve, lest their long term plans be spoiled.
In order to accomplish a global monopoly the conspirators must eliminate rogue producer/competitors like Iran, Venezuela and Russia. To this end, Bush-Cheney are currently pressing hard to start a war with Iran, by any means including lies and false accusations. They’re acutely aware that Iranian oil production readies to sell their oil for currencies other than the U.S. dollar. This could dramatically lower the price of gas at the pump and devastate the U.S. economy.
You may ask why/how could lower prices be harmful to the U.S. economy.
The simple truth resides in the deals cut with Saudi Arabia and other world oil producers by the USA. Indeed, the written and unwritten agreements that guarantee producers fabulous wealth, as long as they sell oil for dollars. The principal reason why Bush invaded Iraq was to curtail Hussein’s threat to sell oil for Euros. He’d still be in power today had he played ball with U.S. handlers.
As the largest oil producer in the world Saudi Arabia represents a classic example of how “One hand washes the other”. Big oil companies develop the oil fields and supervise extraction, Wall Street banking middlemen set oil barrel prices for dollars and collect huge profits, then as agreed Saudis plow their profits into the U.S. to help pay off debt. Should this delicate balance be disturbed, U.S. economic collapse would ensue. Now plug this scenario into other world producers and the conspiracy is exposed.
As it stands today, high prices at the gas pump are servicing national debt by we the consumers. To make things worse, offshore hedge funds are manipulating oil futures by speculating on the rise and fall of price of a barrel of oil, thus adding to volatility.
Planning and common sense have been thrown out the window for global control and profit…what follows is global fascism and “New World Order”.
As a global citizens and consumers we must seek the truth of what is taking place and then unite through national protest and organization. Knowledge is our true power and way out of a messy situation created by a greedy few.
“The righteous many, shall reclaim power and freedom from an evil few”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
First Book
OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.
I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.
I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Revel In The Joy Of Books
Revel in the Joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
On the joy of get hooked
It’s an addiction that’s boredom proof
Indulge, it’s fun to revel in the joy of books
Take up a book and get hooked
Nothing’s wrong with getting hooked on the joy of books
Don’t’ be a fool change your outlook take up a book
Look into the joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
In monotony don’t remain stuck take a journey with a book
Find adventure and excitement in the joy of books
A book will certainly change your gloomy outlook
Take up a boot and leisurely get hooked
Books are enlightening just try reading
Free your imagination with a book allow it to roam freely
Shucks get with the program revel in the joy of books
Books they are boredom proof just revel in the joy of books.
Anthony S.Phillander©280112
Revel in the Joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
On the joy of get hooked
It’s an addiction that’s boredom proof
Indulge, it’s fun to revel in the joy of books
Take up a book and get hooked
Nothing’s wrong with getting hooked on the joy of books
Don’t’ be a fool change your outlook take up a book
Look into the joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
In monotony don’t remain stuck take a journey with a book
Find adventure and excitement in the joy of books
A book will certainly change your gloomy outlook
Take up a boot and leisurely get hooked
[...] Read more
poem by Anthony Shurland Phillander
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sold My Soul
I prayed to God and jesus
But I guess they didnt hear
My sacrfice was useless
My pleas fell on deaf ears
So I cried in desperation
Bowed to evil sorcery
I looked to the lord in heaven
But he must have looked away
My crying eyes repentant
Please send her love to light my day
So I cried in desperation
Bowed to evil sorcery
I sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul to the devil
So I cried in desperation
Bowed to evil sorcery
I sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul to the devil
Sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul
Sold my soul
Sold my soul to the devil
To the devil
Sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul
I sold my soul
I sold my soul to the devil
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
GM Battle Earth Began In Eden
In Eden choices
between good evil
were desire made.
What fruit would you eat?
What choices will you make?
What life path decision walk?
Your actions carry implications
decisions have consequences
nature has laws as do societies;
when spoken written codes
of honour are foolish broken
fickle souls become cast outs.
Will you reap benefits
of your labour solid planted?
Will you curse this earth
despoil ground giving life?
Paradise waits in our hands
paradise is ours for taking.
Technology science wisdom frees
wise nations from animal labours.
Some corporations military nations
would rather dominate oil markets.
Spend waste their youth resources
seizing guarding oilfields pipelines.
General Motors Chevron greed lies
kills promise clean green electric cars;
to pump up huge greed oil profits
shredding technology enriching lives.
Japanese fuel economy hybrid cars
dominates resource saving efficiencies;
out distances American gas guzzling cars
while America reaps greenhouse storms.
Wise nations will embrace clean energies
while greed chokes on green house gases;
wind solar power rises eastern economies
China Japan Korea make wise electric cars.
Cry for American exploited poor stolen wages
oil companies sucked dry at life draining gas pumps;
weep blue American ice homes winter chill heat costs;
blessing stripped no free solar energy roof tiles.
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Never Been Sold Before
You ask me, babe, "Can you work tonight?"
I've been up, babe, since broad daylight
I just can't believe that you're selling me,
You never sold me before
I just can't become your lousy who-o-ore
Yeah, I'm stacked nice, they really like my style
Fifty bucks, babe, ha, can't even buy my smile
I just can't believe that you're selling me,
You never sold me before
I just can't become your lousy who-o-ore
I-I-I-I find I come around just to lay this money on you, babe
I'm sick of streets, chicks and dicks, and I'm,
I'm really sick of you
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had again
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had a-gain
I just can't believe that you're selling me,
You never sold me befo-ore
I just can't become your little whore
No, no, no, no
Oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had again
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had a-gain
Oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had again
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had a-gain
Oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had again
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had a-gain
Oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had again
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had a-gain
Oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had again
Oh-oh, I've never been sold before
And I'll never be had a-gain
song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Bought And Sold
Bought and sold.
Bought,
And sold.
Bought and sold...
As if no feelings I keep.
But deep inside I'm touched.
Nothing here is cheaply rushed.
Bought and sold...
On what to me has been told.
Not me I'm not of mush.
Nor easily crushed to dust.
Excesses on the cheapness of life,
Has made a weakness increase...
And,
Bought and sold.
Bought,
And sold.
Bought and sold.
Too many given anything.
Just to say they've gotten a piece,
To be...
Bought and sold.
Bought and sold...
On what to me has been told.
Not me I'm not of mush.
Nor easily crushed to dust.
Bought and sold...
As if no feelings I keep.
But deep inside I'm touched.
Nothing here is cheaply rushed.
Too many people take for granted and accept too easily.
To be sold,
On what they're told.
Too many people take for granted and accept too easily.
Bought and sold,
On what they're told.
Too many people take for granted and accept too easily.
To be sold,
On what they're told.
Bought and sold,
On what they're told.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Ill Oil Wells Love You
I met a man in texas
And oh, he was so fine
And I said to myself
Self, Im gonna make him mine
He owned a lot of oil wells and his bank roll sure was healthy
And I new if I married him Id suddenly be wealthy
Oh Ill oil wells love you
Ill oil wells care
Ill oil wells need you
I want you oil wells dear
Well I never had no money
Not a penny to my name
And I said Id find a rich man
And Id love my way to fame
So he took mt in his arms
And I cuddled up real near
The money bug then bit me and I wispered in his ear
Oh, Ill oil wells love you
Ill oil wells care
Ill oil wells need you
I want you oil wells dear
He looked in to my eyes and thought he saw a love light shine
Nearly did he know that that light was dollar signs
Now that we are married there aint nothin left to tell
Well live happily ever after because all is well that ends well
Oh, Ill oil wells love you
Ill oil wells care
Ill oil wells need you
I want you oil wells dear
song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Farewell
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool sprmg where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
[...] Read more
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage
Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool spring where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
[...] Read more
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Market Square Heroes
(derek dick, mark kelly, steve rothery, peter trewavas, michael pointer, brian jellyman, diz minnett)
I found smog at the end of my rainbow
I found my thoughts shift slowly into phase
Declared the constitution of the walkway
I realise its time to plan the day, the day
Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse
Are you following me, are you following me?
Well suffer my pretty warriors and follow me
I got a golden handshake that nearly broke my arm
I left the ranks of shuffling graveyard people
I got rust upon my hands from the padlocked factory gates
Silent chimneys provide the silent steeples
Cause Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse, the streetpulse
Are you following me? are you following me?
Well suffer my pretty children and follow me, follow me
Change, change, change!
Change, change, change!
I am your antichrist show me allegiance
Are you following me
I am your antichrist pledge to me defiance
Are you following me
Suffer my pretty warriors
Suffer my fallen child
Are you following me
The time has come to conquer and Ill provide your end
Suffer!
We march!
I give peace signs when I wage war in the disco
Im the warrior in the ultra violet haze
Armed with antisocial insecurity
I plan the path of destiny from this maze
Cause Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse, the streetpulse
Are you following me? are you following me?
Well suffer my fallen angels and follow me
Im the market square hero
Im the market square hero
Were market square heroes
Were the market square heroes
Are you following me?
Im the market square hero!
song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tale XXI
The Learned Boy
An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and
hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'
[...] Read more
poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
To Fiddle With A Nothing To Do To Get Done
Early in my life,
I became inquisitive about it.
And I am glad it has not stopped.
With a developing of many interests.
So happy am I,
My curiosities I have not dropped.
Some who have retired,
Seem to have done it from living life.
Only to have one interest...
As a routine until that ends.
And with nothing else in which to depend...
Can be,
And is...
A boring existence.
And to become bored with a life that still exists,
I can not imagine it.
Constantly there are changes made.
And those who once believed a stability meant,
Doing one thing that defined a normalcy...
May find themselves and that normalcy,
As outdated as one accepting...
A stability one perceived would stay forever.
And a forever,
Is just not meant to be.
And those once called a jack of all trades,
But a master of none.
Have found themselves amongst those,
Not the ones at home alone,
Twiddling their thumbs.
To fiddle with a nothing to do to get done.
This is not a problem for a jack of all trades.
To twiddle their thumbs with a nothing that's done.
This is not a problem for a jack of all trades.
To twiddle their thumbs with a nothing that's done.
This is not a problem for a jack of all trades.
To twiddle their thumbs with a nothing that's done.
A jack of all trades has a life that's saved.
And something everyday there is an interest made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!