I'm not going to sit here and bash the manager, we have to regroup.
quote by David Wells
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
You Keep Pushing That Bash Back
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
Don't put any pity in a bitter bashed bag.
To weigh you down like a wet rag had.
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
Don't put any pity in a bitter bashed bag.
To weigh you down like a wet rag had.
You keep pushing that bash back.
You keep pushing that bash back.
You keep pushing that bash back.
Don't drag that bashing or be tagged.
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
Push it push it,
That bash back!
You keep pushing,
That bash back!
Push it push it,
That bash back!
You keep pushing,
That bash back!
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
You can push that bitter bash back.
Don't put any pity in a bitter bashed bag.
To weigh you down like a wet rag had.
Don't put any pity in a bitter bashed bag.
To weigh you down like a wet rag had.
Push it push it,
That bash back!
You keep pushing,
That bash back!
Push it push it,
That bash back!
You keep pushing,
That bash back!
You can push that bitter bash back.
You keep pushing,
That bash back!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Million Dollar Bash (1)
by Bob Dylan
Well, that big dumb blonde
With her wheel in the gorge
And Turtle, that friend of theirs
With his checks all forged
And his cheeks in a chunk
With his cheese in the cash
They're all gonna be there
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
Ev'rybody from right now
To over there and back
The louder they come
The harder they crack
Come now, sweet cream
Don't forget to flash
We're all gonna meet
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
Well, I took my counselor
Out to the barn
Silly Nelly was there
She told him a yarn
Then along came Jones
Emptied the trash
Ev'rybody went down
To that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
Well, I'm hittin' it too hard
My stones won't take
I get up in the mornin'
But it's too early to wake
First it's hello, goodbye
Then push and then crash
But we're all gonna make it
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
Well, I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
I took my potatoes
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Million Dollar Bash
Well, that big dumb blonde
With her wheel in the gorge
And turtle, that friend of theirs
With his checks all forged
And his cheeks in a chunk
With his cheese in the cash
Theyre all gonna be there
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Its that million dollar bash
Evrybody from right now
To over there and back
The louder they come
The harder they crack
Come now, sweet cream
Dont forget to flash
Were all gonna meet
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Its that million dollar bash
Well, I took my counselor
Out to the barn
Silly nelly was there
She told him a yarn
Then along came jones
Emptied the trash
Evrybody went down
To that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Its that million dollar bash
Well, Im hittin it too hard
My stones wont take
I get up in the mornin
But its too early to wake
First its hello, goodbye
Then push and then crash
But were all gonna make it
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Its that million dollar bash
Well, I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
I took my potatoes
Down to be mashed
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Now You Bash
Ripped apart,
Because of a truth known
And was spoken.
To break those backs...
By efforts to attack!
To denounce and declare,
Those who spoke such truths...
Were traitors to be booted!
Made to dropp to knees...
To crush and smother.
But faith remained strong!
No waivering came along!
Now you bash,
Those who trashed your lives with deceit.
With claims you were not the first...
Who lead the campaign,
To defame and shame!
And you did not...
Stop the lies your started!
Those lies now haunting,
On the doorstep of your defeat!
Now you bash,
Those behind your slide
You rode to the top!
But now you can not hide,
The wounds you bear.
That now bring you despair.
Now you bash,
Those who blundered.
Those who falsely brought you there!
Now you bash,
Those you had followed...
Who fed you selfish greed!
Now you bash,
Those who stripped you...
From your lifestyle,
With comments...
That you had 'always' supported 'me'?
The one you despised so openly?
Now you bash yourselves,
In public displays of treason.
'What would give you that reason? '
With a bitterness that leaves you indebted.
And without regret...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thespis: Act I
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
GODS
Jupiter, Aged Diety
Apollo, Aged Diety
Mars, Aged Diety
Diana, Aged Diety
Mercury
THESPIANS
Thespis
Sillimon
TimidonTipseion
Preposteros
Stupidas
Sparkeio n
Nicemis
Pretteia
Daphne
Cymon
ACT I - Ruined Temple on the Summit of Mount Olympus
[Scene--The ruins of the The Temple of the Gods, on summit of
Mount Olympus. Picturesque shattered columns, overgrown with
ivy, etc. R. and L. with entrances to temple (ruined) R. Fallen
columns on the stage. Three broken pillars 2 R.E. At the back of
stage is the approach from the summit of the mountain. This
should be "practicable" to enable large numbers of people to
ascend and descend. In the distance are the summits of adjacent
mountains. At first all this is concealed by a thick fog, which
clears presently. Enter (through fog) Chorus of Stars coming off
duty as fatigued with their night's work]
CHO. Through the night, the constellations,
Have given light from various stations.
When midnight gloom falls on all nations,
We will resume our occupations.
SOLO. Our light, it's true, is not worth mention;
What can we do to gain attention.
When night and noon with vulgar glaring
A great big moon is always flaring.
[During chorus, enter Diana, an elderly goddess. She is carefully
wrapped up in cloaks, shawls, etc. A hood is over her head, a
respirator in her mouth, and galoshes on her feet. During the
[...] Read more
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Redemption Song (feat. Ziggy Marley Live)
Featuring Ziggy Marley
Lauryn:
Oh Pirates yes they rob I
Stole I from the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit
But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the Allmighty
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly
Won't you help to sing
these songs of freedom
'Cause all I ever have
Redemption Songs (x3)
Ziggy & Lauryn:
Emancipate yourself from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our minds
Have no fear for atomic energy
'Cause none of them can stop the time
How long shall they kill our prophets
While we stand aside and look
Yes, some say it's just a part of it
But we've got to fulfill the book
Won't you help us sing
Another song of freedom
'Cause all I ever have
Redemption Song (x3)
L. Boogie
Lauryn:
Yo, If they can stop this fruit
They would pop this route
Chop this fruit
Treat us like a prostitute
Knock this youth
See me in my cocky suit
God's recruit
From fallin even God's salute
Tribal truth
Ja people can't be mute
Share my youth to Babylon can't regroup
Sing, to Babylon can't regroup
Sing, to Babylon can't regroup
Lauryn & Ziggy:
Emancipate yourself from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our minds
Have no fear for atomic energy
'Cause none of them can stop the time
How long shall they kill our prophets
While we stand aside and look
Some say it's just a part of it
[...] Read more
song performed by Lauryn Hill
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Gatecrash
Well, me and my buddies are goin to a party tonight
And we dont care if we aint got no invite
We dont care if our face dont fit
Gonna grab a little whiskey, grab a little......
Gatecrash, gatecrash
Get yourself ready for a real bash
Hide your ladies,cause well be talkin trash
Snort your cocaine, smoke your grass
So get yourself ready for our gatecrash...
You dont really want to know but were still going to appear
Weve got elvis snarls and arrive in biker gear
We dont care if you call the fuzz
By the time they get there well be gone with a buzz
Gatecrash, gatecrash
Get yourself ready for a real bash
Hide your ladies, were gonna cause a smash
Snort your cocaine, smoke your grass
So get yourself ready for our gatecrash...
Gatecrash, gatecrash
Get yourself ready for a real bash
Hide your ladies, were gonna move in fast
Snort your cocaine, smoke your grass
So get yourself ready for our gatecrash...
Well, me and my buddies are going to your party tonight
We dont care if we got no invite
We dont care if we cause a splash
Gonna drink a lot of whiskey, grab a little...
Gatecrash, gatecrash
Get yourself ready for a real bash
Hide your ladies,cause well be talkin trash
Snort your cocaine, smoke your grass
So get yourself ready for our gatecrash...
(written by nazareth)
Copyright 1982 fool circle music limited
All rights reserved.
Lyrics used by permission
Reproduction prohibited
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cloud 9
I'm sitting waiting on cloud nine
Sitting here waiting on cloud nine
What do I have to do man
Tell me what is going on
Tell me what is going
If I remain strong I'll go to heaven where I've been
She comes to me with open arms
She's an angel man she's an angel
We float away
But she brings me back
Did I do something bad I ask myself
Thrash, Bash, Kill myself, eat a bunch of trash
Thrash, Bash, Get some cash and spend it on some drugs
Explode into a million pieces so noone can find me
I'll be on cloud nine
Cloud nine
Going out of my mind
Raining down on cloud nine
Nothing I can do man
Tell me what is going on
Tell me what is going
If I remain strong I'll go to heaven where I've been
She comes to me with open arms
She's an angel.. She's an angel
We float away
But she brings me back
Did I do something bad I ask myself
Trash, bash, kill myself, eat a bunch of trash
Trash, Bash, Get some cash and spend it on some drugs
Explode into a million pieces so no one can find me
I'll be on cloud nine
Cloud Nine, Cloud nine
Send me away to cloud nine
Cloud Nine, Cloud nine
Send me away to cloud nine
Call me when the sun goes down
song performed by Puddle Of Mudd
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Maori's Wool
The Maoris are a mighty race -- the finest ever known;
Before the missionaries came they worshipped wood and stone;
They went to war and fought like fiends, and when the war was done
They pacified their conquered foes by eating every one.
But now-a-days about the pahs in idleness they lurk,
Prepared to smoke or drink or talk -- or anything but work.
The richest tribe in all the North in sheep and horse and cow,
Were those who led their simple lives at Rooti-iti-au.
'Twas down to town at Wellington a noble Maori came,
A Rangatira of the best, Rerenga was his name --
(The word Rerenga means a "snag" -- but until he was gone
This didn't strike the folk he met -- it struck them later on).
He stalked into the Bank they call the "Great Financial Hell",
And told the Chief Financial Fiend the tribe had wool to sell.
The Bold Bank Manager looked grave -- the price of wool was high.
He said, "We'll lend you what you need -- we're not disposed to buy.
"You ship the wool to England, Chief! -- You'll find it's good advice,
And meanwhile you can draw from us the local market price."
The Chief he thanked them courteously and said he wished to state
In all the Rooti-iti tribe his mana would be freat,
But still the tribe were simple folk, and did not understand
This strange finance that gave them cash without the wool in hand.
So off he started home again, with trouble on his brow,
To lay the case before the tribe at Rooti-iti-au.
They held a great korero in the Rooti-iti clan,
With speeches lasting half a day from every leading man.
They called themselves poetic names -- "lost children in a wood";
They said the Great Bank Manager was Kapai -- extra good!
And so they sent Rerenga down, full-powered and well-equipped,
To draw as much as he could get, and let the wool be shipped;
And wedged into a "Cargo Tank", full up from stern to bow,
A mighty clip of wool went Home from Rooti-iti-au.
It was the Bold Bank Manager who drew a heavy cheque;
Rerenga cashed it thoughtfully, then clasped him round the neck;
A hug from him was not at all a thing you'd call a lark --
You see he lived on mutton-birds and dried remains of shark --
But still it showed his gratitude; and, as he pouched the pelf,
"I'll haka for you, sir," he said, "in honour of yourself!"
The haka is a striking dance -- the sort they don't allow
In any place more civilized than Rooti-iti-au.
He "haka'd" most effectively -- then, with an airy grace,
Rubbed noses with the Manager, and vanished into space.
But when the wool return came back, ah me, what sighs and groans!
For every bale of Maori wool was loaded up with stones!
Yes -- thumping great New Zealand rocks among the wool they found;
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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The Journey of an Assistant Manager: The past and the future
Its a lovely morning
the grasses wet with the morning rain
I am standing, here at the club grounds
watching, as my players train...
I am the Assistant Manager of Winslow Town F.C.
We are preparing for tomorrow's game
discussing about the tactics, set-pieces and all
At this moment, I couldn't help but recall memories
of how I've fared in my life and reached here after all...
'Sports' was the thing for me always
I regretted for the player in me, that I never found
Registering myself for the Sports Management course
I knew that I had stepped into the world, that I always loved!
A famous Swedish manager, I dont know what struck him
He joined an Indian club to steer it out of trouble
He was in need of a translator, I applied for it fast
and we both helped our club, for its first ever 'double'
We won the League and the National Cup that year!
During these two years that I stayed there
I learnt quickly, all the tricks-n-trades of the game
Tough I wasa a mere translator, soon I became his friend
and he became my mentor, taught me everything 'bout the game...
The third year, he started getting offers from England
and he packed his bags, asked me to come along
I would have been the foolest had I refused him
Saying yes, I started dreaming where my career was going to land!
And so, we both came to England, that very year
to this wonderful place, this Winslow Town Football Club!
promoted as a Youth Coach, thus begun my real career
and so began my hottest pursuit
to become the 'World's Best Manager of the Year'...
And today, after two more years...
Its a lovely morning
the grasses wet with the morning rain
I am standing, here at the club grounds
watching, as my players train...
From a simple student to a translator
to a youth coach at England, to being the Assistant Manager
Life's taken me places, that I am sure
I have definitely set my eyes someday,
on becoming the 'World's Best Manager of the Year'...
poem by Soumya Dash
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Home By The Sea
Creeping up the blind side, shinning up the wall
Stealing thru the dark of night
Climbing thru a window, stepping to the floor
Checking to the left and the right
Picking up the pieces, putting them away
Something doesnt feel quite right
Help me someone, let me out of here
Then out of the dark was suddenly heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Coming out the woodwork, thru the open door
Pushing from above and below
Shadows but no substance, in the shape of men
Round and down and sideways they go
Adrift without direction, eyes that hold despair
Then as one they sign and they moan
Help us someone, let us out of here
Living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Sit down sit down
Sit down sit down sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Images of sorrow, pictures of delight
Things that go to make up a life
Endless days of summer longer nights of gloom
Waiting for the morning light
Scenes of unimportance, photos in a frame
Things that go to make up a life
Help us someone, let us out of here
Cos living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Sit down sit down
Sit down sit down sit down sit down
As we relive out lives in what we tell you
Let us relive out lives in what we tell you
Sit down sit down sit down
Cos you wont get away
No with us you will stay
For the rest of your days - sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Let us relive our lives in what we tell you
song performed by Genesis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Monitored or Not It Just Becomes Hypnotic
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
Toxic.
Toxic.
And nothing exotic will make this erotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And people who want what they want wont stop!
Like the hands of a clock that ticks with a tock!
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Or the chopping heard of meat on a butcher's block!
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop!
People like their beef stewed nice and hot!
And nothing exotic will make this erotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And people who want what they want wont stop!
Like the hands of a clock that ticks with a tock!
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Re: Vacant Manager’s Position
22nd October 2009
The Chairman
Mr. Steve Gibson
Middlesbrough F.C.
Riverside Stadium
Middlesbrough TS3 6RS
Re: Vacant Manager’s Position
Dear Mr. Gibson
I would like to apply for Manager’s position in your club,
I’m not a football celebrity but that should be no reason for a snub.
I’m never been a manager at any level, not even the pub,
I know nothing about football, some pundits and fans
Would argue, I will be in good company and should be the man.
Gorden Strachan may be the favourite for Boro’s hot-seat
But the signing is not complete,
In 2009, the year of belt tightening, to be discreet,
I’ll work for a quarter of Southagte’s wage.
Honest I’m not saying it to rattle your cage!
Wasted money on expansive contracts, I can save
By hiring overseas interrogator
Used by MI5 and C.I.A as translator,
Although some times they us questionable methods
They have proved to be excellent mediator.
I’m used to pain and working under pressure,
I’ve been married twice and have six children
My older children still call me the thresher.
My appointment as manager
Would Win! Win! Win! Win! Win!
For all,
I hope you’ll agree that I’m the best candidate.
‘Or even quite a catch! ’ ha, ha, ha.
Yours Sincerely
Khadim Hussain
poem by Khadim Hussain
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Boot That Supercool That You Do
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the scooting of satisfaction scats.
Will you pack it to be shipped away?
Or will you hang it to dust,
On a rack.
When the need to attract,
Lacks.
Then whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the flaunting of it needs to...
Sit back,
And...
Relax.
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
And have you given thought to that?
It's sad to see a rusting swagger.
Outdated and fading quick.
Yes it's sad to see a rusting swagger.
Doing it's best to be hip...
Limping through it!
So...
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the scooting of satisfaction scats.
Will you pack it to be shipped away?
Or will you hang it to dust,
On a rack.
When the need to attract,
Lacks.
Whatcha gonna do,
With your supercool?
You need to sit back and relax.
No need for you to prove that you've been supercool.
You need to sit back and relax.
Whatcha gonna do,
With your supercool?
You need to sit back and relax.
No need for you to prove that you've been supercool.
You need to sit back and relax.
You need to boot it and be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Dip Yo Pity Here To Sit
Don't dip yo pity here to sit.
No permitted pity here can visit.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit.
No permitted pity here can visit.
When you tire of your weeping...
You can call on me.
But don't dip yo pity in a pit!
To leave it here to sit.
When you tire of your weeping...
You can call on me.
But don't dip yo pity in a pit!
To leave it here to sit.
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No tears on my pillow.
Unless they're mine to cry.
Everyday you bring me pity.
As if your pity thrives.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No yo...
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No yo!
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No yo.
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Passerby
I'm not crazy like my brother
but it's the way I choose
I don't hang around with a six pence
when I got everything to lose
would you bring me my money
and take from me all that I was worth
cause I wasn't worth nothing
and I wasn't yours
oh don't you be a passerby
oh won't you sit down
and stay a while
cause it's been too long since you been around
sold out men from across the way
he thought he heard what he heard you say
hey now man your watch it shines
for the bid of a moment yeilds 40 times
oh don't you be a passerby
oh won't you sit down
and stay while
don't you be a passerby
oh don't won't you sit down
and stay a while...
cause it's been too long since you been around
woman and little child
don't you be a passerby
I'm not crazy like my brother
but it's the way I choose
I don't hang around with a six pence
when I got everything to lose
would you bring me my money
and take from me all that I was worth
cause I wasn't worth nothing
and I wasn't yours
oh don't you be a passerby
oh won't you sit down
and stay a while
cause it's been too long since you been around
sold out men from across the way
he thought he heard what he heard you say
hey now man your watch it shines
for the bid of a moment yeilds 40 times
[...] Read more
song performed by Dispatch from Who Are We Living For?
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sit Down, Stand Up
Sit down, stand up
Sit down, stand up
Walk into the jaws of hell (sit down, stand up)
Walk into the jaws of hell (sit down, stand up)
Anytime (sit down)
Anytime (stand up)
Sit down, stand up
Sit down, stand up
We can wipe you out anytime (sit down, stand up)
We can wipe you out (sit down, stand up)
Anytime (sit down)
Anytime
Stand up (the rain drops the rain drops)
Sit down (the rain drops the rain drops)
Oh
The rain drops x46
song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Alex Ferguson is the best manager I've ever had at this level. Well, he's the only manager I've actually had at this level. But he's the best manager I've ever had.
quote by David Beckham
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ruth
All is well—in a prison—to-night, and the warders are crying ‘All’s Well!’
I must speak, for the sake of my heart—if it’s but to the walls of my cell.
For what does it matter to me if to-morrow I go where I will?
I’m as free as I ever shall be—there is naught in my life to fulfil.
I am free! I am haunted no more by the question that tortured my brain:
‘Are you sane of a people gone mad? or mad in a world that is sane?’
I have had time to rest—and to pray—and my reason no longer is vext
By the spirit that hangs you one day, and would hail you as martyr the next.
Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window that’s narrowed and barred?
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas-light that flares in the yard?
No! And what does it matter to me if to-morrow I sail from the land?
I am free, as I never was free! I exult in my loneliness grand!
Be a saint and a saviour of men—be a Christ, and they’ll slander and rail!
Only Crime’s understood in the world, and a man is respected—in gaol.
But I find in my raving a balm—in the worst that has come to the worst—
Let me think of it all—I grow calm—let me think it all out from the first.
Beyond the horizon of Self do the walls of my prison retreat,
And I stand in a gap of the hills with the scene of my life at my feet;
The range to the west, and the Peak, and the marsh where the dark ridges end,
And the spurs running down to the Creek, and the she-oaks that sigh in the bend.
The hints of the river below; and, away on the azure and green,
The old goldfield of Specimen Flat, and the township—a blotch on the scene;
The store, the hotels, and the bank—and the gaol and the people who come
With the weatherboard box and the tank—the Australian idea of home:
The scribe—spirit-broken; the ‘wreck,’ in his might-have-been or shame;
The townsman ‘respected’ or worthy; the workman respectful and tame;
The boss of the pub with his fine sense of honour, grown moral and stout,
Like the spielers who came with the ‘line,’ on the cheques that were made farther out.
The clever young churchman, despised by the swaggering, popular man;
The doctor with hands clasped behind, and bowed head, as if under a ban;
The one man with the brains—with the power to lead, unsuspected and dumb,
Whom Fate sets apart for the Hour—the man for the hour that might come.
The old local liar whose story was ancient when Egypt was young,
And the gossip who hangs on the fence and poisons God’s world with her tongue;
The haggard bush mother who’d nag, though a husband or child be divine,
And who takes a fierce joy in a rag of the clothes on the newcomer’s line.
And a lad with a cloud on his heart who was lost in a world vague and dim—
No one dreamed as he drifted apart that ’twas genius the matter with him;
Who was doomed, in that ignorant hole, to its spiritless level to sink,
Till the iron had entered his soul, and his brain found a refuge in drink.
Perhaps I was bitter because of the tongues of disgrace in the town—
Of a boy-nature misunderstood and its nobler ambitions sneered
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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Surprise in Japan - revelation in an interview
travel consultant interivew
the manager talks about
karma
lourism agency interview
the manager talks about
horrendous things japan did
It was a real surprise this manager of a famous travel agency in Japan talked about Japan's atrocities in the war when interviewing me for aj ob. In a tone of anger, he talked about what goes around comes around and that Japan too would be in for bad times when the time comes.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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