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I bought some batteries, but they weren't included.

quote by Steven Wright
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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
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Love Toy

Doo wop bop
When it comes to boys
Mamma always said
Never let any temptation
Go to your head
Doo wop bop
Oh but its so tempting so delicious
When I kiss your lips
When I feel your fingertips
Cause ooh, you my love toy
No batteries required
Ooh youre my love toy
Wind me up and I start to move
Ooh youre my love toy
No batteries required
No, no, no Id be so ashamed
Beisdes Ive got my reputation to maintain
Must you be so darn persistent
Tryin to make me weak
bout to knock me off my feet
Ooh, you my love toy
No batteries required
Ooh youre my love toy
Wind me up and I start to move
Ooh youre my love toy
No batteries required
Doo wop bop, ooi ooi doo wop, doo wop bop
You are always on the sly
When I see you smiling
With that look in your eyes
Whispering those little secrets
You really turn me on
Doo wop bop
Makes me wanna have more fun
Ooh, you my love toy
No batteries required
Ooh youre my love toy
Wind me up and I start to move
Ooh youre my love toy
No batteries required
Ooh...que rico
Ooi ooi doo wop bop
No batteries required
Ooi ooi doo wop bop
Love toy
Ooi ooi doo wop bop
No batteries required
Ooi ooi doo wop bop
Love toy

song performed by Gloria Estefan
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Canto the Seventh

I
O Love! O Glory! what are ye who fly
Around us ever, rarely to alight?
There's not a meteor in the polar sky
Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight.
Chill, and chain'd to cold earth, we lift on high
Our eyes in search of either lovely light;
A thousand and a thousand colours they
Assume, then leave us on our freezing way.

II
And such as they are, such my present tale is,
A non-descript and ever-varying rhyme,
A versified Aurora Borealis,
Which flashes o'er a waste and icy clime.
When we know what all are, we must bewail us,
But ne'ertheless I hope it is no crime
To laugh at all things -- for I wish to know
What, after all, are all things -- but a show?

III
They accuse me -- Me -- the present writer of
The present poem -- of -- I know not what --
A tendency to under-rate and scoff
At human power and virtue, and all that;
And this they say in language rather rough.
Good God! I wonder what they would be at!
I say no more than hath been said in Danté's
Verse, and by Solomon and by Cervantes;

IV
By Swift, by Machiavel, by Rochefoucault,
By Fénélon, by Luther, and by Plato;
By Tillotson, and Wesley, and Rousseau,
Who knew this life was not worth a potato.
'T is not their fault, nor mine, if this be so --
For my part, I pretend not to be Cato,
Nor even Diogenes. -- We live and die,
But which is best, you know no more than I.

V
Socrates said, our only knowledge was
"To know that nothing could be known;" a pleasant
Science enough, which levels to an ass
Each man of wisdom, future, past, or present.
Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas!
Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent,
That he himself felt only "like a youth
Picking up shells by the great ocean -- Truth."

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Don Juan: Canto The Seventh

O Love! O Glory! what are ye who fly
Around us ever, rarely to alight?
There's not a meteor in the polar sky
Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight.
Chill, and chain'd to cold earth, we lift on high
Our eyes in search of either lovely light;
A thousand and a thousand colours they
Assume, then leave us on our freezing way.

And such as they are, such my present tale is,
A non-descript and ever-varying rhyme,
A versified Aurora Borealis,
Which flashes o'er a waste and icy clime.
When we know what all are, we must bewail us,
But ne'ertheless I hope it is no crime
To laugh at all things- for I wish to know
What, after all, are all things- but a show?

They accuse me--Me--the present writer of
The present poem--of--I know not what--
A tendency to under-rate and scoff
At human power and virtue, and all that;
And this they say in language rather rough.
Good God! I wonder what they would be at!
I say no more than hath been said in Dante's
Verse, and by Solomon and by Cervantes;

By Swift, by Machiavel, by Rochefoucault,
By Fenelon, by Luther, and by Plato;
By Tillotson, and Wesley, and Rousseau,
Who knew this life was not worth a potato.
'Tis not their fault, nor mine, if this be so-
For my part, I pretend not to be Cato,
Nor even Diogenes.--We live and die,
But which is best, you know no more than I.

Socrates said, our only knowledge was
'To know that nothing could be known;' a pleasant
Science enough, which levels to an ass
Each man of wisdom, future, past, or present.
Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas!
Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent,
That he himself felt only 'like a youth
Picking up shells by the great ocean--Truth.'

Ecclesiastes said, 'that all is vanity'--
Most modern preachers say the same, or show it
By their examples of true Christianity:
In short, all know, or very soon may know it;
And in this scene of all-confess'd inanity,

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Batteries Not Included

Six oclock in the morning
Wake up by the bed
There sits a japanese toy
And I like it
See the name on the wrapping
Cant read yet but I know
Its made for me (lucky boy)
And I want it
Lights that flash, wheels that go round
Digital display
Fresh silicon chips to enjoy
And I need them
(wheres the batteries? )
Sitting silent and empty
Wish I could breathe life
In my new friend whos terribly still
And I like him
Just like me. prhaps hes hungry.
Six volts make him smile
And twelve volts would probably kill
How I like him
Daddy, wheres the batteries
I cant find my batteries
(theres no batteries)
Seven oclock in the morning
They find me by the bed
With my friend the japanese toy
I am with him
Mummy, daddy --- cant see you,
Hear you. batteries not
Included in this little boy
(wheres my batteries? )

song performed by Jethro Tull
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I noticed that there are no B batteries. I think that's to avoid confusion, cause if there were you wouldn't know if someone was stuttering. 'Yes, hello I'd like some b-batteries.' 'What kind?' 'B-batteries.' 'What kind?' 'B-batteries!' and D-batteries that's hard for foreigners. 'Yes, I would like de batteries.'

quote by Demetri Martin
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The Columbiad: Book VII

The Argument

Coast of France rises in vision. Louis, to humble the British power, forms an alliance with the American states. This brings France, Spain and Holland into the war, and rouses Hyder Ally to attack the English in India. The vision returns to America, where the military operations continue with various success. Battle of Monmouth. Storming of Stonypoint by Wayne. Actions of Lincoln, and surrender of Charleston. Movements of Cornwallis. Actions of Greene, and battle of Eutaw. French army arrives, and joins the American. They march to besiege the English army of Cornwallis in York and Gloster. Naval battle of Degrasse and Graves. Two of their ships grappled and blown up. Progress of the siege. A citadel mined and blown up. Capture of Cornwallis and his army. Their banners furled and muskets piled on the field of battle.

Thus view'd the Pair; when lo, in eastern skies,
From glooms unfolding, Gallia's coasts arise.
Bright o'er the scenes of state a golden throne,
Instarr'd with gems and hung with purple, shone;
Young Bourbon there in royal splendor sat,
And fleets and moving armies round him wait.
For now the contest, with increased alarms,
Fill'd every court and roused the world to arms;
As Hesper's hand, that light from darkness brings,
And good to nations from the scourge of kings,
In this dread hour bade broader beams unfold,
And the new world illuminate the old.

In Europe's realms a school of sages trace
The expanding dawn that waits the Reasoning Race;
On the bright Occident they fix their eyes,
Thro glorious toils where struggling nations rise;
Where each firm deed, each new illustrious name
Calls into light a field of nobler fame:
A field that feeds their hope, confirms the plan
Of well poized freedom and the weal of man.
They scheme, they theorize, expand their scope,
Glance o'er Hesperia to her utmost cope;
Where streams unknown for other oceans stray,
Where suns unseen their waste of beams display,
Where sires of unborn nations claim their birth,
And ask their empires in those wilds of earth.
While round all eastern climes, with painful eye,
In slavery sunk they see the kingdoms lie,
Whole states exhausted to enrich a throne,
Their fruits untasted and their rights unknown;
Thro tears of grief that speak the well taught mind,
They hail the æra that relieves mankind.

Of these the first, the Gallic sages stand,
And urge their king to lift an aiding hand.
The cause of humankind their souls inspired,
Columbia's wrongs their indignation fired;
To share her fateful deeds their counsel moved,
To base in practice what in theme they proved:
That no proud privilege from birth can spring,
No right divine, nor compact form a king;
That in the people dwells the sovereign sway,
Who rule by proxy, by themselves obey;

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 5

Columbus hail'd them with a father's smile,
Fruits of his cares and children of his toil;
With tears of joy, while still his eyes descried
Their course adventurous o'er the distant tide.
Thus, when o'er deluged earth her Seraph stood,
The tost ark bounding on the shoreless flood,
The sacred treasure claim'd his guardian view,
While climes unnoticed in the wave withdrew.
He saw the squadrons reach the rising strand,
Leap from the wave and share the joyous land;
Receding forests yield the heroes room,
And opening wilds with fields and gardens bloom.
Fill'd with the glance extatic, all his soul
Now seems unbounded with the scene to roll,
And now, impatient, with retorted eye,
Perceives his station in another sky.
Waft me, O winged Angel, waft me o'er,
With those blest heroes, to the happy shore;
There let me live and die–but all appears
A fleeting vision; these are future years.
Yet grant in nearer view the climes may spread,
And my glad steps may seem their walks to tread;
While eastern coasts and kingdoms, wrapp'd in night,
Arise no more to intercept the sight.
The hero spoke; the Angel's powerful hand
Moves brightening o'er the visionary land;
The height, that bore them, still sublimer grew,
And earth's whole circuit settled from their view:
A dusky Deep, serene as breathless even,
Seem'd vaulting downward, like another heaven;
The sun, rejoicing on his western way,
Stamp'd his fair image in the inverted day:
Sudden, the northern shores again drew nigh,
And life and action fill'd the hero's eye.
Where the dread Laurence breaks his passage wide,
Where Missisippi's milder currents glide,
Where midland realms their swelling mountainsheave,
And slope their champaigns to the distant wave,
On the green banks, and o'er the extended plain,
Rise into sight the happiest walks of man.
The placid ports, that break the billowing gales,
Rear their tall masts and stretch their whitening sails;
The harvests wave, the groves with fruitage bend,
And bulwarks heave, and spiry domes ascend;
Fair works of peace in growing splendor rise,
And grateful earth repays the bounteous skies.
Till war invades; when opening vales disclose,
In moving crouds, the savage tribes of foes;
High tufted quills their painted foreheads press,
Dark spoils of beasts their shaggy shoulders dress,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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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
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The Columbiad: Book VI

The Argument

British cruelty to American prisoners. Prison Ship. Retreat of Washington with the relics of his army, pursued by Howe. Washington recrossing the Delaware in the night, to surprise the British van, is opposed by uncommon obstacles. His success in this audacious enterprise lays the foundation of the American empire. A monument to be ere on the bank of the Delaware. Approach of Burgoyne, sailing up the St. Laurence with an army of Britons and various other nations. Indignant energy of the colonies, compared to that of Greece in opposing the invasion of Xerxes. Formation of an army of citizens, under the command of Gates. Review of the American and British armies, and of the savage tribes who join the British standard. Battle of Saratoga. Story of Lucinda. Second battle, and capture of Burgoyne and his army.

But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.

Cold-blooded Cruelty, first fiend of hell,
Ah think no more with savage hordes to dwell;
Quit the Caribian tribes who eat their slain,
Fly that grim gang, the Inquisitors of Spain,
Boast not thy deeds in Moloch's shrines of old,
Leave Barbary's pirates to their blood-bought gold,
Let Holland steal her victims, force them o'er
To toils and death on Java's morbid shore;
Some cloak, some color all these crimes may plead;
Tis avarice, passion, blind religion's deed;
But Britons here, in this fraternal broil,
Grave, cool, deliberate in thy service toil.
Far from the nation's eye, whose nobler soul
Their wars would humanize, their pride control,
They lose the lessons that her laws impart,
And change the British for the brutal heart.
Fired by no passion, madden'd by no zeal,
No priest, no Plutus bids them not to feel;
Unpaid, gratuitous, on torture bent,
Their sport is death, their pastime to torment;
All other gods they scorn, but bow the knee,
And curb, well pleased, O Cruelty, to thee.

Come then, curst goddess, where thy votaries reign,
Inhale their incense from the land and main;
Come to Newyork, their conquering arms to greet,
Brood o'er their camp and breathe along their fleet;
The brother chiefs of Howe's illustrious name
Demand thy labors to complete their fame.
What shrieks of agony thy praises sound!
What grateless dungeons groan beneath the ground!
See the black Prison Ship's expanding womb
Impested thousands, quick and dead, entomb.
Barks after barks the captured seamen bear,
Transboard and lodge thy silent victims there;
A hundred scows, from all the neighboring shore,
Spread the dull sail and ply the constant oar,
Waft wrecks of armies from the well fought field,
And famisht garrisons who bravely yield;

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Vibrator

Is it my imagination
Or are U with the boys again?
U used 2 take me with U
I used 2 be your best friend
When U finally come home
Your car ain't got no gasoline
That's OK, baby
Cuz my new love treats me like a queen
Eat your heart out
CHORUS:
Vibrator makes me feel so good
Vibrator - don't U wish U could?
Vibrator - his patience can't be beat
Vibrator - I guess U could say that U're obsolete
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
It must be my imagination
Cuz I know I didn't hear U laugh
U'd be surprised what I do when U're through
Taking your macho bath
Uncharted waters sailed with ease
Land is always in sight
But with U it's always abandon ship (abandon ship)
And we didn't even get away from the dock 2night
Eat your heart out
CHORUS
Is it my imagination
Are U with the boys again?
U used 2 take me with U
I used 2 be your best friend
But now I'm just a plaything
Your ego-feeding female sex machine
Well U can take a hike, mister
Cuz U're the poorest excuse 4 a man I've ever seen!
Eat your heart out, sucker!
CHORUS
Vibrator makes me feel so good
Vibrator makes me feel so good
Uh oh, oh no!
Please don't die on me no
(Vibrator) {repeat in BG}
May I help U?
Yes, I was wondering if U had batteries 4 my bo...
Oh my God!
Look at the size of that thing!
Where did U get this?
Look, U got batteries or not?
Oh sure, we have batteries
They're in the storage room
Tell U what
I'll just take this downstairs and put them in myself

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 6

Naval action of De Grasse and Graves. Capture of Cornwallis..
Thus view'd the sage. When, lo, in eastern skies,
From glooms unfolding, Gallia's coasts arise.
Bright o'er the scenes of state, a golden throne,
Instarr'd with gems and hung with purple, shone.
Great Louis there, the pride of monarchs, sate,
And fleets and moving armies round him wait;
O'er western shores extend his ardent eyes,
Thro' glorious toils where struggling nations rise;
Each virtuous deed, each new illustrious name,
Wakes in his soul the living light of fame.
He sees the liberal, universal cause,
That wondering worlds in still attention draws;
And marks, beyond, through western walks of day,
Where midnight suns their happier beams display,
What sires of unborn nations claim their birth,
And ask their empires in that waste of earth.
Then o'er the eastern world he turn'd his eye;
Where, sunk in slavery hapless kingdoms lie;
Saw realms exhausted to enrich a throne,
Their fruits untasted and their rights unknown:
A tear of pity spoke his melting mind–
He raised his sceptre to relieve mankind,
Eyed the great father of the Bourbon name,
Awaked his virtues and recall'd his fame.
Fired by the grandeur of the splendid throne,
Illustrious chiefs and councils round him shone;
On the glad youth with kindling joy they gaze,
The rising heir of universal praise.
Vergennes rose stately o'er the noble throng,
And fates of nations on his accents hung;
Columbia's wrongs his indignation fired,
And generous thoughts his glowing breast inspired;
To aid her infant toils his counsel moved,
In freedom founded and by Heaven approved.
While other peers, in sacred virtue bold,
With eager voice the coming scenes unfold;
Surrounding heroes wait the monarch's word,
In foreign fields to draw the glittering sword,
Prepared with joy to trace the distant main,
Mix in the strife and join the martial train;
Who now assert the rights of sovereign power,
And build new empires on the western shore.
O'er all, the approving monarch cast a look,
And listening nations trembled while he spoke.
Ye states of France, and, ye of rising name,
That work those distant miracles of fame,
Hear and attend; let Heaven the witness bear,
We lift the sword, we aid the righteous war.
Let leagues eternal bind each friendly land,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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My Nordic Christmas Story

I bought boots for Christmas to tread the icy plains.
I bought toys for Christmas with Santas in my trains.
I lit my home for Christmas with a Cedar bright.
I made cup cakes for Christmas for my love's delight.
I bought Jane a dress for Christmas with ribbons pink.
I bought for my grandma a cozy Christmas mink.
I bought for Jill two amazing Christmas Sparrows.
I bought for Jack a toy quiver full of arrows.
I bought an Elk for Christmas with nose giving light.
I bought for Christmas, candles for a solemn night.
I made for Christmas a warm and sweet lemonade,
and I sang on Christmas morn, a sweet Serenade.

poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (18 December 2020)
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Canto the Eighth

I
Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!
These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,
Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds:
And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds
At present such things, since they are her theme,
So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars,
Bellona, what you will -- they mean but wars.

II
All was prepared -- the fire, the sword, the men
To wield them in their terrible array.
The army, like a lion from his den,
March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, --
A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
To breathe destruction on its winding way,
Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain
Immediately in others grew again.

III
History can only take things in the gross;
But could we know them in detail, perchance
In balancing the profit and the loss,
War's merit it by no means might enhance,
To waste so much gold for a little dross,
As hath been done, mere conquest to advance.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

IV
And why? -- because it brings self-approbation;
Whereas the other, after all its glare,
Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation,
Which (it may be) has not much left to spare,
A higher title, or a loftier station,
Though they may make Corruption gape or stare,
Yet, in the end, except in Freedom's battles,
Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles.

V
And such they are -- and such they will be found:
Not so Leonidas and Washington,
Whose every battle-field is holy ground,
Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone.
How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound!
While the mere victor's may appal or stun
The servile and the vain, such names will be
A watchword till the future shall be free.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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The Western

THOR draws a chord invisible
Across the shaking sky:
I hear the tearing of the shell,
The bullets sing and cry,
As, charging through the flames of hell,
The batteries go by.

The gunners laugh about the task,
That man to man has given:
Like Titans, now the guns unmask,
And fire the veils of heaven.
Above the cloud what lights are gleaming?
God's batteries are those,
Or souls of soldiers, homeward streaming
To banquet with their foes?
The floods of battle ebb and flow,
The soldiers to Valhalla go!

They say that, when the day awoke,
And the dying night was wan,
Harry of England rode the smoke,
And led the English van:
And bowmen in the battle-glare
Rose from the ghostly dew:
The clothyard sang upon the air,
And the grey goose-feather flew!
Harry of England is awake,
His archers mind not trench or stake !

And men have seen the Emperor,
The Eagle of the South:
God grant the bonds be loosed by Thor
That bind that marble mouth!
The silver roads of conquest lie
Fast frozen in his brow:
Would those imperious lips were free
To give their orders now!
The floods of battle ebb and flow,
The soldiers to Valhalla go!

Beyond the thunder of the guns,
Beyond the flaming line,
Far from this sky of echoing bronze,
The English valleys shine;
The gardens, moated in the wolds,
By wind and water kissed;
And dainty girls, that England folds
In sunshine and in mist.
The floods of battle ebb and flow,
The soldiers to Valhalla go!

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poem by Herbert Asquith
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The Campaign, A Poem, To His Grace The Duke Of Marlborough

While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim,
Proud in their number to enrol your name;
While emperors to you commit their cause,
And Anna's praises crown the vast applause;
Accept, great leader, what the Muse recites,
That in ambitious verse attempts your fights.
Fir'd and transported with a theme so new,
Ten thousand wonders opening to my view
Shine forth at once; sieges and storms appear,
And wars and conquests fill the' important year:

Rivers of blood I see, and hills of slain,
And Iliad rising out of one campaign.
The haughty Gaul beheld, with towering pride,
His ancient bounds enlarg'd on every side;
Pyrene's lofty barriers were subdued,
And in the midst of his wide empire stood;
Ausonia's states, the victor to restrain,
Opposed their Alps and Apennines in vain,
Nor found themselves, with strength of rocks immur'd,
Behind their everlasting hills secur'd;

The rising Danube its long race began,
And half its course through the new conquests ran;
Amaz'd and anxious for her soverign's fates,
Germania trembled through a hundred states;
Great Leopold himself was seiz'd with fear;
He gaz'd around, but saw no succour near;
He gaz'd, and half-abandon'd to despair.
His hopes on heaven, and confidence in pray;
To Britain's queen the nations turn their eyes,
On her resolves the western world relies,

Confiding still, amidst its dire alarms,
In Anna's conncils, and in Churchill's arms.
Thrice happy Britain, from the kingdoms rent,
To fit the guardian of the continent!
That sees her bravest son advanc'd so high,
And flourishing so near her prince's eye;
Thy favourites grow not up by fortune's sport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a court;
On the firm basis of desert they rise,
From long-try'd faith and friendship's holy tyes:

Their soverign's well-distinguish'd smiles they share,
Her ornaments in peace, her strength in war;
The nation thanks them with a public voice,
By showers of blessings heaven approves their choice;
Envy itself is dumb, in wonder lost,
And factions strive who shall applaud them most.

[...] Read more

poem by Joseph Addison
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Chevrolet Deluxe

I had a wife and kid, and I tried to settle down
I just wanted to live an honest life on the edge of an honest town.
But in the end they left me danglin danglin (in the night? )
And I went crazy tryin, tryin to walk that thin line.
Oh chevrolet deluxe, I bought you with all your accessories,
Oh chevrolet deluxe, I bought you with all your accessories,
But mister, I cant keep my payments up
I lie awake at night and wonder if Im tough enough
To win back the hand of chevrolet deluxe.
......
They shut the power off down at the mill (the count the third time? )
And these days when you ride down main street
Its just whitewashed windows and vacancy signs
Did you ever think til the end your kids you would never believe
That if you would leave this old town, that it would leave me.
My brothers down in ft bragg, been there for half a year
Man he just got into too much trouble around here.
Chevrolet deluxe, I bought her with all the accessories,
But mister, I cant keep those payments up
Chevrolet deluxe, I lost my heart, I lost my guts....
......
She was sittin down at highway chevrolet out on route 3
She was looking like she was waitin just for me
I worked all summer long and I saved my money up
And I went down and I put that money down
In the fall, billy, (...? )
I drove him down rode down together down to fort bragg
In the years that he was gone (...? )
(...? ) in the refinery (...? ) go along
Chevrolet deluxe, I bought her with all the accessories,
(...? )
Another year end gone, and billy he came home
(...? )
But it was like all of a sudden there was a curse
Things got band and things got worse
Hmmm... went the power there down at the mill
Hmmm... the thrill when they shut the power down at the mill
(...? )
Chevrolet deluxe, I bought her with all the accessories,
But I cant keep those payments up
Chevrolet deluxe
(...? ) you were so clear to see
Now when I wake in the mornging I dont know whats happening to me
Chevrolet deluxe, I bought her with all the accessories,
Mister I cant keep those payments up
Chevrolet deluxe you let me down took the heart right out of me
I saw her when I was 17 down at hansens chevrolet
I made up my mind to get her any how, any way.
That whole summer I worked until I had enough
Then I went and put my money down on that chevrolet deluxe.

[...] Read more

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Fifth

I
When amatory poets sing their loves
In liquid lines mellifluously bland,
And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves,
They little think what mischief is in hand;
The greater their success the worse it proves,
As Ovid's verse may give to understand;
Even Petrarch's self, if judged with due severity,
Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity.

II
I therefore do denounce all amorous writing,
Except in such a way as not to attract;
Plain -- simple -- short, and by no means inviting,
But with a moral to each error tack'd,
Form'd rather for instructing than delighting,
And with all passions in their turn attack'd;
Now, if my Pegasus should not be shod ill,
This poem will become a moral model.

III
The European with the Asian shore
Sprinkled with palaces; the ocean stream
Here and there studded with a seventy-four;
Sophia's cupola with golden gleam;
The cypress groves; Olympus high and hoar;
The twelve isles, and the more than I could dream,
Far less describe, present the very view
Which charm'd the charming Mary Montagu.

IV
I have a passion for the name of "Mary,"
For once it was a magic sound to me;
And still it half calls up the realms of fairy,
Where I beheld what never was to be;
All feelings changed, but this was last to vary,
A spell from which even yet I am not quite free:
But I grow sad -- and let a tale grow cold,
Which must not be pathetically told.

V
The wind swept down the Euxine, and the wave
Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades;
'T is a grand sight from off the Giant's Grave
To watch the progress of those rolling seas
Between the Bosphorus, as they lash and lave
Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease;
There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Fifth

When amatory poets sing their loves
In liquid lines mellifluously bland,
And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves,
They little think what mischief is in hand;
The greater their success the worse it proves,
As Ovid's verse may give to understand;
Even Petrarch's self, if judged with due severity,
Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity.

I therefore do denounce all amorous writing,
Except in such a way as not to attract;
Plain- simple- short, and by no means inviting,
But with a moral to each error tack'd,
Form'd rather for instructing than delighting,
And with all passions in their turn attack'd;
Now, if my Pegasus should not be shod ill,
This poem will become a moral model.

The European with the Asian shore
Sprinkled with palaces; the ocean stream
Here and there studded with a seventy-four;
Sophia's cupola with golden gleam;
The cypress groves; Olympus high and hoar;
The twelve isles, and the more than I could dream,
Far less describe, present the very view
Which charm'd the charming Mary Montagu.

I have a passion for the name of 'Mary,'
For once it was a magic sound to me;
And still it half calls up the realms of fairy,
Where I beheld what never was to be;
All feelings changed, but this was last to vary,
A spell from which even yet I am not quite free:
But I grow sad- and let a tale grow cold,
Which must not be pathetically told.

The wind swept down the Euxine, and the wave
Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades;
'T is a grand sight from off 'the Giant's Grave
To watch the progress of those rolling seas
Between the Bosphorus, as they lash and lave
Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease;
There 's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

'T was a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning,
When nights are equal, but not so the days;
The Parcae then cut short the further spinning
Of seamen's fates, and the loud tempests raise
The waters, and repentance for past sinning

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Hinduism

What is Hinduism?
A cluster of tribal customs and of gods,
As practised and worshiped by tribes
Together with the vedic worship.
It is an adulterated Vedic doctrine.
Tribal gods included,
Dravidian gods included,
Ram and Krishna included,
The Hinduism has no universal god.
Vedic influence is not in dominance.
Yet Vedic Brahmins have supremacy.
Lord Buddha, a vedic Kshatric, revolted
Against Vedic worship and was shadowed,
With no regret then and now.
Temples of Buddha were replaced
By the temples of Ram and Krishna.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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