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Everything I do, I do on the principle of Russian borscht. You can throw everything into it-beets, carrots, cabbage, onions, everything you want. What's important is the result, the taste of the borscht.

quote by Yevgeny Aleksandrovich Yevtushenko
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Russian Girl

Ive been frozen, now its so hot I can barely see
Ive been cutting them down so they cant make fun of me, yeah
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Young child sitting all alone
Hot child, she wants to take you home
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Russian girl, Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you

song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
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Throw It All Away

How could you
Just hurt me
And leave me
(leave me all alone)
How could you destroy my life
How could you throw it all away
What made you
Desert me and deceive me
Why did you just let me down
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw...
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
When I gave my all, baby
How could you throw it all away
And I gave my all
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
You destroyed my life, baby
How could you throw it all way
How could you
Just lead me
Into thinking
(thinking you would be there)
How could you destroy my heart
How could you throw it all away
I love you
Believe you
And I trusted you
(put all my trust in you)
How could you just let me down
How could you throw it all way
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Girl how could you
Throw it all away
How could you just take it all
How could you throw it all away
Oh how could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all
Throw it all away
When I gave my love
How could you throw it all away
I love you girl
You love me so
Where did we go wrong
I know that i
Gave my all to you

[...] Read more

song performed by 112
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thunderbolt

I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt staying bold.

I'm the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.

You may decide to run and hide.
But I've learned throughout my life...
Those who run let life slip by,
And cry in denial.
Setting themselves up...
For struggles and trials.

When I was young I was often hushed,
I would question too much.
With unedited questions asked.
To connect in my mind to grasp.

I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.

I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
And with a boldness I still hold.

When I was young I was often hushed,
I would question too much.
With unedited questions asked.
To connect in my mind to grasp.

Zip zap crack with answers due.
Answer my questions asked of you!

I'm the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.

Zip zap crack with answers due.
Answer my questions asked of you!
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Taste So Good

[intro]
Please play at low volume
Preferably, while having sex
Can I taste you, can I taste you
(yes, you can)
Can I taste your body, girl
(of course you can)
Can I taste you, can I taste you
I just cant wait to
Can I taste you, can I taste you
(of course you can)
Can I taste your body, girl
(yes, you can)
Can I taste you, can I taste you
(oh, dont stop, until I tell you to)
Oh, baby whatcha doing
Got me feining like this
I wanna go to your valley
I wanna taste your lips, oh yeah
Never understood it
All my homies say dont do it
But baby when I tried it
Girl I couldnt help but like it
You taste so good
Baby you taste so good
You know you do girl
You taste so good
Baby do you like it when I taste your love, yeah
You taste so good
Baby, you taste so good
You know that it tastes so good
You taste so good
So good to me, my baby
So good to me, yeah
Sweeter than candy
Making my tongue so happy, oh
Loving down your backside
Girl, wont you take me on a thigh ride
Well go home
We;ll go around when we bounce
Youre giving me so much
Just swing and make you bounce
Your love is so delicious
Baby, I can tell by the smile on your face
Ya dont mind
If I have another taste
You taste so good
Baby, you taste so good
You taste so good
I cant get over this taste I found

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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Temporary Poem Of My Time

Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west,
Latin writing, from west to east.
Languages are like cats:
You must not stroke their hair the wrong way.
The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert,
The trees bend in the wind,
And stones fly from all four winds,
Into all four winds. They throw stones,
Throw this land, one at the other,
But the land always falls back to the land.
They throw the land, want to get rid of it.
Its stones, its soil, but you can't get rid of it.
They throw stones, throw stones at me
In 1936, 1938, 1948, 1988,
Semites throw at Semites and anti-Semites at anti-Semites,
Evil men throw and just men throw,
Sinners throw and tempters throw,
Geologists throw and theologists throw,
Archaelogists throw and archhooligans throw,
Kidneys throw stones and gall bladders throw,
Head stones and forehead stones and the heart of a stone,
Stones shaped like a screaming mouth
And stones fitting your eyes
Like a pair of glasses,
The past throws stones at the future,
And all of them fall on the present.
Weeping stones and laughing gravel stones,
Even God in the Bible threw stones,
Even the Urim and Tumim were thrown
And got stuck in the beastplate of justice,
And Herod threw stones and what came out was a Temple.

Oh, the poem of stone sadness
Oh, the poem thrown on the stones
Oh, the poem of thrown stones.
Is there in this land
A stone that was never thrown
And never built and never overturned
And never uncovered and never discovered
And never screamed from a wall and never discarded by the builders
And never closed on top of a grave and never lay under lovers
And never turned into a cornerstone?

Please do not throw any more stones,
You are moving the land,
The holy, whole, open land,
You are moving it to the sea
And the sea doesn't want it
The sea says, not in me.

[...] Read more

poem by Yehuda Amichai
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Tastes So Good

Please play at low volume
Preferably while havin sex
can i taste you can i taste you
(yes you can)
Can i taste your body girl
(of course you can)
Can i taste you can i taste you
I just cant wait to
Can i taste you can i taste you
( of course you can)
Can i taste your body Girl
(yes you can)
can i taste you can i taste you
( oh dont stop until i tell you to)
Oh baby whatcha doin
got me feining like this
I wanna go to your valley
I wanna taste your lips oh yeah
Never understood it
All my homies say dont do it
But baby when i tried it
Girl i couldnt help but like it
You taste so good
baby you tase so good
you know you do girl
you taste so good
Baby do you like it when i taste your love yeah
you taste so good
Baby you taste so good
you know that it tastes so good
you taste so good
so good to me my baby
so good to me yeah
Sweeter than candy
makin my tongue so happy oh
Lovin down your backside
Girl wont you take me on a thigh ride
we'll go home
we'll go areound when we bounce
your givin me so much
just swing and make you bounce
your love is so delicious
baby i can tell by the smile on your face
ya dont mind
if i have another taste
You taste so good
baby you taste so good
you taste so good
I cant get over this taste i found
when i go downtown down

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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Russian Roulette

Take it or leave it Ive heard it been said
All this spring fevers just way over my head
Stealing my moments, taking up all my time
Its playing russian roulette with my mind
Its none of my business baby just whats going on
Im not going to wait till somebody throw me a bone
Im way out on a limb now, and nothing seems to rhyme
Its playing russian roulette with my mind
I think that youve caught on, that youve been used and all
Im going down new orleans, Ive got to see dr. john
Got my mojo working everything will be fine
Stop playing russian roulette with my mind
Its not easy baby when everything starts getting out of control
Hang on your hat now, hang on to your soul
Dont worry baby, I wanna throw you the line
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
Too many hustlers, Ive been here before
None of them really know just who that you are
Everything gets contracted and space gets confined
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song of the Little White Girl

Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, what is the matter?
Why are you shaking so? Why do you chatter?
Because it is just a white baby you see,
And it's the black ones you like, cabbage tree?

Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, you're a strange fellow
With your green hair and your legs browny-yellow.
Wouldn't you like to have curls, dear, like me?
What! No one to make them? O poor cabbage tree!

Never mind, cabbage tree, when I am taller,
And if you grow, please, a little bit smaller,
I shall be able by that time, bay be,
To make you the loveliest curls, cabbage tree.

poem by Katherine Mansfield
Added by Poetry Lover
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Pleasure Principle

THE PLEASURE PRINCIPLE
Janet Jackson
Album: Control
You might think I'm crazy but I'm serious
It's better you know now
What I thought was happiness
Was only part-time bliss
You can take a bow
It was all just one big night out on the town
Riding in your limousine
We turned right, then I said wrong
Which brings us to a stop
As the light is changing
Oh my meter's running so I got to go, now
CHORUS:
It's the pleasure principle, oh-oh oh-oh oh-oh
It's the principle of pleasure, oh-oh
It's the pleasure principle, oh-oh oh-oh oh-oh
It's true you want to build your life on guarantees
Hey take a ride in a big yellow taxi
I'm not here to feed your insecurities
I wanted you to love me
This has become an all too familiar scene
It's not the first time I've paid the fare
Where'd you get the idea of material possession?
Thank you for the ride nowhere
And oh my meter's running, so I really have to go
CHORUS
I know what you mean to me
Baby this is nowhere
You what became between you and me
Human differential
It's the principle of pleasure oh-oh oh oh oh
It's the pleasure principle, principle
oh ohhhh ohhhh oh
You might say that I'm no good
I wouldn't trust your looks, baby if I could
I got too many things I wanna do before I'm through
It's the pleasure principle, it's the pleasure principle
It's the pleasure principle
Baby you can hold me down, baby you can hold me down
After all the love that we've been through
After all you put me through
Love me, love me
It's the pleasure principle
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

song performed by Janet Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Loving That Taste For The Gutter

If they always call those they visit trash,
And on a daily basis they are around them.
What do they regard themselves?
Trash collectors?
Or recycled garbage...
Loving that taste for the gutter.

They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
No matter what they call it they want it like that!
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
They love that taste for the gutter.

Whenever its suspected someone else will attack,
They will defend their trash with a coming back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Yes they love that taste for the gutter.

They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
No matter what they call it they want it like that!
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
They love that taste for the gutter.

If they always call those they visit trash,
And on a daily basis they are around them.
What do they regard themselves?
Trash collectors?
Garbage defenders?

Whenever its suspected someone else will attack,
They will defend their trash with a coming back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Yes they love that taste for the gutter.

Garbage defenders,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
Trash collectors,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont admit or quit,
Loving that taste for the gutter.

They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Garbage defenders,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
Trash collectors,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont admit or quit,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Mostly Slavonic

I.—
Peter Michaelov

It was Peter the Barbarian put an apron in his bag
And rolled up the honoured bundle that Australians call a swag;
And he tramped from Darkest Russia, that it might be dark no more,
Dreaming of a port, and shipping, as no monarch dreamed before.
Of a home, and education, and of children staunch and true,
Like my father in the fifties—and his name was Peter, too.
(He could build a ship—or fiddle, out of wood, or bark, or hide—.
Sail one round the world and play the other one at eventide.)

Russia’s Peter (not my father) went to Holland in disguise,
Where he laboured as a shipwright underneath those gloomy skies;
Later on he went to England (which the Kaiser now—condemns)
Where he studied as a ship-smith by old Deptford on the Thames—
And no doubt he knew the rope-walk—(and the rope’s end too, he knew)—
Learned to build a ship and sail it—learned the business through and through.
And I’d like to say my father mastered navigation too.
(He was born across in Norway, educated fairly well,
And he grafted in a ship-yard by the Port of Arundel.)

“Peter Michaelov” (not Larsen) his work was by no means done;
For he learned to make a ploughshare, and he learned to make a gun.
Russian soldiers must have clothing, so he laboured at the looms,
And he studied, after hours, building forts and building booms.
He would talk with all and sundry, merchants and adventurers—
Whaling men from Nova Scotia, and with ancient mariners.
Studied military systems (of which Austria’s was the best).
Hospitals and even bedlams—class distinctions and the rest.

There was nothing he neglected that was useful to be known—
And he even studied Wowsers, who had no creed of his own.
And, lest all that he accomplished should as miracles appear,
It must always be remembered he’d a secret Fund for Beer.
When he tramped to toil and exile he was only twenty-five,
With a greater, grander object than had any man alive.
And perhaps the lad was bullied, and was sad for all we know—
Though it isn’t very likely that he’d take a second blow.
He had brains amongst the brainless, and, what that thing means I knew,
For before I found my kingdom, I had slaved in workshops too.

But they never dreamed, the brainless, boors that used to sneer and scoff,
That the dreamy lad beside them—known as “Dutchy Mickyloff”—
Was a genius and a poet, and a Man—no matter which—
Was the Czar of all the Russias!—Peter Michaelovich.

Sweden struck ere he was ready—filled the land with blood and tears—
But he broke the power of Sweden though it took him nine long years.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Grammar Lesson

A noun's a thing. A verb's the thing it does.
An adjective is what describes the noun.
In "The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz"

of and with are prepositions. The's
an article, a can's a noun,
a noun's a thing. A verb's the thing it does.

A can can roll - or not. What isn't was
or might be, might meaning not yet known.
"Our can of beets is filled with purple fuzz"

is present tense. While words like our and us
are pronouns - i.e. it is moldy, they are icky brown.
A noun's a thing; a verb's the thing it does.

Is is a helping verb. It helps because
filled isn't a full verb. Can's what our owns
in "Our can of beets is filled with purple fuzz."

See? There's almost nothing to it. Just
memorize these rules...or write them down!
A noun's a thing, a verb's the thing it does.
The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz.

poem by Steve Kowit
Added by Poetry Lover
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Throw Your Hands Up

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,90 aaliyahs in the house so check,check it out
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,90 aaliyahs in the house so check,check it out
The time has finally come to save my beats with the funky hip hop swing
(the funky swing I might add) oh check it
No holding back now is the time, to get busy
So take me to the bridge
I work hard for mine, spending all my time
To give you what you need
So if you down with this funky flavor thorw your hands up
And if you got fever for aaliyah throw your hands up
And if you down with blackground thorw your hands up
And if it got soul let me see your hands up
If you got bass in your jeeps thorw your hands up
If your not down with the crack thorw your hands up
And if you think your hyper enough to swing it thorw your hands up
And if your down with the second chapter thorw your hands up
Straight from the streets is where Im coming from (sraight out the streets)
With the touch of jazz in me, check it
Take in no shorts when it comes down to shows
I got to reck it, so take me to the bridge
I work hard for mine spending all my time
To give what you need
Where you at, where you at
So if your down with the pa let me see your hands up
And if your head is bobin to the track throw your hands up
And if you got loot in your pocket throw your hands up
And if you not foul let me see your hands up
And if your protected and you know it throw your hands up
And if r kellys record is sharp let me see your hands up
And if your body swing to the track throw your hands up
And if you want some more of the flover throw your hands up
Uh,uh,uh yeah,yeah
Aaliyah bust a free style
This is for the jeeps
Strictly for the jeeps
This is for the jeeps
(repeat)
So if your down with the funky flover thorw your hands up
And if you got the fever for aaliyah throw your hands up
And if you down with blackground throw your hands up
And if you got bass in your jeeps throw your hands up
If your not down with the crack throw your hands up
And if you think your hyper enough to swing it throw your hands up
And if your down with the second chapter throw your hands up
So if your down with the pa let me see your hands up
And if your head is bobin to the track throw your hands up
And if you got loot in your pocket throw your hands up
And if you not foul let me see your hands up
And if your protected and you know it throw your hands up
And if r kellys record is sharp let me see your hands up

[...] Read more

song performed by Aaliyah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shattered Image

I used to sit for hours as a kid
And dangle my feet from an old flat bridge
Seeing myself in the water below
Shatter my image with the rocks Id throw
Shatter my image with the rocks Id throw
Long time gone and a long time ago
When I shattered my image with the rocks Id throw
The world is cruel and people are cold
Now they shatter my image with the rocks they throw
Shatter my image with the rocks they throw
Im far from perfect but I aint all bad
And it hurts me more than it makes me mad
We all do things that we dont want told
And we all throw stones that we shouldnt throw
You shatter my image with the rocks you throw
Long time gone and a long time ago
When I shattered my image with the rocks Id throw
The world is cruel and people are cold
Now they shatter my image with the rocks they throw
Shatter my image with the rocks they throw
If you live in a glass house dont throw stones
Dont shatter my image til you look at your own
Look at your reflection in your house of glass
Dont open my closet if your owns full of trash
Stay out of my closet if your owns full of trash
Long time gone and a long time ago
When I shattered my image with the rocks Id throw
The world is cruel and people are cold
Now they shatter my image with the rocks they throw
Shatter my image with the rocks they throw
Shatter my image with the rocks you throw
Dont shatter my image with the rocks you throw

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Throw Them Back To The Wolves

Throw them back to the wolves.
The ones released from cellblock envy.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who love their crime defined.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who break laws all the time.
With nothing but 'bling' on their minds.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Trouble makers showing butt.
Groom to believe they should give it up.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Victims of their own disguises.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Raised on 'rap' and packing 'heat'.
Dimmed with wit is their destiny...
This was how they were raised to be.

Detoxed and recovered.
From baubles, beads and bangles hanging.
Some don't want to have another...
Victimizing chain of gold,
To prove to anyone they're bold.

Leaving streets to the others.
Those who choose to do their 'thing'
From swagger punted schoolyard swings...
And learning from demented idols.
Who could care less who is destressed.

Throw them back to the wolves.
The ones released from cellblock envy.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who love their crime defined.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who break laws all the time.
With nothing but 'bling' on their minds.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Trouble makers showing butt.
Groom to believe they should give it up.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Victims of their own disguises.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Raised on 'rap' and packing 'heat'.
Dimmed with wit is their destiny...
This was how they were raised to be.

Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo doo boo doo boo boo doo.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo boo doo boo do boo do!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reply to the Above, by F.W.F.

"Te quoque vatem dicunt pastores."—VIRGIL.

O Maxwell, if by reason’s strength
And studying of Babbage,
You have transformed yourself at length
Into a mental cabbage;
And if I've proved myself a lark
At morn and blushing even,
By soaring like a music-spark
Thro’ sapphire fields of Heaven,

Our diverse fates are now reversed
By strange metempsychosis,
Into a cabbage I have burst
And scorn poetic posies;
But you a lark with twinkling wings
O’er violet-banks are soaring;
Your voice the dewy rose-cloud rings
While Statics me are boring.

Yet cabbage as I will—on earth
My roots I cannot anchor,
For at my mathematic birth
Was also born a canker!
It soon will gnaw my roots away-—
But when I weigh a chœnix
I’ll freely soar to realms of day
An emerald cabbage-Phœnix.

Then talk not of the Poll to me,
I hate, detest, and scorn it;
I am as earnest as a bee,
But savage as a hornet.
And if they pluck me I will drown
Each pedant in a sonnet,
And of their pluckings make a crown
With golden plumes upon it.

So if my cabbage growth be slow
I'll try to be a carrot,
Or still remain a lark—but know
I'll not be Poll, or Parrot.
Then if I fall beneath the mark,
I’ll shout with accent savage,
"It is a lark to be a lark,
’Tis green to be a cabbage"

poem by James Clerk Maxwell
Added by Poetry Lover
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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)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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
Added by Poetry Lover
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Eternal Eden

Under a splendid sky of orange and grey,
Awakened a dawn as lovely as the foremost day,
And there beneath the rainbow and blueberry hills,
More beautiful than a proud peacock’s quills,
A place called Eden with endless delights,
A lush garden by day with Arcadian nights.

The Creator is the only sovereign in this land,
On every hill and valley, you can see God’s hand.
He’s loved and praised with every creature’s breath,
For by His grace, we know not the sting of death.
There are many flower blooms to brighten all life.
The birds melodious songs soothe away strife.

There’s food for the stomach and thrills for the eye,
For all God’s creatures of land, water, and sky.
We have leaves for the butterfly and nectar for the bee,
And berries for the springbok and still plenty fruit for me.
The hippo has plenty green grass with grasshoppers for the snake,
And as many fat rabbits as the hungry lion can take.

We’ve got figs aloft left for the giraffe,
And honey for the bear that compels her to laugh.
The games we play in Eden keep our fervor rare,
Like shooting baskets with cabbage and tossing parsnips in the air,
Rolling lettuce into the cellar and turnips into the pot,
Squeezing tomatoes to make them sweet whether folly or not.

Don’t worry about the reverend, she outmatches the moon,
And dances in the garden with dessert and a spoon.
She’s chest-high in the berries and dressed only with a beam.
I sure hope God wants her to allow me a little ice cream.
‘Cause she’s a sensation for human vision, she has a vision too,
The preacher sees the Word in the air and inherent in the dew.

In my deepest inmost part, I feel life’s power surge.
God’s omnipresence warms and bids my moods to merge.
I love to watch the sun ascend to its cloudy throne,
And I listen to the sparrows sing in a respectful tone.
The birds of heaven now in place, wearing feathered robes aglow,
Harmonize with a melodious breeze that began to blow a billion years ago.

Grapes ripen and grow sweeter from vine to carafe
And await the pleasure of immortal lips that pucker and laugh.
Here our hearts are light as a leaf on an apple tree,
‘Cause every wish and desire and dream is crowned with victory.
In this region called Eden, life’s eternal green spring,
Rivers flow gently in majesty and God’s praises sparrows sing.

Along beside the trees good for food and pleasant to the sight,

[...] Read more

poem by Albert Price
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I Throw My Toys Around

Ive got no time for fairy stories
Im not a little girl
So you can leave me all alone
And turn off the lights as well
If you are frightened
Then listen
But I dont think youd like it
Such a nice kid
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
Somebodys being very bad
I wonder who it can be
Somebodys gonna get in trouble
I know it isnt me
Im just a little angel
But you dont know what Ive done
When your backs turned
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
Pick up those building blocks
Chop off the babys locks
Swing dolly by the hair
Put down that teddy bear
Slam dunk a happy clown
I throw my toys around
Ive got no time for bedtime stories
Im not a little child
Everything makes me furious
And everything makes me wild
If you are frightened then whistle
And Ill come running you
As you boo hoo
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around

song performed by No Doubt
Added by Lucian Velea
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