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Votes should be weighed not counted.

quote by Friedrich Schiller
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I Counted On Love

Morse, Walsh)
-----------------
I'm hangin on, 'cause I hate letting go (I hate letting go)
I'm not that strong, but you already know how I hate letting go
We believed that dreams came true, now that picture's torn in two
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I counted on love
Some great defender, is that what you need? To heal not to bleed
Some great pretender shouting
"SET YOURSELF FREE- SET YOURSELF FREE"
Why do memories have to be like a lock without a key?
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I was flying oh so high
Now I'm trying not to cry
I was trying, but I'm dying, 'cause I hate letting go
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I counted on love
I counted on you

song performed by Kansas
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Stealing Babies (feat. Elvin Jones)

I'm teething on the answers you're saving
How are you going to make me sleep again?
Well I'm dreaming while you're stealing babies
When you gonna make me understand?
Why?
How should I say "I'm so sorry!"
How should I pray, to know that we're alive
Eve stands alone
By the knock on the Door
By the thin in her bones
She's courageous and loving
Exhausted and cold
She's not ready to go
But the ghost on the phone
Helps her safely into her dream
You're leaving pieces of family
How you gonna help them understand
Well I'm screaming
While you're stealing babies
Why you wanna knock us down again?
Why?
How should I say "I'm so sorry!"
How should we pray, to make us feel alive?
Eve stands alone
By the knock
On the door
By the thin in her bones
She's courageous and loving
Exhausted and cold
She's not ready to go
So the ghost on the phone
Helps her safely into her dream
It must be our egos
It must be my lack
Of faith that it might not come back
It must be our egos
It must be my lack
Of faith that it might not come back
I've been weighed down again
I'm weighed down again
I've been weighed down again
I'm weighed down...
Weighed down...
Weighed down...
Weighed down...
Down...
Down...
Down

song performed by Our Lady Peace
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Git-Yer-Gun

Thus it happened .... Let me mention, lest I raise an unsought quarrel,
This occurred in times long vanished, in the land of Git-yer-gun.
'Tis a quaint, unlikely story; some folk say it has a moral;
But that's a little matter you may settle when I'm done.

Mr. Foodle led a party that was strongly democratic,
And it represented people with the Christian name of Bill.
And in all his hustings speeches Mr. Foodle was emphatic
That his crowd existed solely to uphold the people's will.

Mr. Boodle led a party that was Liberal - or Tory
(Just according to your view-point) - and it represented those
Christened (by immersion) Percy, whose hot socks proclaimed their glory;
And its policy was such as you may readily supose.

So they strove in an election .... (Now, I wish it noted plainly
That this happened years ago, and in the land of Git-yer-gun) ....
And each side employed its talent to upbraid the other mainly,
While the voters cheered them madly, and the crowd enjoyed the fun.

The Democratic Party (Bill by name) supported Foodle
For such was the convention with this quaint old Party Plan
While the Tories fought like fury to promote the cause of Boodle,
And, of course, the crowd named Percy voted for him to a man.

And the others of the nation - all the Johns and Jeremiahs,
All the Peters, Pauls and Paddys, all the Colins and Carews,
All the Richards and the Roberts, and the Hanks and Hezekiahs
Voted for some bloque or other, each according to his views.

Then they counted up the numbers, when at last the fight was over,
And both Democrats and Tories - Bills and Percys - looked quite sour
When the numbers showed them clearly neither party stood in clover;
For a few odd Independents held the balance of the power.

Mr. Foodle called his Caucus .... And he put it to them plainly:
'Never mind the Bills,' said Foodle; 'we have got them in the box.
If we would escape extinction 'tis our plan to pander mainly
But with caution - to the Percys and the cause of fancy socks.

'For,' said Mr. Foodle gravely, 'understand me, votes are needed!
How to catch and how to keep them is the question of the hour.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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First Past The Post System Feb 10th,2011

First-past-the-post system ensures that the winners indeed know the score,
Because the collected votes of the others combined are much more,
And then add that proportional representation is banned,
Some constituents don’t vote because they feel the outcome is canned.

Because their votes are meaningless in the mishmash of numbers,
First-past-the-post ensures that the majority are outnumbered,
And no one seems interested in fixing this problem,
They are too busy talking or waving some flag or some emblem.

It is not an election task that is easily explained,
Number one has ten votes more than number two and twelve more than three,
So two and three combined have much more votes than number one,
Number one always wins and majority loose and this is not fun.

Feb 10th,2011

poem by James Bredin
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The Crusader Against Corruption

The politicians are mindless
about the opprobrium heaped on them
for their misdeeds and corruption.
Politics is an open-sesame
to criminals and the cunning
for fulfilling their ambitions.
An overdose of bribes has made
public life servile and squalid.

When the courts order to attach their wealth
and detain them in prison, they make a fun of it.
' God has already ordered a one-two punch to me
to give my wealth to the poor
and go to jail for a public cause', they say.
The votes of people with nous
don't decide the winners in these obscene elections.
The votes of the illiterates and the votes
clicked in stealth choose the victors.

When the government is gripped in the hands
of the opportunists of parties one after the other,
the rich buy the posts of officers in hidden auctions.
The middle class bargain for clerical jobs.
The sons of the poor join the gangsters and smugglers
who run a parallel government, colluding with
the politicians who live for uplifting the poor.
The poor women need to trade in open market or the nets.

The people are ossified to stretch hands
to grab the freebies and graft, and sell their votes.
Ouch! why this Anna Hazare, the last surviving crusader,
goes on an outdated fast dreaming for a change?
He can't provoke a public outcry against corruption
with the outfits of graduates and tottering old men.
Will his message reach the illiterate ocean in rural hamlets
when the T.V. channels are owned by the demagogues?

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Bridge Across the Crick

Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking
Strove in an election fight;
And you'd think, to hear them talking,
Each upheld the people's right.
Each declared he stood for Progress and against his country's foes
When he sought their votes at Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.

Peter Dawking, scorning party,
As an Independent ran;
Joseph Jones, loud, blatant, hearty,
Was a solid party man.
But the electors up at Wombat vowed to him alone they'd stick
Who would give his sacred promise for the 'bridge across the crick'.

Bland, unfaithful politicians
Long had said this bridge should be.
Some soared on to high positions,
Some sank to obscurity;
Still the bridge had been denied it by its unrelenting foes -
By the foes of patient Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.

Up at Wombat Peter Dawking
Held a meeting in the hall,
And he'd spent an hour in talking
On the far-flung Empire's Call,
When a local greybeard, rising, smote him with this verbal brick:
'Are or are yeh not in favour of the bridge across the crick?'

Peter just ignored the question,
Proudly patriotic man;
Understand a mean suggestion
Men like Peter never can,
Or that free enlightened voters look on all Great Things as rot,
While a Burning Local Question fires each local patriot.

Joseph Jones, serene and smiling,
Took all Wombat to his heart.
'Ah,' he said, his 'blood was b'iling'
He declared it 'made him smart'
To reflect how they'd been swindled; and he cried in ringing tones
'Gentlemen, your bridge is certain if you cast your votes for Jones!'

Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking
Strove in an election fight,
And, when they had finished talking,
On the great election night
They stood level in the voting, and the hope of friends and foes
Hung upon the box from Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.

Then the Wombat votes were counted;

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Florida Supreme Court wanted all the legal votes to be counted. The United States Supreme Court, on the other hand, did not want all the votes to be counted.

quote by Vincent Bugliosi
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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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To be pitiably old

Besides parents and grand parents,
Aunts and uncles were counted on.
Besides father and mother,
Nephews and nieces were counted on.
Besides brothers and sisters,
Sons and daughters were counted on.
Then their children were contemplated on.
I count days, with no more to be counted on.
20.10.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sacred Election

Sacred
sacred right,
the right to vote.

Sacred
sacred right
to be elected.

The people's votes are tallied
The best choice is declared.

Let no one manipulate the result
Let no one tamper the votes
Let no one buy people's votes
and strip the voters
their sacred right to choose.

Let this election
truly reflect
people's sacred rights.

___________________
November 6,2012

poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Hillary Clinton Poem - Hard Luck First Lady

hard luck madam first lady
the way the polls go

it is easier to be first lady
than Mr President

the world is singing another
tune to the White House

hard luck madam first lady
the way the polls go

the votes are out but you've
made no headway

the votes are out but you've
not made any headway

shall we just call it a day
or go into another day
to see the votes go away

the race will soon be up
and they are going to call us up

the race will soon be up
and they are going to call us up

to declare us null and void
to declare us null and void

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I am born to win

I am born to be the President
of my village where my caste dominates.
I have men to plan ahead and delete
the names of dissidents from the voters’ list.
If the people of minor castes seem to vote for me,
their names will be found in the corrected list
or else they will vanish. Thanks to the VAO.
Some hamlets denying votes to me will be added
to the Voters’ list of the nearby Panchayat.

I am fit to be an MLA
for I have loyal workers
to throw stones on the processions,
of my rivals in politics
and bribe the reporters to write
that people chased away my rival everywhere.
My hooligans will hack the volunteers
of my opponent who dare to defy me.
They will set ablaze the huts
which refuse to hang my photo on the wall.
Polling will end well with the grace of God
with a few hundred bogus votes
which my minions arrange to cast.
There will not be poor voter turn out,
for my men will press the button again and again
to swell the votes in the ballot unit.

Sometimes a massive wave helps me
to be an MLA with folded hands,
when a popular leader dies.
Sometimes I will cause ripples of sympathy
by sacrificing my honest worker.

Before the election, money slips out
of my micro inner pocket
and my cheap chappals get worn out.
But in the aftermath of the election
bags and suitcases in full
walk into my house before I wake up.
People’s boundless love baffles me!
Vendors of vegetables, fish and mutton
send their usual quota which knock
even on the doors of my neighbours.
How much can I put into this liquor –filled belly!
I’ m very friendly with my neighbours
for they will save me when my enemies
hunt me down with choppers and swords.
In daylight the learned men throng my house
but in the dark, seek my help the VIPS whom
people call rowdies and anti-socials.

[...] Read more

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The votes of 60,000 Floridians were not counted. The Court threw out all 60,00 votes. And that's what the newspapers around the country are counting now.

quote by Vincent Bugliosi
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Weighing The Baby

"How many pounds does baby weigh -
Baby who came but a month ago?
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe?"

Grandfather ties the 'kerchief knot,
Tenderly guides the swinging weight,
And carefully over his glasses peers
To read the record, "only eight."

Softly the echo goes around:
The father laughs at the tiny girl;
The fair young mother sings the words,
While grandmother smooths the golden curl.

And stooping above the precious thing,
Nestles a kiss within a prayer,
Murmuring softly "Little one,
Grandfather did not weigh you fair."

Nobody weighed the baby's smile,
Or the love that came with the helpless one;
Nobody weighed the threads of care,
From which a woman's life is spun.

No index tells the mighty worth
Of a little baby's quiet breath -
A soft, unceasing metronome,
Patient and faithful until death.

Nobody weighed the baby's soul,
For here on earth no weights there be
That could avail; God only knows
Its value in eternity.

Only eight pounds to hold a soul
That seeks no angel's silver wing,
But shrines it in this human guise,
Within so frail and small a thing!

Oh, mother! laugh your merry note,
Be gay and glad, but don't forget
From baby's eyes looks out a soul
That claims a home in Eden yet.

poem by Ethel Lynn Beers from The Home Book of Verse, American and English (1912)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Orlando Furioso Canto 9

ARGUMENT
So far Orlando wends, he comes to where
He of old Proteus' hears the cruel use
But feels such pity for Olympia fair,
Wronged by Cymosco, who in prison mews
Her plighted spouse, that ere he makes repair
Further, he gives her hope to venge the abuse:
He does so, and departs; and with his spouse
Departs Bireno, to repeat his vows.

I
What cannot, when he has a heart possess'd
This false and cruel traitor Love? since he
Can banish from Orlando's faithful breast
Such tried allegiance and due loyalty?
Wise, full of all regards, and of the blest
And glorious church the champion wont to be,
Now, little for himself or uncle, driven
By a vain love, he cares, and less for heaven.

II
But I excuse him well, rejoiced to know
I have like partner in my vice: for still
To seek my good I too am faint and slow,
But sound and nimble in pursuit of ill.
The count departs, disguised in sable show,
Nor for so many friends, with froward will,
Deserted cares; and comes where on the plain
Are camped the hosts of Afric and of Spain;

III
Rather uncamped: for, in less troops or more,
Rains under shed and tree had driven the band.
Here ten, there twenty, seven or eight, or four,
Near or further off, Orlando scanned.
Each sleeps, oppressed with toil and wearied sore;
This stretched on earth, that propped upon his hand:
They sleep, and many might the count have slain,
Yet never bared his puissant Durindane.

IV
So generous is Orlando's heart, he base
Esteems it were to smite a sleeping foe.
Now this he seeks, and now that other place;
Yet cannot track his lady, high or low.
If he finds any one in waking case,
Sighing, to him he paints her form and show;
Then prays him that for courtesy, he where
The damsel is, will reach him to repair.

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Buicks To The Moon

(alan jackson/jim mcbride)
How long will I love you
I dont really know
Id like to think forever
Is how far we could go so let me paint a picture
Of how its gonna be
The day you dont mean everything to me
When a nickels worth a dollar
And gold aint worth a dime
When they build a ship
On waters that will take you back in time
When the stars have all been counted
And I stop lovin you
Honey theyll be driving
Buicks to the moon
Now you dont have to worry
About what comes to pass
This old world may wear out
But my loves gonna last
If they ever build that highway to the moon
Ill just fond somethin else to promise you
When a nickels worth a dollar
And gold aint worth a dime
When they build a ship
On waters that will take you back in time
When the stars have all been counted
And I stop lovin you
Honey theyll be driving
Buicks to the moon
Oh when the stars have all been counted
And I stop lovin you
Honey theyll be drivin
Buicks to the moon

song performed by Alan Jackson
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We Stand Together

(n. rodgers/g. smith)
Stand up, stand tall, and be counted
Divided we fall, together we stand, together
Our love has all never doubt it
Alone we fall, together we stand, together
When were playin the game of life
What we pay is a heavy price
If you choose the wrong path
You will lose, thats so right
Be prepared, you might have to make some sacrifice
I can feel we can make it
I believe, when theres no longer seperation, well succeed
Heres a chance, better take it
Time wont wait for us, everyone come on
Stand up, stand tall, and be counted
Divided we fall, together we stand, together
Our love has all never doubt it
Alone we fall, together we stand, together
Im afraid we will never learn
Thats why Im sayin Im so concerned
Turn around and look, this court is adjourned
Before we get beyond the point of no return
Leave us not be forsaken
Let me speak my peace
The pen is mightier than the sword, or so it seems
Heres a chance, better take it
Time wont wait for us, everyone come on
Stand up, stand tall, and be counted
Divided we fall, together we stand, together
Our love has all never doubt it
Alone we fall, together we stand, together
On the stage of a theatre
A production of all the feelings
That were feeling all surrounding us
In the words of a playwright
One is not enough
To experience the act called love
Called trust-called love-called trust

song performed by Diana Ross
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Soul

Hang out my window and over your head
Stare at your feelings to see where they end
Youre waiting here for someone else to break you from the inside
Youve been so composed
[chorus]
We all know theres always something tearing you apart
Its always so much longer than you counted on
And it hits you so much harder then you thought
But you dont worry, you dont worry
Cause youve got soul
Youre so heavy, youre so misunderstood
And I spent all my wishes wishing times were good
When I still could
Wait around here for someone else to take me past the good side
Youve been here so longer
[chorus]
We all know theres always something tearing you apart
Its always so much longer than you counted on
And it hits you so much harder then you thought
But you dont worry, you dont worry
Cause darling, youve got so much soul
Darling, youve got so much soul
[chorus]
Well, theres always something tearing you apart
Its always so much longer than you counted on
And it hits you so much harder then you thought
Then you ever thought it would
But you dont worry, and you dont worry
Cause you dont worry, you dont worry
Cause you dont worry, you dont worry
Cause youve got soul

song performed by Matchbox Twenty
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The Best Years Of Our Lives

Hey, listen to the working man
And can you hear the dream
That resides in his soul?
And when you hear that poor man singin'
Can you hear a story
That cries to be told?
Wanna hear you say "Oh yeah"
I need to hear you say "Oh yeah"
It's time to stand up and be counted
These are the days of our beginnings
This ain't the time for the faint of heart
No don't wanna lose
The chance we are given
These are the best years of our lives
The very best years of our lives
Oh yeah, hear the song of womankind
Carried 'til she ached
Now she's takin' her stand
Says she's got the right to be
Right beside and equal with ev'ry man
Wanna hear you say "Oh yeah"
Need to hear you say "Oh yeah"
It's time to stand up and be counted
These are the days of our beginnings
This ain't the time for the faint of heart
No don't wanna lose
The chance we're given
These are the best years of our lives
The very best years of our lives
Say "oh yeah"
(organ solo)
(guitar solo)
Say it now, and just say it right
If you truly believe it,
You'll be saying it right.
So say "oh yeah"
Gotta say "oh yeah"
It's time to stand up and be counted
Better days are just beginning.
There ain't no place to run and hide to
Don't throw away
The chance we're given.
These are the best years of our lives
The very best years of our lives
Say "Oh yeah"
"Oh yeah"
Say "Oh yeah"
Say "Oh yeah"
These are the best years of our lives
Lyrics Provided by Michael Hack

song performed by Neil Diamond
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Brand New Day

Words and music by sting
How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair
And how many times do you swear that youll never love again?
How many lonely, sleepless nights
How many lies, how many fights
And why would you want to put yourself through all that again?
love is pain, I hear you say
Love has a cruel and bitter way
Of paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain
How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again
One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
You could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet
But that same old smile that youve been thinking of all day
You can turn the clock to zero, honey
Ill sell the stock, well spend all the money
Were starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if shell take me back
Im thinking in a brand new way
Turn the clock to zero, sister
Youll never know how much I missed her
Starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, boss
The rivers wide, well swim across
Started up a brand new day
It could happen to you - just like it happened to me
Theres simply no immunity - theres no guarantee
I say loves such a force - if you find yourself in it
And sometimes no reflection is there
Baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Turn the clock to zero, honey
Ill sell the stock, well spend all the money
Were starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, mac
Im begging her to take me back
Im thinking in a brand new way
Turn the clock to zero, boss
The rivers wide, well swim across
Started up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero buddy
Dont wanna be no fuddy duddy

[...] Read more

song performed by Sting
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