The opportunity to record the song came when Phil Collins' record label, Atlantic, was doing a tribute album to him and they asked all these different artists to do renditions of his songs.
quote by Deborah Cox
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Two Different Worlds
You know I dont understand why you treat me like this
Its almost like you feel like youre from two different worlds
well, we are todd I dont think so
You should have a listen to me right now
I can feel it now baby I can feel it now, I can feel that
Even though youre a queen and Im only a prince
I felt the magical between us ever since
The first time that I laid eyes on you
I want you to be my girl, so I can hold you
Caress you and let you know that I love you
And day by day my love grows
Heres where I stand, I gotta be your man
I dont care if were from two different worlds
But were from
Two different, two different, were from two different worlds
Two different, two different worlds
I dont understand the way you feel
But its just a dream and it could never be real
So face to face I cant love you
Were from two, different worlds
Two different, two different, were from two different worlds
Two different, two different worlds
Man things are different, birds and bees
Flowers and trees, you and me
But it really doesnt matter, it makes us stronger
Theres more to talk about, well be together longer
Trustin me, have faith in my love
It goes so deep, girl youre so sweet
As a matter of fact, I want you for my wife
Please be a part of my life
I cant believe you wont give up
Your love is strong but boy, so what so what
You cant love me, I cant love you
Were from two, different worlds it doesnt matter
Two different, two different two different,
Were from two different worlds i dont care
Two different so what two different worlds
It could never make a difference in my heart
it could never make a difference
Never could keep us apart
Hold on hold on who cares what the world is sayin?
i do my love goes so deep, mmm, baby hold on
I know baby, lets take it to the climax
Two different, two different two different so different
Were from two different worlds i dont care
Two different so what, two different worlds
So whats it gonna be, you wanna be with me?
I wanna be witchu, my love is true
All you gotta do is get into love
Its like a blessin in disguise, sent from up above
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Old Town Types No. 6 - Flash Phil
Still I've the picture of him - Flash Phil Galloway;
In a shining dog-cart driving down the road;
Spanking ponies dashing by,
Running tandem, stepping high;
Silver-plated harness where the sunlight glowed.
Everybody waved to him - Kind Phil Galloway
Bright eye, curling hair, big blond moustache.
No man, in those feckless days,
Thought to curb his reckless ways:
'Right man for the district, sir; tho' just a trifle rash.'
Flash Phil Galloway owned a station property
Left him by his father, back in sixty-nine;
Owned a stretch of sheepland, too,
Left him by his Uncle Lou;
Owned his mother's big estate along the Ballantyne
Three tidy fortunes: and Phil upon a race day
Standing for a luncheon - frills and fancy grub.
'Champagne and caviar,
Every toff a big cigar,
All the tucker packed in ice! Oysters in a tub!'
Flash Phil Galloway, loaded down with mortgages,
Deep in mining ventures 'to make another rise.'
Debonair and reckless still
Generous - the same old Phil,
While kindly bankers were ready with supplies.
Bluff Phil Galloway chatting with the manager:
'Where do I sign this one? Read it? Haw, what rot!'
The banker, as he folds the deed:
'And how much, this time, will you need?'
Laughs Flash Phil Galloway, 'Gad! How much have you got?'
Old Phil Galloway, grey haired and garrulous,
Stopping old acquaintances along the city ways,
Hanging round the leading pub
Lounging by the Squatters' Club
Half-crowns changing hands 'for sake of olden days . . . .'
But I keep my picture of him - Flash Phil Galloway
In a shining dog-cart - I can see him still:
Spanking ponies dashing by,
Running tandem, stepping high;
Silver plated harness - 'Hey! Happy days, Phil!'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Reminders
Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As word
s confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.
song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Annals of Assur-Nasir-Pal column I
To Ninip most powerful hero, great, chief of the gods, warrior, powerful Lord, whose onset in battle has not been opposed, eldest son,
crusher of opponents, first-born son of Nukimmut, supporter of the seven, noble ruler, King of the gods the producers, governor, he who rolls along the mass
of heaven and earth, opener of canals, treader of the wide earth, the god who in his divinity nourishes heaven and earth, the beneficent,
the exalted, the powerful, who has not lessened the glory of his face, head of nations, bestower of sceptres, glorious, over all cities a ruler,
valiant, the renown of whose sceptre is not approached, chief of widespread influence, great among the gods, shading from the southern sun, Lord of Lords, whose hand the vault of heaven
(and) earth has controlled, a King in battle mighty who has vanquished opposition, victorious, powerful, Lord of water-courses and seas,
strong, not yielding, whose onset brings down the green corn, smiting the land of the enemy, like the cutting of reeds, the deity who changes not his purposes,
the light of heaven and earth, a bold leader on the waters, destroyer of them that hate (him), a spoiler (and) Lord of the disobedient, dividing enemies, whose name in the speech of the gods
no god has ever disregarded, the gatherer of life, the god(?) whose prayers are good, whose abode is in the city of Calah, a great Lord, my Lord - (who am) Assur-nasir-pal, the mighty King,
King of multitudes, a Prince unequalled, Lord of all the four countries, powerful over hosts of men, the possession of Bel and Ninip the exalted and Anu
and of Dakan, a servant of the great gods in the lofty shrine for great (O Ninip) is thy heart; a worshipper of Bel whose might upon
thy great deity is founded, and thou makest righteous his life, valiant, warrior, who in the service of Assur his Lord hath proceeded, and among the Kings
of the four regions who has not his fellow, a Prince for admiration, not sparing opponents, mighty leader, who an equal
has not, a Prince reducing to order his disobedient ones, who has subdued whole multitudes of men, a strong worker, treading down
the heads of his enemies, trampling on all foes, crushing assemblages of rebels, who in the service of the great gods his Lords
marched vigorously and the lands of all of them his hand captured, caused the forests of all of them to fall, and received their tribute, taking
securities, establishing laws over all lands, when Assur the Lord who proclaims my name and augments my Royalty
laid hold upon his invincible power for the forces of my Lordship, for Assur-nasir-pal, glorious Prince, worshipper of the great gods
the generous, the great, the powerful, acquirer of cities and forests and the territory of all of them, King of Lords, destroying the wicked, strengthening
the peaceful, not sparing opponents, a Prince of firm will(?) one who combats oppression, Lord of all Kings,
Lord of Lords, the acknowledged, King of Kings, seated gloriously, the renown of Ninip the warrior, worshipper of the great gods, prolonging the benefits (conferred by) his fathers:
a Prince who in the service of Assur and the Sun-god, the gods in whom he trusted, royally marched to turbulent lands, and Kings who had rebelled against him
[he cut off like grass, all their lands to his feet he subjected, restorer of the worship of the goddesses and that of the great gods,
Chief unwavering, who for the guidance of the heads (and) elders of his land is a steadfast guardian, the work of whose hands and
the gift of whose finger the great gods of heaven and earth have exalted, and his steps over rulers have they established forever;
[...] Read more
poem by King Assur-Bani-Pal
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A Prophecy
The Guardian Prince of Albion burns in his nightly tent,
Sullen fires across the Atlantic glow to America's shore:
Piercing the souls of warlike men, who rise in silent night,
Washington, Franklin, Paine & Warren, Gates, Hancock & Green;
Meet on the coast glowing with blood from Albions fiery Prince.
Washington spoke; Friends of America look over the Atlantic sea;
A bended bow is lifted in heaven, & a heavy iron chain t158
Descends link by link from Albions cliffs across the sea to bind
Brothers & sons of America, till our faces pale and yellow;
Heads deprest, voices weak, eyes downcast, hands work-bruis'd,
Feet bleeding on the sultry sands, and the furrows of the whip
Descend to generations that in future times forget.––
The strong voice ceas'd; for a terrible blast swept over the heaving sea;
The eastern cloud rent; on his cliffs stood Albions wrathful Prince
A dragon form clashing his scales at midnight he arose,
And flam'd red meteors round the land of Albion beneath[.]
His voice, his locks, his awful shoulders, and his glowing eyes,
Appear to the Americans upon the cloudy night.
Solemn heave the Atlantic waves between the gloomy nations,
Swelling, belching from its deeps red clouds & raging Fires!
Albion is sick. America faints! enrag'd the Zenith grew.
As human blood shooting its veins all round the orbed heaven
Red rose the clouds from the Atlantic in vast wheels of blood
And in the red clouds rose a Wonder o'er the Atlantic sea;
Intense! naked! a Human fire fierce glowing, as the wedge
Of iron heated in the furnace; his terrible limbs were fire
With myriads of cloudy terrors banners dark & towers
Surrounded; heat but not light went thro' the murky atmosphere
The King of England looking westward trembles at the vision
Albions Angel stood beside the Stone of night, and saw
The terror like a comet, or more like the planet red
That once inclos'd the terrible wandering comets in its sphere.
Then Mars thou wast our center, & the planets three flew round
Thy crimson disk; so e'er the Sun was rent from thy red sphere;
The Spectre glowd his horrid length staining the temple long
With beams of blood; & thus a voice came forth, and shook the temple
The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations;
The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up;
The bones of death, the cov'ring clay, the sinews shrunk & dry'd.
Reviving shake, inspiring move, breathing! awakening!
Spring like redeemed captives when their bonds & bars are burst;
Let the slave grinding at the mill, run out into the field:
[...] Read more
poem by William Blake from America a Prophecy (1793)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Piper And The Prey
this is how friday ended
a little bit hard to believe
my perception slightly bending
as the piper came on the scene
it was something so hypnotic
the music even changed
the crowd got up and got chaotic
and they paid so they could play
the pied piper played
the pied piper pushed
songs to make them crave
songs that seemed so good
songs that made it easier
songs down in their blood
songs that take, steal the love
until the song has had enough
at first, the dance was hesitant
not long before everyone knew it
the music spun them 'round and 'round
then it pulled the dancers into it
i danced my dance at my own pace
he laughed, knowing i would change
it took all i had in so many ways
saw others dance until they fell on their face
and still the piper played...
the pied piper played
the pied piper pushed
songs to make them crave
songs that seemed so good
songs that made it easier
songs down in their blood
songs that take, steal the love
until the song has had enough
bodies on the floor
unconscious and awake
the piper gave them more;
they took all that he gave
he played a new illusion
while the world began to sway
the dance became delusion
our hearts became the prey
and i danced as he played
and i danced as he pushed
songs that made me crave
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Stricken [from]
::record::
a teacher ::record:: helps a boy get a gun
it's about not ::record:: looking mistakable
::record::
houndstooth
accordion attache
bounty hunter provisions
::record:: I told the teacher about Pietro's
I was angry with the police again
it was not my movie
I was mixed up in campaign finance reform
I was sweet shiftless and poor
and stricken
::record::, a boy is loaded
American Express makes it ::record:: better
'providing alternatives to jail for persons who pose no danger to the community'
Loan Consolidators for your ::record:: problems
'but use purpose area #15A if primary focus is drug testing or purpose area #20 if focus is reducing jail crowding'
Effective Sanctions that Fit the ::record:: Budget
somehow I was caught up in this
and questioned about a family ::record:: resemblance
[...] Read more
poem by Heather Fuller
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Another Restless Dream
Started off at a house were I was outside with Jachin. It was Halloween and my family was at a Halloween event. I had a new phone and was takin a ton of pictures. Jachin started talking to me and the Preston and Phil showed up. The sun was going down and we all got in Phil's SUV. And he was driving crazy and Preston was in the back seat with me and he started asking me if I had read any cool end of the world books. He told me about one him and Phil read. Both of their eyes were red they were high. We stopped at a parking lot and I got out. They started to drive away and I jumped on the car door and hung on while they drove.then suddenly We were all walking and the sun went down. Mireya was with us. We went to a parking lot. We're her ex was going to fight another kid. The other kid was fat. I walked towards her ex and tried talking to him but he was a jerk and I ended up cussing him out as I walked away I passed the other keep put my hand on his shoulder and told him to kick his ass homez. They fought. Then in the corner of my eye I saw a teacher holding a tranquilizer rifle aiming at the dudes.I ran into a little ally were a big fence was, everybody was already on the other side. So I started climbing it and Mireya was helping. I finally jumped over and we all started running but the teacher grabbed Mireya's arm through the fence, I ran back and pulled her free. We ran and Mireya's pants got torn she wasn't wearing any, so we went to her house. An apartment were these zig zag stairs went up three floors, she lived on the top with her mom. You could hear her mom screaming at her'why are you always late to come home? You come home only to change then you leave again at 2 in the morning, what time is it.'As Mireya walks out slamming the door and running down the stairs her mom keeps screaming what Time is it. It's dark me Mireya Phil and Preston hang under a nearby street lamp. There's a bench but Phil and Preston are kneeling on the ground. I'm standing close to Mireya who has a new outfit on and is laying on the bench. I'm looking at Mireya as they ask what she's going to do when the world end. She says she was born in Mexico and shes going to be where she was born to die. She said yup that was her plan, she looked at me, and Phil asks me what my plans for the end of the world are. I say I honestly don't know.. Then say I'll probably be in Mexico partying with Mireya. We all laugh and talk about how the party would last a week. The were quiet and Mireya looks at me and say taco taco burrito burrito. Then I sing that song from South Park. And I wake up.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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The Quaker Graveyard in Nantucket
Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of the air
and the beasts and the whole earth, and every creeping creature that moveth upon the earth.
I
A brackish reach of shoal off Madaket,-
The sea was still breaking violently and night
Had steamed into our north Atlantic Fleet,
when the drowned sailor clutched the drag-net. Light
Flashed from his matted head and marble feet,
He grappled at the net
With the coiled, hurdling muscles of his thighs;
The corpse was bloodless, a botch of red and whites,
It's open, starring eyes
Were lusterless dead-lights
Or cabin-windows on a stranded hulk
Heavy with sand. we weight the body, close
Its eyes and heave it seaward whence it came,
Where the heel-headed dogfish barks at its nose
On Ahab's void and forehead; and the name
Is blocked in yellow chalk.
Sailors, who pitch this at the portent at the sea
Where dreadnoughts shall confess
It's hell-bent deity
When you are powerless
To sand-bag this Atlantic bulwark, faced
By the earth-shaker, green, unwearied, chaste
In his steel scales; ask for no Orphean lute
To pluck life back. The guns of the steeled fleet
Recoiled and then repeat
The hoarse salute
II.
Whenever winds are moving and their breath
Heaved at the roped-in bulwarks of this pier,
Then terns and sea-gulls tremble at your death
In these waters. Sailor, can you hear
The Pequod's sea wings, beating landward, fall
Headlong and break on our Atlantic wall
Off 'Sconset, where the yawing S-boats-splash
The bellbuoy, with ballooning spinnakers,
As the entangled, screeching mainsheet clears
The blocks: off Madaket, where lubbers lash
The heavy surf and throw their long lead squids
For blue-fish? Sea-gulls blink their heavy lids
Seaward. The winds' wings beat upon the stones,
Cousin, and scream for you and the claws rush
At the sea's throat and wring it in the slush
Of this old Quaker graveyard where the bones
Cry out in the long night for the hurt beast
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Lowell
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Groundhog Day 1 'The Legend of Punxsutawney Phil
Punxsutawney Phil, yes that's his name,
Predicting the weather is his game;
Phil knows how to call it, so rest your fears,
He's done it for a hundred n' twenty years.
They say that he's a loner, maybe a snob,
He hails from a place called 'Gobbler's Knob; '
He lives in a cave, and will never roam,
Except when he travels in his motor home.
All over the world, he's one of a kind,
Though imitators are never hard to find;
Punxsutawney's also a real heart breaker,
For the girls all love a weather maker.
He's quite a celebrity, you might say,
Even has his own 'Punxsutawney Day; '
He has a web site and fan club too,
Personal trainers, and a make-up crew.
He's had his breaks with TV and radio,
Even made an appearance on Oprah's show;
Yearly his town has a parade in his name,
Seems for Phil, there's no end to his fame.
He made his first forecast, or so they say,
In 1887, February's second day.
You might wonder, how Phil could live so long,
He drinks 'elixir of life' and takes it strong.
He speaks a strange language, but only to the ear,
Of the 'Circle' president, who's standing near;
He predicts the weather, that six weeks will bring,
Guiding us from the winter, up to spring.
He uses his shadow, that's how he knows,
Keeping us posted on upcoming snows;
He's 100 percent accurate, as records reveal,
Punxsutawney Phil, now he's the real deal!
So, if you plan to travel, through Pennsylvania land,
Why not visit this legend, and shake his hand?
But before you complete your travel log,
Check with Punxsutawney Phil, the weather groundhog.
HAPPY GROUNDHOG DAY!
poem by Loyd C. Taylor
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Washed Away Under Work Loads
artists feel frustrated
when achieving not
when producing art not
not realizing images
in shifting vision mind
artists should
be producing art
no time for cooking
no time for cleaning
no time for hair cut
artists should not
not be able to keep up
with fermenting ideas
rain weather changes
haunting wake up calls
not creating art
is wasting artistic souls
is wasting artistic lives
in dry season droughts
withering artistic minds
work income human activities
life necessity farming for wages
dependent on salary climates
fifty sixty wage slave hours
is change devastating for artists
this drought no time for artistic activities
is crop failure starvation of artistic minds
leading to artistic suffering on massive scales
droughts are caused by lack of fertility rains
extended over long periods of wage slave times
slight brief rains slight artistic showers
is normality artistic not enough spring rains
to ground absorb artistic evaporated minds
artist is dehydrated lacking soul rejuvenations
plants animals need sustaining life waters
artists need self generated creativity waters
least art dies death of artistic dehydrations
art is main ingredient in artistic food chains
plants die from lack of water therefore animals
eating these plants will also die in drought cycles
artists true artists deprived of art wither drought dies
in mind soul lacking artistic flowering rejuvenations
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A poem, on the rising glory of America
LEANDER.
No more of Memphis and her mighty kings,
Or Alexandria, where the Ptolomies.
Taught golden commerce to unfurl her falls,
And bid fair science smile: No more of Greece
Where learning next her early visit paid,
And spread her glories to illume the world,
No more of Athens, where she flourished,
And saw her sons of mighty genius rise
Smooth flowing Plato, Socrates and him
Who with resistless eloquence reviv'd
The Spir't of Liberty, and shook the thrones
Of Macedon and Persia's haughty king.
No more of Rome enlighten'd by her beams,
Fresh kindling there the fire of eloquence,
And poesy divine; imperial Rome!
Whose wide dominion reach'd o'er half the globe;
Whose eagle flew o'er Ganges to the East,
And in the West far to the British isles.
No more of Britain, and her kings renown'd,
Edward's and Henry's thunderbolts of war;
Her chiefs victorious o'er the Gallic foe;
Illustrious senators, immortal bards,
And wise philosophers, of these no more.
A Theme more new, tho' not less noble claims
Our ev'ry thought on this auspicious day
The rising glory of this western world,
Where now the dawning light of science spreads
Her orient ray, and wakes the muse's song;
Where freedom holds her sacred standard high,
And commerce rolls her golden tides profuse
Of elegance and ev'ry joy of life.
ACASTO.
Since then Leander you attempt a strain
So new, so noble and so full of fame;
And since a friendly concourse centers here
America's own sons, begin O muse!
Now thro' the veil of ancient days review
The period fam'd when first Columbus touch'd
The shore so long unknown, thro' various toils,
Famine and death, the hero made his way,
Thro' oceans bestowing with eternal storms.
But why, thus hap'ly found, should we resume
The tale of Cortez, furious chief, ordain'd
With Indian blood to dye the sands, and choak
Fam'd Amazonia's stream with dead! Or why,
Once more revive the story old in fame,
[...] Read more
poem by Hugh Henry Brackenridge
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A Song of Honour
I climbed a hill as light fell short,
And rooks came home in scramble sort,
And filled the trees and flapped and fought
And sang themselves to sleep;
An owl from nowhere with no sound
Swung by and soon was nowhere found,
I heard him calling half-way round,
Holloing loud and deep;
A pair of stars, faint pins of light,
Then many a star, sailed into sight,
And all the stars, the flower of night,
Were round me at a leap;
To tell how still the valleys lay
I heard a watchdog miles away,
And bells of distant sheep.
I heard no sound of bird or bell,
The mastiff in a slumber fell,
I stared into the sky,
As wondering men have always done
Since beauty and the stars were one
Though none so hard as I.
It seemed, so still the valleys were,
As if the whole world knelt at prayer,
Save me and me alone;
So pure and wide that silence was
I feared to bend a blade of grass,
And there I stood like stone.
There, sharp and sudden, there I heard -
Ah! some wild lovesick singing bird
Woke singing in the trees?
The nightingale and babble-wren
Were in the English greenwood then,
And you heard one of these?
The babble-wren and nightingale
Sang in the Abyssinian vale
That season of the year!
Yet, true enough, I heard them plain,
I heard them both again, again,
As sharp and sweet and clear
As if the Abyssinian tree
Had thrust a bough across the sea,
Had thrust a bough across to me
With music for my ear!
I heard them both, and oh! I heard
The song of every singing bird
That sings beneath the sky,
And with the song of lark and wren
The song of mountains, moths and men
And seas and rainbows vie!
I heard the universal choir,
[...] Read more
poem by Ralph Hodgson
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The Song Of Honour
I climbed a hill as light fell short,
And rooks came home in scramble sort,
And filled the trees and flapped and fought
And sang themselves to sleep;
An owl from nowhere with no sound
Swung by and soon was nowhere found,
I heard him calling half-way round,
Holloing loud and deep;
A pair of stars, faint pins of light,
Then many a star, sailed into sight,
And all the stars, the flower of night,
Were round me at a leap;
To tell how still the valleys lay
I heard a watchdog miles away. . . .
And bells of distant sheep.
I heard no more of bird or bell,
The mastiff in a slumber fell,
I stared into the sky,
As wondering men have always done
Since beauty and the stars were one,
Though none so hard as I.
It seemed, so still the valleys were,
As if the whole world knelt in prayer,
Save me and me alone;
So pure and wide that silence was
I feared to bend a blade of grass,
And there I stood like a stone.
There, sharp and sudden, there I heard --
Ah! Some wild lovesick singing bird
Woke singing in the trees?
The nightingale and babble-wren
Were in the English greenwood then,
And you heard one of these?
The babble-wren and the nightingale
Sang in the Abyssinian vale
That season of the year!
Yet, true enough, I heard them plain,
I heard them both again, again,
As sharp and sweet and clear
As if the Abyssinian tree
Had thrust a bough across the sea,
Had thrust a bough across to me
With music for my ear!
I heard them both, and oh! I heard
The song of every singing bird
[...] Read more
poem by Ralph Hodgson
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Depict This Different
Depict this different,
From the others sent.
This one has meaning.
With some evidence in it.
Depict this different.
Pick off the lint.
Wrap this around your mind,
Feel the warmth in it meant.
Depict this different,
From the others sent.
This one has meaning.
With some evidence in it.
Thaw the cold you hold in your heart.
Depict this different.
And don't let a freezing,
In you start.
Depict it!
Rub and cuddle up.
Depict it.
With purpose and a reason.
Appreciate each season,
With a new breath to breathe.
Depict this different,
From the others sent.
This one has meaning.
With some evidence in it.
Depict this different.
You can depict this different.
Depict this different.
You can depict this different.
Rub and cuddle up.
Depict it.
Pleased as a breeze.
Depict it.
Give your troubles up.
Depict it.
And be free.
Depict it.
Don't give them any hints,
Your mind's at ease.
Depict this different,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Golden Opportunity
(ian hunter)
The kids are ok
Theyre telling you now
But youre letting them down
Cause you just dont know how
And its a golden opportunity
Im spinning in space
Im laughing away
Your so pathetic
I can just hear them say
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
See hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
Get near it
Its a golden opportunity
We reckon theyre rats
Now see how they run
My house is so common
And were dumb were so dumb
And its a golden opportunity
Scream all you suckers
Scream all you can
Im losing my bluff
Its a scam its a scam
And its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
Alright!
You better hear it hear it
Hear it hear it
Its a golden opportunity
Hear it
Hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
(fade)
song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tristram And Iseult
I
TRISTRAM
Tristram. Is she not come? The messenger was sure—
Prop me upon the pillows once again—
Raise me, my page! this cannot long endure.
—Christ, what a night! how the sleet whips the pane!
What lights will those out to the northward be?
The Page. The lanterns of the fishing-boats at sea.
Tristram. Soft—who is that, stands by the dying fire?
The Page. Iseult.
Tristram. Ah! not the Iseult I desire.
What Knight is this so weak and pale,
Though the locks are yet brown on his noble head,
Propt on pillows in his bed,
Gazing seaward for the light
Of some ship that fights the gale
On this wild December night?
Over the sick man's feet is spread
A dark green forest-dress;
A gold harp leans against the bed,
Ruddy in the fire's light.
I know him by his harp of gold,
Famous in Arthur's court of old;
I know him by his forest-dress—
The peerless hunter, harper, knight,
Tristram of Lyoness.
What Lady is this, whose silk attire
Gleams so rich in the light of the fire?
The ringlets on her shoulders lying
In their flitting lustre vying
With the clasp of burnish'd gold
Which her heavy robe doth hold.
Her looks are mild, her fingers slight
As the driven snow are white;
But her cheeks are sunk and pale.
Is it that the bleak sea-gale
Beating from the Atlantic sea
On this coast of Brittany,
Nips too keenly the sweet flower?
Is it that a deep fatigue
Hath come on her, a chilly fear,
Passing all her youthful hour
Spinning with her maidens here,
Listlessly through the window-bars
[...] Read more
poem by Matthew Arnold
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Self Healer
1, 2, 3, 4
When it feels like, when it feels like
Culture gets too much for me, I go , I go outside
Singing songs to alabys, singing songs to alabys,
Singing songs to alabys,
A song is a beautiful lie, a song is a beautiful lie
A song is a beautiful lie, a song is a beautiful lie
When it feels like, when it feels like
Culture gets too much for me, I go , I go outside
Singing songs to alabys, singing songs to alabys,
Singing songs to alabys,
A song is a beautiful lie, a song is a beautiful lie
A song is a beautiful lie, a song is a beautiful lie
When it feels like, when it feels like
Culture gets too much for me, I go , I go outside
Singing songs to alabys, singing songs to alabys,
Singing songs to alabys,
A song is a beautiful lie, a song is a beautiful lie
A song is a beautiful...
LIE
A song is a beautiful lie, a song is a beautiful lie
And they know that one day when you die
That maybe you will buy, maybe you will buy
But now I sit alone and say a song is a beautiful lie
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Apocryphal Song of Songs
Song of Songs: Chapter one
When my darling is still slumbering
the blanket drawn up to her chin,
lying peaceful
I am without words
when the day brake red across the mountain’s comb
she is still stretched out
while the sun lovingly
stirs its first fingers
and when she moves
her big golden bracelet shines
pearls around her neck glitter
like the dewdrops
outside on the grass and trees,
like the golden colour of the sun
that now hangs high above the horizon
and I can catch the first white gleaming
of her smile
the morning wind swirls
singing over the glory
that she brings to my life
her eyes glitters brighter than the heaven
with their own rays and meaning
that is caught in her glance,
she looks lovely and fresh
and I know that God is blessing me
with her presence,
where He binds us together
in moments of time.
Song of Songs: Chapter two
I want to feel the rays of sun in your eyes
being lost over my body,
bending over your body
I want to take the core out of your soul,
I want to feel the pulse beat of your heart
in your naked breast,
through the pleasure and pain of this life
I want to long day after day for you
and abate all my passion, all my joy in you,
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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