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4 Minute Mile

Cast: Analeigh Tipton, Cam Gigandet, Kim Basinger, Richard Jenkins, Rhys Coiro, Kelly Blatz, Blair Fowler, Dylan Arnold

trailer for 4 Minute Mile, directed by Charles-Olivier Michaud (2014)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Wonderful (Remix) (Feat. Ja Rule & R

Wonderful (Remix)?
(Featuring R. Kelly and Ja Rule)
(Intro- Harmony: R. Kelly)
Huuuummmha, ha, ha, huuummm.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh!
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh!
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
(Chorus: R. Kelly and Ashanti)
(R. Kelly:) If it wasnt for the money, cars and movies stars and jewels
And all these things I got, I wonder, hey.
Would you still want me (Ashanti: Want you)?
Would you still be calling me (Ashanti: Still calling you)?
You be loving me (Ashanti: Ill be loving you, uhhh-uhhh-uhhh-uhhh)?
(Rap: Ja Rule: Verse 1)
Wanna keep you flawed with no dough?
Pimpin aint easy. Trust me I know.
When gangstas and hos,
Go, go, go, go, go, go together like chinchilla and bad weather,
Im good but been better.
All my bros, chedda and glamorous things, copped a few cars.
A crib with a east and west wing.
Cause this is how Im livin and yall women know the secrets of how to get it and keep it, how to prey on my weakness,
Cause I want the P-U-S-S-Y.
Got a lotta niggaz wonderin it aint just I,
Gotta keep ya cash comin and that's on my life.
If it wasnt for the money and the things I got,
Shit, she probably wouldnt like me.
But I keep her and Irv and Jeffrey quite icy
Sip seraphin.
Who doesnt like me and the Murderous I-N-C?
(Chorus: R. Kelly and Ashanti)
(R. Kelly:) If it wasnt for the money, cars and movies stars and jewels
And all these things I got, I wonder, hey.
Would you still want me (Ashanti: Want you)?
Would you still be calling me (Ashanti: Still calling you)?
You be loving me (Ashanti: Ill be loving you, uhhh-uhhh-uhhh-uhhh)?
(Rap: Ja Rule [and R. Kelly]: Verse 2)
I wonder why love is about money
and why you wanna take it all from me?
Honey,
My life is dark but its lovely.
Crimes, cars, cribs.
Aint that right Kelly
(R. Kelly: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh!)?
Yall bitches dont know,
Money aint a thang.
Mami need a lil change,
Girl, Im pitchin quarters.
Closest to the arches but live in a fortress.

[...] Read more

song performed by Ashanti
Added by Lucian Velea
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Primus

Incipit Liber Secundus

Inuidie culpa magis est attrita dolore,
Nam sua mens nullo tempore leta manet:
Quo gaudent alii, dolet ille, nec vnus amicus
Est, cui de puro comoda velle facit.
Proximitatis honor sua corda veretur, et omnis
Est sibi leticia sic aliena dolor.
Hoc etenim vicium quam sepe repugnat amanti,
Non sibi, set reliquis, dum fauet ipsa Venus.
Est amor ex proprio motu fantasticus, et que
Gaudia fert alius, credit obesse sibi.

Now after Pride the secounde
Ther is, which many a woful stounde
Towardes othre berth aboute
Withinne himself and noght withoute;
For in his thoght he brenneth evere,
Whan that he wot an other levere
Or more vertuous than he,
Which passeth him in his degre;
Therof he takth his maladie:
That vice is cleped hot Envie.
Forthi, my Sone, if it be so
Thou art or hast ben on of tho,
As forto speke in loves cas,
If evere yit thin herte was
Sek of an other mannes hele?
So god avance my querele,
Mi fader, ye, a thousend sithe:
Whanne I have sen an other blithe
Of love, and hadde a goodly chiere,
Ethna, which brenneth yer be yere,
Was thanne noght so hot as I
Of thilke Sor which prively
Min hertes thoght withinne brenneth.
The Schip which on the wawes renneth,
And is forstormed and forblowe,
Is noght more peined for a throwe
Than I am thanne, whanne I se
An other which that passeth me
In that fortune of loves yifte.
Bot, fader, this I telle in schrifte,
That is nowher bot in o place;
For who that lese or finde grace
In other stede, it mai noght grieve:
Bot this ye mai riht wel believe,
Toward mi ladi that I serve,
Thogh that I wiste forto sterve,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Septimus

Incipit Liber Octavus

Que favet ad vicium vetus hec modo regula confert,
Nec novus e contra qui docet ordo placet.
Cecus amor dudum nondum sua lumina cepit,
Quo Venus impositum devia fallit iter.

------------------------------------ -----------------------------------------------
The myhti god, which unbegunne
Stant of himself and hath begunne
Alle othre thinges at his wille,
The hevene him liste to fulfille
Of alle joie, where as he
Sit inthronized in his See,
And hath hise Angles him to serve,
Suche as him liketh to preserve,
So that thei mowe noght forsueie:
Bot Lucifer he putte aweie,
With al the route apostazied
Of hem that ben to him allied,
Whiche out of hevene into the helle
From Angles into fendes felle;
Wher that ther is no joie of lyht,
Bot more derk than eny nyht
The peine schal ben endeles;
And yit of fyres natheles
Ther is plente, bot thei ben blake,
Wherof no syhte mai be take.
Thus whan the thinges ben befalle,
That Luciferes court was falle
Wher dedly Pride hem hath conveied,
Anon forthwith it was pourveied
Thurgh him which alle thinges may;
He made Adam the sexte day
In Paradis, and to his make
Him liketh Eve also to make,
And bad hem cresce and multiplie.
For of the mannes Progenie,
Which of the womman schal be bore,
The nombre of Angles which was lore,
Whan thei out fro the blisse felle,
He thoghte to restore, and felle
In hevene thilke holy place
Which stod tho voide upon his grace.
Bot as it is wel wiste and knowe,
Adam and Eve bot a throwe,
So as it scholde of hem betyde,
In Paradis at thilke tyde
Ne duelten, and the cause why,
Write in the bok of Genesi,

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poem by John Gower
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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The Assembly Of Ladies

In Septembre, at the falling of the leef,
The fressh sesoun was al-togider doon,
And of the corn was gadered in the sheef;
In a gardyn, about twayn after noon,
Ther were ladyes walking, as was her wone,
Foure in nombre, as to my mynd doth falle,
And I the fifte, the simplest of hem alle.

Of gentilwomen fayre ther were also,
Disporting hem, everiche after her gyse,
In crosse-aleys walking, by two and two,
And some alone, after her fantasyes.
Thus occupyed we were in dyvers wyse;
And yet, in trouthe, we were not al alone;
Ther were knightës and squyers many one.

'Wherof I served?' oon of hem asked me;
I sayde ayein, as it fel in my thought,
'To walke about the mase, in certayntè,
As a woman that [of] nothing rought.'
He asked me ayein—'whom that I sought,
And of my colour why I was so pale?'
'Forsothe,' quod I, 'and therby lyth a tale.'

'That must me wite,' quod he, 'and that anon;
Tel on, let see, and make no tarying.'
'Abyd,' quod I, 'ye been a hasty oon,
I let you wite it is no litel thing.
But, for bicause ye have a greet longing
In your desyr, this proces for to here,
I shal you tel the playn of this matere.—

It happed thus, that, in an after-noon,
My felawship and I, by oon assent,
Whan al our other besinesse was doon,
To passe our tyme, into this mase we went,
And toke our wayes, eche after our entent;
Some went inward, and wend they had gon out,
Some stode amid, and loked al about.

And, sooth to say, some were ful fer behind,
And right anon as ferforth as the best;
Other ther were, so mased in her mind,
Al wayes were good for hem, bothe eest and west.
Thus went they forth, and had but litel rest;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Kelly Watch The Stars

Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
The stars
The stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
The stars
The stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
Kelly watch the stars
The stars
The stars.

song performed by Air
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soul Of A Woman

Kelly price feat/shawn smith
I need healing....
1 - I need a healing for my soul
So give me a healing for my soul
Repeat 1
I need healing
[kelly] hello?
[shawn] kelly?
Just for my soul
I need healing
Yeah, yeah
[kelly] hello
[shawn] kelly, please dont hang up
[kelly] look, I dont have time for this, alright?
[shawn] listen, Ive heard everythign you said today
I dont understand what it is you need from me
Just, please....
Let me come by so we can talk?
[kelly] whatever
Just for my soul
Repeat 1 while:
[kelly] I must be crazy
What was I thinkin?
I should have just told him he couldnt come
I wont open the door when he gets here
Thats all
I just wont open the door
He knows Im here though
Oh god
Im just so tired of this
[kelly] alright, alright, alright
[shawn] damn, I thought you wasnt gonna let me in, sweetheart
[kelly] you almost thought right
Howd you get here so fast anyway?
Whatd you do, fly?
[shawn] why you always gotta be so sarcastic towards me, sweetheart?
Listen, I didnt come here to argue
I didnt come here to fuss or fight
I came here to make things right
I want you to know that I understand what I did
And I wanna make things better between me and you
[kelly] how you figure you can do that?
[shawn] well, I can start by saying that I love you
I mean, ah......
[kelly] Ive heard that before
[shawn] I dont know what to say, um, this is....
I know I did so many things wrong, but..
[kelly] I dont believe you
[shawn] i, I love you, I really do
Can you take me back, please?

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song performed by Kelly Price
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soul Of A Woman[Interlude]

Kelly price feat/shawn smith
I need healing....
1 - I need a healing for my soul
So give me a healing for my soul
Repeat 1
I need healing
[kelly] hello?
[shawn] kelly?
Just for my soul
I need healing
Yeah, yeah
[kelly] hello
[shawn] kelly, please dont hang up
[kelly] look, I dont have time for this, alright?
[shawn] listen, Ive heard everythign you said today
I dont understand what it is you need from me
Just, please....
Let me come by so we can talk?
[kelly] whatever
Just for my soul
Repeat 1 while:
[kelly] I must be crazy
What was I thinkin?
I should have just told him he couldnt come
I wont open the door when he gets here
Thats all
I just wont open the door
He knows Im here though
Oh god
Im just so tired of this
[kelly] alright, alright, alright
[shawn] damn, I thought you wasnt gonna let me in, sweetheart
[kelly] you almost thought right
Howd you get here so fast anyway?
Whatd you do, fly?
[shawn] why you always gotta be so sarcastic towards me, sweetheart?
Listen, I didnt come here to argue
I didnt come here to fuss or fight
I came here to make things right
I want you to know that I understand what I did
And I wanna make things better between me and you
[kelly] how you figure you can do that?
[shawn] well, I can start by saying that I love you
I mean, ah......
[kelly] Ive heard that before
[shawn] I dont know what to say, um, this is....
I know I did so many things wrong, but..
[kelly] I dont believe you
[shawn] i, I love you, I really do
Can you take me back, please?

[...] Read more

song performed by Kelly Price
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kelly's Conversion

KELLY the Ranger half opened an eye
To wink at the Army passing by,
While his hot breath, thick with the taint of beer,
Came forth from his lips in a drunken jeer.
Brown and bearded and long of limb
He lay, as the Army confronted him
And, clad in grey, one and all did pray
That his deadly sins might be washed away—
But Kelly stubbornly answered ‘Nay.'
Then the captain left him in mild despair,
But before the music took up its blare
A pale-faced lassie stepped out and spoke—
A little sad girl in a sad grey cloak—
‘Rise up, Kelly! your work's to do:
Kelly, the Saviour's a-calling you!'
He strove to look wise; rubbed at his eyes;
Looked down at the ground, looked up at the skies;
And something that p'r'aps was his conscience stirred:
He seemed perplexed as again he heard
The girl with the garments of saddest hue
Say, ‘Kelly, the Saviour's a-calling you!'
He got on his knees and thence to his feet,
And stumbled away down the dusty street;
Contrived to cadge at the pub a drink,
But still in his ear the glasses chink
And jingle only the one refrain,
Clear as the lassie's voice again:
‘Kelly, Kelly, come here to me!
Kelly the Rager, I've work for thee!'
He trembled, and dropped the tumbler, and slopped
The beer on the counter: the barman stopped,
With a curious eye on his haggard face.
‘Kelly, old fellow! you're going the pace.
Don't you fancy it's time to take
A pull on yourself—put your foot on the brake?
You'll have the horrors, without a doubt,
This time next week, if you don't look out.'
But he didn't—he sobered himself that night:
‘That time next week' he was nearly right:
Yet still at the mill, though he'd stopped the grog,
As the saw bit into the green pine log,
The wood shrieked out to him in its pain
A fragment caught of the same refrain,
As the swift teeth cut and the sawdust flew—
‘Kelly, Kelly, I've work for you!'

Then the seasons fell and the floods came down
And laid the dust in the frightened town.
No more the beat of hoofs and feet
Was heard the length of the crooked street;

[...] Read more

poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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Twin State

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 20

Thanne as I wente by the way, whan I was thus awaked,
Hevy chered I yede, and elenge in herte;
For I ne wiste wher to ete ne at what place,
And it neghed neigh the noon, and with Nede I mette,
That afrounted me foule and faitour me called.
'Coudestow noght excuse thee, as dide the kyng and othere -
That thow toke to thy bilyve, to clothes and to sustenaunce,
Was by techynge and by tellynge of Spiritus Temperancie,
And that thow nome na moore than nede thee taughte,
And nede ne hath no lawe, ne nevere shal falle in dette
For thre thynges he taketh his lif for to save? -
That is, mete whan men hym werneth, and he no moneye weldeth,
Ne wight noon wol ben his borugh, ne wed hath noon to legge;
And he ca[cch]e in that caas and come therto by sleighte,

He synneth noght, soothliche, that so wynneth his foode.
And though he come so to a clooth, and kan no bettre chevyssaunce,
Nede anoon righte nymeth hym under maynprise.
And if hym list for to lape, the lawe of kynde wolde
That he dronke at ech dych, er he [deide for thurst].
So Nede, at gret nede, may nymen as for his owene,
Withouten conseil of Conscience or Cardynale Vertues -
So that he sewe and save Spiritus Temperancie.
'For is no vertue bi fer to Spiritus Temperancie -
Neither Spiritus Iusticie ne Spiritus Fortitudinis.
For Spiritus Fortitudinis forfeteth ful ofte
He shal do moore than mesure many tyme and ofte,
And bete men over bittre, and som body to litel,
And greve men gretter than good feith it wolde.
'And Spiritus Iusticie shal juggen, wole he, nel he,
After the kynges counseil and the comune like.
And Spiritus Prudencie in many a point shal faille
Of that he weneth wolde falle if his wit ne weere.
Wenynge is no wysdom, ne wys ymaginacion
Homo proponit et Deus disponit -
[God] governeth alle goode vertues;
And Nede is next hym, for anoon he meketh
And as lowe as a lomb, for lakkyng that hym nedeth;
For nede maketh nede fele nedes lowe-herted.
Philosophres forsoke welthe for thei wolde be nedy,
And woneden wel elengely and wolde noght be riche.
'And God al his grete joye goostliche he lefte,
And cam and took mankynde and bicam nedy.'
So he was nedy, as seith the Book, in manye sondry places,
That he seide in his some on the selve roode,
''the Fox and fowel may fle to hole and crepe,

And the fissh hath fyn to flete with to reste,
Ther nede hath ynome me, that I moot nede abide
And suffre sorwes ful soure, that shal to joye torne.''

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poem by William Langland
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poem by Caasder Fronds
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The Reaper in the Bush

He was lyin' on his bunk,
In the hut behind the mill,
Ravin' like a man wild drunk,
Never silent, never still,
'Best go in an' say Good bye,'
Says old Blair. 'He's got to die.'

God! I never want to see
Any face so wrung with pain,
Nor to hear such blasphemy
Ever in my life again.
White he was, an' starey-eyed,
With his hand pressed to his side.

'Now he raves,' says Daddy Pike.
'He ain't wise to what he says
Never have I heard the like
All me wicked livin' days.'
'Raise him up a bit,' says Blair.
'Put that pillow under there.

'Raise him. . . . There now, easy, lad.
Turn a little - gently - so.
You'll not feel it near so bad. . . .
Painin'? Yes, I know, I know.
Yes, old man; it's Blair, your friend. . . .
(Boys, he's very near the end.')

Soon a saner, calmer look
Came in Murray's strainin' eyes.
Though his body heaved an' shook,
He held back his awful cries
Till another wave of pain
Gripped him, an' he shrieked again.

'Christ!' he called. 'O, Christ, the pain!
Boys, you know I ain't a funk.'
Still he took the Name in vain,
Writhin' there upon his bunk.
'Do you call him?' says old Blair.
Pointin' upward. 'He is there.'

'Blair!' he gasps. 'Do you believe?
Such as me! Is there a chance?'
'Easy, Murray. Don't you grieve.
You ain't worth a single glance
Save of pity from His eye.
Laddie, pray before you die.'

'God! I'm frightened, Blair!' says he . . .

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Baldness Of Chewed-Ear

When Chewed-ear Jenkins got hitched up to Guinneyveer McGee,
His flowin' locks, ye recollect, wuz frivolous an' free;
But in old Hymen's jack-pot, it's a most amazin' thing,
Them flowin' locks jest disappeared like snow-balls in the Spring;
Jest seemed to wilt an' fade away like dead leaves in the Fall,
An' left old Chewed-ear balder than a white-washed cannon ball.

Now Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins, that wuz Guinneyveer McGee,
Wuz jest about as fine a draw as ever made a pair;
But when the boys got joshin' an' suggested it was she
That must be inflooenshul for the old man's slump in hair --
Why! Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins jest went clean up in the air.

"To demonstrate," sez she that night, "the lovin' wife I am,
I've bought a dozen bottles of Bink's Anty-Dandruff Balm.
'Twill make yer hair jest sprout an' curl like squash-vines in the sun,
An' I'm propose to sling it on till every drop is done."
That hit old Chewed-ear's funny side, so he lays back an' hollers:
"The day you raise a hair, old girl, you'll git a thousand dollars."

Now, whether 'twas the prize or not 'tis mighty hard to say,
But Chewed-ear didn't seem to have much comfort from that day.
With bottles of that dandruff dope she followed at his heels,
An' sprinkled an' massaged him even when he ate his meals.
She waked him from his beauty sleep with tender, lovin' care,
An' rubbed an' scrubbed assiduous, yet never sign of hair.

Well, naturally all the boys soon tumbled to the joke,
An' at the Wow-wow's Social 'twas Cold-deck Davis spoke:
"The little woman's working mighty hard on Chewed-ear's crown;
Let's give her for a three-fifth's share a hundred dollars down.
We stand to make five hundred clear -- boys, drink in whiskey straight:
`The Chewed-ear Jenkins Hirsute Propagation Syndicate'."

The boys wuz on, an' soon chipped in the necessary dust;
They primed up a committy to negotiate the deal;
Then Missis Jenkins yielded, bein' rather in disgust,
An' all wuz signed an' witnessed, an' invested with a seal.
They rounded up old Chewed-ear, an' they broke it what they'd done;
Allowed they'd bought an interest in his chance of raisin' hair;
They yanked his hat off anxiouslike, opinin' one by one
Their magnifyin' glasses showed fine prospects everywhere.
They bought Hairlene, an' Thatchem, an' Jay's Capillery Juice,
An' Seven Something Sisters, an' Macassar an' Bay Rum,
An' everyone insisted on his speshul right to sluice
His speshul line of lotion onto Chewed-ear's cranium.
They only got the merrier the more the old man roared,
An' shares in "Jenkins Hirsute" went sky-highin' on the board.

The Syndicate wuz hopeful that they'd demonstrate the pay,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert William Service
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Secundus

Incipit Liber Tercius

Ira suis paribus est par furiis Acherontis,
Quo furor ad tempus nil pietatis habet.
Ira malencolicos animos perturbat, vt equo
Iure sui pondus nulla statera tenet.
Omnibus in causis grauat Ira, set inter amantes,
Illa magis facili sorte grauamen agit:
Est vbi vir discors leuiterque repugnat amori,
Sepe loco ludi fletus ad ora venit.

----------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------

If thou the vices lest to knowe,
Mi Sone, it hath noght ben unknowe,
Fro ferst that men the swerdes grounde,
That ther nis on upon this grounde,
A vice forein fro the lawe,
Wherof that many a good felawe
Hath be distraght be sodein chance;
And yit to kinde no plesance
It doth, bot wher he most achieveth
His pourpos, most to kinde he grieveth,
As he which out of conscience
Is enemy to pacience:
And is be name on of the Sevene,
Which ofte hath set this world unevene,
And cleped is the cruel Ire,
Whos herte is everemore on fyre
To speke amis and to do bothe,
For his servantz ben evere wrothe.
Mi goode fader, tell me this:
What thing is Ire? Sone, it is
That in oure englissh Wrathe is hote,
Which hath hise wordes ay so hote,
That all a mannes pacience
Is fyred of the violence.
For he with him hath evere fyve
Servantz that helpen him to stryve:
The ferst of hem Malencolie
Is cleped, which in compaignie
An hundred times in an houre
Wol as an angri beste loure,
And noman wot the cause why.
Mi Sone, schrif thee now forthi:
Hast thou be Malencolien?
Ye, fader, be seint Julien,
Bot I untrewe wordes use,
I mai me noght therof excuse:
And al makth love, wel I wot,

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poem by John Gower
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Kiss Test

Lp version
[intro]
This is a test
This is only a test
Boy, do you know
What Im feeling
Im overwhelmed by your lovin
I cant deny
That I want you all the time
But I gotta know
What youre thinkin
Hit it and run, real affection
Whatever it is
I wont let you waste my time
So how will I know
1 - baby with just a kiss
Boy when you touch my lips
Honey, Ill know for sure
Boy, when my eyes meet yours
And if your love is true
Ill give to you my very best
Just pass the test
Boy, when I love
Its completely
Youll do the same
If you want me
Cant be a fool
And just throw my heart away
But how will I know
How will I know
What youre feelin is real
When you say you love me
And how will I know
If its real
What you feel when you say you care
(oh, well put it to the test)
Repeat 1
Repeat 1
Ive got a kiss on my lips
And its wearing your name
So hold on, oh, here it comes
I really wanna know
Its really gonna show
The way you feel inside
No where to hide
Repeat 1 until fade
--------------------------------------------------
Remix
Feat/missy elliott
[dj kay slay]

[...] Read more

song performed by Kelly Price
Added by Lucian Velea
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus

Incipit Liber Primus

Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem
Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:
Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,
Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.
Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas
Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.
Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,
Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.

I may noght strecche up to the hevene
Min hand, ne setten al in evene
This world, which evere is in balance:
It stant noght in my sufficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon othre thinges.
Forthi the Stile of my writinges
Fro this day forth I thenke change
And speke of thing is noght so strange,
Which every kinde hath upon honde,
And wherupon the world mot stonde,
And hath don sithen it began,
And schal whil ther is any man;
And that is love, of which I mene
To trete, as after schal be sene.
In which ther can noman him reule,
For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte,
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
For yet was nevere such covine,
That couthe ordeine a medicine
To thing which god in lawe of kinde
Hath set, for ther may noman finde
The rihte salve of such a Sor.
It hath and schal ben everemor
That love is maister wher he wile,
Ther can no lif make other skile;
For wher as evere him lest to sette,
Ther is no myht which him may lette.
Bot what schal fallen ate laste,

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poem by John Gower
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 19

Thus I awaked and wroot what I hadde ydremed,
And dighte me derely, and dide me to chirche,
To here holly the masse and to be housled after.
In myddes of the masse, tho men yede to offryng,
I fel eftsoones aslepe - and sodeynly me mette
That Piers the Plowman was peynted al blody,
And com in with a cros bifore the comune peple,
And right lik in alle lymes to Oure Lord Jesu.
And thanne called I Conscience to kenne me the sothe
'Is this Jesus the justere,' quod I, 'that Jewes dide to dethe?
Or it is Piers the Plowman! Who peynted hym so rede?'
Quod Conscience, and kneled tho, ' Thise arn Piers armes -
Hise colours and his cote armure; ac he that cometh so blody
Is Crist with his cros, conquerour of Cristene.'
'Why calle ye hym Crist?' quod I, 'sithen Jewes called hym Jesus?
Patriarkes and prophetes prophecied bifore
That alle kynne creatures sholden knelen and bowen
Anoon as men nempned the name of God Jesu.
Ergo is no name to the name of Jesus,
Ne noon so nedeful to nempne by nyghte ne by daye.
For alle derke develes arn adrad to heren it,
And synfulle aren solaced and saved by that name;
And ye callen hym Crist; for what cause, telleth me?
Is Crist moore of myght and moore worthi name
Than Jesu or Jesus, that al oure joye com of?'
'Thow knowest wel,' quod Conscience, 'and thow konne reson,
That knyght, kyng, conquerour may be o persone.
To be called a knyght is fair, for men shul knele to hym;
To be called a kyng is fairer, for he may knyghtes make;
Ac to be conquerour called, that cometh of special grace,
And of hardynesse of herte and of hendemesse -
To make lordes of laddes, of lond that he wynneth,
And fre men foule thralles, that folwen noght hise lawes.

'The Jewes, that were gentil men, Jesu thei despised -
Bothe his loore and his lawe; now are thei lowe cherles.
As wide as the world is, wonyeth ther noon
But under tribut and taillage as tikes and cherles;
And tho that bicome Cristene bi counseil of the Baptiste
Aren frankeleyns, free men thorugh fullynge that thei toke
And gentil men with Jesu - for Jesus was yfulled
And upon Calvarie on cros ycrouned kyng of Jewes.
' It bicometh to a kyng to kepe and to defende,
And conqueror of his conquest hise lawes and his large.
And so dide Jesus the Jewes - he justified and taughte hem
The lawe of lif that laste shal evere,
And fended from foule yveles, feveres and fiuxes,
And from fendes that in hem was, and false bileve.
Tho was he Jesus of Jewes called, gentile prophete,
And kyng of hir kyngdom, and croune bar of thornes.

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poem by William Langland
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Wrong Ones

[Phone Conversation]
[Cam:] Hello
[Girl:] Yo Kam
[Cam:] Yo mom whatsup whats goin on
[Girl:] Yo I cant meet you later yo
[Cam:] What Happened?
[Girl:] Yo he stalkin me
[Cam:] He in yo face like dat
[Girl:] Like dat yo hold on
Yo I'm talkin to June Allright
[Cam:] Damn he in yo face like dat
[Girl:] Just like dat
Yo Ill beep you later I can call you later
[Cam:] Alright Alright

[Cam]
Ay Yo you got ta undastand
I'm like a food to tha world
Cuz I'm friends wit ya man
Plus your cool wit my girl
Now I dont really understand how dat cat he be stressin u
I dont understand that you grown but yet he question u
Guessin that u love him but you in it for tha pay
But he know where u at every minute of tha day
But since we learned to creep
Is like we yearn for sleep
And my girls in my face when i dont return tha beep
Its like a sin or a crime
U in tha benz all tha time
But ya man know u aint wit ya friends all tha time
Ill be selfish
Sayin chancin tha long
Dats why I hang up when he answer tha phone
And Ill be callin from tha house in tha paul lobby
Plus I know him he too cheap for caller ID
And my girl in my face jus stressin me child
But Ill dial anotha number if she press redial

[Chorus]
Ay yo me and u creep right now its all fun
But you ever really think about tha long run
When tha nights over and its all done
Were tha wrong ones were tha wrong ones
Ay yo me and u creep right now its all fun
But you ever really think about tha long run
When tha nights over and its all done
Were tha wrong ones were tha wrong ones

[Cam]
I feel bad but good uh huh

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song performed by Cam'ron from Confessions Of Fire
Added by Lucian Velea
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Deborah's Parrot, a Village Tale

'Twas in a little western town
An ancient Maiden dwelt:
Her name was MISS, or MISTRESS, Brown,
Or DEBORAH, or DEBBY: She
Was doom'd a Spinster pure to be,
For soft delights her breast ne'er felt:
Yet, she had watchful Ears and Eyes
For ev'ry youthful neighbour,
And never did she cease to labour
A tripping female to surprize.

And why was she so wond'rous pure,
So stiff, so solemn--so demure?
Why did she watch with so much care
The roving youth, the wand'ring fair?
The tattler, Fame, has said that she
A Spinster's life had long detested,
But 'twas her quiet destiny,
Never to be molested !--
And had Miss DEBBY'S form been grac'd,
Fame adds,--She had not been so chaste;--
But since for frailty she would roam,
She ne'er was taught--to look at home .

Miss DEBBY was of mien demure
And blush'd, like any maid !
She could not saucy man endure
Lest she should be betray'd!
She never fail'd at dance or fair
To watch the wily lurcher's snare;
At Church, she was a model Godly!
Though sometimes she had other eyes
Than those, uplifted to the skies,
Leering most oddly!
And Scandal, ever busy, thought
She rarely practic'd--what she taught.

Her dress was always stiff brocade,
With laces broad and dear;
Fine Cobwebs ! that would thinly shade
Her shrivell'd cheek of sallow hue,
While, like a Spider, her keen eye,
Which never shed soft pity's tear,
Small holes in others geer could spy,
And microscopic follies, prying view.
And sorely vex'd was ev'ry simple thing
That wander'd near her never-tiring sting!

Miss DEBBY had a PARROT, who,
If Fame speaks true,

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poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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