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GirlHouse

Cast: Ali Cobrin, Adam DiMarco, Slaine, Alyson Bath, Elysia Rotaru, Alice Hunter, Chasty Ballesteros, Nicole Arianna Fox, Zuleyka Silver

trailer for GirlHouse, directed by Trevor Matthews, screenplay by Nick Gordon (2014)
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Z. Comments

CRYSTAL GLOW

Madhur Veena Comment: Who is she? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....You write good!

Margaret Alice Comment: Beautiful, it stikes as heartfelt words and touches the heart, beautiful sentiments, sorry, I repeat myself, but I am delighted. Your poem is like the trinkets I collect to adorn my personal space, pure joy to read, wonderful! Only a beautiful mind can harbour such sentiments, you have a beautiful mind. I am glad you have found someone that inspires you to such heights and that you share it with us, you make the world a mroe wonderful place.

Margaret Alice Comment: Within the context set by the previous poem, “Cosmic Probe”, the description of a lover’s adoration for his beloved becomes a universal ode sung to the abstract values of love, joy and hope personified by light, colours, fragrance and beauty, qualities the poet assigns to his beloved, thus elevating her to the status of an uplifting force because she brings all these qualities to his attention. The poet recognises that these personified values brings him fulfilment and chose the image of a love relationship to illustrate how this comes about; thus a love poem becomes the vehicle to convey spiritual epiphany.

FRAGRANT JASMINE

Margaret Alice Comment: Your words seem to be directed to a divine entity, you seem to be addressing your adoration to a divinity, and it is wonderful to read of such sublime sentiments kindled in a human soul. Mankind is always lifted up by their vision and awareness of divinity, thank you for such pure, clear diction and sharing your awareness of the sublime with us, you have uplifted me so much by this vision you have created!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet’s words seem to be directed to a divine entity, express adoration to a divinity who is the personification of wonderful qualities which awakens a sense of the sublime in the human soul. An uplifting vision and awareness of uplifting qualities of innocence represented by a beautiful person.

I WENT THERE TO BID HER ADIEU

Kente Lucy Comment: wow great writing, what a way to bid farewell

Margaret Alice Comment: Sensory experience is elevated by its symbolical meaning, your description of the scene shows two souls becoming one and your awareness of the importance of tempory experience as a symbol of the eternal duration of love and companionship - were temporary experience only valid for one moment in time, it would be a sad world, but once it is seen as a symbol of eternal things, it becomes enchanting.

I’M INCOMPLETE WITHOUT YOU

Margaret Alice Comment: You elevate the humnan experience of longing for love to a striving for sublimity in uniting with a beloved person, and this poem is stirring, your style of writing is effective, everything flows together perfectly.

Margaret Alice Comment:

'To a resplendent glow of celestial flow
And two split halves unite never to part.'

Reading your fluent poems is a delight, I have to tear myself away and return to the life of a drudge, but what a treasure trove of jewels you made for the weary soul who needs to contemplate higher ideals from time to time!

IN CELESTIAL WINGS

Margaret Alice Comment: When you describe how you are strengthened by your loved one, it is clear that your inner flame is so strong that you need not fear growing old, your spirit seems to become stronger, you manage to convey this impression by your striking poetry. It is a privilege to read your work.

Obed Dela Cruz Comment: wow.... i remembered will shakespeare.... nice poem!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet has transcended the barriers of time and space by becoming an image of his beloved and being able to find peace in the joy he confers to his beloved.

'You transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.'

Margaret Alice Comment: You are my peace and solace, I know, I am, yours too; A mere flash of your thoughts Enlivens my tired soul And fills me with light, peace and solace, A giant in new world, I become, I rise to divine heights in celestial wings. How I desire to reciprocate To fill you with light and inner strength raise you to divine heights; I must cross over nd hold you in arms, light up your soul, Fill you with strength from my inner core, Wipe away your tears burst out in pure joy How I yearn to instill hope and confidence in you we never part And we shall wait, till time comes right. the flame in my soul always seeks you, you transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.

RAGING FIRE

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poem by Praveen Kumar
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The Tale of Gamelyn

Fitt 1

Lithes and listneth and harkeneth aright,
And ye shul here of a doughty knyght;
Sire John of Boundes was his name,
He coude of norture and of mochel game.
Thre sones the knyght had and with his body he wan,
The eldest was a moche schrewe and sone bygan.
His brether loved wel her fader and of hym were agast,
The eldest deserved his faders curs and had it atte last.
The good knight his fadere lyved so yore,
That deth was comen hym to and handled hym ful sore.
The good knyght cared sore sik ther he lay,
How his children shuld lyven after his day.
He had bene wide where but non husbonde he was,
Al the londe that he had it was purchas.
Fayn he wold it were dressed amonge hem alle,
That eche of hem had his parte as it myght falle.
Thoo sente he in to contrey after wise knyghtes
To helpen delen his londes and dressen hem to-rightes.
He sent hem word by letters thei shul hie blyve,
If thei wolle speke with hym whilst he was alyve.

Whan the knyghtes harden sik that he lay,
Had thei no rest neither nyght ne day,
Til thei come to hym ther he lay stille
On his dethes bedde to abide goddys wille.
Than seide the good knyght seke ther he lay,
'Lordes, I you warne for soth, without nay,
I may no lenger lyven here in this stounde;
For thorgh goddis wille deth droueth me to grounde.'
Ther nas noon of hem alle that herd hym aright,
That thei ne had routh of that ilk knyght,
And seide, 'Sir, for goddes love dismay you nought;
God may don boote of bale that is now ywrought.'
Than speke the good knyght sik ther he lay,
'Boote of bale God may sende I wote it is no nay;
But I beseche you knyghtes for the love of me,
Goth and dresseth my londes amonge my sones thre.
And for the love of God deleth not amyss,
And forgeteth not Gamelyne my yonge sone that is.
Taketh hede to that oon as wel as to that other;
Seelde ye seen eny hier helpen his brother.'

Thoo lete thei the knyght lyen that was not in hele,
And wenten into counselle his londes for to dele;
For to delen hem alle to on that was her thought.
And for Gamelyn was yongest he shuld have nought.
All the londe that ther was thei dalten it in two,
And lete Gamelyne the yonge without londe goo,

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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 3.

SCENE I.-- Adam and Eve.

Oh, my beloved companion!
Oh thou of my existence,
The very heart and soul!
Hast thou, with such excess of tender haste,
With ceaseless pilgrimage,
To find again thy Adam,
Thus solitary wandered?
Behold him! Speak! what are thy gentle orders?
Why dost thou pause? what ask of God? what dost thou?

Eve. Adam, my best beloved!
My guardian and my guide!
Thou source of all my comfort, all my joy!
Thee, thee alone I wish,
And in these pleasing shades
Thee only have I sought.

Adam. Since thou hast called thy Adam,
(Most beautiful companion),
The source and happy fountain of thy joy;
Eve, if to walk with me
It now may please thee, I will show thee love,
A sight thou hast not seen;
A sight so lovely, that in wonder thou
Wilt arch thy graceful brow.
Look thou, my gentle bride, towards that path,
Of this so intricate and verdant grove,
Where sit the birds embowered;
Just there, where now, with soft and snowy plumes,
Two social doves have spread their wings for flight,
Just there, thou shalt behold, (oh pleasing wonder),
Springing amid the flowers,
A living stream, that with a winding course
Flies rapidly away;
And as it flies, allures
And tempts you to exclaim, sweet river, stay!
Hence eager in pursuit
You follow, and the stream, as it it had
Desire to sport with you,
Through many a florid, many a grassy way,
Well known to him, in soft concealment flies:
But when at length he hears,
You are afflicted to have lost his sight,
He rears his watery locks, and seems to say,
Gay with a gurgling smile,
'Follow! ah, follow still my placid course!
If thou art pleased with me, with thee I sport.
And thus with sweet deceit he leads you on

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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To My Godchild Alice

ALICE, Alice, little Alice,
My new-christened baby Alice,
Can there ever rhymes be found
To express my wishes for thee
In a silvery flowing, worthy
Of that silvery sound?
Bonnie Alice, Lady Alice,
Sure, this sweetest name must be
A true omen to thee, Alice,
Of a life's long melody.

Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou prove a golden chalice,
Filled with holiness like wine:
With rich blessings running o'er
Yet replenished evermore
From a fount divine:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this future comes to thee,
In thy young life's brimming chalice
Keep some drops of balm for me!

Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou grow a goodly palace,
Fitly framed from roof to floors,
Pure unto the inmost centre,
While high thoughts like angels enter
At the open doors:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this beauteous sight I see,
In thy woman-heart's wide palace
Keep one nook of love for me.

Alice, Alice, little Alice,--
Sure the verse halts out of malice
To the thoughts it feebly bears,
And thy name's soft echoes, ranging
From quaint rhyme to rhyme, are changing
Into silent prayers.
God be with thee, little Alice,
Of His bounteousness may He
Fill the chalice, build the palace,
Here, unto eternity!

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Paradise Lost: Book X

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
Accept me, and in mee from these receave
The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
Those pure immortal Elements that know

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poem by John Milton
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Rumble in the jungle

Give us some poetry?
Me, we..?
These are the words;
Of Muhammad Ali..!

Ali—baba-booyah! Ali
The emperor of Horus
Sang back the chorus…
Ali—baba-booyah!
Ali—baba-booyah!
Ali—baba-booyah!

The peoples Champion!
A roaring catlike, lion
with long-legs of lynxes
a king of all… the Cobras
With a right leading, paw...
His arm like a ripsaw...
And with words of combat
He was like a buzzing black, gnat...
In the ear of an iron wall-
0f fury, surely, he’s only a Meatball.

Said he a half-crazed; George Forman
He isn’t there, American, Tarzan
surely he isn’t their hero’ this? Muhammad Ali...

Ail—baba-booyah! Ali
The emperor of Horus
Sang back they in chorus
Ali—baba-booyah!
Ali—baba-booyah!
Ali—baba-booyah!

Hellfire’s sharpened inside a mountain beast:
Whose instincts weren’t yet that of a baptized priest?

This only unleashed a thuggish bears raging guffaws…
In a taciturn of natural, laws.
A trudging elephant goes, sleeping…
Wearily on the ropes—he’s just waiting
Tobacco chewing the brawlers
Heart weakening boulders.
His heart thrashing leaf shredding soul…
All this is compounding so all his admirers’ console!
Muhammad Ali...

Ali—baba-booyah! Ali
The emperor of Horus
Sang back in chorus

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poem by Mark Heathcote
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.

SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.

Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.

FIRST Angel.

Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.

SECOND Angel.

How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.

THIRD Angel.

O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.

FOURTH Angel.

Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,

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poem by William Cowper
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Alice Deejay

Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
I close my eyes
Im music
Im rhythm
Im a dj, I am alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
I close my eyes
Im music
Im rhythm
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
Im a dj, alice deejay
I am alice deejay

song performed by Alice Deejay
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paradise Lost: Book 11

Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn
From his displeasure; in whose look serene,
When angry most he seemed and most severe,
What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?
So spake our father penitent; nor Eve
Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell
Before him reverent; and both confessed
Humbly their faults, and pardon begged; with tears
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.
Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood
Praying; for from the mercy-seat above
Prevenient grace descending had removed
The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerate grow instead; that sighs now breathed
Unutterable; which the Spirit of prayer
Inspired, and winged for Heaven with speedier flight
Than loudest oratory: Yet their port
Not of mean suitors; nor important less
Seemed their petition, than when the ancient pair
In fables old, less ancient yet than these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore
The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heaven their prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious winds
Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they passed
Dimensionless through heavenly doors; then clad
With incense, where the golden altar fumed,
By their great intercessour, came in sight
Before the Father's throne: them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See$ Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung
From thy implanted grace in Man; these sighs
And prayers, which in this golden censer mixed
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring;
Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those
Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees
Of Paradise could have produced, ere fallen
From innocence. Now therefore, bend thine ear
To supplication; hear his sighs, though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let me
Interpret for him; me, his advocate
And propitiation; all his works on me,
Good, or not good, ingraft; my merit those
Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay.
Accept me; and, in me, from these receive
The smell of peace toward mankind: let him live

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poem by John Milton
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Hooray! Hooray!

Un lugar halle yo junto al mar
Ali, ali, ho
Si tu quieres ir te llevare
Ali, ali, ho
Hay un manantial que es de cristal
Ali, ali, ho
Tu conmigo ven te escondere
Ali, ali, ho
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Para todos es sensacional
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Tienes que cantar tu ya lo ves
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy la fiesta es
Por el campo vas y correras
Ali, ali, ho
Las estrellas hoy nos guiaran
Ali, ali, ho
Yo contigo ire sin temor
Ali, ali, ho
Al lugar auqel te voy a amar
Ali, ali, ho
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Para todos es sensacional
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Tienes que cantar tu ya lo ves
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy la fiesta es

song performed by Ricky Martin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hooray! Hooray! Its A Holi-holiday

Un lugar halle yo junto al mar
Ali, ali, ho
Si tu quieres ir te llevare
Ali, ali, ho
Hay un manantial que es de cristal
Ali, ali, ho
Tu conmigo ven te escondere
Ali, ali, ho
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Para todos es sensacional
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Tienes que cantar tu ya lo ves
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy la fiesta es
Por el campo vas y correras
Ali, ali, ho
Las estrellas hoy nos guiaran
Ali, ali, ho
Yo contigo ire sin temor
Ali, ali, ho
Al lugar auqel te voy a amar
Ali, ali, ho
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Para todos es sensacional
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy es, hoy es,
Una fiesta sin igual
Tienes que cantar tu ya lo ves
Hoy la fiesta es
Hoy la fiesta es

song performed by Ricky Martin
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Beast: Chapter Two

She walked through the door
looking back only to see him fade
into the crowd of students
pouring across the plaza in front of the auditorium.

She watched him recede
vowing
that she would make a point of finding out
more about him.

There was the freshman boat ride in a few days
there was her next opportunity.

Suddenly a voice said:

'Wow, that was chemistry
if I have ever seen chemistry.'

It was Nancy, Nicole's roommate.

They had first met only the day before
when Nicole had arrived at the college for the week long orientation
which included of course
meeting one's roommate.

Nancy was already there in the room
when Nicole arrived her bags in hand
looking to see where she would she might spend the next four years of her life.

The two eyed each other momentarily
quickly sizing each other up after some long seconds
deciding that they liked one another.

Nancy was there on an academic scholarship
just like Nicole and they had been paired together
probably because they had somethings in common.

They seemed to be each other's type,
studious, quiet
and had settled in with each other comfortably.

Nancy falling in beside Nicole
was talking and saying:

'Who was that beautiful blond guy you were talking to. When he put his hands on you I almost died.'
Nancy was gushing.

'Blond? ' Nicole said, blankly? 'Who are you talking about? '

'You know the big blond who opened the door for you looking deep deep into your eyes, ' Nancy said giving Nicole her best dreamy-eyed girl look.

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Alyson

Talk about life, imitating art
Well I was sure that I heard the director yell,
Take it from the start
And I could feel my body crushing yours
Camera dollied into place
Your husbands in the front row, I couldnt look him in the face
Part of the pleasure was that it felt so wrong
But it grew too fast, too strong
Dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Theyre blaming it all on me
Im blaming it all on love
Well dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Just a little sexual tension
Under the guise of love
Young and tragic, I really felt the part
While we were sweating and screaming tearin out his heart
Well I was sure I heard the wind and the wires
Crying in sympathy
For star-crossed lovers, ally that aint you or me
Part of the pleasure was that it felt so wrong
But it grew too fast, too strong
Dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Theyre blaming it all on me
Im blaming it all on love
Well dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Just a little sexual tension
Under the guise of love
For a limited run in to your local bedroom
We knew the curtain would be coming down soon
Reviews were mixed, the press was unkind
Ally I hope they will forgive us in time, in time
Part of the attraction was that we knew it couldnt last
So we closed our eyes and held on
Dont you thing your friends are talking alyson?
Who were we trying to fool?
What was I thinking of?
Dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Theyre blaming it all on me
Im blaming it all on love
Well dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Just a little sexual tension
Under the guise of love

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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After The Fox

Who is the fox - I am the fox
Who are you - I am me
Who is me - Me is a thief
You'll bring your poor, poor mother grief
So after the fox, after the fox
Off to the hunt with chains and locks
So after the fox, after the fox
Someone is always chasing after the fox
Where is the gold - It's on the truck
Where's the truck - I won't tell
You must tell - Then I will lie
You'll make your poor, poor sister cry
So after the fox, after the fox
Off to the hunt with chains and locks
So after the fox, after the fox
Someone is always chasing after the fox
Why do you steal - So I'll be rich
Why not work - Work is hard
You'll be caught - I never fail
All little crooks wind up in jail - Not me not me
So after the fox, after the fox
Off to the hunt with chains and locks
So after the fox, after the fox
Someone is always chasing after the fox
After the fox
After the fox
After the fox

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesly

Part the First

Mery it was in the grene forest
Amonge the leves grene,
Wheras men hunt east and west,
Wyth bowes and arrowes kene,

To ryse the dere out of theyr denne,
Suche sightes hath ofte bene sene,
As by thre yemen of the north countrey,
By them it is I meane.

The one of them hight Adam Bel,
The other Clym of the Clough,
The thyrd was William of Cloudesly,
An archer good ynough.

They were outlawed for venyson,
These yemen everychone;
They swore them brethren upon a day,
To Englyshe-wood for to gone.

Now lith and lysten, gentylmen,
That of myrthes loveth to here:
Two of them were single men,
The third had a wedded fere.

Wyllyam was the wedded man,
Muche more then was hys care:
He sayde to hys brethren upon a day,
To Carleile he would fare,

For to speke with fayre Alyce his wife,
And with hys chyldren thre.
'By my trouth,' sayde Adam Bel,
'Not by the counsell of me.

'For if ye go to Carleile, brother,
And from thys wylde wode wende,
If the justice may you take,
Your lyfe were at an ende.'

'If that I come not to-morrowe, brother,
By pryme to you agayne,
Truste you then that I am 'taken,'
Or else that I am slayne.'

He toke hys leave of hys brethren two,
And to Carleile he is gon;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Sir Peter Harpdon's End

In an English Castle in Poictou. Sir Peter Harpdon, a Gascon knight in the English service, and John Curzon, his lieutenant.

John Curzon

Of those three prisoners, that before you came
We took down at St. John's hard by the mill,
Two are good masons; we have tools enough,
And you have skill to set them working.

Sir Peter

So-
What are their names?

John Curzon

Why, Jacques Aquadent,
And Peter Plombiere, but-

Sir Peter

What colour'd hair
Has Peter now? has Jacques got bow legs?

John Curzon

Why, sir, you jest: what matters Jacques' hair,
Or Peter's legs to us?

Sir Peter

O! John, John, John!
Throw all your mason's tools down the deep well,
Hang Peter up and Jacques; they're no good,
We shall not build, man.

John Curzon

going.

Shall I call the guard
To hang them, sir? and yet, sir, for the tools,
We'd better keep them still; sir, fare you well.

[...] Read more

poem by William Morris
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[intro]

Yo, my name is Taquell A.K.A Baby Poppa
Told ya I know ali
Yall thought I was playin
I told yall I know the Lunatics
Leezy, Nelly, Spud, Murph AND Kyjuan man
I know all of em since '99
Before Country Grammar before the Free City album
And now, Big Lee got that Heavy Starch out in the streets
It's over fo' real
Now next time Baby Poppa tell you somethin
You better listen
So keep your ears open cuz it's Ali
Heavy Starch let's go
Yo, Ali, Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch
Say it again
Heavy Starch
Do it like we do Heavy Starch Big Lee
Big Leezy fo sheezie with Heavy Starcheezy
What's up Ali
Hey Ali Heavy Starch
Peace to Ali comin from Son keepin it real, luv
Yo what's up Ali
Shouts out to Big Lee yea
Ali
Heavy Starch
What's up Ali
Heavy Starch
Big Leezy with the Heavy Starch
What's crack-a-lackin Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch
What's up Ali
Heavy Starch
Hi Ali Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch Big Lee
Big Lee Heavy Starch, Heavy Heavy Heavy Starch hahaha one luv
Right on Ali Right on Heavy Starch
Ali Heavy Starch, whatever you do dirty, keep it St. Louis

song performed by Eels
Added by Lucian Velea
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The More Modern Ballad of Chevy Chace

God prosper long our noble king,
Our liffes and safetyes all;
A woefull hunting once there did
In Chevy-Chace befall.

To drive the deere with hound and horne,
Erle Percy took his way;
The child may rue that is unborne
The hunting of that day.

The sout Erle of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,
His pleasure in the Scottish woods
Three summers days to take;

The cheefest harts in Chevy-Chase
To kill and beare away:
These tydings to Erle Douglas came,
In Scotland where he lay.

Who sent Erle Percy present word,
He wold prevent his sport;
The English Erle not fearing that,
Did to the woods resort,

With fifteen hundred bow-men bold,
All chosen men of might,
Who knew full well in time of neede
To ayme their shafts arright.

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran,
To chase the fallow deere;
On Munday they began to hunt,
Ere day-light did appeare;

And long before high noone they had
An hundred fat buckes slaine;
Then having din'd, the drovyers went
To rouze the deare againe.

The bow-men mustered on the hills,
Well able to endure;
Theire backsides all, with speciall care,
That day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
The nible deere to take,
That with their cryes the hills an dales
An eccho shrill did make.

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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Buckingham Palace

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Added by Poetry Lover
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