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Batkid Begins

Cast: Teresa Clovicko, Audrey Copper, Katie Cotton, Ama Daetz, Mike DeJesus, Eric Johnston, Sue Graham Johnston, Mike Jutan

trailer for Batkid Begins, directed by Dana Nachman (2015)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Telemaniaco / Tele Maniac

Un cavernícola golpea a su amada / A caveman hits his lover
y se la lleva de los pelos a la cueva / and it takes it to him from the hair to the cave
no se preocupe no ha pasado nada / don't worry it has not passed anything
el noticiero de las nueve lo comprueba / the news report of nine o'clock checks it

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Me siento bién definitivamente / I feel so good definitively
necesitaba esa dosis de novelas / I really needed that dosis of novels
ya he llorado por cuatro horas y media / I´ve been crying for four hours and a half
ahora cambio para ver una comedia / and now I´m change to see some comedy

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Los dibujitos animados son lo máximo / The cartoons are the maximum thing
me gusta verlos una y otra vez / I like to see them an and another time
luego con mis amigotes los imito / later with my pals I imitate them
y hacemos gala de nuestra inmadurez / and we make Gallic of our immaturity

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Las heroínas buscando chicos malos / The heroines looking for bad boys
los chicos malos buscando diversión / the bad boys looking for amusement
los superhéroes volando por los cielos / the superheros flying for the skies
las chicas pierden sus ligas en el bronx / the girls lose their suspenders in the bronx

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Cómo me aburro estudiando y trabajando / How I get bored studying and working
con mis papeles y con el profesor / with my papers and with the professor
tan solo quiero volver corriendo a casa / all I want is to return running home
para sentarme frente al televisor / to sit down in front of the television

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

[...] Read more

poem by Ramiro 2 Burgos
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part III.

The great farm house of Malcolm Graem stood
Square shoulder'd and peak roof'd upon a hill,
With many windows looking everywhere;
So that no distant meadow might lie hid,
Nor corn-field hide its gold--nor lowing herd
Browse in far pastures, out of Malcolm's ken.
He lov'd to sit, grim, grey, and somewhat stern,
And thro' the smoke-clouds from his short clay pipe
Look out upon his riches; while his thoughts
Swung back and forth between the bleak, stern past,
And the near future, for his life had come
To that close balance, when, a pendulum,
The memory swings between me 'Then' and 'Now';
His seldom speech ran thus two diff'rent ways:
'When I was but a laddie, this I did';
Or, 'Katie, in the Fall I'll see to build
'Such fences or such sheds about the place;
'And next year, please the Lord, another barn.'
Katie's gay garden foam'd about the walls,
'Leagur'd the prim-cut modern sills, and rush'd
Up the stone walls--and broke on the peak'd roof.
And Katie's lawn was like a Poet's sward,
Velvet and sheer and di'monded with dew;
For such as win their wealth most aptly take
Smooth, urban ways and blend them with their own;
And Katie's dainty raiment was as fine
As the smooth, silken petals of the rose;
And her light feet, her nimble mind and voice,
In city schools had learn'd the city's ways,
And grafts upon the healthy, lonely vine
They shone, eternal blossoms 'mid the fruit.
For Katie had her sceptre in her hand
And wielded it right queenly there and here,
In dairy, store-room, kitchen--ev'ry spot
Where women's ways were needed on the place.
And Malcolm took her through his mighty fields,
And taught her lore about the change of crops;
And how to see a handsome furrow plough'd;
And how to choose the cattle for the mart;
And how to know a fair day's work when done;
And where to plant young orchards; for he said,
'God sent a lassie, but I need a son--
'Bethankit for His mercies all the same.'
And Katie, when he said it, thought of Max--
Who had been gone two winters and two springs,
And sigh'd, and thought, 'Would he not be your son?'
But all in silence, for she had too much
Of the firm will of Malcolm in her soul
To think of shaking that deep-rooted rock;
But hop'd the crystal current of his love

[...] Read more

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part VI.

'Who curseth Sorrow knows her not at all.
Dark matrix she, from which the human soul
Has its last birth; whence, with its misty thews,
Close-knitted in her blackness, issues out;
Strong for immortal toil up such great heights,
As crown o'er crown rise through Eternity,
Without the loud, deep clamour of her wail,
The iron of her hands; the biting brine
Of her black tears; the Soul but lightly built
of indeterminate spirit, like a mist
Would lapse to Chaos in soft, gilded dreams,
As mists fade in the gazing of the sun.
Sorrow, dark mother of the soul, arise!
Be crown'd with spheres where thy bless'd children dwell,
Who, but for thee, were not. No lesser seat
Be thine, thou Helper of the Universe,
Than planet on planet pil'd!--thou instrument,
Close-clasp'd within the great Creative Hand!'

* * * * *

The Land had put his ruddy gauntlet on,
Of Harvest gold, to dash in Famine's face.
And like a vintage wain, deep dy'd with juice,
The great moon falter'd up the ripe, blue sky,
Drawn by silver stars--like oxen white
And horn'd with rays of light--Down the rich land
Malcolm's small valleys, fill'd with grain, lip-high,
Lay round a lonely hill that fac'd the moon,
And caught the wine-kiss of its ruddy light.
A cusp'd, dark wood caught in its black embrace
The valleys and the hill, and from its wilds,
Spic'd with dark cedars, cried the Whip-poor-will.
A crane, belated, sail'd across the moon;
On the bright, small, close link'd lakes green islets lay,
Dusk knots of tangl'd vines, or maple boughs,
Or tuft'd cedars, boss'd upon the waves.
The gay, enamell'd children of the swamp
Roll'd a low bass to treble, tinkling notes
Of little streamlets leaping from the woods.
Close to old Malcolm's mills, two wooden jaws
Bit up the water on a sloping floor;
And here, in season, rush'd the great logs down,
To seek the river winding on its way.
In a green sheen, smooth as a Naiad's locks,
The water roll'd between the shudd'ring jaws--
Then on the river level roar'd and reel'd--
In ivory-arm'd conflict with itself.
'Look down,' said Alfred, 'Katie, look and see
'How that but pictures my mad heart to you.

[...] Read more

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Peggy Sue

If you knew a-peggy sue
Then youd know why I feel blue
My peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, yes I love you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Oh how my heart yearns for you
Oh peggy--my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, yes I love you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue
Oh peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I need you, peggy sue
I love you, peggy sue
With a love so rare and true
Oh peggy--my-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue
My peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
(pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue)

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part I.

Max plac'd a ring on little Katie's hand,
A silver ring that he had beaten out
From that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wage
For boyish labour, kept thro' many years.
'See, Kate,' he said, 'I had no skill to shape
Two hearts fast bound together, so I grav'd
Just K. and M., for Katie and for Max.'
'But, look; you've run the lines in such a way,
That M. is part of K., and K. of M.,'
Said Katie, smiling. 'Did you mean it thus?
I like it better than the double hearts.'
'Well, well,' he said, 'but womankind is wise!
Yet tell me, dear, will such a prophecy
Not hurt you sometimes, when I am away?
Will you not seek, keen ey'd, for some small break
In those deep lines, to part the K. and M.
For you? Nay, Kate, look down amid the globes
Of those large lilies that our light canoe
Divides, and see within the polish'd pool
That small, rose face of yours,--so dear, so fair,--
A seed of love to cleave into a rock,
And bourgeon thence until the granite splits
Before its subtle strength. I being gone--
Poor soldier of the axe--to bloodless fields,
(Inglorious battles, whether lost or won).
That sixteen summer'd heart of yours may say:
''I but was budding, and I did not know
My core was crimson and my perfume sweet;
I did not know how choice a thing I am;
I had not seen the sun, and blind I sway'd
To a strong wind, and thought because I sway'd,
'Twas to the wooer of the perfect rose--
That strong, wild wind has swept beyond my ken--
The breeze I love sighs thro' my ruddy leaves.'
'O, words!' said Katie, blushing, 'only words!
You build them up that I may push them down;
If hearts are flow'rs, I know that flow'rs can root--
'Bud, blossom, die--all in the same lov'd soil;
They do so in my garden. I have made
Your heart my garden. If I am a bud
And only feel unfoldment--feebly stir
Within my leaves: wait patiently; some June,
I'll blush a full-blown rose, and queen it, dear,
In your lov'd garden. Tho' I be a bud,
My roots strike deep, and torn from that dear soil
Would shriek like mandrakes--those witch things I read
Of in your quaint old books. Are you content?'
'Yes--crescent-wise--but not to round, full moon.
Look at yon hill that rounds so gently up
From the wide lake; a lover king it looks,

[...] Read more

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Peggy Sue

(holly / petty / allison)
If you knew, peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue
Without peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With a love so rare and true.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
I want you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With a love so rare and true.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Katie

It may be through some foreign grace,
And unfamiliar charm of face;
It may be that across the foam
Which bore her from her childhood's home,
By some strange spell, my Katie brought,
Along with English creeds and thought --
Entangled in her golden hair --
Some English sunshine, warmth, and air!
I cannot tell -- but here to-day,
A thousand billowy leagues away
From that green isle whose twilight skies
No darker are than Katie's eyes,
She seems to me, go where she will,
An English girl in England still!

I meet her on the dusty street,
And daisies spring about her feet;
Or, touched to life beneath her tread,
An English cowslip lifts its head;
And, as to do her grace, rise up
The primrose and the buttercup!
I roam with her through fields of cane,
And seem to stroll an English lane,
Which, white with blossoms of the May,
Spreads its green carpet in her way!
As fancy wills, the path beneath
Is golden gorse, or purple heath:
And now we hear in woodlands dim
Their unarticulated hymn,
Now walk through rippling waves of wheat,
Now sink in mats of clover sweet,
Or see before us from the lawn
The lark go up to greet the dawn!
All birds that love the English sky
Throng round my path when she is by:
The blackbird from a neighboring thorn
With music brims the cup of morn,
And in a thick, melodious rain
The mavis pours her mellow strain!
But only when my Katie's voice
Makes all the listening woods rejoice
I hear -- with cheeks that flush and pale --
The passion of the nightingale!

Anon the pictures round her change,
And through an ancient town we range,
Whereto the shadowy memory clings
Of one of England's Saxon kings,
And which to shrine his fading fame
Still keeps his ashes and his name.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Timrod
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Peggy Sue

If you knew peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue without peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, gal,
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With that love so rare and true,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Look out!
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue

If you knew peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue without peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, gal,
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With that love so rare and true,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Look out!
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Push

Step 1... step off to the dance floor
Step 1... step off to the dance floor
Push (hey) ((push up on it))
(good God)
Push - lord (push, yeah) ((push up on it))
Every time u get some
People wanna take it back
They rather see u on the run
Than see u get it like that
Every time they stop u
Change up like a sock
Every time they try 2 clock u
Tick more than they tock
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down, yeah
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old
Push
Dont stop until u go
Did u ever stop 2 wonder
Why u put another down?
No man should asunder
The joy that another man found
Maybe bout the business u was worried
Wasnt ever filed in your name
Maybe the cartridge u was playin
Dont fit in your video game
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old, yeah
Push
Dont stop until u go, hey
(alright) I push (push) ((push up on it))
(push) I push (push, push, hey)
(push) (come on and push it now, hey push)
((push up on it)) (push) I push
Every time u get some push
People wanna take it back p-push
They rather see u on the run push
Than see u get it like that
Every time they stop u
Change up like a sock push
Every time they try 2 clock u push
U gotta tick more than they can tock
Push I push

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Katies Been Gone

(by j. r. robertson and r. manuel)
Katies been gone since the spring time;
She wrote one timen sent her love.
Katies been gone for such a long time now.
I wonder what kind of love shes thinkin of.
Dear katie,
If you can hear me,
I cant wait to have ya near me.
Oh, katie, since ya caught that bus,
Well, I just dont know how things are with us.
Im still here and youre out there.
Katie laughed when I said I was lonely.
She said, theres no need tfeel that way.
Katie said that I was her only one,
But then I wonder why she didnt wanna stay.
Dear katie, if Im the only one,
How much longer will you be gone?
Oh, katie, wont ya tell me straight:
How much longer do I have to wait?
Ill believe you,
But please come through.
I know its wrong to be apart this long;
You should be here, near me.
Katies been gone and now her face is slowly fading from my mind.
Shes gone to find some newer places,
Left the old life far behind.
Dear katie, dont ya miss your home?
I dont see why you had to roam.
Dear katie, since youve been away
I lose a little something every day
I need you here, but youre still out there.
Dear katie, please drop me a line,
Just write, love, to tell me youre fine.
Oh, katie, if you can hear me,
I just cant wait to have you near me.
I can only think
Where are you,
What ya do, may be theres someone new.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Eric Clapton

Hear Eric Clapton's got the blues
did he pay his dues
have you heard the news
hear Eric Clapton's got the blues.

Nicknamed old slow hand in band
Eric is the master blues guitar hand
always with his back against the wall
yet Eric Clapton stands noble and tall.

Started out over thirty years ago
his guitar style developed blues flow
an second only too late Jimi Hendrix
Eric played with heavy cream mix.

Through the high times and the bad
sometimes feeling crazy and mad
battling wild destructive stardom scene
taking trips both right and wrong dream.

Road to excess leads to wisdom song
although the road is often long
I'm quoting Eric's favourite line
these words that spring to mine.

Having self confessed addictive personality
is Eric's dark blues self analysis key
but today Eric lets his guitar talk
all the way from London to New York.

Doing the prince charity time trust
each and every year is indeed a must
playing regularly London's Albert Hall
Eric stands tall and isn't about to fall.

Admired by every guitar slinger around
Eric's guitar creates the blues sound
with master blues ace calling card
Eric Clapton plays honest and hard.

And the blues is always played real
let's you have honest emotion to feel
singing about love affairs of the heart
blows all our false pretense apart.

Nineties Eric wears his blues mantle proud
playing his guitar notes inspired and loud
with both subtle and heavy born emotion
laying down blues flavour stylish devotion.

[...] Read more

poem by Wayne Falconer
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Telegrama

Eu tava triste, tristinho.
Mais sem graca que a top model magrela da passarela.
Eu tava s, sozinho.
Mais solitario que um paulistano, que o canastrao na hora que cai o pano.
Tava mais bobo que banda de rock,
que um palhaco do circo Vostok.
Mas ontem eu recebi um telegrama.
Era voce de Aracaju, ou do Alabama,
dizendo: nego, sinta-se feliz!
porque no mundo tem algum que diz,
que muito te ama, que muito te ama, que muito muito te ama, que tanto te ama.
Por isso hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada
de mandar flores ao delegado
de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,
de beijar o portugues da padaria.
Hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada
de mandar flores ao delegado
de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,
de beijar o portugues da padaria.
Mama, oh mama, oh mama
Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa
Mama, oh mama, oh mama
Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa
Eu tava triste, tristinho.
Mais sem graca que a top model magrela da passarela.
Eu tava s, sozinho.
Mais solitario que um paulistano, que um vilao de filme mexicano.
Tava mais bobo que banda de rock,
que um palhaco do circo Vostok.
Mas ontem eu recebi um telegrama.
Era voce de Aracaju, ou do Alabama,
dizendo: nego, sinta-se feliz!
porque no mundo tem algum que diz,
que muito te ama, que muito te ama, que muito muito te ama, que tanto te ama.
Por isso hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada
de mandar flores ao delegado
de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,
de beijar o portugues da padaria.
Hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada
de mandar flores ao delegado
de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,
de beijar o portugues da padaria.
Mama, oh mama, oh mama
Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa
Mama, oh mama, oh mama
Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa

song performed by Zeca Baleiro
Added by Lucian Velea
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part V.

Said the high hill, in the morning: 'Look on me--
'Behold, sweet earth, sweet sister sky, behold
'The red flames on my peaks, and how my pines
'Are cressets of pure gold; my quarried scars
'Of black crevase and shadow-fill'd canon,
'Are trac'd in silver mist. How on my breast
'Hang the soft purple fringes of the night;
'Close to my shoulder droops the weary moon,
'Dove-pale, into the crimson surf the sun
'Drives up before his prow; and blackly stands
'On my slim, loftiest peak, an eagle, with
'His angry eyes set sunward, while his cry
'Falls fiercely back from all my ruddy heights;
'And his bald eaglets, in their bare, broad nest,
'Shrill pipe their angry echoes: ''Sun, arise,
''And show me that pale dove, beside her nest,
''Which I shall strike with piercing beak and tear
''With iron talons for my hungry young.''
And that mild dove, secure for yet a space,
Half waken'd, turns her ring'd and glossy neck
To watch dawn's ruby pulsing on her breast,
And see the first bright golden motes slip down
The gnarl'd trunks about her leaf-deep nest,
Nor sees nor fears the eagle on the peak.

* * * * *

'Aye, lassie, sing--I'll smoke my pipe the while,
'And let it be a simple, bonnie song,
'Such as an old, plain man can gather in
'His dulling ear, and feel it slipping thro'
'The cold, dark, stony places of his heart.'
'Yes, sing, sweet Kate,' said Alfred in her ear;
'I often heard you singing in my dreams
'When I was far away the winter past.'
So Katie on the moonlit window lean'd,
And in the airy silver of her voice
Sang of the tender, blue 'Forget-me-not.'

Could every blossom find a voice,
And sing a strain to me;
I know where I would place my choice,
Which my delight should be.
I would not choose the lily tall,
The rose from musky grot;
But I would still my minstrel call
The blue 'Forget-me-not!'

And I on mossy bank would lie
Of brooklet, ripp'ling clear;

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poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

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poem by Coventry Patmore
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Ang Aming Magulang

Sa isang mag-anak ay meron pa kaya
Na sa ama't ina'y higit pang dakila
Na kahit sa angkang mahirap nagmula
Ang para sa anak, lahat ay ginawa

Sa paaralan ay di man nakatuntong
Mataas na aral di man nagkaroon
Binigyan ang anak ng pagkakataon
Na sa kahirapan ay mangakaahon

Di man napatira sa bahay na mansion
Ng malaking yaman di man nakaipon
Ang yaman nila ay sa anak naroon
Wala sa salapi kundi edukasyon

Ang amin pong ina ay tubong Montalban
At ang aming ama'y San Mateo naman
Ng anim na anak ay biniyayaan
Hanggang sa lumaki'y pawang ginabayan

Sa tamang ugali sila ay hinubog
Marunong magtiis kahit kinakapos
Mga pinalaki na mayroong takot
Sa batas ng tao at batas ng Diyos

Nang ako'y bata pa, natatandaan ko
Ang aming almusal lamang ay kung ano
Pan de sal na simple at walang palaman
Kapeng walang gatas lamang ang kasabay

Kung bakit gano'n lang, di dapat pagtakhan
Ay sadyang matipid ang aming magulang
Di ubos-biyaya kung may tinago man
Ang bukas ang laging pinaghahandaan

At tanda ko pa rin na kapag Deciembre
Sa Divisoria na sila'y namimili
Ng tela, damit at iba pang kalakal
Upang ipamalit ng tag-aning palay

Kaya laging puno yaong aming bangan
May pambentang bigas at panglaman sa tiyan
Hindi man marangya ang hapag kainan
Sumala sa oras, kami'y hindi naman

Noong Second World War, hinuli ng Hapon
Ang aming ama at saka ikinulong
Tumingin sa amin habang wala siya
Ay ang aming ina at wala nang iba

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poem by Pacific Hernandez
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No Thugs In Our House

Cast of characters
Graham, a teenager
Mother, a busy housewife
Father, a conservative husband
Policeman, a young constable
Scene: a kitchen in suburbia, one bright saturday morning
Act one
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. her husband burns his paper, sucks his pipe while studying
Their cushion-floor, his viscous poly-paste breath comes out. their
Wall-paper world is shattered by his shout. a boy in blue is busy
Banging out a headache on the kitchen door. all the while graham
Slept on, dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted
To.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Act two
Narrator: the young policeman who just can't grow a moustache will
Open up his book, and spoil their breakfast with reports of asians who
Have been so badly kicked.
Policeman: is this your son's wallet i've got here? he must have
Dropped it after too much beer!
Mother: oh, officer, we can't believe our little angel is the one
You've picked.
Narrator: and all the while graham slept on, dreaming of a world
Where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Narrator: they never read those pamphlets in his bottom drawer.
Policeman: they never read that tattoo on his arm.
Narrator: they thought that was just a boys club badge he wore.
Policeman: they never thought he'd do folks any harm.
Act three
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. she's singing something stale and simple now this business has
Fizzled out. her little tune is such a happy song. her son is
Innocent, he can't do wrong, 'cos dad's a judge and knows exactly what
The job of judging's all about. and all the while graham slept on,
Dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Mother: no thugs in our house!
Father: no thugs in our house!
Complete cast (in unison): no thugs in our house, dear!

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song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Thugs In Our House

Cast of characters
Graham, a teenager
Mother, a busy housewife
Father, a conservative husband
Policeman, a young constable
Scene: a kitchen in suburbia, one bright saturday morning
Act one
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. her husband burns his paper, sucks his pipe while studying
Their cushion-floor, his viscous poly-paste breath comes out. their
Wall-paper world is shattered by his shout. a boy in blue is busy
Banging out a headache on the kitchen door. all the while graham
Slept on, dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted
To.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Act two
Narrator: the young policeman who just can't grow a moustache will
Open up his book, and spoil their breakfast with reports of asians who
Have been so badly kicked.
Policeman: is this your son's wallet i've got here? he must have
Dropped it after too much beer!
Mother: oh, officer, we can't believe our little angel is the one
You've picked.
Narrator: and all the while graham slept on, dreaming of a world
Where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Narrator: they never read those pamphlets in his bottom drawer.
Policeman: they never read that tattoo on his arm.
Narrator: they thought that was just a boys club badge he wore.
Policeman: they never thought he'd do folks any harm.
Act three
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. she's singing something stale and simple now this business has
Fizzled out. her little tune is such a happy song. her son is
Innocent, he can't do wrong, 'cos dad's a judge and knows exactly what
The job of judging's all about. and all the while graham slept on,
Dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Mother: no thugs in our house!
Father: no thugs in our house!
Complete cast (in unison): no thugs in our house, dear!

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song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Think I Can Beat Mike Tyson

Artist: jazzy jeff & the fresh prince
2 old men:
Hey...hey leroy...leroy
Yeah
Did you hear about that boy mike tyson?
Mike...mike tyson hes the boy
That played football from montreal aint he?
No no you old coop, he a...he a boxer man
Yeah
Let me tell ya I went to his fight a couple months ago.
I seen him hit this boy, and he hit the boy so hard
His head flew off into the eigtheenth row
(laughing)
They had to get his head out of the eighteenth row
[prince & jeff]
I was in jeffs crib one night about eight
And we were watchina couple of mike tyson fight tapes
Jeff was like...
Man, you see how hard mikes punchin?
Come on jeff the other guy was just lungin
Left, right, left, right, another k.o.
If that was me Id a been ok though
The very next day I gave russell a ring
With j.l. and omar we all called don king
I said yeah, don I got a problem
Tell em prince
yeah whats up? what you sayin? you tryin to solve em?
forget the small talk lets get to the nitty gritty
me and mike, two months, trump, atlantic city
Yo, you got this you gonna bust dude up
Yeah, you can be my trainer
Word up?
Im rough like a freight train smooth like ice
And yo jeff, straight up, I think I can mike tyson
Man, you can beat him, you can beat him
Yo man, word up
Yo I put on a couple of pounds man we can do this
You can do it
Newspaper boy, old men:
Extra, extra read all about it
Fresh prince challenges iron mike tyson to a fight
(laughing)
Ah hes crazy
Aint that the boy who knocked the guys head in the fifthteen row?
Hey leroy, you read the paper?
That boy done lost his man
[prince, barber]
There was press conference to see what training I was doing
Before then I had never heard reporters booing
Cameras flashing I was in the middle

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song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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