By mid-November I always like to have an extra 15 pounds on me.
quote by Andrew Schneider
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99 Lbs
Written by: d. bryant
Twenty-five pounds of pure cane sugar
Shes got in each and every kiss
You wouldnt know what Im talking bout
If you never had a love like this
Well, I dont mean to be frank with you all
Its a natural fact
Good things come wrapped up in small, small packages now
Well you cant argue with that
Oh, oh, yeah
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul, oh, oh
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Twenty-five pounds of tenderness
She got in each and every touch
Twenty-five pounds of understanding my woman
cause I was the one running round town worrying too much
Twenty-four pounds of sunday
That I cant see, yeah
And it all adds up to ninety-nine big pounds
Oh, Im talking about a feline friend
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
song performed by Black Crowes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Extra Lovable
I wanna rap a little bit, oh!
Yeah!
Baby, U got somethin' that would make
A many hippie mighty proud
U got a dozen little sexy tricks
That doesn't seem that Miss U.S. would even allow
Never do U boast like the other girls
Who think they found a love 2 flaunt it (I never hear U brag)
And what I dig the most is that U keep it in your hand
Until I, until I, until I want it
CHORUS:
If ever honey U need someone 2 take a shower with girl
Call me up and scream
Extra lovable, honey don't U wanna, don't U wanna
Take a bath with me?
Listen..
Baby, U could turn my mama on
She's just as straight, just as straight as straight can be
Even though my daddy's gone
Come back just 2 haunt U, come back just 2 haunt U mystically
(Yes he will)
Baby, I know my rap is hard
Not as hard as what's behind door (dig it), door number pants
Baby, U're so sure, I'd love 2 see U dancin' naked
Ooh sugar, I wanna see U dance
CHORUS
Don't U wanna get, don't U wanna get off?
Baby, U got something that would make
A many hippie mighty proud (Then play it loud!)
U got a dozen little sexy tricks
That doesn't seem that Miss U.S., ooh, would even allow
Yeah, never do U boast like the other girls
Who think they found a love 2 flaunt it
(Oh, play with this love, yeah, let me tell ya)
What I dig the most is the way that U keep your sugar in your hand
Till I want it
If ever honey U need someone 2 take a shower with mama (There it is)
Call me up and scream
Extra lovable, honey don't U wanna, don't U wanna
Take a bath with me?
Ooh, sugar baby, U're so fine
What say U and me go 2 my place and make some time?
I'm not that popular yet, so if U want, I'm yours
"I don't want anyone 2 see what we're gonna do"
Think U better shut the door
(Ooh!)
Do U know what I'm talkin' about? (I say ooh ooh!)
If U know it, let me hear U say it baby (I say ooh!)
I can't hear U (Ooh ooh!)
Purple politicians, sing it (Ooh!)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Claim To Fame
Talk-talk, yak-yak
Watch you pull that old one track
Get it up and get it back
Making it upon your back
No space, no rent
The moneys gone, its all been spent now
Tell me bout your claim to fame
Now aint that some claim to fame
Extra, extra, read all about it now
Extra, extra, something bout a claim to fame
Ooohhh sweet mama, ooohhh sweet mama
Something bout your claim to fame
Wet lips, dry now
Ready for that old hand out, now
Aint that some claim to fame
Spaced out, spaced in
The heads round, the squares flat
Aint that some claim to fame
Now tell me aint that some claim to fame
Extra, extra, read all about it now
Extra, extra, something, something bout some claim to fame
Ooohhh-wheee sweet mama, extra, extra, something
Something bout your claim to fame
Yeah now
I said now, extra, extra
Something bout your claim to fame
I said now, extra, extra
Something bout your claim to fame
Ooohhh mama, said now, extra, extra
Something bout your claim to fame
Extra, extra, something bout a
About a, about a, something bout your claim to fame
Extra, extra, something bout a
bout a, bout a, something bout your claim to fame
Ooohhh, ooohhh sweet mama
Something bout your claim to fame
Oh, ooohhh sweet mama
Something bout your claim to fame
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Props 'n Pounds
KURT LODER - MTV NEWS:
"Here is someone that's obviously playing rock and roll who is also a
funk artist, who covered a lot of categories that which artists have
been separating for so long and brought them together purposely ... ."
Props n pounds
Props n pounds
Love 4 one another is the only sound 2day
Positivity is the only way
Chorus:
Props n pounds
Props n pounds
Love 4 one another is the only sound 2day
Negative people don't get to play
Props n pounds
Props n pounds
Why you wanna holler when you know what the bible say
Positivity is the only way
Once again when the coin is tossed
And lands upon the sea
Unsuspecting lives are lost
They didn't have to be
When the book is opened
and The Son condemns them all
Pagan holidays,crucifixes
$100 tears will fall
Chorus :
(hey)
(no play)
(you know it)
All the ones still in the game
Never give me pounds
Egotists to proud to say the opposite of found
Worrying about the validity of the rulers crown
When everyone ought 2 be in line giving props n pounds
Chorus:
(hey hey hey)
(ooow)
Props n pounds
Props n pounds
Props n pounds
Once again when the money get tossed
Never gonna see npg floss
Keeping you happy is the only cost
Love God and everyone or your life will be lost
Listen to the words that will save every one
Safe sex campaign talking about a gun
With CON as the prefix, suffix be the DOM
(dumb)
Look at them both and tell me something
What's in the Trojan Horse? Lubrication.
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
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Down Lo Ho (Interlude)
Featuring The Refugee All Stars
I wanna dedicate this song,
gone til november,
to all you ladies out there,
crying all alone in your room,
and all you fellas,
goin down south, and not making it back,
may the lord bless your soul.
Every time I make a run,
girl you turn around and cry,
I ask myself why oh why,
see you must understand,
I cant work a 9 to 5,
so ill be gone til november,
said ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
you tell my girl ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
you tell my girl ill be gone til november,
janurary, feburary, march, april, may,
I see you crying but girl i cant stay,
ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
and give a kiss to my mother,
girl I gotta leave please dont cry,
when I come back you know the limits the sky,
ill take you out to dinner to your favorite spot,
fejuion and fateesion just to get you high,
drive by movies by the cemetary,
if my corps could talk then i'd tell him I was sorry,
life stories of the rich and famous,
some guy with the name some guy name less,
every time I make a run,
girl you turn around and cry,
I ask myself why oh why,
see you must understand,
I cant work a 9 to 5,
so ill be gone til november,
said ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
you tell my girl ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
you tell my girl ill be gone til november,
janurary, feburary, march, april, may,
I see you crying but girl I cant stay,
ill be gone til november,
ill be gone til november,
yo give a kiss to my mother,
[...] Read more
song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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A little extra, from an extra ordinary woman
She goes out of her way and travels that extra mile
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She consoles you, smiles with you, cries with you and for you
A little extra than anyone else
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She spends on you a little extra than she does on her own self
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She uses her extra strength and wisdom to pick you up when you fall
She blinds her sight to your imperfections
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She loves you a little extra just to stand out different
From all those who love you
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She starves herself so that you may eat a little extra
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She forgives you all the time
Even when you guilty mind knows you don’t deserve such kindness
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She may not be the most perfect woman but
She is indeed an extra ordinary woman
She is your mother, your wife, your fiancee, your girlfriend
Your sister, your grandmother and your daughter
You best appreciate her
poem by Grace Mdemu
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Weigh
Id like to cut your head off so I could weigh it, what do ya say?
Five pounds, six, pounds, seven pounds
Id like to go to your house and gather all your razors and pick all the
Little prickly hairs so I can weigh them, what do ya say?
Five pounds, six pounds, seven pounds
Id like to gather all your friends and squish them all into a small
Swimming pool so I can weigh them, what do ya say?
Five pounds, six pounds, seven pounds
Why weigh on a sunny day?
So much to do so why, why weigh?
On a sunny day, why wei-igh-hey?
Why weigh, why weigh?
Id like to hear my options, so I can weigh them, what do ya say?
Five pounds, six pounds, seven pounds
Why weigh on a sunny day?
So much to do, so why, why weigh?
On a sunny day, why wei-gh-hey?
Why
Oh why[x11]
Why weigh?
song performed by Phish
Added by Lucian Velea
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99 Pounds
I tell ya shes a heart breaker
And you cant tell me she aint
Theres a little devil in her
Under all that powder and paint
And she can hang you up every night
And get you so uptight
Shes 99 pounds, I said 99 pounds,
Shes 99 pounds of some kind of dynomite
I tell you half a ton of sugar aint half as sweet as her
She can change and rearrange you
Till you cant tell what you were
And it dont even pay to fight
cause she dont know wrong from right
Shes 99 pounds, I said 99 pounds,
Shes 99 pounds of some kind of dynomite
And she may look like an angel
But shes made out of tnt
Shes a little bitty thing and she ? ? ? ?
Yeah but when she holds you tight
Shes some kind of outa sight
Shes 99 pounds, I said 99 pounds,
I said 99 pounds of some kind of dynomite
I said 99 pounds, I said 99 pounds,
song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nothing Is Wrong
Well how do you do?
Do you like the look of me and you together?
So take me out.
Spill a little drink on your lap
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Well how do you do?
Would you like me to mm, mm, mm-mm, mmmmmm....
I'm not suggesting that I want you, but
I'll take you out,
Spill a little drink down my back and,
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Too much, too soon.
Are you made out of stone,
or are you made out of gold?
I'll be no clearer
when I'm wrinkled and old,
when I'm wrinkled and old.
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't drive you home.
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...Nothing Is Wrong
Well how do you do?
Do you like the look of me and you together?
So take me out.
Spill a little drink on your lap
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Well how do you do?
Would you like me to mm, mm, mm-mm, mmmmmm....
I'm not suggesting that I want you, but
[...] Read more
song performed by Gomez
Added by Lucian Velea
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S-e-x-x-y
Dressed only in clothes
From her head to her toes
This is the way
The talking part goes
S-e-x-x-y
More than enough
Around the clock with nobody else
S-e-x-x-y
There she is
Standing on the bed
Cookie in one hand, wig on her head
S-e-x-x-y
X because its extra baby
Y because its extra baby
Unnoticed by few
Very very few
And that includes you
Look inside your mind
Look inside your eye
Secret agent spy, come to see why
S-e-x-x-y
One finger nail
Across your back
Babys first gold tooth initials inscribed
S-e-x-x-y
X because its extra baby
Y because its extra baby
You gotta understand
She wants to be your man
Shes got another plan
Notes
The infamous warren rigg microwave remix goes as follows:
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y s-e-x-x-y
S-e-x-x-y s-e-x-x-y
[...] Read more
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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November Nights
September nights
Tend to scream
'Baby I thought you
Said you loved me'
October nights
Remind me
Of 'we' the 'us':
So in love.
November nights
November nights
What A fright
November nights
Ending of my present life
Nothing ever seemed so right
I need you by my side
I died, I died on November nights
September nights
what a wonderful thing
My beginning
How Ironic.
My birth day
Our beginning
Oh what a wonderful month
September means love
October nights
Oh so beautiful
Happiness, hope
A whole family
My daddies' birthdays
One here, one deceased
Praised and mourned
Mixed Octobers
November nights
Panic. Thanksgiving.
Thanks for what?
November killed my father
November nights
A car crash
14 years ago
And then you end me
[...] Read more
poem by Gabriella Franco
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November Rain
November rain washed away my guilt
November rain washed away my pain
November rain - so tired I felt
November rain was not just any rain
Long I longed with deep torment
For so long my body waited
November rain, , , , Oh, sweet friend
November rain- slowly I faded.
November rain- I cried within
Steady and slowly, it kept on pouring
November rain, watered my skin
And deep inside, I heard my roaring.
November rain, it refused to quit
November rain kept on pouring
And alone outside, in the streets I wept-
dripping... dripping and falling.
poem by Amy Phillip
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Gone til November
Intro: (spoken)
I dedicate this record, the carnival to all you brothers takin long
Trips down south, virginia, baltimore, all around the world, and your
Girl gets this message that you aint comin back. shes sittin back
In the room, the lights are off, shes cryin, and then my voice comes in
Pow!, in the middle of the night, and this is what I told her for you
Chorus: (sung)
Every time I make a run, girl, you turn around and cry
I ask myself why, oh why
See, you must understand, I cant work a 9 to 5
So Ill be gone til november
Said Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
Yo, tell my girl, yo, Ill be gone til november
Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
Yo, tell my girl, yo, Ill be gone til november
January, february, march, april, may
I see you cryin, but girl, I cant stay
Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
And give a kiss to my mother
Verse 1: (sung)
When I come back, therell be no need to clock
Ill have enough money to buy out blocks
Tell my brother, go to school in september
So he wont mess up in summer school in the summer
Tell my cousin, jerry, wear his condom
If you dont wear condom, youll see a red lump
Woh oh oh oh
You sucker mcs, you got no flow
I heard your style, youre s-o s-o
Repeat chorus
Verse 2: (rap)
I had to flip nuttin and turn it into somethin
Hip-hop turns to the future rock when I smash a punk (bing!)
Commit treason, then Ill have a reason to hunt you down
Its only right, its rappin season
Yeah, you with the loud voice, posin like youre top choice
Your voice, Ill make a hearse out of your rolls royce
Besides, I got my girl to remember
And Ill commit it that Ill be back in november
Repeat chorus
I know the hustles hard, but we gotta enterprise, the carnival
song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gone til November
Intro: (spoken)
I dedicate this record, the carnival to all you brothers takin long
Trips down south, virginia, baltimore, all around the world, and your
Girl gets this message that you aint comin back. shes sittin back
In the room, the lights are off, shes cryin, and then my voice comes in
Pow!, in the middle of the night, and this is what I told her for you
Chorus: (sung)
Every time I make a run, girl, you turn around and cry
I ask myself why, oh why
See, you must understand, I cant work a 9 to 5
So Ill be gone til november
Said Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
Yo, tell my girl, yo, Ill be gone til november
Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
Yo, tell my girl, yo, Ill be gone til november
January, february, march, april, may
I see you cryin, but girl, I cant stay
Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
And give a kiss to my mother
Verse 1: (sung)
When I come back, therell be no need to clock
Ill have enough money to buy out blocks
Tell my brother, go to school in september
So he wont mess up in summer school in the summer
Tell my cousin, jerry, wear his condom
If you dont wear condom, youll see a red lump
Woh oh oh oh
You sucker mcs, you got no flow
I heard your style, youre s-o s-o
Repeat chorus
Verse 2: (rap)
I had to flip nuttin and turn it into somethin
Hip-hop turns to the future rock when I smash a punk (bing!)
Commit treason, then Ill have a reason to hunt you down
Its only right, its rappin season
Yeah, you with the loud voice, posin like youre top choice
Your voice, Ill make a hearse out of your rolls royce
Besides, I got my girl to remember
And Ill commit it that Ill be back in november
Repeat chorus
I know the hustles hard, but we gotta enterprise, the carnival
song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gone Till November
Intro: (spoken)
I dedicate this record, the carnival to all you brothers takin long
Trips down south, virginia, baltimore, all around the world, and your
Girl gets this message that you aint comin back. shes sittin back
In the room, the lights are off, shes cryin, and then my voice comes in
Pow!, in the middle of the night, and this is what I told her for you
Chorus: (sung)
Every time I make a run, girl, you turn around and cry
I ask myself why, oh why
See, you must understand, I cant work a 9 to 5
So Ill be gone til november
Said Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
Yo, tell my girl, yo, Ill be gone til november
Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
Yo, tell my girl, yo, Ill be gone til november
January, february, march, april, may
I see you cryin, but girl, I cant stay
Ill be gone til november, Ill be gone til november
And give a kiss to my mother
Verse 1: (sung)
When I come back, therell be no need to clock
Ill have enough money to buy out blocks
Tell my brother, go to school in september
So he wont mess up in summer school in the summer
Tell my cousin, jerry, wear his condom
If you dont wear condom, youll see a red lump
Woh oh oh oh
You sucker mcs, you got no flow
I heard your style, youre s-o s-o
Repeat chorus
Verse 2: (rap)
I had to flip nuttin and turn it into somethin
Hip-hop turns to the future rock when I smash a punk (bing!)
Commit treason, then Ill have a reason to hunt you down
Its only right, its rappin season
Yeah, you with the loud voice, posin like youre top choice
Your voice, Ill make a hearse out of your rolls royce
Besides, I got my girl to remember
And Ill commit it that Ill be back in november
Repeat chorus
I know the hustles hard, but we gotta enterprise, the carnival
song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Part I
"That oblong book's the Album; hand it here!
Exactly! page on page of gratitude
For breakfast, dinner, supper, and the view!
I praise these poets: they leave margin-space;
Each stanza seems to gather skirts around,
And primly, trimly, keep the foot's confine,
Modest and maidlike; lubber prose o'er-sprawls
And straddling stops the path from left to right.
Since I want space to do my cipher-work,
Which poem spares a corner? What comes first?
'Hail, calm acclivity, salubrious spot!'
(Open the window, we burn daylight, boy!)
Or see—succincter beauty, brief and bold—
'If a fellow can dine On rumpsteaks and port wine,
He needs not despair Of dining well here—'
'Here!' I myself could find a better rhyme!
That bard's a Browning; he neglects the form:
But ah, the sense, ye gods, the weighty sense!
Still, I prefer this classic. Ay, throw wide!
I'll quench the bits of candle yet unburnt.
A minute's fresh air, then to cipher-work!
Three little columns hold the whole account:
Ecarté, after which Blind Hookey, then
Cutting-the-Pack, five hundred pounds the cut.
'Tis easy reckoning: I have lost, I think."
Two personages occupy this room
Shabby-genteel, that's parlor to the inn
Perched on a view-commanding eminence;
———— -Inn which may be a veritable house
Where somebody once lived and pleased good taste
Till tourists found his coign of vantage out,
And fingered blunt the individual mark
And vulgarized things comfortably smooth.
On a sprig-pattern-papered wall there brays
Complaint to sky Sir Edwin's dripping stag;
His couchant coast-guard creature corresponds;
They face the Huguenot and Light o' the World.
Grim o'er the mirror on the mantlepiece,
Varnished and coffined, Salmo ferox glares
—Possibly at the List of Wines which, framed
And glazed, hangs somewhat prominent on peg.
So much describes the stuffy little room—
Vulgar flat smooth respectability:
Not so the burst of landscape surging in,
Sunrise and all, as he who of the pair
Is, plain enough, the younger personage
Draws sharp the shrieking curtain, sends aloft
The sash, spreads wide and fastens back to wall
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Inn Album (1875)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Drummer
1
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of Humanity wrapped in a shroud.
Well he beats of the bone bags Dame Famine's designed
As she ravished and plagued us since dawn of mankind;
And he beats of Lord Boss letting oranges decay
While a child suffers scurvy and passes away;
And he beats of the beasts we've so needlessly slain
And of critters and creatures cast off in distain;
And he beats of combatants who're dying deceived
As the merchants of murder count profits received;
And he beats of the rape and the killing of war
And the mind blinding sorrow we blithely ignore.
He beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
2
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of abuse that we try to becloud.
Well he beats of the barons and princes and kings
Who have broken our backs while crushing our wings
And he beats of the bribes that the powerful make
To key politicians who fawn in their wake;
And he beats of the waifs bound and chained to machines
And of slaves in the fields and other such scenes;
And he beats of decrees stating all men are free
While ignoring the blacks and their agonised plea;
And he beats of the tyrants in clerical garb
Who have tortured with faggots and thumbscrews and barb.
He beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
3
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud.
Well he beats of the spirit the rack couldn't break,
And the flame of the flesh that was burned at the stake;
And he beats of the minds that could never be chained
By the faith that was living while ignorance reigned;
And he beats of the struggles when Spartacus rose
Having tired of shackles and slavery's woes;
And he beats of the women who'll die to be freed
And will never give up till they finally succeed;
And he beats of the progress outliving the jeers
So belying the pessimist's fatuous sneers.
He beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
4
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
[...] Read more
poem by Terry O'Leary
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A Day At Tivoli - Prologue
Fair blows the breeze—depart—depart—
And tread with me th' Italian shore;
And feed thy soul with glorious art;
And drink again of classic lore.
Nor sometime shalt thou deem it wrong,
When not in mood too gravely wise,
At idle length to lie along,
And quaff a bliss from bluest skies.
Or, pleased more pensive joy to woo,
At twilight eve, by ruin grey,
Muse o'er the generations, who
Have passed, as we must pass, away.
Or mark o'er olive tree and vine
Steep towns uphung; to win from them
Some thought of Southern Palestine;
Some dream of old Jerusalem.
Come, Pilgrim-Friend! At last our sun outbreaks,
And chases, one by one, dawn's lingering flakes.
Come, Pilgrim-Friend! and downward let us rove
(Thy long-vow'd vow) this old Tiburtian grove.
See where, beneath, the jocund runnels play,
All cheerly brighten'd in the brightening day.
E'en in the far-off years when Flaccus wrote,
('Tis here, I ween, no pedantry to quote,)
Thus led, they gurgled thro' those orchard-bowers
To feed the herb—the fruitage—and the flowers.
Come, then, and snatch Occasion; transient boon!
And sliding into Future all too soon.
That Future's self possession just as brief,
And stolen, soon as given, by Time—the Thief.
Well! if such filching knave we needs must meet,
Let us, as best we may, the Cheater cheat;
And, since the Then, the Now, will flit so fast,
Look back, and lengthen life into the Past.
That Past is here; where old Tiburtus found
Mere mountain-brow, and fenc'd with walls around;
And for his wearied Argives reared a home
Long ere yon seven proud hills had dream'd of Rome.
'Tis here, amid these patriarch olive trees,
Which Flaccus saw, or ancestry of these;
Oft musing, as he slowly strayed him past,
How here his quiet age should close at last.
And here behold them, still! Like ancient seers
They stand; the dwellers of a thousand years.
Deep-furrow'd, strangely crook'd, and ashy-grey,
[...] Read more
poem by John Kenyon
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poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The pilgrimage to Mecca
What holy rites Mohammed's laws ordain,
What various duties bind his faithful train,--
What pious zeal his scatter'd tribes unites
In fix'd observance of these holy rites,--
At Mecca's shrine what votive crowds surround
With annual pomp the consecrated ground,--
The muse shall tell:--revolving years succeed,
And Time still venerates Mohammed's creed.
Nor faint the glory shed o'er Mecca's brow:
Land of the Prophet! known to fame art thou.
Here first in peace his infant hopes were known,
Here fix'd the Chief his Temple and his Throne:
Though from thy gates opposing factions here
With stern defiance drove the gifted Seer;
Yet, sacred City of his love! 'twas thine
To heap the earliest incense on his shrine;
To own the terrors of his conq'ring blade,
And hail with joy the Exile thou hadst made.
Yes--thou art known to fame! to thee, 'tis said,
A voice divine the wand'ring Abram led:
Within thy courts, at his command restor'd,
Blaz'd the pure altars of Creation's Lord.
And hence thy race, for ancient faith renown'd,
Surpassing favour with Mohammed found;
His seat of Empire hence thy walls became,
And shar'd, for sanctity, Mohammed's fame,
Nor strange that hence, with pious gifts array'd,
Thy shrine rever'd the Moslem tribes invade;
Such duteous zeal the Prophet's laws demand,
And fabled raptures of his promis'd land.
For woe to him, who ne'er with awe profound,
At Mecca's shrine, hath kiss'd the holy ground:
For him, denied celestial joys to share,
No blooming Houris shall his couch prepare;
But his the doom, where countless horrors reign,
To feel a dark eternity of pain;
Of deep remorse the bitter tear to shed,
Each hope of Paradise for ever fled.
Behold! one impulse every heart enthralls;
Wide spreads the fervour 'mid Byzantium's walls:--
Where, proudly soaring, frown from Europe's coast
Her regal tow'rs o'er Asia's subject host,
With mingling crowds behold the darken'd lands,
And the wild tumult of assembling bands;
So vast the force, 'twould seem, with ire renew'd,
His warrior train Byzantium's Lord review'd;
[...] Read more
poem by George Canning
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