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Dancing Carrier

Ups and down
Perhaps fleeing down
But somewhere don’t know
Where have to go
Nothing else is proportion
Go for the interview
but not suitable in hr view
return home empty hand
only one is my option
go on and come on
thoughts give a mission
night passed away in making planning
night come again after intolerable conflicting

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Don't Know If I'm Comin' Or Goin'

Lee Wainer / Lupin Fien
You've got me on the road
Runnin' to and fro
Lookin' high and low
I don't know if I'm coming or going
Since I fell for you
I run up across the town
Chasing up and down
Having you around
I don't know if I'm coming or going
Since I fell for you

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Shoestring as a Necktie and I hurried for the interview

Jumped into the doubledecker
And go to the Lunatic Asylum
For the Security Officer interview,
An old Man seated beside me, smiled
And he's very familiar.
'Hey! Young boy you must be working to a space project
I can trace from your face if I am not mistaken?
Where were all these night stars
Hide in daytime? '
Both of us got down at the same bus stop!
He proceeded to the outpatient ward
And I stood in front of the office.

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Walking Down The Hill

Walking down this hill tonight
I had a thought all to myself
As I contemplated the moonlight
We've got it all, we've got it made
I don't know how I got here
But I'm holding on for the crash
Pull myself out of the moon
I know I'll never go there but
It's shining down from up on high
We got it made, we got it made
I don't know what we gotta make
Sooner or later lay down
We're apart, go to pieces
Why not go to sleep
Look into my heart, oh baby
Don't become a part of the past
You can be a part of the keep
Don't turn away, don't run away
Don't leave me hanging by a thread
Shine a little love down on me
We're in love, make your peace
Wasting time is all you need
Walking down this hill tonight
I had a thought it was my own
Moon swept by the clouds and save the starlight
Or shall I be or shall I not be
I don't know I just don't
Feel like it tonight

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Patrick White

And I Don't Know If I Succeed

And I dont know if I succeed myself
in every moment, a hereditary dynasty;
are ashes the continuum of fire, sorrow
the natural legator of joy, one thought
the progenitor of the next? How
can the mirror reflect itself
unless all things are mirrors
drinking from their own faces; unless
there are roses even as we speak
growing the eyelids and lips
of young women elegant
as eighteenth century herons and willows,
a poet who once dedicated himself like rain
to the battered body of the moon,
trying to turn his visions into atmospheres
that she might breathe again,
that the atrocity of her nakedness
might be clothed in orchids and grass
that shuddered in the gentle foreplay of the wind,
now bagging grams like the loaves and fishes
of a street messiah? In a world
where it is always autumn for the children
who wither and twist like brittle leaves
in the arms of desecrated mothers
whose wombs are trivial catastrophes, the flesh
of their emaciate sons and daughters
buried like shoes in short graves
pathetic with flowers, is art, is God, is love
merely the dodge and deceit
of the bored and obese, these
metaphors and symbols, this search
for a truce among these unknown factions
on which I ruin myself
in minor holy wars against ferocious kennels,
only the debauchery and douche
of a mystic luxury
that refuses to see the moon and the earth
for what they are, a blood-stained rock
beside a shattered skull? I love
the orange trollops of the wild honeysuckle
and the open palm of summer stars
that comes in the night for a reading,
I love the negligent beauty of the high fields
and the radiant empires of time
that suggest I was not always thus
in the all-night laundromats
that pry through my dirty linen
out of the corner of their small town eyes
to see if I’m deranged or dangerous, but how many times
in a mudpack of disgust and laughter
who has not reviled the self-indulgent facials
that estrange them from the truth
of what they fear they have become,
a pampered sin of omission
looking for the words to enroll their emptiness
in a night school for working corpses?

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I Don't Know If You Knew

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel happy
Remembering those fun moments we had together
How it would bring me joy to make you laugh
To make you smile - Bright up your day
How I would enjoy seeing you every day
Having long conversations together
How it would please me to pleasure you
Make you feel like a queen - Treat you like royalty

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I yearn
Remembering that amazing friendship we shared
Shocked at how horridly it suddenly ended
Shocked at how cold you treated me
I yearn for that strong friendship we shared
Like no other - Like every other
I sometimes ask myself why it is that I still do
After finding out your true self
I guess I'm just a fool - Loved you too much

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel love
Thinking of you - Your beauty
Feeling that there's no other girl out there
Which could ever replace you
Or one to share the same love I share for you
I don't know why I loved you so much
Or is it love? - I just don't know any more

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I try to negotiate
Thinking that I could change
Change for the better
Become the man you want me to be
Get in shape - Be more fancy
Maybe one day you'd come to realise
That you've made a terrible mistake
And that one day, you'll want to make amends

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel confused
Not knowing whether I still feel for you
But in the end knowing that deep down
I never stopped loving you - Caring for you
I try to tell others that I stopped loving you
Sometimes I even try to fool myself that I just don't care
But it's hard to fool your own heart - Possibly impossible

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel in denial
Feeling that there's still a chance
I could still fix things - I'd think
It's not too late - I'd assure myself
We could still be close - As friends, of course
I could supress my feelings for you
It's ok - I'd do anything for you

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel hate
Remembering all the sacrifices I made for you
How unappreciative you were, are
I cant believe I fell for you
I'd love to know what I saw in you
Never have I been able to explain
Not to me - Not to anyone
I wish you had just acted cold from the start
Instead of leading me on for so long
What a fool I was, am

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel sad
Sad that I never lived up to your expectations
Sad that I could never be the man you wanted
The man of your dreams - Your fantasies
Remembering the times when I was wrong
Causing you to feel sad - Disappointing you
But in the end there was nothing I could do
I just wasn't good enough for you

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel forgiveness
Forgiving you for the way you treated me
How you handled the situation - Handled me
You just don't know how to handle these situations
Guys who have feelings for you - Or better yet,
Are madly in love with you - You just don't know
But it's ok - I'd say to myself
It's not your fault - I forgive you

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel regret
Remembering the first day I ever met you
Wishing I could just go back
Reversing everything that happened
Stopping me from going through this pain
Avoiding getting my heart crushed like no other
Not having to spend every day
Wishing that I never felt for you
Wishing that I had never fallen for you

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
Sometimes I feel angry
Remembering the way you treated me after
How furious it would make me
Knowing that what we had was all over
Sometimes I wouldn't be able to help it
The anger just gets to me
Sometimes I scream - Sometimes I swear
Sometimes I hit things - Sometimes I throw them

I don't know if you knew
But sometimes I think of you
I guess I've been thinking about you a lot
It's already been seven weeks
I don't know why I've been counting
But I guess I have
But I guess you know that by now

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I Don't Know Where

I don't know where my toilet goes and,
I don't know where my water comes from;
Because this is all about the sewage system!

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He Think I Don't Know

And he think I don't know
He think I don't know
And he think I don't know
He think I don't know
I don't know what gets me more
'Bout your two hour trips to the store
How they never have what you went there for
Yet you say to trust you more
Or is it the fact that you believe
That your girl is just so naive
But the one thing I can't deny
Is what I saw with my own two eyes
And he think I don't know (He must think I'm stupid)
He think I don't know
And he think I don't know
He think I don't know
On my way to work one night
As I made a left at the light
See what I saw just wasn't right
Yes what's done in darkness gon' come to light
But if you won't tell, I won't tell
Just let me leave before I go to jail
And the thing that blows my mind
Is that he walks around like [sh]it is fine
And he think I don't know (He must be crazy)
He think I don't know
And he think I don't know (He must be stupid)
Think I don't know
Think I don't know
Think I don't know
Think I don't know
[Repeat till fade with ad-libs]

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George Meredith

The Old Chartist

I

Whate'er I be, old England is my dam!
So there's my answer to the judges, clear.
I'm nothing of a fox, nor of a lamb;
I don't know how to bleat nor how to leer:
I'm for the nation!
That's why you see me by the wayside here,
Returning home from transportation.

II

It's Summer in her bath this morn, I think.
I'm fresh as dew, and chirpy as the birds:
And just for joy to see old England wink
Thro' leaves again, I could harangue the herds:
Isn't it something
To speak out like a man when you've got words,
And prove you're not a stupid dumb thing?

III

They shipp'd me of for it; I'm here again.
Old England is my dam, whate'er I be!
Says I, I'll tramp it home, and see the grain:
If you see well, you're king of what you see:
Eyesight is having,
If you're not given, I said, to gluttony.
Such talk to ignorance sounds as raving.

IV

You dear old brook, that from his Grace's park
Come bounding! on you run near my old town:
My lord can't lock the water; nor the lark,
Unless he kills him, can my lord keep down.
Up, is the song-note!
I've tried it, too:- for comfort and renown,
I rather pitch'd upon the wrong note.

V

I'm not ashamed: Not beaten's still my boast:
Again I'll rouse the people up to strike.
But home's where different politics jar most.
Respectability the women like.
This form, or that form, -
The Government may be hungry pike,
But don't you mount a Chartist platform!

VI

Well, well! Not beaten-spite of them, I shout;
And my estate is suffering for the Cause. -
No,-what is yon brown water-rat about,
Who washes his old poll with busy paws?
What does he mean by't?
It's like defying all our natural laws,
For him to hope that he'll get clean by't.

VII

His seat is on a mud-bank, and his trade
Is dirt:- he's quite contemptible; and yet
The fellow's all as anxious as a maid
To show a decent dress, and dry the wet.
Now it's his whisker,
And now his nose, and ear: he seems to get
Each moment at the motion brisker!

VIII

To see him squat like little chaps at school,
I could let fly a laugh with all my might.
He peers, hangs both his fore-paws:- bless that fool,
He's bobbing at his frill now!-what a sight!
Licking the dish up,
As if he thought to pass from black to white,
Like parson into lawny bishop.

IX

The elms and yellow reed-flags in the sun,
Look on quite grave:- the sunlight flecks his side;
And links of bindweed-flowers round him run,
And shine up doubled with him in the tide.
I'M nearly splitting,
But nature seems like seconding his pride,
And thinks that his behaviour's fitting.

X

That isle o' mud looks baking dry with gold.
His needle-muzzle still works out and in.
It really is a wonder to behold,
And makes me feel the bristles of my chin.
Judged by appearance,
I fancy of the two I'm nearer Sin,
And might as well commence a clearance.

XI

And that's what my fine daughter said:- she meant:
Pray, hold your tongue, and wear a Sunday face.
Her husband, the young linendraper, spent
Much argument thereon:- I'm their disgrace.
Bother the couple!
I feel superior to a chap whose place
Commands him to be neat and supple.

XII

But if I go and say to my old hen:
I'll mend the gentry's boots, and keep discreet,
Until they grow TOO violent,-why, then,
A warmer welcome I might chance to meet:
Warmer and better.
And if she fancies her old cock is beat,
And drops upon her knees-so let her!

XIII

She suffered for me:- women, you'll observe,
Don't suffer for a Cause, but for a man.
When I was in the dock she show'd her nerve:
I saw beneath her shawl my old tea-can
Trembling . . . she brought it
To screw me for my work: she loath'd my plan,
And therefore doubly kind I thought it.

XIV

I've never lost the taste of that same tea:
That liquor on my logic floats like oil,
When I state facts, and fellows disagree.
For human creatures all are in a coil;
All may want pardon.
I see a day when every pot will boil
Harmonious in one great Tea-garden!

XV

We wait the setting of the Dandy's day,
Before that time!-He's furbishing his dress, -
He WILL be ready for it!-and I say,
That yon old dandy rat amid the cress, -
Thanks to hard labour! -
If cleanliness is next to godliness,
The old fat fellow's heaven's neighbour!

XVI

You teach me a fine lesson, my old boy!
I've looked on my superiors far too long,
And small has been my profit as my joy.
You've done the right while I've denounced the wrong.
Prosper me later!
Like you I will despise the sniggering throng,
And please myself and my Creator.

XVII

I'll bring the linendraper and his wife
Some day to see you; taking off my hat.
Should they ask why, I'll answer: in my life
I never found so true a democrat.
Base occupation
Can't rob you of your own esteem, old rat!
I'll preach you to the British nation.

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You Lost Me

You lost me in your dreams tonight
Because there was a fog in the sky that covered everything
So nobody could see anything
But I know that the fog is bad for the people that have to drive
Because they can't see anything either
Some people will have to sit in the cars at the road
And wait for the fog to lift today
But how long I don't know?
I believe that it will take a long time for the fog to lift today

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Sonnet -All Men Are Imperfect, Poets Too

Why blame the Poet for the mess he writes;
All flowers bloom from stage of bud only;
Why blame the priest for poor funeral rites?
That is the way we do pray, sing, may be;

No one is perfect in his work at first;
Hard-work and time and luck, his mettle tells;
None have always the same hunger and thirst;
Nothing on earth quite uniformly sells.

By training much, one can become perfect;
Not all are geniuses, born or made;
The most perfect at times has some defect;
We don't know if our glory shall fade.
But Poets write just for the sake of it;
And very soon, they write out of habit.

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Giving Up

Giving up!
I don't know,
The meaning of it.
Am I out of luck?

Giving up!
I don't know.
The meaning of it,
To stay stuck in a rut.

Giving up!
I don't know.
But many people...
Seem to share this equally.

I hear the fussers cussing,
Not to give it up.
I see those hustlers rushing,
Not to give it up.
And...
I see some frantic.
And,
In a panic.

Giving up!
I don't know.
And I wont!
'Cause I don't.

Giving up!
I don't know.
The meaning of it.
Am I out of luck?

Giving up!
I don't know.
The meaning of it,
To stay stuck in a rut.

I hear the fussers cussing,
Not to give it up.
I see those hustlers rushing,
Not to give it up.
And...
I see some frantic.
And,
In a panic.

Giving up!
I don't know.
But...
I hear the fussers cussing.
I see those hustlers rushing.
Giving up!
I don't know.
But I...
See some frantic.
And...
In a panic.
But giving up!
I don't know.

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Tale Of An Alley Cat

There are effectuating things in the world
That makes you want to reside forever
Inside a conch shell's emollient whisper
Like the collision of acquiesced stares,
Or a bathe in her cold residing sweat
Or in a fountain of warm promises,
Or the memory of your fingers tinkering
With the resonance of wind chimes
As it desired to be entangled with a clandestine
Console bigger than the big screen
Until, the world topples into latticing alleys
And in every atrium of the heart
These lovely things encumbers the blood
And mold into loathsome reminiscences
And terrorizing acquaintances
For an astray alley cat.

Now the moon hung by a taut noose
And the stars shiver with decadence
I take its toll, pummeled by emblematic senescence
And morph into an alley cat scavenging for melancholia
Benumbed to the wintry hostility of the night
From sleeping in wet rooftops or asphalts
And despondently cowering vicissitude's blight,
Tailored to the day's superfluity of infernal fire
Stalled in the spiteful stares of nonchalance;
And the face of melancholia I do prefer
Grazed pristinely in a dismal penumbra
And effervescent like the sporadic fireflies,
Which is unsurpassed by the entente
To a chrysalis of a constant stoic slumber.
And as I saunter past the elusive light
In the geodesy of my tales, I am an alley cat.

I would welter past the sundered edifices
Envisaging the distances of your lissome fingers
And reckoning how I can never fill the crevasses.
I see you in the puddles, by the shattered windows,
Or the daze beneath a flickering lamppost
You are always the mistral gale of the city
And the subtle denunciation that drove me
Into the filthiest cul-de-sacs of verve where
My moans could never reach your palms
As they attend to stellar lantern charms,
And the tempest rain never sojourns
Even if the clockwork of my human soul
Had long been devoured by the impasse,
Where the sun would never winnow and stay,
Where I deny the pangs of loving the city
From the breast to the pockets that had kept me.

I plead guilty for desiring you in plenitude
And don more of horrible humanity as I envision
Us lying on my bed, as I stroke your rasping hair
And sap the pulp of your redolence, in the least carnal fashion
Until you achieve a hiatus from the beating
Because before you built a city all over me
You were once a tatterdemalion alley cat
And I had loved your flaws yonder the perfection.
But even in my fanaticism, you were the cold rapine
Of my facilities, you were a burglar cat, or perhaps
A rapacious tigress and your lurking camouflage's the interstate
That I can never lose, for I can never have
Albeit, your fangs are still locked on my neck
Your heavy paws on my chest
I would only have my dying self
In your alleys, left to bled.

Abandoned by any feral pride
I have accustomed a life in your shadows
Hunting for the varmints, but not for starvation
Rather, for perseverance of my scarce territory
In the arms of the lovely city
That never heeded and cared for me.
The alley cat hollered for a hunger
For that part of himself that whittled and
Frittered away from the consciousness
In coming to loving you and not loving you
For in loving, you would know too much
Until you know too much that you do not know any more
And in these times where the tears would not come
To wash the qualms of a lost love;
That part of himself that had wafted too far
In the chagrined darkness of the interstate
The lion's valiance halts
And he becomes an alley cat.

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Angel Number 444

Number comes in on my phone—
But I don't know if it's from a gnome.
Maybe an angel for the numbers show
The number 444.
The time of the call was the numbers above
Maybe sent by an angel or a secret dove.
So it gave me hope that I am still here—
My angels are everywhere.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 31,2012

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Angel Number 444

Number comes in on my phone—
But I don't know if it's from a gnome.
Maybe an angel for the numbers show
The number 444.
The time of the call was the numbers above
Maybe sent by an angel or a secret dove.
So it gave me hope that I am still here—
My angels are everywhere.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 31,2012
www.suzae.com www.suechevalier.com

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Ups and down in life

It is challenge from the day one
No escape route allowed for anyone
All the fruits to be enjoyed and burnt to be borne

Enough has been talked about
We are reserved and do not venture out
It has different tale with full of rout

How many might have succeeded and sustained?
Retain original shine and maintained
Life is before us and fully explained

Life has made us all the time to crawl
Still we are attached too much without making withdrawal
We have slept whole life and woke up like owl

Life was full of ups and down
We have failed to reject ills and tried to own
Finally the soul merges into soul

This has been continued for centuries
The concept of life still varies
Until you know it all, it is full of miseries

Not all may want it as full of challenge
They may struggle very hard to manage
The stage may come when life may be spent with age

In between whatever you did was quite memorable
Life was seen closely and understood as water bubble
Some might have proved to be luckier as free from any trouble

It is not important how much you lived
It has all mattered how you understood and believed
Pain and agony might have surfaced and relieved too

Is it confined only to have met two square meals?
Made it easy all the way with very nice deals?
Or was it spent with joy and happiness in real

I think we have answer in “no”
This fact is apparent and we all know
Amidst all uncertainties we have preferred to grow

It might have been divided into stages
The development can be written in pages
Sometimes with happiness and sometimes with rage


Can anyone write down honestly its outcome?
Certainly it has many aspects to welcome
Life should not be spent or be over as it had come

Is it merely breathless stage there after?
Does this all make us to roar in laughter?
It is interesting and admirable chapter

I may not know facts until I am full in
There is no loss, gain or win
It is how you take it and feel in

I have seen it as life emerging all of sudden
It was never thought before hand even
It has hunted us from time to time even then

Many more experiences may be inked
Life and death may be closely linked
We may think intensely with eyes half winked

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Ups and Downs

Babies don't survive
If they can't cry after birth
Then they learn to smile
There are ups and downs in life
Struggle to make it worthwhile

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Sadness and Loss/ Come Again And Again

SADNESS AND LOSS/ COME AGAIN AND AGAIN

Sadness and loss
Come again and again
In old age-
Friends all hurt
In various ways.

There is no answer
It will never be
Completely alright again,
As one once dreamed
It could be.

Life is difficult
And will be more difficult.,
But so long as it is still life
We must try to find in it
some love and some happiness.

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One Can Wait Forever/ For the Ideal Poem That Will Never Come

One can wait forever for the ideal poem
That will never come-

Or relent,

And write down the lines
That come as they come
Irrelevant, incidental, momentary
As one's own feeling of oneself is.

Like the breeze of these instants,
Like the shadows of the leaves
As they trace their motions
On the sun- touched ground,

Like all which is passing
Without any real evidence of its moment's remembrance
As dying as oneself is
Forever.

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Ups And Downs

Each life has its ups and downs
and I always figured
my life had more downs than ups.
However, when I stopped to look at it,
I think the reverse may well apply.
There have been more up than downs.

I have a wonderful wife,
which has to be an up.
I have been blessed with three lovely children,
which has to be another up.
I have friends from every four corners of the world.
There is no denying that is an up.

When I tried to look at the downs,
I really couldn’t think of any.
Therefore, at this moment
I am one of the few
real lucky people
who have more ups than downs.

22 March 2008

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Ups And Downs

So precious are our days upon this earth,
From life's very start, at our moment of birth,
Through our childhood years, so free from cares,
Then into adulthood, with its many shares
Of ups and downs, and sadness and joy,
Children for us perhaps, a girl and a boy.

Into middle age, then way beyond,
If only we could wave a magic wand
And choose each step that we should take,
The right decisions, that we should make,
But alas, our judgement is not always right,
Sometimes we can fail to see the light.

So life will be filled with ups and downs,
Days of laughter and days of frowns,
But through our days, whether stormy or fine,
These precious days are still yours and mine.

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