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Special Celebration

We all decide to gather
On this very gloomy day
The same day, a year
later to the date our dear friend
Anthony passed away
There was memories shared
Along with the candid views
So emotional even
tearswas shed.
His girlfriend made his favorite cake
Suddenly people
began to rally
In order to patake
The neighbors played their radio, while
pull out a rake
To clean up Four streets for heaven's sakes
None yield to hesitate
Then a Stop the violence
Committe was birthed
To help regulate their issue that plauged
our communities, to fix mistakes

poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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Social Netowrking Of Robots

end of world war
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end of ww11

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Bet Shes Not Your Girlfriend

(tennant/lowe)
---------------
(whisper whisper whisper whisper)
Whisper round the town,
cause youre my friend and thats the end
For youre the only one in town
Who they will beg to hang around with
Youre so beautiful and calm
But with an attitude that says:
Hands-off, youre just not good enough
Every boy and man feeling lonely
Cant understand why youd be with me
Furthermore, we laugh and we draw
More attention everyday, so they say:
(girlfriend) bet shes not your girlfriend, oh no,
(oh oh oh girlfriend) you better make her happy
(oh oh oh girlfriend) bet shes not your girlfriend, oh no,
(oh oh oh girlfriend) you better make her happy
Well, that says maybe, in a way, but its okay
We are touche, while they stare in front of us
They draw away, as if to say:
Who are these people anyway?
How dare they confront us?
Every boy and man feeling lonely
Cant understand why youd be with me
Furthermore, we laugh and we draw
More attention everyday, so they say:
(girlfriend) bet shes not your girlfriend, oh no,
(oh oh oh girlfriend) you better make her happy
(oh oh oh girlfriend) bet shes not your girlfriend, oh no,
(oh oh oh girlfriend) you better make her happy
Oh no no no
Oh no no no
(girlfriend oh oh oh girlfriend
Oh oh oh girlfriend oh oh oh girlfriend)
Id rather die, than satisfy their curiousity
Im kind of shy and dry, and verging on ugly
They wonder what that I have got, that they have not
Theyll never understand that none of that matters
Every boy and man feeling lonely
Cant understand why youd be with me
Furthermore, we laugh and we draw
More attention everyday, so they say:
(girlfriend) bet shes not your girlfriend, oh no,
(oh oh oh girlfriend) you better make her happy
(oh oh oh girlfriend) bet shes not your girlfriend, oh no,
(oh oh oh girlfriend) you better make her happy
(oh oh oh girlfriend oh oh oh girlfriend
Oh oh oh girlfriend)
Bet shes not your, bet shes not your,

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Baker Man

Well here comes a dance that will never be banned now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Yeah, stolen from a story called "The Baker's Man" now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
It's impossible too sweet to cross the land????
(Patty cake patty cake)
Put your favorite records on and start the show now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Abra-cadabra look at everyone go now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
Alakazam this dance has got to grow now
(Patty cake patty cake)
Well they tell me that it's optional to use your feet
But now you really don't need them if you keep your beat
Well Arthur Murray's gettin' blurry tryin' to learn that jive
When all the kids from coast to coast are really comin' alive
Well go tell the gang what a time you've had now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
This Friday night we'll start a regular fad now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
We'll do the Baker 'til it drives us mad now
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Come on and take a lesson now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Clap your partner's hands
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Not too hard
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Now slap her in the face
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
What a disgrace
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Allegany Camp

amazing grace circus camp
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ambassador chalet at doral
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amber bowers
amber camp lazlo
amber pow camp
amberg germany dp camp
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ambleside scotland school camp
ambon pow camp
ambor island pow camp
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ambulance bower
amc camp dodge
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amc theater camp hill
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amcmovie camps
amelia earhart in japanese war camp

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Reminders

Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As word
s confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.

song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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If I Was Your Girlfriend

(by Prince)
Look at the bargains over here, ladies... If I was your girlfriend
Would U remember
2 tell me all the things U forgot when I was your man?
When I was your man If I was your best friend
Would U let me take care of U
And do all the things that only a best friend can
Only best friends can If I was your girlfriend
If I was your girlfriend If I was your girlfriend
Would U let me dress U
I mean, help U pick out your clothes
Before we go out Not that you're helpless
But sometime, sometime
Those are the things that bein' in love's about If I was your one and only friend
Would U run 2 me if somebody hurt U
Even if that somebody was me? (Even if that somebody was me?) Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be
Please If I was your girlfriend
If I was your girlfriend Would U let me wash your hair
Could I make U breakfast sometime
Or then, could we just hang out, I mean
Could we go 2 a movie and cry together
Cuz 2 me baby that would be so fine (That would be so fine) (If I was your girlfriend)
Baby can I dress U
I mean, help U pick out your clothes
Before we go out
(If I was your girlfriend)
Listen girl, I ain't sayin you're helpless
But sometime, sometime
Those are the things that bein' in love's about (Sugar) Sugar do U know what I'm saying 2 U this evening? (Sugar)
Maybe U think I'm being a little self-centered (If I was your girlfriend)
But I, I said I want 2 be (Sugar)
All of the things U are 2 me (Sugar) (If I was your girlfriend)
Surely, surely U can see Is it really necessary 4 me 2 go out of the room
Just because U wanna undress? (If I was your girlfriend)
We don't have 2 make children 2 make love
And we don't have 2 make love 2 have an orgasm (If I was your girlfriend) Your body's what I'm all about (If I was your girlfriend)
Can I see it?
I'll show U (If I was your girlfriend)
Why not?
U can do it because I'm your friend
I'll do it 4 U
Of course I'll undress in front of U! (If I was your girlfriend)
And when I'm naked, what shall I do?
How can I make U see that it's cool? (If I was your girlfriend)
Can't U just trust me?
If I was your girlfriend U could (If I was your girlfriend)
Oh, yeah, I think so
Listen, 4 U naked I would dance a ballet (If I was your girlfriend)
Would that get U off?
Then tell me what will!

[...] Read more

song performed by Eels
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lost and Given Over

A Mermaid’s not a human thing,
An’ courtin’ such is folly;
Of flesh an’ blood I’d rather sing,
What ain’t so melancholy.
Oh, Berta! Loo! Jaunita! Sue!
Here’s good luck to me and you—
Sing rally! ri-a-rally!
The seas is deep; the seas is wide;
But this I’ll prove whate’er betide,
I’m bully in the alley!
I’m bull-ee in our al-lee!

The Hooghli gal’er face is brown;
The Hilo gal is lazy;
The gal that lives by ’Obart town
She’d drive a dead man crazy;
Come, wet your lip, and let it slip!
The Gretna Green’s a tidy ship—
Sing rally!
The seas is deep; the seas is blue;
But ’ere’s good ’ealth to me and you,
Ho, rally!

The Lord may drop us off our pins
To feed ’is bloomin’ fishes;
But Lord forgive us for our sins—
Our sins is most delicious!
Come, drink it up and fill yer cup!
The world it owes us bite and sup,
And Mimi, Ju-Ju, Sally;
The seas is long; the winds is strong;
The best of men they will go wrong—
Hi, rally! ri-a-rally!

The Bowery gal she knows ’er know;
The Frisco gal is silly;
The Hayti gal ain’t white as snow—
They’re whiter down in Chili.
Now what’s the use to shun the booze?
They’ll flop your bones among the ooze
Sou’-west-by-Sou’ the galley.
The seas is green; the seas is cold;
The best of men they must grow old—
Sing rally! ri-a-rally!

All round the world where’er I roam,
This lesson I am learnin’:
If you’ve got sense you’ll stop at home
And save the bit yer earnin’.
So hang the odds! It’s little odds,

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin James Brady
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These Are Our Neighbors

Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!

These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Knockingdownwhatcanbefoundtogetnothin gdone.
Takingoutofcontextwithawishfailurecomes!

And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.

Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithm orelies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindis guise.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!

And...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Yes...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Emotional

Ooh yeah yeah yeah
Here comes the soul
Gimme that soul
Ooh hes emotional
Hes an emotional man
Sacrify the day
And bless the night
Want you to come and do me
Ooh hes emotional
Hes an emotional man
Hes got tears in his eyes
Watch him break down and cry
Watch me cry
Hear me babe
Was soll ich dir noch sagen
Es ist doch alles schon gesagt
Ohne uns sind wir die hlfte wert
Wir gehn vorbei und sehn es nicht
Hes a desperate man in a world so cold
Und du weit, ich habe ein herz wie ein lwe
Hes just longing for a woman to hold
Und das herz geht so lange zum messer bis es sticht
Do me
Ooh hes emotional
Hes an emotional man
So emotional
I had my woman right here
I had her in the palm of my hand
Want you to come and do me
Ooh hes emotional
So emotional
Hes an emotional man
Hes got tears in his eyes
Watch him break down and cry
Watch me cry
Still hear me babe
Ich wei, da die frau die mich ertrgt noch nicht geboren ist
Aber ich bitte dich, komm zur welt
Hes a desperate man in a world so cold
Und du weit, ich habe ein herz wie ein lwe
Hes just longing for a woman to hold
Und wenn du willst, dann geh ich down on my knees and pray to
The spirits above, do me
Ooh hes emotional
So emotional
Hes an emotional man
I had my woman right here
I had her in the palm of my hand
Want you to come and do me
Ooh hes emotional

[...] Read more

song performed by Falco
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,--
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

PART THE FIRST

I

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rosalind and Helen: a Modern Eclogue

ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child.

SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como.

HELEN
Come hither, my sweet Rosalind.
'T is long since thou and I have met;
And yet methinks it were unkind
Those moments to forget.
Come, sit by me. I see thee stand
By this lone lake, in this far land,
Thy loose hair in the light wind flying,
Thy sweet voice to each tone of even
United, and thine eyes replying
To the hues of yon fair heaven.
Come, gentle friend! wilt sit by me?
And be as thou wert wont to be
Ere we were disunited?
None doth behold us now; the power
That led us forth at this lone hour
Will be but ill requited
If thou depart in scorn. Oh, come,
And talk of our abandoned home!
Remember, this is Italy,
And we are exiles. Talk with me
Of that our land, whose wilds and floods,
Barren and dark although they be,
Were dearer than these chestnut woods;
Those heathy paths, that inland stream,
And the blue mountains, shapes which seem
Like wrecks of childhood's sunny dream;
Which that we have abandoned now,
Weighs on the heart like that remorse
Which altered friendship leaves. I seek
No more our youthful intercourse.
That cannot be! Rosalind, speak,
Speak to me! Leave me not! When morn did come,
When evening fell upon our common home,
When for one hour we parted,--do not frown;
I would not chide thee, though thy faith is broken;
But turn to me. Oh! by this cherished token
Of woven hair, which thou wilt not disown,
Turn, as 't were but the memory of me,
And not my scornèd self who prayed to thee!

ROSALIND
Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;

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poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

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poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Brent River Bride

Flow proudly fair river,
For one who fell under
Your spell was the liver
Doc, Gershon - asunder
Found all his plans, muddled
By nymphs of the water -
He greatly befuddled
Then married the daughter
Of Count Joe of Wandle
Far south of the city
And went on to fondle
Her milk flowing titty.
I send this wet letter
To Brentische planners;
Such amour is better
Than yekkishe manners.

LRH
6.5.06 In reply to GWH's Bride of Brent of 6.5.06

Bride of Brent

Unlike Lucia from far Lammermoor,
fair Linda, hailing from far Chaumonix,
excels when she’s preparing salmon or
deep-frying spuds and spinach that aren’t gammony.

She tried to keep the frog which wooing went
outside the net she guarded as a goalie
till she became the Bride of River Brent
and played the role of Princess Rowley-Powley.

The frog, he always used to say “Heigh-ho, '
because he knew that he could never find a
more lovely princess once she’d kissed him so
he was more charmed than Chaumonix by Linda.

Inspired by Linda, who married me at the Brent Bridge Hotel in August 1996, and by “A frog he would a-wooing go”: [Old folk song].

A Frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigho! says Rowley,
Whether his mother would let him or no.
With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho! says Anthony Rowley.

So off he set with his opera hat,
Heigho! says Rowley,
And on the way he met with a Rat.
With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho! says Anthony Rowley.

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poem by Linda Hepner
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Fourth Book

THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'

So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Tale V

THE PATRON.

A Borough-Bailiff, who to law was train'd,
A wife and sons in decent state maintain'd,
He had his way in life's rough ocean steer'd
And many a rock and coast of danger clear'd;
He saw where others fail'd, and care had he,
Others in him should not such feelings see:
His sons in various busy states were placed,
And all began the sweets of gain to taste,
Save John, the younger, who, of sprightly parts,
Felt not a love for money-making arts:
In childhood feeble, he, for country air,
Had long resided with a rustic pair;
All round whose room were doleful ballads, songs,
Of lovers' sufferings and of ladies' wrongs;
Of peevish ghosts who came at dark midnight,
For breach of promise, guilty men to fright;
Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with

these,
All that on idle, ardent spirits seize;
Robbers at land and pirates on the main,
Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain;
Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers,
Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice

flowers,
And all the hungry mind without a choice devours.
From village-children kept apart by pride,
With such enjoyments, and without a guide,
Inspired by feelings all such works infused,
John snatch'd a pen, and wrote as he perused:
With the like fancy he could make his knight
Slay half a host, and put the rest to flight;
With the like knowledge he could make him ride
From isle to isle at Parthenissa's side;
And with a heart yet free, no busy brain
Form'd wilder notions of delight and pain,
The raptures smiles create, the anguish of disdain.
Such were the fruits of John's poetic toil -
Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil:
He nothing purposed but with vast delight,
Let Fancy loose, and wonder'd at her flight:
His notions of poetic worth were high,
And of his own still-hoarded poetry; -
These to his father's house he bore with pride,
A miser's treasure, in his room to hide;
Till spurr'd by glory, to a reading friend,
He kindly show'd the sonnets he had penn'd:

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poem by George Crabbe
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Emotional Highway

Heard youre up to no good
Doin everything I never would
Shakes me up
Brings me down
Puts my world six feet underground
Well I need to know whats going on
Before I lose my mind
If I catch you with her I dont know what Ill do
When I get home what will I find
Whoa emotional highway
Driving all night and day through the pouring rain
Ive heard a rumor now
Ive got to find out for myself
If my babys giving his heart to someone else
Well my minds playing tricks
To think of you and her just makes me sick
Every mile that I go
I keep praying I dont lose control
Well the road is long and conditions are bad
And all I think about is you
I dont have time to wait in line
Move over mister
Ive gotta get through
Whoa emotional highway
Driving all night and day through the pouring rain
Ive heard a rumor now
Ive got to find out for myself
If my babys getting it on with someone else
Emotional highway
Emotional highway
Emotional highway, emotional, emotional, emotional
Baby baby I know that were two of a kind
Thats why Ive got suspicion on my mind
Whoa emotional highway
Driving all night and day through the pouring rain
Ive heard a rumor now
Ive got to find out for myself
If my babys me up for someone else
Emotional highway
Emotional highway
Emotional highway, emotional, emotional, emotional
Got to get back, get back to my baby
Emotional highway
Emotional highway
Emotional highway, emotional, emotional, emotional
Got to get back, get back to my baby

song performed by Belinda Carlisle
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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