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Campbell Scott

I tend to turn down roles that are too much like me, what I think is most like me anyhow, because I'm me all the time and I'm sick of it.

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You are much more than what you think you are, you have much more than what you think you have

You are not
What you think you are
You are just the force
Operating a robot
Whose physical and
Chemical dimensions
Are determined by
A permutation and combination
Of certain amino-acids
You are not
What you think you are

You are not
What you think you are
You are not a female or male
You are not a daughter or son
You are not a sister of brother
You are not a mother or father
You own not a thing
You belong to one
Nothing is yours
None is yours
The only thing you own
Is you

As said elsewhere
You are born a daughter or son
Only to the nature’s desire
To ensure continuity
Of a particular
Genetic system

Your emotions are thus unreal
Your pleasures are unreal
Your pains are unreal
Your sorrows are unreal
All keep changing
With your change with
Your attitude and out look
The only thing unchanging and real in you
Is you

You are placed in this robot
And operating it
Just to accomplish the
Unmet desires that you
Were nursing
Earlier in yet another robot,
Or in previous birth,
As some learned say
And if you so believe

Remain just a witness
To what all happening
Stay emotion free
Stay fear free
Stay in confidence
Stay in peace
Stay in balance
You will see
Great things got
Achieved by your
Effectively operating
The robot, wherein
You are placed

You are not
What you think
That you are
You are much more
Than what you think you are
You have much more
Than what you think you have

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Is That Asking Too Much

(donny lowery/craig wiseman)
Some people say theres no american dream
I hear them talking but they dont say a thing
I still believe youve got to give it to get
Baptize your every aspiration in sweat
I vow my head each night and roll up my sleeves
cause buddy its a long hard road to easy street
Where all the cars go
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
Ive never been accused of dreaming too small
I never saw no shame in wanting it all
I guess thats just the curse of being born poor
No matter what you got you always want more
Everybody wants a lot, a little inside
Im not the only one with hungry eyes
That wants a car that goes
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great bid house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
I just wanna go fast, fast, fast
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
You know I wanna go fast, fast, fast
Nobody better ever pass me up going down the road
I gotta build me a house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Now is that asking too much

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Is That Askin' Too Much

(Donny Lowery/Craig Wiseman)
Some people say theres no American dream
I hear them talkin' but they dont say a thing
I still believe youve got to give it to get
Baptize your every aspiration in sweat
I vow my head each night and roll up my sleeves
Cause buddy its a long hard road to Easy Street
Where all the cars go
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
Ive never been accused of dreaming too small
I never saw no shame in wanting it all
I guess thats just the curse of being born poor
No matter what you got you always want more
Everybody wants a lot, a little inside
Im not the only one with hungry eyes
That wants a car that goes
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great bid house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
I just wanna go fast, fast, fast
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
You know I wanna go fast, fast, fast
Nobody better ever pass me up going down the road
I gotta build me a house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin' me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Now is that asking too much...

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Long Poems Are Too Much For Me

LONG POEMS ARE TOO MUCH FOR ME

Long poems are too much for me
I am a man of my Age
Of limited attention span.

A stanza or too
Is all I can manage-

Bright Blake and Emily D.
White Samuel Menashe
Inspire me
With your small songs
Read again and again
As if Forever.

A

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The Songs Are Too Much For Me

THE SONGS ARE TOO MUCH FOR ME

The songs are too much for me
They take me to places in feeling
I cannot go without them-
Why they have this Beauty and this Power
Why they have so many different kinds of Joy
I do not know-

But my soul singing with them believes
Life is Exuberance.

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I Dont Know About Tomorrow

Why dont we just do this?
Play that song that ma used to like
To hear me sing in church all the time
Thats the one
*laughs
I dont know
About tomorrow
I just live from day to day
And I dont borrow from its sunshine
For its skies may turn to gray
And I dont worry about my future
For I know what jesus said
And today he walks beside me
For he knows what lies ahead
Many things about tomorrow
I dont seem to under-understand
But i, I know, I know, I know who holds tomorrow
And I know who holds, who holds my hand
Oh yeah, yeah, yes, hey, yes
Who holds my hand

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I Know Who Holds Tomorrow

KELLY TALKING:WHY DON'T WE DO THIS, PLAY THAT SONG THAT
MA USE TO LIKE TO HEAR ME SING IN CHURCH ALL THE TIME. (PIANO
PLAYS) YEA THATS THE ONE.
VERSE 1:I DON'T KNOW ABOUT TOMORROW
I JUST LIVE FROM DAY TO DAY
AND I DON'T BORROW FROM ITS SUNSHINE
FOR ITS SKY'S MAY TURN TO GRAY
AND I DON'T WORRY ABOUT MY FUTURE
FOR I KNOW WHAT JESUS SAID
AND TODAY HE WALKS BESIDE ME
FOR HE KNOWS WHAT LIES AHEAD
MANY THINGS ABOUT TOMORROW
I DON'T SEEM TO UNDER UNDERSTAND
BUT I, I KNOW,I KNOW, I KNOW
WHO HOLDS TOMORROW
AND I, I KNOW
WHO HOLDS
WHO HOLDS MY HAND
OOO YEA,
YEAH YES
YEAH YES, WHO HOLDS MY HAND.

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5150

The love in me is never straight and narrow
Unless the love is tried and true
You take a chance with new beginnings
Still we try, win or lose, take the highs
With the blues
Chorus:
Always one more, youre never satisfied
Never one for all, only one for me
So why draw the line, meet you half the way
If you dont know what that means
I feel like running politician
Just trying to please all the time
I give you my share with no conditions
Going wide, running long, feeling lost
But not for a long
Chorus
Solo
Chorus

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Patrick White

I Won't Turn The Shadow Of The Sundial Back

I won't turn the shadow of the sundial back
to replicate the asters that bloomed yesterday
and were lovely as the wrists of a child
playing with perfume in front her mother's mirror,
I remember, without wanting to turn them
again and again and again into a template.
I don't mind grinding the past
into a parabolic mirror to see where I've been
in the last fourteen and a half billion years
but as I get older, that isn't going to give me
an insight into the future of darkness
I'm rushing into like an accelerated fool
where the angels are not self-destructive enough to pass.
The most beautiful songs are sung in the dark
by the loneliest of creatures endangered by the night.

I've been a jumper for as long as I can recall
and sometimes it's sheer suicide, and others,
even though I don't pack a parachute for the fall,
it's paradise. No risk in your next step
you're just crossing a river on a bridge of skulls.
No real Apaches in the Black Hills you're just
collecting postcards of the massacre,
buttons and bullets in a garden that went bust.
How can you keep your wits sharp
and hone your instincts in an arboretum?
Drug-store explorer with a library of roadmaps,
you've feathered your heels with lapwings and poultry
and flutter around like butterflies in a barnyard.
You ever tried firewalking across the stars?
Or put a match to a poem you loved like a storm?

If you're not proceeding at your own risk
the journey's not worth it. It's someone else's path.
It's only another threadbare carpet under a window.
May the rose always have thorns. May your lovers
always be able to kill you without a moment's notice
and your fireflies revert to dragons when your comets
are flying blind too far from the sun to shine.
You be the one that's missing from the family album
for a change.You be the one who's moody and strange.
The blasted orchard that isn't known by its fruits.
Stop revising that diary of event horizons
you've never violated once, and instead of
dumping your dirty sheets down a laundry chute
into the basement, go skinny-dipping in a black hole
to wash the stink and stain of useage off.

You keep listening for choral arrangements
of mellifluous honey in swarms of killer bees
without realizing the maelstrom that is already upon you.
Your mountains aren't wolves. They're St Bernards.
Have you ever been the epicentre of anything
you've ever said, or have you always been third echo
in this choir of indignant aftershocks? Would you even
recognize the sound of your own voice
if you ever heard it in a keen-eyed wilderness
among the nightbirds with the courage of their longings?
And I see you've gone and offended the muse again
by lowering the bar of your pain threshold
and fireproofing your heart against a lightning strike.
You think hugging shore with the rest
of the abandoned refugees is going to keep you
any safer than a liferaft flowing along
with your own mindstream through blackwater and white?

You can embroider your nightmares on pillow cases
and think you're going to sleep better tonight
than the homeless that are banked up like leaves
against your door. You can bleach the shadows
into albinos and think you've done something
kind to yourself, but all you've really done
is make the light turn dangerous. The sun bare its fangs
at the colour blind cowardice of antiseptic flowers.
Not a cheap thrill of blood on your palette anywhere.
Talent smiles like a house karl, but genius snarls
at the thorn of insight in its paw like a lion on a cross
roars like lightning in a skull at the rosey stigmata
of a fresh kill that tastes like the stars in its blood.
Solitude isn't a state of mind, it's a calculated risk.
You either jump into the lotus of fire heart first
and dare your own extinction among great heretics
or collapse like a universe into a starless abyss.

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All The Good Ones Are Gone

How many times have I heard it said,
especially by ladies out there.
They see someone with happiness
and wish they had a share
in all the happiness and fun.
When you ask them why
they don’t have someone,
they turn, frown, and simply say
all the good ones are gone.
This view isn’t only with the ladies,
I know a lot men who
will say the same sort of thing too,
that all the good ones are gone.

3 February 2008

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That Breakfast In Bed....

i should have known better,
you,
having seen only your name
and what you write, i have read
those lovely lines
that speak about two bodies
of fusing shadows, under the
olive trees,
i should have known better,
that breakfast in bed
does not serve my
woes any better,

shall i be Psyche all the time
and you be
the Cupid in that darkness?

i turn off the candle of trust,
to feel you, but my hands and fingers
do not know what
softness is,
from the harsh climate of the forest,
my manners have become
ten monkeys,

shall i have a nice sleep with you in bed?
you ugly gorilla
thick skin and flabby face,
foul hair and drooping eyes,
old and dying,

for in truth, the only living thing is you
is the thought between the lines
you are as distant as the horizon
as false as the
mythical pot at the foot of the rainbow.

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The Mountain Song

This mountain we must climb over
This mountain we must climb
I will follow you over
We will survive
Its time now
We must be moving onward
Its time for us to fly
Take care and look over your shoulder
Im there all the time
If your lost and you need someone to count on
Oh youve got to look to me
Because its times like these when a good friend is a savior
Oh you come running on back to me
Its time now
We must be moving onward
Its time for us to fly
Take care and look over your shoulder
Im there all the time
And someday when youre feeling awkward
And someday when youre down
Come to me I will give you anything
Ill turn your frown around
What youve done for me is more that I could hope for
Oh you are my friend
And Ill be there for you through happiness and sad times
Oh our love will pull us through
This mountain we must climb over
This mountain we must climb
I will follow you over
We will survive

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No Harm Done

Whenever I sit on a park bench,
someone will sit down beside me
thinking I look like someone they know.
They speak to me as if I'm an old friend.
When they realize their mistake
they want to apologize,
but I smile and quietly say.
"No harm done." As they begin to leave.

It always happens when I'm alone
and some think that I mind,
when in fact I do not mind at all.
Most just, feel they need to talk
whether it is a stranger or friend
and I must have a kindly face
that attracts them all the time
and I do not mind that at all.

My motto is very simple.
I might feel like them one day
and I hope someone will listen
when I have something to say.
I never turn my back
on whom ever it may be,
whatever race or creed they might be
as we are all just human beings.

One day I hope the world
will see things through my eyes.
Then we will at last see the peace
between all my fellow citizens
of this planet that
all of us call our home.
That is why whenever
someone speaks to me
there is never any harm done.

2 September 2012

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Think of you

I shall not think of you to miss
Till I finally bid you and wish
It will not be once, twice or thrice
It may remain till its demise

How I feel greatly at heart
I don’t know where from to think or start
I have not done it this before
I continue to think seriously therefore

What appeals me much about you?
What do I get message through?
Do your lovely eyes openly invite?
Arouse the passion and desire to ignite

I may never find answer again
That may not remain as worry or concern
How can I claim to dissociate or remain discern
When it comes to reality and favorable turn

It is not mere smile on your face
It seems beautiful mock trial or race
I run blindly to catch the glimpse
Will you call me an admirer or something else?

What a typical way to show the way?
Make to hold the breathe so no one goes away
It is rare shine in the in the form of ray
I am lost in race as answer may not be or may

What do the half opened lips suggest?
Do they indicate the direction of east or west?
East may suggest rising of bright day
West may suggest doom and push away

Hairs are like heavily charged clouds
Fall on chest to make it typical sound
Assuming shape of many beautiful figures
Safe passage with lovely words and assures

You search an answer from protected box
Your head is not like evil’s home or cunning fox
You may be waiting to reply in affirmative
Whole face appears to be shining and suggestive


You are totally unaware of happenings around
You present yourself as idol standing on ground
What to look and where to define
You are such a class and can be simply fine

I gaze at those black and brown eyes
I have no eagerness to know what and why’s
The answer is known in hidden expression
Yet I have to know its full confession

Simple cross reveal your faith in divinity
It is fine blend of super quality
It shows clear insight and full ability
To steer the course in hard difficulty

Your lovely teeth make it plain fact
You are expressive in your real act
You may come out with me in final show down
I may have all the treasure to be called of my own

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Still Down

[ AshantI ]
hey how you doing, how you been,
I've been laying low, watching every way you move,
so sit back and relax and lemme reaccquaint myself to you,
ohh its been a while since
I've been around
and I hope you aint forget my vibe
and my sexy style
if you don't ever go nowhere
I will never go nowhere
and I will always be rite here for you
[ chorus ]
tell me are you still down for a girl like me
cuz I dont wanna be just another memory 2x
[ T.I ]
eh eh eh long time no see now back on my feet,
comfortably, and back of a fee
rite back in the street
within a matter of weeks, dont they - 3
I proposed you accepted
and now you married to me
I know you been missin the kisses
and the different positions told your mind
over and I'll be home in a minute
hey listen I did the time
and now I'm finally free
now I can finally see that you was down for a G'
eh eh eh c'mon
[ AshantI ]
now you kno that I wont let you down
cuz imma do my best
so I can make it rite for you
and like nobody else imma give all myself
all myself to you
and please believe I will always see
who you got your eyes on
and who got their eyes on you
long as you never go nowhere
I will never go nowhere
and I will always be rite here for you
[ chorus ] 2x
tell me are you still down for a girl like me cuz
I dont wanna be just another memory
[ T.I ]
I promise I'm the same fella you knew
when they let me out the socks baby
I'm headed to you just lemme kno
if forever mean forever to you
if you choose to move on
hey wont you tell me the truth,
keep it real wit a nigga ma
wateva you do if your heart and minds
is numb rewind the time when
we closed the blinds like the --
was rhyming and we hit the malls
spending G's all the time
and you was on the side thru out
I was grindin and you was surprised
wit minks and showered wit diamonds
but you will always be a part for life
even if I never get to call to u my wife,
just rememba who put the bread into the crib
in the same crib that u want
ur kids living in now no matter
how eva you may feel now even
if u wanted to consider urself his now,
I'm still down for you
[ Chorus ] 2x

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Act before it is lost

Can lame scale the highest peak?
If God is pleased, even if he is weak
When mentally retarded can understand and speak?
You can retain your position even if others try to break

If God is merciful then everything is possible
Dead can come to life and strong can crumble
The land may turn infertile and there won't be any trace
We will face the destruction if fallen out of grace

People loose the faith when caught in cross fire
They had so far not prayed almighty and admired
It was their uncommitted faith that had kept them alive
They were in this world even if they did not believe

God doesn't disgrace those who are non believer
Even though they are burden on earth and unable to deliver
There may be hardly few or to be found in some section
We can never appreciate or digest their reaction

They don't come into terms and realize of their well being
They may be ruling on vast land with authority as king
They may be cruel on their subjects and not very kind
We have seen and witnessed their down fall like that of wind

One final blow may unseat them all
There won't be any escape even if they pray and call
The wind may deliver final blow with possible rout
No one will come to know about their fate or where about

Have you witnessed the sea turning rough during journey?
Can any one bring it under control with the help of money?
Who can come to your rescue when it is shot sure to sink?
Only prayers and good work if you had maintained the link

He is there to protect us all the time and in crisis
There is no particular science or thesis
It is firm belief and total faith towards almighty
He is there to smile on us without any pity

The showers can down pour with all its force
You may be waiting for its arrival with remorse
You may loose the path even if carefully chosen
Relation may sever and stand always frozen


Stay ablaze from within but pretend very calm
Go on seeding with pouring of water in farm
It will not grow fully until it showers heavily
You may come to sense when it grows really

This is how you come into being and grow with confidence
He is always there to avoid any unpleasant incidence
You may still deny His existence and walk on barren land
You may live here aimlessly without any friend

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Patrick White

Come To Me In Rags Of Blue Fire

Come to me in rags of blue fire, you, muse, you,
the gardenia face on the other side of the black gate
whose ancient spears are tipped with the taste
of wounded moons and iron roses; do not be swayed
by the blossoms on the cherry bridge,
or why the shadows of the brick children
on the walls of atomic decisions
haven’t been signed by the artists; give up
your fixation for amateur comet-watching in the rain
and come to me, touch me, hold me, consume me
in the flames of your igneous dispositions,
pierce me with stars, tear me on the thorns of your light,
as you have loved me in revery, distress, and tears,
as you have loved me in horror and humiliation
and then yourself lain down with me
in the mass graves of the student guitars
that were raped and murdered in the limelights
of the show-bizz army trucks,
antidotes weeping all night from the crescent of your kinder fang
to keep my heart alive like a toad in winter,
bring me now the night fire of your tigers
and the fragrance of wild sapphires blooming on the wind
when you return like an atmosphere to find me
as only you know how to find me
listening to my scars eat through the silence of dry creekbeds
revising the flash floods of their nervous breakdowns
with the short hands and amputated fingers of cactus alphabets.
Shall I call you dark names, and season my calling
with black swans and histrionic willows;
shall I summon you by silvering the Russian olive,
or bleeding the cherry to paint a man without lips,
or will you make me labour for nothing
in the sweatshops of the underpaid cocoons
when my tongue’s already as thick as a shoulder-pad?
Come, just come, come with wings, come with fireflies
and trust I’ve always preferred you to suicide,
come with bells and starfish calendars, come with candles and cedar
and tears in the mirror that don’t belong to anyone
and remember what I’ve died for when you asked,
come with fish and peacocks and orchids,
with squandered lakes bruised by the moon,
with black roses shedding their crows like witches,
come to me like an emerald that needs healing,
come with fingertips, breasts, eyes, a windfall of soggy peaches,
and believe in the poor goat whose piety’s a broken horn,
lift him up like rain above the sphinx in a desert ripe with diamonds,
and let him know, softly remind him, caress and confine him
like a cemetery covered in a keyboard of snow
until he confesses there’s an asylum in the heart of chaos
that sings to itself like an emergency constellation,
more enthralling than all the rest, a black waterstar
you are compelled to turn the lights off everywhere to be.

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Dear Wife

Dear Wife I write you this poem
As I have been told it would do me well,
To let you know what you have done to me,
And ask why you put me through all this hell.
I brought you here all the way from your home
To be my wife and my love forever more,
I then gave you all, and I did without,
But then your went knocking at other mens door.
I then found out you were telling lies about me
And love letters and phone calls to other men you sent
But you I had trusted with my whole heart and soul
So your many affairs on me, I never had the hint.

Dear Wife this is your poem
I hope you read it over and over again
Your sister said your affair on me wasn't your first
As you did it also with your other husbands and men.
Did you tell anyone else what you did too me
About mentally and physically abusing me all the time
And how you always put yourself always first
And never what was yours was also was mine.
You left our house when your family had slept
So you could go out and be with with another man
As you didn't care who you used or had hurt
And you I don't think no one could ever understand.

Dear Wife here is more of your poem
I truly hope that you will read it all
Have you told anyone who you left me for
Or are you ashamed and want that to be my call.
He too is a liar and and user and also a thief
And in so many ways he is just like you
As he too has not a job but lives off others
So he now tells you what you can or cannot do.
He had cheated on his wife so she left him
And also I found out he is a Momma’s boy
He is a coward and he cant fight his own fight
And as you know all of that is a true story.

Dear Wife here is more of your poem
There is so much more that I need to write
Are you going to raise your daughters the way you live
And have them believing that you were always right.
Will they think its alright to jump from one man to another
And its better to always take than it is to give,
And to ignore GOD’S word and think only of themselves
Tell me is that how you want them to live.
Soon one day all of your family and friends will find out
Of all of your lying and the ways that you do act
And hopefully none of your family will turn out like you
And as you know those are not lies, but only fact.

Dear Wife this of course is your poem
And you know that none of it is a lie
I never expected what you had done to me
So deep inside my soul I surely did die.
I kept all the messages you sent in your letters
Even the one about your hickey given in our house
The one your bragged about that was given to you
And it wasn't given by me, your spouse.
I remember when you told your daughters and me
How every Sunday that you had to go to school,
Even on Valentines day and your Birthday you had to go
Then I found out it was lie, and once again I am the fool.

Dear Wife here is some more of your poem
I am beginning to feel a lot better now,
As I did nothing wrong and it was always you,
And truly I do feel so happy with my soul and I am proud.
You committed adultery and you robbed and you stole,
And I stayed truthful to my wife and love which was you,
When you were abandoned in Scotland for over a year
Remember it was I your husband who wanted you.
I still have the pictures and the mail you had sent
And everyone even your family knows of your past,
All your adultery and affairs and cheating you have done,
The evils you have done to others will always last.

Dear Wife again this is your poem
If not without you it would of never been born
Some talk about the fury inflicted by scorned women
But I tell you this, a man too does not like to be scorned.
You have gossiped and criticized everyone in your life
Told of secrets and promises that you swore to keep
You honor no one and loyalty is not your friend,
And for you soul, sad to say no one will ever weep.
You have talked about your sisters and your brother
You said of their problems that they have many
Then you talked about your ex-husbands and ex-lovers
And this and we say Wife; Problems you have many.

Dear Wife This is the end of my poem
I hope truly that you have read it well,
And I hope all that know you, have read it too,
As they will too know, the truth is all that I did tell.
You have no conscience or dignity about yourself,
Is that why you changed your looks once again,
You cant change your soul, like changing of your hair
Seems you cant stay away from adultery and sin.
When you sleep tell me how do you sleep
I bet you sleep well, that is if you have not a soul,
And are you waiting for another man to come in your life,
So you can again start another life not far down the road.

Dear wife, I wander will your daughters be like you
Later in years when women they will become
You already have taught them how to lie and steal
And how to use men for gain and also fun.
I remember when they told me about all your boyfriends
And all the men you had stay with you for the night
And sad to say I later became one of those men
I guess I became the man next in your expanding line.
I wander if your daughters are happy with you
And the life that you gave them to live
They don't know how to be true and virtuous woman
The greatest present a mother to her daughter she could give.

Dear Wife, that name I wont call you anymore
As my wife to me you can never be
As you did the sins no other wife would ever do
And everyone of that one fact would always agree.
So you can tell your lies to everyone that you meet
Do you believe any one but a sinner would believe your lies
As you don't and never did walk the steps of morality or virtue
Now when you feel the cold wind that is GODS sadden sigh.
So using me and abusing me will happen no more
As to my mind and soul on that one thought I do reflect
As i can do so much better but you will not ever
And now my Dear Wife, you will ever be known as my ex.

Randy L. McClave

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The Rain

Roxette - the rain
I was raised the northern way and my
Father had a northern name, I did my
Crying out in the pouring rain. and a
Season turned into another one, I found
A heart bright like the morning sun. he
Touched my lips, so softly, with his fingertips.
But I kept the rain falling down on me
All the time, all the time. I kept the rain
Falling down on me all the time, all the time.
And some things in life wont ever
Change, theres a smell of a rusty chain
And of love disappearing like an aeroplane.
Ive kept the rain falling down on me
All the time, all the time. Ive kept the rain
Falling down on me all the time, all the time,
All the time.
White lion - broken heart
Here I stand, all alone
Trying to fight the pain from a broken heart
Why she left me? I dont know
It really doesnt matter anymore
I thought our love could last forever
But here I stand lost and all alone
Start a new day, but not alone
Im gonna break away from this broken heart
Ill meet a woman. Im gonna take her home
(where) Ill pick all the pieces and start all over again
I know that life will be much better
Cause I know the (light) will shine again
Chorus:
There is life even after a broken heart, broken heart
You can fight the pain from a broken heart broken heart
I know that life will be much better
Ch:
Repeat ch
White lion - farewell to you
Well its time to say goodbye my friend
Im glad you stayed until the end
I hope that youve enjoyed the time we spent
Though I know that I will be back again
I dont know just how soon my friend
Until we meet again just think of me
Ill think of you
It was easier to say hello
Than to say goodbye
Now the bus is leaving once again
I bid farewell to you
Oh oh yeah
I remember all the fun we had
And all the tears when times were bad
But you were there when we were down nout
And I know that I will not forget
What was written and what was said
And who was there when we were not on top
Of the world
It was easier to say hello
Than to say goodbye
Now the bus is leaving once again
I bid farewell to you
Oh oh yeah
Yes its time to say auf wiedersehn
Sayonara nciao my friend
Youll always have a place within my heart
And rock will come and rock will go
The scene will change and time will show
But still I hope that Ill be there for you
Be there for me
It was easier to say hello
Than to say goodbye
Now the bus is leaving once again
I bid farewell to you
Oh oh yeah
White lion - its over
Theres a little note beside this empty bed
I hear the back door slam nbaby youre on your way
You know I cried a thousand times before you left
You say that this is it
But baby cant you wait
You take your love and go far away
But Ill be missing your everyday
Cause its over
And theres nothing I can do
Yeah its over
But Im still in love with you
Over, over, over
But I love you girl
And I want you back again
This house is lonely and cold without you here
I wish the pain inside my heart would disappear
I know that I was wrong to treat you like I did
But dont you think our love deserves a second chance
When all the love is gone from your heart
And everything we had falls apart
Then its over
And theres nothing I can do
Yeah its over
But Im still in love with you
Over, over, over
But I love you girl
And I want you back again
Tears are falling from my eyes as I cry
I only wish that you were here
If only you had told me
If only I had known
Maybe you would still
Be sleeping in my arms
Wont you let me know
Wont you let it show
Now its over
And theres nothing I can do
Yeah its over
But Im still in love with you
Over, over, over
But I love you girl
And I want you back again
White lion - love dont come easy
There comes a time
When baby you nme
We gotta work it out
Whatever it will be
It feels so right
But somewhere deep inside
You dont know how you feel
You dont know if it is real
Do you want it
Do you need it
Cause love dont come easy
Do you want it
Do you need it
Cause love dont come easy
There comes a time
When you wake up one day
Not knowing if our love
Will take us all the way
Then suddenly,
You feel you must decide
If we should carry on
With what weve just begun
You know that it aint always easy
You know that it aint always right
When love finds a place in your heart
Do you want it
Do you need it
Cause love dont come easy
Do you want it
Do you need it
Cause love dont come easy
You can walk out thru this open door
Just like so many times before
If you dont find what you are looking for
You may be lost forevermore
You know that it aint always easy
You know that it aint always right
When love finds a place in your heart
There comes a time
When baby you should know
We are gonna make it
You gotta let it show
Cause I cant wait
And find out in the end
That you will not be standing
Right here by my side
White lion - till death do us part
As we talk the golden mile
Down the pretty aisle
I know that you are mine
And theres nothing in this world
That I know that I wanna do
To be near you everyday
Every hour every minute
Take my hand and let me lead the way
All thru your life
Ill be by your side
Till death do us part
Ill be your friend
My love will never end
Till death do us part
When I wake up everyday
With you lying in my arms
I wonder if Im dreaming
When I look into your eyes
I just cant believe its true
That my heart belongs to you
Baby you can have it all
Take my hand and let me lead the way
All thru your life
Ill be by your side
Till death do us part
Ill be your friend
My love will never end
Till death do us part
Therell be good times
And therell be bad
But I will stand beside you woman
All the way
And thru the years
As life goes on non
When snow will fall on winter nights
Ill keep you warm inside
Yeah baby I will
All thru your life
Ill be by your side
Till death do us part
Ill be your friend
My love will never end
Till death do us part
White lion - youre all I need
I know that shes waiting
For me to say forever
I know that I sometimes
Just dont know how to tell her
I want to hold and kiss her
Give her my love
Make her believe
Cause she doesnt know
She doesnt know
Youre all I need beside me girl
Youre all I need to turn my world
Youre all I want inside my heart
Youre all I need when were apart
I know that shes always
There when I need her loving
I know that Ive never
Told her how much I love her
I see her face before me
I look in her eyes
Wondering why
She doesnt know
She doesnt know
Youre all I need beside me girl
Youre all I need to turn my world
Youre all I want inside my heart
Youre all I need when were apart
Say, say that youll be there
Whenever I reach out
To feel your hand in mine
Stay, stay within my heart
Whenever Im alone
Ill know that you are there
Youre all I need beside me girl
Youre all I need to turn my world
Youre all I want inside my heart
Youre all I need when were apart
Youre all I need, etc.
All that I need
Is for you to believe
All that I need
Is you

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Patrick White

Paid The Rent

Paid the rent. Roof over my head for another month.
Car bills coming up, and contraband cigarettes;
got to feed myself, provide what is needed,
address myself to elemental concerns,
keep my body clean, my clothes, the house, the sheets,
my wits about me on the streets,
and my heart wary of vagrant urgencies
that take a bride like an ambulance to an emergency
just for the ride, and ends up dedicating themselves like a bloodbank
to a wound that isn't in the book
and won't be healed,
though I apply the moon like a poultice,
like a scar with a dark side that's always concealed.

Even who I thought I was,
more life behind me than ahead,
no more than a passing flaw of feeling,
gusts of birds in the groves of a sacred delirium
where the fools make fun of the saints
and it takes ages to understand
why the blood writes and paints
what the spirit sees of a world
that stains the grace of its mystic absurdity
by forgetting how to play with God, the faceless one.

And things are done that rot like bells
and torture and war and rape and winning sells
peanuts in the Colosseum
and no one knows who I am
because they're clinging like frost
to their own faces
in dangerously intimate places.

And that's okay; that's okay too
because I'm just an empty lifeboat passing through
the eye of a dream that won't wake anybody up,
just another prophetic crack in the cup
that proposes a toast to its host like a grail
as we fail and fail and fail our way through life
all the way to the top of our decline
like a parachute tangled in a powerline
that didn't know how to jump toward paradise.

And I wouldn't advise anyone giving or taking advice,
but I will go out and encompass the day like an accident
that didn't happen to me,
and there will be moments like mini-blackholes
that will grain my image into the ferocious clarity
of a face that bends space like a lens
to cloak the offence of my rarity
among these others who are less
than mysteriously me.

And I will confess in lonely parking lots
that are abused like hookers
that life is a shabby affair with a disaffected angel
with one wing in and one wing out
of a censored bed on a movie-set
that can't disarm the camera.
But why defame the rehearsal
if life goes on tour without you,
tired of the timing of the same old lines
and reruns of a mind that was never released?

How many suns, how many moons,
how many shadows cast by Venus ago
was the air sweet, and the light elated
by what it shone down upon
that grew eyes to turn the shining into seeing,
and revelled inconceivably in being
with nothing amiss in the mirrors of bliss
that had never been stained
by a suicide note in smudge-proof lipstick
before it opened a vein with a flick of the moon
to let its blood off the leash like a kiss
with a passion for going all the way?

I doubt if there's ever been such a day,
but it will do me no good
to widow away the grief
by treating belief to a candle or two
that don't cast the same shadows I do
when I'm trying to make sense of death
with ghosts on my breath,
and gates in my heart that gape at the fact
that none of us are ever coming back
to expose the disparity
between the living and the dead.

And the day is proving horrible
and the little light I hoped
to lamp my way along with
is caught by the wing like a star in a spiderweb
and I'm doing everything right
according to the detective in me
but I'm beginning to suspect a clause in my DNA
has defected like an eye through a loophole in felicity
and there's no way left that even I can be me
and endure this agony that waterboards
everything I have to say
about all the things I haven't done
and worse, much worse, to come, to unconfess
when I'm indicted like reasonable junkmail
on the threshold of the wrong address
that picks me out of the line-up like a refugee
even though the sun pulled an eclipse over its head
and rendered its blazing blind to rob the dead
who lie like bad credit in wounded wallets
trying to make the downpayment on an afterlife.

And who knows? Maybe there's an afterlaugh as well
peached and primed with salt and slime for the cynics.
Or maybe I should spend the last twenty years of my life,
if there's that much left of myself to pass on,
surfing women like channels to find one I'm on.
Or if all is delusion, absurdity, and despair
and only those too fearful not to, care,
and the air is noxious and the water obscene
and the earth too bilious to bear,
and meaning only the thorn of the facts
and the beauty of the wounded rose is treated
like just another heart attack,
and powerful leaders are seated on skulls
throwing leftovers like people behind them to gulls
hovering in the widening wake of their sterns
as the national garbage barge drifts rudderless downriver
like a corpse in the Ganges
snatched like laundry from the line
by sacred crocodiles,
why shouldn't I dispose of myself like surgical waste
or crush cigarettes into my arm in self-disgust
until I am all sunspots and craters on the moon
or master all the tongues of PsychoBabylon
slashing drastic alphabets with cuneiform razors
into the moist, starmud tablets of my flesh
like the tight mouths of new moons
unspooling the same old shit.

Sometimes I think I must be out of it
to still be here, to hang on, not to let go,
like those autumn leaves that cling all winter
like gnostic gospels in the snow
to the only tree they know.

Time isn't an abstract concept
when it's happening to your face
and space is closing up behind you like holy water
that washes you off like a bloodstain
and heals itself
by vetting your name to forget you
like an unwelcome tenant at an old address.

And the day is a Nazi firehydrant on standby
in a blizzard of ashes from the chimneys of Auschwitz,
and even the fires in the mouths of the lion furnaces
are disgraced by the taste of the human deformity
that waters its womb with glass
and bubbles with eyes that are blown and cast
like fanatical jewels through storefront windows
that shatter like icestorm chandliers
and scapegoat constellations,
or the only eye-witness to a murder of mirrors,
or nations.

Who lacks so much light at noon
that they withdraw like black holes
into the bloodlines of their shadows to hate
everything their glory can't illuminate?
The candle in the lamp can't soil the eye
and the sun burns all day without soot
and the flowers may keep
the bees like golden chimneysweeps,
and creosote turn to honey in the mouth of the hive,
but genocide vents like money and no one is left alive.

And of this infectious darkness is the day composed
and my spirit in the background
nothing but the universal hiss
of the deaths of millions, and hardly a tear,
except for the pathetic mercy of thoughts
that come down one by one like blunt windows
and the eyelids of the quicker guillotines
that couldn't stand to look at the horror
of what a species with a view can do to advance pain.
And there are skulls like sterile moons among the vegetables
that blight the food the starving grow to feed me
and atrocities in the bank that certify my cheque
and wash the blood off with diamonds
that shine with the lustre of rain
in the gutters of pain.

And it occurs to me in a shopping mall
in a flurry of wayward consumers
that there's always a quota
of people somewhere in the world
who must labour and live and give and die like aphids
for every ant here chatting up the cashier like yogurt.
But those are not cherries in your cheese, my friend,
they're body parts in death carts, crushed hearts
in the makeshift morgue of your pantry.

And the day takes an evil, surrealistic twist
like asphalt and licorice and the odour of snakes
and I don't have what it takes
to pull up stakes
and find a new grave for the vampire
and every princess I meet has already been kissed
and every rib of the child I used to be
is the rung of a burning ladder
that hasn't grown enough to rescue me.
And I'd put my hand on the news and swear
I'm not the man in the videocam nightmare
in the jackpot airport
with the backpack on,
tweaking his pixels with lightning
to avenge the death of his mirrors,
but there's no end, no end, no end
to this labyrinth of bull-leaping shadows
that threads me like blood through the eye of the needle
to mend what I didn't tear
like this day's black sail
that spiders across the web lines of my horizons
at a slip of a stitch in time
to poison my voice with moonlight and lime.

And it isn't as if I haven't tried to cool
these feverish jewels of seeing
in the eyes of the dragon sages
and worn out my share of straitjackets
and picked the psychological lice
out of my golden fleece on the funny farm
as if I were panning for mountains in the mindstream,
looking for the dicey cornerstones of the lost worlds
that have slipped from my shoulders like an avalanche
or the stools I've kicked out from under me
when I found a good branch
to upstage the star of the posse
like the understudy of a dying art
that knows its part, and hangs on every line.

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