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Fables

Old wives's fables,
Be an example to others;
Gossips and busybodies,
Talking about things that they should not;
You shall not muzzle the ox that treads out the grain.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Woefull Lamentation Of Jane Shore

The woefull lamentation of Jane Shore, a goldsmith's wife in London, sometime king Edward IV. his concubine. To the tune of 'Live with me,' &c.

If Rosamonde, that was so faire,
Had cause her sorrowes to declare,
Then let Jane Shore with sorrowe sing,
That was beloved of a king.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

In maiden yeares my beautye bright
Was loved dear of lord and knight;
But yet the love that they requir'd,
It was not as my friends desir'd.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

My parents they, for thirst of gaine,
A husband for me did obtaine;
And I, their pleasure to fulfille,
Was forc'd to wedd against my wille.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

To Matthew Shore I was a wife,
Till lust brought ruine to my life;
And then my life I lewdlye spent,
Which makes my soul for to lament.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

In Lombard-street I once did dwelle,
As London yet can witness welle;
Where many gallants did beholde
My beautye in a shop of golde.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

I spred my plumes, as wantons doe,
Some sweet and secret friende to wooe,
Because chast love I did not finde
Agreeing to my wanton minde.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

At last my name in court did ring
Into the eares of Englandes king,
Who came and lik'd, and love requir'd,
But I made coye what he desir'd.
Then maids and wives in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Rhythm (feat. Ice-T, Donald D & Diva)

The rythm is both the songs manicle and it's demonic charge charge
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
I'm Everlast born to be a caucassion but it makes no difference what persuasion you are
As long as you know how to get up on the floor and start workin' a sweat
To a musical measure that makes you move as soon as the needle drops into the groove
So get up and dance to the gift I'm giving, forget about your troubles get into the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Yo, yo, you know what the world needs...we need peace, rhythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
You linger for the rap singer, when Donald D brings the party to the deal my presence is felt world wide
You don't dance to this it's suicide
Put your hands into the air on, the M.C. cop, the girlies are pipen' hot
Natorious Lama is how I'm livin' don't step to me step to the rhythm

[...] Read more

song performed by Everlast
Added by Lucian Velea
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Talkin Talkin

Talking, talking
It doesnt really matter
If you know my name
It doesnt really matter
If you see things the same
As I do
It doesnt even matter
If Im tied and tense
It doesnt even matter
If Im still making sense
Over you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
Talking, talking
It doesnt matter
What the people
All around you say
Be careful how
You listen
They dont know you
The way that I do
And if you wanna
Talk about it baby
Thats alright
Its better if I say it
Than to sit down
And write it to you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
It can be that
Youre here with me
When Im standing out
On my own
The words of love
That you gage
When we were alone
It doesnt matter
If you want to
Rock and roll all night
I know youre gonna
Be there when the
Feeling is right
The feeling is right
The feeling is right
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking

[...] Read more

song performed by Moody Blues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself

I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself

I’m not informing
I’m not warning

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Rock n Roll Mercenaries

(talking, talking - wealth, talking - money, talking - power
Talking - horses, talking - fun, talking - self, talking - power
Talking - diamonds, talking - ego, talking - man, talking - wealth)
(and talking - power) (repeats)
Money is power, power is fame
Chorus:
Talking about rock n roll mercenaries
Soldiers of fortune by some other name
Im talking about rock n roll mercenaries
Money is power, n power is fame
Everything you pay to hear - just listen
Everything to catch your ear - just listen
Whatever it takes, theyre ready to sell
Anything and everything they do it themselves
(chorus)
Young are the victims so easily [swayed/slain]
[as some given are poisoned, all continuous placed]
Our conscience is a load, so heavy to carry, for a rock n roll mercenary
(chorus)
It starts with a game, see how they play
Till all of the laughter is faded away
Its not for the song, its not for the love
Its just for the gold and theres never enough - never enough
(chorus)
Its not for the song, its not for the love
Its just for the gold, theres never enough
(chorus)
(rock n roll mercenaries)
(talking, talking) (repeats out)
Rock n roll mercenaries - ooh, talkin about
Rock n roll mercenaries... (to fade)

song performed by Meat Loaf
Added by Lucian Velea
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Im Just Talkin About Tonight

Im not talking about locking down forever baby
That would be too too demanding
Im just talking about two lonely people who might
Reach a little understanding
Im not talking about knocking out heaven
With weather were wrong or were right
Im not talking about hooking up or hanging out
Im just talking about tonight
You were sittin on your barstool, and talking to some fool who didnt have a
Clue
Well I guess he couldnt see you were looking right at me cause I was looking
At you too
And its do you want to dance, have we ever met
You said, hold your horses boy, I aint that easy to get
Im not talking about locking down forever baby
That would be too too demanding
Im just talking about two lonely people who might
Reach a little understanding
Im not talking about knocking out heaven
With weather were wrong or were right
Im not talking about hooking up or hanging out
Im just talking about tonight
She said, I wanna take it slow by now you oughta know that I aint diggin
This
If we can start as friends the weekend just might end with a little kiss
She said, Im a lady lookin for a man in my life,
Who will make a good husband, Ill make a good wife
Easy now
Im not talking about locking down forever baby
That would be too too demanding
Im just talking about two lonely people who might
Reach a little understanding
Im not talking about knocking out heaven
With weather were wrong or were right
See, Im not talking about hooking up or hanging out
Im just talking about tonight
Yeah, Im just talking about a little bit later on tonight

song performed by Toby Keith
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Gibberish

Arg wu sentafinticate nar dunderford
Bida menti kosticated interserd
Thorphilliate stinded yilla billa zay
Wentora yate paravillintiniay
Paravillintiniay
Dorga orpha dorga billa
Dorga orpha stifaleare
Dorga orpha dorga billa
Tonalation fonamere
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking now
If I had one wish
Well I dont know what Id wish for
But if I had a million zillion wishes
Id use one to let you know that gibberish is
Not a nice way to talk to all your
Mork sawx ippen reeby yufftabar
Higgerd quillip ernigrade du wellinshar
Lirp crawn xyfa gourk jawinstabray
Venaldo urp paravillintiniay
Paravillintiniay
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking
Stop talking gibberish
Or just stop talking now
If I had one wish
Well I dont know what Id wish for
But if I had a million zillion wishes
Id use one to let you know that gibberish is
Not a nice way to talk to all your friends

song performed by Relient K
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Iliad: Book 6

The fight between Trojans and Achaeans was now left to rage as it
would, and the tide of war surged hither and thither over the plain as
they aimed their bronze-shod spears at one another between the streams
of Simois and Xanthus.
First, Ajax son of Telamon, tower of strength to the Achaeans, broke
a phalanx of the Trojans, and came to the assistance of his comrades
by killing Acamas son of Eussorus, the best man among the Thracians,
being both brave and of great stature. The spear struck the projecting
peak of his helmet: its bronze point then went through his forehead
into the brain, and darkness veiled his eyes.
Then Diomed killed Axylus son of Teuthranus, a rich man who lived in
the strong city of Arisbe, and was beloved by all men; for he had a
house by the roadside, and entertained every one who passed; howbeit
not one of his guests stood before him to save his life, and Diomed
killed both him and his squire Calesius, who was then his
charioteer- so the pair passed beneath the earth.
Euryalus killed Dresus and Opheltius, and then went in pursuit of
Aesepus and Pedasus, whom the naiad nymph Abarbarea had borne to noble
Bucolion. Bucolion was eldest son to Laomedon, but he was a bastard.
While tending his sheep he had converse with the nymph, and she
conceived twin sons; these the son of Mecisteus now slew, and he
stripped the armour from their shoulders. Polypoetes then killed
Astyalus, Ulysses Pidytes of Percote, and Teucer Aretaon. Ablerus fell
by the spear of Nestor's son Antilochus, and Agamemnon, king of men,
killed Elatus who dwelt in Pedasus by the banks of the river
Satnioeis. Leitus killed Phylacus as he was flying, and Eurypylus slew
Melanthus.
Then Menelaus of the loud war-cry took Adrestus alive, for his
horses ran into a tamarisk bush, as they were flying wildly over the
plain, and broke the pole from the car; they went on towards the
city along with the others in full flight, but Adrestus rolled out,
and fell in the dust flat on his face by the wheel of his chariot;
Menelaus came up to him spear in hand, but Adrestus caught him by
the knees begging for his life. "Take me alive," he cried, "son of
Atreus, and you shall have a full ransom for me: my father is rich and
has much treasure of gold, bronze, and wrought iron laid by in his
house. From this store he will give you a large ransom should he
hear of my being alive and at the ships of the Achaeans."
Thus did he plead, and Menelaus was for yielding and giving him to a
squire to take to the ships of the Achaeans, but Agamemnon came
running up to him and rebuked him. "My good Menelaus," said he,
"this is no time for giving quarter. Has, then, your house fared so
well at the hands of the Trojans? Let us not spare a single one of
them- not even the child unborn and in its mother's womb; let not a
man of them be left alive, but let all in Ilius perish, unheeded and
forgotten."
Thus did he speak, and his brother was persuaded by him, for his
words were just. Menelaus, therefore, thrust Adrestus from him,
whereon King Agamemnon struck him in the flank, and he fell: then
the son of Atreus planted his foot upon his breast to draw his spear

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Passage To India

SINGING my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong, light works of engineers,
Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,)
In the Old World, the east, the Suez canal,
The New by its mighty railroad spann'd,
The seas inlaid with eloquent, gentle wires,
I sound, to commence, the cry, with thee, O soul,
The Past! the Past! the Past!

The Past! the dark, unfathom'd retrospect! 10
The teeming gulf! the sleepers and the shadows!
The past! the infinite greatness of the past!
For what is the present, after all, but a growth out of the past?
(As a projectile, form'd, impell'd, passing a certain line, still
keeps on,
So the present, utterly form'd, impell'd by the past.)

Passage, O soul, to India!
Eclaircise the myths Asiatic--the primitive fables.

Not you alone, proud truths of the world!
Nor you alone, ye facts of modern science!
But myths and fables of eld--Asia's, Africa's fables! 20
The far-darting beams of the spirit!--the unloos'd dreams!
The deep diving bibles and legends;
The daring plots of the poets--the elder religions;
--O you temples fairer than lilies, pour'd over by the rising sun!
O you fables, spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known,
mounting to heaven!
You lofty and dazzling towers, pinnacled, red as roses, burnish'd
with gold!
Towers of fables immortal, fashion'd from mortal dreams!
You too I welcome, and fully, the same as the rest;
You too with joy I sing.

Passage to India! 30
Lo, soul! seest thou not God's purpose from the first?
The earth to be spann'd, connected by net-work,
The people to become brothers and sisters,
The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage,
The oceans to be cross'd, the distant brought near,
The lands to be welded together.

(A worship new, I sing;
You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours!
You engineers! you architects, machinists, your!
You, not for trade or transportation only, 40

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Overnight Angels

(ian hunter)
In the heat of the indian summer
Out along the appalachian way
You can hear the sound of the overnight angels
As they pray
Charged by the light of some mariners lantern
Spitting out a cold but triangular spray
Cant you hear the screams of the overnight angels
As they play
Talking to the spirits through a silver curtain
Reaching out beyond the length of the light
You can catch a glimpse of an overnight angel
As he shines
Dancing through the toys of the dead and the living
Laughing at the poets changing their rhymes
Cant you feel the pulse of the overnight angels
Beating time
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels
Children of the junkies led the revolution
Push yourselves over get yourselves there
Someone throw their arms round the overnight angels
Cause they care
Angels dont need no phony religion
Throw them out along with the ethnic nowheres
They will never speak to the overnight angels
They can only stare
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Overnight angels
Overnight angels

[...] Read more

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Talking Book

I wish I had a talking book
That told me how to act and look
A talking book that contained keys
To past and present memories
A talking book that said your name
So if you were gone, youd still remain
More than a picture on a shelf
In imagination I could touch
A talking, talking book
I wish I had a talking book
Filled with buttons you could push
Containing looks and sights, your touch
Your feel, your breath, your sounds, your sighs
How much Id bluster to ask it why
One must live and one must die
I wish I had a talking book
By my side so I could look
And touch and feel and dream, a look
Much bigger than a talking book
A taste of loving future and past
Is that so much to really ask
In this one moments time and space
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love ever, forever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
(can our love really be replaced)
By a talking book

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Talking To The Universe

Hey, yoko!
Imagine a grapefruit and squeeze it on me.
Ah!
You say mustnt do this and that,
You say cant do this and that
While youre losing your pants in a bullet-proof car,
Losing your hair in a downtown bar.
Oh, forget it, just forget it,
Its the curse, youre my curse, it could be worse.
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Ooh - listen!
You say mustnt have this and that,
You say cant have this and that
While youre losing your apple and squeezing our balls,
Losing your mind and crawling up the walls.
Oh, forget it, just forget it,
Its the curse, youre my curse, it could be worse.
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Ooh -
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Ooh - listen!
Ooh -
Oh yeah, do you wanna touch me, oh yeah
Do you wanna break your mind, boy?
?
Youre a dildo, Im a whore,
Im a barbie, youre a hore.
Living in a glass house, having fun,
Lying in a glass house watching the sun.
Forget it, just forget it,
Its the curse, you are my curse, it could be worse.
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Im just talking to the universe,
Ooh -
Ooh -
Ooh -
Ooh -
Ooh -
Ooh -.......

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Earth And The Wedded Woman

I

The shepherd, with his eye on hazy South,
Has told of rain upon the fall of day.
But promise is there none for Susan's drouth,
That he will come, who keeps in dry delay.
The freshest of the village three years gone,
She hangs as the white field-rose hangs short-lived;
And she and Earth are one
In withering unrevived.
Rain! O the glad refresher of the grain!
And welcome waterspouts, had we sweet rain!

II

Ah, what is Marriage, says each pouting maid,
When she who wedded with the soldier hides
At home as good as widowed in the shade,
A lighthouse to the girls that would be brides:
Nor dares to give a lad an ogle, nor
To dream of dancing, but must hang and moan,
Her husband in the war,
And she to lie alone.
Rain! O the glad refresher of the grain!
And welcome waterspouts, had we sweet rain!

III

They have not known; they are not in the stream;
Light as the flying seed-ball is their play,
The silly maids! and happy souls they seem;
Yet Grief would not change fates with such as they.
They have not struck the roots which meet the fires
Beneath, and bind us fast with Earth, to know
The strength of her desires,
The sternness of her woe.
Rain! O the glad refresher of the grain!
And welcome waterspouts, had we sweet rain!

IV

Now, shepherd, see thy word, where without shower
A borderless low blotting Westward spreads.
The hall-clock holds the valley on the hour;
Across an inner chamber thunder treads:
The dead leaf trips, the tree-top swings, the floor
Of dust whirls, dropping lumped: near thunder speaks,
And drives the dames to door,
Their kerchiefs flapped at cheeks.
Rain! O the glad refresher of the grain!

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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Proem

O antique fables! beautiful and bright
And joyous with the joyous youth of yore;
O antique fables! for a little light
Of that which shineth in you evermore,
To cleanse the dimness from our weary eyes,
And bathe our old world with a new surprise
Of golden dawn entrancing sea and shore.

We stagger under the enormous weight
Of all the heavy ages piled on us,
With all their grievous wrongs inveterate,
And all their disenchantments dolorous,
And all the monstrous tasks they have bequeathed;
And we are stifled with the airs they breathed;
And read in theirs our dooms calamitous.

Our world is all stript naked of their dreams;
No deities in sky or sun or moon,
No nymphs in woods and hills and seas and streams;
Mere earth and water, air and fire, their boon;
No God in all our universe we trace,
No heaven in the infinitude of space,
No life beyond death--coming not too soon.

Our souls are stript of their illusions sweet,
Our hopes at best in some far future years
For others, not ourselves; whose bleeding feet
Wander this rocky waste where broken spears
And bleaching bones lie scattered on the sand;
Who know we shall not reach the Promised Land;
Perhaps a mirage glistening through our tears.

And if there be this Promised Land indeed,
Our children's children's children's heritage,
Oh, what a prodigal waste of precious seed,
Of myriad myriad lives from age to age,
Of woes and agonies and blank despairs,
Through countless cycles, that some fortunate heirs
May enter, and conclude the pilgrimage!

But if it prove a mirage after all!
Our last illusion leaves us wholly bare,
To bruise against Fate's adamantine wall,
Consumed or frozen in the pitiless air;
In all our world, beneath, around, above,
One only refuge, solace, triumph,--Love,
Sole star of light in infinite black despair.

Of antique fables! beautiful and bright,
And joyous with the joyous youth of yore;

[...] Read more

poem by James Thomson
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The Pastime of Pleasure : The First Part.

Here begynneth the passe tyme of pleasure.

Ryyght myghty prynce / & redoubted souerayne
Saylynge forthe well / in the shyppe of grace
Ouer the wawes / of this lyfe vncertayne
Ryght towarde heuen / to haue dwellynge place
Grace dothe you guyde / in euery doubtfull cace
Your gouernaunce / dothe euermore eschewe
The synne of slouthe / enemy to vertewe
Grace stereth well / the grace of god is grete
Whiche you hathe brought / to your ryall se
And in your ryght / it hath you surely sette
Aboue vs all / to haue the soueraynte
Whose worthy power / and regall dygnyte
All our rancour / and our debate and ceace
Hath to vs brought / bothe welthe reste and peace
Frome whome dyscendeth / by the ryghtfull lyne
Noble pryuce Henry / to succede the crowne
That in his youthe / dothe so clerely shyne
In euery vertu / castynge the vyce adowne
He shall of fame / attayne the hye renowne
No doubte but grace / shall hym well enclose
Whiche by trewe ryght / sprange of the reed rose
Your noble grace / and excellent hyenes
For to accepte / I beseche ryght humbly
This lytell boke / opprest with rudenes
Without rethorycke / or colour crafty
Nothynge I am / experte in poetry
As the monke of Bury / floure of eloquence
Whiche was in tyme / of grete excellence
Of your predecessour / the .v. kynge henry
Vnto whose grace / he dyde present
Ryght famous bokes / of parfyte memory
Of his faynynge with termes eloquent
Whose fatall fyccyons / are yet permanent
Grounded on reason / with clowdy fygures
He cloked the trouthe / of all his scryptures
The lyght of trouthe / I lacke connynge to cloke
To drawe a curtayne / I dare not to presume
Nor hyde my mater / with a mysty smoke
My rudenes connynge / dothe so sore cōsume
Yet as I maye / I shall blowe out a fume
To hyde my mynde / vnderneth a fable
By conuert colour / well and probable
Besechynge your grace / to pardon myne ignoraunce
Whiche this fayned fable / to eschewe ydlenesse
Hane so compyled / now without doubtaunce
For to present / to your hye worthynesse
To folowe the trace / and all the parfytenesse
Of my mayster Lydgate / with due exercyse

[...] Read more

poem by Stephen Hawes
Added by Poetry Lover
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Freedom

This is my right
A right given by God
To live a free life
To live on freedom

I'm talking about freedom
I'm Talking about freedom
I will fight for the right
To live in freedom

Anyone
Who tries to take it away
Will have to answer
'Cause this is my right

I'm talking About Freedom
I'm talking about freedom
I will fight for the right
To live in freedom
Yeah! Oh-oh

We're talking about freedom
I'm talking about freedom
I will fight for the right
To Live In Freedom

Everybody talking about freedom
We will fight for the right
To live in freedom
Oh-oh

I'm talking about freedom
I'm talking about freedom
I will fight for the right
To live in freedom

I'm talking freedom
I'm talking about fredom
We will fight for the right
To live in freedom

song performed by Paul McCartney from Driving Rain
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dats What I'm Talkin About

[Missy]
Uhhhh
Ahhhh!
Have you ever been in the mind of a virgin?
It gets hot and curious (And ooaaa)
Well let me take you there
Are you ready, boy?
Come on baby, strap up, cause it might get serious (uh ooaaa!)
Now there will be some heat and some friction
polite)
And I want to see if you're into it
Intimate kisses and huggings so sentiment (ohhhhh!)
With you I might wanna spend my life
[Chorus 1]
You make the freak come up out me
Dats what I'm talkin' bout
Go 'head like it's my birthday
Dat-dats what I'm talking bout
You make me say oooaa! 'til I can't speak
Dats what I'm talkin' bout
Baby dat-dats what I'm talking bout
Dat-dats what I'm talkin' bout
You don't know just what you do, yea
Dats what I'm talkin' bout
When I'm rocking, slow dance with you
Dat-dats what I'm talking bout
Cause you put chills on my arm when we kiss, yea
Dats what I'm talkin' bout
Baby that-that's what I'm talking bout
Dat-dats what I'm talking bout..
ALRIGHT!
[R. Kelly]
Now all I wanna do is, baby
Is make your dove cry and make your body scream like
AAHHHHH!
Bet your bottem dollar
Can make you believe that you can fly (Yea)
Well, one hit of this sex weed
Guaranteed to get you high
Like a mutha for ya (No, baby)
You won't even know what day it is
Cause after I come from downtown
Girl I'ma wanna go another round, yea
Until you tell me carrisley stop
Put it like this
It's like fresh up out the kitchen
The way I got your oven so hot, mama
I'ma hit from the back, and the front, then the side, then bounce it up
and down like this
And baby, everyone gonna say you're a pimp

[...] Read more

song performed by Missy Elliott
Added by Lucian Velea
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All The Talking

I don't like the way I feel
But I don't understand
Why I hide the things I do
And I don't care who's wrong or right
I just need a reason,
A reason just to see it through
And I don't care if I've wasted all your time
'Cause there's dreams that go by
And dreams that you find
And I know what you mean
But I can't hear you
With all the talking, with all the talking
And I know how it seems
But I can't find you
With all the talking
I never mentioned love affairs
That run through my mind
And all the faces you won't see
And you don't know your words have changed
So you keep talking
And there might be something for me
And I don't care if I've wasted all your time
'Cause there's dreams that go by
And dreams that you find
And I know what you mean
But I can't hear you
With all the talking, with all the talking
And I know how it seems
But I can't find you
With all the talking
Can't you feel it
Can't you see
This world just gets me down
When all at once you find a way
To be satisfied
And I don't like the way I feel
But I don't understand
Why I hide the things I do
And I don't care who's wrong or right
I just need a reason,
I need a reason,
I need a reason
Oh I know what you mean
But I can't hear you
With all the talking, with all the talking
And I know how it seems
But I can't find you
With all the talking, with all the talking
I know what you mean,
I know what you mean,

[...] Read more

song performed by Tiffany
Added by Lucian Velea
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Talking China Doll Dreams of Merry Go Round, Playground & Fairy Stage

Fair fairy tales would be perfect for putting child to bed,
inciting images of speedy spinner merry-go-round or swings instesad,
for once ignoring the bare wood or carpet
which level inner sides of the house to let.

Listen to talking over obscure passage abiss
that drops as the gentle rain from heaven's bliss
of the midwinter's nightmarish dream,
that most fairies piece together in writing a reem.

Legendary voices appear as light, flexible and round ales
who are drunk upon observing intoxicating illustrations to fairy tales.
For the poet, without talking about it.
is being there were gone except for royal wit.

However under fairy tales of old bloat
the wizard encounters the talking scape goat.
Metamorphosis of stork to love is unlike modern fairy tale
of wolves abd talking animals where imginative realms fail.

With merry nonchalance man and beast encounter each other
in obnoxious gossiping all over this book in smother.
On the stage will be seen the actual play operated
just as it is operational all seem to have done liberated.

On her frock the doll wore a yellow ribbon and made dismayed more.
Dolls face reality in this versional reversion score.
Glittering fountains in forgotten fairy tale draw what you
regards as gentlemen, friends and brought back talk out of the blue.

Dreams appeal naturally of course, to you
that without looking round wants to compare old with new,
Or not yet created, in talking to himself or with audience,
asking what was the man other than personified benevolence.

Protagonist in play gets a porcelain doll
which the protagonist covets less than a troll;
having always a merry day, when asunder in party,
parting in fine clothes and gay laughter hearty.

When up in the morning, recalled his dream and before
in prefernce of dreams of future wind and more,
yet not indicating despair to merry friend
talking about later reading tale to end.

Unveiled doll gazes at crescent moon, sun and star
past the merry-go-round, carousel and picturesque postcards from afar.
The of and to is to with of that what is to he
for merciful merriment's enjoy and benefit for all to see.

[...] Read more

poem by Hercolena Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
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