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I Don't Understand It!

3 out 5 used you! !
And, they paid 60 Euro each!
But, i don't understand it;
Because, your ways are not like my ways.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Paid The Price

See notes below
Well Im sick and tired
Of your alibis,
And your indiscreet lies
Just wont get you by,
Over and over and over and over again.
And your family,
Your forced superiority,
Your azure delusions of grandeur,
Are gonna cut you free,
Over and over and over and over again.
Youre as cold as ice.
Ahh, youre not miss nice,
And I paid the price.
Ahh, you can count me out.
Oh, without a doubt,
I paid the price.
And up and down, round, round you go,
But you know one monkey
Dont stop no show.
Its plain to see
Youre in need of help,
But I just cant go on
And whip myself
Over and over and over, over again.
Ahh, you can count me out.
Ahh, without a doubt,
You know, I paid the price.
Ahh, youre not miss nice.
Youre as cold as ice,
And I paid the price.
Yes I did.
You know I did.
And I just wanna know
Whos your sponsor.
I just wanna know, oh,
I just a-wanna know, oh,
I just a-wanna know, oh,
Whos your angel.
{backup singers} [i paid the price.]
Sing the song.
[i paid the price.]
[i paid the price.]
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your angel.
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your sponsor.
[i paid the price.]
And be good to your angel.
[i paid the price.]

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ten Euro Note

Ten Euro Note

The old road into town is only used by walkers
now, weird people, who would look out of place
anywhere else and Marian Hyde, who writes
about alternative lifestyles, in the Guardian.

I had found a wallet with a twenty euro note,
photos of a posing nude woman, it belonged to
someone named Carol. I asked around, they all
knew her, a pro who often walked this way.

A handmade and of real leather and on and
impulse I added a ten euro note and wondered
if when I caught up with her she would notice,
or was my motive more self serving?

I met up with Carol at a road side pub gave her
the purse, she opened it counted the money,
said nothing, but she was talking to a footballer
who wanted to be tennis professional.

I walked where I was accosted by a Liverpool
comedian who couldn’t stop telling jokes,
I soon stopped laughing, smiling and listening,
but my disinterest didn’t matter anyway.

Carol came out, joined us, she had bought me
a beer and was in a good mood, the comedian
had fallen asleep, she knew the why of my ten
euro note and I knew of her nude pictures.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Vacuous Space

Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And the winners,
Had been the merchants...
Breathing royalty,
On 5th Avenue!

Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And the bleeding of the people....
Had been seen from their limousines!

Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And It's an off beat situation,
To see the homeless
Pushing carts...
Up on these scenes!

Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous space...
In the head,
Once getting paid to lead!
And the trickling of this meanness...
Is a payback for those,
Who had chose to steal
Away sweet dreams!

Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead!
It's an off beat situation
Getting fixed...
As the kings are dragged
Screaming
With tainted hands
Bitten and bloodied
By those they chose
To live in tattered clothes
Hungry and suffering
Squeezed from the cream
That was theirs all the time

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

[...] Read more

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

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
The angry boy a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you dont belong
Youre the first to fight
Youre way too loud
Youre the flash of light on a burial shroud
I know somethings wrong
Well everyone I know has got a reason
To say put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
Well hes on the table and hes gone to code
And I do not think anyone knows
What theyre doing here
And your friends have left you
Youve been dismissed
I never thought it would come to this
And i, I want you to know
Everyones got to face down the demons
Maybe today
You could put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
Understand
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Can you put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
And I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand

song performed by Third Eye Blind
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Understand Each Other

We understand each other
Bull!
You hear some distant drummer play
I think we understand each other
Have you no else to offer?
Poor boy!
I have expenses to defray
I hope we understand each other
We have a problem
Yes, but its not that we
Dont understand each other
Oh brother!
When they say understand
They gotta mean fairyland
For twenty tons of silver
She sold him into stir
And when it gets his freedom back
He throws it away over her
When he says understand
He must mean some other girl
Ill never comprehend
My putrid taste in men
Its not fair I love
Each little hair and he
Dont even care about me
When she says understand
Must mean some other man
Our preconceptions to retain
Were obliged to exclaim
We understand each other
We hear some distant drummer play
Must mean we understand each other
Oh brother!
If theres a problem
Well admit it
Not that we dont understand each other
Each other
When they say understand
Its like wendy and peter pan
Have you ever met somebody
More self-involved than he?
This has got to be a miracle
The man has divine empathy
What could be wrong with me?
I know his repartee
Insincere
Hes down
There, Im up here
But whenever hes near
Its some kind of divine empathy

[...] Read more

song performed by Todd Rundgren
Added by Lucian Velea
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102

First one paid nine
then, two paid eight
then three paid seven
then, four paid six
then five paid five
then six paid four
then seven paid three
then eight paid two
and finally, nine paid one,
wee, wee, wee, wee, wee
all the way home.

poem by Morgan Michaels
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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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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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They don't understand

They don't understand,
What its like to be me.
They don't understand,
Why school is hard for me.
They don't understand,
Why I'm so skinny.
They don't understand,
Why I have no friends.

They don't understand,
What I need.
They don't understand,
Why I lie.
They don't understand,
Why life is hard.
They don't understand,
What life is like for me.
They don't understand,
Why I hurt.
They don't understand,
Why I have fears.
They don't understand,
Why I'm different.

I don't understand,
Why they don't like me.
I don't understand,
Why they don't except me.
I don't understand,
What they say.
I don't understand,
Why they don't undersatnd,
Me...

poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II

THE ARGUMENT

The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.

THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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Fingertips

Everything is catching
Yes, everything is catching on fire
(everythings catching on fire)
Everything is catching on fire (everythings catching on fire)
Fingertips
Fingertips
Fingertips
I hear the wind blow
I hear the wind blow
It seems to say, hello, hello,
Im the one who loves you so.
Hey now everybody now
Hey now everybody
Hey now everybody now
Whos that standing out my window?
I found a new friend
Underneath my pillow
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Arent you the guy who hit me in the eye?
Arent you the guy who hit me in the eye?
Please pass the milk, please
Please pass the milk, please
Please pass the milk, please
Leave me alone, leave me alone
Whos knocking on the wall?
All alone all alone
All by myself
Whats that blue thing doing here?
Something grabbed ahold of my hand
I didnt know what had my hand
But thats when all my troubles began
I dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I just dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I dont understand the things you say
I cant understand a single word
I dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I just dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I cannot understand you (I dont understand you)
I dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I heard a sound, I turned around
I turned around to find the thing
That made the sound
Mysterious whisper
Mysterious whisper
Mysterious whisper
Mysterious whisper
The day that love came to play

[...] Read more

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Two Ways To Play

Somethin' crossed my mind again
You were in my eyes
It was somewhere out by Bombay
And I'm tellin' all those lies
I've been there and you've been there
And there ain't no mistake
We could take it anyway
But the one thing we can't fake
There's just two ways to play
Just two ways to play
And I don't want to stay
There's just two ways to play
And I'm gonna play it right, this time
Yeah
There's always the easy numbers
There's those hard ways too
There's those cheaters blunders
It's either one of two
But fortune telling's mezmorizing
In the game of chance
But rollin' dice ain't sympathizing
When you play romance
There's just two ways to play
Just two ways to play
And I don't want to stay
There's just two ways to play
I can't control the numbers
I can't control your sexy ways
I can't control my inner thunder
It makes me want????????
Two ways to play
There's Just two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
I'm gonna play it right this time
There's two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
Two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
And I don't want to stay
There's just two ways to play

song performed by ZZ Top
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Garden of Years

I

I have shut fast the door, and am alone
With the sweet memory of this afternoon,
That saw my vague dreams on a sudden grown
Into fulfilment, as I oft have known
Stray notes upon a keyboard fall atune
When least persuaded. I besought no boon
Of Fate to-day; I that, since first Love came
Into my life, have been so importune.
To-day alone I did not press my claim,
And lo! all I have dreamed of is my own!

II

I have shut fast the door, for so I may
Relive that moment of the turn of tide—
That swift solution of the long delay
That clothed with silver splendor dying day;
And, with low-whispering memory for guide,
See once again your startled eyes confide
The secret of surrender; and your hand
Flutter toward mine, before you turn aside—
And the gold wings of young consent expand
Fresh from the cracking chrysalis of Nay!

III

I did not dare to speak at first. It seemed
A thing unreal, that with the air might blend—
That strange swift signal—and I feared I dreamed!
Ahead, the city’s lamps, converging, gleamed
To a thin angle at the street’s far bend,
And, as we neared, each from its column’s end
Stepped out, and past us, furtive, slipped away:
Nor could Love’s self a longer respite lend
The radiant moments of our shortening day,
That Time, the donor, one by one redeemed.

IV

We spoke of eloquently empty things;
Of younger days that were before we met,
The trivial acts to which the memory clings,
And in familiar spots unbidden brings
To mind, when graver matters we forget.
The sacred secret lay unspoken, yet
Hovered, half-veiled, between our conscious eyes,
Touched with an indefinable regret
For that swift moment of our love’s surprise—

[...] Read more

poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1901)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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How Can It Hurt

(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
Maybe youre just too upset inside to give it to me straight
Maybe youve become too angry and too close to crying to say anything I can understand
Or maybe youre just coming in over my head
Maybe youre just too upset inside too upset inside
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
Youre never gonna square with me I know so what is there to say?
Theres a million words that we could share tonight
Why do you walk away?
And I could write you off and its over with like a damaged car I cant afford to fix
But everything inside me wants to heal your pain
You wont explain
You wont explain
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt, how can it hurt
Well I dont understand
Well I dont understand
Tell me how can it hurt
Well I dont understand
Tell me how can it hurt
Well I dont understand

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Carrolling II-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

Carolling II

He Thought He Saw

He thought he saw new Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and found it was
a mirage for each year
sees more control, “what rôle, ” he said,
“for values once held dear?
Some track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.'

He dreamt he saw spam disappear,
all consultations free,
he looked again and found it was
a spybot lottery.
“Is net neutrality”, he said,
“from rash risks viral clear? ”

He dreamt that Microsoft would steer
all trash deleted fast,
then woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello,
with an attachment piece,
he looked again and found it was
the porno scanning police.
“Politically correct”, he said,
“can’t guarantee release.”

He opened it, discovered though,
a trojan horse to fleece –
he looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice hoarse and low:
'when will our worries cease? ”

He thought he saw a hierophant,
who’d deal successful life,
he looked again and found it was
subpoena from ex-wife
demanding child support, he said,
“cards are cut by Time’s knife.”

He looked once more with rage and rant
and swore like a fishwife

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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In Your Own Ways

You are smart in your own ways
you are lovely in your own ways
you are beautiful in your own ways
You smile in your own ways

So crazy in your own ways
The madness of your own ways
such mysterious in your own ways
Those eyes of your own ways

You inspire me in your own ways
You talk in you own ways
you love me in your own ways
You suprise me in your own ways

Your kindness of its own kind
Your love of its own loveliness
your touch of its own comfort
And your kisses of its own sweetness

There is nothing so much worth to
treasure in my own ways than the
sweet memories of your own ways
Your life in your own ways
changes mine in its own way

God must have taken His own time
for sush a creation of its own kind
With everything in its own way
I must live your way.

poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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If I Could

If I could make my living going fishing
Then I would make my living with a line and pole
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money going fishing like Im paid at the factory
If I could pay all these bills with my guitar
Then I would pay these bills with some rock and roll
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money playing guitar like Im paid at the factory
Chorus:
Now if I could (if I could)
Then I would (then I would)
Make money doing something that I love
Id thank my lucky stars above
If I could just get by loving you dear
Then I would just get by making love to you
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Repeat chorus:
If I could make my living going fishing
Then I would make my living with a line and pole
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money going fishing
Like Im paid at the factory
Repeat chorus:
If I could just get by loving you dear
Then I would just get by making love to you
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory

song performed by John Prine
Added by Lucian Velea
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