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The Lost Dancer

Spatial depths of being survive
The birth to death recurrences
Of feet dancing on earth of sand;
Vibrations of the dance survive
The sand; the sand, elect, survives
The dancer. He can find no source
Of magic adequate to bind
The sand upon his feet, his feet
Upon his dance, his dance upon
The diamond body of his being.

poem by Jean Toomer
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Magic Dance

You remind me of the baby
What baby? baby with the power
What power? power of voodoo
Who do? you do
Do what? remind me of the baby
I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry
What could I do
My babys love had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew
What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free
I saw my baby, trying hard as babe could try
What could I do
My babys fun had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew
What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that baby spell on me (ooh)
You remind me of the baby
What baby? the baby with the power
What power? power of voodoo
Who do? you do

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
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Beldame of Death

A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!

I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.

I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.

Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.

A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…

'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '

Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:

'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!

Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '

I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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John, I'm Only Dancing

(dancing) i'm having so much love
(dancing) too bad my back had gone
(dancing) boogie down with daddy now
I'd give my house in the country
If you'd slept it's so funky
(music) i'm dancing in the street
(ooh music) i've torn the shoes from my feet
(romancing) it's got me dirty and sweet
It's got you reeling and rocking
Won't you let the slender thing in
(rolling) i think it's all i can do
(rolling) just got me feeling you too
(rolling) get a little take a little
Get a little back
Jumping john the great goose is gone
Got a lion in my hand
Got a charlie on my back
(john) i'm only dancing
(she turns me on) i'm only dancing
(she turns me on) oh get you with me
(don't get me wrong) ah ha ha ha ha
(i'm only dancing, oh ho hooo)
(i'm only dancing, oh ho hooo)
(dancing) have you heard the news
(dancing) president has got the blues
(dancing) i tell you comfortably
If he gives it to you
He'd better take it from me
(said sir) i pick up the bones
(said sir) leave the numbers alone
(said sir) get off your telephone
Look the people in the eye
Tell them my oh my
Let your backbone slide
Buddy whistle and cry
(john)
(she turns me on) la la la la
(don't get me wrong) hmm hm hm
(i'm only dancing, oh hooo)
(john) i'm only dancing
(she turns me on) ah ha ha i'm only dancing
(she turns me on) i lost my feel
(don't get me wrong) i'm off on my way
(i'm only dancing, oh hooo) please dance with me
(i'm only dancing) please dance with me
(i'm only dancing, oh hooo)
(dancing, dancing, dancing, woh woh woh)
(dancing, dancing, dancing, woh woh woh)
(dancing, dancing, dancing, woh woh woh)
(dancing) i'm only (dancing) i'm only (dancing) i'm only (woh woh woh)

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song performed by David Bowie
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Sexy Dancer

Sexy dancer
Sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, you got my body screamin
Sexy dancer, you got me just-a-creamin
Sexy dancer, when you rub my body
Sexy dancer, it gets me so hot...hot!
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, do that sexy dance
Sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Hot!

song performed by Prince
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Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Wild Dancing

Dance to the beat
Dance to the beat
Dance to the beat
Wild dancing [wild dancing]
Dance to the beat
Da, da, da, dance
Looking for some wild dancing
Looking for some wild dancing
[Wi, wi , wi, wild dancing]
[Wild dancing]
Dance to the beat
Da, da, da, dance
Da, da, da, dance to the beat
Looking for some wild dancing
Wild dancing
Wild dancing beat
Dancing beat
Wi, wild da, dancing
Dancing beat
Be, be, be, beat
Da, da, da, dancing beat
Wild dancing
Wi, wild
Dancing beat
Wild dancing
Wild dancing
Wi, wi, wild dancing
Wild dancing
Wild dancing
[Wild dancing]
Wild dancing
[Wild dancing]
Wild dancing
[Wild dancing]
Dance to the beat
Dance to the beat
Wi, wild da, dance
Wild dancing
Dancing beat
Wild dancing
Wild, wild
Dance to the beat
Wild dancing
Wild, wild
[Wild dancing]
Wild dancing
Dance to the beat
Dance to the beat
[Wild dancing]
Dance to the beat

[...] Read more

song performed by Madonna
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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.

He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Good Vibrations

I, I love the colorful clothes she wears
And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair
I hear the sound of a gentle word
On the wind that lifts her perfume through the air
Im pickin up good vibrations
Shes giving me excitations
Im pickin up good vibrations
(oom bop bop good vibrations)
Shes giving me excitations
(oom bop bop excitations)
Good good good good vibrations
(oom bop bop)
Shes giving me excitations
(oom bop bop excitations)
Good good good good vibrations
(oom bop bop)
Shes giving me excitations
(oom bop bop excitations)
Close my eyes
Shes somehow closer now
Softly smile, I know she must be kind
When I look in her eyes
She goes with me to a blossom world
Im pickin up good vibrations
Shes giving me excitations
Im pickin up good vibrations
(oom bop bop good vibrations)
Shes giving me excitations
(oom bop bop excitations)
Good good good good vibrations
(oom bop bop)
Shes giving me excitations
(oom bop bop excitations)
Good good good good vibrations
(oom bop bop)
Shes giving me excitations
(oom bop bop excitations)
(ahhhhhhh)
(ah my my what elation)
I dont know where but she sends me there
(ah my my what a sensation)
(ah my my what elations)
(ah my my what)
Gotta keep those lovin good vibrations
A happenin with her
Gotta keep those lovin good vibrations
A happenin with her
Gotta keep those lovin good vibrations
A happenin
Ahhhhhhhh

[...] Read more

song performed by Beach Boys
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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal

Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.

First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?

Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;

[...] Read more

poem by Lucretius
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Magic dance (lyrics)

You remind me of the babe,
(What babe.)
Babe with the power,
(What power.)
The power of voodoo,
(who do?)
You do!
(Do what.)
Remind me of the babe.

I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,
What could I do.
My baby's love had gone and left my baby blue,
No one ever knew.

What kind of magic spell to use.
Slime and snails.
Puppy dog tails.
Thunder and lightning.

And baby said,
Dance, magic dance. (Dance Magic dance.)
Dance, magic dance. (Dance Magic dance.)
Put that magic dance on me.
Jump, magic jump. (Jump, Magic jump.)
Jump, magic jump. (Jump, Magic jump.)
Put that magic spell on me.

I saw my baby trying hard as babe could try,
What could I do.
My baby's love had gone adn left my baby blue.
No one ever knew.

What kind of magic spell to use.
Slime and snails.
Puppy dog tails.
Thunder and lightning.

And baby said,
Dance, magic dance. (Dance Magic dance.)
Dance, magic dance. (Dance Magic dance.)
Put that magic dance on me.
Jump, magic jump. (Jump, Magic jump.)
Jump, magic jump. (Jump, Magic jump.)
Put that magic spell on me.

What kind of magic spell to use.
Slime and snails.
Puppy dog tails.
Thunder and lightning.

[...] Read more

poem by Satan's Sibling
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Pharsalia - Book VI: The Fight Near Dyrhachium. Scaeva's Exploits. The Witch Of Thessalia.

Now that the chiefs with minds intent on fight
Had drawn their armies near upon the hills
And all the gods beheld their chosen pair,
Caesar, the Grecian towns despising, scorned
To reap the glory of successful war
Save at his kinsman's cost. In all his prayers
He seeks that moment, fatal to the world,
When shall be cast the die, to win or lose,
And all his fortune hang upon the throw.
Thrice he drew out his troops, his eagles thrice,
Demanding battle; thus to increase the woe
Of Latium, prompt as ever: but his foes,
Proof against every art, refused to leave
The rampart of their camp. Then marching swift
By hidden path between the wooded fields
He seeks, and hopes to seize, Dyrrhachium's fort;
But Magnus, speeding by the ocean marge,
First camped on Petra's slopes, a rocky hill
Thus by the natives named. From thence he keeps
Watch o'er the fortress of Corinthian birth
Which by its towers alone without a guard
Was safe against a siege. No hand of man
In ancient days built up her lofty wall,
No hammer rang upon her massive stones:
Not all the works of war, nor Time himself
Shall undermine her. Nature's hand has raised
Her adamantine rocks and hedged her in
With bulwarks girded by the foamy main:
And but for one short bridge of narrow earth
Dyrrhachium were an island. Steep and fierce,
Dreaded of sailors, are the cliffs that bear
Her walls; and tempests, howling from the west,
Toss up the raging main upon the roofs;
And homes and temples tremble at the shock.

Thirsting for battle and with hopes inflamed
Here Caesar hastes, with distant rampart lines
Seeking unseen to coop his foe within,
Though spread in spacious camp upon the hills.
With eagle eye he measures out the land
Meet to be compassed, nor content with turf
Fit for a hasty mound, he bids his troops
Tear from the quarries many a giant rock:
And spoils the dwellings of the Greeks, and drags
Their walls asunder for his own. Thus rose
A mighty barrier which no ram could burst
Nor any ponderous machine of war.
Mountains are cleft, and level through the hills
The work of Caesar strides: wide yawns the moat,
Forts show their towers rising on the heights,

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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How a Little Girl Danced

DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES

(Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.)

Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain.
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain:
Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer,
With foot like the snow, and with step like the rain.

Oh, thrice-painted dancer, vaudeville dancer,
Sad in your spangles, with soul all astrain,
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose laughter and weeping are spiritual gain,
A pure-hearted, high-hearted maiden evangel,
With strength the dark cynical earth to disdain.

Flowers of bright Broadway, you of the chorus,
Who sing in the hope of forgetting your pain:
I turn to a sister of Sainted Cecilia,
A white bird escaping the earth's tangled skein:—
The music of God is her innermost brooding,
The whispering angels her footsteps sustain.

Oh, proud Russian dancer: praise for your dancing.
No clean human passion my rhyme would arraign.
You dance for Apollo with noble devotion,
A high cleansing revel to make the heart sane.
But Judith the dancer prays to a spirit
More white than Apollo and all of his train.

I know a dancer who finds the true Godhead,
Who bends o'er a brazier in Heaven's clear plain.
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Who lifts us toward peace, from this earth that is vain:
Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer,
With foot like the snow, and with step like the rain.

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Look Who's Dancing

Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now
Look who's dancing
oh look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now
Well, first the dance floor
was like a forbidden land
where people would never dare to go
but now everyone's doing it
I said it's a dance galore
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now
Look who's dancing
oh look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now
And some are dancing on their feet
some are jumping off the floor
and look at old Granny "B"
she got the, she caught the, she knows the groove for sure
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now, right around
Look who's dancing
who is dancing
Look who's dancing now, get on the floor
(groove section)
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now, around the world
Look who's dancing
oh look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now
And some are dancing on their feet
some are jumping off the floor
and look at old Tauter him
he got the, he got the, he got the, he got the beat for sure
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing
Look who's dancing now
Look who's dancing
check the dancing
Look who's dancing now, get on the floor
(groove section)
Do the ska, the rock steady, the ridim and blues
and if you catch them, then you do the della move
it nuh mek nuh sense to sit down, when you know you can goove
any type of danve you do, you neither win or lose
And if your choice is reggae, you don't need nuh dancing shoes

[...] Read more

song performed by Ziggy Marley
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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Strange Magic

Youre sailing softly through the sun
In a broken stone age dawn.
You fly so high.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Youre walking meadows in my mind,
Making waves across my time,
Oh no, oh no.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Oh, Im never gonna be the same again,
Now Ive seen the way its got to end,
Sweet dream, sweet dream.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Its magic, its magic, its magic.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic,
You know I got a strange magic,
Yeah, I got a strange magic,
Oo-o-o-oo, strange magic. (fade)

song performed by Electric Light Orchestra
Added by Lucian Velea
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Diamond In The Back

Gangsta whitewalls, TV antennas in the back (the back, the back...)
[Chorus]
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
And I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
diamond in the, diamond in the, diamond in the...
[Verse 1]
It's hard growin' up lookin' at drug dealers wit' all this paper
Wonderin' how I can get me some
My family's strugglin', I'm buggin', sittin' on my porch
So confused, chewin' on some bubblegum
I was always taught to use my manners with the misses
But please, stay away from the hoes and snithes
And I was always reached for the sky, I dont know why
Ima little bitty kid wit' a whole buncha gangsta wishes
When I grow up, you just wait, Ima be so straight
And everything's gonna be so marvelous
No more borrowin' from the neighbors, no more haters
No more blowin' Nintendo cartridges
Ima have it made in the shade, Ima be so paid
And my fam, get 'em off that payin' them bills
Matta fact Im schemin' my way on up out this hood, I'll be good
When I ditch these trainin' wheels
[Chorus]
Diamond in the back
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
And I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
Diamond in the, diamond in the, diamond in the...
[Verse 2]
I'm sick and tired of ridin' public transportation
Been patient waitin' on my set of wheels
I'm willin' to do what it takes, whatever the stakes

[...] Read more

song performed by Ludacris
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dancing In The Streets

Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Dancing in the streets
With any one you got to meet
Moving to the rhythm
Let your body feel the beat
Dancing in the streets
Let your feelings hanging out
Give it all youve got
Keep on dancing, sing and shout!
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Dancing in the streets
With any one you got to meet
Moving to the rhythm
Let your body feel the beat
Dancing in the streets
Let your feelings hanging out
Give it all youve got
Keep on dancing, sing and shout!
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on...

song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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