There once was a tenant from Dent
Who's nose was all battered and bent;
His Landlord was mad
And he felt rather glad
He'd attacked him for missing his rent.
limerick by John Carter Brown
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Prince Dorus
In days of yore, as Ancient Stories tell,
A King in love with a great Princess fell.
Long at her feet submiss the Monarch sigh'd,
While she with stern repulse his suit denied.
Yet was he form'd by birth to please the fair,
Dress'd, danc'd, and courted, with a Monarch's air;
But Magic Spells her frozen breast had steel'd
With stubborn pride, that knew not how to yield.
This to the King a courteous Fairy told,
And bade the Monarch in his suit be bold;
For he that would the charming Princess wed,
Had only on her cat's black tail to tread,
When straight the Spell would vanish into air,
And he enjoy for life the yielding fair.
He thank'd the Fairy for her kind advice.-
Thought he, 'If this be all, I'll not be nice;
Rather than in my courtship I will fail,
I will to mince-meat tread Minon's black tail.'
To the Princess's court repairing strait,
He sought the cat that must decide his fate;
But when he found her, how the creature stared!
How her back bristled, and her great eyes glared!
That tail, which he so fondly hop'd his prize,
Was swell'd by wrath to twice its usual size;
And all her cattish gestures plainly spoke,
She thought the affair he came upon, no joke.
With wary step the cautious King draws near,
And slyly means to attack her in her rear;
But when he thinks upon her tail to pounce,
Whisk-off she skips-three yards upon a bounce-
Again he tries, again his efforts fail-
Minon's a witch-the deuce is in her tail.-
The anxious chase for weeks the Monarch tried,
Till courage fail'd, and hope within him died.
A desperate suit 'twas useless to prefer,
Or hope to catch a tail of quicksilver.-
When on a day, beyond his hopes, he found
Minon, his foe, asleep upon the ground;
Her ample tail hehind her lay outspread,
Full to the eye, and tempting to the tread.
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Lamb
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Glad All Over
You say that you love me, all of the time
You say that you need me, and you'll always be mine
I'm feelin'... glad all over (yes I'm)
Glad all over
Glad all over, so glad you're mine
I'll make you happy
You'll never be through
You have no sorrow
'Cause you'll always be true
I'm feelin'... glad all over (yes I'm)
Glad all over (ma, mama)
Glad all over, so glad you're mine
All the girls, they try to take me away
But you know, it's by your side I'll always stay...
I'll always stay (whoa yeah)
Oh, I'm feelin'... glad all over (yes I'm)
Glad all over (ma, mama)
Glad all over, so glad you mine
I'll over last love, till the end of time
Because it's love, it's all yours to claim
I'm feelin'... glad all over (yes I'm)
Glad all over (ma, mama)
Glad all over, so glad you're mine
All the girls, they try to take me away
But you know, it's by your side I'll always stay...
I'll always stay (whoa yeah)
I'm feelin'... glad all over (yes I'm)
Glad all over
Glad all over, so glad you're mine
I'm feelin'... glad all over (Mama I'ma)
Glad all over (yes I'm)
Glad all over, so glad you're mine
I'm fellin' glad glad glad (oh yeah)
Glad glad glad (Ooo, ooo, yeah)
Glad glad glad (oh yeah)
Glad glad glad (I know)
Glad glad glad (Ooo, ooo, yeah)
Glad glad (Ooo, whoooo)
song performed by Quiet Riot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Palace Flophouse
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's ever dead
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's every dead
mad dog, mad dog, mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (she looks onto my face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (and i looked right by you) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (she looked onto her face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's ever dead
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's every dead
mad dog, mad dog, mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i look onto her face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (and i walked right by you) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (she looked onto my face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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Finding Oneself......... [EXTREMELY LONG; Growing Up; Relationships; Humor
Part One
When Bri was 13 and in grade 8,
he noticed classmates beginning to date.
At school (other) boys got their way with the girls with a kiss.
But Bri didn't have the urge; he thought 'what's this? '
He decided he should give it a try,
but each time he tried, the girl would cry.
Not only would she cry; she would run away and hide.
Bri felt between himself and the other boys a great divide.
Back home after school he'd seclude himself in his room and cry.
Through his mind was repeated the question 'why? ' 'Why DO they cry? Why? '
Bri was a straight A+ student with no flubs.
He played football but (except for 'Cooking') he joined not clubs.
After a few months Bri gave up (on girls) . He had NO close friends to set him right;
his parents should have known the problem, but they weren't bright.
In high school he took AP courses, and took 3 courses at a nearby college.
He ignored girls and sports and concentrated on gaining knowledge.
He got a full scholarship to Harvard, but his advisor looked at him funny.
By age 26 he had his PhD in psychology and started making money.
But he still asked 'why? '
It still bothered him and at times he'd cry.
Then waking up one day from a dream, Bri suddenly asked himself 'were they shy?
And if so, why with ME and not the other boys? Why DID they cry? '
The answer could be that his brain and looks were superior.
Were those girls only uncomfortable with boys that were inferior (to him) ?
If that really was the answer, he could now save face,
and could pursue women with HIS high level of brains, looks, and grace.
(But WAS it the answer? He was still not SURE why they did cry.)
For now he would work hard, avoid girls, and try to keep his eyes dry.
In two more years would be a second high school reunion. Thoughts of attending gave Bri a fright. (He'd skipped the first,5 year, reunion.)
But by going this time he might find out if his answer to his 'why? ' was right.
PART TWO
For two more years he waited anxiously for invitation he was dreading.
At times he'd awaken at night from a 'reunion dream', profusely sweating.
Finally it arrived in mail; it would be in June, before it got TOO warm.
He kept his calendar free for the whole month, doubting, at work, he could perform.
He got out the yearbooks his Mom had bought, and he studied each girl's name.
Would he have the nerve to ask them 'why? ' ….OR would he be too scared and lame?
He lived on sedatives for a week. He picked his favorite tie, and a light grey business suit.
Would he find out if the girls had just been shy, or would they give him 'the boot'?
[...] Read more
poem by Bri Edwards
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Mad Not Mad
The windows are open wide
Georgie fame for those outside
And answering the call
Blue flames leap up the wall
Who would have thought it strange
That all of us would change
Out there in the hall
The shadows leave the wall
Then we had the plan
Back when it began
And as we turn we know
That one of us will go
(would you) dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Over the hills and far away
Arm in arm
Mad not mad
A star-spangled sight
Silhouettes at night
Dancing over big ben
Seven ragged men
Up up and away
Forever and a day
(would you) dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Over the hills and far away
Arm in arm
Mad not mad
Dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Beyond the reach of yesterday
What are we but our friends
Mad not mad
(mad not mad)
Hello crazy gang
Goodbye with a bang
What are we but our friends
Sailing round the bend
In love through thick and thin
I know it will all win
(would you) dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Over the hills and far away
Arm in arm
Mad not mad
Dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Beyond the reach of yesterday
What are we but our friends
Mad not mad
Dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
As only you can
Enjoying his company
song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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If Walls Could Talk
(bobby miller)
Well, if things could talk then Im sure youd hear
A lot of things to make you cry my dear
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
Oh, aint you glad [aint you glad]
Aint you glad [glad]
Glad that things dont talk
Now, if shoes could tell where theyve been
When you say youve been visiting a friend
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
He-he-hey, aint you glad [aint you glad]
But aint you glad [glad]
Glad that shoes dont talk
Now, if doors could tell whos turned the knob
When hes away out on his job
If cars could tell whos been inside
And whos been taking you out for a ride
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
Oh, aint you glad [aint you glad]
But aint you glad [glad]
Glad that cars dont talk
In a world of trouble Id be
If things ever told on me
My whole life would be through
cause Im guilty, how about you ?
If things ever talk that way
Aint no telling what they might say
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
Oh, aint you glad [aint you glad]
Aint you glad [glad]
Glad that things dont talk
song performed by Ry Cooder
Added by Lucian Velea
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The highwayman
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.
PART TWO
He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Noyes
Added by Dan Costinaş
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The Canon Of Aughrim
You ask me of English honour, whether your Nation is just?
Justice for us is a word divine, a name we revere,
Alas, no more than a name, a thing laid by in the dust.
The world shall know it again, but not in this month or year.
Honour? Oh no, you profane it. Justice? What words! What deeds!
Look at the suppliant Earth with its living burden of men.
Here and to Hindostan the nations and kings and creeds
Praise your name as a god's, the god of their children slain.
Which of us doubts your justice? It is not here in the West,
After six hundred years of pitiless legal war,
The sons of our soil are in doubt. They know, who have borne it, best:
The world is famished for justice. You give us a stone, your law.
These are its fruits. Yet, think you, the Ireland where men weep
Once was a jubilant land and dear to the Saints of God.
All you have made it to--day is a hell to conquer and keep,
Yours by the right of the strongest hand, the right of the rod.
History tells the story in signs deep writ on the soil,
Plain and clear in indelible type both for fools and wise.
Here is no need of books, of any expositor's coil.
He who runs may read, and he may weep who has eyes.
This is the plain of Aughrim, renowned in our Irish story
Because of the blood that was shed, the last in arms by our sons,
A fight in battle array, with more of grief than of glory,
Where as a Nation we died to dirge of your English guns.
So the Chroniclers tell us, and turn in silence their page,
Ending the fighting here. I tell you the Chroniclers lie.
Spite of the hush of the dead, the battle from age to age
Flames on still through the land, and still at men's hands men die.
Look! I will show you the footsteps of those who have died at your hand,
Done to death by your law, alas, and not by the sword,
Only their work remaining, a nations's track in the sand,
Ridge and furrow of ancient fields half hid in the sward.
Step by step they retreated. You fenced them out with your Pale,
Back from township and city and cornland fair by the Sea.
Waterford, Youghal and Wexford you took and the Golden Vale.
Tears were their portion assigned: for you their demesnes in fee.
Back to the forest and bog. They shouldered their spades like men,
Fought with the wolf and the rock and the hunger which holds the hill.
Still new homesteads arose where fever lurked in the fen,
Still your law was a sword that hunted and dogged them still.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Opera or Ballet
Oh joyous delight - finally reached the end of
my lovely Agreement, it should be an opera
sung to the music of Carmina Burana - if a
ballet, danced to the courtiers’ march in
Romeo and Juliet, the climax amazing
The tenant should fund the bill for drafting and
signing the serious contract, the self-satisfied
landlord can inspect and evict as he likes, the
effacing tenant had better beware - I see two
men in Victorian clothing - fencing
About the nefarious terms, no favours shall
nullify the terms by which the landlord can
pocket the deposit, any wrong step made
by the tenant shall render beneficial
occupation impossible - Should the
tenant improve the premises, no advantage
shall accrue to him, should the place burn
down - it will be seen as a scheme and he
shall be held responsible, the end to be
perfect - The angry tenant
shall kill the overbearing landlord with one
blow, then enjoy exercising his right to
beneficial occupation indefinitely - at
least, in the opera or ballet
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Added by Poetry Lover
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Rent
(again... again... again... ooooh
(again... again... again... again... ...)
You dress me up, Im your puppet
You buy me things, I love it
You bring me food, I need it
You give me love, I feed it
And look at the two of us in sympathy
With everything we see
I never want anything, its easy
You buy whatever I need
But look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
You phone me in the evening on hearsay
And bought me caviar
You took me to a restaurant off broadway
To tell me who you are
We never-ever argue, we never calculate
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
Im your puppet
I love it
And look at the two of us in sympathy
And sometimes ecstasy
Words mean so little, and money less
When youre lying next to me
But look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
(ooooh) ooh, I love you, you pay my rent
Look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
Look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent (its easy, its so easy)
(ooooh) you pay my rent (its easy, its so easy)
(ooooh) you pay my rent (its easy, its so easy)
(ooooh) I love you (its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
[...] Read more
song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Miss You (remix)
What's up baby girl! (Ho!)
Thought I had to talk to you again, missing you (Hey, ey, ey, ey)
Tim is missing you Missy's missing you
Rashad is missing you your mom is missing you (N-n-n-n-no no no)
Your pop is missing you Dame is missing you damn we missing you whooh!
All we listen to is all the different yous
Four page letters in addition to
Have you ever loved somebody used to get the party poppin
We used to party hop, we used to be in the Hampton's partied a lot
We was The Breakfast Club you was a part of the ROC
We used to make up special names for the food we ate
Remember serial pie one of your favourite plates (I miss you)
Well Dame told me tell you he's doin well
Due to the circumstances, it could've been Bellevue
But I ain't got to tell you, you lookin over us
Our little angel, but you know what
Brooklyn's missing you Detroit is missing you
New Orleans missing you Philly's missing you
(It's been too long and I'm lost without you)
Your uncle's missing you your families missing you
Your fans is missing you the galleries missing you
Damn we missing you
(It's been too long and I'm lost without you)
Now Star is mad I won't grant him a interview
Now he's dissing me cause he dissed you
Can you believe the nerve of this dude?
Cause of your memory I won't bring in the pistols
(Wondering if your the same and who's been with you)
But he got issues enough of that lame
I never seen pain like your parents pain
But I know God protecting you
You used to read Seed Of The soul I know God perfecting you (I miss you)
All the estrogens the darker texture you are the more intellectual
You are so professional our little purple
song performed by Jay-Z
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mrs. Train
Mrs. Train
I don't want to be first in line to see Mrs. Train
I expect that it doesn't matter to Mrs. Train
Being comfortable with yourself
And being patient and taking your time
Are the things that Mrs. Train can understand
I've never seen a train like this before
But then again there's never been
A train like this before like Mrs. Train
And someone's got to be the one to declare
That they want to be next in line to see Mrs. Train
But I don't want to be first in line to see Mrs. Train
I expect that it doesn't matter to Mrs. Train
Being patient and taking your time
Are things a train can understand
And I'll be happy when I finally take her hand
There's never been a train like this before.
Someone's got to be the one
At the head of the line to first see Mrs. Train.
But I'm not in any rush to head the line
And so the line has a missing head.
And I don't want to be first in line to see the missing head
I expect that it doesn't matter to the missing head
Being patient and taking your time
Are things that a head can understand
And I'll be happy when I finally take its hand
There's never been a head like this before
Someone's got to be the one
At the head of the line to first see the missing head
But I'm not in any rush to head the line
And so the line has a missing head
(Missing head) And I don't want to be first in line to see the missing head
(Missing head) I expect that it doesn't matter to the missing head
Being patient and taking your time
Are things that a head can understand
And I'll be happy when I finally take its hand
(Missing head) And I don't want to be first in line to see the missing head
(Missing head) I expect that it doesn't matter to the missing head
Being patient and taking your time
Are things that a head can understand
And I'll be happy when I finally take its hand
(Missing head) I don't want to be first in line to see the missing head
(Missing head) I expect that it doesn't matter to the missing head
Being patient and taking your time
Are things that a head can understand
And I'll be happy when I finally take its hand
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Primus
Incipit Liber Secundus
Inuidie culpa magis est attrita dolore,
Nam sua mens nullo tempore leta manet:
Quo gaudent alii, dolet ille, nec vnus amicus
Est, cui de puro comoda velle facit.
Proximitatis honor sua corda veretur, et omnis
Est sibi leticia sic aliena dolor.
Hoc etenim vicium quam sepe repugnat amanti,
Non sibi, set reliquis, dum fauet ipsa Venus.
Est amor ex proprio motu fantasticus, et que
Gaudia fert alius, credit obesse sibi.
Now after Pride the secounde
Ther is, which many a woful stounde
Towardes othre berth aboute
Withinne himself and noght withoute;
For in his thoght he brenneth evere,
Whan that he wot an other levere
Or more vertuous than he,
Which passeth him in his degre;
Therof he takth his maladie:
That vice is cleped hot Envie.
Forthi, my Sone, if it be so
Thou art or hast ben on of tho,
As forto speke in loves cas,
If evere yit thin herte was
Sek of an other mannes hele?
So god avance my querele,
Mi fader, ye, a thousend sithe:
Whanne I have sen an other blithe
Of love, and hadde a goodly chiere,
Ethna, which brenneth yer be yere,
Was thanne noght so hot as I
Of thilke Sor which prively
Min hertes thoght withinne brenneth.
The Schip which on the wawes renneth,
And is forstormed and forblowe,
Is noght more peined for a throwe
Than I am thanne, whanne I se
An other which that passeth me
In that fortune of loves yifte.
Bot, fader, this I telle in schrifte,
That is nowher bot in o place;
For who that lese or finde grace
In other stede, it mai noght grieve:
Bot this ye mai riht wel believe,
Toward mi ladi that I serve,
Thogh that I wiste forto sterve,
[...] Read more
poem by John Gower
Added by Poetry Lover
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Hell Bent For Leather
Seek him here, seek him on the highway
Never knowing when hell appear
All await, engines ticking over
Hear the roar as they sense the fear
Wheels! a glint of steel and a flash of light!
Screams! from a streak of fire as he strikes!
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Black as night, faster than a shadowcrimson flare from a raging sun
An exhibition, of sheer precision
Yet no one knows from where he comes
Fools! self destruct cannot take that crown
Dreams! crash one by one to the ground
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Theres many who tried to prove that theyre faster
But they didnt last and they died as they tried
Theres many who tried to prove that theyre faster
But they didnt last and they died as they tried
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
song performed by Judas Priest
Added by Lucian Velea
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Your Own Disater
Just think of this and me,
as just a few of the many things,
to lie around and clutter up your shelves
I wish you wern't worht the wait
cos theres somthing id like to say to you
and i dont think that you knwo what you've been missing
and i dont think that you knwow hat you've been missing
and i dare you to forget
the marks oyu left across my neck
from those nights when we were both at our best
and now i could make this obvious
and you, you could deny me
all in one breath you could shug mr off your shoulders
cos i dont think that you know what oyuve been missing
and i dont hitnk that you knwo what you've been missing
cos i dont think that you,
i said i dont think that you know
cos i dont think that you know what youve been missing
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
hey lush have fun
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
hey lush have fun
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(oh i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
[...] Read more
song performed by Taking Back Sunday
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
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Im Glad
Baby when I think about (about about),
The day that we first met (the day that we first met),
Wasnt looking for what I found,
But I found you,
And Im bound to,
Find happiness in being around you,
Im glad when Im making love to you,
Im glad for the way you make me feel,
I love it cause you seem to blow my mind..every-time,
Im glad when we walk you hold my hand,
Im glad that ya know how to be a man,
Im glad that you came into my life,
Im soo glad,
I dig the way that you get down (you get down for bout),
And you still know how to hold me (and you still know how to hold me),
A perfect blend, masculine (I think I know now)
I think Im in love, damn finally,
Im glad when Im making love to you,
Im glad for the way you make me feel,
I love it cause you seem to blow my mind..every-time,
Im glad when we walk you hold my hand,
Im glad that ya know how to be a man,
Im glad that you came into my life,
Im soo glad,
Im glad,
That you,
Turned out,
To be,
That certain someone special who makes this life worth living,
Im glad,
Your here,
Just loving me...
So say that you wont leave,
Cause since the day you came Ive been glad,
Im glad when Im making love to you,
Im glad for the way you make me feel,
I love it cause you seem to blow my mind..everytime,
Im glad when we walk you hold my hand,
Im glad that ya know how to be a man,
Im glad that you came into my life,
Im soo glad,
song performed by Jennifer Lopez
Added by Lucian Velea
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Free
Dont sleep til the sunrise, listen 2 the falling rain
Dont worry bout tomorrow, dont worry bout your pain
Dont cry unless youre happy, dont smile unless youre blue
Never let that lonely monster take control of u
Be glad that u r free
Free 2 change your mind
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime
Be glad that u r free
Theres many a man whos not
Be glad 4 what u had baby, what youve got
Be glad 4 what youve got
I know (my? ) heart is beating, my drummer tells me so
If u take your life 4 granted, your beating heart will go
So dont sleep until youre guilty, cuz sinners all r we
Theres others doing far worse than us, so be glad that u r free
Be glad that u r free
Free 2 change your mind
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime
Be glad that u r free
Theres many a man whos not
Be glad 4 what u had baby, what youve got
Be glad 4 what youve got
Soldiers are a marching, theyre writing brand new laws
Will we all fight together 4 the most important cause?
Will we all fight 4 the right 2 be free?
Free (be glad that u r free)
Free 2 change my mind (free 2 change your mind)
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime (free 2 go most anywhere,anytime)
Im just glad, Im just glad Im free, yeah (be glad that u r free)
Theres many a man whos not (theres many a man whos not)
Glad 4 what I had baby, (be glad 4 what u had and)
Glad 4 what I got, oh yeah (for what youve got)
Oh Im just glad, Im just glad Im free,yeah (be glad that u r free)
Free 2 change my mind (free 2 change your mind)
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime (free 2 go most anywhere,anytime)
(be glad that u r free)
(theres many a man whos not)
Im so... (be glad 4 what u had and for)
(what youve got)
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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