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fishing -
the lucky man gets
The unlucky fish

haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Oxymoron

Oxymoron:
fresh fish

*********

JBO:

'The beach at Sanibel... an Arlington Cemetery of shells.'
*
Every suffocated or strangled fish is first given
waterboarding sensations.
*
Fishes more frequently than
mammals or birds are cut open
alive, while their eyes watch
the knifing of others and their
gills struggle for absent air.

Fish cannot scream.
Greed for suffocated fish flesh causes seals to be clubbed in Canada, Norway, S Africa etc., dolphins to be knifed in Japan, whales to be murdered by
Norwegian Japanese Icelandic and American Inuit fishermen, bears
to be murdered in Alaska, untold thousands of fishermen to
be lost in tsunamis,700 Bangladesh fishermen lost in just 1 storm, Thai fishermen working for slave wages, tens of millions around
the world to die of stomach cancer, food poisoning etc.**

What's in fish? unreported Mad Fish
Disease, nuclear toxins a million
times more concentrated than in
sea water, AIDS from unprocessed
human waste dumped into
the oceans, hepatitis, anaphylactic shock, ecoli,
and other food poisoning,
throat, stomach and other cancers,
mercury, lead, cadmium, arsenic, pbb's, pcb's, thousands
of carcinogenic industrial waste products, and heavy metal sired
brain damage, pfiesteria (red tide) which poisons the fishes

FISH CAN'T SCREAM, FISH TOXINS, FISH STORIES

Are all anglers stranglers?

Dick Gregory: Eating fish liver oil is like eating the filter out of a car.

[...] Read more

poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 2

LET PETER rejoice with the MOON FISH who keeps up the life in the waters by night.

Let Andrew rejoice with the Whale, who is array'd in beauteous blue and is a combination of bulk and activity.

Let James rejoice with the Skuttle-Fish, who foils his foe by the effusion of his ink.

Let John rejoice with Nautilus who spreads his sail and plies his oar, and the Lord is his pilot.

Let Philip rejoice with Boca, which is a fish that can speak.

Let Bartholomew rejoice with the Eel, who is pure in proportion to where he is found and how he is used.

Let Thomas rejoice with the Sword-Fish, whose aim is perpetual and strength insuperable.

Let Matthew rejoice with Uranoscopus, whose eyes are lifted up to God.

Let James the less, rejoice with the Haddock, who brought the piece of money for the Lord and Peter.

Let Jude bless with the Bream, who is of melancholy from his depth and serenity.

Let Simon rejoice with the Sprat, who is pure and innumerable.

Let Matthias rejoice with the Flying-Fish, who has a part with the birds, and is sublimity in his conceit.

Let Stephen rejoice with Remora -- The Lord remove all obstacles to his glory.

Let Paul rejoice with the Scale, who is pleasant and faithful!, like God's good ENGLISHMAN.

Let Agrippa, which is Agricola, rejoice with Elops, who is a choice fish.

Let Joseph rejoice with the Turbut, whose capture makes the poor fisher-man sing.

Let Mary rejoice with the Maid -- blessed be the name of the immaculate CONCEPTION.

Let John, the Baptist, rejoice with the Salmon -- blessed be the name of the Lord Jesus for infant Baptism.

Let Mark rejoice with the Mullet, who is John Dore, God be gracious to him and his family.

Let Barnabus rejoice with the Herring -- God be gracious to the Lord's fishery.

Let Cleopas rejoice with the Mackerel, who cometh in a shoal after a leader.

Let Abiud of the Lord's line rejoice with Murex, who is good and of a precious tincture.

Let Eliakim rejoice with the Shad, who is contemned in his abundance.

Let Azor rejoice with the Flounder, who is both of the sea and of the river,

Let Sadoc rejoice with the Bleak, who playeth upon the surface in the Sun.

[...] Read more

poem by Christopher Smart
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Give The Po Man A Break

Give po man a break
Give po man a break
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
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Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Unlucky In Love

Writers: leo sayer & frank farrell
The rain is falling through the window
Down the walls on the floor
Im sitting in a station and Im wondering
Ooh can it rain any more
When youre so far down
Theres no getting up again
Oh Im so alone
And Im to blame
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in love
Guess it always ends up that way
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in my life
Guess itll always be the same
Im the only one to blame
Why oh why am I unlucky in love
The train is standing on the platform
But my feet are stuck to the floor
Maybe in another town Ill get lucky
Yeah if I could reach that carriage door
But when youre so far down
Aint no getting up again
Oh Im so alone
And Im to blame
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in love
Everything I touch turns to dust
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in love
Never needed anything quite as much
A womans voice and a womans touch
Why oh why am I unlucky in love

song performed by Leo Sayer
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Kalevala - Rune V

WAINAVOINEN'S LAMENTATION.

Far and wide the tidings travelled,
Far away men heard the story
Of the flight and death of Aino,
Sister dear of Youkahainen,
Fairest daughter of creation.
Wainamoinen, brave and truthful,
Straightway fell to bitter weeping,
Wept at morning, wept at evening,
Sleepless, wept the dreary night long,
That his Aino had departed,
That the maiden thus had vanished,
Thus had sunk upon the bottom
Of the blue-sea, deep and boundless.
Filled with grief, the ancient singer,
Wainamoinen of the Northland,
Heavy-hearted, sorely weeping,
Hastened to the restless waters,
This the suitor's prayer and question:
'Tell, Untamo, tell me, dreamer,
Tell me, Indolence, thy visions,
Where the water-gods may linger,
Where may rest Wellamo's maidens?'
Then Untamo, thus made answer,
Lazily he told his dreamings:
'Over there, the mermaid-dwellings,
Yonder live Wellamo's maidens,
On the headland robed in verdure,
On the forest-covered island,
In the deep, pellucid waters,
On the purple-colored sea-shore;
Yonder is the home or sea-maids,
There the maidens of Wellamo,
Live there in their sea-side chambers,
Rest within their water-caverns,
On the rocks of rainbow colors,
On the juttings of the sea-cliffs.'
Straightway hastens Wainamoinen
To a boat-house on the sea-shore,
Looks with care upon the fish-hooks,
And the lines he well considers;
Lines, and hooks, and poles, arid fish-nets,
Places in a boat of copper,
Then begins he swiftly rowing
To the forest-covered island,
To the point enrobed In verdure,
To the purple-colored headland,
Where the sea-nymphs live and linger.

[...] Read more

poem by Elias Lönnrot
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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:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Pickthorn Manor

I

How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day!
A steely silver, underlined with blue,
And flashing where the round clouds, blown away,
Let drop the yellow sunshine to gleam through
And tip the edges of the waves with shifts
And spots of whitest fire, hard like gems
Cut from the midnight moon they were, and sharp
As wind through leafless stems.
The Lady Eunice walked between the drifts
Of blooming cherry-trees, and watched the rifts
Of clouds drawn through the river's azure warp.

II

Her little feet tapped softly down the path.
Her soul was listless; even the morning breeze
Fluttering the trees and strewing a light swath
Of fallen petals on the grass, could please
Her not at all. She brushed a hair aside
With a swift move, and a half-angry frown.
She stopped to pull a daffodil or two,
And held them to her gown
To test the colours; put them at her side,
Then at her breast, then loosened them and tried
Some new arrangement, but it would not do.

III

A lady in a Manor-house, alone,
Whose husband is in Flanders with the Duke
Of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, she's grown
Too apathetic even to rebuke
Her idleness. What is she on this Earth?
No woman surely, since she neither can
Be wed nor single, must not let her mind
Build thoughts upon a man
Except for hers. Indeed that were no dearth
Were her Lord here, for well she knew his worth,
And when she thought of him her eyes were kind.

IV

Too lately wed to have forgot the wooing.
Too unaccustomed as a bride to feel
Other than strange delight at her wife's doing.
Even at the thought a gentle blush would steal
Over her face, and then her lips would frame
Some little word of loving, and her eyes

[...] Read more

poem by Amy Lowell
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Lucky One

Youre the kind
When you love you love with all your might and
Youre the kind
I would dream about at night
Now Im the lucky one
Baby Im the lucky one
Youre the kind
That I want to be with in the dark and
Youre the kind
Who is capturing my heart
And Im the lucky one
Baby Im the lucky one
And I have never been the one to fall in love so soon
But I could never face another night or day without you
Baby Im the lucky one
Youre the kind
With poetry and valentines and
Youre the kind
Who will never ever leave
And Im the lucky one
The luckiest girl
My, my, my baby
Baby Im the lucky one
And I have never been the one to fall in love so soon
But I could never face another night or day without you, you-hoo
Im the lucky one
Baby Im the lucky one
I said
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Ah, my, my, my baby
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Baby Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, hey, Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Ah, my, my, my baby
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Hey Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Baby Im the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Doot-doo, the lucky one
Doot-doo, doot-doo-n-doo-doo
Hey Im the lucky one

song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Arms

(j.b. rudd/vip vipperman)
Hes got lucky arms
He gets to hold her
The way I know I never will again
Theyre dancing close
With her head on his shoulder
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
They dont see me standing in these shadows
She dont know how bad my heart still aches
Hes holding on to everything I let go
Sure is making good off my mistakes
Hes got lucky arms
He gets to hold her
The way I know I never will again
Theyre dancing close
With her head on his shoulder
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
Before too long the music will stop playing
Hell take her hand and then hell take her home
And I can just imagine what hes saying
The way hes smiling I can tell he knows
Hes got lucky arms
He gets to hold her
The way I know I never will again
Theyre dancing close
With her head on his shoulder
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him
Lucky arms, lucky heart
He ought to thank his lucky stars
Lucky arms, lucky heart, lucky him

song performed by John Michael Montgomery
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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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Is it really like fishing?

They say there is many fish in the sea to choose from.
But have you ever gone fishing?
They say do not worry they are like fish you lose one then get a fresh one.
But have you actually gone fishing?
They say you can be picky when fishing your fish.
But have you been in the sea and fished?
They even say some actually smell like fish.
But have you really smelled a fish?
They say there is plenty of fish in the sea.
But have you actually gone and counted the fish in the sea?
They say once you catch that perfect fish, you are bound for a good life.
But have you caught that perfect fish they all speak of?
They say some fish can be beautiful.
But have you seen any beautiful fish?

How can one compare a fish?
They are not alike.
How can one say it is as easy as finding a fish?
It is not a simple task.
How can they say there are so many fish in the sea?
When there are so many fishers who have yet to catch.

Can you really compare life and love to a fish?
The answer is of course not.
You can’t.
Impossible.
Unreal.
Not imaginable.
Unbelievable.
Unrealistic.
A fairy tale.

poem by ReubenJames Rodriguez
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Hey Lucky Lady

Hey lucky lady lucky lady I was once the lucky lady
I was happy with my baby I was such a lucky lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady you are now the lucky lady
Are you happy with my baby you know you're a lucky lady you lucky lady
Lucky lady that's what I was I was happy to have his love
All a woman could wish for he was that and so much more
He was mine and how I loved him before your hands ever touched him
Long before your temptin' eyes lured my baby from my life
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Is it love or is it pleasure do you know you've found a treasure
Are you only having fun do you know the prize you've won
If you don't want something lasting if it's just the time you're passing
Lucky lady give him up cause I do love him very much
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...

song performed by Dolly Parton, music by Dolly Parton (1975)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Girl

There are some girls whod never take a chance
And yet they say that they need more romance
Diamonds and pearls are all some girls can see
Your kiss is the jewel for me
Im such a lucky girl
There are some girls whod never take a chance
And yet they say that they need more romance
Diamonds and pearls are all some girls can see
Your kiss is the jewel for me
Im such a lucky girl
You make me feel like the only girl in the world
Im such a lucky girl
You do it to me like its never been done before
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
And when you look at me, I know its true
Im gonna spend my whole life here with you
And in my world, only one fantasy, you give it all to me
Im such a lucky girl
You make me feel like the only girl in the world
Im such a lucky girl
You do it to me like its never been done before
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
Now, I thank my lucky stars above
For giving me the best of you to love
In love and in luck
Ive got one guarantee
cause I got you here with me
Im such a lucky girl
You make me feel like the only girl in the world
Im such a lucky girl
You do it to me like its never been done before
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
Im such a lucky girl
Lucky, lucky, lucky girl
Im gonna give it, give it, give it all to you
Lucky, lucky, lucky girl

song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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100 STD's 10,000 MTD's

There are STD's, sexually transmitted diseases.
and then there are MTD's, meat transmitted diseases.

The latter take a lot more lives.

*********

In Animal Flesh: Blood Sweat Tears as well as Carcinogens Cholesterol Colon Bacteria

Animal products kill more people annually in the US than
tobacco, alcohol, traffic accidents, war, domestic violence,
guns, and drugs combined. USAMRID wrote that consumption of pig flesh caused the world's most lethal pandemic in WW1,
euphemistically called flu. Anthrax
used to be called wool sorters'
disease. Smallpox used to be called
cow pox or kine pox because of
its origin in animal flesh.
.

WHAT'S IN A BURGER? BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS (AS WELL AS BIOTERRORISM)

POISONS IN ANIMAL AND FISH FLESH... A PARTIAL LIST

a partial list in alphabetical order

acidification diseases
addiction (to trioxypurines)
adrenalin (secreted by terrorized
animals before and during slaughter)

ANTIBIOTICS (too many to list) (crowded factory farm animals standing in their own feces are often infected)

BACTERIA
creiophilic bacteria survive
the freezing of animal flesh
thermophilic bacteria survive
the baking boiling and roasting

bacteriophages (viruses FDA allows to
be injected)
blood
colon bacteria.. euphemistically
called ecoli animals defecate
all over themselves in terror
John Harvey Kellogg MD studied
the exponential rate into the billions

BSE DISEASES, PRIONS IN SPECIES FROM GELATIN (JELLO ETC)
Mad Chicken

[...] Read more

poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Wishing I Was Lucky

I was living in a world of make believe
When my best friend wrote and told me
That there may be a job in the city
And you never told me
He would dream about another scheme
About another sordid hall of dreams
About a man whos king of industry
He would swear by his mouth almighty
He would buy the best
But never something new
And he never told me
I like kicking in the gutter and
Wishing I was lucky
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
Oh I like kicking in the gutter
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
Its the only life I know
Lie, lie, lie is all you ever do
To make me want to push on through
Cry, cry, cry cry is all I ever do
Say thats how you want to make me push on through
I like kicking in the gutter and
Wishing I was lucky
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
Oh I like kicking in the gutter
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
My best friend wrote and told me so
He said that there may be a job in the city
I like kicking in the gutter and
Wishing I was lucky
Wishing I was lucky, wishing I was lucky
I was wishing I was lucky
Hey son go, hey son go, to the city

song performed by Wet Wet Wet
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Fyftene Loyes Of Maryage

Somer passed/and wynter well begone
The dayes shorte/the darke nyghtes longe
Haue taken season/and brynghtnes of the sonne
Is lytell sene/and small byrdes songe
Seldon is herde/in feldes or wodes ronge
All strength and ventue/of trees and herbes sote
Dyscendynge be/from croppe in to the rote

And euery creature by course of kynde
For socoure draweth to that countre and place
Where for a tyme/they may purchace and fynde
Conforte and rest/abydynge after grace
That clere Appolo with bryghtnes of his face
Wyll sende/whan lusty ver shall come to towne
And gyue the grounde/of grene a goodly gowne

And Flora goddesse bothe of whyte and grene
Her mantell large/ouer all the erthe shall sprede
Shewynge her selfe/apparayled lyke a quene
As well in feldes/wodes/as in mede
Hauynge so ryche a croune vpon her hede
The whiche of floures/shall be so fayre and bryght
That all the worlde/shall take therof a lyght

So now it is/of late I was desyred
Out of the trenche to drawe a lytell boke
Of .xv. Ioyes/of whiche though I were hyred
I can not tell/and yet I vndertoke
This entrepryse/with a full pyteous loke
Remembrynge well/the case that stode in
Lyuynge in hope/this wynter to begyn

Some Ioyes to fynde that be in maryage
For in my youth/yet neuer acquayntaunce
Had of them but now in myn olde aege
I trust my selfe/to forther and auaunce
If that in me/there lacke no suffysaunce
Whiche may dyspleasyr/clerely set a parte
I wante but all/that longeth to that arte

yet wyll I speke/though I may do no more
Fully purposynge/in all these Ioyes to trete
Accordynge to my purpose made to fore
All be it so/I can not well forgete
The payne/trauayle/besynes and hete

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poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
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Fish Out Of Water

I feel so out of place here
With this high society
These high fallutin people
Dont know what to make of me
I feel like a minnow in a sea of moby dicks
A small fry in a big pan
Theyre caviar -- Im fish sticks
Fish out of water
I know I dont belong
Fish out of water
Everything I do is wrong
My style of hair, the clothes I wear
The way I speak, the things I eat
The way I act, my lack of tact
Nothin seems to fit
Fish out of water
Flounderin round
Out of my element
But Im just as good as they are
Why do I feel second rate
Its like, sorry charlie,
We want only tuna with good taste
I guess you could say wal-mart
Is quite a way from guccis
Im timex, theyre rolex
Im captain ds, theyre sushi
Fish out of water
Ive had it to the gills
Fish out of water
With these yuppie-guppie frills
Yeah, Im a square in a round hole
A catfish in a goldfish bowl
A little fish with lots of soul
Out of my element
Fish out of water
Flounderin round just for the halibut
Save me, save me
S.o.s. somebody
Save me, save me
Somebody rescue me
Fish out of water
Somebody throw me in
Fish out of water
On a scale of one to ten
Im a two, perhaps a three
Compared to the big fish in the sea
Im washed ashore so save me please
Im in an awful fix
Fish out of water
Rescue me

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song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Ones

Don't ask me how, but guess who hit the big time
Don't look now but guess whose back in town
It's so easy don't even have to try
Your the winner you can take the prize
It's a dream come true which one will it be
It's a dream come true we'll just wait and see
Only the lucky one's get to steal the show
Only the lucky one's really get to know
Only the lucky, Only the lucky one's get Lucky
Same old story something never change
With a beautiful girl everythings rearranged
Your whole life it comes to you for free
You wear it well it comes so naturally
It's a dream come true which one will it be
It's a dream come true we'll just wait and see
Only the lucky one's get to steal the show
Only the lucky one's really get to know
Only the lucky, Only the lucky one's
(Solo)
Don't ask me how, but guess who hit the big time
Don't look now but guess whose back in town
It comes so easy don't even have to try
Youre the winner you can take the prize
Lucky ones
Only the lucky one's really get to know
Only the lucky, Only the lucky one's

song performed by Loverboy
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Mother's Lesson

Come hither an' sit on my knee, Willie,
Come hither an' sit on my knee,
An' list while I tell how your brave brither fell,
Fechtin' for you an' for me:
Fechtin' for you an' for me, Willie,
Wi' his guid sword in his han'.
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!

Ye min' o' your ain brither dear, Willie,
Ye min' o' your ain brither dear,
How he pettled ye aye wi' his pliskies an' play,
An' was aye sae cantie o' cheer:
Aye sae cantie o' cheer, Willie,
As he steppit sae tall an' sae gran',
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.

D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun, Willie,
D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun?
D'ye min' wha grippit ye fra the big bull,
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun'?
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun', Willie,
D'ye min' how the bluid doun ran?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.

D'ye min' when we a' wanted bread, Willie,
the year when we a' wanted bread?
How he smiled when he saw the het parritch an' a',
An' gaed cauld an' toom to his bed:
Gaed awa' toom to his bed, Willie,
For the love o' wee Willie an' Nan?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!

Next simmer was bright but an' ben, Willie,
Next simmer was bright but an' ben,
When there cam a gran' cry like a win' strang an' high
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen:
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen, Willie,
The cry o' a far forrin lan',
An' up loupit ilka brave man, Willie,
Up loupit ilka brave man.

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poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Added by Poetry Lover
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