On Automanic
On automanic!
People in a panic.
Looking for a switch...
That stops the twitching,
And the itch.
We're standing frantic,
In the midst of antics...
Trying to find,
Reality
Somewhere in our minds!
On automanic!
People in a panic.
Looking for a switch...
That stops the twitching,
And the itch.
We're standing frantic,
In the midst of antics...
Hoping in time,
Darkness
Doesn't leave us blind!
It seems we have been,
Too busy being dizzy.
Taking the wrong medication!
We've come to deadends,
Thinking turning back was easy.
But we hid inside...
Behind lies,
That fight us!
We market...
Rascism!
We market...
Disrespect and fast rejection!
We market...
Fear!
We market...
Peace to tease in pieces!
Trying to find...
A few kind reminders!
On automanic!
Psychomanic panic.
Looking for a fix and quick!
To stop this mental fit that's sick!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When You Pick the Ticks Off Monkeys
Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!
And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
Like one who has swung on a rope!
And when you pick ticks...
From another monkey's fur?
I get teary eyed...
Just watching what occurs!
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!
And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Itch
Ha ha ha (ahh)
Don't wanna hurt you (hurt you baby)
You think you love me, but you don't really know me
Don't wanna hurt you (hurt you baby)
Wanna go ride, not a backseat drive
Ahhhhh ooh - ay ay ay I need
Ahhhhh ohh - something inside that you can't provide
I'm feeling the itch again
I need to get tricked again
I'm starting to twitch again
I feel the itch again
I'm starting to twitch again
I need to get tricked again
I feel the itch again
I feel the itch
i-i-itch, i-i-i-i-itch (ahh)
i-i-itch (ahh), i-i-i-i-itch
Don't want to hurt you (hurt you baby)
You can hug me, but you can't really hold me
what I do, and it's crazy
Don't wanna be cold, but I'm out of control
Ahhhhh ooh - ay ay ay that's true
Ahhhhh ooh - wish I could, but I can't be good
I'm feeling the itch again
I need to get tricked again
I'm starting to twitch again
I feel the itch again
I'm starting to twitch again
I need to get tricked again
I feel the itch
I feel the itch again
i-i-itch, i-i-i-i-itch (ahh)
i-i-itch (ahh), i-i-i-i-itch
Cause I want to go down wanna feel my heart pound
Don't you know that I get restless
You can't reach where I need scratching
So feel the itch again
Itch
Itch
Ahhhhh ooh - ay ay ay I need
Something inside that you can't provide
I'm feeling the itch again
I need to get tricked again
I'm starting to twitch again
I feel the itch again
I'm starting to twitch again
I need to get tricked again
I feel the itch again
I feel the itch
Yeah yeah, I feel the itch again
[...] Read more
song performed by Vitamin C
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rock Stops Here
(eric carmen/fred carmen)
(recorded by eric carmen)
Cool 101 / 1986
A dj in cleveland brought some bands to town
When the music got started
They tore the house down
People said everybody just went out of control
Alan freed grabbed a mike and called it rock and roll
They started bandstand in philly back in 55
And elvis rock-a-billy brought memphis alive
L.a. gave us surfers and detroits got soul
But theres only one home of rock and roll
And kids a hundred thousand strong
Burned the phone lines all night long
To send a message loud and clear
In the u.s.a., I said, the rock stops here
The rock stops here
Little richard brought miss molly
The rock stops here
Peggy sues with buddy holly
The rock stops here
Everybodys gettin down
The rock stops here
Oww! here comes the great james brown
The rock stops here
Chuck berrys with maybelline
The rock stops here
Jerry lees pianos screamin
The rock stops here
Elvis singin blue suede shoes
I need a shot of rock-a-billy
With my rhythm and blues
They looked from new york to l.a. to find the spot
Every city in the nation took their very best shot
When the dust all settled, one city stood tall
And they knew who deserved the rock and roll hall
So to prove the facts they already knew
They took a nationwide poll
That made the front page news
When the votes were counted, the results all showed
In cleveland, we eat, sleep and drink rock and roll
Kids a hundred thousand strong
Shouted, put the hall where it belongs
Now heres the message loud and clear
In the u.s.a., you know the rock stops here
I said the rock stops here
Cathys clowns with don and phil
The rock stops here
Fats is up on blueberry hill
The rock stops here
[...] Read more
song performed by Eric Carmen
Added by Lucian Velea
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People Panic
Tripped out,
Over their finances.
Doubts begin to cloud their minds...
With a suggestion to breathe deeply.
To prevent a panic to exist.
And if they don't breathe deeply,
That's exactly what they'll find!
That's exactly what they'll get...
Panic!
But do people listen?
No!
Is common sense from them missing?
Well...
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But if I'm allowed,
I would choose to brag.
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But people seem to get,
Just what they ask!
And everywhere you go,
You'll see them in their stubbornness to give!
In 'fits' like spoiled little kids.
And everywhere you go,
You'll see them in their stubbornness to give!
In 'fits' like spoiled little kids.
But do people listen?
No!
Is common sense from them missing?
Well...
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But if I'm allowed,
I would choose to brag.
Tripped out,
Over their finances.
Doubts begin to cloud their minds...
With a suggestion to breathe deeply.
To prevent a panic to exist.
And if they don't breathe deeply,
That's exactly what they'll find!
That's exactly what they'll get...
Panic!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Itch, Itch, Itch
should it not annoy me
what comes from single addition sound
itch, itch, itch
scratching my finger point
my heart is like free market
my brain is like full garbage
itch, itch, itch
there's worm army in my back
I get itch in my leg
itch, itch, itch
it's an itch in my mouth
I have sharpen my nail
I want to jump and scream
can I come to scratch you into pieces
the hands that touch me impolitely
the blunt mind that speaks empty
itch, itch, itch
you are just itch for me
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Edges Are No Longer Parallel
The edges are no, no longer parallel
The edges are no, no longer parallel
And there is no law of averages here
If you feel down
Then youre bound to stay down
All of the things you said
So meaningful
They are all so suddenly meaningless
And the looks you gave
So meaningful
They are all so suddenly meaningless
Oh ...
And there is no law of averages here
If you feel down
Then youre bound to stay down
My only mistake is Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
My only mistake is Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
My only mistake is Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
My one mistake is Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
My only mistake is ...
My only mistake is I keep hoping
My only mistake is I keep hoping
My only mistake is Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
My only mistake is Im hoping
Im hoping
Im hoping
song performed by Morrissey
Added by Lucian Velea
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Switch
Ladies and Gentleman
Thankyou very much for coming out this evening
Yeah Thank You
Thank You
Please take the Dance Floor
Uh I would like to welcome you to the Switch remix
Now all you got to do is let your body move
And just (woo)
Vibe the vibe a second, it's a club girl why you arrived naked
Hear that, how the veteran glide the record
But don't download, go out and buy the record
Something sexy about a,
Girl on the floor, all her friends around her
I mean real clean, ain't gotta touch or nothing
It ain't like I like a chick on chick or something
Just a sucker for a hot track,
Gimme a drink and a chick to tell 'Stop that'
Dance is a hop and a clap, flip it round
Now bring it on back, break it down
Now Switch!
I don't want nobody sitting on the wall (Switch)
If you didn't come to dance then why'd you come at all (Switch)
Heres your chance (heres your chance)
Take my hand (take my hand)
Do that dance
Girl lets Switch
I gotta question, I need to ask somebody
Why is it that when y'all see me at the party
Y'all be looking like 'Ooo he a movie star
He ain't supposed to be out on the floor with everybody'
But oh wait, whoa y'all forgetting
When I was, amateur spitting before the scripts were written
First one in, last one out the club
Bursting in, passing out in the club
Back at it, this cat is the wit and the charm
Taking you higher like a syringe hittin ya arm
Bringing the fire, making you Benz ring the alarm
Let me see you clap, spin baby come on
Switch!
I don't want nobody sitting on the wall (Switch)
If you didn't come to dance then why'd you come at all (Switch)
Heres your chance (heres your chance)
Take my hand (take my hand)
Do that dance
Girl lets Switch
time girl)
time girl)
time girl)
slide it up front)
Left right east west up down north south (Robin Thicke)
[...] Read more
song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Did. Did You Do A Panic
Did. Did you do a panic.
With a frantic...
Undoing panic?
Did. Did you do a panic...
Frantically?
Tell me did you do a panic.
With a frantic...
Undoing panic?
Did you really do a panic...
Frantically?
Or...
Did you feel romantic?
Or...
Was it really panic?
Tell me did you do a panic.
With a frantic...
Undoing panic?
Did you really do a panic...
Frantically?
Or...
Did you feel romantic?
Tell me, tell me now.
Or was it really panic?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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I Keep Hoping
As I gather my thoughts
With the pieces of my heart
Tell me, how long is forever
Im not afraid and I wont be torn apart
Weve had our time together
Now I make my new beginnings
Ill start again at any cost
Ive learned a lot from losing you
But Ive got nothing if Im lost
And I keep hoping
And I still believe in love
If I wait long enough
I know Ill be strong enough
Yeah, I keep hoping
I believe in faith and trust
Im gonna find a way
There are better days still ahead of us
I keep hoping
Now this candle burns low
It wont last through the night
But Ive found peace
And I know its all right
I try to understand
Whats been missing in my life
Between the darkness and the daylight
No Im not expecting miracles
Ive got my doubts like any other one
Ive learned a lot from losing you
But Ive got nothing if Im lost
And I keep hoping
I still believe in love
If I wait long enough
I know Ill be strong enough
And I keep hoping
I believe, I believe in faith and trust
There are better days, better days, around of us now, still ahead of us, aaah
I keep hoping, I keep hoping
I keep hoping
I keep hoping and praying baby, oooh
And I still believe in love
I keep hoping, I keep hoping baby, oooh
Im gonna find a way
I keep hoping, I keep hoping baby
There are better days, ooh, better days
I keep hoping, hoping and praying
And I still believe in love
I keep hoping, I keep hoping
I keep hoping . . .
song performed by Foreigner
Added by Lucian Velea
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Switch!
You gotta stop listen up
Checking out my beats
Know that theyre unique
Got you jumping out your seats ah
Never bring the same flow upon a track
Better watch your back when I bring the switch attack now
People when they nod
Nod they dont to the funk
Thing that I bring
Make your head wanna ring
Here we come you know we bring it raw
Get up on the floor cuz you gotta get some more
Friday night
The partys just around the corner
Shell be there so I just cant be late
Gotta get my groove thing on
Cuz Ill be dancing all night long
Send me to a place where I can have some fun
Refrao
Once I get up on the floor, see me coming back for more
See me rocking all my moves, everybodys watching me
Once I get up on the floor, see me coming back for more
See me rocking all my moves, everybodys watching me (switch!)
Da freak (4x) - switch!
Rock it like this (2x) - switch!
Five guys clap your hands
Just clap your hands to this
Just clap your hands to the beat now (switch!)
Uh, uh, uh, we get down, uh, uh, uh, uh (switch!)
Nine oclock
And finally my groove is swinging
Beats are fine now
I guess its time to rock (guess its time to rock)
Now the partys on the way
I found out Ive got to stay
People start to gather round and round and round and round
Refrao
Switch! (3x)
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
Switch! (2x)
Da freak (2x) - switch!
Rock it like this - switch!
Five guys clap your hands - switch!
Uh, uh, uh
Switch! (4x)
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah - switch!
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
song performed by Five
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yips
When focusing too hard on putts
golfers suffer from the yips,
and those who focus hard on butts
and breasts and what’s below the hips
may not obtain a hole in one
because most eagles fly away,
and though a birdie can be fun
you’ll never catch one if you play
too focused. Nonchalance will launch
in sex, as golf, a thousand ships,
and when you’re ready for some raunch,
soft-focus rescues you from yips.
Inspired by an article by Katie Thomas in the NYT on August 1 explaining the phenomenon of yip[s which plagues archersm, golfers and all people who aim to carefully at targets (“The Secret Curse of Expert Archers”) :
There is an affliction so feared by elite archers that many in the sport refuse to even say its name. Archery coaches who specialize in treating the problem are sworn not to reveal the identities of archers in its grip, even though they estimate that 90 percent of high-level competitors will fall victim at least once in their careers. Target panic, as the condition is known, causes crack shots to suddenly lose control of their bows and their composure. Mysteriously, sufferers start releasing the bow the instant they see the target, sabotaging any chance of a gold-medal shot. Others freeze up and cannot release at all. Target panic is akin to the yips in baseball and golf, when accomplished athletes can no longer make a simple throw to first base or stroke an easy putt. The results can be mortifying, and archery is filled with tales of those who have caught the curse, never to shoot again. The problem has spawned a cottage industry of coaches, books and specialized accessories that claim to cure target panic….Lanny Bassham, a former Olympic rifle shooter and mental coach whose clients include the Olympic archer Brady Ellison, said the archery community had a peculiar obsession with target panic, which he noted had a horrifying ring. “The words target panic have induced an unnecessary amount of severity and concern about this condition among archers, ” he said. “I think if they had a better word for it, they’d have a lot less problem trying to cure it.” Many archers and their coaches refuse to say target panic. Those words are forbidden around the Nichols household, which is home to the Olympic archer Jennifer Nichols and her younger sister, Amanda, also a world-class competitor. “We try to stay away from the labels that are put on things by people in the archery industry because once you feel you’ve got that label, it’s hard to stay away from it, ” said their father, Brent Nichols. “We don’t want to hear those things.” Theories vary on how to cure target panic. Some switch their shooting hand, or change their grip slightly — techniques that have also proved successful in golf. Others use visualization techniques and positive reinforcement. Wunderle advises his clients to imagine seeing and feeling what a good shot is, without focusing on aiming the arrow. “Do not focus on results, ” he said. “When you focus on results, it builds anxiety. And anxiety is the kiss of death.” One of the most popular cures is to entirely remove the target. Sufferers instead practice shooting at a blank target, sometimes for weeks at a time, to retrain the mind. “The empty bale restores your confidence in your subconscious, ” said Bernie Pellerite, author of the book “Idiot Proof Archery” and a self-described expert on target panic. “Nobody flinches or punches or chokes on an empty bale.” Hunt spent weeks shooting at blank targets, but he also purchased a special release for his bow, which helped retrain him when to shoot. “It’s trying to engrave in your head when you should shoot, ” he said. “You just pull it back, let the safety off, and pull it until it decides to go. Then you get used to every shot being perfect.” Hunt placed second in his age group at the Junior Olympic Archery Development national championships in Oklahoma City earlier this month. His target panic, he said, had been cured. For now. There is an affliction so feared by elite archers that many in the sport refuse to even say its name. Archery coaches who specialize in treating the problem are sworn not to reveal the identities of archers in its grip, even though they estimate that 90 percent of high-level competitors will fall victim at least once in their careers. Target panic, as the condition is known, causes crack shots to suddenly lose control of their bows and their composure. Mysteriously, sufferers start releasing the bow the instant they see the target, sabotaging any chance of a gold-medal shot. Others freeze up and cannot release at all. Target panic is akin to the yips in baseball and golf, when accomplished athletes can no longer make a simple throw to first base or stroke an easy putt. The results can be mortifying, and archery is filled with tales of those who have caught the curse, never to shoot again. The problem has spawned a cottage industry of coaches, books and specialized accessories that claim to cure target panic.
8/20/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
Added by Poetry Lover
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Added by Lucian Velea
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What's There To Defecate On The T.V. Tonight?
Inoculate existence to the pleasures of the screen
Preying heed at the altar in the service the settee
Enrichment to the popcorn in sterilized excitement
Taste the artificial flavor that butters your confinement
Drift in the sea of static electro phosphate discharge
Catching the cheap thrills for dancing with the stars
Watch your altered cerebellum supernovas serotonin
For that macabre fetish when Criminal Minds is on
You know you'll find excitement in another rerun
A life of two dimensions in Sony stereo speakers
Pull a sitcom or a drama imitating your connections
Until all that's left of us is hologram seductions
What's there to see on HD TV?
Just the bread and circus of enlightened society
Click Switch, Click Switch, and Click switch
Static eyes disolve pupils dilate and twitch
Nothing new on news, accept recycled tragedies
Filtered dialogues digesting spacious commentary
Programmed homicides -Suicides: celebrating Ratings
See news castors plaster consideration without virtue
Click Switch, Click Switch Click Switch
Legal queries and drive bys for regurgitated pastimes
Watch the minister of finance announce innovative tax cuts
A sequel in six months, will show recessions still at lunch
With a barging bin protest conducted after brunch
Click Switch, Click Switch, Click Switch
More celebrity activists preach a call to arms
Until another agenda fad changes their cause
Trapped Alabama Miners, Students fighting in Quebec
There's going to be another issue so just sit back a relax
Global warming's escalating, pedophilias the rage
Just enjoy the stable barrage of calamities buffets
At 8: 00 it's Family Guy, at 9: 00 it's Yankee Idol
Who needs real solutions when preaching to the converted?
Just
Click Switch, Click Switch, Click Switch
Until you pass the final twitch
poem by Kevin Patrick
Added by Poetry Lover
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Looking At The Many People
Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people,
Waiting to live a life they like.
The many people...
In a luxurized hype.
Looking at the people,
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.
Embittered and lamenting.
Looking at the many people.
Living venting and resenting.
Looking at the many people.
Condescending and offending.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.
Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.
Embittered and lamenting.
Looking at the many people.
Living venting and resenting.
Looking at the many people.
Condescending and offending.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.
Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.
Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Fly Away
When the world changes, you adjust
So, on this joint right here we about to take flight ya'll
(Oo ooo)Check it out ya'll (Oo ooo)check it out ya'll
Yo Fergie what ya gonna do? (flip it out)
Yeah, what we came to do, show these people how we gonna do (mix it up)
Yeah, its Black Eyed Peas ya'll
So, check it out (ay)
You're here, so gone
this dark has got suddenly turned into dawn
I know you've already been here too long, too long, too long
Although you won't see me fall from grace
You step on my soul as you walk away
My demise you'll never know
I'm letting you go
(Fly away now)
Flip it up Flip it up get back on the truck
Got to keep moving keep reppin' it up
Mix it up Mix it up time for the next stop
You got to go now and fill up your cup ?
(Fly away now,fly away now)
Switch it up Switch it up go hop on that bus
Don't need to blow the horn I'll be tough, hey
You take me from me
With you forever, but darling I see
The world is who you belong to, not me
So I set you free
(Fly away now)
Flip it up Flip it up get back on the truck
Got to keep moving keep reppin' it up
Mix it up Mix it up time for the next stop
You got to go now and fill up your cup ?
(Fly away now, fly away now)
Switch it up Switch it up go hop on that bus
Don't need to blow the horn I'll be tough, hey
I be fallin' up never fallin' down
'Cause I spread my wings and I glide around town
Fly, lover go
Find your nest,find your home
(Uh uh oh,uh uh uh oh)
I miss you so
Spread your wings, let it flow
(Uh uh oh, uh uh uh oh)
I be fallin' up never fallin' down
'Cause I keep it on a higher level, elevated ground
Flip it up Flip it up get back on the truck
Got to keep moving keep reppin' it up
Mix it up Mix it up time for the next stop
You got to go and fill yourself
Bout to get gone baby (fly away now)Yeah, get it gone now (fly away now)
Switch it up Switch it up go hop on that bus
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song performed by Black Eyed Peas
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Heart Stops
(diane warren)
(recorded by eric carmen)
Arista as1-2264 / 1992
I tell myself
This cant be love
That Im feelin
But if I think that my world
Will be the way that it was
Im dreamin
Why do I feel so high
At the mention of your name
Why do I act so shy
Cant explain, cant explain, cant explain
But darlin
Wo-wo-wo when you go walkin by
My heart stops
My heart stops
I cant explain it
Wo-wo-wo when you look in my eye
My heart stops
My heart stops
Every time youre near
Just thinkin about you
Darlin it just does
Something to me
And when we meet on the street
I feel the flame of love
Burnin through me
I try to play it cool
And never show a sign
But I give myself away
Every time, every time, every time
cause darlin
Wo-wo-wo when you go walkin by
My heart stops
My heart stops
I cant explain it
Wo-wo-wo when you look in my eye
My heart stops
My heart stops
Every time youre near
My heart stops, my heart stops
My heart stops, my heart stops
Oh, whenever youre close to me
Theres a wave of love rushin over me
And I never felt this way
Cant explain, cant explain, cant explain
But darlin
My darlin
Wo-wo-wo when you go walkin by
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song performed by Eric Carmen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Doing The Itch
There was a skunk whose name was Itch—
Itch had a rash that started at a fever pitch.
But the itch was only the beginning of it—
Itch started to get alot of zits…
So Itch decided he didn't know his face—
so he put on a Skunk mask that had more grace.
But Razel puppet liked him for he could tell a lie
she knew she could use him like banana cream pie.
Pie in the sense that the could change forms—
be "Deceptive" which was in Razel's norm.
So "Doing The Itch" was born.
So if you have half a brain—
you will figure out Itch's deceptive games.
Don't worry Itch will make you all the blame.
"Just remember Itch, says Razel-
humans can really play you-
not to worry you are cold and blue! ! "
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 11,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Added by Poetry Lover
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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
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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