Art of Cloth
From fiber, to spinning wheel
From thread, to weaving mill
From textile, to sewing machine
Cloth is continuous ceremony
Whether knitting, whether embroider
Whether patchwork, whether bead work
The beautiful batik, the intricate songket
Cloth is concentration lesson
The strata symbol, the politeness norm
The body art, the cover part
Wedding dress, black tie suit
Cloth is human civilization
From skin, to fabric
From corset, to mini skirt
From blue jeans, to legging
Cloth is history record
Classic style, replied fashion
Color play, motif trend
Mismatch mode, big bang accessories
Cloth is social adaptation
Conservative nerd, ethnic vintage
Religion veil, punk rebel
Costume play, Gothic Lolita
Cloth is identity crisis
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Sing on, Spinning Wheel
(PaaDavE RaaTnamaa)
(With the clarion call given by Gandhiji many intellectuals and poets plunged into Indian freedom struggle. As part of strategy to discourage the use of foreign goods, Gandhiji encouraged Indians to wear the home spun cotton (Khadi) . This song was a popular song written by Kavikokila Duvvuri Rami Reddy, glorifying the khadi and spinning wheel)
Telugu original: KavikOkila Duvvuri Raami Reddy(1895-1947)
Telugu translation: Ch J Satyananda Kumar
poddu poDupoo chukka poDichindi raaTnamaa
gooLLalO pakshulu koosEnu raaTnamaa
aruNakiraNaalatO aaTalaaDEnoolu
tammikaaDalalOni tantulanTEnoolu
manciniiLLallOna maRagipoyyEnoolu
saaliiDupOgutO sarasamaaDEnoolu
gaalitaragalalOna tElipoyyEnoolu
vaDakavE raaTnamaa vajraaladoodi
naDapavE raaTnamaa nakshatraviidhi,
poddu poDupoo cukka poDicindi raaTnamaa
gooLLalO pakshulu koosEnu raaTnamaa
muddulolkE paaTa mutyaalapaaTa
paruvunilpEpaaTa bangaarupaaTa
mattumaapEpaaTa madhurampupaaTa
nidralEpE paaTa niddampu paaTa
kaDupu nimpEpaaTa kanikarapupaaTa
paaDavE raaTnamaa Baavi Baaratamu
aaDavEraaTnamaa aandhra naaTakamu
poddu poDupoo cukka poDicindi raaTnamaa
gooLLalO pakshulu koosEnu raaTnamaa
kaTTa guDDaalEka kaTakaTaa paDucu
kuDuva kooDoo lEka gODu gODanunu
daasya vaaraaSilO darigaana lEka
bedari bedarii coocu pirikipandalanu
aatmanindala tODa naDalu bElalanu
purikolpa SanKambu poorinci lEpi
tippavE raaTnamaa dESa cakrambu
vippavE raaTnamaa vijaya kEtanamu-
Translation:
morning star appeared, Oh spinning wheel
birds in nests chirped, Oh spinning wheel
the cotton thread that plays with the rays of dawn
the cotton thread which looks like the fiber of floral stem
the cotton thread that gets boiled in water
the cotton thread that caresses the spider’s web strand
[...] Read more
poem by Ch J Satyananda Kumar
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Twa Sisters O' Binnorie
There were twa sisters sat in a bow'r;
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
A knight cam' there, a noble wooer,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The eldest she was vexed sair,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And sair envìed her sister fair,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Upon a morning fair and clear,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie !)
She cried upon her sister dear,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
`O sister, sister, tak' my hand,'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
`And let's go down to the river-strand,'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
She's ta'en her by the lily hand,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And down they went to the river-strand
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The youngest stood upon a stane,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
The eldest cam' and pushed her in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O sister, sister, reach your hand!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'And ye sall be heir o' half my land'--
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O sister, reach me but your glove!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'And sweet William sall be your love'--
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
Till she cam' to the mouth o' yon mill-dam,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie
Out then cam' the miller's son
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Courtship of Miles Standish, The
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Courtship of Miles Standish
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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My Head Is Spinning
(lowe/tennant)
----------------------
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Standing On Ceremony
Remember your manners
Will you please take your hat off
Your mother is dying
Listen to her cough
We were always standing on ceremony
We were always standing on ceremony
Cant you show some respect please
Although you didnt in real life
Your mother is dying
And I God damn well hope youre satisfied
We were always standing on ceremony
We were always standing on ceremony
So please play another song on that juke box
Please play another pretty sad song for me
And if that phone rings, tell them that you havent seen me
If that last phone rings
Tell them that you havent seen me for weeks
And this one heres on me
Standing on ceremony, standing on ceremony
Standing on ceremony, standing on ceremony
Standing on ceremony, you were always standing on ceremony
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
(standing, on ceremony)
...
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Using Boot Camp
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[...] Read more
poem by Caasder Fronds
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Beautiful
The most beautiful girl in the world
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
(beautiful)
Beau - beau
Could u be
The most beautiful girl in the world
Its plain 2 see
Ure the reason that God made a girl
When the day turns into the last day of all time
I can say, I hope that u are in these arms of mine (oh yeah) (beautiful)
When the night falls before that day I will cry
I will cry tears of joy cause after u all one can do is die (oh yeah)
Could u be
The most beautiful girl in the world (beautiful)
Its plain 2 see
Ure the reason that God made a girl (beautiful)
How can I get through days when I cant get through hours
(tick tock u dont stop, tick tock u dont stop)
I can try but when I do I see u and Im devoured
Oh yes
Whod allow, whod allow a face 2 be as soft as a flower (oh yeah)
(beautiful)
I could bow and feel proud in the light of this power
Oh yeah (beautiful)
Could u be
The most beautiful girl in the world (beautiful)
Its plain 2 see
Ure the reason that God made a girl (beautiful)
Oh yes u are
(beautiful)
Beautiful beautiful
(beautiful)
Beautiful beautiful
(beautiful)
Beautiful beautiful
(beautiful)
(beautiful)
And when the stars fall one by one from the sky
I know mars could not be 2 far behind
Cuz baby, this kind of beauty has got no reason 2 ever be shy
Cuz honey this kind of beauty is the kind that comes from inside
Could u be (could u be)
The most beautiful girl in the world
So beautiful, beautiful (beautiful)
Its plain 2 see (its plain 2 see)
Ure the reason that God made a girl (beautiful) (ooh yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Could u be
Beautiful (beautiful) (oh yeah)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love Machine
Performed by the time
Love machine, yeah. hey, yeah.
Ive got the toys, 2 turn your body out
Ive got the noise, 2 make u scream and shout
The love machine will take your body higher
cause if it dont then I know ure a liar
Dont lie, u want some love that will make u cry
17 tongues licking from the neck down moving in a quickspeed circular motion
Round and round, I said it round and round,
Like u like it, I can lick it like u like it.
Ive got the toys, 2 turn your body out
Ive got the noise, 2 make u scream and shout
The love machine will take your body higher
cause if it dont then I know ure a liar
Love machine. dont bathe.
The love machine cleanses with a little faith
Like a car wash spitting out soap and oil
There aint never been a cleaner girl in the whole wide world
Turning in your bodys, psyche, dial a perfume that u like,
The love machine will put it on u right.
Ive got the toys, 2 turn your body out (think I dont)
Ive got the noise, 2 make u scream and shout
The love machine will take your body higher
cause if it dont then I know ure a liar
Hey yeah, what time it is, love machine
Love machine, what time it is, love machine
Fast or slow like a leslie goes
If u want I can give u complete control
Over your climax and over mine,
The harder u come, the longer the time, (time)
The longer the time, (higher) the longer the time,
The longer the time, the longer the time, the longer the time it takes
Love machine, the love machine.
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah
Shall we say were in paris? (I dont know)
Shall we say were in rome? (we could.)
Shall we imagine a menage-a-trois? (Im too young.)
Shall we imagine were alone? (what can I say 2 that? )
Shall we dream of each other naked? (shit.)
Shall we get undressed right here? (I dont know.) (love machine)
Shall we do this thing by the books? (what are u doing 2 me? )
Shall we give in 2 our biggest fears? (the love machine) (are u afraid? )
Are u going 2 dance with me? (higher) (yes.) (love machine)
Are u going 2 going to let me spin u around? (I might.)
Are u going 2 kiss me quietly? (cant u hear me? )
Are u going 2 make love with sound? (the love machine, higher love machine)
(isnt that the way its done? )
Are u playing the part of a shadow? (I am not.)
Or are your inhibitions gone? (they are.)
Are u afraid of the love machine? (love machine) (hell no)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.
First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?
Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;
[...] Read more
poem by Lucretius
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Luggage Canada
b ean bag stoer
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Death of Yazdagird
From the Shahnameh
There was a paladin, a Turk by race,
A man of influence and named Bizhan;
He dwelt within the coasts of Samarkand
Where he had many kin. Ill-starred Mahwi,
Becoming self-assertive, wrote to him:-
'Thou prosperous scion of the paladins!
A strife hath risen that will bring thee profit:
The Sháh is of all places here at Marv
And with no troops! His head and crown and state,
Wealth, throne, and host, are thine if thou wilt come.
Recall the vengeance owing to thy sires,
And give this unjust race its just reward.'
Bizhan, considering the letter, saw
That insolent Mahwi would win the world,
Then spake thus to his minister: 'Thou chief
Of upright men! what sayest thou to this?
If I lead forth a host to aid Mahwi
'Twill be my ruin here.'
The minister
Replied: 'O lion-hearted warrior!
'Twere shame to help Mahwi and then withdraw.
Command Barsám to set forth with a host
To aid upon this scene of strife. The sage
Will term thee daft to go and fight in person
At the insistence of this man of Súr.'
Bizhan replied: ''Tis well, I will not go
Myself.'
He therefore bade Barsám to lead
Ten thousand valiant cavaliers and swordsmen
To Marv with all the implements of war
If haply he might take the Sháh. That host
Went like a flying pheasant from Bukhárá
To Marv within one week. One night at cock-crow
The sound of tymbals went up from the plain.
How could the king of kings suspect Mahwi
Of Súr to be his enemy? Shouts rose.
A cavalier reached Yazdagird at dawn
To say: 'Mahwi said thus: 'A host of Turks
Hath come. What is the bidding of the Sháh?
The Khán and the Faghfúr of Chin command:
Earth is not able to support their host!''
The Sháh wroth donned his mail. The armies ranged.
He formed his troops to right and left, and all
Advanced to battle. Spear in hand he held
[...] Read more
poem by Hakim Abu'l-Qasim Ferdowsi Tusi Firdowsi
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Work To Make It Work
(r palmer)
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Don't confine your dreams to bed
You'll get scared if you get lazy
If you can't take enough to satisfy yourself
Then you'll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it don't come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that i'll try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you don't succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
[...] Read more
song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tin Machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Take me anywhere
Somewhere without alcohol
Or goons with muddy hair
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
The zombies that I pass
The guy that beats his baby up
The preachers and their past
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll
Baby doll
Clarity and prayer
Theres more than money moving here
Theres mindless maggot glare
Working horrors-humping tories
Spittle on their chins
Carving up my childrens future
Read em pal and grin
Raging raging raging
Burning in my room
Cmon and get a good idea
Cmon and get it soon
Im waiting on the fire escape
Im not exactly well
Im neither red nor black nor white
Im grey and blown to hell
Tin machine
Tin machine
Make some new computer thing
That puts me on the moon
Not this psycho-time-bomb planet
Poised to meet its maker
Shake a leg
Tin machine
Tin machine
One sick deathless duty to remain endangered species
They reach right out to touch someone
Then wash their crusty hands
Tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll
Baby doll
Blue suede tuneless wonders
Mass confusion-faithless blues
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Payment
A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.
I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.
Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’
I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sexy Feline Machine
Shes a funky feline machine
Crazy cat inside a dream
shes a hunny she stings like a bee
your the punk and shes the queen
shes an angel shes a dove
with a taste for a villans blood
packing heat strutting on the street
chew you up and make you meat
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
Shes a sexy feline machine
Shes a sexy feline machine
Shes a sexy feline machine
Shes a sexy feline machine
you cant stop her
ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya........
Shes a funky feline machine
Crazy cat inside a dream
shes a hunny she stings like a bee
your the punk and shes the queen
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(every thing is not as it seems)
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
Shes a sexy feline machine
you cant stop her
ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya...........
(bow bow bow)
song performed by Fat Joe
Added by Lucian Velea
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[...] Read more
poem by Caasder Fronds
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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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Woman Machine
She'll do your work in half the time
Never sick and can't go blind
Oh, woman machine
Brains of tape that fill her head
She knows more now than all the dead
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Heart of steel and skin that's cold
Can't wear her out, she can't grow old
Oh, woman machine
She goes to bed when her work is through
She'll do it all, just change the tubes
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine-ine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman
She can't talk back
With no playback
But she'll listen
To all your woe
Trade your old one
For a new one
They just don't make 'em like they used to
No!
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
''...exceeds one million when the stop button is pressed,
the... has results PCR621, into the drayer reading pool
to hold the relay on for one quarter second after the
Q603 deenergizes. Therefore, the time delay occurs only
when the stop button is pressed, during the record nine.
The sole function of the capacitor c620 is to maintain
charge in
song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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