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Epigram

Epigram

All dolls are equal, but some are
better dressed than others; yet
they all end up- utterly forlorn-
in a cardboard box, on the attic.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Unlock That Box Just For You

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box.
And walk away from it when you get out.
Experience what life is about.
It's not inside to keep up whining,
It's not inside to throw a tantrum and pout.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to move your feet with direct speed.
You've got to unleash from guilt and pity.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to accept what is there and care!
You can not wish for something you think is fair.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to unload despair and grief.
You've got to move with faith and beliefs.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to move your feet with direct speed.
You've got to unleash from guilt and pity.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to accept what is there and care!
You can not wish for something you think is fair.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box.
And walk away from it when you get out.
Experience what life is about.
It's not inside to keep up whining,
It's not inside to throw a tantrum and pout.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Look around and see what your world's about.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Look around and see what your world's about.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Look around and see what your world's about.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Unlock that box and get out.
Unlock that box and get out.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bruce Lee

( bullet got the wrong bloke )
Life kid suck
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life give suck the box drink
Yeah
Life kid drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kids sucker
Box drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life kid seen from the box
Seen from the box
The juice from the box
Kids suck life
Kid get suck from the box
Drink
Bruce lee
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life gets in from the box
Seen from the box
The juice from the box
Kids suck life
Kid get suck from the box
Drink
Bruce lee
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
( yeah yeah yeah yeah )
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life kid ? ? from the box
Seen from the box
Drink from the box

[...] Read more

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Valley Of The Dolls

Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Went the gang of four
Song number one and the rhythm up amping
Drummer beats down 4/4 rock ranking
A bass so deep thud thud spines shaking
And all around mad eyes are rolling
Made up and stunning
As the feet get moving
As the pressure rising
White faces staring
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gang of four
Song after song rockettes up rocking
One hundred watts scream man
My ears are bleedin
Hot bodies charged blonde locks a givin
And all around - young girls are fainting
Their hearts a pumpin
As the spikes are dancing
Shank girl shanking
I saw love vibrating
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gallant four
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
As into the valley of the dolls
4 skulls are splitting
5 fingers are clicking
6 strings are burning
7th hour approaching
8 legs are stomping
9 lives are groovin
10 thousand coasting
X generating
As into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley
Into the valley of the dolls

song performed by Billy Idol
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shore Leave Ornithology

Slacks, coffee trend
I could have been in the us navy
Flapping grey, coffee smoke
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Where the hell were you?
Rough stencil, print music
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard coffee
Saxophone mention barbers, n.y.
The cigarette was burning, the flat shoes
Stool
Bongo, coffee, don't mention that black man
The leather-coat was his
Where was she?
Could have been in the us navy
Flow beating air, table-top, shoulder slung
Shore leave, no sailors here
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard
Liquor slacks twisting
The cigarette was burning
The flat shoes, the flat shoes, the flat shoes
Bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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One Chance

We have one chance.
One chance to get everything right.
We have one chance, one chance.
And if we're lucky we might.
My friends, my habits, my family,
they mean so much to me.
I just don't think that it's right.
I've seen so many ships sail in,
just to head back out again and go off sinking.
I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
Didn't mean to laugh, didn't know I had.
Didn't know the better part of what you said
cuz in your head you are not home.
Didn't get the joke. Didn't mean to poke another,
just to save myself
from some something something or another one.
Well walk home.
I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
We have one chance,
one chance to get everything right.
My friends, my habits, my family,
they mean so much to me.
I just don't think that it's right.
I've seen so many ships sail in,
just to head back out again and go off sinking.

song performed by Modest Mouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Amys In The Attic

Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and brain has gone ecstatic
Not another day of all the suffering and pain I was just a little boy ever so naive
Amy was my best friend, I never want to hurt her
I never wanna ever wanna think about her murder
On the playground, I chase her down the slide
I chase her cross the monkey bars and she would run and hide
Jinglin and tumbling, I pushed her off the sled
Amy coincidently hit her head
Dumbling inside my brain, down came the wade
Amy isnt answering, who would get the blame?
Amy isnt laughing, amy isnt crying
Amy isnt really breathing, God I think shes dying
Suddenly, the air is cold I must get her inside
Even though she died, amy has to hide
Nobody must ever know that I made amy sick
Lock her up forever in the attic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Every day I suffer but eleven years have passed
How long will this keep and the nightmares last
Sitting in my living room, another strange feeling
I think Im hearing tiny footsteps on the ceiling
Looking in my mirror, the image isnt clear
I feel as if a little girl is standing at my rear and
Then I awake at the blink of an eye
Voices from the attic yellin, why?
What if amy wasnt dead living in the box
Banging on the walls, rattling the locks
Feeding on the roaches, rodents, and filth
And when theres nothing left, she feeds off herself
Why do I think in amy of this way?
She was once a lovely girl running out to play
Maybe its all a dream insane fanatic
Maybe theres no amy in the attic after all
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to

[...] Read more

song performed by Insane Clown Posse
Added by Lucian Velea
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All Dressed Up

Dont you see
Im the one for you, youre the one for me
Dont you see
The love Ive got is the love you need
Dont you see
Im all dressed up
To be what you want
Me to be Im all dressed up
To be what you want me to be
Im all dressed up
All dressed up, all dressed up
Dont you see, dont you see
The infinite possibilities
Dont you need, dont you need
The kind of love that I need
Dont you see me, dont you see me
Im all dressed up
To be what you want me to be
Im all dressed up
To be what you taught me to be
Im all dressed up
All messed up, all messed up
You dont even notice me
Moving you like a ton of glaciers
You dont even notice me
Soothing you like a long lost sister
You dont even care
No you dont even care
All dressed up
With no place to go
But home, but home
Im all dressed up
To be what you want me to be
Im all dressed up
To be what you want me to be
Im all dressed up
All dressed up, all dressed up
You dont even comfort me
And carry on with the will of samson
You dont even comfort me
You keep your faith and you keep your phantoms
And you dont even care
No you dont even care
All dressed up still theres something wrong
Im all dressed up and youre just a song
Im all dressed up youre forever gone everlong
You dont even care
No you dont even care
You dont even care
No you dont even care

[...] Read more

song performed by Veruca Salt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Busy Booked Hooker

Dressed nice and neatly.
She looked so hot.
With a weave that fizzled.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
With composure there.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She avoided disaster.

Dressed nice and neat,
She played it sweet,
And undeterred.
She had wisdom and the drive...
To keep my interest flowing.
While 'peaking' as I'm growing,
To maximize the widening of her thighs.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
With composure there.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She avoided disaster.

Dressed nice and neat,
She played it sweet,
And undeterred.
She had wisdom and the drive...
To keep my interest flowing.
While 'peaking' as I'm growing,
To maximize the widening of her thighs.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She was not that sweet.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She was a noonday hooker.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
Just an overbooked hooker.
On a call,
To meet.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unlock That Box!

Everybody knows.
You're behind closed doors.
Wishing to live a life you hide.
But afraid to step outside.

So...
Unlock that box!
You like to peep but get on out.
Too many people keep their wishes swept away.
To have their walls upon them fall...
As they dry to rot and fade.

Unlock that box!
Get out and walk the block.
And stop playing the game with life,
Of love or love me not.

Everybody knows.
You're behind closed doors.
Wishing to live a life you hide.
But afraid to step outside.

So...
Unlock that box!
Or...
Get somebody who will prove,
That you can move and do it!

Don't be neurotic you can do something about it.

Unlock that box.
Why you choose to be neurotic.
Unlock that box.
You can do something about it.
Unlock that box.
You're like an addict on narcotics.

And everybody knows you're there behind closed doors.

Unlock that box.
Why you choose to be neurotic.
Unlock that box.
You can do something about it.
Unlock that box.
You're like an addict on narcotics.
Unlock that box.
Why you choose to be neurotic.
Unlock that box.
You're like an addict on narcotics.
Unlock that box!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All Dressed Up For School

Doot doot doot-doot doot
Doot doot doot-doot doot
Doot doot doot-doot doot
Doot doot doot-doot doot
Well she first caught my eye a runnin' round in shorts
But she never bothered with her hair
Just a barefooted chick with all skinned up knees
Yeah she didn't care what she'd wear
(All dressed up for school)
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
All dressed up for school
All summer long she had a crush on me
But I just couldn't care at all
But new to school threads really did it for me
Yeah she's turned into a doll
(All dressed up for school)
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
All dressed up for school
Weah
Goes out every night 'cause she's a sharp little doll
And the guys can't leave her alone
Now she hardly finds the time to talk to me
She's not the little girl I've always known
(All dressed up for school)
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
Dressed up for school, ooo what a turn on
All dressed up for school
Doot doot doot-doot doot
Doot doot doot-doot doot
Doot doot doot-doot doot
Doot doot doot-doot doot

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Leave What You Do Remembered

I know it's true.
You can dropp my love.
And stop,
Your lovin'.
I know it's true.
You can drop,
My love.
Hoping not...
My possibilities,
For a magic night with you.

I know it's true.
You can dropp my love.
And stop...
Your lovin'.
I know it's true.
You can dropp my love.
Hoping not...
My possibilities,
Of a future rendezvous.

You've got a lot of moxie in stock.
Wrapped in a beautiful body.
With a mind packaged in place.
That's hot to me!

Not a toxin that I had you've got!
I like that alot.

I want to keep someone around me like you...
In my love box,
Loved locked!

In my love box,
Loved locked!

In my love box,
Loved locked!

In my love box,
Loved locked!

I want to keep someone around like you...
In my love box,
And loved locked!

You've got a lot of moxie in stock.
Wrapped in a beautiful body.
With a mind packaged in place.
That's hot to me!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11

SCARCE had the rosy Morning rais’d her head
Above the waves, and left her wat’ry bed;
The pious chief, whom double cares attend
For his unburied soldiers and his friend,
Yet first to Heav’n perform’d a victor’s vows: 5
He bar’d an ancient oak of all her boughs;
Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac’d,
Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac’d.
The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn,
Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 10
Was hung on high, and glitter’d from afar,
A trophy sacred to the God of War.
Above his arms, fix’d on the leafless wood,
Appear’d his plumy crest, besmear’d with blood:
His brazen buckler on the left was seen; 15
Truncheons of shiver’d lances hung between;
And on the right was placed his corslet, bor’d;
And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: 20
“Our toils, my friends, are crown’d with sure success;
The greater part perform’d, achieve the less.
Now follow cheerful to the trembling town;
Press but an entrance, and presume it won.
Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, 25
As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice.
Turnus shall fall extended on the plain,
And, in this omen, is already slain.
Prepar’d in arms, pursue your happy chance;
That none unwarn’d may plead his ignorance, 30
And I, at Heav’n’s appointed hour, may find
Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind.
Meantime the rites and fun’ral pomps prepare,
Due to your dead companions of the war:
The last respect the living can bestow, 35
To shield their shadows from contempt below.
That conquer’d earth be theirs, for which they fought,
And which for us with their own blood they bought;
But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
To the sad city of Evander send, 40
Who, not inglorious, in his age’s bloom,
Was hurried hence by too severe a doom.”
Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way,
Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay.
Acoetes watch’d the corpse; whose youth deserv’d 45
The father’s trust; and now the son he serv’d
With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
Th’ attendants of the slain his sorrow share.
A troop of Trojans mix’d with these appear,
And mourning matrons with dishevel’d hair. 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Locked in a Box

I'm in a locked box
and I'm searching
for the key.
The key that
will set me free.
But wait this locked box
is like no other...
the locked box I'm
in is not made from
cardboard, glass,
wood, plastic or
leather.
The locked box I’m in
is made by an alloyed created
by my own hands.
My mind is the locked
box that I'm in.
The bottom is made from
the ghetto streets
I grew up on.
And one side of the box
is made from the violence
and abuse I suffered
at home.
Now another side is made from
the drugs and alcohol I used
to escape.
While another side is made of
my own self hate.
Now the last side of the locked
box is made from the things
that used to be my hopes
and dreams,
and the lid of this locked box
is made from my nightmares
and screams.
Now, I’m scratching the walls
trying to set myself free.
Because I can feel this
lock box closing in on me.
Closing in so tight it is taking
away my breath.
This locked box is becoming
my resting place after my death.
Wait a minute death may be
the key.
For if I die I will be free.
I'm in a locked box.

poem by Lore Me34
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Sankraanti

Those three days of
Sankraanti every year
from the times i've known
it was as if the house was
flodded with people from
all walks of life and we were
designers, architects and land-scapers

into the late hours returned dad
from his endless hours of work
and then the night would come alive

trunks of dolls carefully wrapped
in our swaddling clothes were carefully
spread on beds n blanktes-porcelean
english lady that grandma brought from
her maternal home, birth of jesus with
mary and joseph on either side of the baby-bed,
two variants of rama, sita, laxman and hanuman
dasavataaras, brahmins at a meal, toddy tapper,
ravenous crow, kirana merchant n his wfe, bowl of fruits,
birds in delicate transperant glass-you name it, it's there
and down below on either side were landscaped parks, forests,
hospital, dotted with lanes of sprouted methis n mustrad...

somehow dad had fascination only for the white procelean
and none of those earthern gods in synthetic paint

every year would be added a new doll
all dolls collected over thirty years and now
when i count the years, they're by now sixty plus
sadly locked up in trunks and palced on the attic...
the last even i recall was some twnety years ago
when our own children were barely two years...

all innovation and appropriate techology we learnt
observing dad arranging some six to eight rows
with every wooden plank to bricks and stoned from the road-side
to rice tins and travel trunks precariously balancing all the dolls...

people came all the three days
to recieve 'taambulam' and praised
the dolls endlessly and finally declare
'doctor ji has four dolls, why these again! '
and we would laugh shyly and see them off

the fourth day was a sad farewell to the dolls
once again wrapped carefully back into the trunk...

life was simple, fun, and there was so much to look forward to...

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Brisbane Reverie

As I sit beside my little study window, looking down
From the heights of contemplation (attic front) upon the town
(Attic front, per week — with board, of course — a sov'reign and a crown);—

As I sit—(these sad digressions, though, are much to be deplored)—
In my lonely little attic—(it is all I can afford;
And I should have mentioned, washing not included in the board);—

As I sit—(these wild parentheses my very soul abhors)—
High above the ills of life, its petty rumours, paltry wars—
(The attic back is cheaper, but it wants a chest of drawers);—

In the purpling light of half-past six before the stars are met,
While the stricken sun clings fondly to his royal mantle yet,
Dying glorious on the hill-tops in reluctant violet,—
Just the time that favours vision, blissful moments that unbar
The inner sight (assisted by a very mild cigar),
To behold the things that are not, side by side with those that are,—

Just the very light and very time that suit the bard's complaint,
When through present, past, and future, roams his soul without restraint—
When no clearer are the things that are than are the things that ain't;—

With a dual apperception, metaphysical, profound,
Past and present running parallel, I scan the scene around—
(Were there two of us the attic front would only be a pound).—

Beneath mine eyes the buried past arises from the tomb,
Not cadaverous or ghostly, but in all its living bloom—
(I would rather pay the odds than have a partner in my room).

How the complex now contrasteth with the elemental then!
Tide of change outflowing flow of ink, outstripping stride of pen!
(Unless it were . . . . but no . . . . they only take in single men).

Where trackless wilderness lay wide, a hundred ages through—
I can see a man with papers, from my attic point of view,
Who for gath'ring house assessments gets a very decent screw.

Where forest-contiguity assuaged the summer heats,
It is now an argued question, when the City Council meets,
If we mightn't buy a tree or two to shade the glaring streets.

Where no sound announced the flight of time, not even crow of cock,
I can see the gun that stuns the town with monitory shock,

And a son of that same weapon hired to shoot at one o'clock.

Where the kangaroo gave hops, the “old man” fleetest of the fleet,
Mrs. Pursy gives a “hop” to-night to all the town's élite,

[...] Read more

poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Vida's Game Of Chess

TRANSLATED

ARMIES of box that sportively engage
And mimic real battles in their rage,
Pleased I recount; how, smit with glory's charms,
Two mighty Monarchs met in adverse arms,
Sable and white; assist me to explore,
Ye Serian Nymphs, what ne'er was sung before.
No path appears: yet resolute I stray
Where youth undaunted bids me force my way.
O'er rocks and cliffs while I the task pursue,
Guide me, ye Nymphs, with your unerring clue.
For you the rise of this diversion know,
You first were pleased in Italy to show
This studious sport; from Scacchis was its name,
The pleasing record of your Sister's fame.

When Jove through Ethiopia's parch'd extent
To grace the nuptials of old Ocean went,
Each god was there; and mirth and joy around
To shores remote diffused their happy sound.
Then when their hunger and their thirst no more
Claim'd their attention, and the feast was o'er;
Ocean with pastime to divert the thought,
Commands a painted table to be brought.
Sixty-four spaces fill the chequer'd square;
Eight in each rank eight equal limits share.
Alike their form, but different are their dyes,
They fade alternate, and alternate rise,
White after black; such various stains as those
The shelving backs of tortoises disclose.
Then to the gods that mute and wondering sate,
You see (says he) the field prepared for fate.
Here will the little armies please your sight,
With adverse colours hurrying to the fight:
On which so oft, with silent sweet surprise,
The Nymphs and Nereids used to feast their eyes,
And all the neighbours of the hoary deep,
When calm the sea, and winds were lull'd asleep
But see, the mimic heroes tread the board;
He said, and straightway from an urn he pour'd
The sculptured box, that neatly seem'd to ape
The graceful figure of a human shape:--
Equal the strength and number of each foe,
Sixteen appear'd like jet, sixteen like snow.
As their shape varies various is the name,
Different their posts, nor is their strength the same.
There might you see two Kings with equal pride
Gird on their arms, their Consorts by their side;
Here the Foot-warriors glowing after fame,

[...] Read more

poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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Juke Box Hero

Standing in the rain, with his head hung low
Couldnt get a ticket, it was a sold out show
Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene
Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream
He heard one guitar, just blew him away
He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day
Bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store
Didnt know how to play it, but he knew for sure
That one guitar, felt good in his hands
Didnt take long, to understand
Just one guitar, slung way down low
Was one way ticket, only one way to go
So he started rockin
Aint never gonna stop
Gotta keep on rockin
Someday hes gonna make it to the top
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Hes a juke box hero
He took one guitar, juke box hero, stars in his eyes
Juke box hero, hell come alive tonight
In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour
Thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door
Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain
And that one guitar made his whole life change
Now he needs to keep rockin
He just cant stop
Gotta keep on rockin
That boy has got to stay on top
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Hes a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Yeah, juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
With that one guitar hell come alive
Come alive tonight
Yeah, hes gotta keep rockin
He just cant stop
Gotta keep on rockin
That boy has got to stay on top
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Hes a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Just one guitar, put stars in his eyes
Hes just a juke box hero, aah aah aah
Juke box hero, juke box hero, hes got stars in his eyes
Stars in his eyes

song performed by Foreigner
Added by Lucian Velea
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Trapped In A Box

Trapped in a box of tremendous size
It distorts my vision, it closes my eyes
Attracts filthy flies and pollutes in the skies
Sucks up our lives and proliferates lies
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box, four walls as sky
Got a screen for a window about two feet wide
My mind rides and slides as my circuits are fried
No room for thought, use the box as my guide
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To lifes paradox
Were all trapped in a box
Trapped in a box Im not alone
I know of others with a box as their home
Light only enters from a crack or a hole
This is not enough for a human to grow
Trapped in a box
Chorus: always wanting a different view
Instant gratification for you
Reality gone in a single click
Just hope that that switch wont stick
Trapped in a box my life becomes void
All I thought for myself is now destroyed
Controlling my mind, what to eat, what to buy
Sublinal rules: how to live, how to die
Trapped in a box

song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
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Squeeze Box

Mamas got a squeeze box
Mamas got a squeeze box
She wears on her chest
She wears on her chest
And when daddy comes home
And when daddy comes home
He never gets no rest
He never gets no rest
cause shes playing all night
cause shes playing all night
And the musics all right
And the musics all right
Mamas got a squeeze box
Mamas got a squeeze box
Daddy never sleeps at night
Daddy never sleeps at night
Well the kids dont eat
Well the kids dont eat
And the dog cant sleep
And the dog cant sleep
Theres no escape from the music
Theres no escape from the music
In the whole damn street
In the whole damn street
cause shes playing all night
cause shes playing all night
And the musics all right
And the musics all right
Mamas got a squeeze box
Mamas got a squeeze box
Daddy never sleeps at night
Daddy never sleeps at night
She goes in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out
She goes in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out
Shes playing all night
Shes playing all night
And the musics all tight
And the musics all tight
Mamas got a squeeze box
Mamas got a squeeze box
Daddy never sleeps at night
Daddy never sleeps at night
She goes, squeeze me, come on and squeeze me
She goes, squeeze me, come on and squeeze me
Come on and tease me like you do
Come on and tease me like you do
Im so in love with you
Im so in love with you
Mamas got a squeeze box
Mamas got a squeeze box

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rode to a Knight Impale - after John Keats - Ode to a Nightingale

. :) kindly refer to notes. :)

My part aches and a rousing stiffness pains
my whole as though viagra I had drank,
or loosened up some pheronomic chains
split seconds past, endorphined, anticipating prank.
'Tis not through envy that I ask a lot,
but seeking through your image happiness,
love-lipped epitome of all that please
amused muse stays aware that what you've got
conjurs wet dreams, streams’ ready eddies numberless,
straw hollow swallows spring in full-throated ease.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
fat vat prime time cocked, erect in deep pelvic berth,
tasting of horny fauna’s jelly beans,
dancing tandem to tambourine song since sunny birth!
O for a beaker full of the warm south,
filled to whet winking brink noways obscene,
with beaded bubbles oozing at the brim,
of purple-hooded mouth;

That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
and with thee knock on doors quite in the swim:
ride far away, knot solve, and quite forget
what you senses leaves had never known,
no weariness, no fever, and no fret.
Here, men lose wit to hear each other groan
as palsy shakes a few, sad, beardless chins,
where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and sighs;
where but to think of size baits rod with sorrow
and leaden-eyed despairs,
No, Beauty, none may mime your lustrous eyes,
where new Love pines, fears un-orgasmic morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
not roped in by vile censors, critics’ pards,
but on untrammelled wings of intimacy,
though most dull brains perplex, their sloth retards.
Already with thee! tender is the night,
and tenderness my motto ‘tis well known
to massage tissues starry nights, sun days,
without the which love’s light
moons absence of reflection, breezes blown
through tortuous gameplays, inexperienced ways.

You should not care what flowers are at your feet,
for all is incense garland, and endows

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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