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Why Lady Why

Words and music by teddy gentry and richard scott
Why, lady, why, cant I leave you alone?
I try, lady, try, but the feelings too strong.
You stay on my mind. feel just like a fool.
Why, lady, why, cant I get over you?
Why, lady, why? it was easy before.
I try, lady, try, but it aint easy no more.
To be on my way would be the best thing to do.
Why, lady, why, cant I get over you?
Why, lady, why, cant I leave you alone?
I try, lady, try, but the feelings too strong.
To be on my way would be the best thing to do.
Why, lady, why, cant I get over you?

song performed by Alabama
Added by Lucian Velea
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Teddy Boy

This is the story
About a boy named ted.
If his mother said:
Ted, be good, he would.
Be good, ted. alright.
She told him tales
About a soldier dad,
But it made her sad.
Then she cried, oh my.
Ted used to tell her
He'd be twice as good
And he knew he could,
'cos in his head he said:
Mummy don't worry,
Your teddy boy's here
Taking good care of you.
Mama don't worry,
Your teddy boy's here.
Teddy's gonna see you through.
And she said:
Teddy don't worry
Your mummy's here,
Taking good care of you.
She said: teddy don't worry,
Your mummy's here,
Teddy's gonna see you through.
He said: ta da da...
Then came the day
She found herself a man.
Teddy turned and ran
Oh far away, oh yeah.
He couldn't stand
Just to be around,
So he left the town
Far away, yeah yeah.
Ted used to tell her
He'd be twice as good
And he know he could,
'cos in his head he said:
Mummy don't worry,
Now teddy boy's here,
Taking good care of you.
Mummy don't worry,
Your teddy boy's here.
Teddy's gonna see you through.
And she said:
Teddy don't worry,
Now mummy's here,
Taking good care of you.
Teddy don't worry,

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song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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Girls It Aint Easy

(ronald dunbar / edith wayne)
Yeah, it aint easy
Girls it aint easy
To keep the man you love satisfied
It aint easy
Girls it aint easy
To keep the one you love by your side
A womans work is never done
Never stops, it goes on and on
You work your fingers to the bone
You gotta be home every time he phones
Sometimes the going gets a little tough
Seems like my best aint good enough
Keeps you losing sleep
Seven days a week, yeah
It aint easy
Girls it aint easy
To keep the man you love satisfied
It aint easy
Girls it aint easy
To keep the one you love by your side
To keep him happy
You must sacrifice
Be ready and willing
To spend lonely nights
Do what you can
Though he seems ungrateful
Love him so true
Even though he seems unfaithful
But when his hope is gone
And life gets him down
Thats when hell say
He needs you around
Hard to live with him
Hard to live without him
It aint easy, no
Oh, yeah, it aint easy
Girls it aint easy
It aint easy
Girls it aint easy
You got to favour him with understanding
When understanding is what he needs
We try hard to give them respect
All that we get is their regret
But when theyre in trouble
They need our love and care
No matter when we gotta be right there
In between the crying
Gotta keep trying
It aint easy

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song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

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poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, "Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?"

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead.
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the tree
Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarr'd from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
"Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize."

To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."

"Would rather you had let them fall," she cried,
"Plunge and be lost--ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!--ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given--
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river--that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Aint No Particular Way

(here it comes
Mmm, the thing about love)
Love has a way to find ya
Sneaks up right behind ya
There aint no particular way
You dont know when its gonna
Come runnin round the corner
There aint no particular way
So, dont give up (dont give up
On love till you get your share)--
Youre gonn get your share
The thing about love (the thing about
Love is its)--is that its everywhere
[chorus]
There aint nowhere it wont hide
(there aint nowhere it wont hide)
There aint no speed it wont drive
(there aint no speed in wont drive)
There aint no law it wont break
(there aint no law it wont break)
There aint no chance it wont take
There aint no, no particular way
Oh, it could come so fast it fools ya
Might take its time to move ya
There aint no particular way
It might just drift in while youre dreaming
It dont sleep, always schemin
There aint no particular way
So, dont give up (dont give up
On love til you get your share)--
Youre gonna get your share
The thing about love (the thing about
Love is its)--is that its everywhere
[repeat chorus]
You cant hide, oh
(there aint no time) it comes when you least expect it--
(there aint no day)
When you thought youd been rejected
(there aint no how)(there aint no way)
There aint no particular way
(there aint no why)
Love aint for just the lucky
(there aint no when)
Its there for everybody
(there ain no what)
There aint no particular way
(there aint no way)
So, dont give up (dont give up
On love til you get your share)--
Youre gonna get your share

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song performed by Shania Twain
Added by Lucian Velea
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Biznite

Biznite... Biznite...
Nothing but it

I'm dippin' in a black milleny benny sittin on twentys
Top off when the city's windy me and pretty Cindy
She dressed up in pretty Fendi and she sippin remy
I'm Iceburg nuttin but whenny all the way to my tinny
I'm hotter than a semi' cause this girl she
and plus my head is spinnin from drinkin this fifth of Henney.
I stop at any deli cause this freakin with her penny
and aint no tellin how many she umm already been in.
We get inside the room and she gigglin plain grinnin
Slowly the lights dimmin and I'm slippin on my jimmy
I'm feelin with her titties this is only the beginnin
I stick it in her kitty now she screamin come on gimme
I'm flippin this chick over and I caught her slowly bendin
I'm hittin got her twistin this is my ninny you hear me
And when its time to quit I got her soakin wet and drippin
She asked me for a kiss ah... .

[CHORUS]
Biznite is you trippin
Biznite is you trippin
What
Biznite is you trippin
What
Biznite is you trippin
He he he Wha..
You nothin but a sack chasin cock chasin biznite
Your never gonna amount to anythin but a biznite
cuz all I wanna do is hit it from... I don't even wanna talk
if your baby come born with braids I aint the pa
nope I aint the pa
hell no I aint the pa
no I aint the pa
hell no I aint the pa
nope I aint the pa
hell no I aint the pa
if your baby come out saying wha.. I aint the pa

I ride up in a Porshe Boxter see this fox her name was Tasha
I got her when I stopped her at McDonalds with her partner
I jocked the way she rocked her lil Versasce and her Prada
I'm Iceberg (?? ??? ??)
I jot her my phone number later on gave me a holla
I popped up by her mamas so her nigga wont know nada
She took thirty minutes play me like a some kinda coward
Now hopped up in my car and started talkin bout her doctor
She said she started ridin it in her babys fathers Honda
She wish that he would trade it in and cop a brand new Mazda

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song performed by Lil' Wayne from Lights Out
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A Pleasant Ballad Of King Henry II. And The Miller Of Mansfield

Part the First.

Henry, our royall kind, would ride a hunting
To the greene forest so pleasant and faire;
To see the harts skipping, and dainty does tripping,
Unto merry Sherwood his nobles repaire:
Hawke and hound were unbound, all things prepar'd
For the game, in the same, with good regard.

All a long summers day rode the king pleasantlye,
With all his princes and nobles eche one;
Chasing the hart and hind, and the bucke gallantlye,
Till the dark evening forc'd all to turne home.
Then at last, riding fast, he had lost quite
All his lords in the wood, late in the night.

Wandering thus wearilye, all alone, up and downe,
With a rude miller he mett at the last;
Asking the ready way unto faire Nottingham,
'Sir,' quoth the miller, 'I meane not to jest,
Yet I thinke, what I thinke, sooth for to say;
You doe not lightlye ride out of your way.'

'Why, what dost thou tihnk of me,' quoth our king merrily,
'Passing thy judgement upon me so briefe?'
'Good faith,' sayd the miller, 'I meane not to flatter thee,
I guess thee to bee but some gentleman thiefe;
Stand thee backe, in the darke; light not adowne,
Lest that I presently crack thy knaves crowne.'

'Thou dost abuse me much,' quoth the king, 'saying thus;
I am a gentleman; lodging I lacke.'
'Thou hast not,' quoth th' miller, 'one groat in thy purse;
All thy inheritance hanges on thy backe.'
'I have gold to discharge all that I call;
If it be forty pence, I will pay all.'

'If thou beest a true man,' then quoth the miller,
'I sweare by my toll-dish, I'll lodge thee all night.'
'Here's my hand,' quoth the king, 'that was I ever.'
'Nay, soft,' quoth the miller, 'thou may'st be a sprite.
Better I'll know thee, ere hands we will shake;
With none but honest men hands will I take.'

Thus they went all along unto the millers house,
Where they were seething of puddings and souse;
The miller first enter'd in, after him went the king;
Never came hee in soe smoakye a house.
'Now,' quoth hee, 'let me see here what you are.'
Quoth our king, 'Looke your fill, and do not spare.'

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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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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:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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The Last Tournament

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, `Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?'

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead,
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutched at the crag, and started through mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and through the tree
Rushed ever a rainy wind, and through the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarred from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
`Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize.'

To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'

`Would rather you had let them fall,' she cried,
`Plunge and be lost-ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!-ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given-
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river-that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Little Johnny Hooker

Oh, Im gonna tell you a story bout a little boy.
Oh, a sad little boy.
Im talkin bout little johnny hooker.
Little johnny hooker was a sissy on the street all his life --
All his natural born life.
Until his daddy took him aside and said,
Son, now heres your switchblade knife boy.
He said get out in the street boy,
Cut yourself some meat boy.
Get out on your own side of the road,
And lighten my load.
Johnny made a mistake and took his knife down to school one day.
Hey, yeah, yeah.
And, when the bell rang for lunch.
Freddie miller went and got in johnnys way boy.
He took his knife from his pocket, pushed a button on the side.
When he seen the queen steel,
You ought to seen the light in freddys eyes.
Oh, yeah ...
Little johnny hooker learned his lesson from the knife now you see,
(yes he did.)
Because for what he done to fred he spent some time in a penitentiary.
It was a day in the courtroom, exhibit letter a.
When the jury seen the knife they put little johnnys ass away.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Talkin bout jooohhhnnny.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Oh, little johnny boy.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Talkin bout jooohhhnnny.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Oh, little johnny boy.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
He was a young boy,
Hes thinkin the rest of his life,
For what he done with the knife.
Talkin bout jooohhhnnny.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Jooohhhnnny.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Little johnny hooker, he aint a bad looker, he aint a bad man, he aint.
Jooohhhnnny.
(repeat to fade)

song performed by Grand Funk Railroad
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let It All Be Music

Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song

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song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Richard Minutolo

IN ev'ry age, at Naples, we are told,
Intrigue and gallantry reign uncontrolled;
With beauteous objects in abundance blessed.
No country round so many has possessed;
Such fascinating charms the FAIR disclose,
That irresistibly soft passion flows.

'MONG these a belle, enchanting to behold,
Was loved by one, of birth and store of gold;
Minutolo (and Richard) was his name,
In Cupid's train a youth of brilliant fame:
'Tween Rome and Paris none was more gallant,
And num'rous hearts were for him known to pant.

CATELLA (thus was called our lady fair,)
So long, howe'er, resisted Richard's snare,
That prayers, and vows, and promises were vain;
A favour Minutolo could not gain.
At length, our hero weary, coldness showed,
And dropt attendance, since no kindness flowed;
Pretended to be cured:--another sought,
And feigned her charms his tender heart had caught:
Catella laughed, but jealousy was nigh;
'Twas for her friend that now He heaved the sigh.

THESE dames together met, and Richard too,
The gay gallant a glowing picture drew,
Of certain husbands, lovers, prudes, and wives;
Who led in secret most lascivious lives.
Though none he named, Catella was amazed;
His hints suspicions of her husband raised;
And such her agitation and affright,
That, anxious to procure more certain light,
In haste she took Minutolo aside,
And begged the names he would not from her hide,
With all particulars, from first to last:--
Her ardent wish to know whate'er had passed.

SO long your reign, said Richard, o'er my mind,
Deny I could not, howsoe'er inclined;
With Mrs. Simon often is your spouse;
Her character no doubt your spleen will rouse;
I've no design, observe to give offence,
But, when I see your int'rest in suspense,
I cannot silent keep; though, were I still
A slave, devoted wholly to your will,
As late I moved, I would not drop a word
Mistrust of lovers may not be absurd;
Besides, you'd fancy other motives led
To tell you of your husband what was said;

[...] Read more

poem by La Fontaine
Added by Poetry Lover
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Concrete Kingdom

I hear cries tonight
I hear cries tonight
Aint no love
Aint no life
I hear cries tonight
I hear cries tonight
I hear cries tonight
I hear, I hear
I hear cries tonight
I hear cries tonight
I hear cries tonight
I hear, I hear
Like all of the best, weve been taken
Like all of the lost, weve been had
Pray god, kingdom come, deliver us,
Amen
All life, is it lost, have they won
Aint no love in a concrete kingdom,
Aint much life
Aint no life in a concrete kingdom,
I hear cries tonight
Aint no love
Aint no life
Aint no right,
Whats for my son
When all of the good,
Have been taken
Where all of the lost,
Have gone
Ravaged, then raped, annihilation-amen
All life, is it lost, have they won
Aint no love in a concrete kingdom
Aint much light
Aint no life in a concrete kingdom
I hear the cries tonight
Aint no love
Aint no light
Aint no right
Aint much love in a concrete kingdom,
Aint much light
Whats for my son
I - I wanna know why
I wanna know why,
Were shrinking from the sun
I said now i, I wanna know why
I wanna know why, theres poison - everyone
There aint no love, in a concrete kingdom
Aint much light
Aint no life in a concrete kingdom
I hear the cries tonight - I hear, I hear

[...] Read more

song performed by Billy Idol
Added by Lucian Velea
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Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think youre too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin behind an losin yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of lifes busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin up
If the wine dont come to the top of yer cup
If the winds got you sideways with with one hand holdin on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the woods easy findin but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin and the street gets too long
And you start walkin backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrows mornin seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin
And yer rope is a-slidin cause yer hands are a-drippin
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipes a-pourin
And the lightnins a-flashing and the thunders a-crashin
And the windows are rattlin and breakin and the roof tops a-shakin
And yer whole worlds a-slammin and bangin
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didnt they tell me the day I was born
And you start gettin chills and yer jumping from sweat
And youre lookin for somethin you aint quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole worlds a-watchin with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and shes long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when theyre fryin
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bells bangin loudly but you cant hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyesve turned filthy from the sight-blindin dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin three queens
And its makin you mad, its makin you mean
Like in the middle of life magazine
Bouncin around a pinball machine
And theres something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin
But its trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin in bed
And no matter how you try you just cant say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Undying One- Canto III

'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?

If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!

'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!

'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Added by Poetry Lover
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My Blue Teddy Bear

The blue teddy bear smiled at me
The first time that we met!
It's a fact, he's always happy,
Not one sign of regret!
When I hold him, he holds me, too,
He's mine and mine alone...
So don't hurt him, I'm warning you!
Fair dos, go get your own!

My teddy sits upon my lap,
I read him fairy tales,
I hold his hands to help him clap,
Sometimes I trim his nails...
I let him ride upon my back
As I walk up to bed...
Then just us two will hit the sack
And no more words are said...

My teddy doesn't snore at all,
My teddy's too polite!
Some toys will drive me up the wall,
Yet teddy hates to fight!
He's full of love like no-one else,
He's truly my best friend,
So you play with your tinkerbells,
They drive me round the bend!

I'd rather play with teddy here
Than go and meet the Queen!
I'd rather hold my teddy near
And wash and keep him clean!
I put his waistcoat on again
And straighten up his tie
And compliment him there and then
And hold his head up high!

Oh, teddy, you're adorable,
You're handsome every day...
In fact, I think you're wonderful
Each time you kneel and pray!
How many teddies pray like that?
You're special, yes, you are!
And so much better than our cat,
'Cos, teddy, you're a star!

Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.

poem by Denis Martindale
Added by Poetry Lover
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Feel The Music

What is music and why is it here?

Music is made for the ear.

To be made and played for many of decades.

To be embraced by different cultures and race,

Music

the heart of man

Only it seems now only a few understand

Music.

The upbeat the down beat the chords the rhythm it plays.

Exchanging and changing forever.

Music.

Not one man can take the responsibility for making the music the music made us.

You have to trust in the

Music

Classical Jazz, Swing, Country everything it brings.

Music.

Although music has a lot of names it will always remain the same

Music will always change.

The dramatic character of a story.

It will always end with the final glory.

Because of its graceful authority

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poem by Tiffany Burton
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(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear

Oh baby let me be, your lovin' teddy bear
Put a chain around my neck, and lead me anywhere
Oh let me be (oh let him be)
Your teddy bear
I don't wanna be your tiger
'Cause tigers play too rough
I don't wanna be your lion
'Cause lions ain't the kind you love enough
I just wanna be, your teddy bear
Put a chain around my neck and lead me anywhere
Oh let me be (oh let him be)
Your teddy bear
Baby let me be, around you every night
Run your fingers through my hair
And cuddle me real tight
Oh let me be (oh let him be)
Your teddy bear
I don't wanna be your tiger
'Cause tigers play too rough
I don't wanna be your lion
'Cause lions ain't the kind you love enou-ou-ou-ough
Just wanna be, your teddy bear
Put a chain around my neck and lead me anywhere
Oh let me be (oh let him be) your teddy bear
Oh let me be (oh let him be) your teddy bear...
I just wanna be your teddy bear (ooh...)

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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