A Dusting Of Magic
I`ll write a little lullaby
And pop it on my shelf
If I can find the words
To compose it all myself.
I`ll sprinkle it with magic dust
Let it settle for a while
When its work is done
It will guarantee a smile.
Then when anyone is lonely,
Upset or feeling blue
I will float it on a moonbeam
To find its way to you.
If you softly read it
Magic into you will seep
Your eyes will gently close
And you`ll drift off to sleep.
poem by Heather P Wilson
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Related quotes
Dip It Low [Full Intention Dub Remix]
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
Pop, Pop, Pop that thang
[Verse 1:]
Says he wants you
He says he needs you
It's real talk, then why not make him wait for you
If he really wants you
If he really needs you
Really got to have you
Take your time and feel him out
When he's a good boy
I mean a really really good boy
Why not let him lay with you
That's when you give it to him good
[Chorus 4x:]
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
[Verse 2:]
You getting bold
He growin' cold
It's just the symptoms of young love
Growin' old
You think it's time
And you're thinking of leaving
But give it time
It's late at night
[...] Read more
song performed by Christina Milian
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pop Muzik
New york london paris munich
[repeat 32 times]
New york london paris munich
Everybody talk about...pop muzik
Pop...pop...pop...pop...muzik
Pop...pop...pop...pop...muzik
Pop...pop pop...muzik
Pop...pop pop...muzik
Pop...pop pop...muzik
Pop...pop pop...muzik
Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop muzik
[repeat 8 times]
Shooby dooby doo whop
Pop dop shoo whop
Shooby dooby doo whop
Pop dop shoo whop
Radio video
Boogie with a suitcase
You're living in a disco
Forget about the rat race
Let's do the milkshake
Sell it like a hotcake
Try some, buy some
Fee fie foursome
Talk about...pop muzik
Talk about...pop muzik
Talk about...pop muzik
Talk about...pop muzik
Dance to the pop mart
Top of food chain
Listen to the countdown
They're playing our song again
If you wanna be a gun slinger
Don't be a rock singer
Eenie meenie miney moe
Anyway you want to go
Talk about...pop muzik
Talk about...pop muzik
Talk about...pop muzik
Talk about...pop muzik
Pop...pop muzik
Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop muzik
[repeat until end]
song performed by U2
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.
[...] Read more
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Bring It On!
Bring it on.
Don't keep it as a teaser.
Just bring it on.
You must want me on bended knee.
Bring it on!
I'm curious as I can be.
So bring it on!
You've got my interest high,
Tell me what it is but please don't lie!
What's that you've got?
Does it have my name on it?
Is it in a box?
Is it cool or hot?
What's that you've got?
Is it good or not?
Bring it on.
Don't keep it as a teaser.
Just bring it on.
You must want me on bended knee.
Bring it on!
I'm curious as I can be.
So bring it on!
Just bring it on!
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
What's that you've got?
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
What's that you've got?
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
What's that you've got?
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
What's that you've got?
Don't keep it as a teaser,
You'll distance me.
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
Bring it.
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
Bring it.
Aaahhh...
Pop pop pahdop pop pop.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Legend Of Christ's Nativity
At Bethlehem upon the hill,
The day was done, the night was nigh,
The dusk was deep and had its will,
The stars were very small and still,
Like unblown tapers, faint and high.
The noises had begun to fall,
And quiet stole upon the place,
The howl of dogs along the wall,
Voices that from the houstops call
And answer, and the grace
Of some low breath of even-song
Grew faint apace: between the rocks
In misty pastures, and along
The dim hillside with crook and thong
The lonely shepherds watched their flocks.
The Inn-master within the Inn
Called loudly out after this sort,
'Draw no more water, cease the din,
Pile the loose fodder, and begin
To turn the mules out of the court.
The time has come to shut the gate,
Make way,' he cried, and then began
To sweep and set the litter straight,
And pile the saddle-bags and freight
Of some belated caravan.
The drivers whirled their beasts about,
And beat them on with shoutings great;
The nosebags slipped, the feed flew out,
The water-buckets reeled, the rout
Went jostling onward to the gate.
Came one unto the master then,
Hasting to find him through the gloom,
'Give us a place to rest;' and when
He spake, the master cried again,
'There is no room--there is no room.'
'But I have come from Nazareth,
Full three days' toil to Bethlehem'--
'What matters that,' the master saith,
'For here is hardly room for breath;
The guests curse me for crowding them.'
'Hold, Sir! leave me not so, I pray'--
He plucked him sudden by the sleeve,
[...] Read more
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Make My Head Go Pop
(words & music: per gessle)
Published by hiphappy
I dont know much about you but Im pretty sure I wanna be with you
I havent got a clue what is wrong, what is right, what is left to do
I read a magazine
I watch tv-screen
I dive into a dream only to find me in love with you
I wish youll never stop to make my head go pop
You make my head go pop pop p-pop pop pop pop every time youre around
Its a pleasant valley sunday and everthing seems to be beautiful
People go to church but Im found contemplating by the swimmingpoll
Im gazing at the sun
I watch him bringing joy to everyone
I feed the ducks with a bum only to find me in
Love with you
I wish youll never stop to make my head go pop
You make my head go pop pop pop pop pop pop
You make my head go pop pop p-pop pop pop pop ever time
Youre around
Press to play and never stop to make my head
Go pop
Yea, you make my head go pop pop pop pop pop pop
Every time youre around
Make my head go pop pop pop
Make my head go pop pop
Go pop pop
I feed the ducks with a bun only to find me in love with you
song performed by Roxette
Added by Lucian Velea
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Daddy Pop
Oh daddy
Oooh, sock it to me
See my brother talkin plently head
Steady wishin he could sleep in your bed
Steady wishin he was in your car
Just a steady wishin that he was who you are
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Brother steady talkin while
The girlies steady hop
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Punchin in the rock and roll clock (oh daddy)
See all the people wonder why
You set your goals high - high as the sky
See the people runnin from the truth
Livin in the past
When they need to be livin the new
Pop daddy (oh yeah) - daddy pop
Brother steady talkin while
The girlies steady hop
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Punchin in the rock and roll clock
Pop - daddy pop
Pop - punchin in the rock and roll clock
Talk, guitar, talk
(oh daddy)
Daddy pop is the writer and love is the book
U better look it over before you overlook
One - oh daddy
Two - oh yeah
Three - ooo, sock it to me
Four - oh (come on), your the best
See all my critics wastin time
Worryin about the daddy while he beat you blind
Get your life together - stop your cryin
Whenever you say that you cant -
Thats when you need to be tryin
Pop daddy - daddy pop (oh daddy)
Brother steady talkin while (steady, steady, steady)
The girlies steady hop
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Punchin in the rock and roll clock (punchin in... punchin in)
What kind of fool is this, that thinks daddy will miss
What kind of boy would dis, a list, as long as his-tory itself
I got grooves and grooves up on the shelf (oh daddy)
Deep purple concord jams (oh yeah)
This party I will slam (I dont think)
I dont think you understand (sock it to me)
Whatever you cant do - daddy can
The one and only daddy pop
(oh daddy) one and only - daddy pop
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Magic Dance
You remind me of the baby
What baby? baby with the power
What power? power of voodoo
Who do? you do
Do what? remind me of the baby
I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry
What could I do
My babys love had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew
What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free
I saw my baby, trying hard as babe could try
What could I do
My babys fun had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew
What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that baby spell on me (ooh)
You remind me of the baby
What baby? the baby with the power
What power? power of voodoo
Who do? you do
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song: Popular Culture
Oh I'm sick to death of spin,
And this banal, self-serving sin,
That justifies usurpation like a king.
When shove will come to push,
Weilding power without blush,
This vigilante State is so right-wing!
Pop, pop, popular history,
Grows a crop of myth and mystery,
Where legends reap the cynical flattery,
That maintains the lie:
Of who we are,
What we've become,
In whose name,
Was violence done;
Of why we're here,
And how we came.
Who's excused,
And who's to blame.
Of where we're going,
And where we're from;
And what we're doing,
To right the wrongs...
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Does it diminish or exalt ya?
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Is it Art or just sheer torture?
Pop, pop, popular culture;
Soporific by it's nature,
From mediocre to bad.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Confers on all a bland inertia,
Embracing every fad:
Of how we look,
The way we feel;
What is image,
And what is real.
Of what to eat,
And what to wear;
How best to cheat,
Or how to care.
The puzzle of love,
The seizures of hate;
How best to survive,
The quirks of cruel fate.
The rule of the stars,
Or the lives of the great;
Hints from the famous,
[...] Read more
poem by Dave SmithWhite
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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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Settle Down
Album: Eternal (2001)
[Chorus]
Do you think you're ready
To settle down, settle down babe
Do you think you're ready
To settle down with me babe
Do you think you're ready
To settle down, settle down with me babe
Settle down with me, babe
Settle down
Would you like a house on the hill
Overlooking the ocean side
Tell me, would you like that baby
Or how about a high-rise apartment
In Manhattan on the east side
If that's what you need
I'm here to please
Won't you settle down with me, baby
[Chorus]
We could take a jet plane all the way to Spain
Just to buy you a wedding ring
Tell me, would you like that baby
Oh, talk to me girl
We could get married on Christmas day
On the shores of Montego Bay
If that's what you need
I'm here to please
Won't you settle down with me
If you're ready
Only if you're ready
To settle down, settle down babe
Tell me if you're ready, ready yeah
To settle down with me babe
Do you think you're ready
To settle down, settle down with me babe
Settle down, settle down
Settle down
I'm not trying to buy your love
Money ain't in it
You can't put a rpice on love
Tell me if I'm worthy of
Worthy of you're hand
Girl let's start making plans
You're shining like a star above
You're the light of my life
Oh girl, be my wife
Settle down baby
Oh but first
Do you think you're ready
To settle down, settle down babe
[...] Read more
song performed by Isley Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Fourth
I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!
II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.
III.
In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.
V.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Second Book
TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Gascoigne's Lullaby
1 Sing lullaby, as women do,
2 Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;
3 And lullaby can I sing to,
4 As womanly as can the best.
5 With lullaby they still the child,
6 And if I be not much beguil'd,
7 Full many wanton babes have I,
8 Which must be still'd with lullaby.
9 First, lullaby my youthful years,
10 It is now time to go to bed;
11 For crooked age and hoary hairs
12 Have won the haven within my head.
13 With lullaby, then, youth be still,
14 With lullaby, content thy will,
15 Since courage quails and comes behind,
16 Go sleep, and so beguile thy mind.
17 Next, lullaby my gazing eyes,
18 Which wonted were to glance apace;
19 For every glass may now suffice
20 To show the furrows in my face.
21 With lullaby, then, wink awhile,
22 With lullaby, your looks beguile,
23 Let no fair face nor beauty bright
24 Entice you eft with vain delight.
25 And lullaby my wanton will,
26 Let reason's rule now reign thy thought,
27 Since all too late I find by skill
28 How dear I have thy fancies bought.
29 With lullaby, now take thine ease,
30 With lullaby, thy doubts appease,
31 For trust to this, if thou be still,
32 My body shall obey thy will.
33 Eke, lullaby my loving boy,
34 My little Robin, take thy rest;
35 Since age is cold and nothing coy,
36 Keep close thy coin, for so is best.
37 With lullaby, be thou content,
38 With lullaby, thy lusts relent,
39 Let others pay which have mo pence,
40 Thou art too poor for such expense.
41 Thus lullaby, my youth, mine eyes,
42 My will, my ware, and all that was!
43 I can no mo delays devise,
44 But welcome pain, let pleasure pass.
45 With lullaby, now take your leave,
[...] Read more
poem by George Gascoigne
Added by Poetry Lover
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Settle Down
Settle down, dont settle down without me, no, no
Settle down, Ill settle down for good, yeah
Settle down, Ill settle down around you, yeah, yeah
Settle down, Ill settle down for sure, yeah
Whatever I can do, I will
cause Im good like that
For seven years, seven days, and seven hours
I took my chances, yeah
Whatever I can do, I will
cause I want
Never lose that feeling
Never lose that feeling
Settle down, Ill settle down around you, yeah, yeah
Settle down, Ill settle down for good, yeah
Settle down, dont settle down without me, no, no
Settle down, Ill settle down for sure, yeah
Never lose that feeling
Never, no, no
Never lose your feelings
Never, thats for sure
Never lose that feeling
Never lose that feeling
Never lose that feeling
Never lose that feeling
Never lose that feeling
Never lose that feeling
Whatever I can do, I will
cause I want to, and what I want I get
Seven years, seven days, and seven hours
I took my chances, yeah
Settle down, dont settle down without me, no, no
Settle down, Ill settle down for good, yeah
Settle down, Ill settle down around you, yeah, yeah
Settle down, Ill settle down for sure, yeah
Never lose that feeling
Never, no, no, no
song performed by Zwan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dip It Low Ft. Shawnna
(Shawnna)
Uh, Uh
Uh, Uh, Shawnna (Yeah)
Uh, Uh, Christina
Look
I got some game for you Chickens
Listen a minute, please
'Case you be stuck with them (Shhh)
Hit you up then they leave
You gotta stop for a minute
Watch for a minute, breathe
Take you a squat for a minute
Listen to what I speak
I'm tryin to keep it real
Not tryina make a scene
You tryina keep your man
You gotta make him scream
You gotta put it down
Drop it and dip it low
Wind it around a while
Stop 'n now let it go
(Christina)
Says he wants you
He says he needs you
It's real talking when I make him wait for you
If he really wants you
If he really needs you
Really got to have you
Take your time and feel him out
When it's a good boy
I mean a really really good boy
Why not let him lay with you?
That's when you give it to him good
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out, Let your back roll
Pop t'pop t'pop that thing
Imma show you how to make your man say "Ohh"
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out, Let your back roll
Pop t'pop t'pop that thing
Imma show you how to make your man say "Ohh"
You getting warm
He growin' cold
It's just the symptoms of young love
Growin' old
You think it's time
[...] Read more
song performed by Christina Milian
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fourth Book
THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'
So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
Added by Poetry Lover
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