Charlie Rose Has a Chuckle
Being almost television addiction free
Even the Conventions I limited
To the speeches of Obama and McCain
There is the exception of the Charlie Rose show
Which steers much more than the movies I elect not to see.
It is the style of television that I hope will keep us free.
If vigilance for our freedom will yet be
It is the thing that makes us worthy of its keeping.
poem by Bill Grace
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Related quotes
We Can Create A Modern International Community
And I wonder when Congress will allow public nationwide schools...
in the United States to set aside time for children again to pray?
To pray for, or quietly reflect on behalf of, their once great Nation!
To pray for their nation during this proclaimed danger time...
of struggle against the forces of evil dark international terrorism!
But in the White House lurks a dark soul of 100% fetus murder!
Barack against murder international terrorism with Pro-Abortion Record!
Like Pharaoh in the time of the birth of Moses, like King Harold at the birth of Jesus, killing innocent children based on state law is ok in America today!
Why? How can this be? On 9th of March 2008 Barack proclaimed “We were once were, we are no longer a Christian nation, at least not just....”
No Ten Commandments, No God’s law displayed in government buildings!
15th April 2009 Barack proclaimed “We can create a modern international community that is respectful that is secure that is prosperous....
(in an aside to himself) and like Baal Worshippers we will support propagate
State Policies funding killing innocent children against the will of the majority of Americans and I Barack will use tax payer dollars to kill innocent unborn! We will fill White House high office with Pro Abortion all! Yes We Can!
Darth Vader will create a universal New World Order!
And in the on going baby killing sweepstakes infant killer Obama selects: -
Pro-Abortion Sen. Joe Biden as Obama’s vice-presidential running mate. Pro-Abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as Obama’s White House Chief of Staff.
Pro-Abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as Obama’s Health and Human Services Secretary.
Former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of Obama’s Department of Justice Review Team. Next appointed Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel.
Betta check Obama’s rap sheet Pro-Abortion Record, for the rest of his all star elite baby killing machine selections.
'President Barack Obama's Pro-Abortion Record: A Pro-Life Compilation
Washington, DC (LifeNews.com) - The following is a compilation of bill signings, speeches, appointments and other actions that President Barack Obama has engaged in that have promoted abortion before and during his presidency. While Obama has promised to reduce abortions and some of his supporters believe that will happen, this long list proves his only agenda is promoting more abortions.
During the presidential election, Obama selected pro-abortion Sen. Joe Biden as his vice-presidential running mate.
Post-Election / Pre-Inauguration
November 5,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as his White House Chief of Staff. Emanuel has a 0% pro-life voting record according to National Right to Life.
November 19,2008 - Obama picks pro-abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as his Health and Human Services Secretary. Daschle has a long pro-abortion voting record according to National Right to Life.
November 20,2008 - Obama chooses former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of his Department of Justice Review Team. Later, he finalizes her appointment as the Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel in the Obama administration.
November 24,2008 - Obama appoints Ellen Moran, the former director of the pro-abortion group Emily's List as his White House communications director. Emily's List only supports candidates who favored taxpayer funded abortions and opposed a partial-birth abortion ban.
November 24,2008 - Obama puts former Emily's List board member Melody Barnes in place as his director of the Domestic Policy Council.
November 30,2008 - Obama named pro-abortion Sen. Hillary Clinton as the Secretary of State. Clinton has an unblemished pro-abortion voting record and has supported making unlimited abortions an international right.
December 10,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion former Clinton administration official Jeanne Lambrew to become the deputy director of the White House Office of Health Reform. Planned Parenthood is 'excited' about the selection.
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Style
(style) style, uh!
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Style, dig it
(style) style, come on
Uh, style
Style is not something that comes in a bottle
Style is more like jackie o. when she was doin aristotle
Style is not a logo that sticks 2 the roof of ones ass
Style is like a second cousin 2 class
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, say what?
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, check it
Style aint sittin court side with the owner of the team
Style is owning the court and charging em all a fee
Style is not lusting after someone because theyre cool
Style is loving yourself til everyone else does 2
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, well well
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style dont get drunk on a saturday night
Try 2 dress up every sunday mornin bright
Style dont get married then break the vow in a year
Style is keepin a promise
Raise your hand yall if u hear me
(style) {x2}
Style is not biting style when u cant find the funk
Style is the face u make on a michael jordon dunk
Style aint the jeep u bought when u know your broke ass got bills
Style is lettin your lover drive while u talk on the phone and chill
U got it! - style
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style is a gold-tooth smile with an attitude
Style is a peaceful wild postin the rude
Style is growing your own food
Style is a non-violent march
Style is an accurate account of whats inside every heart (style)
Style is not a lie
Style is a man that cries
Style is the glow in a pregnant womans eyes
(style) {x4}
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, do that, do that
U got it! - style, got it?
U got it! - style, mad, come on
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Barack Obama
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Change, you must the world;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
But do you have the gold?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
People need more jobs;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
You must stop their sobs.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Wars are just futile;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Let peace remain awhile.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Prices must be cut;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
None can live in hut.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Energy is prime;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Work in any clime.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Pollution must stop;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Make a friendlier cop.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Should the unborn die?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Live, they shouldn’t but why?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Change is what you need;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Pluck away the weed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-18-2009
poem by John Celes
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Universal Freedom Is......
Freedom from hunger and freedom from pain
freedom from loss and so freedom from gain.
Freedom to give and freedom to share
freedom from want and that of despair.
Freedom to think and freedom to know
freedom to achieve and freedom to grow.
Freedom from bondage and freedom of liberation
freedom from ignorance and any unknown situation.
Freedom to come and freedom to leave
freedom to stay and freedom to conceive.
Freedom from struggle and freedom of ease
freedom to enjoy and the capacity to please.
Freedom from failure and freedom of success
freedom from denial and freedom of access.
Freedom from illusion and freedom of reality
freedom to become what we are in actuality.
Freedom to live and freedom to die
freedom to laugh and freedom to cry.
Freedom to speak and freedom to listen
freedom to act based on a wise decision.
Freedom from hate and freedom of love
freedom of below and freedom of above.
Freedom of the past and freedom of the present
freedom of the future and what it can represent.
Freedom from war and freedom of peace
freedom to begin and freedom to cease.
Freedom from sickness and freedom of health
freedom from poverty and mishandled wealth.
Freedom from wrong and freedom being right
freedom of the day and freedom of the night.
Freedom to choose and freedom to reject
freedom to imagine what there is to expect.
Freedom from lust and freedom from greed
freedom from anger and freedom from breed.
Freedom from jealousy and freedom from pride
freedom from within and freedom from outside.
Freedom of always not having anything to hide.
Freedom from space and also freedom from time
freedom from attachment and freedom from crime
Freedom to work and freedom to play
freedom to believe and freedom to pray.
[...] Read more
poem by George Krokos
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Charlie Mack
Artist: dj jazzy jeff and the fresh prince
[fresh prince]
Everywhere we go, downtown or to a show
We have two necessities, charlie mack and our limo
He's feared by suckers yet he's loved by kids
Pay attention and let me tell you who charlie mack
He is our homeboy from around the block
He's regarded through the city as the hip-hop cop
Height about 6'6", weight about 290
Everywhere i go, charlie mack is right behind me
He never laughs, never smiles nor sweats
He doesn't breaks arms or legs, only spines or necks
He once killed a man cause he would not let go of his eggo
Apollo creed is a sucker, charlie mack could beat drago
He could bench about three-hundred pounds
The cops all take a vacation, when charlie's in town
He's the toughest around, so everywhere that i go, he goes
He's charlie mack and he's the first out the limo
[fresh prince]
I guess you're wonderin why he's the first out
The limo, yo, let me give you this bit of info
So you'll know the things that charlie can do
And you'll know every single reason why he's down with the crew
The limo picks up about a half past six
With the radio blastin our latest hit
It's me, jeff, ready rock, omar and j.l.
Charlie mack is up front as we depart the hotel
First we cause chaos throughout the city streets
Then maybe stop at burger king for a bite to eat
And if somebody gets stupid while we're in the place
Charlie cancels his order and bites off their face
He's not a troublemaker, in fact, he's a troublebreaker
And if somebody gets dumb, well it'll only take a
Second or two, after some fools snaps
Law and order is restored by my hero charlie mack
Wheel off into the limo, and head for the jam
Charlie cracks all the knuckles, on both of his hands
And when we pull up to the show, the routine is unrehearsed
It's just natural that we let charlie hop our first
He clears the crowd without sayin a word
Man, that's the loudest silence i've ever heard
A lot of times guys test him, by tryin to bug
He just, leaves ring imprints, all over their mugs
He's a terminator, a hercules of sorts
Man to hell with chess, he likes physical sports
You may not have known before but now you know
The reason why charlie mack is the first out the limo
[fresh prince]
We'd like to apologize to all of our fans
But please don't touch us when we're at our jams
[...] Read more
song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Show Me Love
(spoken) Hello
This was an accident
Not the kind where sorrow sounds
Never even noticed
We're suddenly crumbling
Tell me how you've never felt
Delicate or innocent
Do you still have doubts that
Us having faith makes any sense
Tell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses 'cause
There's no way to turn around
Staring at your photograph
Everything now in the past
Never felt so lonely
I wish that you could show me love
Shov me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til you open that door
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til I'm up off the floor
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til it's inside my pores
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til I'm screaming for more
Random acts of mindlessness
Commonplace occurences
Chances and surprises
Another state of consciousness
Tell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses 'cause
There's no way to turn around
Tell me how you've never felt
[...] Read more
song performed by Tatu
Added by Lucian Velea
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With Rose In Hand
Prayer is worth more than a rose
in my hand where love grows
for God and all he knows
The rose has a thorn
which Jesus felt on the crown he had worn.
the rose is red as the blood from his head
when he was crucifed before we were born.
[...] Read more
poem by Meg Harrison
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Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
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On the Innate Drive For What is Right
As life bled, martyrdom flared its buds.
Repression, red from irritation,
Rendered chinks and cracks; but thuds of
Armament - in cowardice - accomplice of the
Dictatorial blight thro' countless years -
Wreaked its retribution:
Yet hope began to bloom a coloured carapace
Enshrining their allegiance ‘gainst the
Terror in their tears.
And on! Splits yawned - breaches in the junta:
Flesh fought fanatical minds -
Bullets welcomed into open hands
And blessed with yearnings for morality:
Chiselled man-toys of death and mutilation
Couldn't repel the might of freedom
Surging at the bright horizon.
Crepuscular rays of purpose, body,
Flooded pandemonium with
Overwhelming clarity, direction -
Burdened clouds drifting wayward as the
Light channelled out a vision,
Intensifying focus on tomorrow -
Deepen their stride
As they home in to
What is theirs,
Rightfully theirs!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Were There Hope
I was never in a league of noble gentlemen
To whom she'd cast polite and flitting smiles,
Only distant hope and dying dreams for me!
Or perhaps descent into a game of wiles
To give a chance of sipping wine on heady nights
With her angelic presence to declare;
Above, an aura playing out hypnotic hues,
And I in awe of blonde cascades of hair.
But no! my tiring soul is sinking in a mire
To haunt me for an age and evermore, for
How could I expect to hold her silken hand
When I am but a soulless ghost of yore?
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope, hope?
Hope?
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mr. Darcy
Is Obama Mr. Darcy,
fighting prejudice with pride,
or is it simply that he’s classy,
superior, and rarely snide?
Until with Hillary he dances
as Darcy would not with Miss Bennet
he’ll not succeed Bill with romances
in the White House, and the Senate
will be the only place where he
can demonstrate, while laughing at
himself, that he’s not truly lost in
a world where every Democrat
must be more feminist than Austen.
Though pride’s abominable, it
is far less reprehensible
than sensibility sans wit
in women who aren’t sensible.
Inspired by Maureen Dowd’s Op-Ed article in the NYT on August 3,2008 (“Mr. Darcy Comes Courting”:
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Barack Obama must continue to grovel to Hillary Clinton’s dead-enders, some of whom mutter darkly that they will not only not vote for him, they will never vote for a man again. Obama met for an hour Tuesday with three dozen top Hillaryites at a hotel here, seeking their endorsement and beguiling their begrudging. He opened the session by saying that he knew there had been frustration about what they saw as sexism during the primary. The Los Angeles Times reported that Hillary die-hards want to enshrine a whine in the Democratic platform about how the primaries “exposed pervasive gender bias in the media” and call on party leaders to take “immediate and public steps” to denounce any perceived bias in the future. That is one nutty idea. Perhaps it is because feminists are still so busy cataloging past slights to Hillary that they have failed to mount a vivid defense of Michelle Obama, who has taken over from Hillary as the one conservatives like to paint as a harridan….
The odd thing is that Obama bears a distinct resemblance to the most cherished hero in chick-lit history. The senator is a modern incarnation of the clever, haughty, reserved and fastidious Mr. Darcy. Like the leading man of Jane Austen and Bridget Jones, Obama can, as Austen wrote, draw “the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien....he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased.” The master of Pemberley “had yet to learn to be laught at, ” and this sometimes caused “a deeper shade of hauteur” to “overspread his features.” The New Hampshire debate incident in which Obama condescendingly said, “You’re likable enough, Hillary, ” was reminiscent of that early scene in “Pride and Prejudice” when Darcy coldly refuses to dance with Elizabeth Bennet, noting, “She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me.” Indeed, when Obama left a prayer to the Lord at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, a note that was snatched out and published, part of his plea was to “help me guard against pride.” If Obama is Mr. Darcy, with “his pride, his abominable pride, ” then America is Elizabeth Bennet, spirited, playful, democratic, financially strained, and caught up in certain prejudices. (McCain must be cast as Wickham, the rival for Elizabeth’s affections, the engaging military scamp who casts false aspersions on Darcy’s character.) In this political version of “Pride and Prejudice, ” the prejudice is racial, with only 31 percent of white voters telling The New York Times in a survey that they had a favorable opinion of Obama, compared with 83 percent of blacks. And the prejudice is visceral: many Americans, especially blue collar, still feel uneasy about the Senate’s exotic shooting star, and he is surrounded by a miasma of ill-founded and mistaken premises. So the novelistic tension of the 2008 race is this: Can Obama overcome his pride and Hyde Park hauteur and win America over? Can America overcome its prejudice to elect the first black president? And can it move past its biases to figure out if Obama’s supposed conceit is really just the protective shield and defense mechanism of someone who grew up half white and half black, a perpetual outsider whose father deserted him and whose mother, while loving, sometimes did so as well? Can Miss Bennet teach Mr. Darcy to let down his guard, be more sportive, and laugh at himself?
8/3/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks
1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,
That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass
Under the old trees with rosy fruit.
In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a
basket,
The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.
Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.
Fayne snatched for it and missed;
Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small
Finely cut features in a dance of delight;
Fayne with one sweep flung at his face
All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Dancing With Charlie
Charlie was a loser till that sunny day
No-one saw him leaving as he sailed away
Treated like a sinner, no-one gave a damn
Till charlie threw two sixes
Now hes got them in his hand
Now theyre waiting in line to go dancing with charlie
They wanna be seen dancing with charlie
No-one seems to know how
No-one seems to care
Doesnt really matter just as long as you are there
Party in the moonlight, free drinks at the bar
You can bet whats in your pocket that charlie wont be far
Now theyre waiting in line to go dancing with charlie
They wanna be seen dancing with charlie
Charlie bought a jet plane, charlie rides the sky
Friends appear from nowhere, charlie gets them high
Big d was a gambler with everything to lose
Charlie didnt have anything
So he didnt have to choose
And theyre waiting in line to go dancing with charlie
They wanna be seen dancing with charlie
And theyre standing in line to go dancing with charlie
They wanna be seen dancing with charlie
song performed by Chris Rea
Added by Lucian Velea
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Extension 33
Living at the y, extension 33,
Nothing to care or to worry.
Once I was in love with a blind man,
But my auntie told me, dont do it, its not worth it.
Living at the y, 33 years,
No one to call or to write to.
Once I was in love with a married man,
But my instincts told me, dont tell him, itll kill you.
Im sad I didnt marry the blind man,
But whats a life with three blind children?
Im glad I never told the married man,
It saved my pride and freedom.
Living at the y, in 33 rooms,
Nowhere to visit or write to.
Once I was in love, it nearly killed me,
But now I have my pride and freedom.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom.
song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Obama or McCain
Why should I care who is the next U S President Obama or McCain
Since from who wins or loses I won't stand to gain
I do live far distant of the U S of A
Many thousands of miles that does seem far away.
'Tis all about success and ego and about self esteem
And 'tis all about power little else it does seem
But the poor of the U S as poor will remain
And it should not matter to them who wins Obama or McCain.
This is all about money and all about power
Though many never know of a good meal or of a warm shower
So many live rough on the poor side of town
Whilst McCain and Obama compete for renown.
In the refugee camps of the World millions of refugees
Who live hungry where there is squalor and disease
McCain or Obama will not help them in any way
Do you think this is not a fair thing to say?
The rewards of the power and the glory the winners will reap
And to the U S Presidental Election I will not lose any sleep
Whether 'tis Obama or McCain why should I much care
Since they are both power hungry people and their type not
rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Rose Mary
Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone
Lost the first, but the second won.
PART I
“MARY mine that art Mary's Rose
Come in to me from the garden-close.
The sun sinks fast with the rising dew,
And we marked not how the faint moon grew;
But the hidden stars are calling you.
“Tall Rose Mary, come to my side,
And read the stars if you'd be a bride.
In hours whose need was not your own,
While you were a young maid yet ungrown
You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.
“Daughter, once more I bid you read;
But now let it be for your own need:
Because to-morrow, at break of day,
To Holy Cross he rides on his way,
Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.
“Ere he wed you, flower of mine,
For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine.
Now hark to my words and do not fear;
Ill news next I have for your ear;
But be you strong, and our help is here.
“On his road, as the rumour's rife,
An ambush waits to take his life.
He needs will go, and will go alone;
Where the peril lurks may not be known;
But in this glass all things are shown.”
Pale Rose Mary sank to the floor:—
“The night will come if the day is o'er!”
“Nay, heaven takes counsel, star with star,
And help shall reach your heart from afar:
A bride you'll be, as a maid you are.”
The lady unbound her jewelled zone
And drew from her robe the Beryl-stone.
Shaped it was to a shadowy sphere,—
World of our world, the sun's compeer,
That bears and buries the toiling year.
With shuddering light 'twas stirred and strewn
Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon:
Freaked it was as the bubble's ball,
Rainbow-hued through a misty pall
Like the middle light of the waterfall.
Shadows dwelt in its teeming girth
Of the known and unknown things of earth;
The cloud above and the wave around,—
The central fire at the sphere's heart bound,
Like doomsday prisoned underground.
[...] Read more
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Added by Poetry Lover
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Style (Pablo)
Now here comes a musical shack attack
Really on truly design to make you rock
Whether you white or black
In a pants or frock
Round a front or back
Down an bottom or on top
Is Pablo Ranks round the microphone a chat
On the musical shack attack seen (Dreadlocks)
Here them style ya now star
Ca me say if a don't Patton then a style
A me say is a don't Patton them a style (Smile)
A mi say if a don't patton them a style (Wicked on wile)
Say if a don't Patton them a style
Mi young a say strong Jah know mi well virile
True mi eant everything them a say that spwile
Man mi run way left mi yard them a say that mi wile
Say mi lock the education but mi versatile, true mi
Sell the callie weel on them mi collect the kile
Babylon want fi hold mi it is just for a while
Say mi break out a jail a man use a file
Say mi head in a the mountain - under low profile
Mi say if a don't Patton them a style (right)
A me say if a don't Patton them a style (Flashitta)
Ca me say if a don't Patton then a style (Bubble)
A mi say if a don't Patton then a style
But a true say Pablo cool Pablo wasn't hostile
Mi rub down fi mi skin yes in a coconut oil
Me rap ip fi mi weed in a bacofile
Mi chat the rub a dub fi make the girls them smile
The blood in a them body (man) me want it fi boil
With swet a run them back like a engine oil
With the lyrics them a fire like any missile
Pablo Ranks around the mic as your disciplin child
Well mi fire fi mi lyrics for a million mile
All the girls them in the dance say him dea under profile
Ca me say if a don't Patton them a style
A me say if a don't Patton them astyle (wicked and wile)
Say if a don't Patton then a style (Gwan)
Ca me say if a don't them a style
You know say Pablo Ranks him a you cullicked yard child
A tell you that Patton that a Patton
Me say style a style
But a snake on a lizard on a crocodile
But a them dea creature me say call reptile
But anywhere you go, you know those a pure style
But a Pablo Rankin dea ya cause him wicked and wile
Come fi run down the rubadub in a yard style
Make the girls them in the dance hall feel fi smile
Make the blood in a them body (just) starte fi boil
Make the swet a run them back like a engine oil
[...] Read more
song performed by Ub40
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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Third Book
'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.
For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!
Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.
Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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