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Cocaine

Were walking in the rain
Sniffing some cocaine
Hoodies over our faces
Trying to solve other druggies cases
With the cocaine we make ourselves scum rich
And murder people who then be found in a ditch
As we drank down the champane
We met little wayne
He said he was insane
It started to rain
A crazy copper came
Took the cocaine
Hizar and MC Zain went down Barden Lane
Spinning their silver chains
doing what we wanna do
no one telling us what to do
Thats who we are
Accept it
Embrace it
Leave it alone
For this we are proud to be known

Written by Hizar Khan 10 years old

poem by Sumiya Khan
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Insane

Somebody told me it was over
Nobody told me where it began
No one believes in you
I understand
Like a blind man
Whos lost his way
No one hears a word
Of what you say
I forgive you
Would you do the same
I would believe you
If only youd be true
I would believe if it were true
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same for me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane insane insane insane
I dont know where youve been looking
I think its only in your mind
Its tied so tight inside of you
All the thoughts unkind
I would believe you
If only youd be true
I would believe if it were true
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same for me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane insane insane
Insane
I would believe you
If only youd be true
Im getting older
And I cant escape time
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same for me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same or me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane insane insane insane
Insane

song performed by Texas
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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Knife

Slit and
Slither knife
Penetrate in phallic push
To perforate the pulse of tissues in the flesh
Slice a vein to drain the unsuspecting victim
E’er they bleed and plea
Their scream
Of death

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Premeditation

Oh blade you'll warm tonight!
Awash in crimson-purple flows,
Your sheen will dull with aching flesh:
Palpating anatomic mounds
Caressing, dancing, writhing round
Your metal form-
Whetted ‘gainst a lonely bone,
Then to probe the pounding, begging heart.

And all the while the prey will howl
Before they crumple; greet the mud-
A taut and unbelieving jowl
Will open out for giving blood-
A vent from down below,
Once a brutal show
Of metal in the man.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Forsaking All Others Part 1

'NOT that you'll like him,' Nell said,
'No mystery - no romance,
A fine, stern, eagle-like head,
But he simply reeks of finance, -­
Started from nothing - self-made -­
And rather likes you to know it,
And now collects porcelain and jade,
Or some Seventeenth Century poet.

'Married in simpler days,
A poor little wren of a being,
Who exists to pray and praise,
And spends her life agreeing,
Thin and dowdy and pale,
And getting paler and thinner­
Well, the point of this dreary tale
Is I've asked them both to dinner.

'I'd leave her out like a shot,
For I'm not so keen about her,
But, my dear, believe it or not,
He won't dine out without her.
She has that terrible hold
That aging wives exert to
Replace young charms grown old­
Poor health and impeccable virtue.

'Lightly I asked them to dine,
And now I perceive the dangers,
My friends-yours and mine­
Are so terribly rude to strangers.
But you, dear girl, I can trust
To come and be brilliant and tender;
Vamp the man, if you must,
But give an impression of splendor.'

II

LEE sat before her mirror... rouged her lips,
Set dripping diamond earrings in her ears,
Polished a little at her finger tips,
Thought that she did not look her thirty years;

Thought, 'Poor dear Nellie's ill-assorted feasts!
I want to be as helpful as I can
Among that group of men and gods and beasts...
Why does she think I shall not like this man?

She made him sound entrancing... strong and crude,
Successful, dominant...I, who for so long

[...] Read more

poem by Alice Duer Miller
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The Brus Book X

[Preparations for battle against John of Lorn]
Quhen Thomas Randell on this wis
Wes takyn as Ik her devys
And send to dwell in gud keping
For spek that he spak to the king,
The gud king that thocht on the scaith
The dispyt and felny bath
That Jhone off Lorne had till him doyn
His ost assemblyt he then sone
And towart Lorn he tuk the way
With his men intill gud aray.
Bot Jhone off Lorn off his cummyng
Lang or he come had wittering,
And men on ilk sid gadryt he
I trow twa thousand thai mycht be
And send thaim for to stop the way
Quhar the gud king behovyt away,
And that wes in an evill plas
That sa strayt and sa narow was
That twasum samyn mycht nocht rid
In sum place off the hillis sid.
The nethyr halff was peralous
For schor crag hey and hydwous
Raucht to the se doun fra the pas,
On athyr halff the montane was
Sua combrous hey and stay
That it was hard to pas that way.
I trow nocht that in all Bretane
Ane heyar hill may fundyn be.
Thar Jhone off Lorne gert his menye
Enbuschyt be abovyn the way,
For giff the king held thar away
He thocht he suld sone vencussyt be,
And himselff held him apon the se
Weill ner the pais with his galayis.
Bot the king that in all assayis
Wes fundyn wys and avisé
Persavyt rycht weill thar sutelte,
And that he neid that gait suld ga.
His men departyt he in twa
And till the gud lord off Douglas
Quham in herbryd all worschip was
He taucht the archerys everilkane
And this gud lord with him has tane
Schyr Alysander Fraser the wycht,
And Wylyam Wysman a gud knycht
And with thaim syne Schyr Androw Gray.
Thir with thar mengne held thar way
And clamb the hill deliverly
And or thai off the tother party

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
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... Mmmmmm Skyscraper I Love You

Thirty thousand feet above
Beautiful thing
Beautiful thing
Mmm skyscraper I love you
Thirty thousand feet above the earth...its a beautiful thing
Youre a beautiful thing
Thirty thousand feet above the earth...its a beautiful thing
Everybodys a beautiful thing
Mmm skyscraper I love you
Mmm skyscraper I love you
And I see elvis
Elvis
I see porn dogs sniffing the wind
Sniffing the wind for something new
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent they can do
Porn dogs sniffing the wind
Sniffing the wind for something new
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent for me and you
Will you be my big plaything
My total big disorientator
Will you be my big plaything
My ninja power
My number cruncher
Yes yes yes no yes yes
Yes yes yes yes no no
And I see elvis
And I hear God on the phone
Mmm skyscraper I love you
I see porn dogs sniffing the wind
Sniffing the wind for something new
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent that they could do
Porn dogs sniffing the wind
Sniffing the wind for something new
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent for me and you
The city is a whore tonight
And I see God talking
Elvis
God talking
Pornfest pork fat jesus christ night light
Elvis fresh meat and a little whipped cream
Pornfast cornfat jesus christ night ride
Elvis fresh meat and a little whipped cream
Thirty thousand feet above the earth
Thirty thousand feet above the earth
Beautiful thing
Youre a beautiful thing
Thirty thousand feet above
The beautiful earth
Mmm skyscraper I love you
Like I feel you

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mmm Skyscraper I Love You

Thirty thousand feet above the earth.
Youre a beautiful thing. mmm skyscraper I love you.
Thirty thousand feet above the earth.
Its a beautiful thing. and youre a beautiful thing.
Thirty thousand feet above the earth.
Its a beautiful thing. everybodys a beautiful thing.
And I see elvis. elvis. I see
Porn dogs sniffing the wind. sniffing the wind for something new.
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent they can do.
Porn dogs sniffing the wind. sniffing the wind for something new.
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent for me and you.
Will you be my big plaything. my total big disorientator.
Will you be my big plaything. my ninja power. my number cruncher.
Yes. yes. yes. no. yes. yes.
And I see elvis. and I hear God on the phone. I see
Porn dogs sniffing the wind. sniffing the wind for something new.
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent that they could do.
Porn dogs sniffing the wind. sniffing the wind for something new.
Porn dogs sniffing the wind for something violent for me and you.
The city is a whore tonight. and I see God talking
Elvis. God talking.
Pornfest pork fat jesus christ night light.
Elvis fresh meat and a little whipped cream.
Pornfast cornfat jesus christ night ride.
Elvis fresh meat and a little whipped cream.
Thirty thousand feet above the earth.
Thirty thousand feet above the earth.
Beautiful thing. youre a beautiful thing.
Thirty thousand feet above the beautiful earth.
Like I feel you.

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Maybe I'm crazy

I am not Emo
I’m not a Goth
I’m perfectly normal
But I know what it feels to be lost
Stuck in the crowd
Can’t hear a sound
Feels like I’m pushed back in the distance
Can’t come out
Do people see?
Do they believe?
Or am I just crazy from being lonely?

The words burst from my lips as I scream
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
Am I forgotten? Am I just crazy?
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
Somebody hear me
Somebody save me

I check my phone, nobody calls
I can’t help, but feeling so forgot
I put on a show, nobody knows
Where did all the people I used to love, go?
I see a face, forgot its name
But they don’t seem to recognize me, anyway
All of my friends are with somebody else
And now I’m sitting here all by myself
(All by myself)

The words burst from my lips as I scream
(From my lips, as I scream)
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
(But the people, don’t hear a thing)
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
(Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?)
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
(Acting like, don’t know about me)
Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?
(Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?)
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
(Am I just lost, maybe I’m lonely)
Somebody hear me
(Somebody near me)
Somebody save me
(Somebody save me)
Or am I just crazy?
Or am I just crazy?

[...] Read more

poem by Sugar Bear
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I Am Your Doctor (feat. Wayne Wonder & Elephant Man)

Intro & Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Yeah yeah yeah) heres the prescription (Girl!!!)
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Yo Wayne Wonder, you ready to talk to the girls, lets go)
Verse 1: Wayne Wonder (Wyclef Jean)
I will be knockin by the time me come a four
Here comes the doctor baby worry no more
I will bring the remedy baby I will bring the cure
Give you what you want and absolutely I am sure
Take my hand Ill be your man
Let me take you to the sunshine island
I will be your therapy, let it be
You know you need my healing (Wait a minute!!!)
Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Yeah yeah yeah) heres the prescription (Yeah yeah yeah)
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Gimme some love, gimme some love)
And if your back is hurtin, turn around girl
See, Im your chiropractor (Wayne Wonder: La da dow da dow!!!)
Please!!! Lay on this sofa (Wayne Wonder: Oh na na na now!!!)
And let me message your back (Wayne Wonder: Your back)
So I can feel whats wrong (Girl whats wrong, girl whats wrong, girl whats wrong)
(Yo Wayne, talk to the girls man)
Verse 2: Wayne Wonder (Wyclef Jean)
If you got a problem and you wanna get it fixed
Send for the doctor with the medicine for your chest
Fill your prescription with the right mix
My kiss and I will say what kind of miracle is this
Take my hand Ill be your man
Let me take you to the sunshine island
I will be your therapy, let it be
You know you need my healing (Let me talk to them now)
Verse 3: Wyclef Jean
When you make it to the emergency room (Yeah)
Tell the nurse I said that she dont need no, coverage no, no no no
(Wayne Wonder: Oh na na na now)
Cause I been waitin to operate on you all night
So lay back, relax, feel my hands right through your hair
Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Oh yeah yeah) heres the prescription
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Wait a minute Elephant Man, talk to di gal dem)
Verse 4: Elephant Man (Wyclef Jean)
Dem call mi Dr. Love, ready fi di surgery gimme di gloves
Mouth to mouth respiration a weh she love
You mi thermometer test har and she hundred above
Give har di lovin and she melt like a fudge
Mi have di PHD, mi qualify mi have mi degree
Fi give she di remedy from a di therapy
Nuh waan see nuh night nurse so she come a mi

[...] Read more

song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder” (The Billion-Dollar Question)

We must all stay aware…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder….,
It’s been increasing for years….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !

Can’t dare turn our backs….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
It’ll sneak up and kill us…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !

It’s hard to believe and conceive….
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
That’s why so many are blind….,
To the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !

We’ve seen the bloody attacks…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
So we must face the facts….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !

Yes they’re after us all…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
Their radical religion condones it….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !

Can we control it or stop it….,
So it won’t go any further….? ? ?
That’s the billion-dollar question….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !

poem by Trade Martin
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Power Junkie

Im out of control
I think Im goin crazy
Im out of my mind
You can see it in my eyes
Im lookin for love
In all of your faces
Im lookin for love
I think Im goin crazy
I feel tonight
Were bought and sold
Ah yeah
Think Ill overload
Think Ill overload
Im talkin about crazy
Im talkin about crazy
Im a mad man
I shook up the world
Im a crazy man
Aint that right
This ball of confusion
Too big for the both of us
Get out of my town tonight
Im a mad man
I wanna shake up the world
Im a crazy man
Im goin crazy
Im goin crazy
Suck on my love meat
Now suck on my steed
I gotta go crazy
If you know what I mean
Im goin crazy
Im goin crazy
Im a mad man
Crazy
Im looking for you
Through all of these faces
Waiting so long
I think Im going crazy
Im lookin at you
Feel my direction
A yeah
No reason to survive
Yeah Im talkin bout crazy
Ha ha ha think Im gonna blow
Im a mad man
I shook up the world
Im a crazy man
Aint that right
This ball of confusion

[...] Read more

song performed by Billy Idol
Added by Lucian Velea
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Forsaking All Others Part 3

I

THERE was an instant when he might have said
He could not see the lady; but instead
He nodded with a blank, impassive face,
And waited, never moving from his place
Beside the window, till a moment more
And she was there, leaning against the door
Which she had closed. She stood there, silent, staring,
Trembling with fear at her own act of daring,
But not with fear of him. Erect and slim,
White as the daytime moon, she spoke to him.

'I know,' she said, 'that it was not your plan
That we should ever meet: I know a man
Assumes despotic power, assumes his voice
In cases such as ours shall have the choice...

'But is that just, I ask... is that fair play
That you should have the right to throw away,
Crush and destroy and utterly deny
Our joint possession... or rather mine, for I
Value our friendship so much more than you
Appear to...' 'No,' he said, 'That is not true.'

She shook her head. 'Ah, if you thought it rare,
Precious and wonderful, you would not dare
Destroy it by yourself... not even you.'

He answered: 'I not only would. I do.
You speak of friendship. What a silly word,
And as dishonest as I ever heard.
Let us at least be candid, for God's sake,
And speak the truth... what difference does it make?
It is not friendship we are speaking of,
But the first moments of a passionate love....'

'You're wrong,' she cried, 'you're absolutely wrong.
Not everything emotional and strong
Between a man and woman needs must be
Physical love... People like you and me
Are wise enough and old enough to take
This fiery elemental thing and make
Something for every day, serene and cool...
I am not of the all-or-nothing school.'

He smiled. 'We light hell-fires, and you engage
They'll warm our palsied hands in our old age,'
At this she paused, and then she said:'Your tone
Wounds me. I live so terribly alone,

[...] Read more

poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Diggina Ditch

Unto your dreaming,
When youre alone,
Unplug the tv,
Turn off the phone.
Get heavy on with diggin your ditch.
Cause Im digging a ditch,
Where madness gives.
Digging a ditch,
Where silence lives.
Digging a ditch,
For when Im old.
Digging a ditch,
Where stories told.
Where all these troubles,
That weigh down on me will rise,
Unto your dreaming,
When youre alone.
Where all these worries,
That hold heavy on my heart,
Will die, will die, will die...
Unto your dreaming,
When youre alone.
Unplug the tv,
Turn off the phone.
Get heavy on with diggin your ditch.
Cause Im digging a ditch,
Where madness gives.
Digging a ditch,
Where silence lives in here.
Digging a ditch,
And when Im through digging this ditch,
Ill dig in for you.
Where all these disappointments,
That grow angry out of me will die.
Where all these habits,
That hold heavy on my heart will die.
Unto your dreaming, when youre alone,
Not what youre sure be or what youve become,
Just getting heavy on with digging your ditch.
Cause Im digging a ditch,
Where madness gives again.
Im digging a ditch,
Where silence lives.
Where all these troubles that weigh down on me,
Will rise, will rise, will rise, will rise...
Unto your dreaming, when youre alone,
Unplug the tv,
Turn off the phone.
Get heavy on with digging your ditch.

song performed by Dave Matthews Band
Added by Lucian Velea
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cocaine Blues

Everytime my baby and me go up town
police come and they knock me down
Cocaine all around my brain
Hey baby, better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Yonder comes by baby, she's dressed in red
She's got a shot-gun, says she's gonna kill me dead.
Cocaine all around my brain
Hey baby, better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Early one morning, half past four
cocaine came knockin' on my door.
Cocaine all around my brain
Hey baby, you better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Cocaine's for horses and it's not for men
Doctor said it kill you, but he don't say when.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Hey baby, you better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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February Rain

To be the mud, the bog, the mire;
To soak the bones in February –
Eons from the autumn shower–
Even from a summer berry!

Sparrows chirp a desperate call,
Darting questions at the cows –
Oblivious to the dousing squall, they
Churn the sludge with pastern ploughs.

The crying air was lost in rhythm:
Drums incessant in the drops;
Not a chance for rainbow prism –
Even if the hammering stops!

Metallic chills entrap machines –
Tractors hushed within the shed.
Inside the house, a full cuisine
To bless with mead – and little said!

But out across the tiring field,
A sodden fox is hunting down
His prey of sorts – but nil of yield;
Perhaps he’ll starve; perhaps he’ll drown.

Still the clouds are hammering,
Hammering home their dreary aim –
A chatterbox in constant yammering,
Drenching all to make a claim.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Brogan's Lane

There's a crack in the city—down that sharp street
In couples, and armed, tramp rozzers on beat.
Like a joss, silhouetted across the pane,
A Chinese face watches down Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
A reeling moon blinks over Brogan’s Lane.

Flash Fred, when he dives on a red lot, sneaks thro’
To moscow the swag with a Polaky Jew.
Tho’ rooked by old Shylock, he needn’t complain,
The melting pot bubbles in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
Rats pinch from their cobbers down Brogan’s Lane.

And Jenny, fresh down from the country, goes gay
And drives to the races and laughs at the play;
Till one morn, lying out in the cold and the rain,
A body is perished in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
There’s only one turn to the long last lane.

With opium dens, sly cribs, bones and rags,
’Tis the haunt of thieves, wastrels, poor women and vags.
They booze to bring joy, they sin to numb pain,
But there’ll come a stretch at the end of the lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
The river and morgue shadow Brogan’s Lane.

poem by Louis Esson
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Dire Wolf

In the timbers to fennario, the wolves are running round,
The winter was so hard and cold, froze ten feet neath the ground.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
I sat down to my supper, twas a bottle of red whisky,
I said my prayers and went to bed, thats the last they saw of me.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
When I awoke, the dire wolf, six hundred pounds of sin,
Was grinning at my window, all I said was come on in.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
The wolf came in, I got my cards, we sat down for a game.
I cut my deck to the queen of spades, but the cards were all the same.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
In the backwash of fennario, the black and bloody mire,
The dire wolf collects his dues, while the boys sing round the fire.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
No, no, no dont murder me. I beg of you,
Dont murder me. please, dont murder me.

song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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