In My Room
Theres a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now its dark and Im alone
But I wont be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Lip Lock Rock
Alright
You look at me, the world in your eyes
You say like my style
Oh yeah
You keep hopin' till I make my move
You resist and give me that smile
Oh yeah
I just want a little kiss
But you keep on playin' those nasty little tricks
I'm longing of a - (...just another kiss)
I want a lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Whoa
You make a man so frustrated
You got my head buried in a hole
Oh no
Just tease me 'till I'm crazy
I'm runnin' out of control
I just want a little kiss
But you keep on playin' those nasty little tricks
I'm not gonna bite, I - (...just want a little kiss)
I want a lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Whoa
Lip lock
Lip lock
Lip lock
Lip lock
Lip lock
Rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Whoa
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Oh whoa
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Give it to me
Lip lock rock
[...] Read more
song performed by Alice In Chains
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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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
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Whistling In The Dark
A woman came up to me and said
Id like to poison your mind
With wrong ideas that appeal to you
Though I am not unkind
She looked at me, I looked at something
Written across her scalp
And these are the words that it faintly said
As I tried to call for help:
Theres only one thing that I know how to do well
And Ive often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And thats be you,
Be what youre like,
Be like yourself,
And so Im having a wonderful time
But Id rather be whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Theres only one thing that I like
And that is whistling in the dark
A man came up to me and said
Id like to change your mind
By hitting it with a rock, he said,
Though I am not unkind.
We laughed at his little joke
And then I happily walked away
And hit my head on the wall of the jail
Where the two of us live today.
Theres only one thing that I know how to do well
And Ive often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And thats be you,
Be what youre like,
Be like yourself,
And so Im having a wonderful time
But Id rather be whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Theres only one thing that I like
And that is whistling in the dark
Theres only one thing that I know how to do well
And Ive often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And thats be you,
[...] Read more
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Came From Outer Space
(lowe/tennant)
-----------------
Hi -i- (hello)
Hello? my name is -
- very complicated with the -
With the police?
Yes, all
Were, were just here
What is this? what is that?
- complication high of it -
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
We came from outer space to
To our parents parents, ... parents
Parents?
Hi -i- (hello)
Hello? my name is -
- very complicated with the -
Do you know the difference between the two genders?
Yes, all
What is this? what is that? no.
We came from outer space to
Somebody from california said something about men and women
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
Do you know anything about what -
We came from outer space to
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) I love you
Weve been having some problems with the communication now and then
Do you know the difference between the two genders?
- black rain -
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
Do you know the difference between the two genders?
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
We came from outer space to
Somethings not right, I cant work it out
Do you know the difference between the two genders? no.
We came from outer space to
Hi -i- (hello)
Hello? my name is -
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry)
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
(laugh, cry) dont leave me
[...] Read more
song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Baby, Stop Crying
You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe,
But youre back where you belong.
Go get me my pistol, babe,
Honey, I cant tell right from wrong.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
Go down to the river, babe,
Honey, I will meet you there.
Go down to the river, babe,
Honey, I will pay your fare.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
If youre looking for assistance, babe,
Or if you just want some company
Or if you just want a friend you can talk to,
Honey, come and see about me.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
You been hurt so many times
And I know what youre thinking of.
Well, I dont have to be no doctor, babe,
To see that youre madly in love.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
song performed by Bob Dylan
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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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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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Rape of the Lock
Part 1
WHAT dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs,
What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things,
I sing -- This Verse to C---, Muse! is due;
This, ev'n Belinda may vouchfafe to view:
Slight is the Subject, but not so the Praise,
If She inspire, and He approve my Lays.
Say what strange Motive, Goddess! cou'd compel
A well-bred Lord t'assault a gentle Belle?
Oh say what stranger Cause, yet unexplor'd,
Cou'd make a gentle Belle reject a Lord?
And dwells such Rage in softest Bosoms then?
And lodge such daring Souls in Little Men?
Sol thro' white Curtains shot a tim'rous Ray,
And op'd those Eyes that must eclipse the Day;
Now Lapdogs give themselves the rowzing Shake,
And sleepless Lovers, just at Twelve, awake:
Thrice rung the Bell, the Slipper knock'd the Ground,
And the press'd Watch return'd a silver Sound.
Belinda still her downy Pillow prest,
Her Guardian Sylph prolong'd the balmy Rest.
'Twas he had summon'd to her silent Bed
The Morning-Dream that hover'd o'er her Head.
A Youth more glitt'ring than a Birth-night Beau,
(That ev'n in Slumber caus'd her Cheek to glow)
Seem'd to her Ear his winning Lips to lay,
And thus in Whispers said, or seem'd to say.
Fairest of Mortals, thou distinguish'd Care
Of thousand bright Inhabitants of Air!
If e'er one Vision touch'd thy infant Thought,
Of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught,
Of airy Elves by Moonlight Shadows seen,
The silver Token, and the circled Green,
Or Virgins visited by Angel-Pow'rs,
With Golden Crowns and Wreaths of heav'nly Flowers,
Hear and believe! thy own Importance know,
Nor bound thy narrow Views to Things below.
Some secret Truths from Learned Pride conceal'd,
To Maids alone and Children are reveal'd:
What tho' no Credit doubting Wits may give?
The Fair and Innocent shall still believe.
Know then, unnumbered Spirits round thee fly,
The light Militia of the lower Sky;
These, tho' unseen, are ever on the Wing,
Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring.
Think what an Equipage thou hast in Air,
And view with scorn Two Pages and a Chair.
[...] Read more
poem by Alexander Pope
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Lady Lynda
Lady lady lady lady
Wont you come here and lie lady lynda with me
We can lie in the green canyon meadows
And well hear the birds sing in the spring
Dont you know if you;ll stay lady lynda with me
We can talk about love everafter
When you lie lady lynda with me
Lynda, wont you say that we can be near
Cannot deny thereve been hard times
Darlin, evolution is drawing us near
Look in my eyes whoa
Lynda, wont you say that I am your man
Your lips are dry (? ) its all in his past
But darlin, evolution is drawing us near
Lie lady lie
Oooh lady wont you lie lady
Now wont you stay lady lynda with me
We can talk about love everafter
When you lie lady lynda with me
Ohh lady wont you lie lady
Wont you ooh lady wont you stay lady with me
When you lie lady lynda
Come along with me
Ohh lady wont you lie lady
Wont you lie with me
Darlin you know you make my heart sing
Wont you come along and sing a song
Sing the sound of love
Ohh lady wont you lie lady
Wont you lie with me
Darlin your love is like the coming spring
Wont you come along and sing a song
Sing the song my love
Ohh lady wont you lie lady
Wont you lie with me darlin your love is like the coming spring
Wont you come along and sing a song
Sing the song my love
Ohh lady wont you lie lady
Wont you lie with me
Darlin your love is like the coming spring
Wont you come along and sing a song
Sing the song my love
Ooh lady wont you lie lady wont you marry me
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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Dreaming As The Tears Fall.
Dreaming of happy days.
Dreaming of that longing gaze.
Dreaming of that perfect embrace.
I'm dreaming of love always.
The greatest gift one could give.
Loneliness speaks of my weakness.
Vulnerabilities open like a wound so sore.
A tear dropp falls forevermore.
Dreaming of happy days.
Dreaming of that longing gaze.
Dreaming of that perfect embrace.
I'm dreaming of love always.
The greatest gift one could give.
I feel so abandon by everyone.
I feel like no one cares.
I feel, I feel, I feel so much pain.
Please tell me why I am still here.
A purpose should never disappear.
Dreaming of happy days.
Dreaming of that longing gaze.
Dreaming of that perfect embrace.
I'm dreaming of love always.
The greatest gift one could give.
Loneliness speaks of my weakness.
Vulnerabilities open like a wound so sore.
A tear dropp falls forevermore.
Loneliness speaks of my weakness.
Vulnerabilities open like a wound so sore.
A tear dropp falls forevermore.
Dreaming of happy days.
Dreaming of that longing gaze.
Dreaming of that perfect embrace.
I'm dreaming of love always.
The greatest gift one could give.
I remember the past so vividly.
But still it isn't now.
A singled out cloud.
The sun is burning him out.
Oh how he wishes darkness would surround.
Dreaming of happy days.
Dreaming of that longing gaze.
[...] Read more
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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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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The Boxer
I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises
All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest
hmm hmm hmmm
When I left my home and my family, was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low seeking out the poorer quarters, Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
lie la lie, lie la la-lie lie la-lie, lie-la lie, lie la la-lie lie la lie la-la la lie lie.
Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job, but I get no offers
Just a come on from the whores on seventh avenue
I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
la la la ...
lie la lie, lie la la-lie lie la-lie, lie-la lie, lie la la-lie lie la lie la-la la lie lie.
And I am laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone, Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me, Leading me, going home
In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and shame, I am leaving, I am leaving,
But the fighter still remains hmm hmm hmm
lie la lie, lie la la-lie lie la-lie, lie-la lie, lie la la-lie lie la lie la-la la lie lie.
song performed by Simon & Garfunkel
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Eighth Book
ONE eve it happened when I sate alone,
Alone upon the terrace of my tower,
A book upon my knees, to counterfeit
The reading that I never read at all,
While Marian, in the garden down below,
Knelt by the fountain (I could just hear thrill
The drowsy silence of the exhausted day)
And peeled a new fig from that purple heap
In the grass beside her,–turning out the red
To feed her eager child, who sucked at it
With vehement lips across a gap of air
As he stood opposite, face and curls a-flame
With that last sun-ray, crying, 'give me, give,'
And stamping with imperious baby-feet,
(We're all born princes)–something startled me,–
The laugh of sad and innocent souls, that breaks
Abruptly, as if frightened at itself;
'Twas Marian laughed. I saw her glance above
In sudden shame that I should hear her laugh,
And straightway dropped my eyes upon my book,
And knew, the first time, 'twas Boccaccio's tales,
The Falcon's,–of the lover who for love
Destroyed the best that loved him. Some of us
Do it still, and then we sit and laugh no more.
Laugh you, sweet Marian! you've the right to laugh,
Since God himself is for you, and a child!
For me there's somewhat less,–and so, I sigh.
The heavens were making room to hold the night,
The sevenfold heavens unfolding all their gates
To let the stars out slowly (prophesied
In close-approaching advent, not discerned),
While still the cue-owls from the cypresses
Of the Poggio called and counted every pulse
Of the skyey palpitation. Gradually
The purple and transparent shadows slow
Had filled up the whole valley to the brim,
And flooded all the city, which you saw
As some drowned city in some enchanted sea,
Cut off from nature,–drawing you who gaze,
With passionate desire, to leap and plunge,
And find a sea-king with a voice of waves,
And treacherous soft eyes, and slippery locks
You cannot kiss but you shall bring away
Their salt upon your lips. The duomo-bell
Strikes ten, as if it struck ten fathoms down,
So deep; and fifty churches answer it
The same, with fifty various instances.
Some gaslights tremble along squares and streets
The Pitti's palace-front is drawn in fire:
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dreaming From The Waist
I feel like I want to break out of the house
I feel like I want to break out of the house
My heart is a-pumping, Ive got sand in my mouth
My heart is a-pumping, Ive got sand in my mouth
I feel like Im heading up to a cardiac arrest
I feel like Im heading up to a cardiac arrest
I want to scream in the night, I want a manifest
I want to scream in the night, I want a manifest
Ive got that wide awake, give-and-take, five oclock-in-the-morning feeling
Ive got that wide awake, give-and-take, five oclock-in-the-morning feeling
Ive got the hots for the sluts in the well thumbed pages of a magazine
Ive got the hots for the sluts in the well thumbed pages of a magazine
I want to drive, want to fly like I do in the dreams Ive never really been in
I want to drive, want to fly like I do in the dreams Ive never really been in
I want to hump, want to jump, want to heat up, cool down in a dream machine
I want to hump, want to jump, want to heat up, cool down in a dream machine
Im dreaming ... from the waist on down
Im dreaming ... from the waist on down
Im dreaming ... but I feel tired and bound
Im dreaming ... but I feel tired and bound
Im dreaming ... of a day when a cold shower helps my health
Im dreaming ... of a day when a cold shower helps my health
Im dreaming ... dreaming - of the day I can control myself
Im dreaming ... dreaming - of the day I can control myself
Day I can control myself
Day I can control myself
Sound like a priest and then Im shooting dice
Sound like a priest and then Im shooting dice
Im burning tires with some guy whose hair is turning white
Im burning tires with some guy whose hair is turning white
I know the girls that I pass, they just aint impressed
I know the girls that I pass, they just aint impressed
Im too old to give up, but too young to rest
Im too old to give up, but too young to rest
Ive got that numb-to-a-thumb over-dubbed
Ive got that numb-to-a-thumb over-dubbed
Feeling social when the world is sleeping
Feeling social when the world is sleeping
The plot starts to thicken then I sicken and I feel Im cemented down
The plot starts to thicken then I sicken and I feel Im cemented down
Im so juiced that the whorey ladys sad sad story has me quietly weeping
Im so juiced that the whorey ladys sad sad story has me quietly weeping
But here comes the morning
But here comes the morning
Here comes the yawning demented clown
Here comes the yawning demented clown
Im dreaming ... but I know its all hot air
Im dreaming ... but I know its all hot air
Im dreaming ... Ill get back to that rocking chair
Im dreaming ... Ill get back to that rocking chair
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Im Afraid
Afraid of the dark
Afraid of the light
Dont walk in the park
Afraid of the night
Afraid to get stabbed
Or hit by a car
Afraid of the streets
Afraid to go far
Afraid of the sky
Dont like to be high
I dont want to fall
Afraid I might die
Afraid of my friends
Dont like to be seen
Afraid to be nice
Afraid to be mean
Afraid that the wind
Will knock over trees
Afraid of my dog
Afraid of his fleas
[chorus]
Peace of mind
Hard to keep
Hard to find
Look ahead
Look behind
Looking for
Peace of mind
Cant relax
Cant unwind
Deep inside
Secret mind
Oh no!
Afraid to be caught
Afraid to be free
Afraid to make love
Afraid of vd
Afraid of the rain
Dont like to get wet
Afraid to take drugs
They make me forget
Afraid that the air
Will make me get sick
Afraid that a girl
Will cut off my....oh!
Someone tell me how it happened
Why my head is so confused
Can it be my circuits finally blew a fuse
Can a human being really change into a humanoid
Or is my imagination paranoid
[...] Read more
song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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