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Evil is YOU!

Everyone says,
I’m evil because I beat my sister,
I’m evil because I took drugs,
I’m evil because I went to prison,
I’m evil because I cheated,
Well Guess what!
You’re not evil,
So chill,
You’re the core of evil,
You represent every part of evil,
And…..,
So is your dark side,
Your devil!

poem by Rana Malas
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Sister Helen

"Why did you melt your waxen man
Sister Helen?
To-day is the third since you began."
"The time was long, yet the time ran,
Little brother."
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
Three days to-day, between Hell and Heaven!)

"But if you have done your work aright,
Sister Helen,
You'll let me play, for you said I might."
"Be very still in your play to-night,
Little brother."
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
Third night, to-night, between Hell and Heaven!)

"You said it must melt ere vesper-bell,
Sister Helen;
If now it be molten, all is well."
"Even so,--nay, peace! you cannot tell,
Little brother."
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
O what is this, between Hell and Heaven?)

"Oh the waxen knave was plump to-day,
Sister Helen;
How like dead folk he has dropp'd away!"
"Nay now, of the dead what can you say,
Little brother?"
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
What of the dead, between Hell and Heaven?)

"See, see, the sunken pile of wood,
Sister Helen,
Shines through the thinn'd wax red as blood!"
"Nay now, when look'd you yet on blood,
Little brother?"
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
How pale she is, between Hell and Heaven!)

"Now close your eyes, for they're sick and sore,
Sister Helen,
And I'll play without the gallery door."
"Aye, let me rest,--I'll lie on the floor,
Little brother."
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
What rest to-night, between Hell and Heaven?)

"Here high up in the balcony,
Sister Helen,

[...] Read more

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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She Said

One - two - three - four - five - six - seven -
Eight - nine - ten - eleven - twelve - yes!
Yeeah! yeeah! yeeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move to the rhythm!
Get down!
She said move!
Allright!
Im just rocking to the, rocking to the rythm of a groovy,
Rocking to the, rocking to the beat i, beat i,
Rocking to the, rocking to the, rocking to the beat i,
Rocking to the rythm of a groovy beat, beat, beat, beat,
Beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
Rocking to the, rocking to the beat i, beat i,
Rocking to the, rocking to the, rocking to the beat i,
Rocking to the rythm of a groovy beat, beat, beat, beat,
Beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
Im just rocking to the, rocking to the rythm of a groovy,
Rocking to the, rocking to the beat i, beat i,
Rocking to the, rocking to the, rocking to the beat i,
Rocking to the rythm of a groovy beat, beat, beat, beat,
Beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move to the rythm!
Get down!
She said move!
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it,
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it!
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it,
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move to the rythm!
She said move!
Are there any questions?

song performed by Scooter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beat It

Written & composed by michael jackson.
1st verse
They told him dont you ever come around here
Dont wanna see your face, you better disappear
The fires in their eyes and their words are really clear
So beat it, just beat it
2nd verse
You better run, you better do what you can
Dont wanna see no blood, dont be a macho man
You wanna be tough, better do what you can
So beat it, but you wanna be bad
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
3rd verse
Theyre out to get you, better leave while you can
Dont wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man
You wanna stay alive, better do what you can
So beat it, just beat it
4th verse
You have to show them that youre really not scared
Youre playin with your life, this aint no truth or dare
Theyll kick you, then they beat you,
Then theyll tell you its fair
So beat it, but you wanna be bad
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
Chorus
Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated

[...] Read more

song performed by Michael Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peter Bell The Third

BY MICHING MALLECHO, Esq.

Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!

Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.

Ophelia.-What means this, my lord?
Hamlet.-Marry, this is Miching Mallecho; it means mischief.
~Shakespeare.

PROLOGUE
Pet er Bells, one, two and three,
O'er the wide world wandering be.-
First, the antenatal Peter,
Wrapped in weeds of the same metre,
The so-long-predestined raiment
Clothed in which to walk his way meant
The second Peter; whose ambition
Is to link the proposition,
As the mean of two extremes-
(This was learned from Aldric's themes)
Shielding from the guilt of schism
The orthodoxal syllogism;
The First Peter-he who was
Like the shadow in the glass
Of the second, yet unripe,
His substantial antitype.-
Then came Peter Bell the Second,
Who henceforward must be reckoned
The body of a double soul,
And that portion of the whole
Without which the rest would seem
Ends of a disjointed dream.-
And the Third is he who has
O'er the grave been forced to pass
To the other side, which is,-
Go and try else,-just like this.
Peter Bell the First was Peter
Smugger, milder, softer, neater,
Like the soul before it is
Born from that world into this.
The next Peter Bell was he,
Predevote, like you and me,
To good or evil as may come;
His was the severer doom,-

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Let the Beat Control Your Body

-a- anita ; r - ray
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat contol your body
R: now the my beat control your body!
R: let my beat / let my beat
A: control your body/ the beat is running throw your vains/ control your body /when you let it penetrate your brain!
R: the booming system which plays in places / move your system, change these spaces / when Im on the mic you cant refuse / no one ever came to preach, I came to amuse / techno making; no mista
Never faking / always breaking it down, hey to a party / now let my beat control your body!
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: now let my beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: let my beat / let my beat
A: control your body/ the beat is running throw your vains/ control your body /when you let it penetrate your brain!
R: its my beat now / its my beat
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body, yeah...
R: let my beat / let my beat
R: down with the forces how we go / the second to first just you to show / you just cant stand still cause you gotta move / you feel the bass line you feel the groove / my beat accepts you jus
You are / it drives you away just like a fast car / its my beat, it belongs to me / so let my beat control your body!
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: let the beat control your body!
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: now let my beat control your body!
A: control your body/ the beat is running throw your vains/ control your body /when you let it penetrate your brain!
A: let the beat control your body!

song performed by 2 Unlimited (1996)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cold Chill

Feelin young and full of fun
Hangin out with my crew
Hot to trot and about to pop
Tryin to find some girl to get into
There she was fine as can be
Hair braided down to her knees
She took me home, she turned me out
But before sunrise she said I must leave
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night
Far from meek, and feelin chic
Refusing to concede defeat
There I was same crew, same time
Same club we kicked it at the previous week
I asked her how could she have the nerve
To treat me with such disgrace
She blinked her eyes, smiled, apologized
Threw her drink right in my face
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night, on a summer night
On a summer night, on a summer night
A cold chill, a cold chill, a cold chill, cold chill
Weekends came and weekends passed
But not the yearning in my heart
And there she was to light the spark
Like she did right from the very start
I took no time, drove to her house
Got deep into a passion high
I heard a knock, the turn of a key
And the voice of another guy

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,
The one the other to renounce.
They both approach the Lady's Bower;
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a Masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made;
From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him from himself, by Night.

'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r
T' enforce a desperate amour,
As he that has two strings t' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute,
Disdains to render in his suit,
Has all his flames and raptures double,
And hangs or drowns with half the trouble,
While those who sillily pursue,
The simple, downright way, and true,
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
And more untoward to be won
Than by CALIGULA the Moon,
Cry out upon the stars, for doing
Ill offices to cross their wooing;
When only by themselves they're hindred,
For trusting those they made her kindred;
And still, the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder.
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted,
In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,
Through th' windows of a dazzling room?
But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame.
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use;
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways,
As follows in due time and place

No sooner was the bloody fight,
Between the Wizard, and the Knight,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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Beat Of Your Drum

Photograph king, watches you go
Now fashions may change, heaven knows, but you
Still leave a stain on me
Only to go colours may fade
The seasons may change, weather blows, but you still leave a mark on me
Wrong-negative fades-never the twain, reckless and tame
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat I beat it
I feel it
Disco brat-follow the pack
Watching you peel, heaven knows, prison cant hold all this greedy intention
Only to go-i picture you now
Music may change-hi-di-ho keen to follow your nose
Wrong-love out of tune
Sweet is the night, bright light destroys me
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
I like to beat on your drum
I like to beat on your drum
I like your face in the crowd
I like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
Cant beat it
I feel it
Ho beat it
I beat it
Oh yeah
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to yell it out loud
Id like to beat on your drum
Cant beat it cant beat it
I feel it I feel it
Id like to beat on your drum

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Undying One- Canto III

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

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

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

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

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Born In A Prison

Were born in a prison, raised in a prison,
Sent to a prison called school.
We cry in a prison, we love in a prison,
We dream in a prison like fools.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
We live with no reason, kicked round for no reason,
Thrown out without reason like tools.
We work in a prison and hate in a prison,
And die in a prison as a rule.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
We live in a prison mong judges and wardens
And wait for no reason for you.
We laugh in a prison, go through all four seasons,
And die with no vision of truth.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!
Born in a prison!
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Born In A Prison

Were born in a prison, raised in a prison,
Sent to a prison called school.
We cry in a prison, we love in a prison,
We dream in a prison like fools.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
We live with no reason, kicked round for no reason,
Thrown out without reason like tools.
We work in a prison and hate in a prison,
And die in a prison as a rule.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
We live in a prison mong judges and wardens
And wait for no reason for you.
We laugh in a prison, go through all four seasons,
And die with no vision of truth.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!
Born in a prison!
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cheated (R&B Remix)

[wyclef] {spoken}
Rolling Stones could not be here with you tonight, Led Zepplin couldnt
be here with you tonight, but we got Wyclef Jean in the house tonight.
Yo, I woke up on the other side of the bed. Tune into my rock station,
and someone say hip-hoppers cant play rock and roll, huh.
[Wyclef] {singing} Chorus:
I cheated on you, you cheated on me,
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be,
so tell me girl, is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that Wyclef aint dreamin
[Wyclef] {singing} Verse 1:
By the time you here this song, itll be number 1 on your radioooooooooo.
Youll be drivin from the beach,
and your boyfriend will say turn it down real loooooow.
You punch up the sun roof!
And you roll down the window, slam that pedal to the floooooooooor.
whatchin the whats wrong (?)
Shes havin a good jour (?) It said love dont let me no mooooore
(to all the girls I cheated on before)
[Wyclef] {singing} Chorus:
I cheated on you, you cheated on me,
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be,
so tell me girl, is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that wyclef aint dreamin
I cheated on you, you cheated on me (To all the girls I cheated on before)
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be,
so tell me girl is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that Wyclef aint dreamin
[Wyclef] {singing} Verse 2:
I dont know much about philosophy, play though, all I rest I know (?)
all I know, when I met you, in the streets, the air wasnt so cooooooooold.
Its like my whole world just changed.
Im like a ball with no chain, ground myself on the aaaaaaaaa-train.
Reality struck me, how could you love me?
When you slept with another maaaaaaaaaaaaan.
[Wyclef] {singing} Chorus:
I cheated on you, you cheated on me,
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be.
(to all the girls I cheated on before)
So tell me girl is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that Wyclef aint dreamin
I cheated on you, you cheated on me, (To all the girls I cheated on before)
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be.
So tell me girl, is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that wyclef aint dreamin
(School is out now, school is out, nah Im Sayin?)
[Wyclef] {singing} Verse 3:
nah, nah, nah, nah, I had to play hooky, last friday, cause she hurt me.
nah, nah, nah, nah, I lied to my mama, last friday, cause she hurt me.
nah, nah, nah, nah, I might play hooky, this friday, if she hurts me.

[...] Read more

song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Cenci : A Tragedy In Five Acts

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

Count Francesco Cenci.
Giacomo, his Son.
Bernardo, his Son.
Cardinal Camillo.
Orsino, a Prelate.
Savella, the Pope's Legate.
Olimpio, Assassin.
Marzio, Assassin.
Andrea, Servant to Cenci.
Nobles, Judges, Guards, Servants.
Lucretia, Wife of Cenci, and Step-mother of his children.
Beatrice, his Daughter.

The Scene lies principally in Rome, but changes during the Fourth Act to Petrella, a castle among the Apulian Apennines.
Time. During the Pontificate of Clement VIII.

ACT I

Scene I.
-An Apartment in the Cenci Palace.
Enter Count Cenci, and Cardinal Camillo.

Camillo.
That matter of the murder is hushed up
If you consent to yield his Holiness
Your fief that lies beyond the Pincian gate.-
It needed all my interest in the conclave
To bend him to this point: he said that you
Bought perilous impunity with your gold;
That crimes like yours if once or twice compounded
Enriched the Church, and respited from hell
An erring soul which might repent and live:-
But that the glory and the interest
Of the high throne he fills, little consist
With making it a daily mart of guilt
As manifold and hideous as the deeds
Which you scarce hide from men's revolted eyes.

Cenci.
The third of my possessions-let it go!
Ay, I once heard the nephew of the Pope
Had sent his architect to view the ground,
Meaning to build a villa on my vines
The next time I compounded with his uncle:
I little thought he should outwit me so!

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Eat Em Up L Chill

Chill
(eat em up, l)
Chill
(eat em up, l)
Chill
(eat em up, l)
Chill
(eat em up, l)
[ verse 1 ]
Bring on the mos and hos
Dont snooze or doze
Cause Im rippin up shows
Hold your nose, dead bodies are around
I leave scratch marks under the tears of a clown
I write rhymes that shine like lipstick
So much material, but not materialistic
Imperial styles I use
When the mic is lifted the crowd is amused
Come with it, if you feel youre full-fledged
Or yell geronimo! and jump off the edge
Your e-n-d is near when I appear
The stage is yours, but wait until the smoke clears
Rhyme sayer, and Im here to lay a load
So watch a player when hes playin in player mode
Uncle ls bad, and youre soon to say
Cause I rip the mic until the toon decay
Chill
(eat em up, l)
Chill
(eat em up, l)
Chill
(eat em up, l)
Chill
(eat em up, l)
[ verse 2 ]
Mcs are dumb, I catch em in a dragnet
Youre not complete, Im battlin a fragment
So creative and witty and outstandin
And I be demandin that youre abondoned
In the desert or a wild west town
While Im at your crib on a cherry-go-round
Where will she stop? no one knows
Like I said before, bring on the mos and hos
I know my abcs and my ps and qs
Just chill and listen to the rhyme cruise
All aboard, the cod is a reward
Some were ignored when they toured for they bored
The crowd was aloud, lyrics werent endowed
Took a crack of the 40 and went to show em how
You like me now, but you didnt before

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song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Metamorphoses: Book The Sixth

PALLAS, attending to the Muse's song,
Approv'd the just resentment of their wrong;
And thus reflects: While tamely I commend
Those who their injur'd deities defend,
My own divinity affronted stands,
And calls aloud for justice at my hands;
Then takes the hint, asham'd to lag behind,
And on Arachne' bends her vengeful mind;
One at the loom so excellently skill'd,
That to the Goddess she refus'd to yield.
The Low was her birth, and small her native town,
Transformation She from her art alone obtain'd renown.
of Arachne Idmon, her father, made it his employ,
into a Spider To give the spungy fleece a purple dye:
Of vulgar strain her mother, lately dead,
With her own rank had been content to wed;
Yet she their daughter, tho' her time was spent
In a small hamlet, and of mean descent,
Thro' the great towns of Lydia gain'd a name,
And fill'd the neighb'ring countries with her fame.
Oft, to admire the niceness of her skill,
The Nymphs would quit their fountain, shade, or
hill:
Thither, from green Tymolus, they repair,
And leave the vineyards, their peculiar care;
Thither, from fam'd Pactolus' golden stream,
Drawn by her art, the curious Naiads came.
Nor would the work, when finish'd, please so much,
As, while she wrought, to view each graceful touch;
Whether the shapeless wool in balls she wound,
Or with quick motion turn'd the spindle round,
Or with her pencil drew the neat design,
Pallas her mistress shone in every line.
This the proud maid with scornful air denies,
And ev'n the Goddess at her work defies;
Disowns her heav'nly mistress ev'ry hour,
Nor asks her aid, nor deprecates her pow'r.
Let us, she cries, but to a tryal come,
And, if she conquers, let her fix my doom.
The Goddess then a beldame's form put on,
With silver hairs her hoary temples shone;
Prop'd by a staff, she hobbles in her walk,
And tott'ring thus begins her old wives' talk.
Young maid attend, nor stubbornly despise
The admonitions of the old, and wise;
For age, tho' scorn'd, a ripe experience bears,
That golden fruit, unknown to blooming years:
Still may remotest fame your labours crown,
And mortals your superior genius own;
But to the Goddess yield, and humbly meek

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poem by Ovid
Added by Poetry Lover
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Little Sister

Words and music by rick nielsen
Well Ive been around here for way too long
Its really time to go
But theres reasons for my madness
Though it doesnt show
I sit and wait and contemplate what am I gonna say
When the telephone rings I hear her voice
She speaks that special way
Alright now, little sister
Wait all night for the call
Shes alright with me
Shes so hot, shes on fire
Oo little sister
Fills me up with desire
Oo little sister
Sun goes down when she gets up
I dont think I can get enough
Little sister, little sister
Little sister, little sister
Somethings flowing through my veins
What it is I dont know
Its a three alarm fire in my heart
Hope it doesnt show
Call the doctor, call the judge
Justice of the peace
Pluck this flower in full bloom
This relatives no niece
Alright now, little sister
Wait all night for the call
Shes alright with me
Shes so hot, shes on fire
Oo little sister
Fills me up with desire
Oo little sister
Sun goes down when she gets up
I dont think I can get enough
Little sister, little sister
Little sister, little sister
Im at the crossroads waiting for a call
Back against the wall again
But Im not just expecting anyone
When I get the call that says it all
She says yeah (robin, Ill be right over)
Shes so hot, shes on fire
Oo little sister
Fills me up with desire
Oo little sister
Sun goes down when she gets up
I dont think I can get enough
Little sister, little sister

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song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bride's Prelude

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte
To listless Aloÿse;
“Along your wedding-road the wheat
Bends as to hear your horse's feet,
And the noonday stands still for heat.”
Amelotte laughed into the air
With eyes that sought the sun:
But where the walls in long brocade
Were screened, as one who is afraid
Sat Aloÿse within the shade.
And even in shade was gleam enough
To shut out full repose
From the bride's 'tiring-chamber, which
Was like the inner altar-niche
Whose dimness worship has made rich.
Within the window's heaped recess
The light was counterchanged
In blent reflexes manifold
From perfume-caskets of wrought gold
And gems the bride's hair could not hold,
All thrust together: and with these
A slim-curved lute, which now,
At Amelotte's sudden passing there,
Was swept in somewise unaware,
And shook to music the close air.
Against the haloed lattice-panes
The bridesmaid sunned her breast;
Then to the glass turned tall and free,
And braced and shifted daintily
Her loin-belt through her côte-hardie.
The belt was silver, and the clasp
Of lozenged arm-bearings;
A world of mirrored tints minute
The rippling sunshine wrought into 't,
That flushed her hand and warmed her foot.
At least an hour had Aloÿse—
Her jewels in her hair—
Her white gown, as became a bride,
Quartered in silver at each side—
Sat thus aloof, as if to hide.
Over her bosom, that lay still,
The vest was rich in grain,
With close pearls wholly overset:
Around her throat the fastenings met
Of chevesayle and mantelet.
Her arms were laid along her lap
With the hands open: life
Itself did seem at fault in her:
Beneath the drooping brows, the stir
Of thought made noonday heavier.

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poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Added by Poetry Lover
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